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CREATURE OF THE FLAME
HER CREATURES - BOOK ONE
MAYA NICOLE
 Copyright 2022 © Maya Nicole
All rights reserved.

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without
permission from the author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

For permissions contact: mayanicoleauthor@gmail.com

This book is currently available exclusively through Amazon.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real people,
living or dead, businesses, or locales are coincidental.

Cover Design by Jay R. Villalobos - Book Covers & Designs by Juan

Edited by Karen Sanders Editing

Proofreading by Proofs by Polly

Created with Vellum

 CONTENTS

Author’s Note

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23

Crossover Characters
Social Media
Also by Maya Nicole
 A U T H O R’ S N O T E

Her Creatures is a reverse harem romance series. That means the

main character will have a happily ever after with three or more
men. Recommended for readers 18+ for adult content and
language. Ends with a cliffhanger.
This book is dedicated to those learning to love themselves for who
they are.
CHAPTER ONE
 OLIVIA

M onster. Freak. Creature. Words no one wants to be called

but I was no stranger to. They played in my head on
repeat like a broken record, forever stuck in a loop I couldn't stop
even if I tried.
Especially not when a few days ago, a group of teenagers had
chased me, chanting Ursula. I didn't look anything like the evil sea
witch, yet the comparison was made frequently. I wasn't purple, and
I wasn't evil... at least not yet.
If people didn't learn to accept that I'd been changed into an
eight-tentacled beast, maybe their wishes would come true, and I'd
become what they feared.
I'd been in the Pacific City, a well-protected area of the Pacific
Ocean, home to Poseidon's palace and the tritons and sirens who
protected it. In recent years, I'd only gone to my underwater home a
handful of times, and if I could have avoided it completely, I would
have.
It was a place I had once loved with all my heart, but now it was
a reminder of everything I'd been through. Gone were the good
memories, and in their place, a darkness that was thick and
suffocating.
Unfortunately, I had to visit the underwater medical facility there
for assessments every few months, and it just so happened my
appointment was ending right as school let out.
 I should have wrapped my tentacles around the misinformed
teenagers and squeezed the life from their bodies, but that was a
surefire way to end up dead or locked away. One of these days, I
wouldn't be able to control myself and the shit would hit the fan.
Until that day came, I pretended I didn't care, even though it
was constantly on my mind unless I was alone. When I was alone or
around humans, no one feared me. Human ignorance of shifters'
existence was bliss.
Deep down, every time I was in the water and I let it take over
my body, I was reminded that it was only a matter of time before
people's fears led to my early demise. Like humans, tritons and
sirens didn't do well with different, and I was as different as they
came. As soon as I lost my triton tail and the blue coloring of my
skin, I lost my entire life. My friends turned their backs on me, and
everyone looked at me like I was a deplorable creature.
But I guess even tentacles were better than death. At least, that
was what I kept telling myself.
Since the incident with the teenagers, I'd been in another one of
my funks. Most days, I was fine and went about my life designing
book covers for clients, but it was when I had to be around others
that it was hard to get out of bed.
I'd had to force myself to get into my car and make the hour-
long drive to my brother's house along the coast for my niece's
birthday party.
Staring out of my windshield at the house in front of me, I
considered turning around. I'd been there a million times before,
especially when I attended Salinity Cove High and my dad was away
on official triton business.
The house was practically a mansion, and on the edge of a cliff
with an elevator that went straight into an ocean cave for easy
transition from land to water. That was if the tides were right and
diving off the cliff was feasible.
More and more, I found myself called by the water. The closer I
was to it, the more I wanted to be in it, and that wasn't good. I
could only resist the pull of my creature so much.
 Taking a deep breath, I turned my car off and told myself that I
had just let the beast out the other day, and it shouldn't be making
an appearance at my niece's birthday, no matter how close to the
ocean I was.
My reassurances to myself didn't do much.
Everyone was inside, and although my family and their close
friends knew about my situation, I still caught them sneaking
glances at me all the damn time like I was a ticking time bomb.
Hell, I'd have snuck glances at me too to make sure I wasn't
sprouting tentacles to kill them all.
I grabbed my purse, the purple glittered gift bag, and the bag
with ice cream from the passenger seat. Steeling my spine, I got out
of my car and shut the door before I could drop back into it and take
off.
The smell of the ocean immediately assaulted me, and I had
serious doubts about my medicine and my willpower keeping me on
two feet.
You've been here before. Everything will be fine.
Rolling my shoulders back, I locked my car and walked along the
long driveway where several cars and SUVs were parked. Besides my
brother and his family of four, Ivy was here with her four mates,
Wren with her three, and my dad with my stepmom.
No big deal. All people you know and who love you.
My own reassurances didn't stop the anxiety from bubbling over
and bringing my feet to a halt in the middle of the walkway up to
the door. So much for faking my confidence.
I gripped the handles of the bags I was holding until my
fingernails dug into my skin. I squeezed my eyes closed as my world
seemed to tilt on its axis.
The front door slamming against the wall of the hallway caused
my eyes to fly open, and I nearly shifted on the spot from the fright
it gave me.
Zayn, one of Wren's mates, grinned and skipped down the
walkway. "Popeye, finally! Did you bring the goods?"
"I told you and Silas to stop calling me that," I teased, plastering
a smile on my face. I held up my arm, the reusable grocery bag
swinging as he approached. "Of course I did. I didn't want to deal
with your pouty ass all day. Tell me again, why did you need me to
get this? Riley keeps plenty of ice cream in the freezer."
Zayn snatched the bag away from me and looked inside, pure joy
spreading across his face. "Eating a pregnant woman's ice cream is
not a risk I'm willing to take. She'll cut off my dick with that fancy
knife of hers. I'd rather not lose one of my most prized possessions."
"Smart man. Now I see why Wren keeps you around."
My sister-in-law, Riley, stood in the doorway, her arm resting on
the top of her pregnant belly as Zayn passed her to go back inside.
"I'm glad you came."
"I wouldn't miss my niece's second birthday." That was a lie; I'd
really been considering it. She would never remember anyway. "You
look great."
"You're too sweet." She raised an eyebrow and rubbed her belly.
She was thirty-five weeks along, and luckily, she didn't have to be in
the water for this pregnancy now that they knew what to expect.
"Are you going to come in?"
I was still standing where I'd been when the door had opened,
which was an awkward distance from the door considering Riley was
family and I wasn't trying to sell her Girl Scout cookies.
"Yeah. I was just admiring the new paint. Jax talked for about
fifteen minutes the other day about it."
Riley moved to the side as I walked up the walkway and into the
house. "Honestly, I don't notice a difference. Don't tell Jax that or
he'll get his panties in a knot and go get his paint samples to prove
it."
It seemed like only yesterday my brother was an asshole senior
in high school, and now he was geeking out over home improvement
ideas.
Voices and laughter came from down the hall, and my stomach
plummeted all over again. It was as if my body had an internal alarm
that was warning me to run far, far away, but I pushed myself to go
down the hall with Riley and into the living room and kitchen where
everyone was gathered.
 The open concept layout with the wall of pocket windows made
the space ideal for large gatherings. The girls occupied the L-shaped
couch, Riley already rejoining them to put her feet up.
After putting my gift in the pile of presents, I looked around for
my niece, Kaitlyn, and when I didn't spot her, I looked for the least
threatening conversation to join. Not that anyone in attendance was
threatening, but some of them had testosterone-fueled
conversations, which weren't my cup of tea.
Luckily, my dad made the decision for me and came from the
back patio, where he'd been talking with my brother, Jax. His face
softened as he hugged me. "How's my little girl?"
I snorted because I was far from being his little girl. "I'm twenty-
four, Dad. And I'm good."
He didn't look convinced. He slung his arm around my shoulders
and gave me a squeeze. "I wish you would move closer. I feel like I
never get to see you anymore."
Despite my age, my dad worried about me more than he should
have—or maybe he worried the right amount. I couldn't hold it
against him since my teenage years had been rough, to say the
least.
"I'm only an hour away. I do better away from the ocean." As I
spoke of the blue expanse I used to call home, I looked out the
open doors at the water beyond the cliff and shuddered.
"Hey, sweetheart." My stepmom, Natalia, hugged me as she
joined us. "How's it going?"
I hated that question with a passion. How was I supposed to
respond when it wasn't going? No one wanted to hear the truth, yet
everyone asked.
Instead of giving in to the overwhelming need to vent my woes, I
focused on the positives in my life. "I started a major design project
for a big name in the indie author world."
"Oh, that's fantastic news! Anyone we would know?" The one
thing I loved about Natalia was she treated me as if I was her own
daughter and always gave me her undivided attention.
"J.N. Night. She writes pretty spicy novels." Heat crept onto my
cheeks because I was a big fan and knew how spicy her writing
could be. It had been an honor when I'd gotten the email asking if
I'd be able to design covers for an upcoming series.
"Oh! I love her books. She writes really hot sex scenes. I can't
wait to see the designs you come up with." Natalia smiled warmly at
me, not caring if it was embarrassing the hell out of me to hear she
read spicy romance.
"You and your lady porn." My dad rolled his eyes but had a sly
smirk on his face. "But I can't complain."
"Oh, gross! There are some things better left unsaid." I gagged,
and Natalia and my dad laughed as I ducked out from under his
arm.
"Here comes the birthday girl!" My dad's face lit up as he looked
toward the stairs.
I zeroed in on my niece, Kaitlyn, who was one of the few who
didn't look at me like I was a freak. She was only two years old, but
that was beside the point.
Morgan carried her down the stairs in a sequined purple dress,
her curls cascading from two pigtails.
As he reached the bottom of the stairs, I walked to meet them,
my arms already stretched out to take her. She squirmed in his
arms, and as my fingertips brushed her dress, she turned, her blue
eyes meeting mine and widening in terror.
I dropped my hands as if I'd touched a live wire, and Kaitlyn
buried her face against her dad's chest.
He shifted her in his arms and tugged on her dress. "Don't you
want to see your Auntie Livvy?"
She shook her head vehemently, and my eyes felt like they were
burning as her scared eyes peeked out at me. She quickly hid her
face again, her little fingers tightening in Morgan's shirt.
"Scawy monsuh."
Scary monster.
The room went deathly silent, and the only sound I could hear
was the thudding of my heart. It was beating so loud I was sure
everyone could hear it, like a drum signaling an impending battle.
Did they tell her about me? I thought we'd decided as a family to
wait until she was older and could understand it better. She was a
smart toddler, but not smart enough to understand what had
happened to me.
"She just woke up from a nap. She's a little cranky." Morgan
rubbed Kaitlyn's back and tried to get her to look at him.
My entire body felt like it was on fire as the conversations around
me returned to normal and everyone tried to ignore the giant
elephant—or in my case, kraken—in the room.
"Hey, sis." Jax came to stand next to me, his arms crossed over
his chest. He took the role of being admiral of the tritons way too
seriously even in his personal life, despite saying he wouldn't. "Let's
grab some beers, and I'll show you the new storm shutters I had
installed."
It was a good attempt to diffuse the situation and lighten the
mood. I wouldn't have blamed him if he asked me to leave. Now
Kaitlyn was scared of me, things were going to be different.
With a halfhearted nod, I followed him to the refrigerator to grab
a drink and then back down the hall to the front. I was grateful he
hadn't tried to lead me out the back, where the ocean would beckon
me.
Jax took a long swig of his beer before gesturing to one of the
windows at the front. "So, the old storm shutters were fine and all,
but I think-"
"I should go." I held out my unopened beer to him. "I don't want
to scare Kaitlyn."
"She's not scared, Livvy. She's... cranky today. She probably
needs a swim." Jax didn't take my beer and gripped the back of his
neck. "Riley said she saw you underwater in the city the other day.
Kaitlyn was with her, but she didn't think she saw you."
"I must have been too busy swimming away from the assholes
chasing me to notice." My hand tightened around the beer bottle,
and I was tempted to chuck it at Jax's precious new storm shutters.
"My gut was telling me not to come today, and I was right. She was
the only one left that didn't look at me differently."
Jax pried the beer bottle from my hand and set both down on the
ground. "I feel like you're slipping away from us."
 "I'm tired, Jax." A tear slipped down my cheek, and I swiped it
away. "I thought after all these years there'd be a solution, but
instead, I feel like no one cares, and they're just waiting on orders to
take me out."
"That's not going to happen." He wrapped his arms around me,
pulling me into a hug. "You have your appointment at the coalition's
headquarters coming up, don't you? Do you want me to come with
you?"
"No, I'll be fine. It's going to be the same news as our doctors
and researchers gave me. There's nothing they can do. My blood
markers are more prominent and it's only a matter of time..." I
choked on the words, and he sighed, putting his chin on top of my
head. "It's only a matter of time before I'm stuck as a monster."
"You aren't a monster, Olivia." He pulled away and gave me a
stern look. "You're Olivia West, fierce tritoness and protector of the
Pacific City."
I could have argued with him all day about how untrue that was,
but instead, I nodded and looked over at my car, ready to escape
back to my house. "Tell everyone I wasn't feeling well?"
"I won't force you to stay, but promise me something?" He tipped
my chin up, forcing me to look him in the eyes.
"I don't believe in promises, you know that." Holy shark breath,
was I a downer. It made me miss my old, carefree self. Of course,
that old self was what got me into the mess I was in in the first
place.
"Humor me." His jaw ticked in frustration as I rolled my eyes and
nodded. I was still his little sister, after all. "Promise me you won't
give up on yourself. You're a survivor, Olivia. Any other woman
would have..." He broke eye contact for a moment, his eyes
flickering to his cat-like triton eyes—eyes I no longer had. "I want for
you to love who you are now. You're beautiful, inside and out,
human form or with tentacles. Everyone else can see it too. You
have to believe it."
"Thank you," I whispered, hugging him again. It was rare he
showed such raw emotion like that. "I'll try, okay?"
He cleared his throat. "Are you sure you don't want to stay?"
 "I'm sure. I'll let you know how my appointment goes. All right?"
Backing away, I pulled my keys out of my purse. "I love you."
I got into my car and looked back at my brother standing by the
door, concern still written all over his face. It was a look he gave me
every time I drove away.
A look that asked if it was the last time he'd see me.
C H A P T E R T WO
 OLIVIA

I stared at the empty seats around the conference table at the

coalition headquarters, waiting for my team of doctors and
researchers to come tell me their findings. They were part of a
secret shifter policing organization that dealt with land shifter issues
across the United States and abroad.
I didn't know much about them, other than they had a team of
highly regarded doctors and researchers much like the tritons had.
The facility I was at was insanely secure and in an undisclosed
location. To even get here, I had to be blindfolded. I was used to the
security of the place by now, but the first time I'd been brought in
when I was about thirteen, I'd been scared shitless.
All morning, I'd had a variety of tests including blood samples,
scans, and physical assessments. None of it had been in the water
since my team of doctors in the Pacific City communicated and
shared information with the coalition.
The door opened and five researchers and doctors came in with
tablets. The lead doctor had a box she sat on the floor as she took a
seat to face me.
I didn't like the grim expressions on their faces.
Trying to stay calm, I leaned back in my chair and relaxed into
the soft leather. The chairs were made for long meetings, but even
their comfort didn't help ease the tightness in my shoulders.
"Sorry to keep you waiting." Dr. Andrews pointed a small
controller at the large screen mounted on the wall, and her tablet
screen was displayed. "Did you get lunch in the cafeteria?"
"It's all right. The transport back doesn't leave for several hours,
and yes, I did get lunch. Thank you." I barely ate any of it, but I
didn't need the worry creasing all of their brows to get any worse.
"How bad is it?"
Dr. Andrews opened a file that had a bunch of numbers I didn't
understand. "As you know, we are in constant contact with your
doctors at Trident Industries. We're seeing the same regression of
your cells as they are. The more you shift back and forth, the more
your DNA shifts to that of your animal."
"Animal? Is that what you're calling it now?" They were trying to
be politically correct, but I didn't need them to be. "How much
longer do you think I have?"
The doctor clicked to a new slide that showed a graph with their
calculations, and I sucked in a sharp breath as the air felt like it left
the room.
"Based on all of your blood samples and the frequency with
which you shift now, if you continue to shift at the same rate of once
a month, you have about three years before you're no longer able to
return to your bipedal form."
"But... I have to shift that often. It won't let me go longer than
that." I bit back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Maybe if we
increased the dosage of my pills?"
She clicked to the next slide. "We tested that, and it's already
pushing the limit of your body now."
One of the researchers who was a new face to me cleared his
throat, and my attention went to him. "You were a triton before this
happened to you. Since triton females can't shift, wouldn't you be
underwater full time anyway?"
Dr. Andrews shot him a glare and his face turned red in
embarrassment. "You'll have to excuse him. What he's trying to say
is that a life underwater for your kind is the norm unless you're male
and get that clearance from the admirals."
I stayed quiet, staring at the graph on the screen. There was no
reason for me to explain myself since most of them knew my
feelings. None of them could ever fully understand because they
didn't have tentacles that grew out of them.
Over the years, I'd seen countless therapists who tried to
convince me of the benefits of my underwater body. They liked to
tell me that with training, I could better control the appendages, and
once I was in the Pacific City, more tritons would get used to seeing
me.
As much as I wanted to believe that was the case, I knew better.
Sirens had been working to be accepted by the tritons for years, and
there was still a stigma surrounding them. I didn't even want to
think about what my niece was going to face being half triton and
half siren.
"You mentioned your back has been hurting when you're on your
feet for too long. We discovered that your spine is weakening." That
got my attention, and I sat up straight in my chair. "It's slight, but as
time goes on, we fully anticipate that your spine will become too
weak to support a life outside of water."
Side by side images of my spine were displayed, and I could see
that the vertebrae looked different. Even as I sat straight up in the
chair, I could feel my back protesting.
Was this it? Was this my sign that I needed to give up my life on
land to suffer in the depths of the ocean? It was the last thing I
wanted, but it looked like soon I wouldn't have a choice.
"I know this is a lot to take in." Dr. Andrews nodded to the others
in the room, and they stood with sympathetic looks and left the
room.
With only her in the room, I collapsed back in the chair and
squeezed my eyes shut, wishing it would all go away. If I hadn't
been such a stupid thirteen-year-old, I wouldn't be in the situation I
was in now.
I'd just wanted to save the dolphins from the oil spill. The oil had
gotten into my lungs, rendering them useless and forcing the
doctors to put me in a coma. Instead of letting me go, my dad had
kept me alive, and then the unthinkable happened; a deranged
demi-god took me and turned me into a monster.
 At least the lunatic was dead, but even with him dead, I was still
suffering the consequences of his experimentation.
It was still hard to believe that it had happened, but one second,
I remember struggling to breathe, and the next I woke up in a fancy
hotel room in Greece with legs. Everything seemed fine at first...
until I sprouted my first tentacle.
My story didn't have a The Little Mermaid happy ending.
A cool hand covered mine, and I opened my eyes, tears spilling
out and down my cheeks. "I don't want this."
"I know, hun." The doctor patted my hand and then grabbed the
box she'd put on the ground. "Right now, I want to make you as
comfortable as possible while you process everything."
There was nothing to process. The day I'd feared was fast
approaching and there was nothing we could do to stop it.
Maybe I could build a home outside the Pacific City and live as a
recluse. I'd embrace the monster everyone thought I was. Little kids
already feared me. Why not be the mean old kraken?
"We made you some braces to help support your back. It's made
from our special leather, which is virtually indestructible and has
slots in the back. We can change the structure as time goes on." She
lifted the lid off the box and pulled out a leather corset that wasn't
all that bad-looking. "You'll need to wear something under it so it
doesn't rub your skin raw, but hopefully this is suitable for you.
There are a few different options I had made."
I took it from her and ran my hand across the smooth black
leather. "Thank you. I know I don't say it enough, but I appreciate
everything you've done for me."
Blowing out a breath, I wiped at my cheeks and met her worried
eyes. I hated that look. "Your brother is very concerned about you,
Olivia."
"He doesn't need to be." I shrugged and pulled the box over to
me, peering inside. "Wow, you hooked me up."
She shrugged. "I thought you might like them."
I nodded and placed the corset back in the box with the others
and closed the lid. "Are we done for today? Trevor said I can walk
around the garden for a bit when I'm done here."
 Trevor ran the show at the coalition and was also part of my
extended family in a complicated kind of way. When everyone
connected to your brother's mate had harems, it was hard to know
what to call everyone.
"We're done. At the bottom of the box, I put some numbers for
you to reach out to if you ever need to talk." She patted my hand
again and stood. "I want you to know I'm doing everything I can to
find a solution for you. We all are."
"I've been hearing that for over ten years." I stood, tucking the
box under my arm and ignoring the sad look she gave me. "I'll be
fine. I always am... eventually."
Her eyes didn't show that she believed me as she opened the
door for me to exit. What I really wanted to do was make a run for it
and cry my eyes out somewhere private, but that would have to wait
until I was in the comfort of my own home.
After storing my belongings in the exam room assigned to me for
the day, I headed for the exit and used my temporary keycard to get
outside. There were explicit rules about where visitors could go, and
I was one of the few allowed outside the secure building.
The weather was perfect, with no clouds in the sky. I needed to
enjoy every moment of the great outdoors while I still could. Once I
was stuck in the water, I'd be able to pop my head above water, but
it wasn't the same in the middle of the ocean.
I walked down a paved path along flowering hedges to a
fountain with the goddess Artemis depicted in stone. Sitting on a
bench, I watched the water for a while until movement in the trees
not far away caught my eye. It looked like a person had darted
behind the trees.
My curiosity and sense of adventure hadn't disappeared,
although I was more selective now about what risks I took. There
was nothing on the property that would hurt me from what I'd been
told, but even if there was, did it matter? I had nothing left to lose.
I wasn't supposed to leave the garden area, but it wouldn't hurt
anyone if I went to investigate.
No one was outside besides me, but I ducked down and ran
along the path, hoping the hedges hid me enough from any eyes
that might glance outside.
The forest was quiet, but not in a creepy way; more of an
otherworldly way. Everything was a bit brighter and almost too
perfect there. It was on the edge of making me uncomfortable.
Tingles spread across my skin as I became hidden by the trees. I
didn't know how I knew exactly, but something told me there was a
lot of magic in the forest.
I stopped to listen but couldn't hear anything except my own
breathing. On land, my senses were similar to those of a human, so
smelling the air or trying to hear what had been in the trees was
useless.
"You shouldn't be here." The sudden voice behind me made me
jump and nearly fall on my ass as I spun around. "Wandering into a
forest alone is asking for an unhappy ending. Have you never seen a
horror movie?"
My eyes widened at the naked man in front of me who had
electrode patches on his chest and forehead that connected to a
contraption on a belt around his waist. I'd had the same thing
hooked to me when I first started shifting into a kraken-like
creature. It measured heart and brain activity.
"I don't like scary movies." I kept my eyes locked on his brown
ones. He was attractive, and the temptation to look down was
strong. "What are you doing out here?"
He looked like a younger version of Sullivan, who was a family
friend and a wolf shifter. I knew Sullivan had a brother but didn't
know anything about him other than he lived on the other side of
the country.
"Wasting time." He sighed and stuck out his hand. "I'm Jonah."
I eyed his hand cautiously and my cheeks heated because it
drew my attention straight to his dick and the rest of his body.
Jonah was only an inch or two taller than my five-foot-seven
inches. He had a lean body that was unlike other wolf shifters'
muscular and athletic builds. His torso and arms were partially
covered in tattoos and his nipples pierced with barbells through
them. I wondered if his dick was pierced too, but I'd need a closer
look.
 That wasn't happening.
"I'm Olivia." I shook his hand, and a tingling sensation spread up
my arm and settled in my chest. I yanked my hand away, and his
brows lifted in surprise. I didn't know whether it was because he felt
the same tingling or because I jerked my hand away.
"Olivia is a beautiful name for a beautiful girl." He smiled at me,
and I was damn near knocked off my feet at how it made me feel.
He made me want to smile with the way his entire face came alive.
"Thank you. You're beautiful too." I cringed. Why did I have to be
so awkward around people sometimes? "I mean, I like your tattoos
and stuff."
His grin widened and he crossed his arms, making his nipple
piercings even more obvious. "You really shouldn't be out here. I
haven't shifted before, and if I do... I have a feeling my wolf would
want to chase yours."
He thought I was a wolf too, which was a fair assumption
considering most of the land shifters were wolves. "You've never
shifted? But..."
"Yes, I know. Twenty-nine years old and not once has my wolf
made an appearance. It's a long story." He ran his fingers through
his short dark hair. "I know he's there, though; I feel him."
He rubbed at the center of his chest, and a haunted look crossed
his face. I wanted to reach out and comfort him, but I barely knew
the guy... and he was naked.
"I should get back before I'm caught out here." I bit my lip and
looked off in the direction I'd come from.
"Don't worry, I won't tell." He winked and started to walk past
me before he stopped, our shoulders nearly brushing. "I'll see you
later."
"Maybe..." I watched as he walked deeper into the forest, his
back and ass on full display. There was a large dragon head tattoo
on his back with a sword that started right above the crack of his
ass. The sword went through the chin of the dragon and out through
the top of its head with the point of the knife stopping at Jonah's
neck. It was an amazing work of art but made my stomach twist
with the wrongness of it.
 "Life's too short for maybes, Olivia!" he shouted as he
disappeared behind a thick patch of trees.
He didn't know how true his words were.
CHAPTER THREE
 JONAH

M y entire body ached as I pulled on my clothes after my

session in the forest. I'd been out there all night and most
of the day, yet despite feeling like my wolf was right there under the
surface ready to break free, nothing had happened.
Couldn't say I was surprised.
"Nguyen! Your ride is ready to go!" one of the agents barked
over the intercom in the small bedroom I always stayed in when at
headquarters.
When my spinal cord was first healed, I'd stayed here for the first
few months so doctors could watch my progress as I learned to use
my body again. We had hoped that after a few months I'd have my
first shift, but months turned into almost two years.
I quickly slid my feet into my black Chucks and grabbed my
overnight bag and backpack off the bed. Double-checking that I
didn't forget my laptop charger, I headed out to the area where a
vehicle was waiting to take me back to my brother's house in
Crescent Heights.
My flight back to Maine wouldn't be until the next morning, but I
kind of wished I could stay longer. I missed my brother, even though
every time he looked at me it was as if he was looking at a precious
vase he had broken.
I'd long since forgiven him for dragging me into the cave that led
to my spinal cord being severed. Even if I hadn't been healed fifteen
years after the fact, I had already let my anger toward him go.
 I saved all my anger for the beast that had thrown me across the
cave.
The late afternoon sun nearly blinded me as I walked to the
idling SUV with an agent waiting inside and one talking to someone
in the backseat.
"Sorry I'm running late." It had taken longer than expected for
the doctors to tell me the same thing they always told me. They had
absolutely no clue why I wasn't shifting.
The agent moved out of the way and my stomach tangled in
knots seeing Olivia sitting there in the backseat, fiddling with a black
bag in her hands that some people opted to wear over their head
instead of being tranquilized.
The coalition took their location very seriously, and there were
two choices when being transported: a bag over the head or
knocked out. It was a little extreme, but I understood the need for
secrecy.
Wolves had gone centuries without being detected, and that was
in part due to the coalition and alphas, who took secrecy seriously.
The world was not ready to know about us, and anytime I thought
about my kind being exposed I wanted to puke.
Giving Olivia a small smile, I went to move into the back row, but
the agent stopped me. "You know you can't sit all the way back
there, especially since your ass might wake up." The agent pulled a
tranquilizer injector from his back pocket. "Which arm do you want it
in?"
"Uh." I set my stuff in the back next to a box and glanced at
Olivia, who was frowning at the injector. "I think I'll try the bag
today."
The agent blinked quickly, as if he didn't believe me. I wouldn't
believe me. I didn't do well with darkness if I was awake, but I also
didn't want Olivia to see me as weak. I might not have shifted into
my wolf, but the desire to be seen as strong by females ran through
my veins.
Maybe this time wearing the bag would be different and I
wouldn't freak out with it over my head. I'd at least be able to talk to
her some more.
 "Then you definitely can't sit in the back row." He opened the
front passenger door and got in. "Hurry up and get in. We're running
late. Olivia probably won't bite, but I can make no guarantees."
Her face fell at that, but she quickly recovered and smiled, even
if it was a fake one. What was that about? Did she have a biting
problem?
Crap. Maybe taking the risk of not being tranquilized and having
a panic attack wasn't worth the damage that seeing me freak out
would cause.
I climbed in, buckled my seat belt, and grabbed a bag that was
tucked into the back seat. "I told you I'd be seeing you again."
"You won't be seeing me at all here in a second."
The girl had a little sass. I liked that a lot.
I didn't date much—or really at all in the past several months—
but she was definitely my type; if I even had a type. She was a few
inches shorter than me, with long brown hair, and the most
interesting-colored eyes I'd seen. In the forest, they had appeared
brown, but now in the sunlight, they picked up flecks of blue. I'd
never seen such a color before, and I wanted to stare into them and
memorize every hint of blue.
There was a sadness to her which called to my own that crept up
occasionally. I could see it in the way her shoulders sagged and the
smile she had to fight to put on. I wanted to pull her to me and
stroke her hair to let her know everything was going to be all right.
The SUV pulled out of its parking spot, and we both put the bags
over our heads. I could still see light seeping underneath, but with
how long we'd be driving, it would get dark quickly.
Even with the thought of being plunged into darkness, my heart
started to race. I gripped onto the edge of my seat as the SUV
accelerated and tried to focus on each small bump of the SUV.
"So, Jonah, are you related to Sullivan? You look like a younger
version of him."
I turned my head in her direction, glad she stole my attention
away from what felt like a heart attack waiting to happen. "I am. I'll
let him know you think he looks old." I relaxed more as she snorted
a laugh. "I don't live out here in Cali, which is probably why we
never cross paths."
"Maine, right?" She shifted in her seat, and from the bottom of
the bag, I saw her hand rest on the seat between us. At least the
agents didn't make us cinch them closed at the bottom.
"Yup." I stared at her hand as silence fell between us for a few
minutes. There was something calming about watching her trace
circles on the leather seat. Her hand was perfect, with smooth skin
and perfectly rounded nails. "How do you know my brother? Do you
live in Crescent Heights or the valley?"
"He's a family friend I've seen a few times at parties. I'm from
Salinity Cove, but I needed a break, so now I live about an hour
inland. It's a little less than an hour from Crescent Heights. I always
drive there to get picked up by the agents." She was speaking
quickly, and I didn't want her to stop. Her voice was light and
calmed me in an unexpected way.
The SUV turned, and she slid toward me a bit, her hand pressing
into the seat and grazing my leg. Any normal man wouldn't react to
such a small touch, but I'd gone far too long not feeling the touch of
another. I just hadn't found the right woman yet to understand my
unique situation.
Taking a chance, I put my hand over hers to stop her from
moving it back. She inhaled sharply but didn't pull away.
"Can you warn us before you turn so sharply next time?" I was
usually knocked out for the drive, so who knew how crazy they
drove? No one else was usually in the transport vehicle with me.
There was a grunt of acknowledgment, but neither agent said a
word. They could at least turn on some music to help pass the time,
but that might also give us an idea of how long we'd been driving,
which was against their protocol.
Olivia's hand was cool and soft underneath mine, and I wanted
to bring it to my lips. I'd never been so into a woman before. It was
like I was drunk on her mere presence.
I decided to take a chance and took a calming breath. "What are
you doing for dinner?"
 "Dinner?" There was confusion in her voice. "You want to go out
to dinner? With me?"
"Well, yeah. If you want. I'm starving. There's this place called
Flaming Fork that my brother's family recently opened. It has really
great food and an extensive ice cream selection."
She was taking way too long to respond. Maybe I'd read her
wrong and she wasn't open to going on a date. But then again, it's
not like it would go anywhere with me living on the other side of the
country.
I had to take the chance, though. I was tired of letting my
insecurities affect my love life. I was a twenty-nine-year-old virgin,
and if I didn't get to experience sex soon, my dick might fall off. At
least, that was what it felt like. Sex with her would be amazing. I
could feel that truth in the deepest part of me.
But it looked like I'd spend another evening writing out my
fantasies instead. "It's all right if you don't want to."
"No. I do. I'm... not like you. I'm not a wolf." She tried to pull her
hand away, but I caught it just in time, holding it palm to palm. The
urge to entwine my fingers with hers was strong, but that might
have been too much too soon.
"So? I'm not a typical wolf shifter. I don't care what kind of
shifter you are. I want to share a meal with a pretty woman." I
shrugged, even though she couldn't see. "Oh, shit. Do you have a
boyfriend or girlfriend?"
She squeezed my hand and then pulled it away from me. "It's
not that... I'll go to dinner with you."
Internally, I did a little happy dance. I'd been on a few dates
since recovering, but it seemed that most of the wolf shifters in my
pack didn't want to deal with a broken wolf. Conversations or dates
always started out great until I shared that I couldn't shift. I could
have lied and just not said anything, but it was only fair they knew
what they were getting into.
If it wasn't frowned on to hook up with humans, I'd have been all
over it.
A comfortable silence fell between us, but after about fifteen
minutes, my chest felt like someone was slowly putting their weight
on it. With the blacked-out tint on the windows and the sun starting
to go down, it was getting darker and darker inside my bag.
"How much longer?" My voice cracked like I was going through
puberty, and I wanted to melt into the seat.
"You know we can't tell you that, but we're about halfway there if
that helps. Want the tranq?" The agent shifted in his seat, and I
heard his seat belt unlatching.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to remind myself that I wasn't in
the cave and nothing was going to jump out and attack me. But
telling myself that was one thing, and the fucked-up part of my mind
believing it was another.
Olivia grabbed my hand in hers and began rubbing a circle on the
top with her thumb. "I don't think he needs the tranq. How's he
going to take me to dinner if he's passed out?"
The weight on my chest eased, and I inhaled shakily. "Thank
you."
"I used to get really bad panic attacks after I first..." She didn't
finish what she was saying, and I didn't ask. If she wanted me to
know, she'd tell me. "Do you guys have a flashlight I can borrow?"
I heard something open, and she let go of my hand before
placing something hard and metal in it. Why had I never thought to
use a flashlight?
Clicking it on, I was instantly relieved to see the light shining
brightly from the bottom edge of the bag. "You're brilliant. You
would think with the technology the coalition has, they'd have lights
inside their bags or a better way of transporting us without us
seeing."
"Can't let people get too comfortable. They might forget who
they're dealing with," the agent driving said. "Sure, we could put you
in the back of a van without any windows, but where's the fun in
that?"
"We have vans with no windows. They're for unsavory
characters," the other agent added. "SUVs blend in with all the other
vehicles on the road too. A windowless van draws attention when it's
not wanted. Stranger danger and all that."
 Olivia's hand returned to mine, and I put my head back against
the headrest. How could I have just met someone who understood
what I needed so well?

A n hour later , the agents dropped us off at Olivia's car, and we were
on our way to dinner. Thankfully, my brother said they wouldn't be
at Flaming Fork. The last thing I needed was to have an audience or
be subjected to brotherly taunting later.
I slid into a circular booth next to Olivia, happy we had more
private seating in the back corner of the restaurant. It was farthest
from the kitchen, the bathrooms, and the bar, which was optimal
seating, in my opinion. I hated sitting in the middle of a restaurant;
it made me feel like I was in a fishbowl and everyone was watching
my every move.
The waiter came quickly, introducing himself, giving us water, and
taking our drink orders; a Sprite for Olivia and a beer for me. I
needed something to take the edge off after nearly having a panic
attack, and as much as I hated to admit it, I was nervous.
Olivia got me. Well, as much as she could get, given she didn't
even know my story. Once we'd been able to see where we were in
the transport vehicle, she'd given me one of those looks that told me
she understood what I was going through. It wasn't a look of pity,
but a look of pure understanding.
Opening my menu, I peeked over at her and caught her doing
the same. If I wasn't sitting right there living it, I would have
laughed at how romantic it all seemed. Did she feel the same
connection with me as I did with her? I probably spent too much
time with my head in the clouds as it was, but she made me
fantasize about things I probably shouldn't.
Like taking her to a hotel and fucking her silly.
Oh, God. What if all my reading and other research weren't good
enough and I disappointed her? I wanted my first time to be perfect,
and if it was with her, then I really had to make it special.
 My dick stirred, and I subtly adjusted myself. We were just
having dinner. I needed to stop thinking about sex and focus on
food. She'd awakened a part of me, though, and now I couldn't get
her out of my head.
"We need to order some appetizers because I'm famished." I
looked back at my menu, hoping that would help with my situation
under the table. "My brother said we have to get the calamari. Do
you like it? Oh, look, they have a sampler platter with it! You aren't a
vegetarian or vegan, are you? There's a few in my pack that have
sworn off meat."
I chuckled to myself because meat to a shifter was life. I doubted
their meatless diets would last very long. Their wolves would go
nuts.
I looked up again, and her face was twisted in a grimace. "I eat
meat and fish, but I don't eat calamari... or octopus. Tentacles are a
no-go for me." She took a giant gulp of her water and stared intently
at her menu. "But the sampler platter should be fine. You can never
go wrong with mozzarella sticks."
"I guess tentacles are an acquired texture." I closed my menu,
already knowing what I was going to order, and she did the same a
few moments later. The waiter came back to deliver our drinks, then
took our appetizer and entree orders.
"So, what do you do for a living, or are you still in school?" I'd
never even considered how old she was, and she looked fairly
young.
She settled back into her seat, her demeanor changing for the
better at the change in topic. I guess this whole dinner thing was a
bit awkward after she first met me naked in the woods and then had
to soothe me during a panic attack.
If I were her, I would have run far, far away.
She scrunched her nose, which made her look even younger. "I
can't imagine still being in school. Four years of college was enough.
I'm a graphic designer. What about you?"
"I'm a writer. It was something I could do when I was
paralyzed... Well, not with a keyboard, but I would dictate into a
voice transcriber and then the computer would write it out." I took a
drink of my beer. "It's pretty nice to work as much as I want and not
have to answer to anyone except my fans."
"I'm the same way, but I do try to keep office hours so I'm not
lazy. What do you write?" She leaned forward, so engaged with our
conversation that the back of my neck heated.
But really, it heated because of what I wrote, not because she
was watching me intently.
"Fiction." I took another sip of my beer, hoping I would at least
get a small bit of liquid courage from one beer. "Of the spicy variety."
Her eyes widened slightly. "So, like romance or erotica?"
I smiled around the rim of my glass. "Both."
The curiosity in her eyes made me want to open my publishing
account and show her, but I also didn't want her to think of me
differently. It was a stupid insecurity, really. Male romance and
erotica authors got such a bad rap because of a few bad eggs. Most
of my readers assumed I was a woman, and I took it as a major
compliment.
The waiter saved me from making a dumb decision and placed
our appetizer in the middle of the table. The plate was full of
calamari, mozzarella sticks, chicken bites, and fried pickles.
"Anything else I can get you two before your dinner comes?"
"No, thank you." I grabbed my napkin and put it in my lap. "This
looks amazing." I stabbed a piece of crunchy calamari tentacles with
my fork, dipped it in one of the sauces, and shoved it in my mouth.
"Mm. This is superior to any I've had before. You should try at least
a bite."
Olivia went pale and slid out of the booth. "I'll be right back. I
need to wash my hands."
She rushed away from the table toward the hall with the
bathrooms. I knew it was because she'd watched me eat a piece of
calamari judging from the look on her face as I'd picked it up and
put it in my mouth. What was it with her and tentacles?
CHAPTER FOUR
 OLIVIA

A s soon as I was in the bathroom, I was finally able to breathe.

I knew it was a bad idea going out to dinner with Jonah, but
I'd let myself anyway. How was he going to react when I told him
what I was?
If I told him.
I could tell he was into me, but my long-standing rule was no
shifters. Not that I'd had many opportunities to date tritons or
wolves. Even the elite tritons I went to human high school with
steered clear of me. With humans, I could at least pretend I was a
normal human and then leave the next morning.
I turned on the water and washed my hands before splashing my
face with cold water. My aversion to food with tentacles had started
soon after I grew them myself. Anytime someone talked about
eating one, it made me feel sick.
My life was defined as being before tentacles and after tentacles.
Before tentacles, I'd have devoured a plate of calamari like no one's
business, but after tentacles? I'd rather eat dirt. It was like my body
saw them as family.
I laughed at how absurd I sounded and grabbed a few paper
towels to dry my face. My brain was not functioning properly with all
the news from my appointment. I needed to end this dinner with
Jonah and get home before I did something stupid... like sleep with
him.
 He was an attractive man, and even though I'd tried not to look
down when I'd met him in the forest, I had. I wasn't usually turned
on by dicks, but his appealed to me. It had been way too long since
I'd been laid. That was probably why I suddenly felt like jumping
him.
But he wouldn't want a one-night stand. I could see it in his eyes
and the way he went out of his way to touch me. Even on the short
drive to the restaurant, he'd moved his arm so his brushed against
mine as if he was desperate to touch me in any way possible.
Looking in the mirror, I tried to remind myself that no one could
see the monster that lurked beneath. But why did it have to feel like
they could?
The bathroom door opened, and I jumped, having been lost in
my thoughts. A woman with black hair down to her waist and a
black dress that hugged her in a way that even had me staring at
her figure walked in.
Turning back to the mirror, I paid her no mind as she walked
behind me, heading for a stall, but then she stopped. Her green eyes
met mine, and a chill spread down my spine, every hair on my body
feeling like it was standing on end.
She grabbed my arm and spun me before I even could process
what she was doing, her grip like a vice on my arm.
"Hey!" I tried to pull away, but she grabbed my other arm, her
nails digging into my sensitive skin.
Her eyes rolled back in her head, and then she shut them. In a
split second—not even enough time for me to react and fight back—
they opened and were solid black.
"Olivia." Her voice was distorted, as if it wasn't her own

T hey ' re creatures that the gods fear, but together as one, you'll see
clear.
With the guidance of your dagger, you'll have all the power.
When their blood is yours to keep, they will pull you from the
deep.
T he fire that consumes you will be eased by one from the flame.
When you fall, the one from the sky will catch you.
When time is running out, the wild one will hold you tight.
The one from the moon will guide you as darkness weighs you
down.

M any obstacles you ' ll face , and enemies will give chase.
Warnings of danger you must heed, or you will all bleed.
Creature of the deep, forever you will sleep.

S he let me go as soon as the last word left her lips and fell to the
ground like a sack of potatoes, her head hitting the tile with a crack.
My entire body was shaking as I backed up into a stall door, nearly
stumbling backward into the toilet.
What. The. Fuck. Was. That?
She started to move, a groan leaving her as she pushed herself
up onto her elbows. When her eyes met mine from across the
bathroom, they were green again, with worry written in them.
I took a cautious step forward but then stopped, not sure if she
was going to go all evil eyes on me again. "Do you need me to call
an ambulance?"
"No." She rubbed at her eyes and turned to look at the door
seconds before there was a knock. With a quick flick of her hand
through the air, the door unlocked. I hadn't even known she'd locked
it.
Whoever had knocked didn't come in, but maybe that was for the
best. There was no question now that she wasn't human, and the
last thing we needed was for a human to walk in on this chick
shifting.
My spine tingled, and I took a calming breath. I'd never heard
about anyone possessing magic to make things move. But before I
had tentacles, I'd also not known other types of shifters existed.
Screaming wasn't an option. This situation would look like I'd
been the one to attack her instead of the other way around. But she
hadn't exactly attacked me, had she?
I'd left my purse at the table, which was a stupid idea now that I
thought about it. She was between me and the door, and I didn't
know if I should run or ask her questions.
"That's not good. Not good at all." She seemed to still be
snapping out of what had happened to her.
"What just happened?" Sensing she wasn't a danger any longer, I
grabbed a few paper towels and got them wet, handing them to her.
She gave me a grateful smile and took the paper towels, bringing
them to her face. "Something that shouldn't have happened."
There was a louder knock on the door, and it cracked open.
"Olivia? Are you okay in there?" Jonah peeked his head in, his eyes
first falling to the floor where the woman was still sitting, and then
to me. "Harlow? What the hell is going on in here?"
How the hell did he know her?
"Come in and lock the door." Harlow grabbed onto the edge of
the counter and pulled herself up, wobbling in her stiletto heels.
"You're just as much a part of this as she is."
"Part of what?" Jonah must have known her well enough because
he came into the bathroom and locked the door as she had directed.
He looked at me. "Did you… knock her down?"
"What? No, she-"
"Get out your phone, Jonah. I need you to record this before it's
gone from my memory." Her arms shook as she held onto the
counter.
"Does someone want to tell me what the fuck is going on?"
Jonah shoved the phone toward her. "It's recording."
She repeated word for word what she had said, her eyes darting
over to mine as she said the last line. My heart sped up as I tried to
process what the words meant.
"What the hell was that?" Jonah pulled his phone back and
stopped the recording.
 She threw the wet paper towels in the trash. "It's a prophecy,
sent through me to Olivia."
Jonah laughed. "A prophecy? Are you nuts? I should call-"
"No, I'm not nuts," she snapped, her voice taking on a no-
nonsense tone. "No one can know it was me who delivered it."
"Why? Have something to hide? Maybe a drug problem that's
causing hallucinations?" Jonah crossed his arms over his chest. "You
know, I always did get a vibe that you weren't a human."
"You have no clue what you're talking about." Harlow gritted her
teeth. "The prophecy isn't necessarily a bad thing. Didn't you hear a
word it said?"
I cleared my throat, bringing their attention back to me. The last
thing we needed was for Harlow to flick her hand and do something
to him. "What does it mean?"
Her eyes darted to the bathroom door before another knock
sounded. "I'm just the magical entity it was delivered through. I
won't be able to tell you the finer details since I'm not living it. Do
you have the dagger it speaks of?"
"You're a magical entity?" Jonah was still standing with his arms
crossed. I couldn't tell exactly what he was thinking, but he looked
as if he thought she was full of shit.
Harlow ignored him and looked at me for the answer to her
question. I would have thought she had a few screws loose too, but
I did have a dagger. "I have a dagger."
She smoothed her hands over her black dress and looked in the
mirror to check her hair and makeup. "It says the dagger will guide
you. I'd start there. And to answer your question, Jonah, I don't
practice magic anymore."
"Olivia is supposed to decipher a prophecy you randomly gave
her in the bathroom? Did my brother put you up to this?" Jonah
moved next to me and took my hand. "It's not funny."
I looked down at our connected hands in surprise but didn't pull
away. In fact, I moved closer to him, feeling like a magnet was
pulling us together.
"Sullivan has nothing to do with this, and it's not random. You'll
help her. She knows her time is running out, and based on the
prophecy, I'd take a wager that there are more than a few who want
that time to run out."
Why would anyone want that to happen, and how did she know
so much about me?
Jonah started to walk toward the door, his hand still holding
mine, and I started to follow. "We need to go to the coalition-"
"No!" Harlow grabbed him by the front of the shirt. "You can
never go to them. There can be none of their influence on this.
Prophecies are not to be meddled with by the gods, and going to the
coalition will get their attention where it's not wanted. Even if the
gods could help, they won't. The prophecy says they fear the
creatures she must find. If anything, they will indirectly attempt to
stop it from happening, and you two need to be cautious."
Jonah let my hand go and held his hands up in surrender. "I don't
see how we can decipher something that doesn't make sense."
"Use your brain… and Olivia's dagger. I can't help any more than
I already have. In a few minutes, I won't even remember this whole
thing." With that, Harlow let him go and walked out of the
bathroom.

M y appetite was ruined after whatever the hell had happened in the
bathroom, so we had our meals boxed up and left the restaurant.
We'd seen Harlow on the way out and she acted like nothing had
happened. Had she really forgotten?
We got into my car, and I looked over at Jonah, who had been
quiet since we'd stepped out of the bathroom. "How do you know
Harlow?"
He scrubbed a hand over his face. "She works for my brother's
family. Well, for Kingston. My brother is in a polyamorous
relationship. Not really sure what to call him if they aren't boinking...
or maybe they are. Who knows?"
"My brother is in a poly relationship too! I call them my brothers-
in-law, even though legally they aren't married to each other. I tried
calling him a concubine once, and that didn't go over well." I smiled
at the memory; Jax had flipped his lid, which was hilarious because
he treated Riley like his queen.
"I'll have to keep that one in mind." Jonah chuckled and grabbed
my hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the knuckles. "Are you
okay? Do you believe what she said?"
His kiss sent a wave of warmth through my body that pooled in
my lower belly. Now was not the time to let my sex drive run the
show.
"It felt like it was real. I don't know how to explain it, but it's like
my heart knew what she was saying was the truth." I slid my hand
away from his and opened up my center console, pulling out a
sheath with my dagger in it. "Plus, there's this."
It was my mom's, and before she died, she made my brother
promise to give it to me when I was old enough without my dad
knowing. I never asked any other questions, like why she had given
it to Jax and not to my dad to give to me, but maybe I should have.
I wrapped my hand around the hilt like I had a million times
before, but this time it felt... alive. "Um..."
I pulled the twelve-inch dagger from the leather sheath and met
Jonah's wide eyes. It was glowing very faintly, like it was heated by
flames.
Jonah reached a finger out and touched it. "It's not hot, but it
feels like there's... energy or something. Jesus, Olivia. What did she
mean your time was running out?" he asked quietly.
"I have no clue." The lie felt wrong, but I also didn't want to
burden him with my physical and mental ailments. "It's getting late.
I should take you to your brother's house so I can get home."
I put the dagger back in the sheath and in the console. I needed
to talk to my brother about it and also get some rest so I could
clearly think about everything Harlow had said.
With a sigh, Jonah put on his seat belt. "Is it safe for you to be
alone? She said something about people chasing you and obstacles.
If we believe what she said is true, you could be in danger."
"I need to go home." That wasn't a lie. I had medicine I needed
to take that helped suppress the urge to shift every time I came into
Another random document with
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The Project Gutenberg eBook of Tattle-tales
of Cupid
 This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United
States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with
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eBook.

Title: Tattle-tales of Cupid

Author: Paul Leicester Ford

Release date: September 9, 2023 [eBook #71597]

Language: English

Original publication: New York: Dodd, Mead and Company, 1896

Credits: Richard Tonsing, Charlene Taylor, and the Online

Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
(This file was produced from images generously made
available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TATTLE-

TALES OF CUPID ***
Transcriber’s Note:
New original cover art included with this eBook is
granted to the public domain.
 TATTLE-TALES OF CUPID

Books by Paul Leicester Ford

THE HONORABLE PETER STERLING

THE GREAT K. & A. TRAIN ROBBERY
THE STORY OF AN UNTOLD LOVE
THE TRUE GEORGE WASHINGTON
 TATTLE-TALES
OF
CUPID

TOLD BY

PAUL LEICESTER FORD

❦

NEW YORK
DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY
1898
 Copyright, 1896,
By Harper and Brothers.

Copyright, 1898,
By The Century Co.

Copyright, 1898,
By Paul Leicester Ford.

University Press:
John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A.
 TO MY PLAYMATE

My dear Doña:

Once upon a time two children read aloud together more or less
of Darwin, Spencer, Lyell, Goethe, Carlyle, Taine, and other writers
of equal note. Though the books were somewhat above their
comprehension, and certainly not so well suited to their years as
fairy-tales and romances, both the choice and the rejection were
deliberately made and consistently maintained. The discrimination
originated neither in excessive fondness of fact, nor in the slightest
dislike of fiction; being solely due to a greater preference for the
stories they themselves created than for those they found in books.
Presently, one of these two, having found a new playfellow, stopped
inventing and acting and living their joint imaginings, and the
other one had to go on playing by himself. But he has never
forgotten the original impulse, and so, in collecting the offspring of
some of his earliest and some of his latest play-hours, his thoughts
recur to the years of the old partnership, and he cannot please
himself better than by putting his playmate, where she truly
belongs, at the beginning of his “imaginary” playthings.
 NOTE

“His Version of It” is reprinted in this form by permission of the

Century Company.
“The Cortelyou Feud” is reprinted by permission of Messrs. Harper
and Brothers.
 Contents

Stories PAGE

His Version of It 3
A Warning to Lovers 49
“Sauce for the Goose” 87
The Cortelyou Feud 103

Plays
“The Best Laid Plans” 133
“Man Proposes” 197
 Tattle-Tales of Cupid

HIS VERSION OF IT

“She’s a darling!” exclaimed the bay mare, between munches of the

big red apple.
“That’s just what she is!” responded the off carriage-horse; and
then, as part of his apple fell to the floor, he added fretfully: “I do
wish, Lassie, that you girls wouldn’t talk to a fellow when he’s doing
something! You’ve made me lose half my apple!”
Old Reveille, with the prudence of twenty-eight years of
experience, carefully deposited the unmasticated fraction of his apple
beside an uneaten one in his manger before remarking reflectively:
“She’s a thoroughbred; but she’s not the beauty her mother was at
the same age.”
“Fie!” reproved one of the cobs: “how can you be so ungallant,
when she always gives you an extra apple or piece of sugar?”
“I call it shameful unfairness,” growled the nigh horse of the pair.
“She doesn’t keep you up till two or three in the morning at balls and
cotillions. She doesn’t so much as ride you in the park, as she does
Lassie or Bubbles. When you haven’t done a step of work in six years,
and spend your summers out in the pasture and your winters in a
box-stall eating your head off, why should you get a double portion?”
“Yes,” whinnied Bubbles, plaintively; “and, what’s more, she
always kisses you.”
Reveille, who meantime had swallowed his first apple, looked up
with a lofty smile of superiority. Then he slowly winked his off eye,
remarked, “Naturally, you don’t understand it,” and fell to lipping his
second apple caressingly, previous to the decisive crunch. “See if that
doesn’t drive the women wild,” he cogitated, with a grin.
“Now isn’t that just like a man!” complained Lassie. “As if it wasn’t
enough to get more than his share, but he must go and have a secret
along with it.”
“Huh!” grunted the polo pony, who was, of necessity, the brains-
carrier of the stable; “if it’s family property, it can’t be much of a
secret; for I never heard of anything to which six humans were privy
that didn’t at once become town gossip. And they must be aware of it,
for, from the Major to the Minor, they discriminate in favor of
Reveille in a manner most reprehensible.” The polo pony was famous
for the choiceness of his language and the neatness of his wit; but he
was slightly vain, as was shown by his adding: “Pretty good, that, eh?
Major—that’s the man we take out riding or driving. Minor—that’s
the three-year-old. Do you hitch up to that post?”
“Do they all know your secret, Reveille?” asked Lassie,
ingratiatingly.
“They think they do,” replied the veteran. “They don’t, though,” he
added; and then, heaving a sigh, he continued: “But the roan filly
did, and Mr. Lewis’s big grey, and dear old Sagitta—that was the
Russian wolf-hound, who died before any of you youngsters joined
our set.”
“Then I fail to perceive,” remarked the polo pony, “why they
should treat you differently, if they are ignorant of the circumstances
to which you refer.”
“My dear colt,” retorted Reveille, “when you are grown to
horsehood you will learn that we are all governed by our
imaginations, and not by our knowledge. Why do you shy at a scrap
of white paper? Superficially because you are nearly related to an ass,
actually because your fancy makes it into a white elephant.”
 “And how about your putting your head and tail up, and careering
all over the home lot, last summer, just because our Major fired his
revolver at a hawk? Were you an ass, too?” saucily questioned one of
the cobs.
“Probably,” assented the oldster, genially; “for that very incident
proves my point. What that shot reminded me of was the last time I
heard my Major fire his revolver. I saw a long, gentle slope, up which
a brigade of ‘secesh’ were charging to a railroad embankment
protected by a battery of twelve-pounders firing six rounds of case-
shot to the minute. And I was right among the guns again, seeing and
hearing it all; and my Major—only he was a captain then—was saying
as coolly and quietly as he orders the carriage now: ‘Steady, men,
steady! There’s a hundred yards yet, and they can’t stand it to the
finish. Double charge with canister! Three more rounds will settle
them.’ Which was just what it did. We horses, with the aid of the men
and guns, held the Weldon railroad, and Lee and his mules stopped
holding Richmond.”
“Doesn’t he tell a story beautifully?” remarked Bubbles, in a
distinctly audible aside to Lassie.
“I’ve never known a better raconteur,” answered Lassie, in a stage
whisper of equal volume.
“Lay you a peck of oats to a quart that the girls get that secret out
of him,” whispered the Majors saddle-horse, who, as a Kentuckian of
thoroughbred stock, had sporting and race-track proclivities.
“Not with me!” denied the second cob. “Besides, no gentleman
ever bets on a certainty. Gaze at the self-satisfied look on the old
fool’s phiz. Lord! how a pretty face and figure, combined with
flattery, can come it round the old ones!”
There could be no doubt about it. Reveille was smirking, though
trying not to desperately; and to aid his attempt, he went on, with a
pretence of unconscious musing, as if he were still in the past: “Yes;
we are ruled by our imaginations, and, consequently, though I have
reached the honourable but usually neglected period in life which
retires an officer and a horse from active service, I get a box-stall and
extra rations and perquisites.”
“How rarely is the story-telling faculty united with the
philosophical mind!” soliloquised Bubbles to the rafters.
 “And how rarely,” rejoined Lassie, “are those two qualities
combined with a finished, yet graphic, style!”
“I would gladly tell you that story,” said the old war-horse, “but it
isn’t one to be repeated. Every horse who isn’t a cow—to make an
Irish bull, which, by the bye, is a very donkeyish form of joke—has
done certain things that he has keenly regretted, even though he
believes that he acted for the good—just as brave soldiers will act as
spies, honourable lawyers defend a scoundrel, and good women give
‘at homes.’”
“What a decadence there has been in true wit!” remarked Lassie,
apropos of nothing. “It is such a pleasure to be put next a horse at
dinner whose idea of humour was formed before youthful pertness
was allowed to masquerade as wit.”
“It is a mortification to me to this day,” went on Reveille, “even
though the outcome has justified me. You know what our equine
code of honour is—how we won’t lie or trick or steal or kill, as the
humans do. Well, for nearly two months I was as false and tricky as a
man.”
“I don’t believe it,” dissented Bubbles.
“The truly great always depreciate themselves,” asserted one of the
mares.
“No, ladies, I speak the truth,” reiterated the warrior; “even now
the memory galls me worse than a spur.”
“It would ease your conscience, I am sure,” suggested Bubbles, “to
confess the wrong, if wrong there was. A highly sensitive and
chivalric nature so often takes a morbidly extreme view of what is at
most but a peccadillo.”
“This, alas! was no peccadillo,” sighed Reveille, “as you will
acknowledge after hearing it.”
“I may be a colt, but I’m not a dolt,” sneered the polo pony to
himself. “As if we weren’t all aware that the garrulous old fool has
been itching to inflict his long tail upon us for the last ten minutes.”
“My one consolation,” continued Reveille, “is that the roan filly
was in the traces with me and an equal culprit in—”
“I thought that one of the sex of Adam would saddle it on a woman
before he got through,” interjected the cob.
 “Cherchez la femme!” laughed the polo pony, delighted to trot out
his French.
“All I meant to suggest, ladies and gentlemen,” affirmed Reveille,
reflectively, “is that a woman is an excuse for anything. If this world
is a fine world, it is because she pulls the reins more often for good
than for bad.”
“‘Those who always praise woman know her but little; those who
always blame her know her not at all,’” quoted the worldly-wise
Kentuckian.
Reveille swallowed the last fragment of his second apple, cleared
his throat, and began:—
“It was after Five Forks, where my Captain got a major’s oak-leaf
added to his shoulder-straps, and a Minié ball in his arm, that the
thing began. When he came out of the hospital—long before he
should have, for the bone had been shattered, and took its own time
to knit—we hung about Washington, swearing at our bad luck, my
Major suffering worse than a docked horse in fly-time from the little
splinters of bone that kept working out, and I eating my head off in
—”
“History does repeat itself,” murmured the envious carriage-horse.
“Well, one day, after nearly three months of idleness, when I was
about dead with stalldom, I permitted the orderly to saddle me, and
after a little dispute with him as to my preferences, I let him take me
round to Scott Square. There for the first time I met the roan filly and
the big grey. She was a dear!” he added, with a sigh, and paused a
moment.
“Ah, don’t stop there!” begged one of the ladies.
“Get a gait on you,” exhorted the cob.
Reveille sighed again softly, shook his head, and then came back to
the present.
“‘May you never lack for oats and grass,’ said I, greeting them in
my most affable style.
“‘May you die in clover,’ responded the grey, nodding politely.
“‘May you have all the sugar you desire,’ added the filly, sweetly,
and greeting me with a graceful toss of the head. That told me that a
woman belonged to her, for men never give sugar. Sometimes, on a
forced march, my Major used to divide his ration of hardtack with
me; but I never tasted sugar until—well, we mustn’t get ahead too
fast.”
“No danger, while he is doing the lipping,” grumbled the
disagreeable cob.
“‘I see by your saddle that you are in the service,’ remarked the big
grey. ‘I am not so fortunate. Between ourselves, I think the fellow I
let ride me would do anything sooner than fight—though, now it’s all
over, he says if he’d returned from Europe in time he should have
gone into the army.’
“I shook my head dejectedly. ‘I’m very much off my feed,’ I told
them. ‘My Major is not able to ride, and won’t be for a long time, so
I’m horribly afraid I’ve been sold. I really wouldn’t have believed it of
him!’
“‘What things man is capable of doing!’ sighed the filly, with tears
of sympathy in her eyes.
“‘Cheer up, comrade,’ cried the grey, consolingly. ‘Even if you are
sold, you might be worse off. You are still a saddle-horse, and as Miss
Gaiety and I both have good stables, you probably will have the same
luck, since you are in our set. The fellow I carry spurred my
predecessor, when he was leg weary, at an impossible jump in
Leicestershire, and because he fell short and spoiled his knees the
brute ordered him sold, and he was put to dragging a huckster’s cart,
besides being half starved. You’re not so bad off as that yet.’
“Just then three people came out of the house before which we
were standing, and I can’t tell you how my heart jumped with joy,
and how my ears went forward, when I saw that one of them was my
Major. For the instant I was so happy that I felt like kicking up; but
the next moment I was ready to die with mortification at the thought
of how I had cheapened him to strangers. Think of my saying such
things to them of the best man that ever lived!
“‘That’s my Major,’ I told them, arching my neck and flicking my
tail with pride. ‘He held the Weldon railroad without—’”
“But you told us a little while ago,” protested Lassie, “that—”
“Yes, yes,” hastily broke in the story-teller with a note of
deprecation in his voice. “Don’t you see, girls, that having just
belittled him, I had to give him the credit of it, though really we
horses—But there, I won’t go into that now.”
“That much is saved!” muttered the cob.
“Walpole,” said the polo pony, “well described a certain period of
life when he denied that a man was in his dotage, but suggested that
he was in his ‘anecdotage.’”
“It was far from my intention—” Reveille began, with dignity.
“I do wish you would bridle your tongues, the two of you,” snapped
Bubbles. “It’s just what I should expect of a colt that has never seen
anything better than a poplar ball and a wooden mallet, and so
dislikes to hear of real battles. Please pay no heed to him, Mr.
Reveille.”
“We don’t notice either of them one curb or snaffle bit,” declared
Lassie, “so why should you? Forgive me for interrupting you, and do
tell us what you told the steeds about our Major?”
Reveille hesitated, and then resumed his tale: “‘His battery held
the Weldon railroad without any infantry supports,’ I told them,
adding, ‘Sheridan’s right-hand man. Perfect devil at fighting, and the
kindest human in the world.’
“The roan filly, being a woman, answered: ‘He looks both;’ but the
grey, being something more stupid, remarked: ‘Then what made you
think he had sold you?’
“‘Dear Mr. Solitaire,’ cried the mare, ‘you must know that we all
say things in society, not because we think them, but to make
conversation. I knew Mr.—thank you, Mr. Reveille—was joking the
moment he spoke.’ I tell you, gentlemen, women can put the blinders
on facts when they really try!
“‘What do you think of my Felicia?’ asked Miss Gaiety.
“I had been so taken up with my dear that I hadn’t so much as
looked at hers. But, oh, fellows, she was a beauty! Filly built, right
through—just made to be shown off by a habit; hair as smooth as a
mare’s coat, and as long and thick as an undocked tail; eyes—oh,
well, halter it! there is no use trying to describe her eyes, or her nose,
or her mouth, or her smile. She was just the dearest, loveliest darling
that I ever did see!
 “Mr. Lewis was putting her up, while my poor dear stood watching
them, with a look in his face I had never seen. Now, when there was
anything to be done, my Major was always the man who did it, and it
puzzled me why he had let Mr. Lewis get the better of him. The next
instant I saw that his right arm was still in a sling, and that his
sword-sash was used to tie it to his body. Then I knew why he had an
up-and-down line in his forehead, and why he bit his mustache.
“‘Can I give you any help, Major Moran?’ asked Mr. Lewis, when
he had helped Miss Fairley mount.
“‘Thanks, no,’ answered my pal, rather curtly, I thought; and
putting his left hand on me, into the saddle he vaulted. But he was
foolish to do it, as he said ‘Ouch!’ below his breath; and he must have
turned pale, for Miss Fairley cried out, ‘Mr. Lewis, quick! He’s going
to faint!’
“‘Nothing of the kind,’ denied my backer, giving a good imitation
laugh, even while his hand gripped my neck and I felt him swerve in
the saddle. ‘Miss Fairley, I will not let even you keep me an
interesting invalid. If there was any fighting left, I should long since
have been ordered to the front by the surgeons; but now they wink
their eyes at shirking.’
“‘I told you you ought not to go, and now I’m sure of it,’ urged Miss
Fairley. ‘You’ll never be able to control such a superb and spirited
horse with only your left arm.’”
“Bet that’s a subsequent piece of embroidery,” whispered the polo
pony to his nearest neighbor.
“Now, I have to confess that I had come out of the stable feeling
full of friskiness, and I hadn’t by any means worked it off on the
orderly, much of a dance as I’d given him. But the way I put a check-
strap on my spirits and dropped my tail and ears and head was a
circumstance, I tell you.
“‘There’s not the slightest cause for alarm,’ my confrère answered
her. ‘The old scamp has an inclination to lose his head in battle, but
he’s steady enough as a roadster.’
“‘I really wish, though, that you wouldn’t insist on coming,’
persisted Miss Fairley, anxiously. ‘You know—’
“‘Of course, Miss Fairley,’ interrupted my Major, with a nasty little
laugh, ‘if you prefer to have your ride a solitude à deux, and I am in
—’
“‘Shall we start?’ interrupted Miss Fairley, her cheeks very red, and
her eyes blazing. She didn’t wait for an answer, but touched up the
filly into a trot, and for the first mile or two not a word would she say
to my colleague; and even when he finally got her to answer him, she
showed that she wasn’t going to forget that speech.
“Well, what began like this went from bad to worse. He wasn’t
even aware that he had been shockingly rude, and never so much as
apologised for his speech. When Miss Fairley didn’t ask him to ride
with them the next day, he ordered me saddled, and joined them on
the road; and this he did again and again, though she was dreadfully
cool to him. My dear seemed unable to behave. He couldn’t be
himself. He was rude to Mr. Lewis, sulky to Miss Fairley, and kept a
dreadful rein on me. That week was the only time in my life when he
rode me steadily on the curb. My grief! how my jaw did ache!”
“I wish it would now,” interrupted the cob, sulkily. Let it be said
here that horses are remarkably sweet-natured but this particular
one was developing a splint, and was inevitably cross.
“Don’t be a nag,” requested one of the mares.
“The roan filly always blamed my Major for making such a mess of
the whole thing; but even though I recognised how foolish he was to
kick over the traces, I saw there were reasons enough to excuse him.
In the first place, he enlisted when he was only nineteen, and having
served straight through, he had had almost no experience of women.
Then for six months he had been suffering terribly with his arm, with
the result that what was left of his nerves were all on edge. He began
to ride before he ought, and though I did my best to be easy, I
suppose that every moment in the saddle must have caused him
intense pain. Finally, he had entered himself for the running only
after Mr. Lewis had turned the first mile-post and had secured the
inside track. I really think, if ever a man was justified in fretting on
the bit my chum was.
“At the end of the week Miss Gaiety bade me good-bye. ‘I heard
Mr. Fairley say that we could now go back to Yantic; that’s where we
live, you know,’ she told me. ‘It’s been a long job getting our claim for
uniforms and blankets allowed, but the controller signed a warrant
yesterday. I’m really sorry that we are to be separated. If your