Seeking Her Mates Boxed Set: A Shifter Menage Serial (All Five Parts) Read online

  Various pairs fought, the winners moving to their own circle where they were clothed once again and prepared for the next round. Graeme was to compete in one of the final pairs.

  Lily’s eyes had migrated to the men who awaited their turns in a small area where Conor stood, attentively watching the spectacle before him. What was his plan? Surely he knew that he couldn’t win this thing.

  But before his turn came, Lord Graeme was called up to compete against a giant of a man named Dermott. Lily had noticed him as he stood out above the others; he must have been seven feet tall, at least. Something in him was barbaric and raw, as though the human were missing entirely. Whatever his déor was, she could sense that it dominated him.

  The two men proceeded into the ring, Dermott shifting almost immediately into a huge bear. Graeme paced around him, assessing his form while remaining in his human skin. He knew that a déor was not likely to attack a human; it would be dishonourable.

  He could see that the bear had enormous teeth and more enormous claws. But other than that, there was nothing in particular that would threaten his dragon. The bear would be slow, clumsy. And he didn’t seem like the sharpest knife in his drawer.

  And so Graeme moved towards Lily’s family, intending to shift there and to reveal his dragon to them before proving his worth in battle.

  He stood and bowed to them, smiling. As he stood up, he looked at Lily, pausing for a moment of eye contact with her. She found herself enjoying his face; it really was handsome. She could do worse than Graeme as a second mate.

  It was in that moment that a voice resonated through her mind as clearly as though Conor were standing right beside her. He was saying, “Grab him, pull him away. The bear intends to kill him. Do it now.”

  She could see Conor, still far off, but running towards her. He’d spoken to her with his gift, planting the words in her mind, and she knew that he meant business.

  Lily stood and darted towards Graeme, who was still in the midst of acknowledging her family. As she sprinted, she saw the enormous bear behind the young man, charging at full speed with its massive teeth bared.

  Without a word she grabbed Graeme’s arm. As she did so, she felt a hand on her shoulder, seeming to pull her sideways.

  In a moment she was shooting through time and space, her hand still firmly wrapped around Graeme’s forearm. The other hand remained on her, committed to hanging on as they leapt to modern-day London.

  And seconds later she stood once again in her spacious flat, Lord Graeme standing disoriented before her and the hand which had been on her shoulder sliding down her back. Without turning she knew that it was Conor’s, and that he had made the trip alongside them.

  And she felt in that moment that perhaps she had found her way to her mates, albeit in an unconventional manner.

  But she needed to be certain.

  “I suspect that you have a few questions for me,” she said to the enormous man who was now holding his head, attempting to figure out what had just occurred. “But first perhaps you could tell me, Lord Graeme, why a gigantic bear seems so hell-bent on assassinating you.”

  * * *

  19

  Escape, Chapter One

  It was from high above a wind-swept beach that Graeme Ramsey’s dragon had first set his eyes on Lilliana: princess, dragon shifter and prospective mate.

  In that moment his other senses had linked themselves to his sight, setting their focus on the feminine form outlined against the dark grey stone and shadowed backdrop that made up the deep cave on the Cornish coast. Though the object of his attentions was making a valiant attempt to conceal herself, Graeme managed to study her every feature.

  Of one thing his dragon had been immediately certain: below him on that shore stood the woman who should bear his offspring in future. The sudden, entrancing object of his sexual desire, every bit as lovely as the rumours had dictated.

  The wild surroundings had suited her perfectly, in his estimation. Like the rocky shore about her, the young woman possessed an untamed beauty which had left him immediately breathless. She was a daughter of nobility, yes—but also a daughter of shifters, and no doubt the hybrid dragon which resided within her was as fiery as her human appeared to be. She had the sort of disheveled look that came with having a wild, powerful entity woven into her being, bursting at times to escape its prison.

  He continued to watch her as he flew about, much as he played coy, pretending not to be remotely aware of her presence. And so he caught the way that her hair swept gently in the breeze, grazing the area around her bright eyes, the light skin of her delicate cheeks temporarily blemished by a few of her own dark fingerprints—no doubt marks from the sandy wetness of the cave’s floor or walls, coated in stone worn down over eons into dust.

  Graeme imagined her sitting on the ground and rising to tiptoe to the front of her hiding-place to watch the two shifters: her twin brother and this stranger in the form of a red dragon, flying about above the crashing waves in a spirited and playful competition for aerial dominance.

  He suspected that she didn’t yet realize how incredibly keen his senses were, how aware he was of every inch of her. But he knew full well that she was studying him as a prospective mate; a potential father to her future children, who alongside another man would bed her, make love to her, find his way inside that voluptuous form and enjoy her every curve for centuries to come.

  She would do nicely in the role of partner, his dragon confirmed as it came in for a landing on the beach. He could smell her on the air, her scent easing along the salt wind that met his flared nostrils. She was ready to mate, this one—that he knew as well. Ready, willing, though perhaps even a little frightened at the prospect.

  After planting his taloned feet, he altered into human form then walked slowly, a naked, muscular man, into the ocean; a deliberate move to show her this other body; the one she’d be with intimately, who would bind himself to her in every conceivable way…if such a thing were to come to pass.

  He wanted to let her know just what she was in for if they should find their way to each other as he hoped they would. And perhaps it was his dragon that filled him with the confidence that she would find him desirable, enticing, as he found her.

  The second he’d seen those bright eyes of hers he’d felt their bond, and the notion of surrendering her to another man—or men—already seemed like an impossibility.

  * * *

  On the morning of the Tournament, the competition at Dundurn Castle to determine who would be Lady Lilliana’s two mates, he’d seen her once again. This time she’d been dressed in elegant red silk, displayed proudly in her family’s seating area at the head of the field that was to be used for the shifters’ altercations.

  Graeme had fought and won battles against many foes over the years: flyers such as eagles and hawks, wild cats, bears. Nothing had yet found a way to hurt him. And nothing, on this day, would come close. He knew it in his bones: the championship would be his. And this woman would be his. Rather, partly his, to share with another man, another of his kind.

  That bit had never sat entirely well with him. But if it was the sacrifice he needed to make, it was one that he could and would accept. Foremost in the man’s mind was a sense of duty which he had always shown the utmost respect—much as it occasionally conflicted with his desires. But he knew also that the most powerful shifters shared one female between two males. This granted them increased strength, and enhanced the gifts which they already possessed.

  And this was a strength that he would accept happily, readily.

  The only real question was who would be the third member of their trio; which man would partake in their Rituals. He’d looked around at the other competitors present, and none had stood out as particularly noble, powerful or impressive.

  But there was one man who seemed a world apart from the rest, literally and figuratively—not so much for his power as for his unusual abundance of humanity. While the others stalked around, preparing the an
imals within themselves for their projected moments of glory, this strange dark-haired man merely observed, seeming to take in information from a distance. He seemed to assess the situation at hand, almost as though he were reading the shifters’ expressions, rather than their fighting abilities.

  His eyes were bright and strange, but not entirely like those of a shifter. They seemed never to have settled on a colour or to have decided what they were, really; it was as though his déor sat in wait inside him, anticipating what it might become. Graeme found himself wondering if the man even had the ability to shift. If not, he would be killed. And it would be a pity; he seemed a worthy opponent, somehow. Although he was the least physically threatening man present, he also struck Graeme as the most interesting.

  The stranger held a secret, confined somewhere deep within. He was no brute; if anything he appeared gentle, unscarred. Inexperienced in the art of combat, most likely. His thick, dark hair was an odd style, indicating that he was not from around these parts, or that he had a love of sharp objects which sheared him far to close to the scalp for Graeme’s taste. And his clothing, which fit him rather poorly, seemed not to suit him. It had been made for one who could transform into a beast.

  After a time, Graeme stopped contemplating the man and instead focused on the Tournament which had begun.

  Before twenty minutes had passed, shifter after shifter had been taken down, most in messy, undisciplined fights by men who had no idea what they were doing, no experience of déor-to-déor battle.

  And after a time, it was his turn. He was called up against a large brute of a man: a bear shifter. He’d handled their kind before.

  Unlike all the other fighters, the pseudo-barbarians who had fought before him, attacking one another in gladiator-style sparring matches, Graeme chose to adhere to noble tradition and to take the time to approach the family in order to pay his regards. His opponent remained in the background, no doubt too clueless to follow suit and show the respect that was due.

  Graeme’s eyes locked first on Lady Lilliana, his anticipated prize. This time, he would not pretend that he failed to see her; instead, he looked directly into her inquisitive eyes, waiting for her acknowledgment and the quiet smile which appeared after a moment. It was, he told himself, a look of approval and of attraction.

  When he’d satisfied his need for connection he politely looked towards each member of her family, acknowledging all of them with reverence. He employed the time to contemplate his strategy: shift, take the bear down in two seconds flat, and then bow to the family once again while still in his dragon form. A simple task, really. And one that would hopefully please the object of his desire.

  It was when he began to turn back to his foe, the man who had been standing at least one hundred feet away, that Graeme’s plan was interrupted by a deep, percussive sound and the trembling of the ground beneath his feet. He could hear a rumble as deep as that of a herd of charging horsemen coming from the direction of his opponent.

  Young Lord Ramsey lifted his right arm and rapidly pivoted his body towards the sound. Whether it was one bear or ten coming at him, he would stop the rampage, and the family would witness the range of his talents in one quick blow.

  But in that moment the world stopped suddenly and then spun in frantic spirals as he seemed to fall into a bottomless chasm. And then all went dark and light at once. The bear assassin was no more. And a woman, surrounded by a veiled halo of bright light, stood before him, her chest heaving and her breath heavy. Behind her, the strange dark-haired man whom Graeme had seen on the tournament grounds.

  In that room in another century stood an improvised threesome, and one that fate seemed to have decreed.

  20

  Escape, Chapter Two

  “Perhaps you could tell me, Lord Graeme, why a gigantic bear seems so hell-bent on assassinating you.”

  Lily stared at the M.an, impatiently awaiting an answer. She’d just pulled him out of the fourteenth century into the twenty-first in order to save his hide, after all, and it seemed that he owed her at least an explanation, if not his very life.

  The silent, frozen figure before her was handsome, noble, accomplished. But he was also a virtual stranger, and Lily had risked a good deal in snatching him from the jaws of death.

  The shifters’ Tournament had rules, and one very specific one was that the competitors were not to murder each other. And yet a very large bear had gone charging at this man with the clear intention of taking his life. Had Graeme been in his dragon form at the time it would have been a non-issue; a bear would have stood little chance against him. But a bear against a man of flesh and blood? That was another story.

  Men bled. Men died.

  The young woman stood in silence, her hands balled into tense fists as she waited for an answer. But she could see that Graeme was disoriented from their sudden flight through time and space, as Conor had been after his first such trip. It wouldn’t do, perhaps, to push him too hard. No, rushing him was not an option, but Lily had difficulty convincing herself of the virtue of patience.

  “Why, why, why did this happen?” she muttered quietly as she attempted to calm herself, seeming to address the air around her this time. When no answer came to her, she turned to the other man in the room, who had remained quietly behind her. He too had come through time alongside her and Graeme, but unlike Lily, he had a gift which might just offer an insight into the minds of the attacker and his victim.

  Lily had spent the previous night with this second man, firmly tucked under his strong arm in a state of euphoria unlike anything she’d ever known. Conor was her lover now; her first and only lover. And she hoped that he would become a permanent fixture in her life, alongside whatever other man would complete their threesome as her second mate. Anyone who could excite her half as much as he did would do nicely. Graeme Ramsey had been a contender, but if she discovered that he was corrupt in some way, she would happily discard him like a used tissue.

  “Perhaps you already know the answer to my questions, Conor?” she said as her eyes pleaded for a response, staring up into the man’s own. “Our friend here seems to be having difficulty with his train of thought.”

  Graeme remained silent, still seemingly frozen, fixed to the floor.

  “He is indeed, unfortunately,” said Conor. “He’s in shock from the time-leap. And yes, I do have some of the answers you’re looking for.” The large-framed man maintained a protective stance as he stood over her. In spite of the fact that he was not able to shift as the other two were, he would have fought and given his life, if necessary, to protect Lily. Even against a disoriented dragon shifter.

  “It’s not young Lord Ramsey’s fault,” Conor continued. “He did nothing to provoke the attack. He may be a touch arrogant, maybe a little full of some sort of antiquated dragon-pride, but that’s not much of a reason to murder him.”

  “So you can read him? His mind, I mean?” asked Lily, feeling a little awful about speaking of Graeme as though he weren’t there. But this was good news.

  Conor had never been able to penetrate her mind to read it clearly; at least that was what he’d told her. But he was able, she’d discovered, to send a remote message, as though he’d implanted a computer inside her head meant only for their private communiqués. It was one of these mental texts, a desperate message from his mind to hers, that had prompted the rescue of Lord Ramsey in the first place.

  Conor continued. “Yes, my beautiful Lilliana, I can read his thoughts. Or rather, I can see them—a little at least. But Graeme’s mind is veiled like your own, and hard to penetrate. That idiot bear’s brain, on the other hand, was like a sieve, leaking information all over the place. Reading him was like leafing through a children’s book with big text and words like ‘Bear eat dragon. Bear kill everyone. Bear happy.’”

  Lily managed a quiet laugh. “So you’re saying that he was as big a thug as he appeared. And probably not there to try and win my dragon-maiden hand, thank God. I can’t say that he was rea
lly my type. I’m not into lobotomized beefcakes.”

  “No, not your type, I hope,” laughed Conor in turn. “I’d say he was well past thuggish, and quite a bit less intelligent than a sack of hair. And I’m saying that Graeme didn’t know anything about him. His only crime is having dragon’s blood running through his veins. The bear, it seems, had been ordered by another party to attend the tournament and to take out any dragon present.”

  “Well, I’m happy to hear that Graeme wasn’t engaged in some nefarious activities,” said Lily. “And glad to hear you defend him.” This was potentially a good start to the two men’s relationship.

  “He’s right to do so.”

  Lily started in spite of herself as the voice seemed to fill the room. It was Graeme who spoke now, his tone hoarse and strained, his body’s movements like those of a machine that had come to life. At last he was beginning to function; to be able to speak and to decipher the words being spoken around him; t0 grasp that he was alive and that his body was whole. His hands massaged his temples as though attempting to refocus his brain, all the time straining to allow coherent words to escape his lips. “And I think I know where the bear came from.”

  This was the first time Lily had heard the young man’s voice, she realized. His tone was low and smooth, his accent more Scottish than English. Of course, Graeme was from the Old World and would be unaccustomed to much of the modern use of the language. But Lily had picked it up quickly, and no doubt he would as well.

  All of it suited him well—he sounded as good as he looked, and she found her dragon once again perking up inside her, all too interested in the creature before it.

  The confused shifter continued: “I suspect that the bear was a member of one of the northern clans—my family’s old enemies. I didn’t realize he’d followed us south, to your own kin. I am sorry for it. I feel that I must take responsibility for his presence.”