Her Lycan Lover Read online

  Susan Arden

  Sweet-N-Spicy Tales

  ~Acclaim for Susan Arden~

  Praise for Rocky Mountain Shifter Series

  Collared for a Night

  “A shifter paranormal romance that had my inner kitty roaring throughout this erotic read.”

  5 out of 5 Licks ~ The Smutty Kitty Book Reviews

  “The language was lush and smexy. Very swoon worthy. Had me on the edge throughout the entire story. And the erotica...blazing kids blazing. But...drove the story line and even gave you some insight on the ways of shifters and how their relationships really work.”

  5 Stars ~ Fandom Fanatic

  “From the intense and sexually charged first pages, to the romantic finale, I LOVED THIS BOOK. It is scorchingly HOT: a fantastic mix of shifters, human emotion, fantastically written sex scenes, all darkly tinged with power, dominance, and submission.”

  5 Stars ~ Tattooed Book Reviews

  “I loved it! HOT HOT HOT Must read for Erotic Paranormal Romance readers!!!”

  5 out of 5 unicorns ~ Cassandra Lost in Books

  LOOK FOR THESE TITLES BY SUSAN ARDEN

  Rocky Mountain Series

  Collared for a Night

  Blood Brothers

  Bad Boys Series

  Tempted by Trouble (Book 1 e-book & Print)

  Tempted Twice (Book 2)

  The Cowboy Rode a Harley (Book 3)

  Ruler Breaker Series

  Rock into Me (Book 1)

  Crash & Burn (Book 2)

  Coming Soon through Swoon Romance

  Playing the Edge Series

  Taken (Book 1)

  Falling (Book 2)

  Surrender (Book 3)

  Ruler Breaker

  It’s a BITCH (Book 3)

  HER LYCAN LOVER

  Series: WOLF & WITCH Book #1

  Related to Rocky Mountain Shifter Series

  Sherry and Quinn, a couple with a story requiring their own series. A journey into the energy realm where Dark and Light Fae travel and cross barriers, causing havoc on the Earth’s plane.

  Book #2 – MY LYCAN HUSBAND coming in early 2014

  Book #3 – MY WIFE IS A WITCH – releasing near the vernal equinox of 2014

  If you enjoy MY LYCAN LOVER,

  Do sign up to receive updates on future releases, contests, and freebies.

  Newsletter sign-up at the blog, so come visit. http://susanardenbooks.blogspot.com

  Please consider leaving a review.

  It’s one way to tell the world about a book, helping connect readers

  with new stories and authors.

  Copyright © Susan Arden

  Published: October 2013

  SWEET-N-SPICY TALES

  The right of Susan Arden to be identified as author of this Work has been asserted by her in accordance with Sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval systems, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

  This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this e-book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Find out more about the author and upcoming books online at

  Twitter: @romancebysusan

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SusanTaylorAuthor

  Blog: http://susanardenbooks.blogspot.com

  BARN BURNER INFO STOP

  THIS IS A STORY INTENDED FOR ADULTS DUE TO CONTENT. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s ka-ray-z imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead or Fae or shifter, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental except for Downtown Den. Or because you have somehow managed to step on the toes of the author or support team. What goes around kinda stuff.

  Thank you to Salome Jones of Flourish Editing for the first go round of proofing.

  Author Central Edits, thank you. Much appreciation for reading, catching, and snagging.

  The first and final chapters were carefully handled by Barbara Gibbs, trusted eyes in proofing.

  A special round of applause to Celsey Seivert.

  I make last minute changes and Celsey is spot-on. Best ever beta reader!

  Please contact Celsey for your beta read needs. [email protected]

  When it comes to my writing, these are the people who diligently worked behind the curtains

  to make this story come e-book true.

  Hats off to these ladies!

  Dedication

  A hero is someone who inspires. The person who bolsters during grey moments and kicks ass when needed. Someone courageous enough to share truth in a way it can be heard.

  To my own hero, the man who makes my heart beat faster.

  DST, I love you!

  “Alea iacta est.” –Suetonius to Julius Caesar. January 10, 49 BC

  Let the die be cast.

  “Witch. We’re coming for you.” The menacing voice channeled by Dark Fae crashed within her mind.

  “Yeah right,” Sherry huffed, shoving away the Dark Fae’s attempt to intimidate. Her dagger flashed red-hot in her hand. Jagged bolts of energy fused another seam in the rip along the shield. The Dark Fae were out there. Terrorizing. If she didn’t repair the shield, they’d do more than channel threats. They’d cross and there would be no end to Sidhe’s ability to inflict harm.

  Cold realm wind burst past Sherry, upsetting the swipe of her dagger along the rip in the energy shield. The force pushed her forward into a vortex of swirling space debris. Blinded by the dust storm, she instinctively turned. Too late; she found herself at the edge, and seriously off-balance. Teetering on the energy corridor was never good. The wave formations over the ley line grew worse the more she swayed—a teeny-tiny cork in an enormous, heaving sea. Sherry glanced down into complete darkness. A sheer drop into the ley energy line and not a freaking thing to grasp. She sucked in her breath and waved her arms in desperation. The undulations were nothing short tap dancing along the top of tightrope without a net.

  Her mind spun. She had to figure out how to bloody well ground herself or topple over the edge, lost forever in an energetic realm running through Denver. The energy line encompassed a dimension extending without end around the world, crisscrossing through space, connecting planets within the solar system. A gateway between the realms.

  The fringe on which she balanced wobbled under her. Her body was pure energy, a state all too prone to chaos. She was a third level spellcaster, still learning the ropes, but she’d be damned if a strong wind would be the end of her. Sherry forced herself to calm the hell down, center her powers, and reconnect to the energy line. A reverse current of wind shot past her with enough power to push her backward and away from the edge.

  She inhaled, cringing from the foul odor. Only Dark Fae stank to this extreme. The stench rippled through her, setting off a chain reaction of bursting energy packets. She choked, but this time she avoided all sudden movement.

  The kicking up of wind and stench amounted to a telltale sign that Fae were bearing down, targeting this rip in the energy shield. A place where they could cross realms, into Earth’s dimension if she didn’t ge
t busy. She plied her blade, coalescing various forms of elemental energy, and snagged the jagged tear in the nearly invisible shield. The blade she brandished was empowered to do more than cut; it sutured energy and sealed the shield break, little by little. Her shoulders ached from exhaustion. The muscles all over her body burned. No way to stop. The pervasive odor meant any moment the Fae would appear.

  One slash to cauterize. Then again. She slashed and wove the universal elements together, forming a seal over the breach in the energy shield between the Fae realm and Denver. A couple more lashes. The beat of her heart jackhammered behind her ribs, keeping tempo with the rapid-fire movement of her spellcaster dagger wielding magick. The edge of the knife glittered, magically forged at the request of her grand-mère years ago and given to her when she came of age. The shimmering surface reflected the energy beacons flashing from above. More wind, and now the stench was overpowering. The Dark Fae shadows were visible just beyond the shield. Their rank odor of decay permeated the space, becoming more and more nauseating.

  She urgently

  needed more spellcaster fire to seal this last tear. Flickering beams were on the other side of the hole. Inky tendrils wove around her wrist and she cut through them with her blade. She telepathically called out to spellcasters along the line, requesting air and fire elements. The hole needed to be cauterized if the shield was to hold, keeping the Dark Fae from crossing into Earth’s dimension. An inky shadow touched her skin, imparting bitter coldness along with an icy scorch. The pain shot through her body. An insidious hiss discharged into her consciousness and she heard the Fae whisper her name. Sherry cut through the icy shadow tendrils reaching out for her. The Fae figure rocked backward, its energy lines severed. One down. But more were coming.

  Dark Fae were deceptive in how they manifested along the ley lines. Inky figures to smoky cloud formations. One never knew until it was too late. If they crossed over and through her, they’d absorb her life force, leaving her a prisoner within the energy line.

  Focus, she reminded herself. The muscles in her arms trembled as a full charge released from her blade, scoring the edge of the tear. The seal was complete and in place. She exhaled, her shoulders relaxing. An inky figure clambered up the shield, caught on the other side. The shadow pounded against the shield barrier, becoming louder and more frenzied, but Sherry was aware that without an open rip the Dark Fae weren’t crossing.

  Not this time.

  The repair was in place, but more and more shadows thundered on the other side. The Dark Fae thrashing against the shield unnerved her and left her heart battering within her chest, ready to burst out her throat. She sprinted down the passage on the extension and through one of the energy portals leading back to the city. Exiting this energy doorway, she regained her physical form and stood within the casting circle in the basement of an abandoned building. She walked over to the cement block wall at the back of the empty elevator shaft. Sherry untied her knife, then bent over, retrieving the leather sheath where she’d left it. Tucking her blade securely into the waistband of her pants, she began climbing the rusty metal rungs leading upward into the early morning glow. Worn out, she scrambled out of the elevator shaft.

  It had been dark when she’d descended. She squinted from the sunlight filtering through the broken panes of glass set in the dingy windows along the empty first floor of the condemned warehouse. Damn, she’d pulled another all-nighter. Impossible to keep track of hours or minutes down there. Time within the ley line network couldn’t be measured by clocks. The fourth dimension was beholden to ancient magick and free from mankind’s inventions.

  Rarely had she been under this much pressure. More and more, the Fae were making appearances at the border between the realms, challenging spellcasters. Only last week two casters were lost. Still missing. The Denver energy shield suffered several tears. That made three times this week alone.

  Sherry pushed herself out of the shaft and dusted her hands off on her pants. Grabbing her bag, she jogged out the front door, digging for her keys. Sherry climbed inside her car, then promptly locked the door and gunned the engine. A quick backward glance at the building doorway, then she pulled away from the abandoned warehouse. She focused on the sun peeking over the Rockies, painting the sky pink and warming the chill from her bones. No sleep for the wicked but, hey, it meant the freakish Dark Fae were locked out of this dimension. Her plan: home, a shower and coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.

  A little before eight, Sherry walked into Alvin’s LoDo Joe Stop, the pungent aroma of freshly ground beans floating through the air around her.

  “Got it right here.” Alvin scooted the large cup of coffee across the counter.

  She put cash in the lanky shapeshifter’s hand. There wasn’t another second separating her from nirvana. Tilting the cup to her lips, she savored the hot liquid. The closest thing to orgasmic in her world.

  “Lovely.” The smoky flavor of the brew reminded her—not a bean left in her stash at the office. Desperate for caffeine after her long, sleepless night, she gulped the sweet concoction, and walked to the shelf where bags of roasted beans were arranged in neat rows. What looks good?

  “Any suggestions?” Sherry called toward the counter.

  “Dark roast. Bella. From Guatemala,” Alvin said.

  She ran her eyes over the labels until she found the one he’d mentioned and picked up a bag. All she had to do was pay for it and she could finish her early morning love affair in her car. Inhaling the nutty aroma, she sighed as the tension in her shoulders lessened. Working full-time at the Downtown Den, she’d need fuel to make it through the day, not to mention doing field work for the Sisterhood Council again tonight. Whoever said being a spellcaster was glam had gotten the memo arse-backwards.

  “This mix smells heavenly.” She held out her credit card.

  Alvin held up his hand. “Put it away. It’s the least I can do.”

  She smiled, depositing a couple of bucks in the tip jar. “Always perfect,” she murmured. The caffeine was definitely beginning to kick in.

  “That’s what I was just thinking about you, babe.”

  She laughed, enjoying the banter she shared with Alvin. This was the turning point each morning. Sipping the steaming low fat caramel double shot Americano with two ice cubes, she perceived the circuitry within her brain reconnecting.

  “Ever think of a drive-thru window?” she asked after downing half the cup.

  “Never.” Alvin shook his head. His unkempt blondish-grey hair reminded her of a wild mane and, between that and his earring, he resembled a displaced surfer from the West Coast. What a combination he must have been in his day—lion shifter and beach bum. “I like to see my customers face to face. Especially when it’s yours. Makes my whole day… delicious.” Alvin winked good-naturedly.

  “It would be efficient,” Sherry said hopefully. “The drive-thru, I mean.” In her peripheral vision, she’d noted a burst of energy. Uneasily, she glanced around. The place was packed with customers. Men and women talked on cellphones or texted or typed on computer keyboards. One or two sat and read the paper. Something was off. She was shivering.

  Alvin leaned over the counter. “I gave up the nine-to-five a long time ago.”

  “Not me.” Another zap. She returned her gaze to Alvin. “Guess I’d better skedaddle.”

  She grew more apprehensive, being bombarded by the energy of the many jittery shifters seated around the shop. The bleeps and bursts of electrical flares skittered over her skin. Shifter energy bursts were usually akin to pinpricks but these were worse somehow.

  Strange. She hadn’t had her full caffeine fix. Another burst, this time a stabbing pain skidded along her skin. She narrowed her eyes. This wasn’t shifter energy, this was ley line activity. She wasn’t accustomed to line flares during daylight hours. Lambasts of static energy from ley highways running through Denver happened closer to three in the morning. Rarely at other times.

  Denver was a low
key outpost. Not as interesting as London, but a good station to learn the ropes of spellcasting. As a member of the Sisterhood Council it was her sole purpose to maintain the energy shield that served as a barrier between the realms, separating Earth’s borders from the underworld of Dark Fae.

  As a third level spellcaster there was nothing spectacular for her to do other than line maintenance and repairs but in time, if she played her cards right, she might work her way up to sixth level. Then she could seek a seat on the Sisterhood Council. Her intention was to shake things up, modernize and do away with castes that locked casters into slots governed by their heritage. The old way was unfair and unnecessary.

  “See ya tomorrow,” Alvin said, cracking a grin. “Same time. I’ll have you fixed up.”

  “Am I that predictable?” she huffed.

  “Just a smidge.” He laughed. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with structure if it works. I bit the bullet, but had to let go.”

  “I might try a latte tomorrow,” she said, arching a brow. She wasn’t a stick in the mud. She’d manned the post in the States the Sisterhood had assigned her, and so far there hadn’t been one breach. Her record was nearly pristine.

  Sherry pushed open the exit door. An attractive man, a professional by the look of his charcoal suit, stood just outside. His black eyes glittered, staring back at her.

  “Morning,” she said.

  “Top,” he returned and unleashed a sexy as sin smile that sent a jolt to her stomach. He stood aside to let her exit.

  As she moved closer to him, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. “Thanks,” she murmured, glancing up into his face for a moment.

  Something about him eroded her usual self control. He had a dark, magnetic aura that drew her attention. Her pulse quickened. There was only one other man who stirred her this way.