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An Alphas & Alchemy: Elemental Shifters Prequel
Keira Blackwood
About Once Upon a Wolf
A woman knows what she wants. That goes double if she’s a shifter.
Historian to the wolves of a lost shifter world, Laurel transcribes the stories of her people. She writes a few novel tales of her own, too.
She lets her vivid imagination lead her, and she’s about to turn her greatest story into reality.
She’s sure that her dragon lord is meant to be her mate.
Until her childhood friend tells her she’s wrong.
They aren’t children anymore, and she has to admit Cypress is smoking hot. He also means more to her than she’d ever cared to admit.
What if all along her story was about the wrong hero?
Chapter One
Laurel
Taut and tanned, his back led down to an ass as tight as two unripe melons.
No, that was too much, too fast. I pinched the bridge of my nose and scratched my quill across the scroll, eradicating the words I’d just written.
The ethereal glow of the setting sun cast the guardian in a wash of golden light. His flaxen curls glimmered and shimmered in a glossy sheen. Taut and tanned, his back led down to...
‘Mighty hot buns’ wasn’t quite right. Sure, it was accurate, but it was also too much, too soon.
Inch after inch of utter male perfection.
Celedon didn’t turn, even though Laurel was so close he had to know that she was there. Entranced by the expansive stretch of his powerful wings, she took a step closer. Then another. With bated breath, she reached a tentative hand toward the dragon who had captivated not only her dreams, but her waking fancies as well.
He turned and caught her wrist. “I knew it was you.”
Her lady bits fluttered. She looked into the green fields of his eyes and her heart fluttered, too. “It will always be me.”
She reached over his shoulder and brushed her fingers across his impossibly soft yet incredibly strong wings. He closed his eyes and groaned in pleasure, for as his mate she knew all of his erogenous zones. Just as he knew all of hers.
Celedon pulled her into his arms and stole her breath with the kind of kiss she’d waited her whole life for. It was tender yet firm, just like his...
I paused with my quill as I debated a tasteful yet accurate term for penis. It was hard and big and used for thrusting like a sword, I was sure. Love sword? Too sharp. Love sausage? Too...ew. I tried to think of long things. There was a type of python, the fathach snake, that roamed the jungle. Love python, yes, I liked that.
It was tender yet firm, just like his love python that pressed hot and hard against her sweet heat. She wanted nothing more than to feel the long, rigid—
There was a knock at the door. My breathing was heavy, my body flushed with the excitement of my story. I was not ready for visitors.
“Just a moment.” Frantic, I rolled up the scroll. My fingers fumbled as I attempted to tie it shut. Making a bow with string was something I’d done a thousand times before, yet now it was like I’d never used my hands in my life.
The string finally in place, I slid the scroll onto a shelf beside hundreds of others that appeared just like it, and hurried to answer the door.
A hulking wall of muscle greeted me. A very shirtless wall of muscle.
She licked the hills and valleys of his glistening chest, taking her time as she roamed the rapturous landscape of tanned flesh.
I squeezed my eyes shut and forced my gaze upward. The man standing before me wasn’t Celedon; it was only Cypress.
“Hey.” My voice came out huskier than I’d expected. I wished away every salacious thought that filled my mind and tried to appear as if everything was normal.
My totally platonic childhood friend looked me up and down slowly, taking in the whole wanton picture, from my labored breaths to my pebbled nipples poking straight out under my dress, to the heated blush washing over my entire body. The blush settled in my cheeks and my ears, burning like a bonfire.
I wished I was dead.
Cypress inhaled slowly, no doubt scenting my desire.
Don’t ask what I’ve been doing, please.
“Everything okay, Laurel?”
I lifted my chin. “Yes, of course. I’m working.”
His eyes narrowed, instantly sensing my lie. He looked past me as if searching for someone else in my hut.
I slammed one hand on the wall in front of him and placed the other on my hip. “What do you need, Cypress?”
A droplet of sweat trailed down his chest, drawing my eye. Cypress ran his fingers through his auburn hair, flexing both his delicious abs and an arm so thick it was clear he could lift me with ease. Lift me, pin me against the wall, raise my skirt—
“Thorn needs the latest report,” he said.
My desire seemed to have transferred from the dragon of my dreams to the boy next door. Sure, Cypress was a grown man now, but I’d only ever seen him as a friend. Allowing my thoughts to stray was a betrayal to the man I was fated to spend my life with.
I lifted my attention to Cypress’s chestnut eyes. “You need a shirt.”
Amusement—at my expense, I was sure—flickered across his irises and settled in the tiny crinkle at the corner of his lids. “The reports, Laurel?”
“I’ve got it under control. Thanks.” I turned back to the wall of scrolls. Some were new, while others had been passed down for eleven generations, and everywhere in between.
As the historian of the wolf tribe, it was my duty to record the stories and lives of my people, just as it had been my mother’s duty before me, and her mother’s before her, all the way back to the first wolf shifters who’d sought sanctuary on the island from the outside world.
In addition to recording the narrative of my fellow wolves, I was tasked with monitoring the ever-present existence of the blight to the north. To me, the black speckling of leaves was something that had always been. It didn’t spread, only existed, just as it had for over two hundred years. But no one knew what it was, so like my ancestors, I recorded it and formed reports.
That was what our alpha Thorn was looking for—the latest map of infected vegetation. And I was ready, excited even, to deliver it to him. Of everyone in the village, he was the only one who spent time with Lord Celedon, Guardian of Land.
I grabbed the scrolls I needed and slipped them into my bag, sparing one last glance at the story I’d been writing. What would my gram think about me storing my fantasies alongside her maps and journals?
Maybe she’d once done the same.
I wrinkled my nose and shivered, shaking the thought of erotic tales featuring my grandparents.
A quick spin on my heels, and I stopped myself short of slamming into Cypress’s chest.
“What are you still doing here?” I sidestepped around him. “I told you I have it under control.”
With that, I hurried through the door, leaving Cypress to let himself out.
Holding tight to the strap of my bag, I let my feet carry me and my mind wander to that morning two weeks past, when I’d traveled to the northern forest to document the blight.
My bodyguard had been somewhere behind me, close enough to sense danger, yet far enough away that we both were granted space. Something had flickered in my senses, something magical. I followed, not knowing what exactly it was, only that it filled me with a joy I wasn’t accustomed to.
Upon cresting a ridge, I saw him.
The Guardian of Earth. The dragon. The man. The legend. Celedon.
He was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen, a sculpted god with wings the same shade of green as his hard eyes.
He’d placed his palm on the trunk of a sapling, one with the dark flecks I had come to record. The trunk thickened and reached up toward the sky. Branches darkened and grew long. Green leaves and cream flowers blossomed from the ends. Before my eyes, the sick sapling matured into a healthy tree as large as the tallest in the forest.
I had walked closer, wanting nothing more than to know everything there was to know about him.
Our gazes locked.
I opened my mouth and shut it again, so in awe I couldn’t speak. But I felt it, the awareness that my people waited their entire lives for—mating instinct.
He gave me a small nod of acknowledgement before spreading his wings and shooting up into the sky.
It would mean breaking the rules and traveling out on my own into the forest, but tonight I’d find my dragon once more. I’d gift him the story I was writing, and he would see me the way I saw him. He was worth the risk, because Celedon was my fated mate.
We were meant to be.
Chapter Two
Cypress
Outside the village walls, the forest was quiet. Shadows grew across the thicket of brush and fallen limbs that coated the ground. Blue faded from the sky, replaced by hues that belonged to tropical birds.
From my perch above the front gate, I could detect the approach of outsiders long before they reached Lycaon Village. Weeks would often pass between visits though, leaving little to do for me and my fellow sentries but watch over the shifters inside the walls.
Two women packed the final remnants of dinner from the communal tables while four others moved benches around the beginnings of what would become the night’s fire. A couple walked the gardens, picking fresh produce with their two small children scurrying underfoot.
Others came and went from the treehouses that made up the heart of Lycaon. Many of the dwellings were carved inside the thick trunks, while others were huts constructed of living reeds around the trees. High above, vine bridges connected the treehouses like a spider’s web. Even the palisade was alive. Between boulders of found stone grew thorny vines that held the rocks in place.
None of it interested me.
Only one villager captured my attention. But to her, I didn’t exist.
When I was six years old, my mother brought me to Lycaon for the first time. Before that day, I had known nothing but isolation and the cave the two of us had shared. The other children had eyed me with suspicion. At the time, I didn’t understand. I didn’t know that red hair was a trait that belonged not to wolves, but to the coyote pack.
But Laurel didn’t care.
She came up to me when no one else would. It didn’t bother her that I was different, that I was a half-breed. She told me she was a collector of stories, and that she wanted to know mine.
I’ve been in love with her ever since.
That’s what made the events of today so difficult to understand.
Hours had passed, yet the sweet scent of her arousal still intoxicated me. Her pupils had dilated when her emerald eyes had met my gaze. Her heartrate quickened, pitter-pattering like raindrops, as she stared at me. Her chest heaved and her lips parted, begging to be kissed. It was the first time she’d ever looked at me as more than a friend.
And then she’d rushed away.
Maybe she was afraid. Maybe I should have finally made my move.
But it wasn’t only arousal I’d sensed. There was nervousness in her scent, too.
It was right to wait until she was ready. For Laurel, I’d wait an eternity.
My foot was tapping against the watchtower floor. I hadn’t realized I was doing that. With conscious effort, I forced my leg to still, but the jittery energy remained.
From my perch, I could see everything. Everything except her.
“Hey, Patrin.” I approached the next sentinel down the line. He was leaning on the trunk of one of the great trees with his arms crossed and his mop of dark hair hanging down over his face. He’d spent the last hour dozing and could use a change of pace as much as I could.
Patrin squeezed his eyes shut and rolled his neck before meeting me halfway across the closest vine bridge. “Yeah, what is it?”
“Take the gate for me for a bit. I need to stretch my legs.”
“Sure.”
When he took my place, and I was sure he was truly awake, I wandered the network of bridges above the village to burn off some energy. The darker the sky became, the less movement there was on the streets below. People either returned to their homes for the night or settled in around the village fire.
But I hadn’t seen Laurel do either.
The last strokes of color drained from the sky, allowing the delicate blanket of stars to shine through. I stopped walking and leaned on the rail. The vines and boards beneath my feet swayed with the change in motion, then stilled.
The constellations were on full display in the cloudless sky. I looked up to Warrior, a grand wolf whose likeness was found in each of us. Farther to the west was the Guardian, the earth dragon whose power gifted Lycaon the grandest harvests on all of the island.
I looked down to the botanical gardens. By the entrance, a couple shared a passionate kiss. A knot formed in my chest. I envied their love, the mutual honesty in their vulnerability to each other.
It was unfair to expect Laurel to read my mind. But opening up risked her pushing me further away.
From somewhere in the garden, a vine shot up into the air over the top of the wall. On instinct, I hurried across the bridge to the closest ladder down. When my feet hit cobblestone, I ran to the garden.
Scaling the wall was forbidden, as was venturing into the forest alone at night. The island’s beauty was rivaled only by its danger.
The lovebirds scurried off, leaving only me and whoever I was meant to stop in the garden. I could call to Patrin, sound the alarm. But I caught a glimpse of a leg before the escapee dropped down over the wall.
A leg with a long skirt over it.
As a sentry, it was my duty to keep all of the villagers of Lycaon safe.
I paused by the wall and listened.
There were a few feminine huffs on the other side, then silence. I waited so as not to startle her.
It was also my duty to keep an eye on the forest outside of the walls.
There was no telling what she—whoever she was—was planning. Following her was the right thing to do.
After a few moments, the sound of her footsteps faded. I climbed the vine up and over the top of the wall. I dropped down on the other side and scented the air. A touch of vanilla and fallen tree—the sweet scent of aged paper. The scent of a historian, the scent of my mate.
My chest grew tight. Why would Laurel risk venturing out after dark? It didn’t make sense.
I followed her scent, keeping to the shadows.
It didn’t take long to find her. If there had been any question of her identity, one glimpse confirmed that it was Laurel. Long dark waves of hair spilled down her back, a pale green dress clung to her voluptuous frame, and a large satchel hung from her shoulder.
Even if she didn’t want me around, I would be here to keep her safe.
I would watch over any member of our pack. And Laurel wasn’t just a packmate to me. She was so much more.
Chapter Three
Laurel
Mouth as dry as sand, I forged deeper into the dark forest. My heart hammered against the tight walls of my chest, even as I told myself again that everything was going to be fine.
Meticulous planning was my specialty. I’d spent the day preparing for any possible hiccup. Everything I might need was in my bag.
There were salves for poison ivy, poison oak, poison petal, and bean bane. Suffering any skin irritation was unlikely due to my shifter nature, but it could happen.
There was snake repellent. I’d purchased the mystery pouch from an otter trader whose wares most people seemed to avoid. It smelled like sage and spring onions, and was filled with dried red and green flakes. Since I had never seen a fathach snake with my own eyes, I had no reason to assume the repellent didn’t work. I hoped it did, given they were supposedly large enough to swallow a man whole.
There was a snack of dried coulu fruit. My letter opener was in there, too, admittedly of questionable worth. Most importantly, I’d brought the scroll containing my dragon love story.
Aside from the food and the scroll, I didn’t plan on needing any of it. But better to be equipped to tackle any obstacle than regret not bringing something along.
Even after my preparations, actually starting my adventure by climbing the village wall had been terrifying.
It had also been exhilarating.
I’d never broken curfew before, or any rules, for that matter. Thrill-seeking didn’t appeal to me, and I’d never much cared what people thought, so peer pressure hadn’t been an issue either.
No rule was more important than love.
A sea of clouds washed the moon from the sky. The little shreds of light that escaped through the cracks were obscured by a canopy of needled branches. Thank the guardians for the gifts of my inner wolf.
Even in human form, my shifter eyes allowed me to see definition in my surroundings. I could distinguish between the burgundy blooms of the creeping rose and the near identical pink buds of the bean bane vine. In the quivering branches of the thorny bush, I could see that the set of beady eyes that watched me belonged to a red squirrel. The packed soil of the narrow game path I followed was riddled with old tracks. I could tell at a glance that the freshest prints belonged to a pair of deer, mother and fawn.
Shifter ears allowed me to hear the rustle of pine needles in the night air. I could make out a symphony of crickets and the hooting of an owl.
My inner wolf made me sharp enough to realize I wasn’t alone.
At first, I hadn’t been sure. Nature meant there were critters everywhere, so deciphering intention wasn’t always easy. But the more distance I put between myself and the village, the clearer the truth became. I was being followed.
My best move, of course, was to shift. As a wolf, I could run faster, I could fight fiercer, and I could bite a hell of a lot harder.
But shifting meant it would also be more difficult to carry my clothes. And my bag. I hadn’t come this far to leave my story behind now.
Keeping a steady pace, I continued my brisk walk as I dug through my bag.
A sharp prick to my finger and I found exactly what I was looking for. I flinched, instinctively pulling away from the stabby bit, then clenched my fist around the handle of my letter opener. It was sharp enough to do some damage, as my sore and bloody finger could attest. Maybe it wasn’t so useless after all.
I slowed my stride.
Whoever was out there did the same, keeping the distance between us just far enough that I couldn’t catch his or her scent. No question it was a shifter stalking me and not a less intelligent predator, or it wouldn’t have slowed, but struck instead.
After a few more paces, I knew what I had to do. I took off like a rabbit, racing as quickly as my legs would carry me, knowing that my stalker would do the same. Then all at once, I changed directions and skidded to a stop, hiding myself behind the thick trunk of a pine tree.
The bark scratched my back through the fabric of my dress. I held my breath. The air seemed to chill as I held myself as still as I could.
Hurried footsteps approached, slowing as they neared me.
A wave of dizziness clouded my head, while my insides felt hollow. The seconds seemed to drag, taking forever to pass.
I squeezed the letter opened in my damp palm and steeled my nerves. Not sure if I had the backbone to stab, but sure as sugar I was ready to flee, I jumped out from my hiding place.
Standing right in front of me was Cypress.
“You?” I couldn’t believe it. Here I was expecting trouble, and it was only Cypress. “I could have stabbed you.”
His brows shot up, clearly not expecting my ire. At least something fazed him. Then his attention flicked down to my letter opener, and he flattened his lips into a line as if he was suppressing a smile.
This situation was not funny.
I put my hands on my hips. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here for you, Laurel.” His expression softened. “You know it’s past curfew, and unsafe out here. What were you thinking?”
I was thinking about starting the rest of my life sooner rather than later. I was thinking there was no reason to wait another day before I claimed the dragon of my dreams.
“You followed me,” I said. “You have no right—”
“I have every right.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m a sentry. It’s my job.”
I threw my hands up in exasperation. Cypress flicked his attention to my fist, and to the letter opener I had been unwittingly swinging around. I dropped my hands and slid the tool back into my bag.
“Were you planning to stab me?” he asked.
I shrugged.
“Peel the wax and pop open my...paper?” That smug look returned, like he was about to laugh at me.
“What? You’re so—” I shook my head not even sure what I was going to say. “Go home, Cypress.”
“Not going to happen.”
Of course. “Then at the very least, don’t get in my way.”
I turned on my heel and started back on my way. I’d have to think of some way to lose him. Or not. Cypress didn’t matter. What mattered was finding my mate and proving to him that we were meant to be.
I couldn’t hear his steps or see him in my periphery, but I could feel Cypress behind me. He was only a few paces back, an annoying shadow I couldn’t seem to shake.
Chapter Four
Cypress
“If you won’t tell me what you’re doing out here, I’ll be forced to guess.” I leaned forward as I spoke and hoped Laurel could hear the smile in my words.
She didn’t respond, just as she hadn’t looked at me since she’d told me to go home. I couldn’t leave her even if I wanted to.
My best guess was that her meeting with the alpha had gone poorly, that he was dissatisfied with the map she’d brought to him. But if that were true, she could have left earlier in the day to complete her work, or waited until morning. There was no logical reason for Laurel to wander the forest in the middle of the night.
A thin branch whipped into my chest. I pushed it aside.
“You used glow-in-the-dark ink to create your map,” I said, venturing a guess as I’d threatened, “so now you have to trace the lines with visible ink using moonlight.”
She said nothing.
“You’re sleepwalking,” I said, guessing again. “You have no true awareness of where you are, and will remember nothing when you wake.”
The game path turned and converged with a wider passage. The tree line offered enough berth for us to walk side-by-side, but with Laurel ignoring me, I hung back.
“Okay,” I said, searching for something even more ridiculous to say. “I’m asleep and this whole thing is my dream.”
She snorted, but kept her focus forward. It turned out that she was in fact listening, which only encouraged me to continue.
“There’s an invisible bird on your shoulder telling you what to do.”
Laurel turned her head and parted her lips as if she were going to say something to me over her shoulder. Her shoe caught on a root, and she stumbled forward.
A tightness filled my chest. If she’d twisted her ankle, I’d catch her. I’d carry her, if she’d let me.
“Are you okay?” I hurried to try to help her.
She righted herself and thrust her palm toward me. A blush washed over her cheeks. “An invisible bird, really?” She averted her gaze and sucked in a deep breath. “No more talking. Please just go home, Cypress.”
I stopped. The tightness of concern morphed into a clenching fist around my heart. Rejection.
She turned and started walking, gingerly avoiding putting weight on her hurt foot.
Why wouldn’t she let me help her? Why did she always have to push me away?
Something on the ground caught my eye, crisp white on dark dirt. I reached down and picked up a scroll that Laurel must have dropped. It unrolled in my hands.
I opened my mouth to try to tell her, but became distracted by the beautifully scripted words on the page.
As she grazed her fingers over his shoulders, he shivered. A smile spread across his lips, an expression of acknowledgement.
No words needed to be shared between the pair. They both knew, and always had. They were mates, even if neither had been ready to admit their bond with words.
All this time...no, it couldn’t be. I kept reading.
But both were more than prepared to show the other with their bodies.
I stopped walking and looked toward Laurel. I had no idea that she felt this way. She wasn’t ready to say it with words, not out loud, but she poured her heart onto paper.
I knew I should stop reading and give her the scroll. But her words were a rush, and I was hooked. I had to know what she imagined passing between us next.
Soft at first, he grazed his lips over hers. She melted against him, her body flush with need. The scent of her desire clouded his senses, peeling back any semblance of control.
His tongue parted her lips, in a kiss that was as primal as it was insistent.
She clawed open his shirt, needing to feel every inch of him. Soon she would, as he hiked her skirt up and pressed between—
“Cypress! Don’t tell me that’s—”
She spread her thighs for him, giving him everything that she was. He extended his dragon wings and lifted her into the air.
Dragon wings? I raked my fingers through my hair, unable to stop myself from continuing the story.
Celedon’s love python penetrated her lady cave, connecting them as one as they flew up into the air.
It wasn’t me. Her story was about someone else. My heart sank.
Without warning, Laurel ripped the scroll from my hands. She pinched her lips together, and her whole body shook. I wasn’t sure if I should take a step back or wrap her in my arms.
“How could you?” she said. “Did you slip this out of my bag?”
I raised my hands in defense. “No, of course not.”
“This is private. What I do, my comings and goings, they’re none of your business, Cypress.”
“Laurel—” I wanted to make this right. I wanted her to understand that I’d meant no harm.
“You must really think little of me to—”
“Think little of you?” Shocked, I stared at her. “How could you ever believe that?”
She balled her hands into fists. “You read my story. You’re going to tell me that it’s stupid. That I’m ridiculous for coming out here.”
“No. I would never.”
The tension eased from her shoulders just a touch, and she lifted her brows. She stared into my eyes with trepidation.
“Your story’s incredible,” I said.
She narrowed her eyes and frowned. “Don’t lie to me, Cypress.”
She turned and started walking.
I let out a sigh of exasperation. “You know I’m not lying. You can hear the truth in my words.”
When again she did not respond, I hurried after her and put my hand on her shoulder. She turned and faced me, but didn’t meet my gaze at first.
Her mouth was tight, her cheeks were pink. And her field-green eyes were glossy.
She was delicate. She was exquisite. She was my everything. Seeing her upset pained me in a way that nothing else could.
She crossed her arms and looked up at me, resilience and defiance overtaking that small flash of vulnerability she had shown.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Your story is amazing, but you have the wrong hero.”
“What?” She closed her eyes and shook her head before looking at me once more.
“May I?” I nodded toward the scroll held tight in her hand.
She weighed my expression. I imagined she saw on my face what I saw on hers—fear.
Slowly, she outstretched her arm and offered what I’d asked for. I took the parchment, cognizant of how much this moment could mean for us, and rolled it open.
Laurel hugged her chest as if she were cold.
“No words needed to be shared between Cypress and Laurel,” I read, filling the story in the way it had always been meant to be told. I didn’t look at her for fear. I couldn’t bear the thought that she would hate it, that she would cling to her crush on a man she didn’t know, when the truth was written here in her own words the entire time.
“They both knew, and always had. They were mates, even if neither had been ready to admit their bond with words,” I read. “But both were more than prepared to show the other with their bodies.”
My heart raced, and I looked up. Her gaze was wide and she looked me over as if seeing me for the first time. I closed the scroll and repeated the last words from memory.
“Soft at first, he grazed his lips over hers.” I took a step closer and cupped her cheek in my palm.
She leaned into my touch and her eyes flickered shut. Her sweet scent enveloped and ensnared me. She leaned her palms against my chest, and her warmth spread across my skin and carried straight down to my cock.
Her heart fluttered as she tilted her chin up in anticipation.
I ran my thumb slowly across her bottom lip, and she gasped in response. I stole the sound and the moan that followed in a kiss.
Knitting her fingers into my shirt, Laurel pulled the fabric as she deepened our kiss.
She tasted even sweeter than I’d imagined, like coulu fruit and summer rain, like destiny. My heart did cartwheels in my chest, while my stomach clenched.
One moment, one kiss, and all too quickly she was pulling away.
Laurel lifted her fingers to her lips. She opened her eyes slowly, and I waited for her to say something, anything.
Time stood still, until all at once, it struck down like lightning.
My footing slipped, though I hadn’t moved. Too fast to react, our bodies collided, thrown together and lifted up into the air in a net.
Chapter Five
Laurel
Plucked from my feet, captured in a net, all I could think about was the man pressed against me.
Cypress towered over me in stature, but he’d never once intimidated me. His chest was solid muscle beneath my palms. Everything about him was hard, except his heart. He held his arm protectively around me. I fit perfectly against his chiseled body, like this was where I was always meant to be. The taste of him lingered on my lips. Not just the taste, but the feeling, too.
The reality of Cypress blew away everything I’d thought I knew.
I wanted to pull off his clothes and explore every inch of his body. I wanted to play out the story I’d written, but with Cypress.
Celedon was a fantasy. I didn’t realize it until Cypress’s kiss, but Cypress was real. What he felt for me, and what I’d always felt for him and never realized—that was real.
I was in love with Cypress.
“Are you okay?”
His voice startled me and pulled me from my thoughts. Leaning my head back against the net, I looked up.
Concern marred Cypress’s brow and settled in his chestnut eyes. I wanted to get lost in his gaze, in the feel of him, and to lift myself up enough to steal another life-changing kiss. I sucked my lips between my teeth to nip the urge.
I nodded. “I’m okay.”
He slid his hand down my back, settling it just above my ass. His thumb circled in a soft caress. I closed my eyes, reveling in his touch.
He twisted his wrist behind me, and the whole net shook. I opened my eyes to find Cypress pulling on the ropes. We jostled, and my balance shifted.
Startled, I grabbed hold of his shirt.
He didn’t seem to notice, or didn’t care. Lifting his hands up over my head, he pulled at the net.
My entire body tensed, including muscles I didn’t know I had. His leg slipped between mine, his thigh pressing deliciously at my core.
“I’m going to get us out of here,” he said.
Maybe it hadn’t been meant as a caress. Maybe I was misinterpreting everything.
No, there was no misinterpreting that kiss.
I had to move. I tried to hook my ankle around his, and shifted my hips. And there was friction.
Cypress stilled.
I moved faster, squirming to get away, when it was clearly impossible. “I’m just going to—”
Instead of away, I somehow managed to flip myself around. The net wobbled. A lattice of netting dug into the entire front of my body, including my face. Better—no worse, definitely worse, Cypress’s huge form pressed against my backside, including a particularly huge form right against my ass.
This was not how it happened in my fantasies.
One of my arms was pinned under my chest, the other stuck awkwardly out through one of the holes in the net.
My face squished into the ropes, I stared down at the forest floor, spotting my bag, which I’d been so sure would prepare me for every possibility. And I laughed.
None of this was funny. It was the opposite of funny, and yet, I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. At myself for being the cause.
Cypress shifted his weight behind me, giving me space to move my head. I moved a little, but I didn’t try to look at him. Telling him the truth would be easier if I wasn’t.
“I wasn’t sleep walking,” I said.
Of course he knew this, but he didn’t rub it in.
“I didn’t need glow in the dark ink or to follow something invisible, either.” I sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“Laurel, you don’t have to—”
“I do.” I pushed down my discomfort—at least the pride bit of it. “One day I was out in the woods. And when I saw the Guardian of Land with my own eyes, when I—”
There was a noise in the darkness below. Cypress squeezed my shoulder, signaling he’d heard it, too.
The net jolted down, dropping us a few inches before snapping still once more. I held a hand over my mouth, capturing my squeal of surprise.
A rush of cool night air carried the earthy scent of shifters. With it came a dryness that belonged to the canyon beyond the forest. Coyotes.
A shiver carried up my spine. The coyotes were our closest neighbors, a prickly lot that had been pricklier than usual as of late. They came to Lycaon Village to trade on occasion, but permitted no one to travel into their territory.
Is that what had happened? In my frustration and focus on Cypress following me, had I inadvertently led us into coyote territory? I hoped not.
“We’re lost,” I called out. “If this is your territory, it wasn’t purposeful that we—”
“This land belongs to Herrik, Alpha of Coyotes.” A deep voice carried up from the darkness.
Two coyotes circled beneath us, while another in human form stood with his arms crossed. Whoever was lowering us toward the ground made four.
What were we supposed to do? Was it possible we’d be let go by promising not to return? Would Thorn send sentries out to find us?
A thousand possibilities passed through my head, none of them pleasant.
The net lowered in jerky intervals until we were halfway to the ground.
Cypress leaned his head into the crook of my neck. His lips brushed against my ear and he whispered, “As soon as your feet hit the ground, shift.”
He was right. No matter what the coyotes had in mind for us, I didn’t want to find out. Our best chance was to shift. Shift and run. Shift and fight. We wouldn’t be a match for them without the strength of our wolves.
The net lowered, and stopped. Then lowered again.
My inner wolf simmered at the surface, ready to take control.
The net touched down, and I let go.
Fur rippled across my skin, and my bones transformed, all in the matter of moments.
Cypress tore through the net with his fangs, creating a hole large enough for him to push his huge wolf body through. He bounded forward, and I kept right at his heels. We shook off our clothes, the sound of our racing hearts filling the night.
Snarls cut through the thunder of my pulse. A coyote jumped onto Cypress’s back, burying a mouth full of fangs into his neck. I inhaled sharply, knowing it had to hurt, but Cypress didn’t react. He kept running. I jumped up next to Cypress, in an attempt to knock the coyote from his back. Cypress turned, leading me in a different direction.
“Run,” he growled in the shifter tongue.
We were running. Together. If he thought I was going to leave him, he was wrong.
The coyote on his back didn’t fall, but shook his head, tearing at Cypress’s shoulder.
I returned my focus to the ground ahead of me, just in time to see the coyote in human form standing right in front of us. He held a reed in his mouth.
Too late, I realized why.
His legs going limp, Cypress fell to the ground. The momentum kept him moving, and he skidded across the dirt. The coyote that had been on his back stood before me, while the man aimed his reed at me.
Wake up, Cypress, please.
“Shift,” the man said.
I looked once more to Cypress. I couldn’t leave him. I wouldn’t.
With no other option, I did as I was told.
The man approached. Chin up, I stood tall and hid behind a facade of confidence. The man circled around me slowly, an uncomfortable reminder that I was naked.
Nudity among shifters was normal, but being the only one without my clothes, I wasn’t only exposed, but vulnerable. Captured by hostile shifters, I didn’t need another reason to be vulnerable.
“Cooperate and you won’t be sedated,” the man said.
I nodded and shivered. Instead of covering myself, or showing any outward sign of my discomfort, I clenched my fists at my sides.
The man scooped my clothes from the net where I’d dropped them and threw them at me. I caught them, thankful for the small kindness.
He grabbed Cypress’s clothes and my bag as well. I wanted to ask for those, too, but with a look at his stern face, I decided it was better not to press my luck.
I dressed, flicking my attention from the man who seemed to be in charge to Cypress, whose unconscious body had returned to human form.
Wake up. Please.
The coyote in charge nodded toward Cypress, then looked to one of his animal companions. “Carry him.”
In a glow of white light two coyotes shifted back to human form and approached Cypress. I wanted to tell them not to touch him. I wanted to grab my bag from their leader’s grasp and beat them with it.
I didn’t.
Instead, I followed when the leader directed me to a small clearing. He pulled a vine, and two doors that I hadn’t noticed lifted from the ground.
He meant to throw me in a pit. He meant to throw Cypress in a pit.
“Wait, you don’t have to—”
The two coyote shifters carrying Cypress dropped him down into one of the holes.
I gasped, tears pricking in the corners of my eyes as I watched his body disappear over the edge.
The leader threw the end of a rope down the other pit. Then he looked at me and leveled his gaze. “Climb.”
Every instinct told me to run.
A tightness overtook my chest and clawed its way up my throat. I couldn’t outrun them if I tried. Even if I could, I wouldn’t leave Cypress.
A strange noise came out of my throat, and it sounded foreign to my ears. It was a cry, a plea, a roar.
I did what I was told, and lowered myself over the edge. It appeared to be three times my height down at least. I grabbed hold of the rope, sparing one last glance to where Cypress was, and then I climbed down.
As I shimmied down, the tears began to roll. At first only a trickle escaped, but that trickle quickly turned into a flood.
When my feet touched the ground, the rope was pulled away, and the hatch above me closed shut.
All of this was my fault. I should never have left home. I’d sealed not only my fate, but Cypress’s as well, all for a stupid fantasy.
In the pitch black, I could see nothing. I could hear nothing but the pounding of my heart, the heaves of my chest, and the sobs that I could no longer control.
Chapter Six
Cypress
Everything was black. A heavy fog filled my head, made more disorienting when I tried to move. The cold of the ground beneath me seeped through my skin, straight to the bone. I spread my fingers out against the hard-pressed soil and rolled to my back.
My eyes were open, but I couldn’t see a damned thing, not even the moon.
I blinked hard, not understanding. Why was it so dark? Where was I, and what had happened? I tried to think.
So late, outside of the village...the events of the night returned to me like a punch in the gut. And with those memories, clarity began to overtake the fog.
Laurel.
I sat up and took in my surroundings. The world around me wasn’t pitch black, but dark and lacking in detail. There was no moon, no trees, no anything. I reached out and put my hand on what appeared to be an earthen wall. What little light pierced this dirt cage came from above, through cracks along the edge of a hatch.
Okay, I was in a pit, but where was Laurel?
A soft sound reached my ears, movement on the other side of the dirt wall. As my head settled and the last of the tranquilizer wore off, I could make out breathing, growing louder and more panicked by the moment.
“Laurel?” I kept my voice soft, hoping that she could hear, praying that it was her and not someone else.
“Cypress? Are you—” She sniffled and began pounding against the barrier between us.
I put my hand against the wall, wishing I could see her, wishing I could touch her.
“Are you hurt?” I asked.
“I’m—” Her breaths were ragged. “I thought you died. I thought I’d gotten you killed.”
My chest ached at her pain. She needed to be held. I needed to hold her.
“Hey,” I said. “Everything is okay. I’m fine. You’re fine. We’re going to get out of here.”
I walked the perimeter of my cage, and searched for a means to escape. My bare foot caught on something. I looked down and found my clothes scattered across the dirt floor.
I quickly dressed and continued my task.
The walls were too smooth to climb, the height too great to jump. I’d save her though, whatever it took. For now, all I could offer was my company.
I tried to think of something that I could say that would reassure, or at the very least, distract her. No idea what to say, I started talking.
“At the edge of the world, an invisible man hid among a blessed people.”
“Invisible.” Laurel exhaled slowly, but her heart still raced.
I leaned my hands against the wall.
“That’s right,” I said. “He walked among them, appalled by their affluence, by everything they took for granted. With time, he grew numb to the stark contrast of the life he knew and the one he observed. It grew muddled, gray.”
Laurel’s breathing evened out as she listened to my story. When I closed my eyes, I imagined her leaning against the same wall, pressing her hand to mine.
“Years passed, and the opulence became commonplace, their blessings mundane. He grew so numb that he stopped noticing,” I said. “He stopped noticing everything and everyone, except for a single woman.”
Gentle sounds carried from Laurel’s direction, like she was settling down on the other side of the wall.
“In a world of gray, she was a beacon of color,” I said. “Only she didn’t know it. She believed she was invisible.”
“But he knew better,” Laurel said on a breathy sigh. “Because he saw her. And she’d felt him there all along, a comforting presence that she couldn’t quite explain. A shadow she’d taken for granted.”
“No,” I said. “It wasn’t her fault. She just couldn’t see him.”
“Until she did.”
I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against the wall. On the other side, I imagined Laurel doing the same.
“He laced his fingers in hers,” I said, “and pulled her against his chest.” I imagined holding her in my arms.
“With bated breath, she waited.” Laurel’s words took on a husky tone.
My cock strained against my pants, responding to the sound of her voice.
“Wanting nothing more than to taste her, he searched her gaze. He’d give her everything, no matter the cost. But he knew she held all of the power, and she could break him.”
“She lifted herself onto her toes and sealed her lips to his.”
The memory of her lips on mine shot the ghost of sensation across my skin. I could almost feel her breasts on my chest, and feel her heart race as she ran her fingers over my shoulders.
“He hoisted her up against the wall, and claimed her mouth with a bruising kiss,” I said. “She moaned into him, and they both let go of everything but the moment.”
“She threaded her fingers through his hair and wrapped her legs around his waist. He tasted like mint, and man, and happiness.”
A smile overtook my face.
Laurel continued, “She reached down to his love python—”
Her words were cut short, and through the silence, a shiver crossed up my spine. Footsteps. Someone was coming.
Chapter Seven
Laurel
The hatch above opened, letting in a wash of cold air and moonlight. I lifted a hand to break up the brightness as my eyes strained to adjust.
A flash of something crossed my field of vision. I squinted and lowered my hand, waiting to see who had come for me. It couldn’t be Cypress, so I tried not to let myself hope. The branches in the sky above came into focus, as did the rope that dangled down into the pit. I reached for that lifeline and grabbed hold with both hands. No matter who was up there, I had to get out of this pit.
Something coiled around my waist. I looked down. Too late, I realized it was the rope. Someone had thrown a lasso around me.
Sharp and hard, the loop tightened around my waist and I lurched forward, slamming into the wall. Desperate to free myself, I tried to dig my fingers between the rope and my stomach, but couldn’t find purchase.
The cord jolted again, lifting me awkwardly into the air.
“Let...me...go.” My body twisted and spun as I clawed at the binding and tried to catch my feet on the wall. It was no use.
“Laurel?” Cypress’s voice was no longer laced with longing, but panic.
I imagined I’d feel the same if I was him. I did feel the same. My hands were clammy, and my fingers fumbled. Everything hurt, like my skin was too tight and I could hardly breathe.
“I’m okay,” I said, knowing he’d hear my words as lies. “It’s going to be okay. It has to, right?”
“What are you doing to her?” he shouted. “Leave her be.”
As I reached the ground, my instinct was to fight. Fight, then run.
I looked around. There were three men closing in around me. They were all far bigger than me, and much stronger. What chance would I have against three, especially while I was bound?
I stilled and let them pull me to my feet.
Cypress growled and paced and tore at the walls in the other pit. I could hear his frustration, smell his fear and his anger.
“In the stories, everything works out in the end.” My lip quivered. “So ours will, too.”
A dark bag was thrown over my head, and someone grabbed my shoulder, roughly guiding me away.
“Laurel!” Cypress’s voice grew rougher, more enraged. “If you hurt her, I’ll kill all of you. I swear it.”
My gut twisted, and I tried to turn back. “Cy—”
“Let’s go.” Someone righted my shoulders and pushed a hand against my back.
My eyes burned. I didn’t want to cry.
With the bag over my head, I couldn’t even look back. If I couldn’t see, I wouldn’t know where I was going. I wouldn’t know how to get back to Cypress, and there was no way I could let that happen.
Sucking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, I tried my best to sound reasonable. “If you don’t let me see, I could fall.”
A few muffled words were exchanged between the coyotes. I tried to make out what they were saying, but it was hard to hear with my pulse pounding in my ears.
“Fine,” one of them said.
A glimmer of hope sparked in my chest. Finally, something was going right.
One of the coyotes reached his arms around me and lifted me up into the air, and over their shoulder, tamping out that spark.
Blood rushed to my head as I dangled like a sack of coulu fruit. I didn’t fight. There was no point in trying, not when I was bound and outnumbered. But I wasn’t giving up. I was biding my time.
Even in my own head, it sounded like a false promise.
The shoulder pressing into my gut knocked the air from my chest with every step the coyote shifter took. I inhaled sharply, again and again, as black dots invaded my vision. It wasn’t like I could see with the bag on my head anyway.
Think. Think. I need a plan.
“Where are you taking me?” My voice was probably muffled by the bag, but they’d still know what I was saying.
No one answered. But they did stop walking.
I turned my head, hoping to catch some noise, a voice, something.
In a quick motion, I was dropped to my feet and spun around. The bag was pulled off.
With my arms still pinned to my sides by rope, I had to shake my head to try to clear the hair from my face. I was in the forest still, so that was a good sign. We hadn’t gone far, which meant it’d be easier to find my way back to Cypress.
“Wolf.” A dark voice startled me.
I turned my head slowly, like a rabbit afraid to be seen. My eyes were wide and unblinking, my heart hammering against my ribs. Maybe he means a different wolf.
Then I saw him. Herrik, Alpha of Coyotes was here. Worse, he approached.
Auburn hair with all the height, strength, and presence of command, Herrik looked much like my Cypress. But where Cypress’s eyes were kind, Herrik’s were harsh and unforgiving.
There was something about him that made every one of my hairs stand on end. I couldn’t say what exactly it was, but I’d felt it when I’d seen him in Lycaon Village for a meeting with my alpha. It was worse now, a twisted, unsettling sensation I couldn’t shake.
“You’re spying on me.” He leaned in close and inhaled as if he found the truth in my scent.
The truth was that I was terrified, nothing more.
“I’m not,” I said. “I swear.”
“Wolves don’t stray so far from their den after the sun goes down.” He circled me slowly.
Whichever of his minions held me with his hand clamped on my shoulder squeezed a little harder. I sucked in a sharp breath as Herrik reached the edge of my view.
“That’s generally true,” I said. “We’re not supposed to be out this late, but—”
“You’ve crossed into my territory, wolf. You don’t belong here.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I got lost and—”
Herrik circled back around to where I could see him. What I thought would be reassuring wasn’t, because his scowl had deepened. He didn’t believe me. Why wouldn’t he believe me?
“And—” What was I saying? “I was looking for a dragon, for Celedon, Guardian of Land. I swear it’s the truth. You can feel it, right? Hear it in my voice?” My voice that was rising higher and breathier as I grew more and more frightened.
Herrik dropped his brows so low I almost missed his left eye twitch.
See the truth. Please.
He flattened his lips into a line, and cocked his head to the side. “The serpent’s tongue need not lie to sew discord.”
“What?”
With a wave of his hand and the tick of his jaw, Herrik steeled his stance. “Return her to the pits.”
“No, please.” I reached out to beg him to reconsider. I needed more time, I needed—
The rope holding me pulled hard against my waist, jolting me back. My view of the world was stolen as the bag was slipped back over my head.
I’d failed. The pit in my stomach sank into a crater. Whatever they planned to do with us next, it couldn’t be good.
Chapter Eight
Cypress
The ledge was too far to reach. That hadn’t stopped me from trying, over and over again.
Not long after Laurel was taken, in the height of my furious attempt to claw my way to the surface, one of the coyote shifters above had bashed me in the head with a wooden pole.
After my head stopped ringing, I searched for other options. I couldn’t climb out and I couldn’t dig through to Laurel’s pit. But I could dig a bit at the floor.
Quiet so as not to incite another head trauma, I dug the toe of my shoe into the dirt. It was the same movement, in the same location, as I’d kicked for the past few minutes. Finally, the rock loosened enough that it rolled along the sole of my shoe.
I plucked the dislodged stone from the ground and safely deposited it into my pocket with the others.
Four small rocks. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough.
A branch snapped from somewhere in the forest. I held my breath and listened. Footsteps approached.
Laurel, please come back. Please be okay.
I backed to the wall to see as far as I could. It wasn’t much. Waiting felt like an eternity. I remained still and watched.
Finally, I caught a glimpse of those who approached.
Two men stepped into view. They wore their hair short, and their clothes a dark green to blend in with the forest, as did the coyote shifters we’d encountered before. By scent, I knew they were the same shifters who had captured us in their net.
One of them pulled a rope, and a woman with her face hidden in a black hood stumbled forward. No question, she was Laurel. My chest clenched, and I balled my fists around the rocks in my pocket.
Not yet.
A third man walked up to the others, then changed paths and headed the other way, leaving only two. We could take two.
Back home, Laurel spent most of her time in her hut writing. But she was strong, perhaps stronger than she gave herself credit for. When the time came, she’d fight. It was up to me to make sure she could win.
“What’d he say?” one of the coyotes asked the other.
“He doesn’t believe her story,” the other answered. “But I can tell you, she wasn’t lying.”
The first shook his head. “So we what, throw her back in the pit and leave them here to rot?”
The second shrugged.
Like hell. I refused to let our story end like this.
“Come on.” The coyote shifter shoved Laurel forward.
Fury rushed through my veins, and I sprang into action, throwing the contents of my pocket. Four small stones flew through the air and pegged the fleabag in the face.
“Laurel!”
Upon hearing my voice, Laurel ripped the hood from her head. She kicked the stumbling coyote shifter, knocking him into the pit beside mine.
The other coyote shifter tackled her to the ground.
I paced back and forth, helpless.
The pole that had been used to bash my head fell down over the ledge.
I grabbed hold without hesitation and climbed like my life depended on it, because my mate’s life did. Over the edge, I found her on the ground, her attention flicking back from me to the man attempting to wrangle her. He had her pinned and struggled to capture her arms.
She had pushed the pole down for me.
A smile crossed her lips just before the coyote shifter flipped her over onto her back.
“You’re going to regret that, bitch,” he growled.
I charged at him, seeing red. “She won’t, but you will.”
The coyote shifter looked up, and his eyes went wide as he noticed me. Too late.
I shoved him off of Laurel, and it felt good. He tumbled back and in a glow of white light shifted into his beast. It didn’t matter.
I threw a punch into his fur-covered ribs. Then again.
The coyote snarled and whipped his fangs toward my arm. He was too slow.
My third punch was met with a yelp.
“Cypress.”
I punched him again. This time, the coyote didn’t make a sound.
“Cypress, stop.” There was a soft touch on my shoulder.
It was Laurel. I turned and found my mate wearing a concerned expression.
I threw my arms around her and pulled her against my chest. She was okay. Nothing else mattered.
“We have to go.” Laurel squeezed her fingers into my back. “More of the coyotes will come.”
I breathed her in a moment longer. But I knew that she was right. We had to leave. She wouldn’t be safe until we did.
To let go of human form, I had to let go of Laurel first. It wasn’t easy. I wanted to hold onto her and never let go. Reluctantly, I forced myself to release her and take a step back.
“Wolves?” she asked.
I nodded. “We go as wolves.”
We stripped off our clothes. It was not the first occasion I’d been privy to her beautiful bare form. As shifters, being naked together didn’t have to mean anything. With Laurel, everything meant more. Her breasts were pert, her hips wide. She was both toned and soft.
Every time I saw her shift, I couldn’t help but be in awe of her beauty. A fleeting glimpse was all I could get before her form was overtaken in luminescence.
But her wolf was just as stunning. She was petite with a gray coat so fair it appeared as a shimmering shade of silver. I would never grow tired of looking at her, no matter the situation or her shape.
I loved her. I always had, and I always would.
Without wasting time, I reached to my inner wolf and relinquished control. The transformation was fast, and I hit the ground running on four legs instead of two.
“This way,” I said in the shifter tongue, and started off in the direction of our village. Laurel kept pace, easily matching my strides.
As wolves we were faster and more in tune with our surroundings. Sounds and sights were sharper, as were our teeth.
The air carried the dry earthiness of coyotes long past where their scent should have faded if they weren’t following us. It was difficult to tell where or when they would reappear, but they were definitely close.
We needed distance. We needed them to lose our trail, if only for a short time.
I turned off the well-worn path and forged ahead through low branches and brush. We trudged across rough terrain, making our own way through the forest.
Still, the scent of our pursuers remained strong.
Under a fallen tree and around a thorny bush, I turned onto a narrow passage, following deer tracks. There was more space and less resistance, so we could run faster. I glanced back. Laurel was still with me.
I turned back around, just in time to see a coyote skitter out into the path. He was big and domineering, clearly an alpha.
“Herrik,” Laurel gasped.
I skidded to a halt and took a step back. We couldn’t run back the way we had traveled. But maybe I could buy Laurel enough time that she could escape.
“Seems I was right.” Herrik bared his teeth at us. “Serpent in wolf’s—”
Quick as current, a mass of gold and black scales appeared from the shadows. Before I could react, the huge jaw of a serpent stretched wide, showing fangs as long as my arms. The fathach snake snapped its jaw around Herrik, swallowing him whole. I put myself between Laurel and the head of a giant reptile. The snake turned its face toward us, and its forked tongue shot out. Just as quickly, it sucked its tongue back in, then turned back to continue on its path down the game trail, sparing us.
My heart hammered in my chest, and I let out a slow exhale.
Perhaps the coyote alpha would survive. Likely not. Either way, when the tail of the snake disappeared into the forest, we were free. A weight lifted as the scent of coyotes faded into the distance and we returned to wolf territory.
The others weren’t coming. There had only been Herrik.
A few miles from Lycaon Village, the sun began to rise, casting a soft radiance over the forest.
I continued down the path, only to realize Laurel had stopped. I turned back and found her staring into the distance. I followed her gaze.
Standing between a cluster of saplings was a man I didn’t recognize. His back was turned to us. I watched as a set of huge green wings appeared from his shoulder blades and spread out between the trees, flexing. My breath caught.
Dragon. I’d never seen one with my own eyes, only heard the stories.
“Celedon!” Laurel barked in the shifter tongue.
That dragon.
The sense of awe of such a rare glimpse of one of the guardians soured in my gut, leaving a bad taste in my mouth. The end of our journey brought us to the man Laurel had sought, the man she’d fantasized about, the man she’d wanted all along.
After everything that had happened, I wanted to believe she’d changed her mind. But standing here, watching the delight overtaking her features, I wasn’t sure.
She wagged her tail and looked at me, then back at the dragon.
“Let’s go.” Laurel bumped my side with her shoulder, then took off. I followed her toward the dragon.
The air was heavy as we drew closer. There was an oppressive quality, an intense version of the energy Thorn and Herrik put off. Instinct told me to lower my gaze and bow my head, but somehow I couldn’t look away.
The dragon tucked his wings in so they curved around him like a protective shield, and he turned to us.
“Hi, Celedon,” Laurel said. “I mean, Lord Guardian of Land.”
His jaw ticked and his brows lowered as he looked first at her and then at me.
“I don’t know if you remember me,” she said. “We met once in the northern woods. I’m Lycaon’s historian.”
“I remember you,” he said before turning his attention to his hands. Between his palms, swirls of green light danced. He laid his hands on the trunk of a mature tree, one whose bark had taken on a gray quality. The bark around his fingers turned brown and the cracks smoothed. The color spread, like a balm healing its skin.
“Oh,” Laurel said. “Well I just wanted to say hello and introduce you to my mate. This is Cypress.”
The dragon nodded and we exchanged pleasantries, but all of it faded beneath the fullness in my heart. My dreams had finally come true—the woman I’d loved since I was a boy had chosen me as her mate.
Epilogue
Laurel
Thirty moons had passed since my misadventure. Thirty moons since I’d realized the truth that had been in front of me all along. Thirty moons since I’d proclaimed my undying love to Cypress.
But our union wasn’t official until today.
Most modern couples chose not to cement their bond with a public ceremony, but I had my own ideas. As historian, I’d read tales of huge gatherings that united all the shifters of the island. I’d read about small gatherings of close friends and family.
That’s what I’d wanted, the opportunity to share our bond with our pack.
We stood before our alpha, surrounded by our people, in Lycaon’s great garden. The evening glow made the pops of colorful blooms appear brighter.
Though Cypress and I lived together already, and shared every aspect of our lives together, my hands were shaking. Heat rose up to the tips of my ears, and everyone else faded away as I stared into my mate’s chestnut eyes.
Cypress smiled. “I promise to never stop chasing you.”
“Even if I run?”
“Especially when you run.”
My cheeks hurt from smiling so hard.
Thorn let out a dark chuckle from his place before us. He took Cypress’s and my hands and joined them together.
“I promise that you will be the hero of all my stories,” I said.
“I promise you my loyalty, my love, and my life.”
Tears of joy pricked at the corners of my eyes. “Same.”
Thorn conjured a sprout from his palm. It glowed in ethereal light as it took shape. The vine coiled around my arm as it grew, down over where my fingers entwined with Cypress’s, and up to his elbow. Tiny buds opened, covering our arms in golden blooms.
The beautiful display was like our love, ever growing for all to see. But like everything else, it was in my periphery. The only thing I saw with clarity was Cypress, standing in front of me.
“The flowers of the passion vine represent your thriving bond,” Thorn said. “Place it by your front door and it will take root. As the years pass and your love grows, so will the plant.”
I squeezed Cypress’s hand, and he squeezed back.
“May the pack recognize Cypress and Laurel as mates.” Thorn took a step back and lowered his voice. “Congratulations.”
Cypress scooped me up off my feet and cradled me in his arms. His hold on me was slightly awkward with our arms still connected by the vine. I laughed as he started running, carrying the two of us through the village toward our home.
“Slow down,” I laughed.
“Can’t,” he said.
“Why not?”
“Since the moment I saw you in this dress, I’ve been dying to peel it off.”
“Oh.” A flash of excitement pulsed through my veins.
He skidded to a stop in front of our front door. I uncoiled the vine from our arms as he popped open the door, and dropped the plant down to take root.
I expected Cypress to take me to the bedroom, but instead, he stopped just inside the door and set me on the table where I worked on my maps and stories. He stepped between my legs and lifted my chin so our gazes met.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, then crushed his lips over mine.
I tore at his pants, still in awe that this was real. We were real.
His tongue was soft and insistent, parting my lips. His hands roamed over my dress, settling on my shoulders. He hooked the straps of my dress in his thumbs and slid them down over my arms, baring my breasts to the cool air. I shivered, dropped his pants, and grabbed the thickness of his cock.
He tilted into my palm and groaned.
He pulled my dress up, and moved his kisses down, claiming my neck, my collarbone, my breasts. I arched into him and wiggled my way out of my underwear.
As desperate for him as he was for me, I wrapped my legs around his hips and pulled his tip to my entrance.
“Please,” I begged.
He reached around to my ass and guided me to the edge of the table, teasing before scraping his teeth over my shoulder. I moaned and bucked my hips, needing him, all of him.
He thrust hard, shooting an intense pressure through me. I gasped and clenched around him, my nails in his shoulders. He eased back and lifted his gaze to mine.
“Too much?” His eyes were fire.
I shook my head no. “More.”
He obliged, this time going deeper. I cried out and grasped desperately to the desk and his shoulder for something to hold onto.
His retreat was deliciously slow, leaving me hungry for more.
When I thought I’d starve for him, he pressed back in.
Being with him was a dream I never wanted to wake from. Now that we were forever, I knew I didn’t have to.
The hard rhythm built, growing more intense with every thrust.
More, harder, faster.
I could hardly breathe, hardly think, as I let myself succumb to the sensations of the expression of our love.
A rush of pleasure hit me all at once. I fell back, reveling in the pulse of my core.
My eyes were heavy, my breathing jagged. I lay on my back, lost to the sedation of absolute contentment. Cypress eased out of me, bent down and kissed my forehead.
I could have lived just like this, stayed in a state of bliss floating forever.
“That was—” I exhaled and looked up at him. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” His smile was proud, his gaze hotter than before. “Always have. Always will.”
I looked down to where he pumped his huge love python in his fist. He was nowhere near ready to stop.
My lady bits tingled at the thought.
I rolled over to my stomach and dropped my legs down over the edge of the table. Then I looked back at him.
“You can’t stand, can you?” he asked, a pleased look still glued to his face.
I shook my head. “Probably not. But with you, I can never get enough.”
He lifted my skirt and slapped my ass.
It was a delicious sting to complement the pleasure.
“Yes,” I cried out.
He gently rubbed where he’d slapped, and I leaned back, aching for more of his touch, more of his cock, more of everything.
He reached around and found my clit, touching the tender nub with two fingers. Shots of pleasure coiled through me and I knew I wouldn’t last long.
In one hard, fast motion, he filled me. A few rocks of his hips, and I careened over an invisible cliff, pulsing in pleasure. He laced his fingers in mine on the table. I was safe with him, loved, cherished. This time, I felt his body tense as we came together.
Any energy or strength I’d had left washed away, and I was happy mush.
Cypress lifted me in his arms and carried me toward the bedroom. I looked up at him, content against his chest.
How had I gotten so lucky?
I spread my fingers over his pecs, enjoying the hard, masculine the feel of him. My forever. My mate.
His voice was a rumbling promise. “I’m going to rub you down, so every muscle is languid, and when you’re ready, we can act out whatever fantasy you want from the pages of your scrolls.”
“You think so?” I asked, wiggling so he dropped me to my feet. I wobbled a little, but he steadied me with his strong yet tender touch.
“Anything you want.”
“Those stories are the past.” I shoved his shoulders, knocking him down onto the bed. “I have an endless imagination, and plenty of new ideas of what to do with you.”
He smiled up at me and lifted me gently onto his lap. “I can’t wait to find out about whatever naughty fantasies you concoct.”
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The End
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WANT MORE DRAGON ISLAND? Grab Celedon’s story Dragon Guardian of Land here!
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About the Author
KEYBOARD NINJA, LATE-blooming bibliophile, proud geek, animal lover, eternal optimist, visual artist.
USA Today Bestselling Author Keira Blackwood writes steamy urban fantasy and paranormal romance full of suspense, action, and a dash of humor. No cheating. Always a happily-ever-after.
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