Hecate's Own: Heart's Desire, Book 2 (21 page)

Robin had sent them a lovely mating gift.

Robin bowed, graceful yet mocking, and saw his bow returned,
mimicked nearly perfectly.

“Lord Robin.” The pooka’s tenor voice was soft and filled
with amusement. He met Robin’s gaze dead on, with only a slight twinge of fear,
quickly masked.

Robin grinned, intrigued.
Maybe the boy has potential
after all.
Robin was always on the lookout for potential Blades, men and
women of integrity who guarded Oberon and did his will. This one could be a
recruit, if he proved himself capable.

He turned his attention back to Oberon, one eyebrow cocked,
the grin still lingering on his face.

Oberon merely shook his head. They knew each other well.
Oberon would know how Robin would react to Kael. “If the prince is no longer
with us, I expect you to dispense justice.”

The green glow in Robin’s eyes was swiftly hidden by his
long lashes as he bowed to his king and friend. “Yes, my liege.” He ignored
Lord Kael’s swiftly hidden shiver of unease.

This had the potential to be
fun
.

The only way to save her is to bind their souls as one.

 

A Feast of Souls

© 2012 Hailey Edwards

 

Araneae Nation, Book 2

Born with the ability to communicate with the dead, few
things take Mana by surprise. But when a canis lopes into her life, announcing
himself as the long-dead father of a childhood friend, she’s shocked. To make
matters worse, he has a dire message that she alone can deliver.

Now Mana must face Vaughn, the male who inspired one too
many girlish fantasies, and impart the spirit’s message—without acknowledging
her source—so the soul can be laid to rest.

With rumors of a burgeoning clan war setting his nerves on
edge, the last thing Vaughn needs is for an innocent to get caught in the
crosshairs. But the woman he remembers as an awkward girl refuses to leave his
side until he’s heard her out. That’s not the only change in her that calls to
him. Her kindness soothes his battle-scarred soul—and he craves her in ways a
warrior shouldn’t.

When they are both captured, they learn of an even greater
threat. The plague devastating the southlands has come to his clan home. And
his best—and only—chance to keep his people alive is the female who walks among
the dead.

Warning:
This book contains one fierce hero with a
nose for danger, one stubborn heroine who smells like trouble, and one wolfish
spirit who makes most relationships with the in-laws seem downright tame. Fur,
fangs and some biting should be expected. But never fear, the hero has a sword,
and he knows how to use it.

 

Enjoy the following excerpt for
A Feast of Souls:

“Are you ready?” Vaughn walked so close, heat from his body
sizzled against my skin.

Static crackled across my arms and raised hairs all over my
body. The veil. We had arrived. I was so grateful for a respite I hadn’t
checked the reason why our procession had come to an end.

Shadows darkened Vaughn’s eyes. I imagined the wheel of his
mind spinning. “Are you?”

His exhale sounded strained. “I am.” He cast me a
calculating glance. “Kiss me for luck?”

I almost swallowed my tongue. “What?” My mind had wandered
but not so far from its path.

“Kiss me.” His eyes gleamed brighter than they had since our
ordeal began. “It’s tradition for a male to seek a female’s kiss before
crossing the veil. Gives him a reason to fight its energy.”

“Really?” I made my voice sound thoughtful. “All these years
I’ve broken tradition without realizing. Old Father never mentioned such a
noble cause, nor did my other travel companions.”

His nod was somber. “Wait—what do you mean other travel
companions?”

“Old Father rarely leaves Beltania these days, even for clan
business. When I leave the city, my aunt assigns one of her husband’s clansmen
to act as my guard. Deinopidae males are rather physical males. You’d think I’d
have tempted one…” I sighed. “Consider the kisses I’ve missed.”

I have gone mad. The strain of capture has taken its toll.
Think of who I’m tempting. Think of whose attentions I’m inviting. Think of
those soft lips of his. One last chance to taste them…

Tonight we fought for our freedom. If we lost…I wanted to
know this male’s kiss.

Vaughn cleared his throat. “We could make up for lost time.”

“You’d do that, for me?” My smile was impossible to stop. I
should be afraid—of him, of this night, of the outcome of two bound prisoners
against a score of Theridiidae. “How kind you are.”

But I wasn’t afraid. Vaughn’s presence enveloped me, kept me
safe against all odds. My skin tightened and my head ached as I was forced to
consider perhaps it had never been him I feared, but his effect on me.
Tradition demanded I save myself for my soul mate. My heart, well, it was less
inclined to wait. With no visible aura and no possible future, I gave myself to
this moment.

Vaughn closed the distance between us. “This is not the
first kiss you deserve.”

“Who said this was my first?” I was a warm-blooded female
and males had interested me.

His brow furrowed. “You’re Salticidae.”

“I am.” I wished my hands were free to shape his broad
shoulders. “I’m also waiting.”

“Then we’re even.” His head lowered. Our breaths mingled.
“I’ve waited for this.”

Surprise parted my lips, and he claimed my mouth with hunger
that sank into my bones. One brush of his lips and I was lost. His tongue
traced the entrance to my mouth, seeking permission I granted by inclining my
head. Desire fogged my mind, the low rumble in the back of his throat making
tension coil low in my stomach. Our bodies pressed so close, I realized how
well we fit.

The thrust and glide of Vaughn’s tongue mirrored the erotic
turn of my thoughts. No. I could not indulge in this male when I had one of my
own somewhere. When the gods brought my soul mate to me, I would not go to him
sullied or disgraced for being so weak I gave away my virtue.

Suddenly the bite of rope on my wrists was a welcome
reminder of our circumstances. Over the pounding of my heart, I heard his raw breaths
and saw wildness glint in his eyes. I withdrew.

If our display hadn’t earned us the full attention of our
guards, I might have considered a roll in the snow to cool the heat making it
hard for me to breathe. Gods’ web he had my mind dazed.

“Don’t stop on our account.” Urien winked in a too-familiar
way. “Pretend we aren’t here.”

“How can she?” Teilo snorted. “You’re staring a hole through
her blouse.”

Urien’s brows slanted. “It’s not my fault if she likes males
to watch—”

A lone howl rose over the noises of our procession. The
mournful song was lifted higher by another voice and then another until a
chorus of melancholy descended around us. From the edge of the woods, a black
wolf sauntered. Behind him, a dozen more eyes gleamed gold and furious.

Several Theridiidae males huddled around our group for a
better look at the canis.

“You there, Walker, come here.” Torrance waved me closer.
“Is this some trick of yours?”

“Despite rumors to the contrary,” I assured him, “I know no
tricks.”

“Leave her be.” Vaughn stared at the alpha. “I doubt they
cross the veil. Animals avoid it the same as we do. Their presence is a good
omen. Consider their song a parting gift from the pack.”

“I’ll consider it what I like.” Torrance glared at Mana. “If
I find out this was your doing…”

“Believe what you want.” I gritted my teeth. “Small minds
can’t be changed.”

Torrance slapped me across the face before I could react,
and my lip burst.

“You struck her.” Vaughn took a slow step toward Torrance.
“I will kill you for that.”

“Back off now or I’ll lop off that ring finger of yours,
send it and your signet to your mother. Bet Isolde would love that.” Torrance
smirked. “I know my maven would.”

Muscle worked in Vaughn’s jaw. “Take it. I have nine more
where it came from.” He swept his leg out, knocking Torrance’s legs from under
him. The male hit the ground with a groan, and Vaughn knelt on his windpipe.
Even with his hands cinched behind his back, Vaughn was lethal.

“You drew first blood,” Vaughn snarled in his face.
“Remember that.”

“Get off.” Urien cuffed Vaughn upside the head and sent him
sprawling onto his back.

Wheezing, Torrance turned onto his side, shoving up onto his
hands and knees. “Kill him.”

The guards exchanged a look as my heart lurched.

“Are you so eager to go to war with the Mimetidae?” I asked
him. “Your maven has begun a battle she can’t hope to win with the Araneidae.
After this, the kidnapping of Lourdes’s beloved sister a second time by your
clan, she will call in all favors and enlist all her allies to destroy you.”

A moment passed. Torrance swung his head toward me.

“You know I’m right.” This time his clan had gone too far.
“While the Mimetidae must fight for the Araneidae, those are the terms of their
alliance, think how much hotter their tempers will flare after learning you not
only kidnapped their ally’s second heir, but murdered their heir too?”

“She, ah, has a point there.” Urien scratched the stubble on
his cheeks.

“Leave the decision to our maven,” Teilo chimed in. “After
the grief these two have caused, I doubt Colleen would deny you the right to
carve justice for your wife’s cousin from his flesh.”

“Heed the counsel of your peers,” I said. “Your maven won’t
thank you for making her an enemy in Isolde. Few are more ruthless than the
Mimetidae maven, and none are bloodthirstier.”

“Fine.” Torrance pushed to his feet and glared at Vaughn.
“Pray your mother comes quickly for you. If she is a day late or one gold coin
short, I will have your head for what you did today.”

“I see no reason for us to hide behind our mavens. If you
have a score to settle with me, free my hands.” Eagerness made Vaughn’s dark
eyes glitter. “Let us settle our grievances here, now.”

Blood draining from his face, Torrance said, “No. The female
is right. You’re worth more to my maven alive.” He cleared his throat. “For the
time being, your neck is safe. Don’t tempt fate.”

Once Torrance had gone, and Teilo with him, I could breathe
again.

“You kept my head and neck attached for another day.” Vaughn
eyed the veil. “Thank you.”

“Repay me by not provoking Torrance again.” My nerves were
already frayed as it was.

“I will keep you safe.” Danger sharpened his voice. “No
matter the price.”

I shut my eyes, fearful of what surviving might cost us all.

Sometimes a secret goes to the grave. Sometimes Secret
puts you there.

 

Grave Secret

© 2013 Sierra Dean

 

Secret McQueen, Book 5

It’s been a hell of a year for Secret McQueen, and the last
thing in the world she wants is to get caught up in werewolf drama. But when
her former fiancé Lucas Rain shows up asking for her help, she knows there’s no
easy way out.

After making it known she wants nothing to do with him,
Secret agrees to help find Lucas’s wayward sister Kellen. After all, how much
trouble could one socialite get into in the city that never sleeps?

Unless that socialite has been spirited away by fairies.

Trying to track down a missing girl in an alternate reality
is just the start of Secret’s problems, though. Someone appears to be killing
teenagers, and the MO looks eerily similar to something for which the
half-fairy oracle, Calliope, might be responsible. Throw in a rogue wolf pack
claiming allegiance to Secret’s mother, Mercy, and she’ll have miles to go
before she rests.

Warning:
This book contains a promise fulfilled,
sex that’s out of this world, and more heartache than one hybrid assassin can
handle.

 

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Grave Secret:

Our forgotten beers flew off the table and onto the floor.

I gave up fumbling with his shirt buttons and had gone
instead to the belt buckle digging into my pelvis. He shucked off my jacket and
sent it flying over the couch, then pulled me abruptly into a sitting position,
my ass on the edge of the low wood table.

“Take that off,” he said, his voice husky and commanding.

At first I thought he meant my shirt, but then I realized I
was still wearing my holster and gun. Carefully I removed the leather straps
and did a quick check to make sure the weapon was safetied before placing it on
the couch rather than having it thrown somewhere. The second I had the gun out
of my hands, he was untucking my shirt and pulling it over my head. I undid the
last of his shirt buttons and pushed it off his shoulders before I tugged his
belt free of the loops on his pants with a flourish.

With his shirt off, I could see the scar on his chest. A
small, near-perfect circle slightly puckered on the edges where the silvery
skin was still pink. I touched it, reaching out slowly to give him plenty of
time to pull away or move my hand. He didn’t. Instead he stopped what he was
doing and watched as the pad of my thumb brushed the smooth circle of flesh.

In response he touched a matching silver scar on my
shoulder, making me shiver. He leaned me back onto the coffee table again, his
mouth finding the scar on my stomach where I’d been run through by the katana
which now hung over my fireplace. My collection of permanent scars was more
impressive than his, but for some reason the little circle on his chest hurt me
worse than any of my wounds had.

“I’m sorry,” I said, placing a kiss on the scar.

“I’m not.”

“You could have died.” He was busy undoing my pants, but he
went still when I said it.

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