A Time of Dying (Araneae Nation) (32 page)

Araneae Nation

A Hint of Frost

A Feast of Souls

A Cast of Shadows

The strongest net is no match for destiny.

A Cast of Shadows

© 2013 Hailey Edwards

An
Araneae Nation
Story

Daraja has grown up watching her brothers journey down the river on the traditional Deinopidae rite of passage. Each returned with riches from their travels, and lovers with whom to share their lives.

Now she has reached the age where she would strike out on her own to seek her fortune—if she were male. Instead, she is expected to sit patiently, weave her nets and wait for the river to bring a husband to her.

Patience, however, has never been her strong suit.

Brynmor haunts the forest surrounding the city of Cathis, his disembodied spirit inextricably bound to the wild canis roaming his lands. Until the day he stumbles across a brazen trespasser in his woods.

Compelled to step in when the canis suspect her of poaching one of their own, Brynmor fears he has lost a piece of his ragged soul to the feisty, adventure-seeking female. And when the canis confront the real poachers, he is forced to choose which life to sacrifice. Hers…or his own.

Warning: This book contains one heroine with a knack for weaving nets and one hero who relishes getting caught. Expect singing, some howling, ghostly shenanigans, and the start of a love that transcends death.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
A Cast of Shadows:

Forget the canis; this male was the most dangerous creature in the woods. Black eyes ringed with sadness, dark hair tousled by his hands. His thin lips pressed tight as if guarding a mouthful of secrets. Before we ventured any farther, I was determined to pry at least one secret from him.

I used my grip on his hand to keep him still. “What is your name?”

He didn’t answer, but he did begin toeing the rocks at his feet.

“I won’t give you time to think of a lie.” I warned, “Tell me your name or I will leave.”

He glanced up slowly, seeming to have made a decision. “My name is Brynmor.”

“That sounds familiar.” I thought it over. “Wasn’t that the name of a Mimetidae paladin?”

“It was, once.” He used our joined hands and led me to the basin. He climbed in first.

I braced on his shoulders to avoid slipping on mossy stones. “You were named after him?”

“Not exactly.” He grasped my hips and lifted me over the ledge.

My toes curled when they touched the calf-deep water. “It’s cold.”

I caught him staring where my nipples beaded beneath my shirt. He said, “I can see that.”

I gave the front of his pants a frank assessment. “Pity I can’t tell if you were affected.”

His eyes shot open wide and his lips parted, but he didn’t utter a sound.

“It’s all right.” I patted him on the shoulder and waded past him to hold my hand beneath the waterfall’s spray. “You aren’t the first male to suffer the ill effects of icy water on his…
pride
.”

His gaze bored into my back. “I assure you, my
pride
has not been affected.”

“Of course not.” I smothered my grin as I turned to face him. “Now, why are we—?”

Brynmor’s face was inches from mine. His scowl lined his forehead and mouth. He stalked me back until I hit a stone ledge and a torrent of water soaked me from shoulder to toe. “It’s not wise to tempt a male who might see your flirtation as an invitation for more.” He bent down, and his soft lips feathered across my cheek. “Do you want more, Daraja?” He fit his hips to mine, and I gasped at the hard ridge of flesh he pressed against me. “I didn’t think so. Come on.”

He left me panting against the falls, asking myself,
What in the gods’ names was I thinking?

Never one to shy away from who or what I wanted, when had I decided I wanted him?

One day my penchant for rebellion would land me in an early grave. How often had Father said so? If I wasn’t careful, the desire to explore the tingles burning my skin where Brynmor had touched me would land me in his bed. Dangerous to crave a male I had just met. No doubt that was the source of his appeal.

Before trailing after him, I ducked my head under the falls and prayed the rushing water would beat some sense into me. Let him think that was why my cheeks were flushed and I was breathless.

While shaking the water from my hair, I heard soft laughter and spotted him watching me.

Fresh heat burned in my cheeks.

“Are you ready now or should I make myself comfortable?” he asked.

“I’m ready.” I straightened my shoulders. “What is it you wanted to show me?”

“There is only one way out of Cathis, unless you go over or under the walls.” He stared into the forest. “The Mimetidae keep their prisoners in a grotto beneath the city. There’s a tunnel used for transportation and…private liaisons…near here.” He grinned at my surprise. “What’s another secret between friends? Besides you don’t strike me as the type to go about liberating prisoners.”

I shook my head. “My clan has plenty without me borrowing more from the Mimetidae.”

“Most clans do,” he agreed, bending to examine a pile of smooth stones.

Leaning over his shoulder, I asked, “Do you find stones so interesting?”

Amusement deepened his voice. “Not so much the stones as what they conceal.”

Ah. Our outing began to make more sense. “You have a cache hidden here.”

“I do.” He shook out his arms. “Give me room.”

“Why?” I backed up a step. “What are you doing?”

“Must you question everything?” He sounded as if he didn’t mind my curiosity.

So I said, “Yes.”

I believe he muttered about the inquisitiveness of the young or some such nonsense. If I had to guess, I bet his age was within five years of mine, so he was hardly an authority to lecture me.

As he worked, I hovered at his shoulder. “If the grotto’s proximity mattered to you, then you must have intended your cache to be part of a contingency plan. Say the city fell, you would take the secret exit through the grotto, stop here and then raid the cache before you went into hiding.”

He shook his head. “Only a coward leaves his city while it’s under siege.”

“Oh?” I savored the view while he worked. “Then why have this made? Why here?”

“The rest of your theory was sound.” He glanced up. “I did this for my family, to provide for them if I was unable to. We were poorer in those days. Their fortunes have improved since then.”

The words fell from my lips before I could catch them. “You have family in Cathis.”

Of course he did. What other tether could tie a male with no clan to Mimetidae land?

“I do.” He nodded. “This cache was meant for my son…and for my wife.”

“You have a wife.”

“I did.” Muscles in Brynmor’s neck twitched.

“I shouldn’t have asked.” It was none of my business, even after… No. It didn’t matter.

His thick voice carried over the frothing water. “We lived separately for years before…”

“You don’t have to tell me.” I didn’t want to hear how his heart belonged to another. Or that his earlier burst of passion was the response of a male deprived from activities in his marital bed.

“It’s not what you think,” was all he said.

“With married males, it never is.”

He didn’t disagree with me, but straightened with a grunt. “Here you are.”

A shimmering gold pendant set with a glossy black stone hung from his fingers on a slender chain. My fingers curled with desire to snatch the bauble and examine it. When he coiled it in my palm and folded my hand closed over it, my covetous heart fluttered despite the blow he had dealt it.

My first treasure—the first spoils earned during my journey—warmed my hand.

“This is yours.” He tapped my clenched fist. “Or it can be
if
you earn it.”

“A net is all you want?” I wanted to be very sure. “I can weave a large one in two days.”

Appearing to consider my question, he finally said, “A net is all I require.”

Aware of the thin line I tread, unsure why I did so, I nudged him. “Is that all you want?”

“Would you give me more?” His voice took on a rugged quality that gave me chills.

“It depends.” I laughed to loosen the knot in my chest. “What else is in that cache of yours?”

The grin spreading across his face made him dangerously handsome. “Perhaps I’ll show you sometime.” He stepped back and exposed an intricate metal trap set in the stone wall with silvery metal teeth and serrated jaws. I watched him slide five pins into the hinged joints before looking away. His tone was apologetic. “In case you’re tempted to double back and treasure hunt alone.”

“Put your mind at ease.” I wiggled my fingers. “I value my hands too much to risk them.”

He captured my wrist and brought my hand to his mouth, where he kissed my pointer finger.

The gesture was so tender, so unexpected, it shattered me. “Tell me about your wife.”

“We should leave.” He swept past me without a backward glance. “It’s getting late.”

Knowing I should let it go, doubting he would answer me, I caught his arm. “One question.”

His head fell back, and his eyes drank in the sky over our heads. “One.”

“Did you love her?” It was the most important thing I could think to ask.

“Yes.” He shrugged free of me, and I was left alone with the fruits of my curiosity.

She is the one wolf who can tame his feral spirit.

Running Free

© 2013 Jorrie Spencer

A
Northern Shifters
Story

A year and a half ago, if someone had told Zach that he’d be guardian to the creature he distrusts most—a wolf shifter—he’d have laughed. A half-broken horse shifter as father figure? No way.

Now, he’d kill to protect the pup he found lost in the woods—and he has. Which, unfortunately, has attracted the attention of Wolf Town’s alpha.

Sally prefers to keep a low profile among her fellow shifters in Wolf Town. Yet when she’s asked to investigate a pup living outside the safety of the pack, she can’t bring herself to refuse.

From the moment Zach meets the new piano teacher, his world tilts. Her scent gets under his skin. Her touch retrieves missing pieces of his memory. But even as their blazing attraction flares out of control, trust is the hardest to give, and the one thing they both need if they’re to save the boy from another attack.

Warning: This book contains violence and sex, though not at the same time. Be advised, the protective shifters may cause you to want to move to Wolf Town.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Running Free:

If nothing else, Sally had plenty of time to play the piano over the next two days. It was fun to focus on it and hone her skills. Even if the real reason she was here, Storm, was always at the back of her mind.

And now, it was quite squarely in the forefront because within ten minutes, if Zach was an on-time kind of guy, she was going to meet them for Storm’s first piano lesson.

She paced, but slowly, unwilling to greet them with an elevated heart rate and flushed skin. Shifters noticed things like that, even children. She wanted to reassure Storm—and Zach, whether he was a shifter or not. The idea of a horse shifter still struck her as outlandish. But she tried to keep an open mind. After all, Angus was hardly prone to flights of fancy.

The doorbell rang. She pulled in a breath, calmed herself and calmed her wolf who was again prancing around inside, excited to be meeting other shifters. Sally didn’t know if she was the only wolf in the world so out of sync—she had yet to ask others—but she had a wolf who was more social than her human.

It didn’t matter right now. She strode to the front door and pulled it open.

“Hello.” She looked down at the little blond boy first. He stared at her with big eyes, a bit wary but also interested, excited about something new. A good sign, and she found herself smiling naturally. “You must be Storm.”

She made it a point not to obviously pull in a breath, as the boy himself did. Very wolflike, and she didn’t want to reveal herself to Storm or his guardian.

Storm bit his lip, perhaps in reaction to her scent, and nodded.

Sally inwardly braced herself as she raised her gaze to greet Zach the possible horse shifter.

“Come in, Mr…?” She took in an expressionless face, brown eyes, auburn hair.

“Call me Zach.”

She stepped backwards and gestured them inside. “Please call me Sally.”

Zach nodded while Storm concentrated on getting out of his winter gear. She breathed in, once the door had shut, caught Storm’s distinctive wolf scent and something from Zach. He
was
different, though if she hadn’t been told he might be a shifter, she wouldn’t have realized he had a not-quite-human scent.