Beyond The Veil: A Paranormal & Magical Romance Boxed Set

by Multiple Authors

Her eyes flutter open.

  Aden brushes the hair off her shoulder then leaves a trail of hot quivering flesh across her skin with his lips. “God, Sophia. I can’t get enough of you. Your kisses are sweeter than honey, and your body is like a drug.”

  “Sweeter than honey, really?” She giggles then shakes her head. “Did you really just say that to me?”

  “Mmm...I did.” Aden claims her lips. “I think I need another taste.” His tongue eases her lips apart. He explores the inner recesses of her mouth. When he breaks the kiss, he gazes at her with hooded eyes. “Love one another, but make not a bond of love: Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.”

  “You just quoted Khalil Gibran.” Her lips curl upward into a smile.

  “Do you like him?”

  “Yes. He was a very talented writer and poet.” Aden draws her into a tender embrace. “Are you sure about linking?”

  “Yes,” she says, barely above a whisper.

  “Sophia. If I link with you, if we link with each other, it’ll be an eternal bond. You’ll belong to me just as I’ll belong to you.”

  “I’m already yours, heart, body, and soul.” Sophia holds his gaze. “I was yours the first time we touched in the park.” She chews on her lower lip.

  “You have a question?”

  She nods. “You said something about me being your mate someday. What did you mean? What or how is that done?”

  “If you were my mate, I’d mark you...here.” He points to the side of her breast.

  “Why?”

  “Because it would bond us together, eternally.”

  “And linking doesn’t do that?”

  “No. Not in the same way.”

  She frowns.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Don’t you want to claim me, you know, as your mate?”

  “Do you want to be my mate?”

  She nods. “Yes.” She holds his gaze.

  A burst of magic encases both Aden and Sophia.

  Aden’s eyes zero in on the side of Sophia’s white, milky breast. Bowing his head, he exposes a gargouille canine. He sinks the tip of the tooth into her yielding flesh.

  Sophia’s body tenses. She cries out, but only for second then moans.

  He claims her lips and their bodies move, slowly.

  Sophia relishes every touch and sensation. A stream of magic flows freely between them. Her mind drifts. She thinks back to the words he quoted by Gibran. ‘Love one another, but make not a bond of love: Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.’

  “He’s right,” she whispers.

  “Who?”

  “Gibran.” A smile dances across her lips. “Love should be open and free-flowing between two souls occupying the same space.” She kisses him. “And love, it should never be bound or contained because love should always be free.”

  She holds Aden close, riding him. Her thighs quiver. She’s close to climax, but so is he, and she knows it. And like Aden, she too wants more, as well.

  Aden picks up their pace. Her muscles tighten around his shaft, milking his cock. He shudders under her and cradles her to his chest.

  “I’m yours, Sophia.” His eyes have a slight glow to them.

  “And I’m yours, heart, body, and soul.” She kisses his lips and loses herself in his touch, smell, and embrace.

  Redemption by April A. Luna

  Book of Light & Shadows Book 4

  Chapter One

  Sophia Mahoney

  SOPHIA STEPS into the entry of the bookstore. Thor leaps off the corner of the couch. His ears twitch, and he wags his tail, which makes his body gyrate back and forth.

  “Hey, boy?” Sophia pats his head and scratches under his chin. “Did you miss me?” Walking through the bookstore, Thor keeps pace with Sophia.

  She’s surprised by the amount of progress Logan and the crew have made. The literary sections are sleek and streamlined. The books, stacked neatly in the newly finished shelves, provide a clutter-free shopping experience. And about every four feet or so, round stepstools, that stand in as extra seating, line the area.

  Sophia approaches her uncle’s antique bookcase. Her lips curl upward into a smile. The piece of furniture has been fully restored. Even the beveled glass embedded in the ornately engraved wood looks like the original did. Sophia runs the tips of her fingers over the delicate craftsmanship. Her eyes water and she blinks back tears.

  “Does it pass inspection?” A tenor’s voice bounces off the walls.

  Sophia spins around on the balls of her feet. “Oh, Logan, it’s beautiful. I didn’t think it was salvageable. Thank you.” She brushes a rogue tear from the corner of her eye. “My uncle loved this bookcase.” She skims her fingers over the binding of a first edition Wizard of Oz’s novel, which was one of her uncle’s favorite fantasy stories. “You’ve even placed a few of his first edition books inside.” She stands on the tips of her toes and kiss his cheek.

  “We put the damaged books in the restoration room.” He wraps his arms around her, giving her a bear hug. “Do you think you’ll be able to restore them?”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  Logan takes her hand in his. “Come on. Let me show you the rest of the repairs.”

  “Wait. Where’s Aden?” Sophia looks around the room.

  “I’m over here,” Aden calls out from the other side of the room. “You two go ahead. I have to jump on this call.” He holds up his ringing cell. “But I’ll catch up once I’m done.”

  Sophia’s lips turn downward, and she frowns. She knows he has a business to run, but she’s still disappointed that he has to take a call at this moment.

  It’s nice to have him around, and she knows that he doesn’t keep regular hours, but it would still be nice to have him here with her right now as she walks through the bookstore.

  Logan tips her chin back and peers into her eyes.

  She sighs then chews on the inside of her lip.

  “Come on,” Logan says, softly. “Aden said he would join us when he’s finished.”

  “I know.” She smiles a small smile.

  She walks into the bookstore with Logan and listen to him explain what has been done, as well as what is still yet to be completed. The different sections of the bookstore look great, well, more than great, they’re wonderful.

  There’s even a children’s section with a small play area, along with a few tables and chairs. Baskets of books cover four corners of an alphabet rug with a Mother Goose theme.

  To her left, in the adult section, sit-in reading stations have been set up throughout the area with small round tables and chairs. The original hardwood floors have been refinished. But they still show a lot of character from years of use and traffic.

  Looking up at the walls, Sophia spies a few art reproductions of both old and new artists. Plus, several quotes are written on the walls by poets, such as Browning, Longfellow, Whitman, Dickenson, Frost, Poe, Gibran, and many other great men and women whose immortal words have graced the pages of books.

  When she enters the restoration area, she’s overcome by emotion. The room has been remodeled with modern workstations that now occupy the room. Overhead track lighting floods the room with an abundant light source.

  The room feels foreign. And the smell of new wood and modern equipment masks the cherished fragrances of her childhood. Sophia’s eyes water because she no longer feels her uncle’s presence.

  This workroom has always been the heart of the building. It’s where her uncle and Sophia spent most of their waking days together. It’s where they laughed and played. It’s where they cried. And most of all, it’s where they healed.

  “Sophia. What’s wrong? Tell me.” Logan draws her into his arms, holding her in a firm embrace. “You must learn to express yourself.”

  “Where is everything?” She bites down on her lower lip.

  “I pulled the old stuff out for the remodel.”

  “It’s all gone.” She gasps then co
vers her mouth. “He’s gone.” She gazes up at Logan through teary eyes.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “All trace of him has been wiped clean.”

  “Who’s gone? What are you talking about?”

  “My uncle.” She shakes her head. “This room. His room. It no longer feels the same. It’s cold and sterile.”

  “I’m sorry,” Logan says, softly. “I didn’t mean to take that away from you. I only wanted to make the room more efficient. I’m truly sorry.”

  “Where’s his workbench?” Her lower lip quivers.

  “I had it moved to an offsite location.”

  “So, you didn’t get rid of it?”

  Logan cups her face between his hands. “No. I just had it moved to a shop for repairs.” He draws her close to his chest then kisses the top of her head. “Please. Don’t cry, Sophia. I’ll make sure it’s brought back once it’s finished. Okay?”

  She nods then draws in a deep breath then lets it out, slowly.

  The door to her uncle’s office is open. When Logan releases her, Sophia takes a step back, and her eyes widen. “What have you done to his office?” She swallows hard, afraid of the response she’ll soon hear.

  “Other than boxing up a few things, nothing. All his belongings are still in there. Nothing has been moved out,” Logan replies. “Aden and I figured we’d wait until you were feeling up to going through things.”

  Sophia walks toward the office.

  Logan’s phone rings. He answers it. “I have to take this call. Will you be okay?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Logan walks away, phone in hand.

  Standing in the doorway of her uncle’s office, Sophia takes in the room. Uncle Hugo’s worn leather chair is pushed up against the desk. The room smells of Vanilla Cream. She steps into the office, and the sweet aroma permeates her nose. It’s a smell she’s associated with her uncle since she was a child.

  The fragrant blend makes her feel at home. Sophia sits down on his chair and grips the hard rubber handles. Her eyes scan the items on his desk and come to rest upon a small brown and cream-colored square tin.

  She lifts the container, and her fingers tremble. Gently, she eases the top off. Sophia closes her eyes and takes a slow, deep breath. The sweetness of the vanilla masks the bite of the tobacco. Right now, she’d give anything to smell her uncle’s pipe—to have him here with her.

  With a shaky hand, she sets the tin down on the desk then runs her fingers over her uncle’s worn, brown pipe. She used to love coming into his office when he smoked. The distinct aroma had always offered a level of comfort. It was what home smelled like. But now, with his death, that dream—a dream of home—has been shattered.

  Lightly, her fingers glide over the top of the desk. The oak is old and worn. She can feel the grooves in the grain of the wood where the varnish has rubbed off from years of use. Her uncle used to tell her that a person could learn a lot about another individual by the look and feel of his or her furniture. And that the oldest and most worn relics belonged to those with souls who cherished and respected the values of a time long since passed. Her uncle, he was a man born long after his rightful time but left this world before his time was done.

  To her left, she traces a dark ring. It’s where he used to set his cup of coffee each morning. Sophia blinks back tears and sighs. Why did he have to die? What did he have that was worth his life? I’d give anything to be able to see his smiling face once more.

  Rolling the chair back, she wraps her fingers around the scrolled handle, which is attached to the top drawer. It is cool to the touch. The drawer opens with a little resistance. And the telltale sound of wood on wood echoes around her.

  Sophia zooms in on several pens in the black holder she made in first grade, a stapler, paperclips, and a notepad before sliding the drawer shut. Slowly, she looks through the remaining two drawers, but she doesn’t find anything that would explain what happened to her uncle.

  She makes her way over to the metal filing cabinet. It’s locked. Sophia retrieves the key from the shallow, reddish dish on top of the desk. The small metal key turns with ease.

  Once unlocked, Sophia slides each of the filing cabinet drawers open and explore the contents. A strand of hair slides over her eyes and she blows it out of her face.

  Her eyes water because she can’t fathom why someone would want to hurt her uncle. He was a quiet man, who always kept to himself. She doesn’t recall a single customer ever yelling at him. So, what happened? What were the men looking for when they broke in? Whatever it was, they thought it was important enough for them to kill for it. The thought makes the muscles in her stomach tense and knot up.

  Sophia’s mind drifts to thoughts of the antique bookcase, and how it had a false bottom built into the frame. Her uncle’s journal flashes through her mind. What was written on the pages?

  She examines the rest of the furnishings in the office but finds nothing else of interest. Sitting down on the worn, black leather couch against the brick wall, she shakes her head.

  A packing box sits on the corner. It’s full of papers and junk mail. Looking through the letters, she finds a certified envelope from a mortgage company. Sophia slips the letter out of the open envelope and unfolds it. She skims over the content, and her eyes widen.

  Uncle Hugo, he took out a second mortgage several years ago on the building. And if she understands the contents of the letter, he fell behind on payments. If the information is correct, the mortgage company has already started foreclosure on the property.

  Why didn’t he tell me? I had a right to know. How could this happen? He’s always made enough to sustain a living and then some.

  She closes her eyes then cradle her head. Fuck. Is this how he obtained the cash needed for my last year of graduate studies?

  She opens her eyes. They drift down to a large tan-colored envelope. It’s addressed to her uncle. Sophia exhales a heavy sigh. Her hands shake. She extracts the contents and thumbs through them.

  A company, Acquisition Logistics, is looking to acquire the bookstore after the foreclosure along with everything in the building.

  Ever since she can remember, her uncle has been meticulous about bookkeeping. So if there’s more information to be discovered, it’ll be in the paperwork he saved.

  She goes back to the filing cabinet and looks through Hugo’s bank statements. The money in his checking and savings account, along with the $250,000 dollar life insurance policy her uncle had, isn’t enough to cover the accelerated balance owed on the delinquent loan.

  She gathers up the paperwork from the company looking to acquire the building. The next to the last page lists a contact name and phone number for the organization, Shane Vance.

  The clock on the wall reads ten minutes before noon. Great. They’re more than likely at lunch. She sits down at the desk, picks up the phone, and then she dials the number provided.

  “Hello. Acquisition Logistics...A Clarkson Company. How may I direct your call?” a woman asks on the other end of the phone. She speaks with an odd accent.

  “Wait. Did you just say this is a Clarkson Company?

  “Yes. How may I help you?” The woman’s voice is silky smooth like melted chocolate.

  “Shane Vance, please.”

  “May I have your name?”

  “Yes. Sophia Mahoney.”

  “One moment, please.”

  The phone clicks, and she’s placed on hold. Loud elevator music pipes through the receiver, which makes her jump. While waiting, she reviews the document, again. About half way through, she comes across a familiar name, Aden Clarkson.

  Her chest constricts, and she squeezes her eyes shut. She bites down on her trembling lower lip.

  “Hello,” a man’s voice comes on the line. “This is John Maxwell.” He draws in a noisy breath. “Vance is out of the office. How can I help you?”

  Sophia hangs the phone up. Tears brim her eyes. She stands then walks through the door into
the restoration room. Her body is numb. Slowly, she makes her way into the main part of the bookstore.

  In the distance, she hears familiar voices. She approaches both Aden and Logan, who turn around.

  “What’s wrong?” Aden takes a step forward.

  She narrows her eyes and shakes her head.

  His eyes trail down to the papers in her hand.

  Aden takes a deep breath then runs his hand through his dark, wavy hair.

  “So, when were you going to tell me?” Sophia fights to remain in control of her emotions. She can’t fall apart. Not here...not now.

  “Sophia,” Aden raises an arm and reaches for her. “Let me explain.”

  Chapter Two

  Aden Clarkson

  “YOU’VE HAD MORE than enough time to explain your actions.” The first wave of tears streaks down her face.

  “I can see you’re upset.” Aden reaches out for her arm.

  “Don’t touch me.” Sophia recoils and takes several steps back to counter his oncoming approach. “I think it would be best if both you and Logan left.”

  “Sophia,” Aden says. “It’s not what you think. Please, let me explain.”

  “The way I see it, Aden, you’ve had more than ample time to tell me what your company was up to, which leads me to believe you didn’t want me to know.”

  “You don’t have all the facts.” Aden clenches his jaws.

  “Let me tell you what I do know,” she says with a tremor in her voice. “You aligned your company to take control of my uncle’s assets...his property while he was still alive. The letterhead and ink on these papers made that extremely clear.” She takes a deep breath, pauses and then regroups. “So, did you know who I was when you saw me on the jogging trail?”

  “No. I didn’t. I didn’t know who you were until you walked up to the bookstore.”

  “Tell me, was I just an extra bonus or perk on the side tied to your acquisition deals? A notch in your proverbial belt?” Anger flashes in her eyes.

  “It wasn’t like that,” Aden says, softly. He takes hold of her arm.

  “I said don’t touch me.” She twists out of his grasp. “You lost that right when you lied to me.”