Romancing the Paranormal

by Stephanie Rowe

  I laugh as we take off running. Our paws eat up the ground. Within thirty minutes, I’m sure I know where he’s leading me. My heart is heavy. I do not want to see the burned remnants of my cabin.

  We finally come out of the woods at the clearing where my cabin once stood. A new, freshly built cabin stands in its place. I shift to human and stare in bewilderment. Tyboll takes my hand as I turn to him. “What is this?”

  “Our home. The clan built it for us. It’s larger than your other cabin, so there is room for Patreous and visitors who wish to stay overnight.”

  “But I don’t understand.” This makes absolutely no sense.

  “I told Dmitri two weeks ago that I would not share our secrets. He trusts me to protect the clan and I also gave my word that I would always do so.” He spreads his arms out. “This is where we belong. We are not only bear, we are witch, and we need a place to grow hair and all the other things you haven’t shown me without the eyes of the clan surrounding us. When our son spends time with Mandy and Honey, we will have the cabin to ourselves.”

  The pressure behind my eyes is too much. “I love you, Tyboll,” I say through tears. I cover my face with my hands.

  He pulls my hands away and holds them within his. “I’m glad to hear that, mate, because I love you. For some reason, the Goddess has placed a great weight on your shoulders and now mine. She has also given us each other. It is time to start our future.” He kisses my fingers tenderly. “I am a gruff man and an impatient bear. With your guidance, I plan to be a good witch and maybe it will push aside some of the tendencies that force you to run from me.” He draws me closer until our lips almost touch. “Know this. I will always come for you no matter how far you run. You are mine and I am yours.” He kisses the salt of my tears from my lips. Unfortunately, he pulls away before the kiss deepens. “I want to show you our home. I’ve been a slave driver to have it finished by tonight.”

  He leads me through the door and I can’t help my gasp of surprise. Beautiful pots of herbs rest on every surface. My former cabin was one large room. Now, there is a loft and doors leading to other rooms. Only a clan of shifters could accomplish something like this so quickly. Tyboll grasps my hand and pulls me to the farthest door.

  “That’s a bathroom,” he says as he points to a door we pass. “There is another in here so I have privacy after you poison me with mushrooms.”

  A large bed takes up most of the room. It’s larger than the one at his other cabin.

  “This bathroom is not finished because I had to special order the bathtub. It will be here next week and someone in the clan will deliver it.”

  From the size of the empty space and height of the plumbing it will also rival the size of the one at his cabin. Previously, I noticed Tyboll’s continued use of the word “mine” when we were at his cabin. Now he used “ours.” Our son. Our home. Our future.

  I say a silent prayer, “Thank you Goddess for the greatest gift of all. My mate. The man I love.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Tyboll

  I storm through the woods kicking branches as I go. Damn witch. Will I ever know the truth of everything?

  I am bear. Just bear!

  The limb I kick this time hurts my bare foot and I growl even louder. Bears are far superior. Why would I ever choose another beast form? The clan will laugh their asses off if they ever find out. It doesn’t matter that we now have cats and wolves in the mix. We are bear.

  I didn’t believe her and made her show me. She actually purred when in cat form. It was not sexy because… I do not like sex.

  “Your lunch is ready, so stop sulking and come home to eat,” she calls into my mind.

  I want meat, too. My stomach flip-flops at the thought and I know it’s as big of a lie as not liking sex. I love sex. I love my mate. Hell, I even love being a witch, though I refuse to admit it. If she would just stop turning my world upside down. She’s taught me to use the great texts. They confound me. I keep my nose to the books because it makes her happy. When she’s happy, I like sex even more.

  I storm into the cabin and the delicious aroma of my new favorite meal makes me stop to inhale deeply. Veda holds up a spoon dripping the best spaghetti sauce in the world—made from tomatoes I created.

  The woman can cook. “Have a seat and I’ll bring your plate over. I prepared the bread you like, too.”

  She’s doing it again—deflating my anger. I can’t stay mad at her because she makes my life so wonderful. She’s incredible with Patreous. She spends hours with Mandy’s new babies and is the only person who has any control over Demetria at all. The devil child is enthralled with my mate. There is a steady stream of she-bears coming to our cabin asking her for help. They bring the young ones with them now. They pay attention to what we need and make sure Veda feels like clan. The male bears haven’t asked me to share my new talents, but they have no problem pushing my buttons. Life is great.

  And I now have the ability to shift to different beastkind species. I won’t do it!

  “Doesn’t matter, you can. You had to know.” Her annoyance drips from the words.

  I stand up and walk over before she can bring my plate. My hands go to her skirt-clad legs and I push the material up as my lips trail over her neck. I’m finally able to feel her skin and the electrical charge travels from her flesh to mine and back. I turn, slip one hand around her waist, and turn off the burners.

  I need to heat up my mate and maybe, just maybe, she will purr for me again.

  The beginning…

  Special thanks…

  To Dinah deSouzaGuedes VanHoose for naming Veda. The name belonged to Dinah’s late mother. Both of these women, fictional and real, have feisty in common. I was honored to give Veda such an awesome name.

  To the team of remarkable ladies who touch up my stories and make them shine…

  Michelle, Pat, Elaine, Hannah, and Kathie thank you so very much!

  Author Bio:

  D’Elen McClain is the best-selling author of the Fang Chronicles and Fire Chronicles. She also writes as Suzie Ivy, her police side, and her spice side as Holly S. Roberts, the USA Today Best-Selling Author of the Completion Series and Club El Diablo Series.

  Connect with D’Elen at:

  http://wickedstorytelling.com

  http://twitter.com/mywickedstories

  http://facebook.com/delenmcclain

  wickedstorytelling@gmail.com

  Return to Synopses

  Her Dragon’s Heart

  Dragon Guard Series #8

  By

  Julia Mills

  There Are No Coincidences.

  The Universe Does Not Make Mistakes.

  Fate Will Not Be Denied.

  Her Dragon’s Heart

  Copyright © 2015 Julia Mills

  All Rights Reserved.

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

  DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictional manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  NOTICE: This is an adult erotic paranormal romance with love scenes and mature situations. It is only intended for adult readers over the age of 18.

  Edited and Proofread by Alicia Carmical with AVC Proofreading

  Edited by Lisa Miller, Angel Editing Services

  Cover Designed by Linda Boulanger with Tell Tale Book Covers

  DEDICATION

  Dare to Dream! Find the Strength to Act! Never Look Back!

  Thank you, God.

  To my girls, Liz and Em, I Love You. Every day, every way, always.

  HER DRAGON’S HEART

  CHAPTER ONE

  “I’m sure you’ve got a damn good reason for dragging me halfway around the world and then marc
hing me through a swamp in the pouring rain…”

  Liam paused and Jace braced for what was to come. He knew there was no way his best friend was done with his verbal ass-kicking. Liam was the Grande Poobah of bitching. He hadn’t even reached the path to the pinnacle of his capabilities yet.

  “So out with it, asshole, before I call my dragon and head back home.”

  Jace sighed a heavy sigh. He knew Liam was right. Almost forty-eight hours ago he’d awoken the other Guardsman from a sound sleep, thrown a packed duffle at his chest, and told him to ‘dragon up’. True to form, Liam had done so without question, a testament to the strength of their friendship. A bond Jace could tell was wearing terribly thin. The problem was he had no idea how to explain why they were doing what they were doing without giving away his secret…something he’d been hiding since his first trip to the hospital almost four months ago.

  One look into her haunting hazel eyes. A mere whiff of the spicy scent of flowering dianthus. Just one moment in her presence and he’d known. Could feel it with every fiber of his being. Had confirmation from the beast within… Melanie Whelan was his. The one woman in all the world created to complete him and his dragon in every way. Jace had found his mate.

  He’d spent the rest of the day in a fog. Not sure what to do or say. His beast had begged for him to throw the beautiful nurse over his shoulder, carry her far from civilization and make her theirs forever. More than a few minutes were spent in debate with his dragon and in all honesty…the big guy had almost won. After a long walk around the hospital grounds, Jace returned to his post and spent the next few hours mooning over his newfound treasure like a schoolboy with a crush.

  After a few sleepless nights, Jace had contemplated talking to Royce, the oldest Guardsman of their Force and his mentor, but as Fate would have it, things had gotten complicated. They had gotten a lead on the traitor, blown up a mansion, then lost the traitor. They also had a mating ceremony and welcomed the first female dragon in hundreds of years into the clan…pretty much same shit different day for his people. At least nothing was ever boring. It had, however, kept him from doing little more than smiling at his beautiful mate.

  Rayne, the Commander of their Force, had tried to remove him from the detail responsible for watching Lance’s mate, Dr. Sam Malone, and Jace had come close to losing his cool. His guard detail was the only time he was sure to see Melanie. There was no way he was giving it up without a fight. It took some fancy finagling, but he’d been able to stay on the team and see his mate almost every day.

  It had taken almost a week, but Jace finally worked up the nerve to have more than a three word exchange with Melanie. The more they talked, the more he realized how perfect she was. Her quick wit and wicked sense of humor were just a few of the things he would never get tired of. He’d always been told the Universe did not make mistakes, but it was still the most amazing thing he’d experienced in all his fifty-four years.

  The cute way her nose wrinkled when she giggled with the children on the Pediatrics floor or the way her eyes shone when she helped her geriatric patients filled his heart with tenderness. Keeping himself from kissing her silly every time they were together had become a constant battle. Thoughts of claiming her as his own had become an obsession.

  The more time he spent with her, the stronger their bond became. He had begun to feel her emotions, even caught glimpses of her thoughts. The intimacy of sharing her feelings was miraculous, something he looked forward to as much as his next breath. So when those feelings just stopped, like someone flipped a switch, Jace MacQuaid flipped his lid.

  In an instant, he was out of bed, dressed, and flying down the road on his Harley, constantly reaching through their mating link, praying to the Heavens he could catch even the slightest sense that Melanie was okay. The longer her ‘radio silence continued, the more his panic grew. It was a new experience for the young Guardsman and one he hoped never to repeat.

  Trying to calm both himself and his dragon, he thought back to the last time he’d seen her. She’d been quiet, distracted…almost pensive. Her emotions had become erratic after Kyra announced she had a lead on Calysta involving some whacked out coven of black witches/wizards known as the Dorcha, descendants of the Firbolgs – the dark aborigines from the 13th century.

  Anxiety flooded their mating bond. Jace probed, looking for the cause of her fear, but Melanie’s thoughts were locked up tighter than Fort Knox. Her features so well-schooled that only someone who’d studied her as much as Jace would notice the rigid set of her shoulders and the way she continually glanced to the side.

  He’d asked what was wrong and she’d made an excuse about being tired then walked away without looking up. Never one to relent, Jace followed, hoping for answers. Instead, Melanie ducked out of the room, returning several minutes later with her backpack and coat. She made an excuse about an early shift, which didn’t fit her schedule and raised more red flags, but the kicker was when she left without letting him walk her out.

  Jace paced Royce’s front porch until he’d worn a path, then made three laps around the yard before calming enough to go back inside, cursing himself for not making her tell him what was wrong. The notion of making Melanie Whelan do anything was laughable and made him smile.

  I should’ve told her she was my mate. That we’re meant to be together forever. That I’ll be there for her no matter what.

  Over the next few days there had been countless times he’d on his way to see her, only to have her look up, fake a smile, then head the opposite direction. He knew she was avoiding him but had no idea why. Using every one of his enhanced abilities, he watched from the shadows, undetected but still close enough to protect her.

  On the evening of the second night, he’d had enough. He knew their attraction was mutual. He’d scented her arousal when they touched, seen her pupils dilate, felt her breath quicken, and felt their connection the few times he’d lowered his lips to hers. Melanie Whelan was his, dammit, and he would protect her to his dying breath, whether she liked it or not.

  Waiting in the hospital parking lot, determined to get some answers, Jace propped himself against his motorcycle and waited. Her scent filled the air seconds before she exited the large sliding glass doors. He made a beeline to intercept his stubborn mate, reminding both himself and his dragon they were there to get answers, not to be distracted by her sparkling eyes and kissable lips.

  Unfortunately, two strides into his trek, the cellphone in the pocket of her scrubs rang. Her steps slowed as she pulled it from her pocket, then stopped completely as she scowled at the display. Biting her bottom lip and staring at the phone like it might bite her, Melanie finally answered with a growled, “I told you never to contact me.”

  The hair on the back of his neck stood up. His dragon snarled. Jace used his enhanced hearing to listen as the raspy voice of a much older man responded. “But Meli Rose, we are family. I just…”

  “You just want to screw up my life…again. Well, not this time seanathair.” The venom of her tone had Jace and his beast preparing for battle. The use of the old dragon language and a blasphemous term like seanathair had him scratching his head. Only those well versed in dragon dialect would know what an insult the use of ‘old father’ would be to their grandfather. He made a note to find out how in the hell she was so well-versed in their language.

  The sing-song tone laced with malevolent force that replied to her made him want to punch something. “Now, Meli, you know you belong with your teaghlaigh. We know what is best for you.”

  Melanie transformed before his eyes. Her back went ramrod straight, her shoulders pulled back, and her feet spread to shoulder width apart. A warrior was born and she was preparing for battle. The tension in her jaw worried Jace that she might break a tooth. She growled her response.

  “You know what is best for me? You? You, Grand Draoi, presume to know what is best for me?” She paused, her hate and anger a living being.

  Although Melanie was truly pissed, Jac
e felt what it cost her to stand her ground. The internal battle to fight for what was right against a blood relative was one that never came easily for anyone. He fought the urge to go to her. His hands flexed with the need to grab the phone from her hands and verbally assault the man that dared to upset his mate. More than anything, he wanted to spare her the obvious torture the mere sound of the man’s voice caused.

  His beast within wholeheartedly agreed, chuffing and growling until the young Guardsman had a hard time maintaining his focus. Of their own volition, his feet moved forward. Jace ground the heels of his boots into the asphalt, willing himself to stay put. He knew Melanie would not welcome his intrusion, no matter how good his intentions. There was history to her torment, something he could tell she’d spent years learning to keep hidden. One of the many things he admired about his mate was her strength and knew from their many conversations that she valued her independence. Watching her, he could see how hard she’d fought to attain that independence and would do whatever he could to help her maintain it. He took several deep breaths, assuring both himself and his dragon he was doing the right thing.

  Seconds ticked by as he waited. Melanie stood as still as a statue, her ragged breathing the only signs she was alive. Just when Jace was sure she would hang up without another word, she spoke. The sound so low and ominous, he’d have never believed it was her had he not seen it with his own eyes. His blood ran cold at her words. “Let me guess, fuil mo chuid fola. I’m to follow in my mother’s footsteps? To carry on the family tradition and die at the end of your sword. Chained to a stone altar, pleading for you to spare my life, only to have you smile and tell me it is for the good of mo dhaoine.”