Now she not only had a mate, but an entire family who were anxious to make her feel at home.
“That’s a definite yes.”
He didn’t give her the opportunity for second thoughts.
With his cat shimmering in his eyes, he swiped his hand over her lower stomach, the claws slicing through her flesh.
Sage gasped, but shockingly, there was no pain, only pleasure as he swooped his head down to claim her lips in a kiss that made her toes curl in pleasure.
“Mine,” he growled, rolling on top of her to settle between her spread legs.
Then, sliding his cock deep inside her body, he physically connected them even as their souls entwined to become one.
Epilogue
Lian heaved a sated sigh as Sage ran a brush through his hair.
He’d protested when she’d pulled on her clothes and grabbed the brush his grandmother had left behind. He wanted another few hours of having her naked and sweaty beneath him, but he couldn’t argue with her point that the clinic wasn’t the most private place to indulge his endless lust for his mate.
In a few hours the Healers would be satisfied he was strong enough to leave and he intended to choose one of the empty cabins that was on the opposite side of the Wildlands from his family home.
Once he had Sage alone he was going to lock the door and throw away the key.
Until then he had to be satisfied with the feel of her hands running through his hair as she pulled it into a braid.
Savoring her soft touch and the lemony scent that clung to his skin, Lian scowled as a sharp knock intruded into their peaceful silence.
“Go away,” he snapped.
The door was shoved open to reveal Raphael, who was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt despite the fact his wounds hadn’t fully healed.
Lian tensed, a sudden anger racing through him as he caught sight of the male’s bleak expression.
Dammit.
They’d just survived yet another attempt by Shakpi to commit genocide.
Hadn’t they earned a few centuries of peace and quiet?
“I have news,” the leader of the Suits announced.
“Do you want me to leave?” Sage asked, already moving off the bed.
“No, you’re pack now.” Lian wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her tight against his side. “Our business is your business.”
She stiffened, as if waiting for Raphael to deny her right to be at Lian’s side.
Of course he didn’t.
Sage was pack.
“He’s right,” Raphael said with a simple honesty. “You belong to us.”
Feeling Sage relax against his side, Lian focused his attention on his friend.
“What’s wrong?”
“We had word from Mercier and Rosalie’s kidnappers.”
A growl rumbled in Lian’s chest.
So they had been taken by the enemy.
“Bastards,” he ground out. “Did you inform them that their goddess has abandoned them?”
“Yes.”
Lian narrowed his eyes. “And?”
A sudden heat filled the air as Raphael struggled to contain his fury.
“And their demands have nothing to do with Shakpi.”
“Then what the hell do they want?” Lian asked. Without their evil goddess to give them a purpose, he’d expected them to slink into the shadows. “Money?”
“No.” Raphael’s expression was hard as stone. “An exchange for one of our prisoners.”
An icy chill of premonition inched down Lian’s spine.
“Who?”
Raphael clenched his hands, the name coming out like a curse.
“Hiss.”
About the Author
Alexandra Ivy is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Guardians of Eternity series, as well as the Sentinels and Bayou Heat that she writes with Laura Wright. After majoring in theatre she decided she prefers to bring her characters to life on paper rather than stage. She lives in Missouri with her family. Visit her website at alexandraivy.com.
Other Books by Alexandra Ivy
Guardians of Eternity
Hunt the Darkness
May 28, 2014
ISBN 978-1420125153
Darkness Avenged
June 4, 2013, Zebra
ISBN 978-1420111385
Levet
March 26, 2013
Fear the Darkness
September 1,2012, Zebra
ISBN 978-1420111378
Bound by Darkness
December 6,2011, Zebra
ISBN 978-1420111361
The Real Werewives of Vampire County
November 2011, Kensington
ISBN 978-0758261588
Supernatural
September 2011, Kensington
ISBN 978-1420109887
Yours for Eternity
September 2011, Kensington
ISBN 978-1420112283
Devoured by Darkness
November 2010, Zebra Paranormal
ISBN 978-1420111354
Beyond the Darkness
April 2010, Zebra Paranormal
ISBN 978-1420102987
Darkness Unleashed
November 2009, Zebra Paranormal
ISBN 978-1420102970
Darkness Revealed
March 2009, Zebra Paranormal
ISBN 978-1-4201-0296-34
Darkness Everlasting
May 2008, Zebra Paranormal
ISBN 978-0-8217-7939-2
Embrace the Darkness
November 2007, Zebra Paranormal
ISBN-10 0821779370
ISBN-13 978-0821779378
When Darkness Comes
January 2007, Zebra Paranormal
ISBN 0-8217-7935-4
Immortal Rogues Series
* Please note this series is a reprint from the 2003 Historical Vampire Series written as Deborah Raleigh *
My Lord Vampire
#1 in the Immortal Rogues Series
February 28, 2012, Zebra
ISBN 978-1420122718
My Lord Eternity
#2 in the Immortal Rogues Series
December 4, 2012, Zebra
ISBN 978-1-4201-2861-1
My Lord Immortality
#3 in the Immortal Rogues Series
December 31, 2012, Zebra
ISBN 978-1-4201-2272-5
Sentinel Series
Predatory
Sentinel Anthology
May 7, 2013
ISBN 978-1-4201-2512-2
Born in Blood
Book #1 Sentinel series
December 31, 2013
ISBN 978-1420125146
Bayou Heat Series
Bayou Heat Raphael & Parish
Book #1 and #2 in the Bayou Heat Series
January 7, 2013
ISBN 978-0-9886245-0-4
Bayou Heat Bayon & Jean-Baptiste
Book #3 and #4 in the Bayou Heat Series
April 11, 2013
ISBN 978-0-9886245-1-1
Bayou Heat Talon & Xavier
Book #5 and #6 in the Bayou Heat Series
ISBN 0988624575
July 8, 2013
Rapture Series
Sinful Rapture
April 11, 2014
First Rapture
September 28, 2013
Wicked Firsts
August 19, 2013
Roch
by Laura Wright
Chapter 1
After a quick shift from puma to Pantera, Roch stood on the dirt path outside Medical and slid the knot of his wrinkled tie into place.
“Isn’t that the same suit you had on last night, brother?” Damien asked, his black eyes heavy with amusement.
Roch regarded his friend and colleague. “Yes, it is.” He didn’t like it, but time demanded it be so. The position of Diplomat deserved the respect of a suit—even if that suit was rumpled and carried the faint scent of a night gone awry.
As a morn
ing breeze off the bayou moved over them, the tall, black-haired male chuckled. “You’re such a manwhore, you know that?”
“Don’t insult me, Damien,” Roch said, running his fingers through his thick, disheveled blond hair. He was never sleeping on a couch again. No matter what the circumstance.
“What? By calling you a whore?”
“No. By calling me a man.” Roch turned his ice blue gaze on his fellow Suit. His brows lifted a fraction of an inch. “Besides, nothing happened with the female.”
The male snorted. “Yeah, I believe that. Remember, I know you. Have seen how the females respond to you. It’s unfair as hell.” He paused to wave to a couple of female Hunters passing by. When they barely gave him a second glance, he turned his attention back to Roch, his expression hopeful. “Teach me.”
Roch cracked a dry smile. Damien was a good male; funny, honest and loyal. Not to mention a brilliant Diplomat. But this understanding of his, this belief that Roch possessed some kind of sexual magic, or—pardon the phrase—catnip with the females he encountered was complete bullshit. All he had was an open and respectful desire. And maybe the belief that a female’s pleasure came before his own.
“I saw you leave The Cougar’s Den with her,” Damien pointed out. “And you show up this morning in the same clothes, looking like you hardly slept.” He grinned. “That’s what I call a successful night.”
Roch growled softly with impatience. The night before had been anything but successful. In fact, it had been pretty much hell. Owning to it wasn’t high on his priority list, but he knew Damien wouldn’t stop questioning him until he was tossed a little something to satisfy his curiosity.
“The female is getting married in a week,” Roch said, wishing he’d had time to stop home for a shower. No matter how he tried to play this, Raphael and the other Suits were going to give him some serious shit about the wrinkled jacket and pants—not to mention the lingering odors of alcohol and a pissed-off stomach.
Damien looked genuinely confused. “So she’s getting married. And?”
“I don’t play with claimed females, Damien.”
The confusion on the male’s face deepened. “Then what did you do last night?”
Her roommate.
Roch grinned at that. At his foolish, yet highly decadent thoughts. It had been the plan. He’d even agreed to let the engaged human female watch—which she’d been damn keen on doing. But then hell had pulled him under, shaking and churning his guts until he’d become violently ill. First all over the white sheepskin rug on their living room floor, then in the bathroom for a good two hours. He’d passed out on their couch shortly after, like a hammered teenager.
Granted, Pantera had their share of medical issues to deal with, but stomach sickness was a rarity. He’d woken up late and apologized profusely to the women. And on his way back to the bayou, he had called to arrange for a new rug to be delivered and maid service to come to their apartment.
“Forget last night,” Roch said, motioning for Damien to follow as he headed toward the doors of Medical. “Today is what matters. And the work ahead. But I will say that Hiss had better give us the answers we’re looking for. My cat is just aching to attack something.”
“Hiss?” Damien repeated, his brows slamming together in confusion. “Is that who we’re meeting with this morning?”
“You didn’t know?”
The male shook his head. “Didn’t know who we’re meeting, and sure as hell didn’t know he’d been brought to Medical.”
A flicker of unease moved through Roch. It wasn’t like the leader of the Suits to keep information from his faction members. “I’m sure Raphael meant to inform you.”
“Maybe he doesn’t trust me.”
The bitterness in Damien’s voice wasn’t hard to miss. It was difficult being the newest member of any faction, but with the Diplomats it was doubly so. There was so much information, so much protocol—so many secrets that needed to be kept to protect the Pantera.
“Why would you think that?” Roch asked him.
The male shrugged. “Hiss was a friend back when we were cubs.”
With a sniff of amusement, Roch yanked the door wide. “Hiss had many friends. Raphael is no doubt suffering from intense stress due to Shakpi’s dramatic departure, and that we’ve been outed to the humans—and then there’s the lack of sleep due to the incessant squawk of one called Soyala.”
That seemed to both smooth the male’s raised hackles and cause him to grin. “The cub. I’m sure he doesn’t mind her cries. A young is a great blessing to a male.”
“To some males, that’s true,” Roch answered. “I, however, prefer work—and the cries of a male who’s just come clean after a particularly rough interrogation.”
Damien laughed. “So, why was Hiss brought here?”
“They’re testing him,” Roch said as they moved down the hall. “His blood, heart, mind—even his cat. While his tongue remains quiet, the Nurturers are hoping to glean some information as to why our new enemies would trade two Pantera for one. Why Hiss is so important to them.”
“I still think loyalty to these humans could be a factor,” Damien put in, giving a quick smile to a passing female who was in her puma state. “Maybe they have a long history. Maybe they consider Hiss one of their own. And the exchange for Rosalie and Mercier is their way of demonstrating that.”
Medical was alive with activity, as it always was in the morning hours. Roch spotted Raphael up ahead. The leader of the Diplomatic Faction was dressed sharply in a tailored black suit and was speaking intently to one of the head Nurturers, Jean-Baptiste.
“Well, they can have him,” Roch said with a growl. “As soon as he tells us everything he knows, and we have our loyal Pantera back again.”
A few feet from his boss, Roch gritted his teeth as his stomach rolled hard and fast again. What the hell was going on with him? Bad alcohol? Bad food? What? And why was it still affecting him? As he neared the two Pantera, he shoved the feeling back. He didn’t have time for ailments. He had a job to do. And, he mused with a forced grin, the cries of a traitor male to elicit.
* * *
Fired.
FIRED!?!
Lydia Page stared at the trees swaying in the breeze outside the picture window and wondered why she hadn’t anticipated the reaction from the partners at her law firm. Maybe because they were both women, and had children of their own? Of course, they also had husbands and nannies to go along with those children. But surely they understood that she’d be committed to the firm even if she had a child?
Nope.
To be fair, they hadn’t said they were firing her because of her pregnancy. Because, you know, that would be highly illegal. Instead, they’d claimed they were firing her for excessive absences. Which was such crap. With the illness and subsequent death of her mother six months ago, she’d taken some time off. Two days over her allotment, to be specific—two days both partners had verbally agreed to. But as a lawyer, she knew how well oral agreements stood up, and how quickly they were forgotten.
Behind her, the office door opened. “Ms. Page,” came the doctor’s voice. “Thank you for coming in today.”
“Of course,” she said.
It was this very lunchtime appointment at The Haymore Center that her assistant had both scheduled and shared with one of the partners’ assistants a few days ago. Clearly, the partners didn’t believe that a single mother could put in the kind of hours they wanted.
Well, screw them, Lydia thought, her eyes now set on the doctor seated across from her. She could get another job. Hell, maybe she’d even open her own practice.
“How are you today, Ms. Page?” the doctor inquired, his gaze trained on the paperwork before him on the desk.
“Fine,” she said brightly. “No morning sickness yet. But I’m sure that will come. My mom was really sick with me from six weeks to four months. Barfing all the time.” She smiled and touched her flat belly. “But what’s a little barf when you g
et something so precious at the end of it, right?” She laughed softly.
The doctor took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Ms. Page, I’d like to discuss your blood test and ultrasound results.”
It was then that he looked up from his paperwork and met her gaze. His eyes were a cold brown and deep set. His mouth a thin, tense line. Lydia felt the blood drain from her face, and her heart start to pound. “What’s wrong? The baby—”
“The baby looks fine,” he said evenly. “Healthy.”
“Oh my god.” She put a hand to her chest. “Oh, thank goodness. I—”
“But there is something we need to talk about,” he amended.
The relief from a moment ago evaporated and heat prickled through her. “What?”
“The embryo’s development is further along than it should be.” His tone was unsympathetic at best.
Lydia’s hands started to tremble. “What does that mean? How far along is it?”
“The fetus should be measuring four weeks. But instead, it’s twelve.”
Lydia stared at him, her heart beating so fast now it actually hurt. She’d only met Dr. Ambrose twice. Once for a consult, and the second time when he performed the insemination. The man was purported to be a genius so she had overlooked his lack of warmth and bedside manner. With the job she’d hired him to do, skill was far more important than kindness. But right then, staring at him across his desk, feeling as though she might implode from fear and grief, she wouldn’t have minded a little bit of gentleness.
“What does this mean?” she asked in a near whisper. “And why did it happen?” My baby…
Once again, the door opened behind her and a woman’s voice called out, “Knock, knock.”
“Come in, Erin,” the doctor said in a grave tone, avoiding Lydia’s gaze as much as possible now.
The woman strode past Lydia and came to stand beside the doctor. She was somewhere in her mid-thirties, with pale brown hair and dark, intelligent eyes. She looked from Lydia to the doctor, then back again. “I see you’ve been told.”
Lian/Roch (Bayou Heat) Page 9
