Havermouth, Present TimeJules groaned as Harry stroked their hands over him. Being bound by the leather at wrist and throat, the collar preventing him from looking down and anticipating Harry’s next move, the cold stone against his palms and the soles of his feet, and the breeze through the still open exterior doors of the stables pricking against the water that clung to his skin, Jules was lost in sensation, drugged by desire.He had never fucked before until Harry, he thought. He’d had sex, and made love, but there had never been anything like this. Harry made Jules realize that he had always treated sex like takeaway food – he grabbed it when he was hungry, filled his stomach, and moved on. For Harry, it was a full degustation meal with paired wine. Each detail was carefully crafted, curated for pleasure, and savored for the experience.The stable in which he stood was an example of his mate through and through. Jules knew every item in the room, as he knew everything on his land.

Havermouth, Present TimeSamuel gazed out over the endless stretch of snow. The fine drift of flakes misted the sky, blurring the point at which land and air met. In the distance, smoke rising from amongst the white was the only hint that a village was buried there, the walls and rooves of their houses lost beneath the fresh snowfall. The humans of the region had survived far worse, so he was not concerned for them. They knew well how to huddle together during the frost filled months of winter.When the snows melted, they would emerge with a new generation well on the way.The chamber behind him echoed with many voices raised in argument. The meeting had been in progress for many hours and had lost his interest as they rehashed the same points over and over again.“The bloodlines are under attack,” Ember’s voice rang out, silencing the argument. “There is simply no debating it. Already four lines are in danger. Ishiekiel and Salamen have brought the survivors into their own caves in o

Havermouth, Present TimeLyric decided that the winged man was harmless and discretely withdrew from Ember’s room, pulling the door shut behind her. She was pretty sure from the way the two dragons were gripping onto each other that they weren’t going to want an audience for the next part of their reunion.She headed towards the kitchen to prepare another meal for Niarthen, and had just finished slicing vegetables into a bowl, when the outside sensor light activated, illuminating the front porch, and showing a figure that could only be Harry through the glass. They were carrying Jules in their arms like a groom carrying a bride across the threshold.She debated opening the door for them but realized that both men were wearing nothing but robes, and instead grabbed the salad bowl and ducked into a crouch behind the kitchen counter. It would be very weird and hard to explain if they caught her there, she thought ruefully, but also far less embarrassing for everyone if they passed throug

Havermouth, Present Time** Trigger Warning – this chapter contains violence and the loss of a much-loved character **As fragments of wood and glass exploded towards them, Samuel reacted on instinct and shoved Ember down and under him. She cried out sharply in pain but he could not ask if she was injured as on the heels of the explosion, he could hear the rapid footfalls of boots, and distinctly sharp military exchanges as the room filled with soldiers. He stayed still, watching the drip of spilled whiskey over the edge of the bench and hoping it did not give them away as the house echoed with the sounds of invasion.Above, there was gunfire. Jules Edison and the vampire Harry would be up the stairs, Samuel reasoned. Harry would be capable of defending his mate, but he was concerned about the human girl, and the merman as glass shattered to the rear of the house.There was more gunshot from above, and someone yelled: “Shoot for his head!”Shit, Samuel grimaced. Vampires could survive

Rideten, Present TimeIn Stella’s kitchen, someone was cooking something that had filled the room with steam so that Aislen’s eyes stung, and her hair stuck to her face with damp. She could feel it turn to frizz and cursed the witches silently for turning it into a bad hair day.She could hear male voices from within the steam. Not her men, but other men, and whilst there were warlocks in the coven, those sheltering in Stella’s house were dominantly female, and therefore the number of male voices was unusual.She worked her way through the steam towards the table and stilled when she saw that the gathering was all dressed in black hooded robes, and pressed thick, shoulder to shoulder, so that she could not see the table for their masculinity.“It will be Rhett’s,” Phillip Salem spoke and Aislen made him out from amongst the hooded figures, his face just showing, the angle and the dark fabric mimicking hair making him look so much like Rhett that she was uneasy. “I need it to be Rhett’