The Seven Year Witch: That Old Black Magic, Book 2 (30 page)

I took a deep, shaking breath. “Me too.” I was beginning to feel tired, and I knew it wasn’t just from the fight. Sunrise couldn’t be too far off and I would need to sleep soon, but I still had so many questions. “Is this normal?”

“We always knew it was possible. It’s rare for kings to be soul-bonded to their seconds, but when it does happen it creates a powerful structure for leadership. We can read each other very well. But, with that, we knew the connection could either negate the possibility of Lucas being soul-bonded to a future queen, or it would mean that I might be connected to her as well. There isn’t a science to soul-bonds. We honestly didn’t know what would happen.”

“So what is this, then?” I gestured from myself to him. “We’re some sort of weird soul threesome? I mean, to be honest, I wasn’t totally willing to accept that I was
destined
to be with Lucas, and now you’re telling me I’m destined to be with both of you? Is that how this works?” Anger tainted the words, but I couldn’t help it.

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“All I know is since meeting you I can’t stop thinking about you. And my best friend, my king, believes you’re meant to be his queen. Normally you’d be with the one you felt bonded to. But you admitted you can taste us both, which means neither bond is stronger.”

“Why didn’t I taste you before tonight?”

“We wondered about that yesterday. We figured you were only connected to him, so we didn’t question it. My best guess is because he’s king, his influence over you was stronger. You’d never experienced the soul-bond before, so the first taste you got was from the most alpha wolf among us. It wasn’t until you’d been away from him longer than a few minutes you were able to connect with me.”

Sounded like a lot of guessing and not a lot of real answers.

“Did you know?”

“What?”

“Could you sense me yesterday?”

He was silent, his gaze looking at the wall next to my head. “Yes.”

This frustrated me more. They both knew about what was happening, but had chosen to leave me out of the loop, making me feel stupid and unprepared. I stood and turned my irritation on him.

“I haven’t
dated
in two years, and suddenly I’m
meant to be
with not one but two werewolves I’ve only known for a couple of days.” I threw my hands up in the air in frustration. “If I hadn’t tasted you both, if it didn’t feel like electricity went through me when either of you touch me, I’d think this whole thing was
bullshit
.” I put a lot of emphasis on the last word and directed it right at him, then dropped myself into the armchair.

“I didn’t want to believe it either.”

I sighed with a little more drama than necessary. “I fail to see how this is a negative for
you
,” I snapped, then immediately regretted it.

Desmond snatched his bloody shirt off the floor and threw it at me none too gently. “Do you know whose blood is on that shirt?” I wasn’t sure if he wanted a reply or not, so I smelled it. My heart sank.

“Mine.” His was on it as well, but I knew that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. I let the shirt drop back to the floor.

“Yeah, yours.” He stood, picking it up and tossing it back across the room. With him this close to me, his anger rising, all the hairs on my arms prickled and a peculiar tingling danced across my skin.

“Desmond…” I remembered what happened the last time I had this feeling in such close proximity to someone I was soul-bonded to.

“I thought you were going to die. When that wolf got her nails into you and you went limp…”

So it had been a she-wolf who had attacked me.

“I was playing dead.” I had to stifle a nervous laugh when I heard the words out loud. Desmond wasn’t smiling at all, his hands shaking, and in one fast motion he grabbed me by the shoulders and yanked me out of the chair with such force my head spun.

“You asked me what the negative is for me? When you went limp, I saw every chance I had for happiness die with you. I could stand ten feet away from you for the rest of my life and nothing, not sex or money or power, could match how that feels. Do you
get
that?” He gave me a shake for emphasis.

I braced my hands against his chest. Where my fingers touched his bare skin, it felt like the dark hair there was made of electric wire. I jerked my hand back for a second knowing he must have felt the shock, but I couldn’t not touch him. I needed to have my hands on him.

All sorts of very human thoughts were running through my head.
This is Lucas’s best friend. Isn’t Lucas my boyfriend? No. Is it okay to sleep with someone and say my metaphysical connection to him made me do it? Okay, that’s actually a pretty good excuse
.

This close to him, I saw his eyes were not true gray but rather a washed-out violet, which was a pleasant surprise, giving his already striking face a little extra uniqueness. He loosened his grip on me, and I stood flat on the ground again.

“Yes,” I said.

His hands were still on my arms, and I felt like I was on fire and freezing to death at the same time. I shivered. He rubbed my arms with the familiarity of an old habit, warming me with his touch but making the heat move lower as well. My body shuddered.

“Yes?” He had forgotten the question.

I was amazed we even remembered our names with this much static electricity dancing between us. All I kept thinking was,
he wants me
. And right then what I wanted more than anything was to be wanted. Maybe it was weak of me, but it would make me feel safe and protected, if only for one night.

We were staring at each other for so long I thought my entire being would unravel in his hands. In one breath I was wondering if I’d gotten the signals wrong or imagined the chemistry that was setting fire to the air. Was I misreading anger for passion? In the next breath his mouth was on mine.

Love speaks volumes without a single word.

Silent Storm

© 2011 Vivian Arend

Pacific Passion, Book 3

In the months they’ve traveled together, Laurin Marshall and Matt Jentry’s attraction has grown beyond spectacular sexual passion into a deeper emotional connection. Still, Laurin wrestles with one last question: how a water shifter and an air shifter can possibly find permanent common ground.

Matt is content to wait patiently for Laurin to realize he has no desire to change her sky-borne nature. Until a giant golden eagle touches down on the
Stormchild
and tips the delicate balance of more than just the boat.

Laurin’s obvious affection for the newcomer comes as a shock. And so does the flash of jealousy that interferes with his shamanic ability to heal the man’s malady. While Matt struggles to balance his conflicted responsibilities, Laurin attempts to reconcile her undeniable feelings for one of her kind with her desire for Matt.

Somewhere between the ocean depths and the mountaintops, they need to find a love strong enough to call them both home to the
Stormchild
.

Warning: Familiar lovers (hot) with old rivals (hotter) and a wild curse-melting ménage (hottest yet). Get ready for one exotic paranormal that will make you look to the skies and sea with longing.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Silent Storm:

All around her, towering mountains descended sharply into the sparkling waters of the Pacific. Their ragged surfaces were torn as if a giant hand had grabbed desperate snatches from the earth, leaving behind nothing but thin air and harsh ridges of granite exposed to the brilliant August sun. Along the waterline, where the tide’s highest marks had ripped and torn the land, sun-bleached logs lay in tangled heaps, the exposed roots of massive cedars now tormented remains of once majestic trees.

The world kept changing. It was inevitable.

Laurin Marshall guided her kayak along the inlet, letting the crisp morning air fill her lungs, seeking a moment’s respite from her internal turmoil. Her mind was filled with images, emotions, and uncertain longings. Two years had passed since she’d deserted her mountain clan to find a place among the water shifters known as the People of the Sea. Only a couple months ago her life had been radically transformed again.

She dipped one side of the double paddle, then the other, moving her arms in a smooth, even rhythm. Trying to let the pace of her heart and the motion of the routine soothe her aching soul.

There were so many things she loved about this life. The water, the proximity to the coastal mountain ranges. The way the water reflected the emotion of the seasons in the colors filling the seemingly endless sky.

She couldn’t get enough of the beauty before her. So different, and in some ways raw and stark, compared to the Rockies where she’d grown up. Oh, the mountains of her home reached even higher to the sky, and when she flew, shifted into one of the forms of the People of the Air, it seemed there was nothing between her and the stars. But here, the ocean spoke to her. It had a voice and a song—poles apart from the wind in the pine trees or the flutter of a breeze against a mountain lake.

The sea was vibrant and alive, and she’d fallen totally in love with it.

Laurin paused in her paddling, letting the kayak drift as she rested out of the wind in a small bay. Around her a pod of dolphins surfaced, a couple of the younger ones sliding cheekily alongside her craft, their pectoral fins slapping the water beside the gunwales and splashing her. She laughed aloud and held up a hand to ward off the worst of the attack.

The matriarch of the group surfaced and sang out, and Laurin wished again she could understand what she was saying. The female, with her beautiful smile, dipped her head then submerged, the rest of the pod following. An immature male rose one final time into the air, twisting and landing beside the kayak. Laurin was instantly drenched.

She had to smile. The sea and her people were amazing, even though she’d never been so waterlogged in her life. Part of the downside of being partner to the shaman of the Pacific Inside Passage. Laurin picked up her paddle and headed for the thin strip of sand visible just ahead of her. There were dry clothes in the aft compartment, and if she’d read Matt’s note correctly, there should be a relaxing break waiting ahead.

He joined her on the beach. Six feet of brown skin, firm muscles and a grin that was all for her. The neat khaki shorts he wore did nothing but draw her attention to his bare chest and the ridge of his abdominal muscles carving down under the beltline.

“Did you have a good paddle?” Matt pulled the prow of the kayak far up on the sand so she could step out onto solid ground. His thoughtfulness warmed her, even though she scarcely needed to worry about staying dry. He guided her with a steady hand as he helped her from the cockpit. “Laurin, why are you soaked?”

Because your people gave me homage? “
Enthusiastic teenager, I think.”

Matt Jentry wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, his even heartbeat under her ear now so familiar and so right, she could barely imagine not having him close by. Somewhere near, to touch, to talk to. She glanced up at his beautiful face, firm cheekbones, strong jawline. She couldn’t imagine never getting to taste him again.

“Well, that’s an intriguing look. You going to share what’s on your mind to go with that enticing expression?” His voice was husky and low, and her need for him blossomed into full desire.

She couldn’t imagine life without his lovemaking either. She reached up and brought their mouths together.

He kissed her softly, placing a series of light bites along her lower lip, dragging the surface into his mouth and letting it go. She explored with her tongue, teasing his lips, his teeth, his tongue. All the while his hands were busy at her buttons, her waistband. Stripping off her clothes, baring her to the elements. She willingly did the same for him, thrilling at the encounter of her fingers against his torso. The slight breeze brushed her skin, and she wondered again at the remote locations he always managed to find. There were no clans close to this inlet, no human eyes to see them naked and entwined.

Matt lifted her in his arms without taking his lips from hers. She closed her eyes and simply soaked in the experience. The warmth of his touch versus the cool of the blanket he lowered her to. The heat of his kisses, now descending to worship her breasts and tease her nipples to tight peaks. The breeze stroked a cold finger over the wet tip and it tightened even more.

He hummed in admiration. “I did have a picnic lunch arranged, but I’m not sure if I have the strength to wait. Are you hungry?”

Laurin stared up at her lover of two months, the man with whom she had a mystical connection they were still trying to figure out. A mental and emotional connection beyond the ordinary—that only grew stronger the longer they were together. “I’m always hungry for you.”

They moved together with an easy rhythm, the first fumbling moments of becoming lovers seemingly far in the past. It was straightforward, but not boring, the passion between them rising fast and staying strong. Whether it was because their magic clicked, or because somehow they truly fit together well, Laurin didn’t know. And at this time, didn’t care to analyze.

She needed him. As always.

Matt pulled her close, stroking his hands down her naked torso. He cupped her butt and slid her over him so they were centered on the blanket. It took him a second to sit upright before pressing her backward slightly to expose her breasts to his attention. His lips fastened around one tip, drawing a string of desire through her entire being, an echoing pulse beginning in her core. Each suckle triggered a responding internal throb, and she moaned, dragging her fingers through his dark hair to hold him close.

Receiving his full attention was a humbling experience. Laurin had never felt this way about previous lovers, had never had a connection that went deeper than the physical pleasure they shared. With Matt, his steamy touch was wrapped up in the layers of emotion she felt from him. It mixed with traces of thoughts that tangled her mind, and there were moments she didn’t know if it was her ideas or his driving her crazy with desire.