by Meg Xuemei X
Only when Princess Athena Faya remembered everything would she summon her most lethal magic and find the path home. Only then could we all leave Pandemonium.
I had to make this work. Marrok and I would make this work.
Especially now that I had great things to look forward to, like sleeping in my mate’s bed every night and waking up in his arms every morning.
The Angel had fallen.
My smile sweetened at a furious howl in the distance.
A grey wolf sprang toward me like the whirlwind.
And that was my future.
Author’s Notes
Dear Readers,
I hope you enjoyed Claim the Wolf King, a standalone, also a prequel to The Wickedest Witch series. Kaara Nightshades told her part of the story before the fall of black-winged Archangel Gabriel.
The formidable Angel warrior falls through the crack of time and space onto a savage planet. Unfortunately for him, the Wickedest Witch will make him her unwilling slave in bed and war. She isn’t exactly nice, but she’s ice hot . . .
Look out for The Wicked Witch this October.
~ Meg
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Turn the page for a sneak peak of
The Wickedest Witch Book 1
The Wicked Witch
I stood in front of a shuttlecraft that looked like a large, steel lizard.
The shuttle’s rear had been squashed and the cabin door was half open. There was no sound inside. Its engine and power had been drained before it crashed, just like any other ships that had crashed on this planet.
As the silence prolonged, I believed whoever was inside was dead.
I waited for a few more seconds. With my ice magic shielding me, I stepped through the door.
Soon I was on the main deck. Just as I thought, the engine and lights were dead, as was the lone species. Usually, I didn’t give the dead a second glance as I went straight for the supplies. My witch tower’s inventory was running low, and we hadn’t had ships falling from the sky for three months.
Something caught my eyes.
The creature had massive, magnificent wings that were now limp. They were glossy, pure black. I couldn’t resist striding toward them, and squatted to touch them. They were soft, sensual to the touch. They would be the perfect decoration for the walls in my chamber, going well with my reputation as the wickedest witch.
I pondered on how to efficiently sever the wings and take them out of the jungle. Maybe I should come back after I took the food to my followers. Why would I care if they were happy with a full stomach? Simple. I needed them to keep fighting my war.
I shifted my gaze toward the specimen’s face. His golden hair was still wet. Had he just stepped out of his shower before he plunged to his demise on this planet? He was big and muscled. A warrior breed with the rare combined traits of wildness and aristocratic refinement. A black-inked, mystic tattoo twined up from his corded neck to his temples. I could read the ancient symbols. But I would get to that later. It took time to decipher their intrigues.
The male wore a space uniform, which couldn’t conceal his broad shoulders and hard chest. Too bad he was dead. I moved my finger and traced his cheek. It was still warm. Soon, he would be cold. Soon, his sun-kissed skin—which I favored—would go pale like mine.
My face was as pale as the bloodsuckers that occupied the other tower in the city. The lack of the sunlight in this damned place didn’t help tan my skin. I had to paint red witch marks under the hollow of my eyes to make myself distinguishable from the vampires.
I wondered if there was enough sun from my original planet, but even if there was, it had left no mark on my almost transparent, pale skin.
The creature’s eyelids fluttered. I jerked back my hand and jumped back. He stilled again. He was alive? How could one survive such a crash? I edged toward him cautiously and pressed two fingers on the column of his neck.
I felt a faint pulse, and at my touch, it grew stronger in an instant, as if it recognized my signature.
I blinked, and an electric current rushed into my arm through him.
I stood up, on guard.
The specimen groaned and opened his eyes. His foul mouth cursed.
I laid my boot on his neck.
The Angel
A blinding wave of pain shot through my wings, jolting me back to consciousness.
The damned vortex of time-portal had dragged my shuttle into it, and I had crashed on an uncharted planet with broken wings.
I needed to evaluate the situation, repair the damage, contact my crew, and get backup. But first, I needed to open my eyes.
I put a lot of effort into doing just that.
A female’s perfume mixed with the most enticing pheromones wafted toward my nostrils. I had never smelled anything like that. It was fresh, bright, and enticing.
Someone was in the ship with me.
A booted foot stomped on my neck, its hard tip pressed against my jaw. A foot on a great Archangel!
Rage shot through me. Who dared stomp on me?
I flashed open my eyes to meet a brown leather boot wrapped around a bare, creamy leg. The boot was still planted firmly on the joint of my neck and shoulder, and the foolish offender had no intention of removing it soon.
I almost laughed at her daunting attitude.
My hand lashed out like a whip, grabbing the slender ankle. I could break it like snapping a twig.
A mortal female with a heart-shaped face stared down at me. Her raven black hair was pulled back in a braid, though a few strands drifted across her face. Her fine skin was pale and nearly transparent. She wasn’t the type of beauty I used to bed, but there was something about her that made my heart pound harder than any female ever had, and I couldn’t look away from her.
Perhaps it was because her large, piercing gray eyes regarded me as a cat studied a mouse. No one had ever looked at me as if I was their prey, but she took me as one. I narrowed my eyes. Soon, she was going to realize her mistake and would regret it to no end for insulting me in this manner.
The perfume I smelled earlier trickled off this female, yet I couldn’t exactly figure out what species she was.
“Who the hell are you?” I asked roughly, giving her a chance to beg for forgiveness.
“Today is your lucky day, pretty boy,” she purred, her voice sweet and silver, sending a strange chill down my spine. “You’ve just met the wickedest witch in the universe.”
Pretty boy? I was ancient. I was immortal! I chuckled, half in amusement, half in annoyance.
That ticked her off.
An ice spear materialized from the mist, its sharp end pointing down, half an inch above my eyeball, the cold ice hissing.
I didn’t flinch, but took time to rove my gaze on her. She wore only three pieces. Her leather shorts barely covered her shapely hips, leaving her long legs completely exposed. Her breastplates covered limited skin and didn’t leave much to the imagination.
She hissed. The female intended to intimidate me, but I wasn’t paying any attention to her spear. Rather, I stared at her glorious breasts. Evidently, she wasn’t happy at me being distracted like that.
Then why the hell did she dress like that and flaunt her breasts in front of me?
I wouldn’t mind telling her that she was far from my type. I was always drawn to blonde. This dark-haired female wasn’t even among the most beautiful females I’d met across the broad universe in my long immortal existence.
Though there was something about this savage, but I wasn’t interested in finding out. As my casual gaze moved down from her breasts to her flat, flawless belly with indifference, I felt a wicked punch to my groin.
My body grew heavy.
My cock hardened insta
ntly.
I was aroused! At the same time, I was furious.
Wicked Witch (The Wickedest Witch Book 1)
Coming in October 2017
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075NMLDCP
THE DRAGONIAN’S WITCH
He abducts me to find his fated mate, unaware that I am she.
I am Freyja, the First Witch. I was born with a cruel curse: anyone I touch with my bare skin will die an agonizing death. That is, until a formidable, drop-dead gorgeous Dragonian prince invades my forest home.
The prince’s lust burns hot and bright for me, yet he resists, wanting his destined witch more. The oracle promises the witch will be his true queen and bring him the greatest kingdom on Earth. Knowing he’s the only man who can touch me, I crave his scorching caress. But I’ve sworn never to reveal that I am the witch. Not until he chooses me above her.
When the mating frenzy drives both of us to the brink of insanity, someone has to give, but it won’t be me.
Turn the page for an exclusive sneak peek of
THE DRAGONIAN’S WITCH
CHAPTER 1
My Pack
My name is Freyja. No one knows I am the First Witch. Those who knew were eliminated twenty-one years ago—a year after the Fey Empress and her consort, the High Prince of All Angels, decapitated the sadistic Angel King, my biological father.
Unfortunately, a band of my father’s old elite sentinels escaped the High Prince’s purge. They found out I was the last of King Agro’s bloodline and slaughtered the whole village where I was born. My mother, a genetically advanced human, managed to hide me and fought to her last breath.
The Angels have been hunting me ever since.
I removed the hood that concealed my face and quickened my pace. The morning sun shone on my skin and the wind tousled my flaming red hair. Ahead, waves of tea rose swayed and golden sunlight spilled over the ancient treetops.
The howls of wolves reverberated through the forest, and my heart leapt. They were near. They’d caught my scent.
A large, white wolf shot out of the forest, and three others followed him.
I hurled myself toward them and they howled with delight.
We crashed into each other and I leapt onto the white wolf’s back, riding him. He put on a great show to shake me off while the rest of the pack spun around us. My gloved hands gripped the wolf’s muzzle firmly, holding him in place.
He snarled, but I didn’t let go. It wasn’t the first time he’d bared his teeth at me.
Surrender, Blaez! I said.
Blaez tumbled to the ground and rolled, aiming to pin me under his weight. I jumped away just in time. Lenka, Ty-Ohni, and Hó’nehe pounced on my ankles and tripped me, yipping with glee.
Lenka, a beautiful red she-wolf, nipped at my ribs, and Ty-Ohni had his mouth on my shoulder. He knew better than to get his teeth near my throat; I wouldn’t tolerate that. Hó’nehe resorted to dragging my leg keenly, wanting me to play tug-of-war.
I conjured a picture in my mind. I’ll stay. I won’t leave again for a long while.
Blaez rose, then stretched, his big head on his paws, and watched me like a philosopher.
I shoved away the pack that crowded me and rose to a crouch. I’ll bathe.
And then we play? Lenka asked.
It depends, I said as I ran into my forest.
My pack shot past me.
I laughed, but the sound died in my throat as wing-shaped shadows swept overhead.
Angel hunters!
My blood turned to ice.
They never gave up on their hunt, but they shouldn’t have found me so soon. I’d been in the human city Palmyra for less than three days. Now that I was with my wolves, the hunters should have lost track of me. In the past, being with my pack had blocked the Angels’ sight and kept me under their radar.
I looked up at the sky, my heart in my throat. My wolves howled in fury, sensing my distress.
But there were no Angel wings beating in the clear sky. I blew out a breath of relief. My nerves were playing tricks on my eyes.
Let’s go. Bath! I called my wolves.
Light danced with shadows, wind sent down sweet-smelling blossoms, and the sunlight on my face made me want to sing.
Lenka and Hó’nehe soared into the gem-like stream, not bothering to ask my permission or wait for me. But then, my pack wasn’t like any other pack. They had a hybrid as their alpha.
Ty-Ohni stood guard and Blaez padded quietly beside me. He was moody, but I wouldn’t concern myself with his brooding. I needed to wash off my weariness, the grime, and the human scent.
I unfastened my cloak and tossed it onto a rock by the spring before I extracted a knife from my boot and dropped it on the ground. I did the same with the other two daggers strapped to either side of my legs. Earthling weapons couldn’t harm an Angel, but mine had been forged in the Angels’ homeland and could bleed them.
I’d stolen the first dagger, obtained the second from an Angel hunter who had nearly killed me before I sent him to Earth hell, and bought the third on the black market.
My eyes flicked to my tight leather gloves. I only took them off when I bathed. If anyone were to touch my bare skin, they’d die in agony.
Only my wolves were somehow immune, but I was still careful with them and tried not to touch them without my gloves. My bare touch didn’t drain their life force as it did other beings, but it weakened them.
I was the First Witch. I carried the curse of death touch.
I tugged at the glove on my index finger, ready to pull it off. Blaez, who had been watching my every move, turned his head and snarled.
Invaders! Ty-Ohni broke off toward the east.
Blaez raced after him. Lenka and Hó’nehe leapt out of the stream and shook the water off their shining furs, which splattered all over me, before charging after the white wolf.
Panic seared through my throat. The wings that had cast shadows over me hadn’t been a trick of my mind. The hunters had found me.
Angels were the mightiest, cruelest of all alien species. They’d once conquered our planet in two weeks. I didn’t expect to escape this time. My wolves would defend me to their last breath, but they were also my weakness when it came to battling the Archangels.
I could slip away right now to preserve myself.
I returned my crescent moon-shaped knife to my boot and shook my head in disgust at my cowardly thought as I picked up the other twin daggers on the forest floor.
I couldn’t hide forever.
I wouldn’t.
I removed my gloves, stuffing them in my pocket, and dashed after my pack. My consciousness pushed forward into Blaez’s.
Through his eyes, colors burst in front of me. Everything became super focused and vivid, yet everything—the trees, bushes, and blossoms— blurred past at his blinding speed.
Blaez, I called, lead the pack away.
Never, he answered. We defend you!
The Angel hunters are too dangerous, I said.
We’re more, he growled, as if I had hurled an insult at him.
The wolves rushed toward the threat without fear or reservation.
So, this was the showdown between me and my enemies.
The hunters’ silhouettes appeared in my field of sight.
CHAPTER 2
The Dragonian
Seven! the grey wolf, Ty-Ohni, reported. Dinner or snack?
Seven against the five of us.
They would feast on my pack if they killed us all, but I didn’t tell my brave wolves that. I didn’t want to hurt their feelings.
The first foe tore into my vision. He wasn’t an Angel—he had no wings—but that didn’t lessen the dread in me, especially when I saw how fast he moved.
In an instant, he grabbed my beta’s head, his hard face a foot from Blaez’s. He was a Dragonian warrior, yet not a pure blood.
The Dragonians were an engineering race. Hairless and blue-skinned, their eyes were cat-like, luminous. One of their tribes
even had horns.
This Dragonian had light brown skin and lush hair. His amber eyes were fierce like a tiger’s and they shone in the stream of sunlight.
Metal plates clasped his broad shoulders and forearms, but his herculean upper arms were exposed. They were thicker than my thighs. His sculpted armor was like a second skin and couldn’t conceal his muscled chest.
He was a half blood. His Dragonian father must have mated with an advanced human woman.
Blaez’s eyes bulged under the pressure of the Dragonian’s strong hand clutched on his throat, but that didn’t diminish his hate-filled glare.
My wolves wouldn’t stand a chance in this fight.
Peeling my mind off Blaez, I roared and flung a dagger.
It flew toward the Dragonian’s eye like dark lightning. I’d never missed a target and didn’t expect it to flounder this time either.
The Dragonian hurled Blaez away and the white wolf hit a high branch before falling to the ground. The Dragonian raised his armored forearm and blocked my dagger.
The rest of my pack crashed into the other men. Teeth and paws against punches and kicks.
I charged toward the Dragonian, my remaining two daggers clutched in my hands.
He withdrew a steel barbell from his waist, twisting the middle, and the barbell lengthened from both ends. He spun it like a fucking showman. When I reached him and thrust my dagger toward his heart after a clever feign, he parried it easily.
A surge of rage beat within me.
He evaded my ferocious slashes, wielding his steel to meet my twin daggers, jumping back as if to play nice before lunging at me again.
He moved like a lithe leopard, which consumed me with envy and made me angrier.
“By the way,” he called toward his companions casually in Earth’s native tongue. “Don’t kill the wolves.” His bright gaze searched my face.
There was nothing for him to see except my dark, blue eyes spitting fury and my flaming red hair tangled in the wind.
