Ram Wild_A Zodiac Shifters Paranormal Romance

by Decadent Kane

  Ram Wild (Aries Cursed # 2)

  A Zodiac Shifters Book: Paranormal Romance: Aries

  by Decadent Kane

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and places are either the product of the writer’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is coincidental.

  Ram Wild (Aries Cursed # 2)

  A Zodiac Shifters Novel

  Copyright © 2018 Decadent Kane

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner without express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Edited by: Patricia Eddy

  Cover art: Raven Blackburn

  CHAPTER ONE

  Jace kicked the kitchen trash can over. Fuming.

  The golden fleece should have been here. He had stored it lock tight in the guest house safe himself. Who had gotten to it, and how? His nostrils flared as he fought not to shift into his ram form. Though he felt his forehead elongate. He'd checked the fleece last night and this morning. Only four days left before his curse forced him to leave town, and he lost the prized family possession? What kind of Aries Guardian was he if he lost something so significant?

  Irresponsible. His brother's judgement echoed in his mind.

  If Jace didn't get the fleece back, he'd be proving Demetri right— he was a screwup. His brother didn't care if Jace made a lot of good choices too; all Demetri ever saw were the wrong ones. It irked him to no end that Demetri couldn't give him some damn credit. Even if Demetri was the older brother, even if he had managed to get his shit together. They walked the same shoes, the same rope, the same line of crap bestowed upon them via the Aries curse. Jace's loyalty to Demetri should have been enough. It seemed nothing ever was.

  In all his time guarding the fleece, this was the first time he'd lost it. He'd have to search the entire damn town on his final days instead of bedding some cutie. When he got his hands on whomever ran off with that fleece... he'd...he would strangle them! They'd get what was coming, and there wasn't a soul in this world who could hide from Jace as long as they had the fleece in their possession.

  He played absently with the small silver chain around his neck, taking some comfort in its presence. The only thing he had left of his mother. His only other family were his Aries cursed brothers, and they didn't "hang out." Aside from Jace, there were two other brothers considered to be Aries Guardians, protecting mythical aspects like shifters, or, in Jace's case, the fleece, which happened to have a tracking spell put on it a while back. A precaution Jace had taken just for this reason. But he'd never had to use it... until now.

  The spell was attached like a precious lifeline, a thread of the gods so to speak, to the ram head tattoo on his forearm spelled by the very ink that penetrated his skin. It was the second tattoo he'd ever gotten. The first he was born with, a curse by Aries to wander the earth just like Jace's father, Krios. The old-fashioned warrior helm tattoo was his constant reminder of the life he would never have unless he could find his life mate. And if he ever did the helm would vanish, removing the curse. In over two hundred years, he'd never met her, but not for a lack of trying. He had come to one simple understanding. He would never have a real home.

  Jace turned his arm over so he laid eyes on the ram tattoo. All he had to do to activate the tracking spell was say the magic word. The image was a basic tribal design, nothing special.

  "Évrima." As he spoke the word, the design warmed his skin and shifted positions on his arm. He half expected to feel some kind of itching sensation like when an insect crawled on him, but the warmth was the only indication something had changed, other than actually seeing the tattoo shift. The magician who gave Jace the spell told him to follow the pointed horns. The moving ram head pointed its horns west before settling back into the regular tribal design. It gave a golden glow before changing back to the blue/black ink. The thief couldn't have gotten far in just a few hours.

  This last year, Jace’d had a blast in Asheville, North Carolina, and not just because it had great outdoor activities, sightseeing, and a rousing nightlife, but as a favorite romantic destination in the US, it also had tourists. Jace loved tourist season in big cities. He had his choice of women and could quickly find a fun fling whenever he wanted. The plethora of available women was sublime. He picked tourist cities on purpose whenever he had to move. He would be a little sad to leave such a gorgeous place with the Nantahala National Forest and the mountains. They were some of his favorite views. He made sure to take in all the views he could given his Aries curse would never let him come back. He could never spend longer than a year in one place, and his time was almost up. Which made the thief's timing extremely unhappy.

  Jace opened the fridge and pulled out his half-eaten sub sandwich. He took big bites and pulled the door to the rented guest house shut, locked the dead bolt, and headed for his truck. He'd given the nice old couple he rented from a lump sum at the start of his year. He had plenty of cash saved over the years from doing odd jobs. He considered himself a jack of all trades. Hell, he'd even spent some time fixing up the old guest house. The main reason he liked the place so much was it was just outside the city and had a gorgeous view of the forest. Especially around midday when the sun rays hit the trees and valleys just right making them seem to glow. It would forever be one of his top favorite sights.

  By the gods, he would miss this place. Swallowing the last remnants of the three big bite turkey sub, Jace faced west, which pointed him right toward the forest. The afternoon sun danced along the mountain slowly fading below. It would be a few hours before sunset. If the thief thought the coming night would sway Jace's pursuit, he was sadly mistaken, though Jace anticipated finding the culprit way before sundown. He was headed straight for the forest and had no intention of letting the thief get away. Even if night descended upon him. He was a ram shifter, he could handle himself as long as he didn't have to confront a snake. Jace shivered at the thought and almost stomped his feet but stopped himself. He hated snakes. The slimy, slithery, loathsome reptiles invaded his sense of peace with even a mere thought.

  The truck door closed. Jace turned the key in the ignition, and the engine rumbled to life. He pulled out of the back driveway and headed toward the main road. Once he reached the forest, he'd park and hike if need be. He glanced over at the backpack he kept on the passenger floorboard in case of emergency. It held a change of clothes, water, some food, and a medical kit. He was immortal, but everyone else around him was usually human. He liked to be prepared. His truck roared down the main highway. Jace rolled the window down and hung his elbow out. The breeze shuffled his hair. Summer season was nearly upon Asheville and all the beauty it beheld waited for someone to come find it. He sighed, knowing this year, it wouldn't be him.

  ***

  Jace pulled off to one of the side areas and parked his truck along a dirt pullout. Trees surrounded him, tall, beautiful, almost romantic. But no female graced his arm to share it with. If he drove farther, the road would head off in the opposite direction he needed to go. He double checked his ram tattoo to make sure the horns still faced the same direction. It shimmered gold as if responding to his internal thoughts, but the horns remained west even here. Jace stepped out of his truck with backpack in tow. The door slammed closed, and he hit the button that locked it down with a beep.

  Should be easy enough to find the thief, get the fleece, and head back into town before the night was over. Maybe his week wouldn't be wasted after all. Slipping h
is keys into his pocket, he headed into the trees of Nantahala, the Joyce Kilmer Memorial Forest section. The trees in the area tended to be more than one hundred feet high, and many were over four hundred years old. Jace could feel the living magic within them, a divine entity of nature that coursed through the roots nourished on more than just the soil. How else could anyone explain trees like this? A warmth came over his tat, and Jace looked down to his forearm. The ram had shifted, pointing off to the right more northwest. Jace followed the direction, watching his forearm, barely dodging uprooted trees and even hemlocks that had been killed due the current insect infestation. Woolies were killing trees, the humans believed the were a type of aphied, but tree related. Fallen limps and stumps were strewn all over.

  The deeper he trudged, the more energy wafted up from the ground. Each step not only brought him closer to the fleece, but closer to some very deep and old magic. Jace had seen nearly everything. He was two-hundred-one years old, but there was a slim possibility that maybe he hadn't seen it all. He should have seen everything within a year, but even mid size cities had a hell of a lot to see like here in Asheville, apparently. Of course, there was magic much older than Jace or his brothers or possibly even his father. Like from those of the Gods, Poseidon was a legend to mortals, a myth, but his magic was real. Powerful energy coursed through the earth as all magic did. Some energies more concentrated than others and here some much older than he'd known before. His curiosity piqued, he continued on, changing directions as the ram shifted along his arm. He didn't know how many turns he’d actually made when the tribal ram glowed so brightly it burned on his skin. He finally looked up, thankful he hadn't fallen on his face thus far. A great white oak tree stood tall and fierce in front of him. He could almost see the magic barrier protecting the tree. A cabin not far from it.

  Jace stopped his mouth from dropping open. There was no way this was what he thought it could be. In all his travels, he'd never even heard a glimmer of a rumor that one of their kind lived among humans, and he sure as hell hadn't seen one in ages. Myth didn't just vanish, it camouflaged the magic and kept on living. Jace walked around the very wide girth of the tree's base. Magic followed his every step as if keeping track of him as he moved. It didn't make him feel unwelcome, but was more like an animal following at his heels waiting to see what would happen next or trying to get some attention. He reached out with shaky fingertips and touched the white bark in awe. His heart pattered in excitement at the possibility of what this magic meant.

  "And who, pray tell, would wander so lost upon my land?" An angelic voice sounded from the other side of the tree. The kind of voice that lured humans to far more than they bargained for. A kind of voice even Jace wasn't completely immune to as an immortal.

  Jace moved, side stepping along the wide base of the tree to get a clear view of that sing-song voice, so soft and sweet in his ear. Firm rounded legs met his gaze first.

  No shoes.

  The green of the grass was in stark contrast to the pale pink flesh. His gaze meandered up shapely calves to bare thighs and a short white skirt that flowed in the slight breeze. Wide feminine hips made him gulp. His gaze continued up, lingering briefly on more than two handfuls of cleavage tucked into a white blouse. He could even imagine the weight of those perfect breasts against his palms. Dark ringlets of hair graced her beautiful curves. When he finally looked upon her face, big brown eyes encased in dark lashes met his. He couldn't help but stare at the beauty before him. It was then, in that brief moment, recognition hit and he knew what kind for magic would be involved, and it was old magic indeed, that of nymphs.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Echo stared at the tall handsome stranger touching, nearly caressing, her tree. Curiosity mixed with surprise kept her firmly in place. How had he found his way here? Usually she lured men in with singing and magic, because she couldn't leave the area of her tree. She could only go as far as the roots. Her life force was interwoven with the great white oak for all time. Not all nymphs were rooted to one place, but Echo had been coaxed in by the land long ago, before the humans moved into the area. She didn't know why the land chose her, but this was home, and a stranger had set foot upon it.

  Some form of mortal bag slung over the man's broad shoulders. Her bare toes curled into the soft, cool grass. Taking comfort in the feel along her feet. The heated gaze he used to look her up and down should have been expected. All mortal men found a deep attraction to her as a nymph, even if she was the black sheep of her kind. She gave him a hint of a smile. Flirting just a touch, unsure what had brought him here, she was not willing to turn her full charm on him.

  "Forgive the intrusion, but I've lost something and am searching for it." The man stepped around Echo's oak tree. A shimmer of magic reached out toward her like little tendrils, feeling the air around them, seeking other forms of magic. She couldn't see them, but she could feel them as if they were right there in front of her.

  He wasn't mortal.

  "What ever it is, you won't find it here. Please make your way out of my forest." Echo took a step back, cautious of what he might do and eager to stay beyond arms’ reach. If he wasn't a regular human, then he was likely trouble, the kind that wanted nymphs for their power or to chain up and use as slaves. Some even tried to capture a nymph to use sexually. She'd heard terrible stories passed down from the ages, including from her own grandmother. Poseidon, god of the sea, had stolen her grandmother. Whisking her off to a remote island full of sheep and turned her into an ewe just so he could have her all to himself, and the man in love with her would never find her. Men were men—god or human. They all wanted the same thing. Sex.

  The immortal man looked down at his forearm where something on his arm, she wasn’t close enough to see, shined like a gold, then back up at Echo with his brows drawn together. "What I'm looking for is here, I assure you. I mean you no harm, nymph. I'm only after my fleece." He said the words as if they should ease any trouble she felt about him. But they didn't.

  Echo took another step away from him, even though his deep baritone voice called her forward. She didn’t step back out of fear, but because she happened to have the fleece. Technically, it belonged to her, after all her grandmother bore the golden sheep from which the fleece had come. That meant Echo's lineage had every right to it after Poseidon tricked her grandmother. She had no intention of giving it back to this guardian standing before her as if he owned the entire land, cocky in his self-confidence. Plus, she needed it. "Look elsewhere."

  She had to save her beloved trees.

  Fahd, a dark entity hell bent on stealing energy from any source was pilfering magic from her forest, using nasty little magical insects humans called hemlock woolies. They were little crafted minions of the dark and sinister, someone out to consume magic, siphoning it, and she could feel Fahd’s power growing stronger. She couldn't bear the thought of all her trees dying, let alone the magic being torn from the land. Without the magic tying her to this place, she would become nothing more than dust along with her beautiful oak.

  The forest would die without her.

  She would die without the magic and the forest.

  The man stepped toward her casually, hands up as if he didn't want to spook her. Echo tilted her head to the side as she considered what kind of immortal he might be. "It's unfortunate you don't want me here, but I assure you my fleece is here and I won't be leaving without it. Now we can be pleasant and exchange names or..." He shrugged as if she should know what came next.

  She didn't know what his "or" meant, but she could be civil. He could look until his eyes fell from his head and he would not find the fleece unless she revealed it to him. She had nothing to worry about. Besides, even as an immortal he was a pleasant sight for the eyes. From his strong jawline and the stubble dusting his face to his broad shoulders and what she assumed was a firm ass, she could appreciate the view of his physique. He couldn't know she had the fleece, and since he basically said the fleece was all he wanted, he wasn't out to
catch her like others would, she could have a little fun. It had been a while since she'd had a man around who could handle being near a nymph. The last one was nearly dead by the time she managed to set him free; he was the one who had retrieved her golden fleece only hours ago.

  Mortal men were lured in by her magic pheromones and appearance, but they couldn't stay around for long or they would die from the craze. Her magic was too strong—even she couldn't protect the mortal beyond releasing him and hoping he did not return. Her very voice beckoned them. One sound, one look, and they would be trapped until she could pull enough magic from the land to release them. And forget having any pleasure with one, as that would kill them before the end. To say she hadn't had a real man in a while was a mythical understatement.

  "I'm Jace Argo." He gave a slight bow without taking his gaze off her.

  She curtsied, watching him. "My given name is Echo." His name resonated with her. There was a story her grandmother used to tell about the argonauts and the golden fleece, something about a man fighting off a dragon and gaining the fleece for a king. Is it possible he was a descendant? Would that make him her enemy? Did he know how the fleece came to be?

  "Beautiful." Jace smiled, showing a row of white teeth.

  "Honeyed words won't get you far." Echo twirled a strand of her dark curls around a finger. She enjoyed hearing him speak.

  "Let me be more direct then. I know you have my property." Jace leaned back against her oak. Echo shuddered at the power coming from him. He had to be over one hundred years old. His natural magic caressed her tree; she could feel it as if his very hand were running up her thigh. She resisted the urge to moan at the magical touch.

  "Your property?" Echo tried to ignore the heat betwixt her thighs.

  Jace looped his thumbs into his pants pockets. "Come now, you know very well what I'm talking about. I have a tracking spell on the fleece. Hand it over." His smug demeanor made her balk at his orders. As if she would do anything just because he said so. He hadn’t even said please.