Once a king, and once a slave, can his secrets save his mates? Talen has waited over a century for a mate, and the goddess is generous when she finally grants his wish – she gives him four. It does not take long for Talen to realize that his very long, long life has been spent in training for the arrival of these mates, as he will need every skill at his disposal to not only heal the rift between the Triquetra and Aislen, but to protect them through the coming trouble. The flood waters have brought to Havermouth many threats, and not just in the form of the face-eating former inhabitants of the original abandoned colony of the Havers family. When Rhett is infected by the zombie-making virus, Talen, Aislen, and the Triquetra seek the help of the mysterious warlock Leighton and his family, just as the town fills with black-clad, armed men who call themselves the National Emergency Service... But they aren’t there to help Havermouth recover from the storm. Will Talen’s wisdom and wealth of experience, help save his mates from the dangers of Havermouth? Trigger warnings for this book: this is a dark romance werewolf story containing dubious consent, violence, and assault.
View MoreHavermouth, Present Time Aislen hit her head hard on the floorboards and lay for a moment with white noise ringing in her ears, staring sightlessly up at the beams of the roof. Her entire body ached. She could feel the sharp sting of the cuts across her torso and the wetness of her blood, and she knew that she was dying. She groaned and put her hand to her chest, surprised to encounter cloth and not skin, and lifted her hand, wondering at how it was not covered in blood and what the black chalkiness was that stained her skin. She slowly lowered her chin to her chest. There were no wounds. Oh, yeah, she wasn’t the one bleeding... The thoughts rolled through her mind in slow motion, as if she was thinking through treacle. “Shit,” she groaned. “Heath!” Where were her mates? “Cameron, and Talen,” she whispered, closing her eyes and then opening them again, her vision focusing, the beams coming into focus. She was on the floor of Leighton’s workspace, she realized, and recalled the salt
Havermouth, Present TimeCameron cried out and threw his arms around Rhett, gripping him tightly before catching his face between his hand and kissing him with a thoroughness that left Rhett breathless until the bathroom door suddenly opened, and he released him out of habit, both men breathing heavily as they stared at the startled intruder.“Ah, sorry,” Will Peters was wide eyed. “I can wait…” He backed out letting the door swing shut behind him.“Shit. Oh well, I’m not hiding anymore,” Cameron shrugged, turning back to Rhett, and pulling him back into his arms. “I’m so happy to see you. And you’re looking so much better. Skinny. But better.”“Wow, Cam,” Rhett laughed. “I should come to the rescue more often. Hey there’s power on here!” He added squinting up at the neon lights. “Who would have thought I’d be happy to see the flicker of neon again.”“Did Aislen send you?” Cameron asked, leaning back in order to look at him. “Did she do one of those portal thingies? Where’s Heath? And
Havermouth, Two Weeks BeforeHeath Gale and Rhett Salem, Talen turned the names over in his mind as he reviewed the details that Tony had sent through to him on his laptop. In one of those twists of little towns, Heath Gale owned the firm that handled some of Zeus’ legal work. A lawyer.Well, that explained the expensive suits and impeccable grooming.Young, he observed, lifting his eyebrows as he saw the date of birth. Young and rich. The rich wasn’t a surprise, most of the werewolf families did well by themselves, but this young man did better than most. Lived just outside of Havermouth, in a heritage home owned by another pack family, the Edison’s.Rhett Salem, the sexy tattoo artist, owned the tattoo parlor in town and made more than a decent living from the business, though the bulk of his wealth had been inherited.“Hmm,” Talen tilted his head and flicked back to Heath’s file.They lived at the same address. Interesting. But not necessarily remarkable, he decided. Young men ofte
Havermouth, Two Weeks Before “I already knew what you all were, and I didn’t tell anyone.” Aislen finished her glass and held it out for Heath to refill.“Yeah, Rhett said that.” Cameron looked at Rhett.“If the pack knew that, though,” Rhett explained. “They would decide that you were too great a risk and kill you anyway, so we couldn’t let them know about that…”“And we couldn’t talk about it with you without breaking werewolf law,” Heath told Aislen. “Until you were officially ours, officially recognized as part of the pack, we could not openly talk about ourselves to you, or show you…”“I’m not part of the pack, or yours now,” she pointed out.“No, but things have changed,” Rhett let his hair fall over his face, avoiding looking at Heath. “You are in danger.”“You were an idiot,” Heath sighed out his frustration. “Arrogant and prideful as always and decided to show off what you knew with that f-king Secret Keeper poem.”“When you came back to Havermouth, we had another chance, be
Havermouth, Two Weeks Before The necklace around her neck was held together by a padlock. Heath hadn’t noticed it at Rhett’s tattoo parlor – things had happened so quickly, and he had been so angry, it was no wonder that the details of her outfit had skipped his notice. But he had seen it the moment they’d entered the kitchen, noting the workmanship of it and the glitter of diamonds.A love token from the vampire, he had decided straight away. It wasn’t until they were sitting across the table from each other and the infinity knot had slipped to the side, that he’d seen the padlock holding it closed at the rear. A tiny padlock, but a significant one. The necklace wasn’t a lover’s token but rather a declaration of ownership.Considering how the vampire had defended her against Heath the evening before, he wasn’t surprised that he had made sure to mark Aislen as his. A warning to Heath to back off, and a notice that the vampire intended to continue his pursuit of Aislen.Heath wasn’t s
Havermouth, Two Weeks BeforeJules leaned against the fence and wiped his brow on the back of his sleeve. “That’s done then,” he decided his eyes on the indignant wet sheep in the holding pen. They’d spent the day putting this part of the herd through the dip – a process that Rhett always found comical when he was drafted in to help, enjoying the complaints of the sheep as they treaded dosed water before being drained and released into the pen.Cameron had left him in bed that morning, however, as Rhett wasn’t himself. The sex the night before had been… strange. It had held shadows of the early part of the last five years, when sex between the Triquetra had been about hurting each other as much as getting off. Rhett hadn’t hurt Cameron precisely, but Cameron had known that the sex hadn’t been about him, although he was the recipient, but about Aislen.“Yeah,” Cameron agreed. “I’ll grab a shower, change and head home.” He headed towards the house.Jules checked the gate before followin
Havermouth, Two Weeks BeforeRhett couldn’t concentrate, so it was lucky that he didn’t have any clients booked – he had cleared his schedule anticipating that they would still be at the river house with Aislen. He pottered aimlessly in his office as a result, shuffling paperwork that he didn’t have the focus to read, and collecting up the empty coffee cups that clustered on every surface, pulling his face at those which had a skin of green over them.Coffee was a good idea, he decided, and the walk to Boyston’s and back would clear his mind, even if the trip risked him bumping into Heath. His blond mate had returned from work the night before in a foul mood having broken his own rules and gone to see Aislen, only to find the vampire already there.Rhett was the only one who hadn’t broken the rules so far, as Cameron had come knocking on his door the previous afternoon, still sweating from his run and reeking of sex with Aislen. Rhett had been trying to do something constructive with
Concordia, Eleven Hundred Years Before Thorarin looked out from the top of the sand dune. “A kings worth is measured not by his success on the battlefield during times of war, but in his daily judgements. It is too easy, my son, for a man to overlook the day-to-day in seeking glory, but the true glory of a ruler lies not in the battles won, but in the actions that he takes during peace time.” “Father,” Thaelen’s voice caught in his throat as he watched the wind string out Thorarin’s hair, the colored beads arranged in a pattern that only Abara had ever mastered and had taken to the grave with her. “How did you die? I must… I need to know. Were you…” He closed his eyes on the tears that burnt there, but they escaped anyway, sliding down his cheeks and into his beard. “Was it peaceful?” “Is death ever peaceful, Thaelen?” Thorarin replied without looking at him. “Especially for immortals such as we are? But, yes, perhaps. I recall little of it. We drank… and slept, and there was no mor
Concordia, Eleven Hundred Years BeforeThaelen was pleased to see Gyrd and his son leave through the stronghold gate as Thaelen led his army within the range of the archers on the walls of Gyrd’s stronghold – a move that required confidence that Gyrd would not turn traitor and shoot them from behind. The Lord’s presence was reassurance that treachery was not planned although the archers remained at alert, the top of the wall bristling with their strung bows.“My king,” Gyrd bowed. “You are a welcome sight to behold in the Gulgane armor.”“Gyrd,” Thaelen reached out to clasp the Lord’s arm. “And Timal,” he greeted Gyrd’s son and heir. “I thank you for your loyalty to the Gulgane family, and for holding this stronghold against the invading humans.”They turned to regard the campsite. The distance made the details difficult to make out, however there was no gathering of men, no readying of the siege machines that they had been constructing, and minimal activity. Thaelen narrowed his eyes
** Please note, I am not a historian, and this is not an accurate depiction of the past, but a fantasy version in an alternative world very similar to our own - Happy Reading :-) **The Concordia, Twelve Hundred Years Before (Give or Take a Century)Swords in hand, the brave and noble soldiers crept up the rampart, conquering the fortifications of the enemy, and creeping closer to the stronghold castle, skirting the chickens who fossicked through the dirt for their breakfast, and keeping belly to ground in order not to be spotted as they reached the peak.“I see them,” Thaelen whispered, his blond hair blowing forward over his dirt smeared face. His features still held the roundness of youth, only just beginning to reveal the strong lines of adulthood. “Crouched over there, behind the wooden barrels.”The three other boys, designated enemy soldiers by the game, clutched wooden practice swords and crouched between barrels and the wooden wall fortification. The women and men who maintai
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