Crystal Jordan

Walk on the Wild Side of Romance

Crystal Jordan

Walk on the Wild Side of Romance

In Heat

by | Mar 4, 2024

Mahlia is a snow tigress in heat and now that her tiger king has returned to rule the planet Vesperi, she can no longer deny her desperate need to mate. She greets him as a woman, but their desire for sex is uncontrollable as they come together with a primal passion.

Note: This story was previously published as part of the Carnal Desires anthology.

Published:
Publisher: CJ Books (https://www.cjbooks.com)
Editors:
Twin Tweaks Editing (Website)
Cover Artists:
Getcovers (Website)
Genres:
Paranormal/Shape-Shifters, Sci-Fi/Futuristic
Tags:
Short Story
Excerpt:

The snow tigress was in heat.

His nostrils flared. He could smell her desire from across the ballroom. Her scent called to him, tempting him to cast off the veneer of civility and take her in any way he could.

Mahlia Najla Mohan.

His mate.

Longing warred with sadness at the thought of her. Of their lost child. Pain exploded in his chest, choking him. No. He would not think of that. He could not. The agony would drive him to his knees.

"Amir Varad." His manservant's voice pulled him back to the present. Varad pasted a charming smile on his face, appearing the besotted male who would soon have his mate begging him for the surcease only he could grant her. And possibly conceiving an heir to the Vesperi throne. A new heir.

"Welcome back, brother." Taymullah's hand clapped on his shoulder.

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Varad quirked a brow at the shorter man. And he was a man; the boy he'd left behind six months ago had grown into someone Varad hardly recognized. The last half Turn had been a difficult time for all of his family.

Taymullah's face settled into serious lines as he turned to look over at his brother's mate, Mahlia. "You have a great deal of work before you, Varad."

"I know."

Varad swallowed, his gaze tracking her movement. Mating on Vesperi was a complicated affair, only lasting from a woman's heat cycle to the next. Because Varad was here, no one would touch his woman. Had he not returned in time, it would have been a different tale. However, she could always choose to mate away from him. His gut clenched. No. Mahlia was his. Had been his since the moment he'd looked into her ice-blue eyes, so rare among his people. His treasure. She would have no other for as long as they both lived. Whatever tragedy they shared could not destroy the depth of emotion that had always pulled them together.

Gods, he was tired. Six months on a spacecraft for the trade run was more than he cared for, but he doubted the werebears on the planet Alysius would trade with anyone except him personally. Lord Kesuk was not a man to trust.

A genuine smile tugged at Varad's lips as he thought of the Arctic Bear clan leader. He wondered how the enormous man had fared after Varad had encouraged the tiny human woman to return to the werebear's caves. The man hadn't stood a chance. Lady Jain would have seen to it. Varad's grin widened. Mahlia would like Jain immensely.

And Kesuk would try to kill him when Varad returned next Turn, no matter how happy the werebear lord was with his lady. It would be an interesting fight. Varad flicked a barely visible piece of lint from his sleeve as he wondered who might be the winner. A tiger versus a bear. Yes, interesting.

He shook his head, marveling again that a spaceship could have drifted among the stars since before the Earthan sun had died. Two unaltered humans, Lady Jain and a young scientist, Sera, had survived a crash landing on the werebear planet. Humans were extinct now, having had no way to survive the harsh environments of the four colonized planets. Only gene-splicing with different animal species had made it possible for humans to survive at all.

He wondered how the two women would fare. Lady Jain had her new Bear clan to contend with, but Sera had insisted on journeying to Aquatilis, the planet that maintained the greatest level of technology from old Earth. He suspected her choice had more to do with her fascination for a certain merman ambassador than her need for machines.

"Amir, your guests await you." Varad's valet bared his teeth a bit at the word guests. Varad chuckled as he descended the curving staircase from the wide balcony. Unlike Taymullah, one of the few who had supported Varad's expeditions, his manservant disapproved of the trade relations with Alysius.

"Well, we shouldn't disappoint our valued visitors." A warning was in Varad's tone. He was the king here, the Amir, and his wishes would be obeyed by all. If he bore the responsibility of leadership, he demanded the respect that came with the position.

"Yes, my Amir." His servant bowed and backed away.

Trade had always been maintained between Vesperi and the Harenan weredragons, but many had thought Varad mad when he set out to find the other two planets. It had been a risk, he admitted. But what was life without risk? None could deny that the new flood of goods from the werebears and merpeople were good for all four planets. No matter how much his doubters might like to protest. He tried to cover his laugh in a discreet cough.

He sobered abruptly, the grin falling away from his face. Many of his people agreed that trading with the seemingly barbaric werebears was a mistake. They were a rough people, but he'd grown to respect them, especially Lord Kesuk. He sighed, the weight of his responsibilities riding heavily on his shoulders. He shrugged as if to shift the burden, but nothing could ease his troubles.

A sweet laugh rippled across the ballroom, and he wasn't the only one who turned to smile at the source. Mahlia. Another challenge to face. Whether it pleased either of them or not, he would soon have her.

The room gleamed with white marble and wildly colored swaths of fabric--all the ostentation a feline could need. He worked his way across the vast ballroom to her side, nodding to his guests, noting the flashing scales of the Harenan weredragons, the imposing bulk of the first Alysian werebear ambassador, the violently colored hair of the Aquatilian merpeople. An interplanetary gathering, just as he had hoped. Excellent. When he reached Mahlia, she was entertaining a merman and the werebear ambassador with a story about her inability to master the waltz as a child.

"Amira Mahlia." Varad's hand stroked down the length of her bare arm, tracing the tan stripes on her creamy skin with a fingertip. He savored the feel of her, enjoying the way her servant had gathered her long cream-and-bronze-striped hair on her head, leaving her shoulders bared in a laced black corset. One of her legs was exposed by the filmy deep-blue skirt slit to her waist. His cock hardened, the need to have her fisting his gut. A deep breath dragged her scent to him yet again. Only because he was so focused on her did he hear the soft catch in her breath before she turned icy blue eyes on him. The natural black lining that surrounded all weretiger eyes made hers stunning.

"Amir Varad." She attempted to curtsy before him, but he quickly squeezed her elbow to keep her upright. Even after a Turn, she was not accustomed to her role in society. Or perhaps she was still uncomfortable with him. It mattered not. His mate would not bow to him. She was his equal--the only true partner he had in his world. He inclined his head to her, and after the briefest of pauses, she followed suit.

"Your Amira was just telling us an amusing story, Amir." The sub-bass rumble of the werebear split the silence; a white smile flashed in his dark face. The hammered metal circlet welded around his massive bicep, a mark of his standing among the Bear clans, glinted in the light from the glowlight chandeliers.

"Yes, the Aquatilians wish you all felicity in your return." The merman's nasal tone and sophisticated speech demonstrated the difference between the merman's culture and that of the werebear. Only Mahlia could have charmed the two into maintaining a peaceful conversation for more than a few minutes.

"Welcome home, Amir." He turned to see Katryn, his mate's closest friend, approaching their group. Her dark hair rippled to her hips, and her golden skin was set off in a stunning white gown reminiscent of an ancient Grecian toga. The weredragon was beautiful, but the first thing one noticed about her was the purple scaling that crept from her wrists to her biceps.

Still, no other woman had ever called to him as Mahlia had. Anticipation tensed his muscles. Soon. Soon he would have her. Would have her legs about him as they rode each other, her slick heat tight on his thrusting cock. He bit back a groan and then traced a finger down the lacings of her corset. Her breath panted as her scent increased, surrounding him, commanding him.

The hunt would begin soon.

COLLAPSE

In Ice

by | Mar 4, 2024

When Jain Roberts' ship crashes on a distant, futuristic planet, she's rescued by Kesuk, the lusty clan leader of the Arctic Bears. This magnificent creature with white-blond hair and a potent masculinity haunts her dreams—dreams he intends to make deliciously real, as he draws her into a realm of complete sexual abandon.

Note: This story was previously published as part of the Sexy Beast V anthology.

Published:
Publisher: CJ Books (https://www.cjbooks.com)
Editors:
Twin Tweaks Editing (Website)
Cover Artists:
Getcovers (Website)
Genres:
Paranormal/Shape-Shifters, Sci-Fi/Futuristic
Tags:
Novella
Excerpt:

“Help me! Please...somebody help.”

Jain's teeth chattered as she scanned the foreign landscape. Snow covered the rocky ground in a thick layer, and massive trees surrounded the clearing on all sides, hemming her in so she couldn't get her bearings. Night began to fall, and the temperature dropped rapidly. Crossing her arms over her breasts, she rubbed her numb hands over her biceps to try and stimulate circulation. God, she was so cold. Ice bit into her legs, scraping the skin away and leaving her feet raw and bleeding.

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She'd been wandering around naked since her ship crashed, and her personal pod had released her from cryogenic freeze. Had anyone else made it out? The ship had held a full crew and one other passenger besides her. It had exploded in a fiery array of reds, yellows, and oranges, but she'd seen no one else from the ship. The roiling smoke had spun through the towering trees and into the afternoon sky in twists of black soot. Since no rescue party had responded to the crash, she assumed she'd landed in an uninhabited area.

“Hellooooo!” Her voice echoed over the frozen landscape.

With each moment that passed, she felt her strength draining, her ability to reason slipping away. She struggled to collect her wandering thoughts, to plan how to save herself. Fading in and out of consciousness, she wondered how much longer she could last without shelter. She had no idea what planet she was on. She should have landed on Aquatilis, where her brother worked as a marine geneticist, but Aquatilis was almost completely covered in water, and she was in the middle of a mountain range. Something had gone seriously wrong. There weren't supposed to be any other inhabitable planets in this solar system, but she could breathe and the gravity was almost normal. Where the hell was she?

Kesuk had seen the fiery explosion in the distance and had come to investigate. His sentries fanned out to surround the clearing. The feud with the Browns had just been settled, but it looked as though they wished to start again. He heaved a weary sigh, his paws crunching through the thick sheet of ice as he drew nearer the inferno. Would they never learn?

Their leaders smiled and bowed to his face while their warriors slaughtered his livestock and stole his women. He slid his tongue over his long fangs, enjoying the idea of catching them breaking the pact. His young daughter might enjoy a Brown slave. A low growl of pleasure rumbled through his chest at the thought. He hadn't started this feud, but he'd finish it.

Relishing the prospect of a good fight, he quickened his pace. Rolling his shoulders, he stretched into a lumbering run, his long strides eating the distance. Pricking his ears, he stayed alert for signs of an ambush.

“Help me.”

The ragged cry sounded to his left, bringing him up short. His breath snorted clouds in the icy air as he waited to hear it again. Padding lightly, he crept between the trees, winding his way toward the origin of the noise.

A woman. A woman unlike any he'd ever seen. Naked, glorious, tiny, her short tufts of brown hair sleek against her skull. Her eyes drew him, greener than the leaves of a Sitka tree. He ran his tongue down a curved canine tooth, eyeing her softly curved form, the thatch of tight dark curls between her slim thighs. Perhaps it was not his daughter who would gain a slave this day. Her sudden appearance and odd coloring demanded he examine her more closely. His men would investigate the explosion and seek him out to report their findings. They knew their duty because he trained them well.

Foolish of her clan to allow her out alone. What was she doing in the borderlands? Her skin was too pale to be a Black or a Brown. He sighed in regret as he drew near. Perhaps she was addled; such birth defects or misfortunes were known to happen. She wandered through the snow, her broken gait and dazed expression making it obvious she would freeze to death. And soon. He raised his nose to the wind, trying to catch her scent. She wasn't of his clan, that much he knew, but she was on his land.

She belonged to him.

COLLAPSE

Reclaimed by the Immortal Viking Bear

by | Mar 4, 2024

Viking god of thunder and bear-shifter Thor has been married to the earth goddess Sif for millennia, but tragedy and betrayal tore them apart long ago. Now husband and wife in name only, they avoid each other when they can and barely tolerate each other when they can’t.

Too bad they’re still in love—though they’d never admit it.

But ancient prophecies are beginning to turn against them, leaving them no more room for misgivings. The apocalypse is coming, and unless they work together, they don’t stand a chance against the enemies they face.

Can they learn to trust again, or will the end of the world consume them both?

Note: this book was previously titled Viking Desire.

Published:
Publisher: CJ Books (https://www.cjbooks.com)
Editors:
Hart to Heart Editing (Website), Twin Tweaks Editing (Website)
Cover Artists:
Getcovers (Website)
Genres:
Paranormal/Shape-Shifters, Suspense/Action Adventure
Tags:
Novella
Excerpt:

“Sif.”

She froze at the sound of her name, one foot inside the door to the guest chambers she used whenever she stayed in her father-in-law’s home. No one should be here when she wasn’t, but her estranged spouse liked to think he was above such rules. “Thor.”

Arms folded over his brawny chest, he leaned back against the footboard, which was carved with ravens and falcons—symbols of his parents, Odin and Freya. The armoire, dressing table, and several tapestries on the walls featured the same animals. But Freya had designated this room for Sif, so the bed’s gold-and-bronze silk canopy and duvet were embroidered with her standard, a rowan tree.

The elegant furnishings only made Thor look that much more rugged and dangerous, the calm before a brewing storm. He was the picture of casual, yet his laser-blue gaze seared into her. One hand rose, his thumbnail rasping over his bearded jaw. “I understand you went over to Earth today.”

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Her heart skipped a beat at the leashed rage in his tone, but she raised her chin and stepped into the suite. How he always knew where she was and when, despite the fact that they rarely spoke anymore, was a source of constant annoyance for her. Why he bothered keeping tabs on her was a mystery she’d never solve.

“I go quite frequently. In fact, I practically live there.” She arched her eyebrows and shut the door. “This may have escaped your notice in the last few millennia, husband, but I’m an earth goddess.”

The sarcasm did nothing to appease his temper, but she had no real interest in appeasing him. As far as anyone in Asgard knew, they had a good marriage, were cordial when together in public, never spoke ill of each other, and had diverse interests that often kept them away from their home at Bilskirnir hall. In reality, they’d had a love-hate relationship for centuries and tried never to be at Bilskirnir at the same time, which was why she was currently “visiting” Valhalla.

Since they’d broken up, they’d mostly just gone about their lives as if they weren’t married—traveling where and when they pleased, spending time in their separate vacation homes, sleeping with whomever they wanted—and it had worked out well enough. They stayed out of each other’s way, but when push came to shove, they were technically still wed.

However, if the ancient prophecies were correct, their marriage was about to come to an end with his death in Ragnarök—the Twilight of the Gods—the apocalyptic battle between gods and giants that would destroy Earth. She’d gone to help those who wanted to stop it, but she doubted Thor would thank her for it.

For all she knew, he was now on the jötunn side, the giants she loathed with every fiber of her being. He wouldn’t be the first major god to switch sides—to decide he could change the prophecy through treachery, thus avoiding his death. Another of the major Viking gods, Frey, had done so, and there was no telling who else would make the same choice.

The bottom line was, she had no idea who she could trust anymore, including her husband.

It was just a shame she still loved him.

Not that she’d ever tell him but, hoping he’d remain loyal to the gods, she’d done what she could to make sure there were warriors to fight beside him when the time came—a group of berserkers lead by Erik Siegfried, the one man the prophecy said would survive the coming battle. The World’s Chosen.

Though if she were completely honest, she’d admit she wanted the giants to lose the fight because one of their kind had murdered Thor’s and her daughter, Thura. Centuries ago, and yet the wound still felt fresh. Not to mention the one giant who’d felt free to put his hands on Sif while she was blitzed out of her mind—the memories of that incident still gave her nightmares. Since both of those events combined had made her marriage implode…why, yes, she’d like every single oversized bastard wiped from the known realms. Maybe a peaceful earth goddess shouldn’t think that way, but she was a Viking. Taking a breath, she tucked her fury away. The future was what she needed to focus on, not the past.

Thor’s nostrils flared and his gaze dropped to her midsection. “Is that blood?”

“Probably.” She tugged at the hem of her T-shirt, seeing a dried, dark smear across the fabric. “There was a battle, as I’m sure your terrifyingly efficient informants have told you. Frey and his giant friends kidnapped a valkyrie—Bryn, Siegfried’s lover—and nearly killed her. Siegfried wasn’t exactly happy about that, and Frey’s dead now. Most of the giants with him too.” Good riddance, but she kept that thought to herself and just provided a bare-bones report of events. “I brought Bryn here to be healed and then took her to the farm she owns in Virginia. Some of her blood must have gotten on me while we teleported.”

A low snarl issued from his throat, the sound more animal than man, the bear inside him coming to the fore. Vikings had often called him Björn or Björn-Thor when he appeared as a massive brown bear before them. Most never saw him shift between forms, but they knew him for who he was—a god, a warrior, a ferocious beast. One whose enemies quaked before him.

Maybe she should have been scared, but she wasn’t. Mostly, she was wired from having witnessed a bloody skirmish, stressed about the end being nigh, and just didn’t have the patience to deal with her irate, possibly treacherous spouse. Rubbing her forehead, she sighed. “I’ve had a long day, Thor. What do you actually want?”

The question seemed to make him even angrier, and his cheeks flushed red. He dropped the casual pose and was across the room in three long strides, backing her against the wall beside the thick wooden door. He loomed over her, his nose a hairsbreadth from hers as he got right in her face. “I want you to stay out of this. You’re no soldier—don’t act like you have any place in a battle.”

Did he want her out of the way because he was worried about her safety, or because he was worried she’d help the gods win? Which side was he on? Either way, her answer was the same. The end of the world was coming, and no one had the luxury of standing on the sidelines. Inaction meant annihilation.

She glared up at him. “I won’t stay out of it and you can’t make me.”

A bit of fang showed when he curled his lip in disgust. “You sound like a petulant child.”

Spank me, then. Another thought she kept to herself. He’d actually take her over his knee, and she’d no doubt enjoy it far more than she should. No matter how crappy their relationship became, the sex was amazing. Chemistry was a bitch that way.

Shoving aside the carnal awareness that filtered through her whenever he was near, she tilted her head toward the door. “If that’s all you have to say, you can go now.”

“Damn you, Sif.” And then his mouth slammed down on hers, an act of possession and dominance that wouldn’t change her mind.

But her body didn’t care about logic. No, her hormones went wild the moment he touched her, just as they always had. Two thousand years, and she still craved this man like an addiction. No matter how she’d fought it, the need was never ending, uncontrollable, consuming. His hard angles fitted to her softer curves, and fire danced over her skin everywhere their bodies met.

COLLAPSE

Reclaimed by the Immortal Viking Wolf

by | Mar 4, 2024

Bryn is many things—valkyrie, shieldmaiden, raven-shifter, horse trainer—but she’s only been a fool for love once. And it had cost her mortal life. She’d done her best to put that stupidity behind her when she’d died a thousand years ago and was reborn an immortal warrior who serves the goddess Freya. Now Bryn hides amongst humans, content with her quiet life in the stables. The goddess hasn’t called for her help in a century or more and that suits her just fine.

Her peace gets blown to bits when Erik Siegfried shows up on her farm. Of course, it has to be him. The man who’d turned her world upside down, betrayed her, and shredded her heart all those years ago.

Wolf-shifter Erik doesn’t want to be there any more than Bryn wants him there, but he has no choice. A prophetess had come to him the week before, telling him the end times are coming now—and he needs the aid of a shieldmaiden to win the battle. It’s always been his destiny to fight alongside the gods and defeat the monsters that want to rule Earth. So, he’ll take any advantage he can get, even if it means dragging Bryn kicking and screaming into the fray.

What he doesn’t expect is to fall as hard for her as he had so long ago. The passion explodes between them, a fire that time has never quelled. But no one cares about warriors’ hearts, not when the world is depending on them to win.

Even if they pay with their lives. Again.

Note: this book was previously titled Viking Fire.

Published:
Publisher: CJ Books (https://www.cjbooks.com)
Editors:
Hart to Heart Editing (Website), Twin Tweaks Editing (Website)
Cover Artists:
Getcovers (Website)
Genres:
Paranormal/Shape-Shifters, Suspense/Action Adventure
Tags:
Short Novel
Excerpt:

Ravencrest Farm, Virginia

“I need a shieldmaiden.”

Bryn was bent over, digging out a rock that had gotten wedged under one of her horse’s shoes. At the sound of that voice, deep and rich and so familiar, every muscle in her body froze. Pain and longing and a million other emotions she refused to feel twisted through her soul. Moving as slowly as a thousand-year-old woman—which was actually how old she was—she carefully set the mare’s hoof on the ground and straightened, but didn’t turn around to face him. “Well, you’ll need to keep looking, then.”

“Brynhild.”

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“Just Bryn, thanks. Go away, Siegfried.” The gods knew he’d never show up here unless it was to fuck up her life. No, thanks. She might once have been a shieldmaiden, a valkyrie. She might still be able to shift into a raven and soar into the clouds. She might be older than dirt. But all of that meant she had an even lower bullshit tolerance than she did back in the day when Siegfried was the love of her life. Also her betrayer, her tormenter, the man who cost her mortal life. The man who she’d betrayed in turn, a blood-soaked vengeance she’d never been able to cleanse from her stained, battered soul.

That was a long time ago, but some wounds never really healed, did they? She tried not to think about it. Ever.

She stroked a hand down the horse’s silky neck. Unhooking the crossties, she snapped a lead line on to the mare’s halter, and walked her to her stall.

No sound gave away the fact that he’d followed her, but she was keenly aware of his presence, his nearness, his ability to throw her off-balance. Tingles skipped over her skin and she tried to ignore the reaction.

His voice came from directly behind her when she latched the stall. “I’ve used Siegfried as my surname since I came to America. A hundred years ago. Maybe more.”

“Okay.” She infused as much disinterest into the word as she could manage.

“Erik is what you can call me now.”

“I prefer to call you gone.” She set off down the wide, concrete barn aisle. The sun would set in about half an hour, so she had to wrap up for the day. One more horse needed to be brought in. She whistled as she approached the paddock gate and Rogue’s Gallery came galloping up to the fence. The stallion slid to a stop just before he reached her, rearing up and whinnying.

She snorted. “Settle down, show-off.”

The stallion snorted back, shaking his head. The second she opened the gate, he shoved his nose against her shoulder, demanding petting. She scratched behind his ears and he nickered in appreciation. “Ah, now. That’s my boy.”

“He looks like my Grani,” Erik noted. “Same color, anyway. Gray as stone.”

Yes, and she hated to admit that she might have a soft spot for Rogue for just that reason. “Grani was a warhorse who died a millennium ago. Rogue here is a thoroughbred. He had a great racing career and now I keep him for stud.”

She clipped on the lead rope and then had no choice but to face her unwelcome guest.

Whoa. Her lips parted, surprise spurting through her. What a change. He was still enormously tall and built like a honed Viking warrior, a berserker who could conquer an army with one hand tied behind his back. It was his hair that caught her attention. Or rather, the lack thereof. He’d shaved his head, and the look was so different, she blinked. She’d seen him once or twice over the last thousand plus years, never of her own will, but when Odin and Freya had summoned them at the same time, there was nothing Bryn could do about it.

This was the most dramatic change he’d ever made to his appearance. He’d always worn his hair long, no matter what the current fashion of the time dictated. His silver eyes, framed by absurdly long lashes, somehow seemed even more dramatic, more intense. Before this moment, she wouldn’t have believed it possible.

That gaze pinned her in place like a bug under a microscope, and it took effort not to squirm. She wasn’t used to that. Most men she met were like spoiled toddlers, and it had been a couple of decades since one had interested her in doing anything other than yawn.

Decades. Shit, she might be regrowing her hymen at this rate.

And thinking about sex while staring at Erik was a mistake. She shook herself and glanced away. Somehow with the shaved head, it was easier to think of him as Erik instead of Siegfried. Though he was both now, wasn’t he? Erik Siegfried. The new name suited him.

“Why are you still here?” She brushed passed him—careful not to make actual contact—and led Rogue to the smaller stallion barn.

“Are you serious?” he asked, incredulousness dripping from the question. “You’ve seen the signs, Brynhil—Bryn. You have to know what they mean.”

Hurricanes, earthquakes, winters that lasted far too long, summers that burned far too hot. Mortals thought it was climate change, but a valkyrie could sense the difference. Signs of the end times. The Vikings called it Ragnarök—the Twilight of the Gods—but it had been given many names by many cultures. Armageddon, eschaton, apocalypse, Satya Yuga, the appearance of Maitreya—it was all the same, as far as she was concerned—a prophesized final chapter before a supposed golden era began.

She shrugged as she finished putting Rogue away, then she turned to Erik. “Ah, but you’re the dragon slayer who’s supposed to kill the baddies who want to take over the world. I suggest you quit bothering me and get to it.”

His smile was sharp and unamused. “Trust me, I’d like nothing more than kill the baddies, preferably before they do the kind of damage that will land us in Ragnarök. Unfortunately, I need a shieldmaiden’s help.”

“I’m not the only one left.” Though, it had been a century or more since she’d been in contact with any other valkyrie. Freya hadn’t summoned her in a long time, and Bryn was just fine with that. She had her farm, her horses, and a quiet existence she enjoyed. “Go pester someone else.”

“Damn it, Bryn.” He scrubbed a hand over his head, looking as if he’d like nothing more than to strangle her. Interesting. He’d always been so obnoxiously calm and patient back in the day.

It annoyed the shit out of her that she liked this less stoic side of him. She widened her eyes innocently. “What?”

“I need your help.” He spread his hands in a gesture of helpless frustration, his heavy brows snapping together.

“No.” There. Simple, easy. An idiot should get that message through his thick skull.

The growl he emitted was more wolf than man, reminding her that berserkers could shift forms as easily as valkyrie. Again, that less civil side of him was…too alluring, too tempting, tugging at something deep within her. Something she’d rather crush under her boot.

COLLAPSE