It's only when I dare to mention Alaric, or if Alaric shows his face, that the mood abruptly changes for the worse.
I want to scream at Cael, really, for being such a mule-minded idiot. All of us crave affection at the end. It cuts us up when we don't get it.
I feel guilty sometimes when I go for long stretches of time without thinking about my family, so I keep notes beside my beds to help me reflect on the better memories – to remind myself that one day, I'll see them again.
Both mountain rulers seem to love me, or are at least fond of me, and I try my best to act charming and happy to be integrated as part of the clan – striving to get on their good side, for the eventual aim that I can exploit their trust to escape.
Except, part of me no longer wants to escape. My life doesn't have television and electronics, anymore. Though with enough trust, Alaric and Cael assure that they will let me bring some. By trust, I heavily suspect it's when I've become pregnant with their heirs.
Despite the lack of electronic distractions, I've found life in the mountains fulfilling. There's places to walk. I'm allowed to learn fishing and hunting and survival skills, go flying on the dragon's backs, and our way of entertainment is to hold long conversations with one another. The women are garrulous, and we enjoy swapping stories of our former lives.
Without all the clutter of material wealth (ironic, given that these dragons hoard treasure like crazy), only wearing clothes that help me to endure the elements, except for special occasions, I've found myself more relaxed than I've been in a long while. Tranquil, even.
At this moment in time, I'm at Cael's abode. I've decided to go out on a limb and cook him the fish I caught earlier. I'm still terrible at cooking, but roasting a whole fish isn't the hardest thing I've done. We sit opposite one another, carefully picking away at our mountain trout, and I'm debating how to bring up the ever risky subject of Alaric again. I have this notion digging into my brain that if I can get these two to fix their rift, relations between all of us will boost wonderfully. We're fine alone. It's when we're all together that the danger sparks fly.
“You're getting much better at this,” Cael compliments me, using his fingers to peel off the flesh. “The meat's coming off well. It's tender. We'll make a mountain princess of you yet.” He smiles fondly at me, which is rare for him, because he prefers more neutral sets to his face. I smile back, and my eyes widen slightly when he reaches over to clasp my hand with a slightly greasy palm. I try not to flinch, as I stare into his amber eyes, the soft, oval face with the black stubble and curly black hair. He's dreamy when he's not staring at us with eyes like black coals. But even then, there's a fierce beauty in him that I admire.
“I've not been kind or good to you for a princess,” he says, prompting me to stop eating and listen. I arrange my robes a little tighter to stop the chill breeze wafting in. “And by all rights, you should be running around and screaming. Instead, you're enduring this all with a saintly patience. My family loves you. I feel good walking with you by my side. I feel like I can love you. But...” He chews on his bottom lip, and I'm enraptured by the gesture. “but I'm not sure I will ever be able to love you enough.”
Hmm. He's honest, I'll give him that. I don't feel hurt or particularly surprised by his words, though I start gearing myself up to tackle the one huge thorn in his side that he usually rejects in fiery rage.
“Thank you. You can be a kind person when you want to be, so it makes life better than expected for someone sold off to a different culture.”
“Noted. We try to treat our women well, or, as well as we can, regarding the manner they arrive here.”
“Right.” I squeeze his hand, enjoying his light mood, annoyed that I'm likely about to bring it to an end. “I'm gonna go for the elephant in the room. Don't freak out. Don't threaten. This needs to be said. I'm gonna mention Alaric.”
Immediately, Cael's eyes contract from mild arousal to mild hatred. He hisses under his breath, but doesn't relinquish his hold on me.
“I have to do this,” I reiterate. “It's painfully obvious that none of us are going to get anywhere as long as you don't forgive him.”
Cael's jaw clenches, and he looks as if he wants to shriek something, but manages to swallow the impulse. “Go on,” he says.
I take it as an encouraging sign that he's reigning in his temper. “I know you still love him. And I know you hate it. And I know you feel bad doing what you do, because you know he'll do anything for you at this point. Even to get a sliver of affection.”
Cael is silent a moment, considering my words.
“I think you should open a dialogue with him. It might not turn out well, but you do need to find it in you to forgive him. What he did was wrong. He's trying to make up for it. Don't throw away your chance for love under this. It will break you both.”
I breathe heavily as the last of the words tumble out my mouth, and Cael says nothing, and makes no attempts to stop me like he's done before.
The silence stretches longer. He's warring in his mind, I can see it. The cogs in his brain are ticking, and something is pulsing in his jaw. Hate and love are forming a circle there, eating one another's tails.
It takes him a while longer, before he whispers. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
He closes his eyes, before staring into mine, stirring my heartstrings. “You may be right. This has gone on for long enough. I need to...” He pauses, sighs, “things need to change.”
“That they do,” I agree, silently elated, resisting the urge to get up and start crowing in triumph.
I arrange with him that I'll ask Alaric to come around, that he requested it, and we seal it with a greasy handshake. When we share a bed together, I feel his heart pounding hard against mine, likely because he's thinking about the confrontation that pans ahead. I help relax and soothe him, until he falls asleep.
Back at Alaric's well furnished place, I drop the bomb on him a day in.
Hopelessly enamored and lovesick to Cael, Alaric agrees, and I ride on his back to the Spike clan, ready to meet up together, to see if once again we'll dissolve into a session of pleasure, pain and loathing, or if things can be fixed.
Cael certainly expressed that yearning to make things right. But his pride might make him fall, so I watch him apprehensively as Alaric falls silent, waiting for the familiar orders to begin.
The crazy things people do for love.
I see the conflict instantly rage in Cael's eyes, and he looks at me several times before he says, “We should talk.”
Alaric narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Bronnen put you up to this? I thought she was rather persistent in – ” I slap Alaric upside the head. He says ow and rubs his skull, mussing up his blonde hair.
“No. He's trying. You don't aggravate him.” My reprimand makes Alaric sigh.
Cael laughs at this. “She did. But it's been on my mind for a while. I usually just dismissed her or told her to shut up, but this time... I listened.” He steps a little closer, and Alaric holds his breath.
“I want to forgive you, Alaric. Each time you come here and I do all these things to you and you take it, it makes me feel awful and furious at the same time. Awful, because I don't like watching you suffer, yet at the same time, I want you to. Furious, because you keep coming back, you keep trying to worm your way back into my heart.”
The blonde haired prince folds his arms, a pinch of agony in his face. “I'm really sorry. I didn't want to hurt you. I just... I was too weak to stand up to my father.”
Cael makes one step closer, so they're within arm's length of each other. His amber eyes are soft, rather than harsh. There's a bone deep weariness there, too.
“I'm tired,” Cael says. “Tired of trying to hate you.”
“Then don't,” Alaric responds. “Don't.” They close the distance, and wrap themselves in a tentative hug. My hands are over my mouth in a bid to suppress my excitement and frantic need to fangirl over them.
I'm obviously failing
horribly, because Cael glances over to me. “It occurs to me that we have you to blame for this.”
Alaric turns to face me as well, still hugging Cael. “Yeah. You're right. It's all her fault.”
“We should punish her,” Cael murmurs, and a thrill of evil delight tingles my bloodsteam.
There's no punishment in their eyes when they approach me, though.
Now, when we come together, taking off one another's clothes, it's a whole different kind of act than before. Gone is the former brutality, though I hope we haven't given that up completely. In place of it is something gentle, more in the way of worship when it comes to one another's bodies. I at first sit between them as they lie down, and stroke them until they become fully erect. Then, I take it in turns to kiss them, before they kiss one another, and I see the passion ignite in their eyes. I don't feel jealous, though. I feel happy, relieved to see it. I know this is how things are meant to go.
They embrace stronger, before diverting their attention to me, the one who brought them together. Gratefulness and love shines in their eyes, and I feel the warmth emanating from their bodies, making me content.
Both of them decide to distribute pleasure onto me. Cael focuses on caressing my breasts, kissing my neck and ears and stirring all the erogenous areas here into a crescendo. Alaric focuses on my legs and then my core and bundle of nerves, his green eyes glowing and blissful as he licks me, taking my mind and elevating it to distant heights. I writhe, groan and sigh in pleasure as they work on me, and Alaric laps away at me until I come with a shudder. Alaric then enters me with his erection, and I take Cael in my mouth, focusing on bringing them both to climax as well. I contract my inner muscles around Alaric's length, making him gasp, and I swirl my tongue around Cael's length, careful with my motion. Cael comes first, and Alaric follows a moment later.
All of us lie there, panting. I'm happy. They're deliriously happy. In Cael's bed, I'm sandwiched between them as they both drape themselves over me.
I begin to fall asleep, utterly content, bathing in their renewed love and warmth.
“Thank you, Bronnen,” Alaric whispers into my ear. “I'm glad we bought you.”
I chuckle at this. “I'm not glad how I arrived here, but I am glad to be getting on so famously with you two. And the whole pampering thing.”
Cael nuzzles into my neck. “None of this would have happened without you. You're a blessing in disguise.”
I'm flattered, and smile sleepily, before yawning and stretching. “I try my best.”
“I hope you won't want to leave us,” Alaric says then. “I hope you'll stay with us.”
“We can't keep her from her family forever,” Cael says. “Can we, Bronnen?”
“No,” I agree. “I miss them.”
I do. A little sadness tinges with my satisfaction.
“We'll arrange things to let you contact them soon, if you want. We'll decide how to do it later. For now, I just want to enjoy this.”
“Mm...” I settle better into the covers.
My thoughts are errant, but they do keep returning to the same things. How lucky I am to become a princess. Even if it's a dragon's princess of a small shifter tribe high up in the mountains of who knows where. I have two princes who seem to really, really like me. Dare I say, love?
If not complete love, I'm pretty certain we'll be there in a couple of months. We've just passed the next big stage in this relationship, after all. One that needed fixing.
I'm happy to keep fixing it further, too, and to seriously consider staying in this world. I like Alaric and Cael. I really do.
A part of me thinks that they're the things I've been missing from my life all along.
That together, we form a complete, perfect set.
I fall asleep with a smile stamped upon my lips, positive for what the future will bring.
Gifted To The Beast
~ Bonus Story ~
A Steamy Werewolf Shifter Paranormal Romance
When Genetic Zoologist Maria Garcia is invited to a swanky party in Manhattan by billionaire playboy Mark MacTire, she believes his interest is in her research into wolves. She doesn’t realize that what Mark wants is a lot more than her research. And what Mark wants, Mark gets. His mother sees to that.
His mother, Sylvia, has decided to buy Mark a very special birthday present, his very own, sexy, petit college professor. But there is somebody who is sick of seeing Mark get everything he wants, his brother Cún thinks it’s time Mark proved himself worthy of all his privileges. Mark’s mother agrees. It is time that Mark made a kill. And they want that kill to be Maria…
As Maria battles for survival she thinks her life has turned into a crazy nightmare. What she doesn’t realize is that the nightmare hasn’t even begun. The nightmare starts with the howling…
* * *
One
“Why me?”
“He’s read your research and he was impressed with it, Maria. You should be flattered.” Bob, the administrator of the Zoology and Genetics Department of the New York Cornwell University, smiled and flicked his eyes over Maria’s petit but very shapely form. “He’s probably seen your photo too.”
Maria raised an eyebrow at him. Her eyes were huge, and dark mahogany in color. They were beautiful but not inviting.
“I neither want nor appreciate flattery, Bob.”
“OK, but the department appreciates, wants and needs the investment. So do us all a favor and go. Besides, you might find him interesting.”
Her tone was ironic. “Why, because he’s a billionaire playboy? That isn’t interesting. It’s boring.”
“Come on, Maria, give me a break!” He settled himself in her chair in front of her computer and she rested her ass against a work bench. He went on. “OK, he’s an amateur, but as amateurs go he’s an interesting guy. He spent a year living in Alaska, studying the wolves there. He did some good research and published it in Nature…”
“I read it. If one of my students had written it I would have given them a B. This guy has ego, charisma and brain in that order. I don’t like him, and there is something else…”
Bob sounded depressed, “What?”
“If he is investing in this department I do not want him interfering in my research. If he does, I will personally tell him to but out and I will expect your support.”
“If I promise, will you go?”
She sighed, “OK, I’ll go.”
The party was a small affair. There were only about two hundred guests and they seemed to come from every walk and corner of New York’s high society. Maria spotted several actors, a novelist, a couple of astrophysicists, a senator and an ex-president. Bob, as the senior member of their department, had accompanied her, but having found her a glass of champagne he bent close to her ear and whispered, “I am going funding hunting. You track and seize your prey.”
She gave him a look that would have soured fresh cream and he left, waving at people as he went.
“He is following his instinct. It’s what we all do.”
The voice was deep and rich, but there was a gravely note to it that made it sound like a growl. She turned.
“Mr MacTire, how do you do?”
“If you call me Mr MacTire, I won’t be able to call you Maria. And I really want to call you Maria. Will you be kind and call me Mark?”
He was exactly as arrogant, narcissistic and pushy as she had expected him to be, but he was also charismatic and very attractive. She smiled even though she didn’t want to.
“Mac Tíre is Irish, it means wolf. Did you change your name on purpose, from Perkins or Green?”
He tilted his head on one side. “You don’t like me. It’s OK. I get that a lot. You think I am a narcissistic playboy who uses the world as his playground, takes nothing seriously and tramples over other people to get what he wants, without ever having to try, or commit himself or make a sacrifice.”
She smiled. “You got all that from my question?”
“I have an instin
ct. You see,” he grinned. “Your perception of me is based on a certain number of preconceptions about people and how they behave in society. I don’t waste my time on that kind of stuff. My perception of people is based on…” he raised an eyebrow and made an eloquent gesture with his hand. “Smell.”
She laughed in spite of herself. “Smell?”
“Yes. Have you ever seen two wolves when they meet?”
“What do you think? You know my whole life has been devoted to the study of wolves.”
“It is one of the many things we have in common. So you know that the first thing they do is smell each other.”
“Probably not a great idea in the middle of a cocktail party with two hundred guests.”
He shrugged and grinned. “Who gives a fuck?”
She was taken aback and for a second didn’t know what to say. Finally she half stammered, “Well, perhaps being a billionaire gives you that kind of freedom.”
He shook his head. “That has nothing to do with it.” He bent down and placed his nose by her ear, almost touching her neck, and inhaled deeply. A tremor of intense pleasure made her shudder. He let out a sigh that hovered somewhere between a groan and a growl.
Bad, Very Bad Shifters- The Complete Mega Bundle Page 35
