But nothing could've prepared her for this.
A cool hand came down on her forehead, deft fingers wiping sweat-soaked strands of hair from her face.
“You’re burning up,” Jaxen inhaled sharply. He leaned down and pressed a light kiss to her eyebrow. “I’ll be right back, I need to get someone to help you.” And just like that he was gone.
Olivia closed her eyes and let her mind float away from her present problems. She let it take her somewhere beautiful, safe and cool. The beach. She let the cool water lap at her skin, cooling the fever, siphoning it from her system like a leech. Waves crashed against the shore, the soft whoosh and hiss of the spray as the water collided with sand echoed softly, creating a cocoon of bliss.
She sighed in relief as some of the pain finally lessened and let herself drift off on the next wave.
“She’s not submitting,” Samuel murmured as he ran the cool cloth gently across Olivia’s scalding hot skin. “In order for the mating to succeed, she has to allow herself to love you, to accept you and this new life. She’s fighting her foreign nature with the only one she’s ever known.” Samuel looked up at Jax. “She’s so very strong, My Lord, she’s the strongest woman I’ve ever met, dragon or human.”
“It won’t matter how strong she is, if she doesn’t allow the change to happen, she will die,” Jaxen muttered and fell to his knees beside the bed. Reaching across the sweat-soaked sheets, he took her limp hand in his and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles.
“I know you can hear me,” he whispered to her. “I need you to let go. I need you to accept us both for who we really are.” His voice broke and his eyes teared, the plump droplets running down his cheeks. Crying wasn’t a manly thing to do, but at the mere thought of losing his new-found mate, he felt like screaming to the heavens. Since he’d physically shared his life-force with her, if she died, he would as well.
But that minor detail aside, he couldn’t exist without no matter. He’d come to love her and for him - she was his life - his forever. She’d filled a hole inside of him and should she not survive, that hollow spot would grow, rot and erode until nothing of him remained.
“Should I summon someone, My Lord?” Samuel asked softly.
Suddenly inspiration smacked Jaxen like a bolt of lightning. His head snapped up and he knew his eyes had illuminated even without Samuel visibly cringing. His need to protect his mate, primal as it was, had risen to the surface and nothing could stop him from doing just that.
“Summon Elandra,” Jaxen ordered. Samuel nodded curtly and hurried to the chamber doors. Jaxen brought both of Olivia’s hands to his forehead and bent his head for one last request. Should Elandra fail, they were both doomed.
Chapter 9
Dream-walking was both an exact science and a delicate approach. Jaxen had his faction’s priestess summoned with the intent of sending himself into Olivia’s dreams where he could plead with her face-to-face. At least by doing that, he’d given them both a chance.
Jaxen deeply inhaled the incense and let his mind fill with visions of Olivia. Her wild auburn curls fanning his pillow, her face alight with happiness and wonder. He even recalled the sound of his name on her lips as they’d made love. He felt his body lighten and then float.
After a few moments, he opened his eyes and studied his surroundings. He wasn’t surprised to find himself on an obstacle course designed for soldiers-in-training. However, instead of young men and women running the gauntlets, one lone figure struggled to beat each deterrent. She wore a heather gray sweat suit, her wild hair tamed in a ponytail and her face was red as blood. Her chest heaved heavily as she jumped one mud hole and then crashed to the ground to crawl under a low barb-wire fence.
“Olivia,” he called gently and stilled when she rose to face him. Her face was covered in smatterings of blood, sweat and - he imagined - tears. She pulled her sleeves upward and advanced on him with an angry glint in her eye.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded. “Isn’t it enough you’ve taken over my life, now you want my dreams as well?”
Jaxen reached out and took her hands in his, holding firm when she tried to pull away.
“If you don’t submit to what’s happening to you, you will die,” he stated matter-of-factly. “And if you die, I die.”
Her eyebrows drew together in confusion.
“Why would you die?” she asked, suddenly more emotional than he’d ever seen her. The woman from within broke through the tough, soldier exterior and he realized just how amazing she was. She was everything he’d ever wanted in his mate.
Perhaps he’d gone about this all wrong. Having the President merely order her to marry him might have been the fallacious approach after all.
“I bound my life essence to yours during our ceremony,” he explained softly and took another step closer to her. He offered her his open palm and smiled when she tentatively placed her own hand in his. “So, if you die, I will too.”
“Why?” she asked, her voice sounding small and broken. “Why would you do such a thing knowing I might not survive the mating? Is it a tradition, did you have to?”
“No,” Jax answered simply. “No, it’s not tradition, and no one forced me to. I wanted to.” He tugged her hand and brought her body against his, wrapping his arms around her waist. She placed her palms on his chest and pushed him back just far enough so that they could look into eat other’s eyes.
Why would such a magnificent being risk his life for a nobody like her? She’d fought all her life to be taken seriously, to be stronger, faster, smarter than all the boys. She’d never been dainty and feminine like most girls. She’d never fit in anywhere. But from the moment she met Jaxen, she felt like she’d finally found home. Of course the whole mating business had seemed like utter nonsense, but the more she’d listened to Samuel as he’d told of the dragons’ history, the more she allowed herself to embrace the strange, new world. Somewhere up her ancestral line a dragon had taken a human mate, creating a line of hybrids. So, she’d thought that maybe her life had a higher purpose after all. Maybe all her time in the military had served as training for her real destiny. It had certainly honed her into a lethal killing machine. But as she completed the mating ceremony and began her metamorphosis, she’d quickly realized she was nowhere near strong enough.
But now, in learning that if she succumbed to that black abyss of nothing, she’d also condemn Jaxen to the same fate, she knew she had to fight. She to fight harder and not just for her. She had to fight and save the man she’d fallen in love with.
Her mind made up, she tilted her head back and looked up at him.
“Tell me what I need to do,” she asked. “I’ll do it. I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, Jax’s body faded into empty air and Olivia found herself tumbling headfirst down a virtual rabbit hole. The world around her spun wildly, air kicking up in turbulent gusts. It was so strong it pulled her hair free of the ponytail, leaving the thick tresses to whip around face. Her insides ignited and pulled taunt. Her first instinct was to fight, but she forced herself to relax, both in body and mind.
The gale-force wind lifted her body off the ground, tossing it about like a limp rag doll and all the while Olivia let the wind do what it willed. The warmth within her spread from her core to encompass every particle of her being. When the scalding hotness reached her throat, she opened her mouth to scream and stared in shock as fire spewed forth instead.
She had breathed fire.
She only had a moment to revel in the surprise before the winding funnel sucked her inside and she surrendered to the darkness.
Chapter 10
Jax stared in open-mouthed wonder as Olivia’s body levitated off the bed. He’d hurried to cover her with a sheet and watched in amazement as a swift wind swept into the bedroom and caressed her in its fold. He reached out and took one of her limp hands, relieved when her skin was cool to the touch. He lightly traced his lips across her forehea
d and smiled. Her fever was gone. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to convince her, but he was glad he’d done it.
She’d live - forever - at his side, as his Queen and mate. All they had to do now was allow her body to ascend into its rightful state.
He saw the orangish-red light spring to life within her womb and watched in rapture as it quickly spread throughout her body, filling her veins with the fire of her ancestors. No elements could successfully interbreed, but considering she was a human/dragon hybrid, this was new territory for all of them.
Her head whipped back and golden light spewed from her open mouth, filling the room in a searing red-hot heat.
Once the blast of heat subsided, Olivia’s body slowly lowered back to the bed, her hair now a flaming red, curls spread across the sheets under her. The wind had caused the sheet to wrap itself around her long, voluptuous body in a toga-style dress. When she opened her eyes, Jaxen inhaled sharply as he stared into those now emerald green orbs. She was absolutely breathtaking.
“How do you feel?” he asked softly.
Olivia raised herself to sit cross-legged and arranged the sheet to cover her a little better. Jaxen’s question echoed wildly in her ears and she realized all her senses had changed dramatically. She saw clearer, heard better, even her skin was more sensitized. If her future were half as exciting as these new sensations rolling around inside of her, Jax was in for a very long and unexpected marriage.
“I’m starving,” she announced and smiled.
***
THE END
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bearly desire: A Shifter Romance
Chapter 1
Josephine’s mother had chosen her name after seeing a gorgeous portrait of Joséphine de Beauharnais, the empress and first wife of Napoleon. History had been in Josephine Baxter’s blood since she was born. She was fascinated by it, obsessed with the small print of old texts in the library.
Her body grew curves while she sat at a worn desk in her apartment. Men spotted her long mahogany curls and stopped to ask her for dates at coffee shops. She politely declined most of their requests, which were usually aimed at her ample cleavage in a V-neck sweater. Her girlfriends begged her to let them set up dates for her, but Josephine’s mind would wander during a happy hour blind date to the stack of journals sitting on her bookshelf.
When Clara, one of her close friends from college, demanded a lunch date, Josephine hadn’t expected an offer for a different sort of date.
“Roman Williams,” Clara said with a theatrical gesture of her hands. Her expectant look made Josephine frown.
“Who?”
Clara rolled her eyes.
“I swear, if a man isn’t dead, then you wouldn’t possibly know about him. Weren’t you just talking about the “Den” thing last week?”
Josephine’s gaped at her friend, shock and excitement warring in her chest. “The Midnight Den?” She asked. “Yes, the Den is supposedly a secret society. It’s been difficult finding any information about them.” She wasn’t sure if she was more surprised that Clara, a fanatic for fashion and not much else, had remembered her mentioning the elusive social club a week ago or that her friend might have information about them.
She’d come across a few surprising references to them in the past month, but other than that, there was next to no information involving them.
“Well, I’ve got a scoop,” Clara whispered excitedly over her glass of chilled white wine. “A handsome devil I used to date back in high school is a member. I ran into him the other weekend and he went overboard with his whiskey. He started blubbering about the Midnight Den and I played dumb to get some info about it.”
Josephine could’ve tackled the other woman from across the table to hug her.
“Your luck never stops,” she muttered. “What did he say?”
“It’s a boys’ club, of course. Real secretive lot. Apparently the group has been run by a Williams’ son since forever,” Clara said, her face glowing with excitement over the fact that she’d learned some classified information. She was a marketing director, but she should’ve been a journalist.
“Williams, Williams,” Josephine echoed under her breath. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
Clara shrugged. “Don’t ask me, but I think they might be a military family. Old money, judging from Roman Williams’ townhouse. Get this,” she dropped her voice to a whisper and leaned in closer. “Apparently, Roman is in need of a historian. He wants someone to do some digging around in old documents. He’s trying to find some Den document that was lost a century ago.”
Josephine raised her eyebrows. “Your old beau sounds like he was wasted if he spilled all of this to you.”
“I might’ve mentioned that I had a history expert for a friend,” Clara said with an innocent flutter of her eyelashes. “I might’ve also handed him your contact information to pass along to Roman Williams, who is gorgeous heartbreaker, FYI.”
An excited tingle ran through Josephine’s entire body, but not from the image of a supermodel employer. She imagined the beauty of having access to primary sources that were kept in a private family collection. If she found that document, she might be able to find a wealth of new information. The Den’s secrets could reveal a whole new world to her.
“He might not call,” she muttered. Worry pinched at the back of her neck. Clara smiled slyly.
“He’s going to. I have a feeling.”
Chapter 2
Josephine reminded herself to add ‘psychic’ to the list of other careers that Clara could hold when her phone rang on Monday morning.
“Hi, this is Josephine,” she answered softly. Stationed in the corner of a cozy cafe, she strained to hear the person on the other line.
“Ms. Baxter?” a nasally drawl asked.
She frowned. “Yes, this is she.”
“Oh, good,” the caller responded and she couldn’t help thinking that he sounded like an elderly man. She couldn’t remember giving her contact information to an older gentleman lately, so she racked her brains for who he might be. Maybe a source?
“How can I help you?” she asked, watching a barista as she stocked cups on the counter.
“My name is Robert,” he said in a chipper voice. “My employer would like to set up a meeting with you. Can I send a car to you now?”
Her gaze darted down to her tight yoga pants and old top from a college club.
“Um, can it be in an hour or two?” she asked, cursing herself for not washing her hair this morning.
“Lovely. I’ll send a car to your address in two hours. Thank you, Ms. Baxter. My employer looks forward to meeting you.” There was a small pause. “Be advised that some people find him abrasive on the first meeting. He means well.”
The call ended. She stared at the phone in her hand, hovering dangerously above her half-drained mocha latte. Was this actually happening?
Clara squealed on the phone as Josephine jogged all the way back to her apartment.
“I knew it!” she cried victoriously. Josephine hopped into the elevator, cradling her phone next to her ear, as she tried to think of what was clean in her closet.
“Should I wear the black dress? Or is it too tight?” she asked while chewing on her lip. Clara giggled wildly.
“This is the first time I’ve ever heard you worried about your outfit,” she commented. “You should wear the forest green one. It looks great with your hair. He’ll want to hire you and screw you.”
Josephine nearly choked. “Clara! This is a job!”
“Business and pleasure is the way to go.”
It was hard to think about anything but business as she got ready. She flew into a hot shower to scrub her finest soap all over herself. For her hair, she pulled out her finest hair produc
ts. The green dress in her closet was miraculously free of wrinkles. She pulled it on with a pair of plain black pumps and rushed to her vanity to dust on some makeup.
By the time the car arrived, she’d groomed every inch of herself and managed to arrange a makeshift portfolio of her work to show Williams. When she glanced at her reflection, immaculate and clutching all of her hard work, she smiled. It was breakthroughs like this that got research for ground-breaking books started.
She was already imagining makeshift titles and debating on footnotes or endnotes when the car rolled up to her apartment. It was a sleek town car, an elegant staple that she was used to seeing in movies lampooning the rich. But, here she was, about to slide inside on imported leather seats. A chauffeur with a shock of silver hair underneath his cap got out of the car. She nearly squeaked at his size. He was massive.
His towering frame sidled up beside her.
“Evening, Ms. Baxter. I’m Leo. Robert has sent me to retrieve you for our employer. Are you ready?” He asked. His smile was surprisingly friendly as she craned her neck to look up at him.
“Um, yes,” she muttered and got in when he opened the door. His head nearly touched the roof when he got into the driver’s seat. She couldn’t help the remark that flew out of her mouth.
“You’re as tall as a bear!”
His only reply was the loudest series of laughs that she’d ever heard. They shook the car. He was nearly crying when they pulled away from the curb.
“That was rude,” she moaned into her hands. He cackled in the front.
“Not at all,” he muttered with an amused look at her through the rear-view mirror. “You’re right about that.” His answer simmered with a hidden meaning that she couldn’t understand. She felt the warmth in her cheeks for the whole ride as she repeated apologies and he waved them off. Finally, she remembered their destination and stared at the portfolio in her lap.
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