#paranormaromance

[artist-daydreams-art]

Mamoru the vampire

Mamoru is his handsome self in a rose patterned tux. I thought that would fit him. With his gold pendant he can go out in the sun. But don't worry if you meet him on the streets, he won't bite... unless you're a certain bunny ;)

[naomigoeswoah]

Leo Kim character aesthetic

- African American Lit major, rapper for fun, strong yet feminine is in his energy:caring & creative & intimate

🧘🏻‍♂️🌞📚✊🏾

[valiantlytransparentwhispers]

Just an idea I've been playing with.

Area 52

It all started with a wolf's howl that pierced the night and one man with a camera. One who just so happened to enjoy exploring the desert area around his home during the night and especially during a full moon.

He'd heard the howl and, thinking perhaps one of the wolves had escaped from the zoo two hours away, decided to investigate. What he found, however, was far worse.

When he saw it, and at that only from a distance, he managed to catch it on camera. It looked like a very large dog, but moved faster and jumped farther than any dog should be able to. The footage wasn't very good of course, but it was enough to warrant an investigation from Fact or Faked after it was submitted.

When they investigated, they discovered the thing to be real–especially when it came near their camp, barking and growling to scare them off.

Shortly after, the government swept in, claimed it was all a top secret experiment, swore them all to secrecy, and the footage was never aired.

This brings us to a small abandoned gas station in the middle of a Colorado desert. Or so it appears, anyway, for if you were to wander inside, during the middle of the night on a full moon and stand silently near the back, close to the refrigerators, you'd hear the faint sounds of someone playing a guitar. And if you were to follow the sound, it would lead you to the very last door in the far corner of the building. Were you to open the door and press your ear to the back panel, the sounds would suddenly become much clearer and the door, for that's what the panel secretly is, would open–if you had the security clearance of course. Once through the door, you'd follow the staircase down, down, down until you reached another door and another security checkpoint. Once through that door, you'd find the whole of Area 52.

The sounds of guitar playing would now be joined by the sounds of someone singing and if you were to follow the sound, you'd find a man, a janitor to be more specific, sitting outside one of the cells, playing his guitar and singing to the thing inside.

Moving closer to the cell, you'd see a fairly large wolf lying on the floor, her tail thumping occasionally as she listens.

Aaron, for that was his name, reaches the end of his song and stops. When the wolf doesn't move, he carefully begins to pack his guitar away again.

She opens her eyes again at that moment and gets to her feet, barking loudly at him.

"Ah, come on, Tala," he says. "It's 2 in the morning and I'm tired."

She barks again.

He sighs. "Can I at least go get some coffee?"

She huffs, laying down on the floor again and resting her head on her paws.

"Thank you," he says before setting his guitar down and heading off, returning a few minutes later with a cup of coffee. He takes a sip as he sits down again and picks up his guitar.

"What do you want to hear next?" he asks as he sets the cup on the floor next to his chair. "'I Hold On,' Dierks Bentley?"

Tala growls softly.

"Alright how about 'Lovin' You is Fun,' Brett Eldridge?"

She growls again.

"Okay." He falls silent for a moment, thinking. "'I Don't Dance,' Lee Brice?"

Tala huffs and Aaron nods.

"'I Don't Dance' it is." He strums a few chords. "I can't do this one so well, so don't get mad at me if I screw up."

She only huffs again, making him smile as he starts playing.

"I'll never settle down

That's what I always thought

Yeah, I was that kind of man

Just ask anyone

I don't dance

But here I am

Spinning you round and round in circles

It ain't my style

But I don't care

I'd do anything with you anywhere

Yeah you've got me in the palm of your hand, girl

'Cause I don't dance."

As Aaron sings, he remembers when he'd first seen Tala. She'd been in a cage covered in a sheet, her howls echoing through the base.

He'd found out later that they'd tried tranquilizing her, but that hadn't worked and what had ensued was a heart pounding chase until she'd eventually been cornered and caged.

The sheet had been pulled away and he'd caught his breath.

Her fur was mostly white with gray tips and her eyes were as blue as ice. As a wolf, she was twice as big as an ordinary one and twice as strong.

Moments later the full moon had set and she'd changed, becoming human. If she'd stunned him as a wolf, she shocked him senseless as a human. She was slight with a soft face framed by shoulder length pale blond hair. Her eyes were just as blue as they had been when she was a wolf and filled with fear. He hadn't known her then, but he'd felt sorry for her all the same.

Sylvia, the lead scientist, had tried to take a blood sample, but been held off by the slight girl who was much stronger than she looked. It had taken three men just to hold her still and at that barely long enough for her to get the sample. Aaron still wasn't sure if it was because she was a werewolf or because she'd been scared.

If Syl hadn't still needed a sample of her as a wolf, they might have let her go then. But as it was, they wouldn't be able to do so until she shifted again during the next full moon. But it had come around and she hadn't let anyone get near her and no amount of men had been able to hold her still.

They'd tried different methods in the months following, but nothing had worked. So there she remained, trapped in her cell.

As each full moon came and went, she howled and barked all through the night, driving General Sebastian crazy until Aaron had come through one night singing one of his songs.

She'd immediately fallen silent and the General had instantly appointed him the task of keeping her quiet.

"I thought you hated country music," Aaron had said.

"I'll take your blasted singing over that animal's racket any day," he'd replied, so here Aaron sat during each full moon.

He finishes the song and seconds later, Tala takes human form again. The moon had finally set.

He studies her as she gets to her feet and moves over to her cot.

"You could let them you know."

"What?" Tala asks as she sits down.

"Let them have the sample."

She shakes her head. "They'd put a tracker in me and follow me around the rest of my life. I couldn't take that."

He puts his guitar back in the case. "They won't let you go until they get it," he says.

She doesn't respond right away. "I know," she says softly.

"Won't you at least think about it?" he asks. "Having them follow you around all the time has to be better than being cooped up in here forever."

Tala sighs and nods. "I'll think about it," she promises.

During the next full moon as Aaron cuts through the lab on his way to Tala's cell with his guitar, he's stopped by Professor Sylvia.

"That won't be necessary tonight, Aaron," she says.

"What?" he asks. "Why?"

"She's agreed to give us the sample," comes the reply.

Aaron stands unmoving for a moment, unsure whether to be disappointed or relieved.

"Can I watch?" he asks finally.

"Sure. As long as you stay out of the way."

He nods, setting his guitar against the wall before following the Professor to Tala's cell. The full moon is already up and the wolf inside watches everyone calmly.

Aaron studies her. She didn't look resigned or even defeated. She looked.....determined.

All at once the realization slams into Aaron. She was going to try and escape.

"Uh..General," he says, approaching him.

Tala's gaze swings to him and she growls low in her throat. Aaron looks over at her, faced with the decision of revealing her plan or keeping silent.

"Yes?" General Sebastian asks.

"Uh......good luck, sir," Aaron says.

The General rolls his eyes.  "We don't need luck," he says.

"Of course, sir. Sorry, sir."

"How many times have I told you, 'Never–'"

"'Apologize. It's a sign of weakness," Aaron says. "Yes, sir."

"And don't you forget it," Sebastian says, turning to watch as Sylvia puts in the code to Tala's cell.

Aaron watches Tala as her muscles tense, ready to move.

Sylvia leaves the door open slightly as she turns to take the syringe held out to her by one of her assistants. In that moment, Tala pounces.

She springs forward, shoving the door open and knocking Sylvia over.

A few of the guards try to move in toward her, but she's ready for them, moving quickly away and racing for the door.

The door that only opened via handprint scanner.

She tries forcing it open, but she only bounces off again, her right front leg buckling as she hits the floor making Aaron wince. That had hurt.

The guards rush toward her but she gets to her feet again, growling a warning.

They pause until one manages to gather his courage and move toward her again. She lunges forward, her jaws snapping shut on his arm.

He screams in pain as the bone in his arm shatters. Tala releases him and he retreats, holding his injured arm close to his body.

The rest of the guards are a little more hesitant to advance now.

General Sebastian sighs. "We don't have time for this! Just shoot it!"

They obey, drawing their weapons and taking aim.

"No! Stop!" Aaron yells, placing himself between the guns and Tala. "Just let me talk to her. Please."

Sebastian sighs once more. "Make it quick."

Aaron turns to look at Tala. "It doesn't have to be like this if you'd just–"

She growls, shaking her head.

"They won't let you go until you do," he says. “It's impossible to get out of here on your own."

She looks at him. Then help me, her eyes seem to say.

Aaron hesitates. He knew his handprint would open the door for her.

He nods. "Okay," he says before pressing his hand to the scanner.

The light turns green and she rushes through the open door and he follows, jamming the door shut behind him to delay the others.

She races ahead of him up the stairs, taking them in giant leaps of almost 10 at a time. He follows much more slowly, finding her waiting for him at the top as the door finally opens far below them.

Aaron opens the second door for her, breathing hard, and she slips past him into the abandoned station full of empty shelves, heading for the front door and the broken windows. All that remained between her and freedom.

"Tala," he says, and she pauses, looking back at him. "Good luck."

She bobs her head once in a nod before bounding out of sight. He leans against the door frame, catching his breath until General Sebastian and the guards reach him.

"Where is she?!" Sebastian demands.

"Gone," Aaron says.

The General punches a nearby wall, cursing. "You're fired!"

They head silently back downstairs and Aaron stands for a moment longer in the stillness.

A moment later a wolf's howl echoes across the moonlit desert and he smiles before following the others, shutting the door behind him again.

A Few Years Later

Aaron drives up the narrow moonlit mountain road, nursing a hot cup of coffee in an effort to keep sleep at bay. The horizon was already growing lighter and in a few minutes the full moon would be completely set.

He always thought about Tala on these nights, wondering where she was and if she was doing okay.

He suddenly gasps and slams on the brakes of his pickup as he rounds a bend and sees a massive wolf standing in the middle of the road. The animal hardly looks up at him, staring at something on the ground in front of it and it takes Aaron a moment to take in the coiled up snake barely 4 feet away from it.

He climbs out of his truck, hearing the rattle of the snake's tail.

The wolf still doesn't move. Aaron sighs, reaching under his seat for the pistol he kept there. You never could be too safe living in Colorado.

He shakes his head, forcing himself awake as he uses two hands to aim. He pulls the trigger and the shot echoes through the forest.

The wolf collapses in relief as the bullet tears through the snake's head, killing it instantly.

Aaron rushes over, afraid he'd missed and hit the wolf instead. He stops as the moon sets and the wolf before him shifts, becoming human. He takes in her pale blond hair and the ice blue eyes.

"Tala?" he says.

She looks up at him for the first time. "Aaron?"

[purplebass-writes]

Burn my Blood // Original WIP

Format: @revolutionarywriters​ event 3: “Ruthlessness”

Here it is, the prologue to my original wip! It’s going to be a fantasy/paranormal romance story with witches. For the moment I am still figuring the story and the characters, but I will update my writeblr with info as soon as I’m writing more. I hope you enjoy!

Genre: Fantasy, Paranormal Romance Rating: T, tw: mentions of blood and death Words: 1,010

A scream pierced the square in two, and all of the people gathered in front of the royal palace stared at the source.

Fenella Mills loved the attention, above all during this occasion. She wasn’t looking at anyone in particular but they all watched her, fascinated by the way the guard had lit the match and it soon started a small fire under her. The flames danced at her bare feet but they were not enveloping her lithe figure yet. A guard had tied Fenella to a wooden pole with her hands bound behind her back. This could have been bearable if the lower parts of the body were the only ones to suffer. But of course, to establish power, one could not stop to that. To expect people to fear you, you need to show them fear.

Fenella had heard stories, until she witnessed firsthand how the ruthless people who controlled her small city took delight in seeing their victims being consumed ever so slowly by the blazes of red and orange. It was the day her brother crumbled in front of her and she couldn’t do anything to save him. Least of all use her magic. No, her brother Elmer forbade her. “They will get you too, Fenny. You can’t afford do die, no. You can’t die.”

If only he could see her now.

The first part to burn were the feet. The lawless were placed on a carpet of burning coals. They could not run anywhere to seek relief. The king openly told his people that he took pleasure in seeing the depraved trying to jump on the spot, not to let their soles hurt. To run away. There were some, like Fenella’s brother, who believed that the punishment was just that. He had only stolen a loaf of bread to eat because they were starving, after all. He never would have thought…

The Sheridan royal guard put two coals in Fenella’s hands, reminding the young woman of the next step in their torturing game. Because that was what it was to the Sheridan royals. It was a game. Entertainment.

Fenella felt her palms heat up but her hands were soon wrapped in a narrow piece of cotton to prevent her from dropping the carbon on the ground. She closed her eyes, and tried to concentrate on the fresh air which enveloped the place for some reason. That day didn’t smell like death to her. Instead, it reminded her of other things, like doves, butterflies, sparks. Her eyes snapped open and she glanced down. The sparks.

They were finally at the best part, the moment when it all went down in flames. Literally.

Fenella saw the flickers of fire growing from the ground at once. Unlike the coals that were causing severe harm to her feet, these flares were a deep red and scorching. They were making her blood boil. What the guards and the Sheridan family alike did not know was that was her aim.

She wanted to burn.

Once the flames devoured half her body and were about to eat her whole figure, Fenella started to laugh. Like her previous scream, it tore the silent square and elicited puzzled expressions from the unmoving onlookers. She gazed at one of the guards. He stood there, petrified, unaware of how he should react to that. Fenella was at least pleased that the man seemed as pained as the rest of the crowd, which meant that it was high time that this exhibition of corpses had to end.

Your blood will free your people.

As the fire broke Fenella’s body apart, the only thing she could think about was her town’s safety. Her brother knew of her gift. He knew that she had witch blood, and that, according to the prophecy, it would liberate the people of Chilcro. She was her people’s only key to freedom, but there was a catch. She needed to die first.

Fenella’s laugh echoed through the narrow alleyways, through the houses, through the gardens of the royal palace at her back where she was sure the royals were listening. It reverberated until it was no more. Her head lulled back, hit the pole, then fell forward. The flames were still dancing around her body, but the heat was gone. When somebody died, the first missing detail of life is the lack of warmth.

The guards threw water on Fenella’s corpse but they didn’t untie her from the spot. No, her body would be left in full display for at least a night before she would be thrown in a mass grave and forgotten. Or that was what they thought.

On the morning of the following day, two guards had the order to remove Fenella’s corpse. When they reached the pole, although, there was no body to discard. Not even the hint of a decaying carcass, let alone, black ashes. The two men exchanged a look and cleaned the ground to prepare it for the next execution. They pretended that they did the task as their king wanted them to, but they just didn’t want to suffer Fenella’s fate. They still wanted to live.

So did the young woman.

Fenella didn’t know how it happened, but a few hours after her execution, she woke up. She looked around to see where she was, and she remembered everything. They burnt her. She died. Why was she wide awake? It didn’t count in that moment. She had to flee. Escape. The first thing she did was untie her hands. Which, as it ironic as it was, were the only parts of her body bound by something. But the Sheridans didn’t expect a dead person to survive, right?

Fenella didn’t know what had happened to me, nor how. She was grateful to be alive. Soon, the Sheridan royal family would not. This gave her the chance to execute her plan. Because she would get her revenge. And then, their blood will sing for her. For Elmar. For all of the innocents they had already killed.

I promise.

[asgardianthembo]

Hear me out: A vampire hunter and a vampire fall in love.

Because THIS is the romance we need.

[thephoenixlitjournal]

Niche Nook: The Violet Eden Chapters by Jessica Shirvington

Review by Morgan Ingram

Let me preface this review with a request to the reader: Let go of everything you expect from the Young Adult Paranormal Romance genre. Just let it go. You don’t need it here.

The Violet Eden Chapters by Jessica Shirvington begins with book 1, Embrace. I was introduced to the head strong (however swooning) main character, Violet Eden, who I found highly relatable and charismatic from the beginning. Violet has some serious past trauma, but it doesn’t define her entire character. She is also an artist who has ambitions for her education and talent. The discovery that she is a Nephilim (an angelic creature), and thus a defender of humans, and thus mythically soul-bound to the man she loves in a way that is supposed to be completely platonic kind of throws a wrench in those plans. Violet becomes a triumphant heroine as her life as she knows it is thrown into a mythological blender and scattered across the world. All she knows at the beginning of this beautifully orchestrated series is that her best friend, Lincoln, is hiding something from her and she is determined to uncover the truth about Lincoln, the world, and her own identity. By the end of this series, she has transcended her role as a learner and become the beacon of strength that the race of Nephilim desperately needs. This is a story of creating a love that is healthy, consensual, and impenetrable to even the greatest of forces. This is a story of growth as a woman, as a leader, and as a lover. This is a story of sacrifice in every definition of the word. You will be positively invigorated by the triumphs of Violet. You will mourn her losses, and beam at her victories.

        For the drama-cravers, prepare to indulge in a wicked, tantalizing (heterosexual) love-triangle that will have you enthralled. For the action-loving thrill-seekers, get ready for some epic battle and combat scenes that will have you vigorously flipping pages. For those history buffs and theology majors who are fascinated by biblical mythology, you will be precisely in your element to apply your knowledge. For those who have a special bookshelf for feminist characters, Violet Eden makes the cut with her grit, strength, wit and leadership.

        There are many characters in this series and all of them will give the reader a sentiment to be cherished. There are characters who do not speak English, Characters who are explicitly part of the LGBTQ+ community. Characters who are traumatized. Characters who defy stereotypes. Seemingly irredeemable characters who you will still ache for in months and years after the last back cover has long since closed. Be ready to fall in love. Be ready to be proud of them. Be ready to see yourself in every one of them. Be ready to wish you could leave the world in which you live behind for another.  

        Shirvington has artfully orchestrated all these characters and plots with more than just the story in mind. She has, like a careful seam-hand, pulled the threads of free will, consent, trust, and honor through the entire series, weaving ruminative wisdoms into each chapter. Every book is consistent with the themes and touchstones Shirvington has incorporated. Even though I read this series in my early 20’s, I would have resonated with the lessons it gave me at ages 13, 16, 18, and probably the rest of my life. Having said that, this YA fiction should not be missed by those who enjoy the more mature themes in the genre, as this series will give you what you are looking for. It challenges the meaning of love and reminds us of how dangerously close to hate that emotional phenomenon can tread.

Read The Violet Eden Chapters, and you will reach many epiphanies about what it means to be human. I hope Violet’s story gives you what you need from it. I recommend it so adamantly because I believe it will give you exactly that.

Favorite Quote: “Love will kill us all.” – Phoenix (Shirvington, Emblaze)

Favorite Scene: Empower (Book 5)  Pages 432 - 433

[blog-sliverofjade]

Hearth Fires 4: From the Mouths of Babes

Pairing: Remi Denier x OFC

Summary:  Lorel Maddox just wants to live as a human, run her bakery in peace, and forget. Unfortunately, the alpha of the local leopard pack has very different ideas.

Remi Denier doesn’t know what to make of the female Changeling who wants nothing to do with him or the RainFire pack. He does know that he has a driving need to protect her. Even if it’s from herself.

While they’re embroiled in a battle of wills, there’s a war brewing on the horizon. The outside threat could not only destroy everything they hold dear, but tear apart the fragile new bonds of the Trinity Accord, plunging the world into bloodshed to rival the Territorial Wars of centuries past.

Word count: 2174

Hearth Fires Masterlist

Beta read by the sublime pandabearer

        Lorel started to demand to know how much RainFire knew about her past and how they knew, but the sound of a branch cracking overhead had her looking up.  Instinct had her on her feet and catching the cub that tumbled out of the tree.

        She stared at the small leopard with wide eyes; light green eyes as large as saucers stared back while golden hickory leaves rained down around them.  The part of her that was still a scared little girl braced for the inevitable recrimination for the display of inhuman speed and her ocelot readied to fend off an attack for daring to touch one of their cubs.

        “Good catch.  Jojo here’s still learning what branches can or can’t hold her weight, ” Tien smiled and ruffled the tufts of hair between her daughter’s ears.  She had also leapt into action, although she’d been a few feet farther away.

        Lorel bit back a snarl, an inborn need to curl protectively up around the cub still gripped her hard, but she forced herself to pass the cub to the other woman.  Tiny claws caught in her sweater stopped her. Jojo tried to retract them, and stopped when they threatened to shred the fabric, mewling in what was obviously a plea for help.

        Tien nudged them towards a table and together they extricated Jojo from the cardigan.  Once freed, she placed her forepaws, sans claws, on Lorel’s chest and headbutted her as she purred in thanks.  The warm weight and casual affection of the girl grounded Lorel in her body in a way she hadn’t felt in a very long time.  It felt so right she almost stroked the baby soft fur.

        As tempting as it was to pet the richly patterned coat, she didn’t feel like losing a hand.  She’d heard that predatory Changelings could be violently protective of their offspring. Moreover, she knew that interacting with one, especially in its animal form, was a slippery slope away from what it meant to be human.  She could feel her own cat rising to the surface, brushing insistently at the inside of her skin. Soon, she knew it would punish her with claws and teeth for denying it’s needs.

        Jojo, however, had different ideas.  A fluffy head nudged at her hand, a tiny whiskered nose squirming under her fingers.  Lorel gave into the urge and gently worked her nails between the ears that seemed too large for the little head.  Jojo purred and arched into the attention, her paws doing a slow dance like she wanted to knead at Lorel’s lap, but was too well-mannered to do so.

        A lump formed in her throat.  Had she once been this small and trusting?  Had she ever been this loved and cared for? Vague but colourful memories, like an impressionist painting, surfaced with the happy echoes of a childhood long past.

        She felt the eyes of every adult watching her, either overtly or in darting glances.  They would kill her before she could hurt Jojo. That watchfulness was somehow reassuring.  They’d embraced their savagery to protect their youngest and that, paradoxically, allowed her to relax.  While she would never intentionally harm a child, she wasn’t so certain about her other half; she only knew she shouldn’t trust it.

        A sandy-haired man in a blue plaid shirt set a few plates of food on the table and leaned down to press a kiss to Tien’s lips when she tilted her head up in welcome.  It was more than a quick peck. When his hand cupped the nape of her neck, Lorel averted her eyes. While the festivities certainly weren’t orgies like in the sordid tales with which she'd been regaled, the open affection was more than she was used to.

        Jojo stood with her forepaws on the table, her nose twitching at the scent of the food, and reached out with one claw to snag a cookie.

        “Hands for cookies,” Tien said as if it were an oft-repeated admonition.

        A shower of multi-coloured sparks burst in Lorel’s lap; she froze for fear of interfering with the shift.  An instant later, there was a naked girl sitting on her knee. Lorel shrugged out of her cardigan and helped Jojo into it.  The soft yellow hem fell to her knees. Lorel glanced at Tien and her partner. Neither of them appeared as if anything was out of the ordinary, no cutting rebukes or punishment for being nude where others could see.  There was a twinge in her heart from memories of a very different childhood.

        “This is my mate, Avery.”  Tien gestured to the man who had joined them.

        Lorel was thrown by the term.  “Mate” was such a primal word that it threatened to bring a flush to her cheeks.  She didn’t have time to mull it over because Avery offered a hand as he sat next to his… wife.

        “Nice to meet you.  Please eat.” He smiled and nudged a plate arranged with crispy bread and some sort of creamy dip towards her.  Meanwhile, Tien had moved the cookies away from Jojo and pushed the crudite, also arranged to be shared communally, in front of her.

        Lorel opened her mouth to politely refuse, but Jojo offered up a stalk of broccoli.  She couldn’t say no to that earnest expression. Making “nomnom” noises, Lorel carefully snatched the vegetable with her teeth, making the girl giggle.

        Allowing herself to relax, Lorel sat back and took the chance to look around at the people chatting, playing, and laughing. Several of the leopards looked back.  No one hid their open curiosity, but they didn’t stare either. At least they didn’t swarm her, although she suspected that if Tien wasn’t there then all bets were off.

        They all seemed so... human.  No one licked their lips over the grilling meat.  Perhaps it was too well-done to salivate over? At least they didn’t have a bloody carcass roasting in a pit.  While she was no vegetarian (her physiology couldn’t handle a no-meat diet), she couldn’t have stomached such a barbaric display.

        “Not what you expected?” asked Tien.

        “Not really,” she admitted.  “I know RainFire’s only a few years old, how did you get this many members?”

        “Well, Remi met some of us, like Lark and Theo, when he was roaming.  Some of the sentinels, and our healer, Finn, came from packs where there weren’t many opportunities for them.”  Lorel blinked at the blithe reference to soldiers, as if their occupations were something as prosaic as accountants or teachers.  That was the darker side they tried to hide, the violence hidden with a thin veneer of humanity. “Avery and I lived on our own until I got pregnant with Jojo; we wanted her to grow up in a pack like we did.  We put our feelers out among our friends and family and heard about RainFire.”

        The contentment pouring off the couple made Lorel want to wrinkle her nose.  She knew it was all a lie: love, loyalty, family. Scratch the surface and it was all illusion.  They were like everyone else, only with a public façade to lure in others. She wasn’t going to fall for that again.

        “And how many were press-ganged?” she muttered under her breath.

        Being accustomed to humans and Psy, Lorel had forgotten that the leopards had hearing as sharp as her own until she caught the twin glares cast her way.

        “He said he didn’t fall, he was attacked by invisible ninja.  I asked, ‘Isn’t invisible ninja redundant?’”

        Remi was only listening with half an ear to Hugo’s story of how Jasper had broken his arm while his eyes tracked Lorelei’s every move.  His leopard was restless at having an outsider in their midst. It hadn’t even reacted this strongly when he’d rescued two half-drowned Psy assassins, unarguably among the most lethal people on the planet.  Then again, neither of them were as beautiful as the ocelot.

        She was short with curves like a winding back road that he wanted to explore.  The cat wanted to memorize what she smelled like without her bakery mixing with it.  Underneath the acrid layer of fear, which was lessening now that Tien had gotten her talking, she smelled sweet with a bite of spice.

        He had to force himself to back off.  The need to shadow the virtual stranger in their midst was riding him hard, no matter that she appeared about as dangerous and as delicious as one of her cupcakes in that mint green dress.  Her flats, while practical indoors, sank into the thick carpet of leaves. Nor did she wear anything warmer than a butter yellow cardigan. While she was a Changeling and would be fine, most cats preferred to be warm.  He was wearing a forest-green cashmere sweater himself because he liked the texture of it, not because he was cold.

        Judging by her clothing, she hadn’t known what to expect, or no one had told her that she was a guest.  He cast a sideways glance at Elijah, who gave an unrepentant shrug.

        “No bear tactics involved.”  The soldier held up his hands as if to ward off a chewing out.  “All cat. But Tien might have forgotten to tell her she was invited.”  Remi and his cat were amused at their strategy. A pack circle event was meant to reinforce bonds: and thus, were perfect for introducing someone to the benefits of pack life.

        “That’s smart, so I know you weren’t the brains behind the operation.”

        “Au contraire.”  He pronounced it "ow contrary."  Remi rolled his eyes.  Elijah spoke several languages to varying degrees of fluency, but he liked to butcher French just to yank his alpha’s chain.  “I said we should place an order for the party, Tien and Avery took it from there. So really it was all my idea.”

        Remi started to formulate a quip, but stopped at the sound of Tien’s voice vibrating with anger that carried under the ambient noise.  He shifted towards the dominant maternal to hear her better.

        “…here because we want to be.”

        Lorelei’s response was a murmur that not even his sharp ears could pick up, but whatever it was, it cooled Tien’s temper.

        “We can’t let a predatory Changeling live within our borders,” she explained.  A thread of surprise wound through her words, like she hadn’t imagined that someone of their race could be ignorant of their laws, but she was as patient as if she was addressing the juveniles. “There are some who’d assume that meant we can’t hold our territory and would press the issue.  We’re not big or strong enough yet for that.”

        Pride swelled and ebbed within him.  Tien was a damn fine dominant maternal and he’d never regretted allowing her and her family to join the pack.  It was the sting of shame that tempered that pride. Most alphas, if they grew up in a functional pack, were carefully guided from a young age.  Remi partly blamed that lack of formative education for having waited so long before developing his own pack.

        If he’d started building RainFire earlier, then they could have weathered the turbulence that was the fall of Silence and the subsequent restructuring of the world better.  And he wouldn’t have had to deliver an ultimatum to a single submissive Changeling whose only mistake was to live on land they needed to claim.

        He huffed a laugh that brought him out of the pity party for one.  Once, being alpha of his own pack was unthinkable to him. Sometimes he looked around at his people and what they’d built together and felt as bemused as Lorelei looked.  Now he was kicking his own ass for not starting sooner. Fate was no doubt having a laugh at him.

        “…dominants are driven to protect,” Avery explained.  “…sives…” The male was no doubt explaining the hierarchy to her.  Really, it should have come as no surprise that she was unfamiliar with the power structure, but he’d assumed that she knew instinctually.  Then again, he of all people should know that instincts didn’t always coincide with what experience taught.

        Taking a drink of his beer, he turned to catch a glimpse of the small group.  Lorelei looked down at Jojo with an abashed expression. She had looped her arms around the girl to ensure she didn’t tumble off, not that the cub was in any danger of that.

        With the innocent honesty of small children, Jojo wrinkled her nose and said, “You smell funny.”

        Lorelei frowned and made a show of sniffing herself.  “I promise I showered today, with soap even.” She feigned confusion and the cub giggled.

        Remi’s blood ran cold.

        The slashes on Jojo’s face were more than an unusual birthmark.  They were the sign of a hunter, someone born with the skills to hunt those of their kind who went rogue, ones who subsumed themselves in their animal half.  Once they lost their humanity, they slaughtered without compunction, beginning with their loved ones.

        And a hunter’s chief ability was scent.

[honeyydoodle]

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