Alphas of Summer: A collection of shifter romances

by Lia Davis

  The underground groups were small Packs that bordered the line between law-abiding wolves and lawbreakers. The council still considered them rogues by definition of the law. For the most part, the underground groups weren’t evil or bloodthirsty. They didn’t kill except when they had no choice.

  “Maybe Solon is distracting him to give you time to heal.”

  Dana shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “You doubt him? What does your gut tell you?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s mixed between distrust and hope. Maybe my judgment is clouded by what Ross did to me and the Pack. He used my power for his own personal gain. I’m not going to trust anyone without them proving their loyalty.” Cooper kissed her forehead. She sighed and leaned into him.

  “I’ll prove it to you everyday for the rest of our lives.” He pulled back and cupped Dana’s face. Then waggled his brows. “Of course, if I step out of line, you could find creative ways to punish me.”

  “Yeah, like making you sleep outside.”

  “That’s cold.” He laughed and kissed her.

  The doorbell rang, followed by the sound of tiny feet running down the hallway. Dana smiled and stood. “Bree.”

  The Healer was there to help Dana with getting Hope’s hearing back.

  Dana smiled at the four-year-old bouncing excitedly at the front door, a wide smile on her lips. Opening the door, Dana welcomed Bree with a smile while signing and speaking, “Someone is excited to see you.”

  Bree laughed and signed, “I wonder why.”

  Hope took the Healer’s hand and tugged her into the living room. Bree let out a laugh and jogged after the little girl that had stolen Dana’s heart. When they were settled on the floor with Hope sitting between them, Bree asked, “How are we going to do this?”

  Dana studied Hope. “Well, when my magic touched Hope’s with my hands over her ears, she heard me talk. I was hoping you could tap into our magic and heal whatever is making her deaf.”

  Bree nodded and reached out to Hope, cupping her ears with both of her hands. Closing her eyes, Bree was quiet for some time before opening her eyes and smiling. “It’ll work.”

  “It will? You sure?”

  With a nod, Bree spoke to Dana telepathically. “There’s nothing wrong with her hearing. My guess is she chooses not to hear or to acknowledge that she can hear. For whatever reason, she is more comfortable using sign language.”

  Interesting. “So we make her believe we can heal her?”

  Bree nodded, then signed to Hope, “Are you ready?”

  Hope nodded. Dana placed her hands over the girl’s ears, and Bree covered Dana’s hands. Together, Dana and the Healer connected with Hope’s magic and her wolf, allowing a small amount of their healing power into her. It didn’t take long for them to find the root of Hope’s psychological block on her hearing and talking. The four-year-old had created a mental shield around her senses, especially hearing and speaking.

  Curious, Dana took the extra step to search for the memories behind the shield. If she could alter or erase the memory, then Hope wouldn’t need the shield anymore. Focusing on the last thing Hope had heard, Dana found what she was looking for.

  Tears streamed down her cheeks as she relived the child’s memory. It was when Hope and her mother had come to the Pack. Edwin had scared her, as if she could sense the darkness inside the rogue. However, it was two nights after when they had settled into Edwin’s house and she heard her mother’s screams of pain and pleas that had caused the damage.

  It was all Dana could do to keep her anger under control. Deciding it was better that Hope never remember hearing Edwin abusing her mother, Dana erased the memories from her mind. She replaced the void with the idea of being asleep and waking up unaware of what Edwin had done.

  When Dana finished, she and Bree removed their hands and waited.

  Hope glanced around the room and found Cooper. She smiled, stood, and then rushed to him. He hugged her tightly and whispered, “Love you, peanut.”

  With a jerk of her head, Hope pulled back and stared at him. Then she glanced to Dana and laughed. “I hear you. All of you.”

  Dana’s heart filled with joy and love for her new family members. Then she turned to Bree and pulled her into a hug. “Thank you.”

  Bree sighed and leaned into the hug. “You did it, not me.” Bree lifted her head and smiled. “I’m proud to call you my Alpha. Together, we can heal the Pack even if it’s one Packmate at a time.

  Her heart filling and expanding, Dana kissed the Healer’s forehead—an act an Alpha would do to strengthen the bond between them. “It’s not going to be easy.”

  Cooper added, “But we’ll rebuild and make the Huston-Reed Pack stronger and more powerful than ever.”

  Dana rose to her knees and moved to Cooper and Hope. She drew both of them into a tight hug. “I love you. Both of you.”

  Cooper pressed his lips to Dana’s for a quick kiss, then kissed Hope’s forehead. “I love you, too. My Alpha. My mate.” Then he held out a hand to Bree, who moved to them. “Our Healer and family. If you ever feel like you need a parental figure to punish you for something, Dana and I are here.”

  Bree laughed while tears slid down her cheeks. She hugged them, Hope included. “Thank you.”

  Dana sniffed, unable to stop the emotions from escaping. She had not only learned to control her powers, she had also embraced them and gained a new family and a Pack that needed her in the process.

  Tomorrow, she’d worry about tracking down Edwin and his band of rogues. Tonight, she would enjoy her family.

  The End

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  About the Author

  In 2008, Lia Davis ventured into the world of writing and publishing and never looked back. She has published more than twenty books, including the bestselling A Tiger’s Claim, book one in her fan favorite Ashwood Falls series. Her novels feature compassionate yet strong alpha heroes who know how to please their women and her leading ladies are each strong in their own way. No matter what obstacle she throws at them, they come out better in the end.

  While writing was initially a way escape from real world drama, Lia now makes her living creating worlds filled with magic, mystery, romance, and adventure so that others can leave real life behind for a few hours at a time.

  Lia’s favorite things are spending time with family, traveling, reading, writing, chocolate, coffee, nature and hanging out with her kitties. She and her family live in Northeast Florida battling hurricanes and very humid summers, but it’s her home and she loves it!

  www.authorliadavis.com/

  Dragon’s Desire

  JD Monroe

  Foreword

  Dragon’s Desire is a standalone story in the Dragons of Ascavar series. The series features powerful dragon shifters in a rich world of magic and might. However, you do not have to have read any of the other books to enjoy and understand this story.

  While all terms are explained in context, if you want to follow along with the language of the dragons and learn more about their culture, you can check out this link to the Kadirai glossary on my website:

  | SPEAK THE LANGUAGE |

  Chapter 1

  Sometime after the third solid punch to his ribs, Pahlin Stormcaller realized he had made a colossal mistake in coming here. He had barely conjured a memory of home—the sweeping vista of fire-orange rock and the glittering stone spires of Arvelor—when a fist slammed into his jaw and knocked him backward. Reality converged on him again as the gathered crowd roared their support for his opponent. Pain bloomed in his face as he tried to focus. Quite literally, since the blow to his head left his vision blurry and the world tilting dangerously to the side.

  He curled his toes against the arena’s cold stone floor. Grit scraped against his bare feet. The sensation grounded him, pulling him away from his introspection and back to the moment. Pahlin’s opponent, anot
her dragon shifter named Telak, shifted nimbly on the balls of his feet. His dark eyes moved constantly, never leaving Pahlin. Blood trickled from the other man’s nose. Telak was barely an inch taller, with a more slender build. But Telak was a skilled fighter in his human form, comfortable in the more restricted ambience of the human world. Here in the human realm, magic was thinner, and Pahlin felt like all his power was just out of reach, passing through his fingers like water every time he grasped for it. Like most Kadirai, his combat training had been primarily in his powerful dragon form, teaching him every form of lethality with tooth and claw. His upbringing had not included bareknuckle brawling in this delicate, unarmored human body for profit.

  Telak had obviously adapted well to his new home. Veins shifted along his muscular arms as he clenched his fists and circled slowly. Pahlin mimicked his circular movement, eyes flitting from Telak’s face to his lower body to look for any clue of his next movement. Each heaving breath filled Pahlin’s nostrils with the sharp scents of sweat and blood. Flashing spots drifted in his vision from the blinding white lights shining from overhead.

  “Takh n’adan! Dehakre!” someone bellowed in Kadirai from the spectator seating. “Let’s go. Fight!” they demanded.

  That was easy for them to say. The simple act of breathing sent sharp stitches of pain through his right side, where Telak’s relentless fists had found their mark repeatedly. Sweat dripped into his eyes, burning with its salty sting. Pahlin had gotten in a few solid hits, but Telak didn’t seem any worse for the wear.

  As the two men circled without approaching each other, Pahlin heard another shout from behind him, this one in English. “Hit him already!”

  This would be over in a heartbeat if he could transform into his dragon form. A vicious swipe from his tail, or perhaps a shockwave of lightning, and Telak would be crumpled on the ground. Then again, half the people here were dragon shifters, including Telak. Even if it wasn’t expressly forbidden for him to transform here, it wouldn’t have been the advantage it seemed.

  Telak’s weight shifted, his dark eyes narrowing as he moved forward. His elbow drifted up in preparation for a punch, exposing the delicate ribs under his arm. The thin bones were outlined there, highlighted by the harsh light as his muscles shifted.

  There!

  Pahlin lunged, aiming for the man’s unprotected side. He caught Telak around the waist with one arm and slammed a fist into his exposed ribs. Telak groaned in pain. With all his concentration, Pahlin reached for the elemental lightning that sparked in him. It was just barely out of reach. Grasping desperately, he tried to channel it into Telak.

  The other man jolted, his body going rigid for a second as the weak current passed into him. His abdominal muscles tensed hard against Pahlin’s arm. Taking advantage of his momentary incapacitation, Pahlin pulled back and hammered a punch into Telak’s solar plexus. There was a satisfying rush of air from Telak’s lips, cool against Pahlin’s neck. But his opponent still didn’t quit. His foot swept Pahlin’s leg. As Pahlin lost his balance, Telak drove a sharp knee into Pahlin’s belly. He needed to breathe, but his lungs wouldn’t cooperate.

  Telak struck him with a vicious elbow to the soft place at the base of Pahlin’s skull, then flung him aside. Pahlin’s limbs were heavy and useless. Grit scraped his palms as he tried to recover. Telak pounced on him, slinging his muscular arm around Pahlin’s throat. Panic surged through him as his air was cut off. Pahlin tried to flip him off, but Telak bore him down onto his side, keeping that choking grip on him. Black pressed in around his vision.

  The shouts of the crowd receded as blood roared in Pahlin’s ears. The metallic sound of a gong pierced the haze, and suddenly, the pressure was gone. He was jostled as Telak extricated himself, and the world slowly came back. Through fuzzy vision, he watched the other man stand and pump his arms overhead. The crowd shouted in approval.

  What the hell was he thinking?

  One of the Pinnacle officials bent over Pahlin. Her pitying expression only added to the pain of his injuries. “You all right?” she asked in English. “Can you walk out, or do you need—”

  “I can walk,” Pahlin blurted. He squinted and got to his feet. Despite his loss, a handful of people clapped when he rose. With the heat of humiliation spreading through his aching chest, Pahlin couldn’t bring himself to look up at the faces in the crowd.

  “Follow me,” the official said. Pahlin kept his head down as he followed the woman through the same doorway from which he’d entered the arena a few minutes earlier. “First time, huh?”

  “Mm,” Pahlin said. His body ached more with each step as the adrenaline from the fight melted away. The back halls of the Pinnacle were dark and austere. The first door they passed was the small anteroom where Pahlin had waited for his first bout. Sitting there just minutes before, he’d foolishly thought that victory was a given. He was Kadirai, after all, and he had been good enough to beat even his older siblings in training back home. Clearly, things hadn’t gone as planned.

  Matching the plain décor of the Pinnacle, the smooth gray walls were broken only by a handful of darker gray doors. Small speakers on the ceiling piped in audio from the arena. The crowd was noisy under the voice of an announcer telling them to place their bets on the next match.

  “You been here long?” the woman asked.

  “A few months,” Pahlin said. Here was the human realm, in the humid place they called Georgia. Until two months earlier, Pahlin had lived in Ascavar, a world of magic where dragons reigned. Some of the Pinnacle spectators were probably born here, but their parents had come here from Ascavar like he had.

  “Magic is different here. Everyone says it takes a while to get used to it,” the official said. “Don’t be too frustrated.”

  “Thank you,” he said flatly. That was easy to say when she wasn’t the one who’d just had her face and pride pounded flat.

  The crowd roared again as the next bout began. At least they’d have something else to think about other than the royal ass-kicking he’d gotten.

  The official stopped at an open door that spilled a wedge of bright light into the dim hallway. Low voices came from inside. The official paused and handed him a small white envelope. Pahlin’s name was written on it in the angular script of his native language. The familiar symbols sent a wistful pang through him. “Your payment, as agreed.”

  He took the envelope and thumbed it open. It hadn’t taken long for him to develop the urgent hunger for those thin green papers that operated everything here in the human world. He’d been paid fifty dollars for the fight. His friend, Ariv, had told him he could earn easy money by fighting at the Pinnacle but he hadn’t mentioned a caveat that should have been obvious in retrospect; Pahlin had to win. At least they’d offered a small consolation for giving Telak something to sink his fists into.

  The official gestured to the door, clearly finished with him. “They’ll take care of you.”

  The room beyond the doorway was lined in cabinets and shelves. The shelves were packed with a combination of plain white boxes and plastic-bagged items alongside more familiar jars of herbs and ointments labeled in his native tongue. He wasn’t entirely familiar with the human world yet, but he recognized the healer’s workplace when he saw it.

  A woman in a long white jacket stood over a cot against the wall. With a small flashlight, she examined the eyes of the fighter lying on the cot. The harsh white light reflected off the sheen of blood trickling from a cut under his eye. At the sound of Pahlin’s entrance, she turned around. Her thin eyebrows arched as she looked him over. “Are you dying?” she asked in English.

  “No.”

  “Then sit, and I will be with you in a moment,” she said, turning her attention back to the man lying on the cot. She spoke quietly, moving her finger in front of his face. Her frame was small, which told him she probably wasn’t Kadirai. If she was working here, she was probably from his home world of Ascavar, but was most likely Edra, a less powerful race of shapeshifters. Th
eir grasp on magic was weaker than the dragons’, but they were far from being human.

  Pahlin sat on the cot on the opposite side of the room. The scratchy sheet covering the cot instantly stuck to his sweat-soaked skin. This was certainly not how he had dreamed life would be when he passed through Gate from his home and into the human world.

  With crystal clarity, he pictured the imperious expression upon his parents’ faces, not to mention that of his eldest sister who was a queen in her own mind. All three of them had discouraged him from taking this journey into the human realm, but it was his right. The khalle t’aradan, the Wandering, was permitted for young dragons like himself.

  “You will see, an’kadi,” his mother said. The childish term had made his skin crawl in irritation. “You will be home, where you belong, soon enough.”

  The problem was that he didn’t feel as though he belonged at home in Arvelor, either. His eldest sister Amira was destined for a powerful position in Queen Ferruli’s court, and his other sister Ravah had been called to be a healer. One of his brothers wanted nothing more than to serve as a soldier in the Storm Legion, and the other was a skilled craftsman who created breathtaking glass sculptures. As the youngest of five siblings, Pahlin had no claim to power nor a great talent like his sister or brother. There was little for him to do but to become a soldier, which had never felt like the proper fit for him. Even as a youngster, barely able to fly in a straight line, he’d dreamed of exploring the world beyond home, hoping to find the place where things made sense.

  His future had seemed dim when Amira and Ravah had let their forty-ninth birthdays pass without so much as a glance toward the human world. Pahlin would have never broken ranks and been the first of his family to Wander. However, his brothers, Agdin and Iban, had surprised him by choosing the khalle t’aradan. When Pahlin turned forty-nine, he chose to follow in their footsteps by exploring the human world before making his decision about where he would remain for the rest of his life.