Alphas Unwrapped: 21 New Steamy Paranormal Tales of Shifters, Vampires, Werewolves, Dragons, Witches, Angels, Demons, Fey, and More

by Michele Bardsley

  Ten minutes later, all four Sentries of the Dragon Blade were standing on top of the mountain Keep. The helicopter tarmac was instantly cleared of snow by a long stream of Kress’s dragon fire. In single file, they climbed aboard.

  “When’s the last time this bird’s been serviced?” Lark asked, sitting down in one of the small leather seats.

  Connor shrugged and looked next to him at Kress, who shrugged back.

  War laughed over the sound of beating blades from the cockpit and said, “It’s a good thing we’re bringing our own set of wings.”

  Twenty minutes later, the Sentries were landing on a helipad, situated on the rooftop of Kris Kringle’s sprawling mansion.

  “Is that a sleigh and reindeer?” Lark asked, looking out of the tiny oval window.

  Connor followed her gaze and laughed.

  “It sure as hell is.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Silver-bell of the Ball

  ***

  Jericha materialized in a wide hallway, surrounded by walls filled with gold-framed paintings of reindeer in flight. Tall Nutcracker statues were lined along the walls on the marbled floors.

  Dizziness from the trip was overwhelming her, until out of the blue, a cool breeze washed across her face. Not worrying about where the cold blast had come from, she closed her eyes and savored it.

  Interrupting her calm, a fresh candy-sweet smell made Jericha crack her lids open.

  “Welcome to my home, daughter of Frost.”

  Before Jericha stood a tall man, dressed in a pristine tailored red suit, with white downy sleeves and collar. He had a broad chest, wide shoulders, and long arms. Her eyes dropped down to see a thick leather belt in black, with a shiny square silver buckle. A five o’clock shadow salt and peppered the bottom half of his face, bringing out his brilliant green eyes that twinkled with delight. His features were soft, as he smiled at her, but at the same time, his chin and jaw line was of a manly cut. He looked like a character from a holiday tale, but taller and more ruggedly handsome.

  The elves shuffled over to gather around him, their heads barely reaching his waist. The man smiled and reached down to ruffle Kole’s hair. He then placed a hand on Yule’s shoulder and gave it a pat.

  “You used your magic to bring her to me. Good job, little elf.”

  Yule’s smile beamed brighter than a Christmas bulb under the man’s praise.

  “Where are your rosy cheeks and chubby tummy?” Jericha blurted out. His peppered eyebrow rose, and she mentally kicked herself for being an idiot. She cleared her throat and said, “I’m sorry. Thank you. I… I….”

  She couldn’t think straight. Even though the man standing before her didn’t quite fit the stereotypical appearance, she had a sneaking hunch that she was in the presence of Santa Claus. It was a lot to take in.

  Just go with it.

  “I am very grateful to be here,” she continued, twirling around, until the skirt of her gown rose up in ripples. “And thank you for the gorgeous dress.”

  “Let’s get this party started!” Yule shouted, bouncing up and down, with eager anticipation.

  Kringle’s hand went to his mid-section, as he threw his head back and bellowed a jolly laugh.

  “Ho-ho-ho! Settle down, Yule Bright. The party is already in full swing!”

  Her belly fluttered. Did that just happen? Kringle locked gazes with Jericha. In that moment, something magical passed between them, an elemental connection of spirit. “I like you, Jericha. And I have a feeling you will make a wonderful Frost.”

  Sirius spoke up, “But what about her heart?”

  Reaching out, Kringle took Jericha’s hand and placed it to wrap around his muscular upper arm.

  In a confident tone, he said, “No need to dwell on the negative. Tonight, we dance, until our feet are miserable with blisters. The rest will handle itself.” He squeezed her hand. “Shall we?”

  She couldn’t believe that she was hooked arm-in-arm with him. It felt like a waking dream, a real life fairytale.

  “Yes, please.”

  ***

  The ballroom where the event was being held was in the back of the sweeping mansion. The space echoed with music and was alive with colorful holiday decorations and red cushioned benches, pushed up against the walls, where groups of opulently dressed men and women huddled in conversation or rested from dancing.

  Christmas trees towered in all four corners of the room. Sparkling bright lights were wrapped around each tree, with silver bells secured around the branches. A massive ice sculpture, which depicted snowmen frolicking in front of a winter chalet, sat on top of a long rectangular table. Champagne flowed from a few of the snowmen’s tipped hats, overflowing into an ice pond for the guests to dip their cups into.

  “This is where we part ways, beautiful Frost. Mingle, dance, and make some new friends. You’ll be seeing a lot of these people in the centuries to come.”

  When Jericha opened her mouth to say ‘goodbye’ and to again thank Mr. Kringle for the dress, she realized he’d vanished into thin air. She wasn’t surprised by his abrupt exit. It fell right in line with the magical ambiance of that night.

  She lifted her chin, pressed her hands down the side of her ball gown, and entered, with the bottom of her skirt swishing over the floor. With each step, a burst of frost branched from beneath her delicate sandals.

  She sighed between pale blue lips. In the last few hours, the change had been transforming her into the ice maiden she was meant to be. Her heart was slowing in its beats, the freeze constricting. She was in desperate need of a dragon, or all would be lost. The fire-born creature’s blood would be her only saving grace. Jericha absently rubbed at a spot on her chest, right over her heart.

  The alternative wasn’t acceptable.

  “Care to dance?”The question was spoken in a low sensual whisper.

  Glancing over, she met the gaze of an attractive dark-haired man. He had hard richly tanned features that reminded her of a rugged lumberjack, and he had enormous hands.

  “I would. Thank you, sir.”

  A primitive heat seared the back of her head, as if the devil himself was watching her with disapproval.

  If only Jericha knew how close to accurate her senses were.

  “Is this your first time at one of Kringle’s events?”

  Shuffling to keep pace with the beat of the music, as well as the gentleman’s expert moves, she lifted her gaze from her feet and nodded her answer.

  “Ah, I figured as much. Yours is a unique beauty, not easily forgotten.”

  What could she to say to that?

  She went with.

  “Umm… thanks?”

  Her eyes dropped back down to her toes.

  “In any case, I’m glad you’re here.” He said.

  With a whip that took her breath, Jericha was spun around. After a few dizzying moments, she was once again facing the strange man. He pulled her in so close that his breath warmed her ear. She shivered, and not in a good way.

  A man cleared his throat behind her, and asked, “May I cut in?”

  The stranger grabbed her closer.

  “I do not think she’d like that at all.”

  “I don’t give a shit what you think, werewolf.”

  The thick aroma of pheromones filled the air. It was dark and savage, deadly, like warm leather and cool steel combined on a raging war field. The new smells that assaulted her senses had taken some time getting used to… but she was a quick study. So she was well aware the two posturing beasts were about to have a party of their own.

  The werewolf snarled, nostrils twitching to scent the air.

  “Back off, dragon. I was here first.”

  An invisible net of raw magic enveloped all three of them. Jericha pushed out of the werewolf’s hold. She turned to study the man with eyes that gleamed sapphire blue. He had dark hair, masculine carved features, and a scowl that could melt paint off a barn. He was the conduit of building magic. It poured from him in furious
waves.

  Jericha swallowed a groan, as she recognized him instantly.

  “Connor.”

  “Hello, my heart,” he said in a deep husky growl. “I’ve missed you.”

  Feigning a confidence she was far from feeling, Jericha took a step to the side that moved her away from both werewolf and dragon. She planted her hands on her hips.

  “Are you following me?”

  The werewolf flinched, his eyes narrowing on Connor and Jericha.

  “Do you two know each other?”

  “Yes,” Connor said.

  “No,” Jericha said at the same time. “Well… kind of,” she finished.

  “This is too much drama for me,” the wolf said, throwing his hands up. His eyes darted toward a beautiful woman, as she passed by. She was wearing a sparkly dress that was tight in all the right places. He gave a wolfish grin that fit him. “I’m out of here.”

  Great.

  It was just the two of them… awkward.

  “I’m not following you,” Connor said, answering her question from earlier.

  She gave him a sideways look.

  It doesn’t seem that way to me, said a stubborn voice inside her head.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Fire & Ice

  ***

  Across the gleaming marble dance floor, Connor had spotted his fated mate in the arms of another. And as a result, his blood had boiled over. Although his heart threatened to crack in half, it also gently wept at how beautiful and alluring Jericha appeared, with her pale flesh all too tempting, beneath the silver ball gown she wore. In fact, Connor’s yearning for Jericha had grown so deep that he felt an ache in every muscle of his body.

  He’d watched with narrowed eyes, when the werewolf pulled her in close.

  The flow of his inner-dragon’s primal thoughts latched onto one subject only—Mine! Protect… Kill!

  So he hadn’t been able to contain the urge to make his presence known. But after chasing off the wolf, he had no clue what to say next. Unfortunately, his mate had no such quandary.

  “Get away from me,” Jericha hissed under her breath, so as to keep the conversation away from any passersby.

  “You can’t expect me to sit around and do nothing, when I see you with another,” he answered in a harsh whisper.

  She grabbed her hips and fought herself to keep from letting loose a stream of profanities.

  “That’s exactly what I expect you to do. You don’t own me, Connor. I am a grown single woman who can, and will, do as I damn well please… with whomever I want!”

  Fuck! He could feel the dragon rising.

  His instincts were to hoist her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and escape with her into the night. Connor snarled. He couldn’t think straight, with her saying things such as that. The bonding didn’t guarantee a match, especially if one of the two was reluctant. But there couldn’t be a magic tether, without a preordained attraction for one another. So he knew that in her core, she wanted him. All the necessary components for love were right there for the taking. He just couldn’t get his infuriating intended to take the leap.

  Connor shook his head to clear his thoughts. It was time for a different tactic.

  “Will you dance with me?”

  She raised a brow at that. “Did you hear what I just said?”

  “One dance. What could it hurt?”

  To her utter horror, Jericha flushed a little. She glanced down, so he wouldn’t see it.

  “Okay, one dance.”

  A flash of triumph curved Connor’s lips, as he swept forward. He placed a hand on Jericha’s lower back and held the other up for the taking.

  He cleared his throat, but his words still came out shaky. “Is this okay?”

  “Yes.”

  She took the offered hand and moved forward, stopping when the space between them was wafer thin.

  Damn!

  Being that close to him felt good to her—too good.

  Without knowing it, Connor had provided a taste of how it could be between them, with a single touch and proximity.

  With each step, twirl, and brush of their bodies, Jericha melted closer. Connor’s arm tightened around her waist, and the side of his face dropped into the silken nest of her hair. He had deliberately kept a safe distance between them, but she had taken the steps to bring them closer. Sweeping her deeper into the dance, his lips slid across the tip of her ear.

  Shuddering, Jericha gasped.

  “What are you doing to me?”

  “I’m living a thousand years within this single moment, ice maiden. Just in case this is all the time I’ll ever have with you.”

  Jericha didn’t know why, but that was exactly what she needed to hear.

  “Is there someplace we can go and talk? I’m not committing to an eternity or anything, but I wouldn’t mind if we discuss ways for us to take things slowly.”

  Connor closed his eyes in both relief and triumph. He dropped a quick kiss on her forehead, before spinning them away from the dance floor. He led them out of the ballroom and down the hall she’d arrived in.

  “I know the perfect place.”

  ***

  After walking down the hall with quick steps, they entered a room near the end. She gathered up her skirt and hurried over to the French doors that opened up to a view of the mansion’s backyard. The sprawling grounds were covered by at least two feet of fresh snow. It was an unspoiled blanket of white that rolled in waves for acres upon acres, between tall snowcapped trees.

  “Connor,” she whispered softly, “it’s beautiful.”

  Smiling, Connor appeared by her side and said, “Not nearly as breathtaking as you.”

  She tilted her head up and gave him a little grin.

  “You’re not so bad yourself, dragon.”

  Except for the nervous knot in her stomach, Jericha felt like she was doing the right thing by giving him a chance. Connor wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He’d proven that. And she wasn’t completely sold on the idea that she wanted him to. Though it was brief, they had a connection in her apartment and then another one, as they danced. If that wasn’t a sign for her to at least explore the feelings building between them further, she didn’t know what was.

  She spun away from the door and moved over to a settee, situated next to a bookshelf. Her eyes scanned a few of the spines for anything familiar.

  “Where do we go from here?” she asked, looking away from him, so he couldn’t see how nervous she was.

  Her eye caught a title on the shelf, A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.

  “We fall in love.”

  If she had anything in her mouth, she would have spit it out.

  “You think you’re in love with me? You don’t even know me.”

  Connor thought for a moment and then sat down next to Jericha.

  “What I’m trying to say is that we’re a perfect match and have a chance to build on that chemistry.” He leaned forward and took her hand in his.” If you’d think about it, you’d realize how lucky we are to already know who would fill our lives with insurmountable joy. There will be no looking in grocery stores or online in hopes of finding someone to forge a lasting connection with. We have all that and more in each other. All you need to do is give us a chance.”

  “I don’t know.” She smiled a little and answered in a whisper, “I know almost nothing about you, but still....”

  “What is it?”

  Jericha followed that pattern of thought and came up with… “I feel something. But whatever this is, it needs to happen on its own time. Like a normal relationship,” she said with more confidence.

  “I can handle that.”

  Jericha’s smile widened, as the tension in the room lessened.

  “And you’ll need to make me laugh. I like to laugh.”

  Connor looked down at Jericha and saw that her eyes were wide with trust.

  “Of course. I’d build you a circus full of clowns and monkeys if laughter is what pleases
you.”

  She feigned an air of horror and said, “Oh, no, never clowns. They scare me.”

  She laughed.

  In the next instant, his mouth came down upon hers.

  Jericha was surprised at how tender the kiss was. With her lips moving gently over his, they savored the moment, wanting to make it last, as their hands roamed and fingers twined in each other’s hair.

  “So soft,” he whispered.

  And then a deeper hunger made its presence known.

  With a wince, Jericha pulled away from the kiss. With frantic hands, she grabbed and tore at her chest. Connor stood and, in the same motion, went to his knees in front of her.

  “What is happening?” His head swung around the room, searching, his voice altering into a menacing growl. “Is someone attacking you? I will destroy them!”

  “It’s my… heart,” she managed to choke out.

  The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, as a power that matched her own filled the room.

  “Jericha.”

  Unable to move, her eyes slashed to the doorway.

  Connor surged to his feet.

  The man closed the door behind him and said, “She needs your blood, young man.”

  Connor felt the man’s words like a cold stroke across the back of his neck.

  “Who are you?”

  “I am Jack Frost, Jericha’s father.”

  She shook her head frantically, her voice coming out in a whisper, “I don’t have a father.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Thawed

  ***

  Connor was beyond confused and living in a moment of absolute horror. His mate was in jeopardy. And he raged to help her, but how?

  Pain ripped through his chest, as his dragon was trying to force the transformation, wanting to protect Jericha at all costs. His eyes flashed red, as tendrils of smoke began to barrel from his nostrils.

  “You need to leave… now,” he bellowed at Jack.

  Jericha toppled to her knees in agony.

  “Fuck!” His voice exploded into a deep rumble, tumbling books from off the shelves, to scatter across the room.

  He lowered to the floor, hunched over her.