Awaken (10 page)

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Slayer:

Cahill hung from the tree, like Brea had taught him, trying to regulate his breathing, but finding it difficult with a glob of dragon shit sliding down his left cheek. This was soon forgotten, however, when the thundering hooves of an approaching horse alerted him to action. It was Brea riding Elrond hard, heading straight for him with a fire-breather right on her tail.

“Attack from above,”
Brea had said.
“Dragons never look up.”

Brea flew by, then Cahill let go of the branch, landing squarely straddling the beast’s neck. With one swift movement, he pulled his sword, lifted it high and drove it to the hilt through the black slit in the dragon’s yellow eye.

“Think of it as a bulls-eye,”
Brea had instructed.

Sure enough, death came instantly. The dragon’s wings stretched taut in its final convulsion and the stinking body glided gently to the ground where Cahill was able to easily slide off. He jogged to join Brea and Elrond a safe distance away before the body went up in flames. “I can’t believe it!” he crowed. “It’s so easy.”

Brea narrowed her eyes and scoffed, “Easy?”

“I mean efficient,” Cahill said and grinned. “There’s no hacking at a writhing neck covered in almost impenetrable scales. No fire, no mess.” He raised his hand to Brea to pull her down from the horse and she accepted the help without hesitation. “We make quite a team.”

She nodded, but her face was turned to the surrounding countryside where only blackened patches on the ground indicated the number of dragons that died that day. “That’s it,” Brea sighed. “We did it. We killed them all.”

In a voice filled with wonder and dread, Cahill said, “Maybe not all. What the hell is that?”

Brea followed his outstretched arm and finger and then muttered, “Fuck a duck.”

Cahill swung his head to look at her in surprise, then turned his attention back to the monster that glided overhead.

“That, my prince, is the beast that gave me this.” Cahill glanced back at Brea and to where she was pointing down at her leggings which were stained where her old wound had reopened and oozed blood.

“You fought that thing?” he said with admiration.

Brea nodded grimly. “As you can see, it won.”

Slowly Cahill shook his head back and forth. “You’re still here,” he said. “I call that a draw.”

The enormous dragon circled high overhead, squawking shrilly so that both Cahill and Brea had to cover their ears. Then it swooped, flying low over the land, its head swaying back and forth as if looking for something, or someone. Finally the dragon rose and flew off, out of sight.

“We’ll save that one for another day,” Cahill said as he reached for her hand and squeezed it.

Brea settled back against the copper tub, her knees drawn to her chest, reveling in the soothing warmth of the water. She’d washed first in a nearby stream, but only lye soap would get the dragon smell out of her hair. As for her clothes, the cook had confiscated them in order to boil them in vinegar in hopes of removing the stink. After another dunk of her head beneath the water, Brea rose, dripping, and used a blanket to dry herself. Cahill had given her one of his spare shirts to wear and Brea laughed at herself as she cinched the garment around her waist with a strip of leather. It was long enough to be a dress. Not a proper dress, but a nightdress at least, and that’s all she needed it for. Her clothes would be dry enough by morning when the company rode out.

Peeking out through the tent flap, Brea called to Cahill’s valet to remove the washtub and bring in some food. She tucked a fur around her shoulders for decency’s sake, then Brea sat at the table and waited for the food and Cahill to arrive. He came in moments later, smelling clean and masculine. Brea kept her lashes lowered as a sudden shyness descended over her.

They ate in relative silence, making mundane remarks about the flavor of this dish and that. Finally Cahill cleared his throat and said, “I cannot go on like this. I must make my intentions known.”

Slowly Brea looked up from her food. The firelight flickered in Cahill’s dark eyes, making him appear more sinister than regal.

“Breanna, I beg you. No, I beseech you to consent to be my wife.”

Though Brea knew it was coming, had known his intentions all along, her answer became lodged in her throat. She licked her suddenly dry lips and said, “I’m sorry, Cahill. I can’t.”

He didn’t move for a long time. Finally he spoke. “Why?”

All her old resentments, her old prejudices about marriage reared their ugly heads in her mind. “I know how these things work. The minute I marry you, I belong to you. I give up everything.”

“What do you give up?” Cahill argued. “Marry me and you gain a title and a kingdom.”

“Both of which I already have,” Brea countered.

“Bah!” Cahill fumed. “You have nothing.”

“Nothing?” Brea rose in anger. “I have everything I need, Prince.” She limped purposefully around to the other side of the table, using the fact that he was still seated to her advantage. “I don’t need your land, I don’t need your title.” With each item she listed, she poked him in the shoulder. “I don’t need a stinking husband to making demands of me once he thinks he owns me.”

“What do you mean, make demands?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m not one of your sheltered young princesses who has no idea of the filthy rutting tendencies of men. I know what goes on behind closed doors.”

Cahill’s expression changed. First understanding, then shock, and then anger. “You’re not a virgin,” he said in a low voice. “Someone abused you.”

Brea laughed. “No, I’m a virgin.” She pulled her dagger out from her leather belt and twisted it between her hands. “I wouldn’t let a stinking, breeding male near enough to abuse me.”

Cahill frowned. “Then what do you know of things that take place ‘behind closed doors’?”

“You may find this shocking, Your Highness, but commoners rut regardless of whether doors are open or closed. In fact doors have very little to do with it. Stables, tavern floors, up against walls.” Brea shivered with revulsion. “Beastly copulations. No thank you.”

“Ah,” Cahill said. “A tavern education.” He stood, and Brea found herself no longer at an advantage. “I’m afraid, Princess, your education may be lacking. What you have witnessed is only a very limited version of the act in question.”

“I’d wager I know more than enough.”

“A wager.” The prince smiled as he lifted her chin with his thumb, forcing her to look at him. “Now that’s a wager I’d be willing to take.”

Brea scowled, but Cahill tightened his grip on her chin, holding her in place. “What if I was to convince you otherwise, Princess? What if I was to prove there was more to this carnal act than you are aware and what if I was to wager that by the end of it, you will be begging me to take you to our marriage bed?”

Still holding her dagger, Brea pressed the tip into the juncture of his rib cage. With satisfaction she watched his eyes widen at the sharp pain of it. “I will make no such wager.”

Cahill released her face and stepped back, out of the reach of her dagger’s lethal point. “Because you know you’ll lose.”

“Ha!”

“Remind me, Brea, who was tugging at the draw to my breeches the other day. I might be mistaken, but I’m almost certain it was you.”

“You swine!”

“Yes. A talking swine, at that. Come on, Brea. Stop fighting it.” His hand moved so swiftly she wasn’t able to get away in time. He grasped her wrist and squeezed until she dropped the dagger. Then he pulled Brea to the bed of furs and pushed her down. “Tell me you don’t want me.”

“I don’t want you,” she snapped. And she didn’t. Not logically. But apparently her hands did because they wound around Cahill’s neck and pulled him down onto the furs beside her.

One act of kindness cements a destiny she couldn’t fathom.

Wolf

© 2010 Cara Carnes

An
Enchanted
Story

As a child, the Lost Woods were Hannah’s passion. A place where she dreamed of mysterious creatures, including one she saved—a man who magically changed into a wolf. Now, twelve years later, the woods are her refuge from a horde of marauders who killed her mother.

This time, it is the wolf who saves her. And he is no dream.

Stephan can’t help but remember the time Hannah encouraged him to free his injured leg and continue the soul journey required of his kind. The child unwittingly bound herself to him, and now the woman tempts him like no other. Yet if she learns his secret, her fragile trust could be broken for all time.

Hannah doesn’t see how she can possibly fit into Stephan’s world—especially when their overwhelming passion reveals the one reason she should not trust him. Stephan has fought more than his share of battles, but the one for Hannah’s heart is the one that could break his own…

Warning: Kickass, shape-shifting alphas will leave you breathlessly begging for Lost Woods. Be careful…they may know what you think!

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Wolf:

Stephan.

My pulse quickened and I fiddled with the hem of my borrowed dress. I gawked at his powerful body as he greeted Nalla. His eyes danced with adoration when around her, and I wished I could see the same glimmer in his eyes when he thought of me.

The same type of clinging leather pants molded against his powerful thighs. Muscle rippled across his stomach, partially visible through the open wood-colored vest. His chest was unmarred by hair. My fingers longed to trace the contours of his smooth skin.

Heat spread through me to center at my nether regions. I squeezed my thighs together and looked down because I was afraid my cheeks were stained with shame. My attraction to him had grown, and my body refused to behave.

His long legs brought him to me faster than I was prepared for. I stood, my legs wobbling as my breathing accelerated. His hands grasped my arms, steadying me with a strength that made me shiver. Not even the mightiest of my village’s fighters were so honed and muscular. I’d seen enough of his people to know none of the men in his pride were like the men I was accustomed to.

“Thanks.”

Thanks. Not only was it a naïve and foolish thing to say, but it came out with a meekness that made my mind scream at my blathering tongue. I’d thought of clever retorts and envisioned conversations with him about many things for the past few nights. I’d even fantasized about him.

And all I had to say when he stood before me was “thanks”. A flicker of darkness appeared and disappeared in his golden eyes.

Nalla shuffled a chair. The dragging sound across the bare floor of the eating area pulled me from my lustful thoughts. I focused my attention to where his fingers touched my skin. Tingles danced there and spread through me like molten fire. Heat rushed to my core. My pussy moistened. My nipples hardened.

I fought the urge to tug on my dress or look down to see if it was apparent. I refused to sever my contact with him.

“She’s been asking about you.” Nalla’s voice quashed the connection I’d felt. I stepped back enough to allow my heartbeat to slow, but his assessing gaze remained on me, and I was lost in the tumbling waves of desire his presence had incited.

“Really?” His voice, filled with curiosity, made me smile. “I’ve been catching up on pride issues. Some of it is quite tedious. I’m sure your company would have broken up the monotony.”

“She has a restless spirit, much like you.” Nalla chuckled. “Were she one of us, she’d be prowling in animal form.”

Stephan grinned. I couldn’t understand their amusement, but I knew she had no ill regard for me. She sat at the table and regarded us.

“Is her leg healing well?” he asked.

I hadn’t realized how injured my leg was until Nalla had begun treating it. “Those poultices of hers don’t burn anymore. Surely that’s a good sign.”

Nalla laughed. The rich tones of her wise voice soothed me. I hadn’t realized I missed my gran until that moment. They were too alike for me not to be drawn to her.

“She’s been asking about your talisman and wanted to walk the village. Perhaps you can appease her.”

“Sure.” His voice was low. “I’ll gladly tell her why she has our talisman and what it represents.”

“Your father wouldn’t approve.”

“Then it’s a good thing I stopped heeding his advice long ago. If anyone has need of me, send Fallon for me.”

Fallon. “He’s your brother, right?”

“I see you’ve been learning of my family. I trust Nalla’s delighted in telling you many stories of my foolish youth.”

I wished that was the case. The woman had offered nothing.

“I will, now that I see you approve.”

Stephan chuckled and touched my arm. The contact made my skin tingle. “Let us go before she starts now.”

His arm rested on my back just above my waist. Cool air whipped through my hair when we exited the home I’d been locked away in. Unable to contain my glee, I paused and took a deep breath.

“I should’ve come sooner, but Nalla kept telling me you needed to heal.”

“She’s very protective.”

“It’s in her blood. Women in my clan have been healers for many generations.” His hand fell away from me when we began to walk through his village.

Everyone halted their activities as we passed. I found their scrutiny disconcerting. The first few moved to their knees as if about to undertake a chore I didn’t understand. All the homes we passed resembled one another. Most displayed a talisman on the entry.

I tried to study them without being obvious, but decided it best not to when Stephan drew me closer to him.

“Your people don’t like me.”

“They’re unaccustomed to strangers. There’s a difference.” The sincerity calmed my nervousness even though I doubted it was the truth for everyone.

“I’ve heard some of them yelling at Nalla.” I winced when his jaw twitched. “She tries to hide it, but I hear them. They want me gone.”

“She should have told me this. I would’ve dealt with their meddling myself.”

I shook my head. “They have a right to be upset. I’m doing nothing to earn my keep and am not of your pride.”