EXCERPT included below
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Despite the animosity between their species, shapeshifter Tanner Lyons rescues Lightbearer princess Olivia Bennett and heads cross-country to return her safely to her magically hidden home. Easy enough, if only his heart would stop suggesting crazy ideas like slipping down to the beach and stripping her naked and…
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~ ~ ~ EXCERPT ~ ~ ~
The Lightbearer walked as if she were royalty. She held her head high and refused to avert her gaze, while the crowd of shifters stared at her as if she were a freak show at the circus. Her blonde hair was still disheveled and dirty, her face and arms were scratched, indicative of a fight before she’d been subdued, and her dress was torn and stained. Yet she walked as if she were treading on a plush velvet carpet, as if she wore an elegant gown and headed toward her rightful place on a throne.
Tanner’s respect level ratcheted up a notch. I have to save this woman.
The gathered shifters gasped and made small shrieking noises before they began chattering amongst themselves. The noise rose to a low roar, until Quentin called for quiet.
“Yes,” he said, with glowing eyes and a great flourish of his arm. “It is what you think it is. A Lightbearer. All these years I have searched. I have never given up. And I was right!” His voice rose to a shout as the excitement level of the crowd increased with his words.
Quentin expounded some more on his decades-long search for the Lightbearers. Through it all, the Lightbearer remained stoic, standing with her back ramrod straight, her eyes staring into the crowd, her face a blank mask.
“My son,” he said as he waved his arm in Tanner’s direction.
Tanner’s only acknowledgement of the introduction was to step up onto the wide front porch. He walked over to the Lightbearer and stood next to her. She did not even glance his way. Stubborn. As far as she was aware, he was her only friend among a pack of wolves—literally—and she didn’t even give him so much as a frown of acknowledgement.
His respect level rose again.
“My son, my blood. My heir. Tanner Lyons is to be your next pack master. But first, he will demonstrate his loyalty to the pack by killing this Lightbearer. And when he does, he will inherit her magic. He will be the most powerful shifter of all time. My son!” His voice rose to a shout again as the Lightbearer jerked her head around to finally greet Tanner with an angry glare.
This wasn’t my idea, he wanted to shout at her. Instead, he stepped closer to her, so that they were an arm’s length apart. The pack of shifters, encouraged by Quentin, were clapping and shouting their encouragement for Tanner to kill the Lightbearer.
“I don’t suppose you have the ability to disappear, do you?” he asked in a low voice that only she could hear over the din.
She glared up at him and said, “Hardly,” in an impressively haughty voice.
“Can you create a gun? Bomb? Smoke screen? Anything we can use as a distraction so we can get the hell out of here?”
Her eyes widened. “You don’t want to kill me?”
Tanner’s eyes narrowed. “Of course I don’t want to kill you. I thought we’d already established this?”
“I’m not quite in a position to believe such a thing, at the moment.”
“What’s your name?” he asked abruptly.
She glared silently for a moment, and then apparently deciding she had nothing left to lose, she murmured, “Olivia. Olivia Bennett.”
“Well, Olivia Bennett, I promise you, I do not want to kill you. Unlike the pack master, I happen to have moral issues with killing people in cold blood. And I don’t really give a rat’s ass about your magic. You have about three seconds to choose to believe me.”
Tanner’s respect level ratcheted up a notch. I have to save this woman.
The gathered shifters gasped and made small shrieking noises before they began chattering amongst themselves. The noise rose to a low roar, until Quentin called for quiet.
“Yes,” he said, with glowing eyes and a great flourish of his arm. “It is what you think it is. A Lightbearer. All these years I have searched. I have never given up. And I was right!” His voice rose to a shout as the excitement level of the crowd increased with his words.
Quentin expounded some more on his decades-long search for the Lightbearers. Through it all, the Lightbearer remained stoic, standing with her back ramrod straight, her eyes staring into the crowd, her face a blank mask.
“My son,” he said as he waved his arm in Tanner’s direction.
Tanner’s only acknowledgement of the introduction was to step up onto the wide front porch. He walked over to the Lightbearer and stood next to her. She did not even glance his way. Stubborn. As far as she was aware, he was her only friend among a pack of wolves—literally—and she didn’t even give him so much as a frown of acknowledgement.
His respect level rose again.
“My son, my blood. My heir. Tanner Lyons is to be your next pack master. But first, he will demonstrate his loyalty to the pack by killing this Lightbearer. And when he does, he will inherit her magic. He will be the most powerful shifter of all time. My son!” His voice rose to a shout again as the Lightbearer jerked her head around to finally greet Tanner with an angry glare.
This wasn’t my idea, he wanted to shout at her. Instead, he stepped closer to her, so that they were an arm’s length apart. The pack of shifters, encouraged by Quentin, were clapping and shouting their encouragement for Tanner to kill the Lightbearer.
“I don’t suppose you have the ability to disappear, do you?” he asked in a low voice that only she could hear over the din.
She glared up at him and said, “Hardly,” in an impressively haughty voice.
“Can you create a gun? Bomb? Smoke screen? Anything we can use as a distraction so we can get the hell out of here?”
Her eyes widened. “You don’t want to kill me?”
Tanner’s eyes narrowed. “Of course I don’t want to kill you. I thought we’d already established this?”
“I’m not quite in a position to believe such a thing, at the moment.”
“What’s your name?” he asked abruptly.
She glared silently for a moment, and then apparently deciding she had nothing left to lose, she murmured, “Olivia. Olivia Bennett.”
“Well, Olivia Bennett, I promise you, I do not want to kill you. Unlike the pack master, I happen to have moral issues with killing people in cold blood. And I don’t really give a rat’s ass about your magic. You have about three seconds to choose to believe me.”