Frost watched, as Jericha clutched her purse to her chest and pushed her legs through deep snow in the direction of the mini-mall parking lot. She had on a long quilted red jacket that flapped wildly around her knees, and her light blonde hair, tinted blue by the moon, slapped her in the face like furious elves, as she braved the harsh winter elements. He could hear her labored breaths, as she trudged along, feeling the cold like it was his own, as it nipped playfully at her nose, leaving behind the rosy color of blush, to match her cheeks.
And there, hovering around her, like a winter flurry of snowflakes and light, was the telltale glow of true love’s aura. It was a mark placed upon her as a signal to Frost that it was time to pass over the reins of winter to his daughter. Jericha’s soulmate would be coming for her soon. The aura never lied.
Jericha was going to need every last bit of winter he could bestow upon her if she were going to survive him. Frost would hit Jericha with a chill so deep, it would freeze the veins in her body. The gift of winter came with that deadly a price. This meant that in order for Jericha to survive her inherited gift, she would need to absorb the inferno that scorched and raged inside of her counterpart, her soul’s mate, a creature born of fire. His power, a different element to wield, was the only thing in existence hot enough to combat the chill that would ultimately freeze Jericha solid, from the inside out. After receiving her new powers, Jericha would have a single day to join with her soulmate, or all would be lost.
Jack Frost zeroed in on a spot located dead center of Jericha’s back, right between her shoulder blades. As soon as he hit that mark, the countdown would commence. Jericha would have until Christmas morning to find her soulmate and subsequently join with him, or her heart would freeze solid forever. And if Frost decided to snub his duty for the sake of his daughter’s assured welfare, his negligence would plunge the world into a never-ending ice age. So you see, he hadn’t a choice; he had to give Jericha the gift. He just prayed that she’d find her mate in time.
“This will only hurt for a second, sweet child.”
***
The night was cold. Almost too cold. But Jericha loved the snow and preferred to be in the thick of it.
She sucked in a mouthful of crisp air and jumped over snow-covered bushes, ran down a small hill, and landed with a squash on the ground. Full of excitement, she pulled her legs free from the deep craters they made. Once she found firm footing on the icy pavement, she shrugged her bag into her hands and unzipped it. Her fingers were cramped up and nearly useless from the cold, but she managed to retrieve the car keys stashed in the side pocket in record time. She’d been downright giddy to get off work early, and it showed in the added pep in her step.
“Ooh, I’ll make Christmas cookies,” she said, putting a voice to her good mood.
The powder-covered evergreens surrounding her were added inspiration.
For as long as Jericha could remember, she loved to bake, especially around Christmastime. She’d considered enrolling in culinary school, or something like it, but never could find the time or money to make it happen.
An icy wave of awareness cut through her musings and skittered down her neck. The eerie feeling replaced her smile with a frown. She told herself the cold chill that fell across her shoulders was nothing more than a drop in temperature and continued on, sloshing her heavy snow boots through puddles of melting ice, until she reached her car. That was, until she heard the brittle sound of branches breaking behind her. But when she spun around, nothing was there.
Cursing under her breath about being paranoid, she turned back to her car.
There was another crackle of wood, and that time, when she gazed over, it was a flash of light across the lot and way up in a tree that caught her attention. It had the tiny hairs at the back of her neck standing on end. Her heart thrummed like crazy at the otherworldly sight of something moving in the tree. She flinched at the light that seemed to morph into two slashes that blinked at her every few seconds. The slashes were oval in shape and shone brightly through the darkness, resembling the eyes of the Cheshire cat.
Curiouser and curiouser.
“Everything’s okay,” she whispered, as a way of calming herself down. “It must be an owl or a squirrel.”
She turned, stumbling over her own feet, as she reached out and tried to stick the door key into the lock. Her hand was shaking uncontrollably, so she kept missing the hole.
“Damn it,” she hissed.
After a calming breath, she tried again.
The key slid home, but not in time.
“Ow!” she cried out, as what felt like a lightning bolt of ice hit her square in the back.
The impact slammed her shoulder into the car and sent her flying sideways, while the keys bounced off the ground. Her back skipped off the trunk, to land five feet away. Moaning, she caught a glimpse of the clouds, as they moved across a sea of stars.
Her last thought before she blacked out was… This can’t be how I die.
Chapter Two
The Dragon Blade Keep
***
Connor McClave, Sentinel of the Dragon Blade, slowly roused from unconsciousness. He grabbed at his aching head, raking his fingers, in frustrated jerks, through his hair. His bare ass was cold, planted on the freezing stone floor of the shower, where he’d passed out. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what the hell had happened. With a curse, he pushed himself up to a standing position and grabbed a towel to wrap around his freezing balls. He hated to be cold; his entire being was a conduit for heat, and he craved that burn.
Confusion furrowed his brow, as he strolled into the adjoining bedroom. Connor sent a command to the fireplace, via thought, and flames sprouted, warming the room and his dragon-spirit. In a single motion, he stripped the damp cloth from his body and tossed it to the floor.
Connor caught a metaphysical scent in the air, nearly making him shudder. The scent was sweet, tempting to his senses. He stopped abruptly in his tracks. Whatever the fuck that smell was, it made his dick swell instantly and his heart rate thunder out of control. He groaned.
Sweet Jesus.
He fell to his knees, while his primal instincts hijacked his body, taking it over completely. Lips clamped tight, he rode a much too familiar agony that sent him bounding down a magical path of becoming. The bones at the juncture between his shoulder blades widened, readying for the change. He clenched his fists.
“Fuck, no!” he snarled. “This can’t be happening!”
Thick blue wings ripped through his flesh, and talons black as coal sprung forth from his fingertips, to slice through empty air. His dragon-spirit was emerging in answer to the mating call.
Connor had seen plenty of his brethren fall prey to that unyielding magic—one so potent that when the mating took hold, the dragon under its influence could pick up on the scent of his female from a thousand miles away. Yet he’d never seen it happen, nor had he heard of it happening, to a Blue Dragon, a mighty Sentry of the Dragon Blade.
Each dragon afflicted by the call reacted differently to its influence. Most were forced into shifts if their mates weren’t near them, a circumstance born of pure animalistic instinct to hunt them down and keep them safe. Apparently, Connor had a mate to pursue.
With all his might, he dragged his body up, onto unsteady legs. His black pupils, already enlarging, slashed across the room, to the closed French doors. Connor sent a telepathic command that caused the doors to slam open, freeing the fresh mountain air to rush across his blazing skin.
He bolted for the balcony. Muscles throbbing, expanding, his skin flushed blue. The change was going to happen, whether he liked it or not. Clawed feet tapped across the stone balcony, as the dragon in half-shift leapt up and over the banister.
Dragon-spirit’s mighty wings unfurled, to soar into the open air, as majestic blue extensions of the beast, beating a steady path, kept time with his newly awakened heart.
He soared over snowcapped mountain tops, a vast spread that hid
his brethren, the other three Sentries of the Dragon Blade, and their home from the ever-changing world around them. He could sense his female was near, as he smelled the sweet scent of her skin, no more than a hundred miles away.
The beast circled the small town of Winter Haven, nestled at the base of a tall mountain. It took little time to locate his mate.
He quickly zeroed in on a field, where her scent was strongest. He soared forth, with his focus on a petite body. The image became more distinct by the second, as he closed in, giving him a clear view of the woman below him.
What he saw almost took his fire away. She had the most beautiful features, framed by hair so blonde, it was almost white. With full red lips and skin flushed light pink, her still form was splayed out, half-hidden under a canvas of ice and snow, like an angel buried alive.
His fated mate was in trouble. That was unacceptable. The massive beast stilled in midair, wings flapping.
Protect, save your mate.
He turned around in the sky, setting a course to sail another path above her. His predatory gaze raked to the left, then to the right. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of three tiny creatures, skittering around her like bugs. Tension throbbed in his skull at the sight of them, making the fire in his lungs burn for release.
His claws readied to rip to pieces the beings that would dare tread near his mate, while she was in such a fragile state. His jaw opened, exposing his razor-lined mouth, and fire spewed out, painting the night sky crimson with warning.
Chapter Three
Jericha moaned, as she woke with a splitting headache and an all-consuming sense of change. Disoriented, she sat up and watched, as sheets of ice fell in thick chunks from her chest. The bottom half of her was still buried underneath a blanket of about four inches of fresh snow. She assumed that she must have been lying there for a while.
She shivered against the ice but soon realized she wasn’t as cold as she should have been. In fact, judging by the depth of her frosty coffin, she should have frozen to death, or at least be suffering from hypothermia. She groaned softly, thoughts abandoned, as her joints and lungs protested against any expenditure of breath or the slightest movement. It was like she was strapped to a torture rack, while her arms and legs were being pulled from their sockets, little by little.
She tried to stand but fell to her knees in pain. After closing her eyes, she took a few deep breaths to try again. That’s when a loud thundering roar shook the earth beneath her. Her ass smacked hard against the frozen ground. Wincing, Jericha looked to the sky and caught sight of a shimmering wall of fire. A scream formed in her throat at what she saw, only to sputter out into nothing but a ball that no emotion could get past.
More sound rang out, pulling her eyes from the sky, as small voices chimed all around her. Their undecipherable words were frantic and way too close for comfort. With wide eyes, she waited, holding her breath, trying to see something. Several yards away, she spotted them, bounding over snow mounds and parked vehicles. Three tiny men with green pointed hats were closing in.
This can’t be happening.
One of the tiny creatures wore a smile that pulled his round rosy cheeks up, almost level with the tip of his pointy ears. The reddened flesh put emphasis on the little fellow’s bright green mischief-laden eyes. The other two looked serious, like they were on a dire mission. Their features were just as rosy as the first, but both had thin faces and long white beards, making them look considerably older. As they neared, Jericha could smell the spicy aroma of cinnamon and the sweet fragrance of chocolate and peppermint. The pleasing scents instantly reminded her of Christmas.
Jericha stayed motionless, with one eye frozen on the tiny men, barreling toward her.
Thud!
Her heart fell to her gut.
Roar!
Her gaze shot forward, at the booming sounds, which were ricocheting around her. She watched in horror, as ice and snow fell in chunks to the ground at the feet of an enormous creature, as it landed in the clearing on the other side of the parking lot. In her peripheral vision, she could also see the little men, skidding to a stop at the front of her car. They didn’t dare show themselves to the monster.
This is a dream, she thought, as she watched the little guys poke their heads around the bumper of her car, peeking upward, at the beast that towered over everything, including the buildings and trees.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Under the cover of night and nothing else, it was on the move. Terrifying blue eyes, set in a massive head, zeroed in on Jericha. The earth shook, as the beast charged in her direction.
“Hurry! We must flee the dragon!” one of the bearded trolls, or hobbits… or whatever the hell it was, hollered at her.
“Quick, Frost, run!” the one with a perpetual grin said.
Frost? How did he know my last name?
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Not important, she decided.
All pain forgotten, Jericha pushed herself off the ground. Snow chunks toppled from her lap, to fall at her feet. Fleeing was exactly what she’d planned on doing… and there was no ‘we’ involved in her getting the hell out of Dodge.
She studied the dragon, the more deadly of the two hallucinations that she was apparently having. Smoked curled thick out of its abysmal nostrils, and the pupils of his eyes were black slits, like those of a reptile. The creature’s body was longer than it was tall, the scales stacked one over the other, fully covering its body to form an impenetrable shield. The scales were midnight blue and shone boldly, like a million sapphires. Its wings, spiked sharp at the tips, were tucked against its back. Obsidian barbs traveled from the dragon’s brow, then up and over its skull, to continue along its neck, enlarging, adding armor down its back. The beast had thick black horns that curled back, toward its ears, and long talons sprouted from its colossal feet.
It looked like it wanted to eat her.
Screw that, she thought, as she bolted in the direction of her apartment, which she was thankful was in the opposite direction of the creature.
As she ran, a miraculous thing occurred. It was like the faster her legs pumped, the more she fell into a zone. Her breathing evened, her heart rate slowed, and she could taste the snow falling onto her lips and melting across the soft flesh of her tongue, coating it like sweet honey that fueled her. Her senses sharpened with each snowflake that touched her skin, as if they were all a part of a magical presence that swirled in the air around her.
Before she knew it, she was coming to a stop at her front door. Puzzled by how quickly she’d arrived, she looked behind her, at the two flights of stairs she hadn’t remembered climbing and the puddle of ice and snow left in her wake.
But that’s impossible.
She’d been on the run for less than a minute, and three long miles separated her work from her apartment. She frowned, directing all her focus on the door.
Just get inside.
She grabbed the doorknob, ignoring the fact that her stomach was fluttering with excitement. She’d just run three miles, three full miles, in under a minute. And as confusing and frightening as all that was, it was also pretty damn cool.
Once inside, Jericha paced her tiny apartment. The one bedroom was painted in calming shades of brown and blue. In the living room, there was a couch, a single chair, and a bookcase up against the far wall. A round table with four chairs sat in a modest-sized dining room, off to the side of the kitchen. The kitchen was her favorite room in the apartment because of an eye-catching island, with a granite countertop, that separated the two rooms. She spent most of her free time in there, where a lingering scent of sugar and cinnamon hung in the air.
She froze, when she felt an odd sensation in the space around her. She then took two steps back, as a wobbly shape began to form and come to life in vivid color in the center of her living room.
Jericha closed her eyes tight, willing the apparition to go away.
“This isn’t real. This isn’t real,” she kept re
peating to herself.
She could hear the tapping of heels, footsteps looming closer, and then a low clearing of a woman’s throat.
“Don’t be frightened. I won’t hurt you.”
Jericha slowly opened her eyes, to see a young woman standing in front of her, with long blonde hair that fell in loose curls down her back. She wore a light pink cashmere sweater, with eyes a unique shade of silver-green that shone brightly with intellect.
“Who are you?” Jericha asked, as she noticed a mark in the shape of a wolf’s paw above the crest of the woman’s left breast.
The stranger brushed glitter from her leather skirt and smiled, flashing Jericha a set of perfect teeth.
“I’m the Goddess of Winter, Companion of Wolves, Queen of the Dead, yada, yada, yada, the list goes on.” She offered up her hand in greeting. “But let’s skip all the droning formalities. I prefer to be called Skadi.”
“Where did you come from… Skadi?”
Even the name sounded unreal on her lips.
“I reside on a separate plane of existence.”
The urge to run tingled down Jericha’s legs. The woman shouldn’t have been there, popping into her apartment, like some kind of genie or self-proclaimed… goddess.
Ignoring the woman’s hand, Jericha said, with conviction, “You are just a figment of my imagination, brought on by a severe concussion that I sustained, while I was….”
When she was what? The last thing Jericha remembered, before all hell broke loose, was walking to her car after work, then blammo! She’d been hit by something.
Hmm. Could I be a victim of a hit and run accident, maybe? Yes, that has to be it.
“My brain is jumbled, because I was in an accident. Now shoo, go away, please. And take your dragon and goblin mirages with you.”
Alphas Unwrapped: 21 New Steamy Paranormal Tales of Shifters, Vampires, Werewolves, Dragons, Witches, Angels, Demons, Fey, and More Page 75
