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Copyright,© Shannon West and Painted Hearts Publishing, 2026. All rights reserved. Image by Dan Skinner
Part 5
Ragan had a hard time going to sleep. Donovan’s sweet body felt so good in his arms, and his cock ached and burned with wanting him. He knew exactly when Donovan dropped that rigid control and allowed his body to relax. He’d sagged a little, like a tired child, and allowed Ragan to draw him closer to his body. Making him go naked had only added to Ragan’s misery and didn’t seem to bother Donovan in the least. Ragan sighed and rolled to his back, staring at the ceiling.
He vividly remembered the first time he’d seen Donovan on the closed-circuit cameras in the arena holding rooms. The sponsors of the Games decided to put cameras inside the holding areas with a continuous feed, both as a way to further degrade the Alliance prisoners and as a way to build interest in the coming gladiator contest.
Ragan had been struck almost immediately by Donovan. Not only was he the most beautiful captive to Ragan’s eyes, but he was also the bravest and most defiant. He didn’t necessarily bait the guards but was always ready for them when they prodded them with sticks through the bars or jeered at them like animals in their cages. Even in defeat, he was magnificent.
Right away he made plans to personally fight him in the arena and save his life. At the time he thought only to reward such audacity, but when he actually saw him the night of the contest, he knew he had to have him for his own.
Those exotic blue eyes had measured him carefully when he stood across from him, but he’d saved his energy and didn’t respond to Ragan’s feints and subterfuges, simply looking on while Ragan played to the crowd. When Ragan finally attacked with his mace, he tried to telegraph his intentions clearly and was proud of Donovan when he easily outmaneuvered the attempt. Still, Ragan was afraid he might hurt himself by doing something rash, so he’d whispered to him to pretend he was hurt. The hoax had paid off, and he’d been able to get him out of the killing arena still in one piece.
It was the next Game, however, that Ragan worried about the most. Traditionally, this next deadly game killed fifty to seventy percent of its participants. Somehow, he had to prepare Donovan to be one of the survivors, so he could stay with him forever. The alternative was quickly becoming unthinkable. Even though he’d known him only a short time, he couldn’t bear the image of his body still and cold in death.
Donovan would face Ragan again as his opponent in the next Game, but this time the conflict would be deadlier, and the game would be out of Ragan’s conscious control. His beast would take him over, and his beast would try very hard to kill Donovan.
The only question was, how he could get Donovan to survive despite the odds? He was so defiant and unyielding, making no secret of his dislike for Ragan and all the Tygerians. If he could gain his trust, and yes, his obedience, he might be able to gain his love as well. Donovan’s complete faith in Ragan and his love for him were the only ways to help Donovan defeat the beast.
The beast who would face Donovan wouldn’t recognize him or have any desire other than to spill his blood unless a mating bond had been formed. A mating bond would defy the change and render the beast incapable of harming Donovan. In order for a mating bond to form, however, Donovan must completely accept him as his master. Donovan must totally give him his trust and his faith and his love. Otherwise, the beast would sense it and destroy him.
The problem was, the more he pushed him, the more defiant and resistant he was becoming. He’d looked at Ragan with something like hatred earlier, and it was a knife twisting in his heart. Sometimes he saw a look in Donovan’s eyes that made him think he was close to giving up. He couldn’t allow that to happen. He had to reawaken that fighting spirit in Donovan he’d fallen so much in love with.
The secret, Ragan believed, lay in gaining Donovan’s love. If he could make Donovan return his love and give him a reason to survive, a mating bond might be possible, even in the short time they had.
Donovan puzzled him a little. On one hand, he seemed to dislike Ragan, but on the other, Ragan was sometimes surprised to see an admiring look in his eyes, just a flash of attraction before he carefully hooded his eyes again. Left to his own preferences, he thought Donovan, like most of the other humans, would have preferred the opposite sex. Yet he knew that on long space voyages when women weren’t available, men often used each other’s bodies. Jealously, he wondered if Donovan had taken one of the other prisoners as a lover. The idea made him so unreasonably furious he pushed it away.
Ragan himself had other lovers, but he’d never before even contemplated taking a nobyo. Nobyos were held in high esteem by his people, and it was important to take care in choosing one. Ragan had known Donovan would be perfect from the moment he saw him in the arena.
He’d promised him a punishment in the morning, but he had no idea what that might be. He didn’t want to hurt him in any way, or push him away even further, though he enjoyed teasing him and watching those little blushes stain his cheeks. Perhaps a spanking, though not to punish but to arouse him? The idea of spanking his perfect little ass certainly made Ragan aroused.
If he could do it, if he could get Donovan to a high state of arousal, it could possibly move their relationship along very quickly. The sooner he became his willing lover, the better.
He rolled back toward him and pulled him closer, kissing the back of his neck. Donovan sighed in his sleep and snuggled his ass into Ragan’s crotch. Ragan rolled his eyes and moaned. His nobyo might truly be the death of him. He would make him obey him and think of him as his lover, his master. The mating bond must be forged, and quickly, or else he could lose Donovan forever.
Donovan had slept badly. For one thing, Ragan had fondled him all night long, keeping him in a constant state of arousal. For another, about midway through the night, he began to worry about six repetitions of a punishment carried out by this massive giant lying next to him and wondered if he would even survive.
When Ragan awoke, he pulled Donovan’s head around to face him and looked deeply into his eyes. “We’ll have your punishment and get it out of the way, shall we?”
“I guess I have no choice.” As an afterthought he tacked on, “Ragan-lan.”
Ragan sat up and stretched and then swung his legs over the side of the bed. Donovan’s eyes fell to his huge erection. Was that for him? The idea made his mouth go dry and his heart beat a little faster. Ragan pulled out his communicator and spoke softly into it in Tygerian. He turned back around and made himself comfortable by leaning back against pillows stacked against the headboard. Then he beckoned with one finger to Donovan. “Come here, nobyo.”
“Okay, uh…Ragan-lan.” Maybe if I obey quickly, he’ll go easier on me. Shaking all over, hating himself for his fear, he crawled across the bed to Ragan, who grabbed him under the arms and hauled him over to him. Then Ragan put him firmly over his lap facedown. Donovan’s naked cock rubbed against Ragan’s. He squirmed uncomfortably.
A spanking, of course. Humiliating and painful. He had no doubt that six swats from Ragan’s powerful hands would be enough to permanently cripple him, unless he pulled his punches. A lot.
Ragan ran his hand slowly, sensuously down Donovan’s back and over the cleft of his ass. “Are you ready, little one?”
“I doubt it, Ragan-lan.” He hated how his voice cracked, but he was powerless to stop it.
“Be still. I don’t want to hurt you. Try to relax, sweet one.”
Relax? Was he kidding?
Ragan stroked his ass for what seemed like a very long time. Donovan couldn’t help wondering if this was some kind of new torture he’d thought up for him. His fingers slipped into the crevice between his cheeks and found his entrance. Slowly, he circled it with his fingers, causing Donovan to groan and squirm.
“You have a beautiful backside, little human, plump and white. This little hole is beautiful, too, so pink and tight. It pleases me that it’s tight, nobyo. I would have you the first time all for myself.” He slowly massaged the rim as Donovan grew harder. He knew Ragan could feel his rock-hard cock against his groin. It had to be as uncomfortable for him as it was for Donovan.
“Have you ever had a spanking, Donovan?”
“No, Ragan-lan,” Donovan gritted between his teeth. “Not since I was a child.” Considering his rather vulnerable position, he fought to keep the sarcasm from his voice. Why did the question in that low sexy voice of Ragan’s arouse him so much? He moved around a bit, trying to get more comfortable. He was lying across Ragan’s lap on the bed, and the position wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, just embarrassing. If only his stupid cock wouldn’t get so hard. Did some perverse part of him like this? What was the matter with him?
“Do you think you’ll like it?” Ragan’s comment was so much like his thoughts he jerked in surprise, wondering if he’d spoken aloud for a moment.
“I–I don’t want to be hurt, Ragan-lan.”
A little slap came down on his butt cheeks and Donovan flinched. It hadn’t hurt, not really, only startled him. “That was one, darling.” With one hand Ragan massaged the place his slap had landed, while the other hand slid back to stroke his rim. Ragan opened his thighs slightly to give Donovan’s cock more room. “Did it hurt you?”
“No, Ragan-lan,” he said hoarsely.
“Do you think you could ever climax just from a spanking alone, Donovan?”
Donovan groaned aloud and let his head drop to the mattress beneath him. “No, Ragan-lan. Please.”
“Please what? Please do it again?”
Another light slap fell on his cheeks. “Two, baby.” The light caresses to his ass were going straight to his cock, making the shaft harden even more and press against Ragan’s bare leg. Donovan took a deep, shuddering breath.
Without any warning, all the air he’d managed to drag into his chest came out with a surprised yelp. Ragan’s hand had come down sharply on his ass, and pain shot through him. He half turned in Ragan’s lap and looked up over his shoulder into Ragan’s eyes, finding him concentrating deeply on every expression flitting over Donovan’s face. Right away, his hand began to massage the abused flesh, first rubbing and then lightly stroking his skin.
“That was three, Donovan.” He made no move to pull Donovan back into position. Donovan had the feeling that if he wanted to get up, Ragan wouldn’t stop him. His eyes were glowing at him warmly and Donovan wasn’t the only one with a huge erection. Donovan moved a little, adjusting himself so his aching cock could rub against Ragan’s thighs. It felt so wonderful, he almost closed his eyes and moaned in relief. Suddenly, this spanking morphed into something else entirely. This was a love game they were playing, and Donovan knew it. He suddenly knew with clarity that if he decided to get up and end this, Ragan wouldn’t say a word. The choice was his.
He made his decision and settled himself back on Ragan’s lap, squirming his ass a little more than was absolutely necessary to see Ragan’s reaction. Ragan closed his eyes and drew in his breath sharply. Donovan lay his head back down, beginning to enjoy his spanking, if for no other reason than to torture Ragan. Donovan rocked his body against Ragan’s legs, almost dry-humping him.
Another quick slap was his reward as Ragan choked out the word, “Four.” Donovan felt the heat from the slap building all the way through him, and his head reeled with so many emotions he couldn’t catch hold of any one. He rocked his hips harder, and Ragan’s hand came back to caress and massage his rim. Ragan reached beneath his body and his thumb swiped across the slit on the head of Donovan’s cock. He spread the drops of pre-cum gently over his hole, sliding in one fingertip.
Donovan jerked his head back as another slap landed. “Five.” Ragan’s hand caressed the skin on his ass and moved back to give his attention to Donovan’s entrance. Donovan found he was raising his ass higher in the air, craving more, then slamming back down to get relief for his throbbing cock. Ragan stuck in another fingertip and pushed it in and out slowly while Donovan made whimpers of pleasure he’d never heard himself make before. “Six,” and as the slap landed, Ragan pushed his finger deeper inside and touched a spot that made Donovan scream and buck his hips as cum shot from his cock and spurted between Ragan’s legs. As the fireworks exploded inside his head, he collapsed forward onto Ragan’s lap, feeling boneless and incapable of forming a complete thought.
Ragan pulled him up to lie beside him as they both tried to get their breathing under control.
Next Installment is coming in March
Ragan had a hard time going to sleep. Donovan’s sweet body felt so good in his arms, and his cock ached and burned with wanting him. He knew exactly when Donovan dropped that rigid control and allowed his body to relax. He’d sagged a little, like a tired child, and allowed Ragan to draw him closer to his body. Making him go naked had only added to Ragan’s misery and didn’t seem to bother Donovan in the least. Ragan sighed and rolled to his back, staring at the ceiling.
He vividly remembered the first time he’d seen Donovan on the closed-circuit cameras in the arena holding rooms. The sponsors of the Games decided to put cameras inside the holding areas with a continuous feed, both as a way to further degrade the Alliance prisoners and as a way to build interest in the coming gladiator contest.
Ragan had been struck almost immediately by Donovan. Not only was he the most beautiful captive to Ragan’s eyes, but he was also the bravest and most defiant. He didn’t necessarily bait the guards but was always ready for them when they prodded them with sticks through the bars or jeered at them like animals in their cages. Even in defeat, he was magnificent.
Right away he made plans to personally fight him in the arena and save his life. At the time he thought only to reward such audacity, but when he actually saw him the night of the contest, he knew he had to have him for his own.
Those exotic blue eyes had measured him carefully when he stood across from him, but he’d saved his energy and didn’t respond to Ragan’s feints and subterfuges, simply looking on while Ragan played to the crowd. When Ragan finally attacked with his mace, he tried to telegraph his intentions clearly and was proud of Donovan when he easily outmaneuvered the attempt. Still, Ragan was afraid he might hurt himself by doing something rash, so he’d whispered to him to pretend he was hurt. The hoax had paid off, and he’d been able to get him out of the killing arena still in one piece.
It was the next Game, however, that Ragan worried about the most. Traditionally, this next deadly game killed fifty to seventy percent of its participants. Somehow, he had to prepare Donovan to be one of the survivors, so he could stay with him forever. The alternative was quickly becoming unthinkable. Even though he’d known him only a short time, he couldn’t bear the image of his body still and cold in death.
Donovan would face Ragan again as his opponent in the next Game, but this time the conflict would be deadlier, and the game would be out of Ragan’s conscious control. His beast would take him over, and his beast would try very hard to kill Donovan.
The only question was, how he could get Donovan to survive despite the odds? He was so defiant and unyielding, making no secret of his dislike for Ragan and all the Tygerians. If he could gain his trust, and yes, his obedience, he might be able to gain his love as well. Donovan’s complete faith in Ragan and his love for him were the only ways to help Donovan defeat the beast.
The beast who would face Donovan wouldn’t recognize him or have any desire other than to spill his blood unless a mating bond had been formed. A mating bond would defy the change and render the beast incapable of harming Donovan. In order for a mating bond to form, however, Donovan must completely accept him as his master. Donovan must totally give him his trust and his faith and his love. Otherwise, the beast would sense it and destroy him.
The problem was, the more he pushed him, the more defiant and resistant he was becoming. He’d looked at Ragan with something like hatred earlier, and it was a knife twisting in his heart. Sometimes he saw a look in Donovan’s eyes that made him think he was close to giving up. He couldn’t allow that to happen. He had to reawaken that fighting spirit in Donovan he’d fallen so much in love with.
The secret, Ragan believed, lay in gaining Donovan’s love. If he could make Donovan return his love and give him a reason to survive, a mating bond might be possible, even in the short time they had.
Donovan puzzled him a little. On one hand, he seemed to dislike Ragan, but on the other, Ragan was sometimes surprised to see an admiring look in his eyes, just a flash of attraction before he carefully hooded his eyes again. Left to his own preferences, he thought Donovan, like most of the other humans, would have preferred the opposite sex. Yet he knew that on long space voyages when women weren’t available, men often used each other’s bodies. Jealously, he wondered if Donovan had taken one of the other prisoners as a lover. The idea made him so unreasonably furious he pushed it away.
Ragan himself had other lovers, but he’d never before even contemplated taking a nobyo. Nobyos were held in high esteem by his people, and it was important to take care in choosing one. Ragan had known Donovan would be perfect from the moment he saw him in the arena.
He’d promised him a punishment in the morning, but he had no idea what that might be. He didn’t want to hurt him in any way, or push him away even further, though he enjoyed teasing him and watching those little blushes stain his cheeks. Perhaps a spanking, though not to punish but to arouse him? The idea of spanking his perfect little ass certainly made Ragan aroused.
If he could do it, if he could get Donovan to a high state of arousal, it could possibly move their relationship along very quickly. The sooner he became his willing lover, the better.
He rolled back toward him and pulled him closer, kissing the back of his neck. Donovan sighed in his sleep and snuggled his ass into Ragan’s crotch. Ragan rolled his eyes and moaned. His nobyo might truly be the death of him. He would make him obey him and think of him as his lover, his master. The mating bond must be forged, and quickly, or else he could lose Donovan forever.
Donovan had slept badly. For one thing, Ragan had fondled him all night long, keeping him in a constant state of arousal. For another, about midway through the night, he began to worry about six repetitions of a punishment carried out by this massive giant lying next to him and wondered if he would even survive.
When Ragan awoke, he pulled Donovan’s head around to face him and looked deeply into his eyes. “We’ll have your punishment and get it out of the way, shall we?”
“I guess I have no choice.” As an afterthought he tacked on, “Ragan-lan.”
Ragan sat up and stretched and then swung his legs over the side of the bed. Donovan’s eyes fell to his huge erection. Was that for him? The idea made his mouth go dry and his heart beat a little faster. Ragan pulled out his communicator and spoke softly into it in Tygerian. He turned back around and made himself comfortable by leaning back against pillows stacked against the headboard. Then he beckoned with one finger to Donovan. “Come here, nobyo.”
“Okay, uh…Ragan-lan.” Maybe if I obey quickly, he’ll go easier on me. Shaking all over, hating himself for his fear, he crawled across the bed to Ragan, who grabbed him under the arms and hauled him over to him. Then Ragan put him firmly over his lap facedown. Donovan’s naked cock rubbed against Ragan’s. He squirmed uncomfortably.
A spanking, of course. Humiliating and painful. He had no doubt that six swats from Ragan’s powerful hands would be enough to permanently cripple him, unless he pulled his punches. A lot.
Ragan ran his hand slowly, sensuously down Donovan’s back and over the cleft of his ass. “Are you ready, little one?”
“I doubt it, Ragan-lan.” He hated how his voice cracked, but he was powerless to stop it.
“Be still. I don’t want to hurt you. Try to relax, sweet one.”
Relax? Was he kidding?
Ragan stroked his ass for what seemed like a very long time. Donovan couldn’t help wondering if this was some kind of new torture he’d thought up for him. His fingers slipped into the crevice between his cheeks and found his entrance. Slowly, he circled it with his fingers, causing Donovan to groan and squirm.
“You have a beautiful backside, little human, plump and white. This little hole is beautiful, too, so pink and tight. It pleases me that it’s tight, nobyo. I would have you the first time all for myself.” He slowly massaged the rim as Donovan grew harder. He knew Ragan could feel his rock-hard cock against his groin. It had to be as uncomfortable for him as it was for Donovan.
“Have you ever had a spanking, Donovan?”
“No, Ragan-lan,” Donovan gritted between his teeth. “Not since I was a child.” Considering his rather vulnerable position, he fought to keep the sarcasm from his voice. Why did the question in that low sexy voice of Ragan’s arouse him so much? He moved around a bit, trying to get more comfortable. He was lying across Ragan’s lap on the bed, and the position wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, just embarrassing. If only his stupid cock wouldn’t get so hard. Did some perverse part of him like this? What was the matter with him?
“Do you think you’ll like it?” Ragan’s comment was so much like his thoughts he jerked in surprise, wondering if he’d spoken aloud for a moment.
“I–I don’t want to be hurt, Ragan-lan.”
A little slap came down on his butt cheeks and Donovan flinched. It hadn’t hurt, not really, only startled him. “That was one, darling.” With one hand Ragan massaged the place his slap had landed, while the other hand slid back to stroke his rim. Ragan opened his thighs slightly to give Donovan’s cock more room. “Did it hurt you?”
“No, Ragan-lan,” he said hoarsely.
“Do you think you could ever climax just from a spanking alone, Donovan?”
Donovan groaned aloud and let his head drop to the mattress beneath him. “No, Ragan-lan. Please.”
“Please what? Please do it again?”
Another light slap fell on his cheeks. “Two, baby.” The light caresses to his ass were going straight to his cock, making the shaft harden even more and press against Ragan’s bare leg. Donovan took a deep, shuddering breath.
Without any warning, all the air he’d managed to drag into his chest came out with a surprised yelp. Ragan’s hand had come down sharply on his ass, and pain shot through him. He half turned in Ragan’s lap and looked up over his shoulder into Ragan’s eyes, finding him concentrating deeply on every expression flitting over Donovan’s face. Right away, his hand began to massage the abused flesh, first rubbing and then lightly stroking his skin.
“That was three, Donovan.” He made no move to pull Donovan back into position. Donovan had the feeling that if he wanted to get up, Ragan wouldn’t stop him. His eyes were glowing at him warmly and Donovan wasn’t the only one with a huge erection. Donovan moved a little, adjusting himself so his aching cock could rub against Ragan’s thighs. It felt so wonderful, he almost closed his eyes and moaned in relief. Suddenly, this spanking morphed into something else entirely. This was a love game they were playing, and Donovan knew it. He suddenly knew with clarity that if he decided to get up and end this, Ragan wouldn’t say a word. The choice was his.
He made his decision and settled himself back on Ragan’s lap, squirming his ass a little more than was absolutely necessary to see Ragan’s reaction. Ragan closed his eyes and drew in his breath sharply. Donovan lay his head back down, beginning to enjoy his spanking, if for no other reason than to torture Ragan. Donovan rocked his body against Ragan’s legs, almost dry-humping him.
Another quick slap was his reward as Ragan choked out the word, “Four.” Donovan felt the heat from the slap building all the way through him, and his head reeled with so many emotions he couldn’t catch hold of any one. He rocked his hips harder, and Ragan’s hand came back to caress and massage his rim. Ragan reached beneath his body and his thumb swiped across the slit on the head of Donovan’s cock. He spread the drops of pre-cum gently over his hole, sliding in one fingertip.
Donovan jerked his head back as another slap landed. “Five.” Ragan’s hand caressed the skin on his ass and moved back to give his attention to Donovan’s entrance. Donovan found he was raising his ass higher in the air, craving more, then slamming back down to get relief for his throbbing cock. Ragan stuck in another fingertip and pushed it in and out slowly while Donovan made whimpers of pleasure he’d never heard himself make before. “Six,” and as the slap landed, Ragan pushed his finger deeper inside and touched a spot that made Donovan scream and buck his hips as cum shot from his cock and spurted between Ragan’s legs. As the fireworks exploded inside his head, he collapsed forward onto Ragan’s lap, feeling boneless and incapable of forming a complete thought.
Ragan pulled him up to lie beside him as they both tried to get their breathing under control.
Next Installment is coming in March
Exclusive Excerpt from The Ice King's Consort
When we finally stopped for the night, it was growing dark, and I looked around myself nervously. It looked like just more of the endless white forest, only with much more whirling snow. It was bitterly cold, and the dark pine trees covered in snow stretched endlessly in every direction. The sky did hold the gleam of stars overhead though, and the river—the one we’d been riding beside most of the day—was frozen solid, shining black as glass.
The soldiers set up camp quickly, and before long, there were warm fires built to help keep the cold at bay, and temporary dwellings consisting of wooden racks or thin curved poles, covered with deer hides and furs. I shouldn’t have been amazed at how quickly they’d been built, though I was becoming so accustomed to their magic that this hardly even qualified as such. It seemed to me they only used their magic on practical things for themselves, like building fires and structures like these.
Before long, the soldiers were all casting dice and eating and drinking heavily. As some of the fires they built died down, they took coals from them and buried them under a thick layer of dirt they dug from the frozen ground with sticks on top of that dirt. Then they placed their thick furs on top of these buried coals and the beds they made were surprisingly warm.
Afterward, we ate our evening meal. Juul brought it to me with his own hands and sat down beside me to eat. Again, the meal consisted of cold meats and cheeses, along with many bottles of the blood red wine the Quendi seemed to favor. After we’d eaten, the king stood up and looked out toward the frozen river, rubbing his hands together. “Juul,” he called over to him. “It’s a beautiful night for ice skating. The moonlight makes it almost as bright as day.”
“That it does,” Juul replied. “Pavel, would you like to go skating with us?”
I knew about ice skating, of course, but I’d never had the time for anything like that, even as a boy. I’d seen the children of our village out on the frozen lakes and ponds, with the metal runners tied to their shoes. It looked like fun, but I knew it was much more difficult than the skaters made it look.
“I would, but unfortunately I don’t have any skates with me.”
“Not a problem,” Tarrak said, laughing. “Because we’re not using any. We’re just going to slide across the surface.
”Juul laughed at the expression on my face, and I was so charmed to see the rare sight, even if he was laughing at me, that I smiled at him and let him pull me into his arms. He was so seldom amused or happy about anything. Tarrak had told me it was just his way, but I used every chance I could to make him smile because it lit him up from inside. There was a great deal of laughter and shouting as many of the soldiers came with us to the river to slide across its slick surface. I knew the Elves had proper skates with metal runners to cut the ice, but I supposed they obviously wouldn’t take them along on a trip like this one, where they might be expected to do battle. Instead, they eagerly slid and glided on just their boots or even their backsides across the smooth, frozen expanse of the river and seemed to be having a wonderful time judging by all their laughter and loud shouting.
Juul assured me over and over of the ice’s thickness and the impossibility of falling through. I was glad of the moon going behind a cloud though, because I’d looked down at my feet and had seen the black water moving silently and sluggishly underneath the thick ice. Or at least I fancied I did, and with my imagination, that was just as bad. I clutched Juul’s arm even tighter and held onto him for dear life. I wasn’t nearly as graceful as the Elves.
After a while, when nothing happened and no one fell through, Juul coaxed me into easing up on his arm and simply holding his hand. I grew more confident because it really was fun, and Juul went nice and slow for me so I wouldn’t fall. Then the king came gliding over, stopped in front of us with a flourish, and held out his arms to Juul.
“Let’s dance, Juul!” he shouted, and laughing, he grabbed Juul and spun him away from me into a wild dance on the ice. Their faces were fierce as they laughed out loud, yet beautiful in that uncertain light. I made my way back over to the shore and stood watching them twirl and slide with abandon. It looked a bit more like they were in some athletic competition than dancing, but they were both so beautiful it was something to see. I pulled out my pipes to play a little polka for them, and they looked over at me and laughed even harder, redoubling their efforts. A few of the other soldiers joined in dancing together on the ice or watching and clapping their hands from the shore in time to the music.
Soon there were perhaps ten couples out on the ice. Around and around the dancers spun, their long coats flying around their legs and fanning out behind them. To and fro, up and down the frozen river they went, and I’d never seen anything like it. They were all so beautiful with the moonlight shining down on them, and I put back my head and looked up at the stars, shining like diamonds in the sky above us and glistening on the surface of the river below. I knew this was a moment I’d remember all my life. My song ended, and they stopped dancing, holding their sides, out of breath from their exertions. Juul took a running slide toward me and swept me into his arms to pick me up and twirl me around. We fell down laughing in the snow, and he kissed me until we were both beyond breathless.
Runaway Omega
As I lay there shivering under my cheap blanket and feeling, as stated, plenty damn sorry for myself, I realized how pathetic I was and I hated it. I made a vow that as soon as I had this baby, my life would be different—better. I was going to pull myself together and make a new life for myself. I wasn't going to live like this, or at least not for much longer.
I slept late the next morning, burrowing under the thin blankets, because it was raining outside and so damn cold in that little apartment I could see my own breath. I didn’t have much to get up for anyway. Hunger finally drove me out of bed when I remembered that Tuesday was free lunch day at the Methodist Church three blocks down the street. Sometimes, if I was lucky, they gave out seconds, if there weren’t too many people in line, and they usually had fresh fruit I could pocket to eat later that day. Even though I had no plans to keep this baby, I wanted to give it the best start in life that I could.
I quickly washed up in the stained sink and wet down my hair, trying to tame the curls. I had used up all the expensive products I used to depend on, and I couldn’t afford to buy more. None of my clothes really fit me anymore, either, so just last week, when I couldn't stretch my clothes around my stomach any longer, I had used up the last of my meager savings on thrift store sweatpants to fit around my fat waist. I put those on, along with my puffy jacket and ball cap, and looked sadly at my good leather boots. They didn’t exactly go with the outfit, and it was raining outside, and besides they were all I had left now of my life B.P. or Before Pregnancy, especially since the police had confiscated my Glock. My feet were swollen anyway, so I put on some old tennis shoes instead and went out into the drizzling rain.
I was walking, keeping my head down so the icy rain wouldn't hit me in the face, when a big, black SUV drove past me. It suddenly slammed on the brakes, backed up, and pulled in quickly at the curb. The driver’s door flew open and Logan Grady erupted from the car.
I stopped dead still in complete shock and just looked at him as he barreled toward me like a freight train. I panicked and took a quick couple of steps backward. He yelled at me, pointing his finger. His face even partially transformed a little, and I saw his canines lengthen as he snarled at me.
“Stop, you son-of-a-bitch. Don’t you fucking dare run from me!”
I stopped. When your alpha roared like that and showed you his teeth, you damn well better stop if you had any sense of self-preservation. He stormed up to me, taking a handful of my puffy jacket and shouting down in my face. “Where the fuck have you been?”
“Well, I…”
“Shut up! I’m so mad at you right now, I want to beat your ass, so give me a few seconds to calm down, so I won't hurt you.”
That sounded like an excellent idea to me. “O-okay.”
Not two seconds later, he shook me ‘til my teeth rattled. “I thought you were dead! You just cleared out your room and disappeared! Just packed your damn bags and left without a word! What kind of person does that? What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you have any idea how many people have been looking for you? How scared your dad has been? How scared I’ve been? We thought you must be dead! Well, answer me, damn it!”
“Well, I…”
“Shut up! There's nothing you can say that I want to hear!"
"Okay, but you just said..."
"Shut up and get in the goddamn truck.”
“Logan, I have to…”
“Either you get in that fucking truck or I’ll put you in it!”
I got in the fucking truck. He stomped along every step of the way behind me, herding me with his big body and keeping his hand clamped on the back of my neck. He gave me a little shove at the door to make sure I climbed in, then went around to the driver’s side. The heat was blasting inside the truck, and it was so warm and the moment so unreal I thought I might pass out for a second. He turned to face me and the burning look he gave me snapped me right out of it.
“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?” he asked, his voice loud and filling up the truck, his face an alarming shade of red.
I shook my head helplessly and looked down at my lap. What could I tell him? That I ran because the person I thought I was didn’t exist and never had? I ran because I couldn’t face him and all the others and what they’d inevitably think about me now? Because it turns out that I’m an omega and I’m pregnant and I’m terrified, and oh, yeah, by the way, the baby is yours.
Uh, no. Just no. If he was already feeling like he wanted to kill me, that would seriously push him over the edge.
“Are you crazy, Kade? Is that it? Did you suddenly go batshit crazy and forget to tell me? Who does something like that anyway? Who just picks up and runs away from their home, their pack, their fucking life and never looks back? Didn’t you think we’d be worried about you—wonder what the fuck happened to you? How could you do that to me? To your father?”
“I’m sorry!” I cried out, burying my face in my hands. Shit, I never used to be so emotional. Was this from pregnancy hormones? I was scared to death that I was about to burst into tears. “But I couldn’t tell you! If you knew—if you or my dad or anybody else knew what happened and why I left, you’d just have hated me, and I couldn’t take that. You’d never have understood! Don’t you see? I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t face everybody! I couldn’t face you!”
I slept late the next morning, burrowing under the thin blankets, because it was raining outside and so damn cold in that little apartment I could see my own breath. I didn’t have much to get up for anyway. Hunger finally drove me out of bed when I remembered that Tuesday was free lunch day at the Methodist Church three blocks down the street. Sometimes, if I was lucky, they gave out seconds, if there weren’t too many people in line, and they usually had fresh fruit I could pocket to eat later that day. Even though I had no plans to keep this baby, I wanted to give it the best start in life that I could.
I quickly washed up in the stained sink and wet down my hair, trying to tame the curls. I had used up all the expensive products I used to depend on, and I couldn’t afford to buy more. None of my clothes really fit me anymore, either, so just last week, when I couldn't stretch my clothes around my stomach any longer, I had used up the last of my meager savings on thrift store sweatpants to fit around my fat waist. I put those on, along with my puffy jacket and ball cap, and looked sadly at my good leather boots. They didn’t exactly go with the outfit, and it was raining outside, and besides they were all I had left now of my life B.P. or Before Pregnancy, especially since the police had confiscated my Glock. My feet were swollen anyway, so I put on some old tennis shoes instead and went out into the drizzling rain.
I was walking, keeping my head down so the icy rain wouldn't hit me in the face, when a big, black SUV drove past me. It suddenly slammed on the brakes, backed up, and pulled in quickly at the curb. The driver’s door flew open and Logan Grady erupted from the car.
I stopped dead still in complete shock and just looked at him as he barreled toward me like a freight train. I panicked and took a quick couple of steps backward. He yelled at me, pointing his finger. His face even partially transformed a little, and I saw his canines lengthen as he snarled at me.
“Stop, you son-of-a-bitch. Don’t you fucking dare run from me!”
I stopped. When your alpha roared like that and showed you his teeth, you damn well better stop if you had any sense of self-preservation. He stormed up to me, taking a handful of my puffy jacket and shouting down in my face. “Where the fuck have you been?”
“Well, I…”
“Shut up! I’m so mad at you right now, I want to beat your ass, so give me a few seconds to calm down, so I won't hurt you.”
That sounded like an excellent idea to me. “O-okay.”
Not two seconds later, he shook me ‘til my teeth rattled. “I thought you were dead! You just cleared out your room and disappeared! Just packed your damn bags and left without a word! What kind of person does that? What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you have any idea how many people have been looking for you? How scared your dad has been? How scared I’ve been? We thought you must be dead! Well, answer me, damn it!”
“Well, I…”
“Shut up! There's nothing you can say that I want to hear!"
"Okay, but you just said..."
"Shut up and get in the goddamn truck.”
“Logan, I have to…”
“Either you get in that fucking truck or I’ll put you in it!”
I got in the fucking truck. He stomped along every step of the way behind me, herding me with his big body and keeping his hand clamped on the back of my neck. He gave me a little shove at the door to make sure I climbed in, then went around to the driver’s side. The heat was blasting inside the truck, and it was so warm and the moment so unreal I thought I might pass out for a second. He turned to face me and the burning look he gave me snapped me right out of it.
“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?” he asked, his voice loud and filling up the truck, his face an alarming shade of red.
I shook my head helplessly and looked down at my lap. What could I tell him? That I ran because the person I thought I was didn’t exist and never had? I ran because I couldn’t face him and all the others and what they’d inevitably think about me now? Because it turns out that I’m an omega and I’m pregnant and I’m terrified, and oh, yeah, by the way, the baby is yours.
Uh, no. Just no. If he was already feeling like he wanted to kill me, that would seriously push him over the edge.
“Are you crazy, Kade? Is that it? Did you suddenly go batshit crazy and forget to tell me? Who does something like that anyway? Who just picks up and runs away from their home, their pack, their fucking life and never looks back? Didn’t you think we’d be worried about you—wonder what the fuck happened to you? How could you do that to me? To your father?”
“I’m sorry!” I cried out, burying my face in my hands. Shit, I never used to be so emotional. Was this from pregnancy hormones? I was scared to death that I was about to burst into tears. “But I couldn’t tell you! If you knew—if you or my dad or anybody else knew what happened and why I left, you’d just have hated me, and I couldn’t take that. You’d never have understood! Don’t you see? I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t face everybody! I couldn’t face you!”
Dragon's lair--Dragon Prophecies 3
“A little magic can take you a long way”
Chase
I had always known Dragons existed, of course. Everyone knew that. Those old maps that had "HC SVNT DRACONES,” or “Here be dragons,” printed at the edges of their known world hadn’t been kidding. In those early maps, you might also see images of sea monsters or stylized pictures of Dragons. I guess it was a way for those old map makers to say, “Be careful. There's bad stuff out there."
I had also heard that pure-blooded Dragons were touchy and easily offended, and that they were a surly bunch who were evil-tempered. As a general rule, they didn’t care much for humans, though they certainly liked them well enough for sex. They jealously guarded their treasures, being greedy and covetous creatures, obsessed with increasing their hoards. If you haven’t figured it out yet, Dragons were dangerous and bad to know. They were driven by their love of treasure, were motivated by it, spent their time guarding it and would literally kill to increase it.
Very much like my own father, actually, who was not a Dragon and therefore, had no excuse for his love of money and the crimes it caused him to commit.
The fact that I knew the Solokov Dragons in particular existed was due to my father’s transgressions and mine for allowing myself to be sucked into them. But I’m getting ahead of myself, and my knowledge, or the lack thereof, about Dragons is really not a part of the story. How I came to help save the world is the real story here, and it—like my relationship with the gorgeous Dragon, Alexei Solokov—was, as they say, complicated.