Wicked Wonderland (26 page)

“Rurik was happy to hear of your full recovery, and he told us that you have another half sister, Nerissa. As the daughter of an Undine, she’s part air sprite and part water fae.”

“A sister?” Overcome with emotion, Lilly found it hard to swallow, difficult to speak. “I’d like to meet her…if you think that’s possible, I mean.”

Nick put an arm around her and brushed her bangs out of her eyes. “I’m sure that could be arranged.”

Wow, maybe there was a possibility she could even meet her real father. She gulped, thinking about it. “So if Nerissa is half air sprite, she and I must share the same dad?”

Kris winced. “Yeah, his name is Orane.”

Lilly understood Kris’s reaction. “Right, Orane. Zenia called him a cold fish, ruthless and brutal. I guess he’s not someone I should meet?”

“Probably not, sweetheart.”

Lilly shuddered and nestled into the crook of Nick’s arm, where she felt safe. “Do you think that Nerissa will become the fae queen, then?”

Kris’s eyes clouded briefly. “We really don’t know who will take the throne now. The battle between different elementals and between light and dark fae is always complicated.”

Suddenly, Nick’s smile dropped. He seemed nervous. “Lilly, you know we’ve both fallen in love with you.” He chewed on his bottom lip, something she’d never seen him do before. “Do you think… Would you ever consider marrying one of us? I mean, making a mortal-type commitment? I mean, if you want us to continue living most of our lives in the mortal world, it would make sense.”

She laughed, happier than she could ever have imagined. “I definitely want to make a commitment! With you two around, how could I want anyone or anything else?”

With a whoop, Kris jumped up, took her in his arms and spun her around while Nick laughed.

Kris let go and headed for the kitchen. “I’m going to get some champagne!”

Nick grasped her hand, a serious and intense look on his face. His beautiful, deep hazel eyes had her full attention. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I believe Kris is the one you should marry.”

Her newfound self-confidence took a dive in the face of his rejection, and she shifted away from him. “You don’t want to marry me?”

“Oh my God.” He laughed. “You are so wrong. I love you. I’ve loved you since we were in college together and missed you like hell ever since.”

“I guess my old lack of self-esteem welled up again there for a minute, huh?” She managed a laugh.

“Lilly, don’t you see? Kris knows how much you love me, but he’s always been unsure what you feel for him, and he’s scared. I know he acts easygoing, but his self-esteem issues in life have kind of mirrored your own and at times even affected his power. I think it would mean a lot to him.”

She realized she did know, had known, that Kris misunderstood what she felt for them both. It was only Nick’s dominant personality that had made her pay more attention to him in the past. She vowed not to let that continue. Kris’s sunny personality and easygoing ways were, at times, a relief in contrast to Nick’s intensity. She loved them both, alpha and beta men, with all her heart.

“The other thing…” Nick looked down at his feet. “I don’t know whether my sword fighting has made me mortal or not. It’s likely that Kris could live a lot longer than me, and he has the magic and power to take care of you much better than I can.”

Her heart ached with love for him and sadness at the great sacrifice he’d made for her. She stroked a hand over his wrist. “I’d be beyond happy to marry either one of you. It doesn’t matter which.”

He hauled her into his arms and kissed her forehead. “Kris and I, we’ve been waiting for you for far too long. Ten years too long.” He framed her face with his hands and brushed his lips softly over hers. He lingered, then deepened the kiss.

Kris returned with a silver bucket containing a champagne bottle and flutes and set them down. Condensation ran in rivulets down its side, leaving a pool of water on the coffee table.

Lilly took the exquisite crystal flute Kris gave her and took a sip.

“To your marriage and to us,” Nick said. Kris’s eyes widened.

“I’d love to marry you, Kris.” She watched him gulp as the three clicked glasses. Lilly noticed the men stared at the wrist she’d raised when she’d toasted their engagement. Her gaze fell to the turquoise bracelet. The robin’s egg blue stone glowed as though infused with light.

She gulped. “What does it mean?”

Kris smiled at her gently; his expression made her heart go soft. “I’m pretty sure it means that three fated mates have come together. And that we’ve finally reached the level of maturity to deserve each other.” He laughed, then sobered.

Nick shook his head. “It means more than that. It’s a sign that any craven or cowardly behavior is behind us, and that we won’t falter or change our minds about each other. The bracelet also thinks we’ve deliberately done a binding ceremony, even though that wasn’t our intention. It means you could be queen if you wanted to be, Lilly.”

Tears gathered in her eyes. She glanced at each of them in turn. “I have no idea about this queen business, but I know I won’t ever change my mind about being with the two of you.” She looked back and forth between them. “This is where I’m meant to be.”

About the Author

Since she came of age Lisa Whitefern has embarrassed people by talking about sex. Now she writes the hottest of erotic romance and erotica.

Lisa also has a life-long passion for fairy tales and fantasy. Ever since her teacher read
The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe
to her class when she was six, Lisa’s been looking for ways to visit Narnia.

Lisa thinks it immensely unfair she can’t wiggle her nose to clean her house like Samantha in the TV show
Bewitched
.

She has a master’s degree with honors in English Literature, reads tarot cards and tutors children of all ages in English after school.

Although born in New York City to American parents, Lisa has lived most of her life in Auckland, New Zealand. She now lives in the foothills of the beautiful Waitakere Ranges of Auckland with her husband and her two gorgeous sons.

www.twitter.com/LisaWhitefern

Can she handle everything they are?

Studs

© 2012 Vonna Harper

True to her Hopi mother’s restless spirit, Terena Rothrock follows news stories all over the Southwest. Lately, though, her heart is calling her back to the rez. But not before she swings through Phoenix to see her cousin race his amazingly fast new horse.

At the track, two powerful men watch the horse with suspicion in their eyes. Watch Terena with the drive to possess her oozing from every pore. When they seem to shift into stallions in her mind’s eye, shock—and arousal—flood her body.

Far from home and their herd, Nokoni and Hah-Tee can’t afford to draw attention to themselves. Instant attraction to Terena complicates their already competitive relationship, but she’s their one connection to the man they suspect stole one of their mares.

Overcome by instincts as ancient as time, the urge to mate rolls over them with the speed and ferocity of a desert storm. Yet even as Terena struggles to make sense of her desire for the swift, mysterious shifters, danger lurks. Someone is out to collect every last one of the horses born with wings on their feet—even if it means bullets must fly.

Warning: Studs doing what studs do, hormones raging, and of course the whole complex threesome thing.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Studs:

Backing up and rearing, Red whinnied again. The high scream-like sound seared Terena’s nerves. Despite her concern that the horse might hurt herself, Terena couldn’t keep her attention off the men. They were maybe a hundred feet away and walking with slow, measured steps, as if giving her time to comprehend what was happening. When she’d seen them earlier, they’d been closer but surrounded by race-goers. Now, nothing stood between her and them.

They weren’t friends with each other. She sensed their complex relationship in the space they kept between them. Despite that, they walked in sync, the slightly shorter man lengthening his stride to match the other.

What did their relationship matter? They were coming toward her, staring intently.

Ahote was out of sight, more concerned with his damn conversation than her or his horse. He’d left her to—

Sudden anger washed away the fear she didn’t want to acknowledge. This wasn’t the Wild West. A couple of cowpokes couldn’t march into town and take over. Take her.

Red’s hooves tattooed the ground. “It’s all right. You’re all right,” she soothed without taking her attention off the stalking men. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

Galvanized by her promise, she stepped fully into the sunlight and crossed her arms over her chest. The newcomers still walked in slow-motion with their arms by their sides, their body-hugging clothing revealing every move. Her throat dried, her nipples hardened and her core heated.

Determined to get control over her misbehaving body, she pressed her forearms against her too-sensitive breasts and lifted her head so the breeze stroked her throat. She had a few seconds before they came so close their energy touched her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

Instead of answering, they continued to approach her, or was it stalking? To her disbelief, they pulled their T-shirts over their heads, revealing twin six packs. Still holding on to their tops, they started unbuttoning their jeans.

“This isn’t funny.” She couldn’t speak above a whisper.

“No,” the slightly older man said, “it isn’t. Be patient. You’ll soon understand.”

She wanted to tell them she’d never ever understand what was happening, but that would have to wait because they’d stopped and were removing their socks and shoes. Next came their jeans, drawn down over non-existent bellies and muscled thighs.

“You can’t—” she started.

“We have to.” Instead of explaining, as if there’d ever be an explanation for this, the two made short work of their briefs. They were semi-erect.

“Shit,” she whispered, then covered her face with her hands and turned her back to them. The faint popping sounds behind her made no sense, and their low gasps made her wonder if they were in pain. Any thoughts she might have had of fleeing died. When the sounds stopped, she forced herself to turn around.

Where were the men?

And where had the two magnificent stallions come from?

It couldn’t be! The nearly identical four-legged animals didn’t exist! Couldn’t. The highly arched necks, hard-muscled chests, breeze-tossed manes and long, uplifted tails were her imagination.

Despite the denial running through her, she continued to stare. They weren’t as tall as draft horses, but close. The similarity ended with height comparisons, because, unlike a Percheron or Clydesdale, these creatures were built for speed, not pulling power.

Sunlight caressed the mostly black bodies and played up where black slid into copper on their bellies and flanks. Large, pure-white splotches splayed over their chests. Their ears pointed forward as if listening for any sound she might make.

Red pranced while these two turned their gait into an art form, with high-striking front legs and unbelievably muscled hindquarters. Their nostrils flared; they held their heads high and proud. Long, thick erect penises jutted forward.

“Oh shit. Oh shit.”

The duo stopped, glanced at each other, reared in unison. She stared, uncomprehending, at prime horseflesh balanced on powerful back legs while their front legs stabbed the air. Their heads arched even tighter, making their necks bow and the tendons stand out. She waited for them to bellow like the aroused studs they were, but they remained silent. It was, she crazily concluded, as if they knew how to show themselves off to best advantage.

If only she had her camera with her.

If only this made sense.

Overwhelmed, she hugged her waist for comfort. She closed her eyes. Maybe two seconds passed before she found the courage to open them again.

The stallions were gone, the men back, their lack of expression unnerving as they redressed.

“No.” She began rocking herself. Her mind snagged on the white markings on the horses’ chests. Should have paid closer attention to them. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, she was incapable of fully comprehending what she’d just experienced.

Or imagined she’d experienced.

That was it. She’d had a mind meltdown.

Red still moved about but seemed a little less agitated. Maybe she’d locked in to Terena’s mind glitch, and that was what had upset her. Well, it wasn’t going to happen again.

Realizing she was still hugging herself and rocking, Terena forced her hands to her sides. With each step they took, the approaching men made an even greater impact on her system.

Comanche.

Was that what they were? Damn it, why couldn’t she think? Besides, what did it matter what tribe, if any, they were members of?

The day wasn’t that hot, mid-seventies with a nice breeze, but she was on fire. Praying she’d wake up from this crazy dream while reverently wishing she could stay deep inside it, she swallowed several times to work moisture back into her throat. The duo was no more than ten feet away.

“What do you want?” she asked.
And how did you morph into stallions, if you did?

“Where is he?” the taller, slightly older man asked.

Ahote! Get back here.
“Who are you talking about?” There was no denying their body heat or the hit-her-over-the-head sensual impact. Time needed to slow down. Hell, it should stop so she stood a chance of taking in everything she was experiencing.

“We saw you embrace him,” the apparently designated speaker said. “Who is he, your lover?”

“No. Of course not.” The speaker’s tone revealed nothing of what he was thinking. Knowing they’d come looking for Ahote—and that they’d been watching her—knocked her even more off balance. But, as overwhelmed as she felt, she wasn’t about to put her cousin at risk if she could help it. “What do you want him for?”