House of Fae
Fear slipped through the bond, and his eyes lifted from the document. He pushed away from his desk when Nena’s uneasiness tingled over his spine. The beast inside stirred.
A portal opened beside his desk, and he entered onto a great field. Nena stood in the grass in nothing but a t-shirt and panties, staring toward the road. Something he couldn’t see called to her. He sensed the malevolent spirit in waves. Nena’s magic rose in reaction.
The beast emerged from his body, flying toward the road.
Nena blinked her eyes, turning toward him, and he saw the spell covering her with Fae sight. A jolt of his magic dissolved it.
The evil left the area with a scream, and the Spirit of the Fae returned to his body.
Frightened eyes locked with his, and her magic calmed.
“Tristan?” she asked, confused.
Five long strides, and he lifted her against his chest just as she became aware. “I’m here.”
He carried her into the small cabin. She shuddered in his arms. “Tristan? What happened? Why are you here? And why am I outside?”
He didn’t want to alarm her, but he didn’t want to lie either. “You were sleepwalking and called to me.”
“I’ve never sleepwalked in my life.”
He laid her on the bed and snuggled behind her, gathering her close to his chest. She didn’t remember what happened. Tremors wracked her body, so he covered her with the quilt. “Go back to sleep, Nena.”
She sighed, snuggling her ass to his groin, and his eyes rolled to the ceiling.
“You don’t have to stay.”
She yawned, and he frowned over her head. There was no way he’d leave her. “I know.”
Nena turned over, pressing her face to his chest with one arm over his stomach. “Calling to you has become a bad habit, lion.”
She smiled against his chest, and he cupped the back of her silky head, holding her close. “I told you I’d wear you down.”
She chuckled against his chest, but never said another word. Within fifteen minutes, she fell asleep, but he remained awake, watchful, staring at the window and the door. That was a spell, and a powerful one.
When she pushed one shapely thigh between his, burrowing even closer, he groaned. He’d entered his own personal form of hell.
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house of lycan
Dagen Quinn moved through the employees in attendance with one person in mind. Stevie hadn’t appeared yet, but she should arrive momentarily. His face lifted, and he inhaled a deep breath, focused on the elevator doors. The air caught in his lungs when they opened.
Stevie emerged with a bright smile for each person who greeted her. A snug, navy-blue dress hugged her slender form and descended to her knees in softer waves. Curled locks of white-blonde hair fell against her slim shoulders.
A sly smile lifted the corners of his lips, and his eyes narrowed to slits. They met over a year ago in a crowd similar to this and shared one passionate night. He assumed she might have been a traveler staying at the same hotel as him, but he now knew she worked in his firm and lived in the United States.
Their first introduction was in Paris, France, at a conference he hosted for management. Drinks at the hotel bar, and witty conversation late into the night turned into more. With so many people in attendance, he didn’t realize she worked for his expansive company since she wore no nametag.
Why didn’t she tell him who she was? She stole his breath with her beauty, humor, and intelligence. Their connection and attraction strengthened by the second. After falling asleep, she slipped away before morning. Her scent on the pillows and on him was the only evidence she’d slept in his bed.
She left no note or name, and there was no evidence of her identity or a way to contact her, but he never forgot their encounter. She branded him and didn’t even know it. He sifted through the employees in attendance for months without luck. He assumed she resigned or was a traveler, but never stopped searching.
By luck, a brochure landed on his desk three days ago. It wasn’t the material on advertising that caught his eye, but the photo of the woman seated at her desk. He never attended the awards banquet for any United States office, but for her he damn sure would, and especially now.
Dagen’s face tilted, mesmerized, as Stevie paused between the double doors to the conference room. The corner of his lip twitched, an almost snarl forming. Her touch was featherlight on his body, but her nails left marks on his skin each time he brought her to climax. His flesh bore the scars from those nails. Only his true mate could produce a permanent effect on his skin. How she hid the knowledge was a mystery he meant to solve.
Soft thighs grazed his shoulders, feasting on her pussy, soaking his mouth in delicious honey. A growl rumbled low and deep in his chest when he remembered coming apart in her mouth as well. His dick twitched at the heated memories, and his wolf stirred. The craving for her drove him insane since they’d been apart.
With determination and a little insanity, he inhaled a deep breath, stalking the woman he intended to spend the rest of his life with. It may be pure hell for both of them, but he was up for the challenge.
Her face turned to him.
Their eyes met.
She backed three steps from the door, bumping into anyone and everyone, knocking files, papers and phones from their hands.
People stared, their worried faces darting between him and Stevie.
“You,” he grumbled, pointing one finger.
“Shit,” she squeaked.
“Stevie Frances,” he barked.
She jumped, looked both ways, and bolted into the nearest hallway.
“Mr. Quinn. We’re ready.”
“You handle it,” he yelled, slamming the doors open with a growl. Lightning flashed in the windows, thunder crashed, and several people gasped behind him. Her scent hit him full force, and his muscles twitched. She wouldn’t get away this time.
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house of unseelie
The fragrance of roses saturated the small dining room. It was a sign of the dead’s presence and could be pleasant or odorous, depending on the soul. The chandelier swayed as a strong breeze blew through the space, circled both occupants, and peacefully settled. Dim lights flickered and cast shadows to slide across the walls.
The whisper of something that shouldn’t be in the living realm caressed Celine’s cheek. Her palms twitched on the dining room table, and, with the slight tilt of her head, she waited for an invitation.
It wasn’t polite to barge your way into the world of the dead. She kept her aura peaceful, tempting the soul with her gift. It wanted to communicate, or it wouldn’t be here. The spirit brushed against her arm, cool and gentle. A whispering moan echoed in the room. It was time.
Her eyes closed at the same moment a deep breath left her parted lips. Her soul transitioned to hover just behind the chair her physical body occupied. The eyes of her separated spirit opened immediately, and she searched for the entity, the departed man she sought.
Celine located his smoky-gray form in a dark corner of the dining room. He nodded once and slowly ascended through the ceiling until his essence was undetectable. She allowed her soul to follow the soul of the man into the place where all spirits dwelled, into the Domain of Souls.
Her astral projection halted in the lower domain. To go any further could spell disaster for one such as herself, a living medium. It wasn’t her time to pass, so her soul still belonged in her physical body.
Because she could easily lose her way or the desire to return, her time was limited in this place. The lower domain served as a welcoming platform with a serene-like atmosphere. It calmed the spirits, allowing them to accept their new state of being before ascending into the middle domain.
Celine’s gaze lifted. Millions of souls wandered in the milky-white space above her head, the middle domain. They shuffled back and forth, with no purpose in their silent steps. These spirits hadn’t yet elevated into the place of peace, or the upper domain, and lingered for many reasons.
Some died unexpectedly, not realizing they were dead, some had unfinished business with living loved ones, and some died too early by nefarious means. Some entities were filled with rage and some with restlessness.
There were many reasons the soul of a person didn’t elevate into the upper domain. She understood and accepted their reasons without judgment, straining to hear the jumbled words they murmured.
Attuned to the spirit that entered her home, Celine politely waited for the message her client sought. She studied his form among the sea of spirits, not understanding why he invited her, but now seemed evasive. The grayish entity slid back and forth among the other spirits, remaining within her sight. Her corporeal form floated forward until he slowly ascended into the middle domain.
Unease crept along her spine when the soft-spoken words suddenly turned into moans and shrieks from hundreds of spirit voices. Never had she been afraid in this realm, but fear laced with panic overwhelmed her spirit. Her gaze didn’t stray from the soul-frothed sea above her face as she slowly backed away.
A wispy hand unexpectedly dropped from the mass of souls, and Celine paused. Her head tilted, studying the hand. She floated in the abyss, trying to determine which spirit it belonged to. Her weightless hand lifted, but she hesitated.
Her instincts screamed this wasn’t right, and she’d been warned by her mother about the middle domain, but this was the reason she came. There was no room for doubt. Her client paid her money for this gift, and she couldn’t return to her body without an answer.
Who murdered this man and why?
Celine grasped the hand and immediately regretted her decision. Cold slithered over her corporeal skin, attempting to engulf her soul. The hand tugged as the spiritual moans intensified. The grip of the hand strengthened.
She attempted to jerk away without success. Her soul lifted toward the middle domain against her will. The polite invitation morphed into a spiritual attack in three seconds. She should’ve listened to her instincts. The spirit of the man wasn’t what he seemed. This wasn’t the peaceful presence in her home.
More hands dropped as she neared the barrier separating the lower and middle domains. Terror seeped deeper into her soul when her head breached the divide. Unfriendly fingers slithered across and through her spiritual skin, squeezing as they latched onto her arms and shoulders. These entities shouldn’t be here. They hadn’t accepted their deaths or made any kind of peace, clinging to rage. Never had she experienced such evil in the spiritual realm.
Afraid of what she would witness, Celine closed her eyes. She didn’t want to see what waited for her. Once her entire soul entered the middle domain, the moans and screams immediately stopped, and the hands latched onto her soul faded into nothing. Eerie silence filled the void where a few moments ago the voices were undiscernible.
She fumbled to grasp the black tourmaline suspended from her neck on a silver chain, whispering a silent prayer for strength, guidance, and protection to whatever deity might be listening. Her eyelids slowly lifted, expecting the worst, but there wasn’t anything except the whitish expanse of the middle domain. No souls remained besides hers, floating weightlessly in the abyss.
Minutes passed before the screams began again. Celine cringed, waiting for the evil to reveal itself when a black form appeared in her field of vision. She strained to make out the entity rushing toward her.
Bracing herself as best she could, Celine held her breath until a mouthful of sharp teeth snapped right before her face. She gasped and tried to slide backward, but the demonic soul wrapped its thin arms around her body and refused to let go. A scream erupted, riding over the souls.
The demon hissed close to her ear, whispering vile words until she thought her head would explode. Its razor-sharp teeth clicked together, followed by a menacing laugh. “You’ll be the vessel by which I enter the realm of the living, Celine.”
She wrestled against the demonic force holding her as anger, retaliation, and repulsion churned in her spirit. “You can’t possess a soul, demon!”
The demon chuckled, strengthening its hold on her soul. “Stupid necromancer. You have no harnesser, so I’ve tethered to you.”
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House of Dragons
Tobias tracked his mate’s scent deeper into the cave system. Voices faded, and light grew sparse. Since his return, he desperately wanted time alone with Ara. His eyesight shifted to infrared the farther he traveled, everything in his path identified by heat or cold signature.
Cool blue water trekked on the walls.
Thermal pockets glowed yellow or red.
Mineral deposits were lit in various shades of white, pink, or gold.
He pivoted into a side tunnel, Ara’s mating scent luring him to her. A massive cavern opened, and he leaned against the stone, lurking in the inky black. A small stream trickled into an aqua blue pool, stalactites suspended from the ceiling, and steam vents created a light haze on the floor.
That she chose water for their rendezvous, when she didn’t like it, pleased him. She was a fire dragon, after all.
Ara burst from the water, sending water droplets high in the air. Flaming red hair flipped over her head to smack against her back. Toned and beautiful, her luscious body glowed red with the fire dragon’s heat.
She glanced over her shoulder but didn’t turn around. With both hands, she cupped her wet breasts, rolling her nipples between her fingers. Her hands slid slowly over her stomach and curvy hips before sliding between her sweet thighs. Water droplets sluiced over her silky skin.
Tobias licked his lips and laid his head against the stone, content to observe and suffer in silence. It was normal for him to watch and not touch, to see her in his dreams, but to never caress her skin.
Her head rotated on her shoulders, and her hands continued to move lower until her fingers slid between her folds. A hiss escaped when she moaned softly, torturous music to his ears. His clothing disappeared, and he gripped his dick, sliding his hand over the engorged length.
She grabbed one breast again, two fingers working her clit. Her toned ass tensed, the muscles contracting and releasing. She withdrew her hand and dipped one finger in the cold water. His body thrummed with desire when she turned and placed one foot on a rock, baring her sweet pussy for him.
He gulped, eyes narrowing, watching every little movement. She pressed the cold digit to her clit, rubbing herself. Her back arched, and she bit her bottom lip, tits lifting for him. The tips of her hair trailed in the water behind her, and her skin glowed red hot in the dark cavern.
She was a beacon for him alone, his heaven or hell depending on her mood, and right now she called to him.
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