R G Alexander Not in Kansas

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Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520

Macon GA 31201

Not in Kansas

ISBN: 978-1-60504-346-3

Edited by Bethany Morgan

Cover by Anne Cain

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written

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First

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electronic publication: November 2008

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Not in Kansas

R.G. Alexander

Dedication

For Cookie—Love is the reason. To my wonderful editor Beth and all my divas.

Special thanks to my Smutketeers, Lillian Feisty, Eden Bradley and Crystal Jordan, for

unconditional acceptance of my insanity.

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Chapter One

The storm rolled in from nowhere.

Five minutes ago the sky had been a cloudless, nearly blinding blue. Now, angry

black shadows skimmed the tall fields he’d been wandering aimlessly through, all on a

collision course toward each other.

Toward him.

There was no time to run. No safe direction. The deafening roar of the Furies

screaming his way had him covering his head and falling instinctively to the ground. For

a moment, time seemed to slow. He thought about his empty house. The long line of days

that had passed exactly as this one had. In silence. Alone.

He wished there were more exciting memories to flash before his eyes, and then he

just wished for a chance to make a few more. A chance to live.

Thunder cracked and his eyes squeezed shut as the hot, angry breath of the tempest

tore him away from everything he knew. His world went black.

Kansas was gone.

“I think it’s dead.”

“Don’t be daft, Lenard. Would it moan like that if it were dead? And just think, if I

hadn’t gone left when you told me to go right, we’d never have seen it at all. Look, look.

Its eyes are opening. Ooh, pretty. I’ve never seen eyes like that before.”

Kansas took a breath. Blinked.

Blinked again.

His head was aching as if it had had a run in with the grill of a Mack truck. A

concussion would explain a lot—the creatures hovering over his body for instance.

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Certain he’d rattled his brain in the fall, he tried to play it cool. He didn’t want to

scream hysterically in front of what were probably normal, human looking paramedics

and end up going to the wrong kind of hospital.

“I was…there was this storm and…” He slowly raised himself on his elbows and

looked around. “It must have taken me farther than I thought. There aren’t any woods

like this on my property.”

“His eyes are the blue of the Krentyn Sea. His hair is pale as the butter flower. And,

Fenna, look. He’s golden, but not all over like the King and his men. Parts of this one are

pale. Like fresh cream.” Kansas felt his eyebrows touch his hairline as the fine, reddish

fur covering the young man in front of him rose and trembled, standing on edge like an

agitated cat.

Kansas ran a hand through his hair, searching for the wound he was sure he would

find. Nope. Not even a bump. Maybe he was still unconscious. This could be a dream,

right? He was lying in the woods listening to a dainty bird-woman and a large, muscular

male cat with humanoid features discuss his physical attributes as if he couldn’t hear

them.

Yes. Definitely a dream.

The female above him twittered. “You and your cream, Lenard. I can see you’ve

already made up your mind to like this one.”

She caught Kansas’s gaze and inclined her head to a level below her companion’s

waist. Kansas swallowed hard. He wasn’t altogether sure Lenard liking him was a good

thing. Although he had to admit the engorged shaft rising aggressively from between the

male’s thick thighs was impressive.

That clinched it. He’d been alone far too long. He even felt his own cock stirring in

response.

That’s when he realized he was naked.

“Shit! What the hell?” He jumped to his feet, covering his partial arousal with his

hands. A wave of dizziness washed over him and he stumbled, stubbing his toe. “Ow!

This doesn’t make any sense. It has to be a dream. But why can’t I wake up?”

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The beautiful angles of the female’s face softened. “Be at ease, sea-eyed one. You

say a storm brought you here?”

Her head tilted thoughtfully at his nod. “I haven’t heard of anything like that since I

was a flightless babe at my greatmother’s knee. But it’s obvious to anyone with eyes that

you’re no Crow Warrior. You definitely aren’t from around here.”

“Crow Warrior?”

She sent a telling look to Lenard. “Well, I suppose there’s nothing for it but to take

you to the king. Lenard will like that, won’t you, Lenard? A chance to pay your respects

to our king?”

“Yes, Fenna.” Lenard’s voice shook at the prospect. If his cock, jerking and growing

even larger before their eyes, was anything to go by, he apparently really liked his king.

Kansas forced his gaze back to the female.

“I can’t go anywhere with you. First of all, I’m pretty sure I’m hallucinating.

Secondly, well, I have nothing to wear. And hallucination or not, I’m not moving from

this spot as long as I’m naked.” He didn’t mention that the two creatures before him were

naked as well, though they at least had some covering in the form of feathers and fur.

Feathers and fur. Another possibility struck him. Maybe there’d been no storm at all.

Maybe he’d finally gone round the bend, the way his uncle had sworn he would when

Kansas had left the world he’d known all his life for the solitude of the family farm all

those years ago.

Five years alone, with only the bi-monthly trips into town to remind him that other

people were still wandering the world. Still going about their lives without him. But he

hadn’t wanted to know. Maybe his determination to hide from reality had finally driven

him insane.

“We can fix that, sea eyes. But first, do you have a name? A people you belong to? I

am called Fenna. I belong to the Glider Clan. This is Lenard. As you can see, he is a

Felix.”

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Lenard blushed at the mention of his name. The youthful excitement in his slanted

ebony eyes did something to Kansas. Long forgotten memories he immediately and

violently pushed down. What had Fenna asked him again?

“Kansas. My name is Kansas Frayne. I don’t belong to any clan. I mean, well, I’m

just a regular guy from Iowa if that’s what you’re asking.” She continued to watch him, a

blank expression on her face. “I’m human.”

He watched the two share a look at the word “human” and his stomach dropped. He

had a feeling he wasn’t in Iowa anymore. He started to shiver, realizing as he did the light

that had been filtering through the trees was quickly fading. His balls felt like they were

trying to crawl back inside his body. “You said you had something for me to wear?”

“Yes, of course.” Fenna slid a strap over her shoulder, revealing a small backpack

made of shimmering red fabric. As she dug through her bag, Kansas studied her.

She was strange yet stunning. She had the overly slender frame of a young girl, but

her dark eyes had studied him with a curiosity that was unmistakably adult. Opalescent

feathers covered her head in a tight swirling cap, circling down her graceful neck. They

framed her breasts and belly and the smooth skin between her thighs, leaving her sex

bare. The feathers running from her shoulders down the underside of her arms were

longer and thicker, but no less beautiful.

Lenard was beautiful too. Kansas could see the strong muscles beneath the red hair

that covered nearly all of his body. His face was narrow, lips full and lush, but without a

doubt, from his ears to the—Kansas gulped—tail twitching behind him, Lenard was

definitely feline.

“I have to ask, just in case. There isn’t a special effects studio around here

somewhere, is there? Or maybe a costume party? ’Cause if there is, you two would

definitely win first prize. And I know I’d feel a hell of a lot better.”

Lenard shrugged at Fenna’s expression of confusion, and Kansas sighed. That settled

that. He reached for the towel-length fabric she handed him, grateful for the covering. He

quickly wrapped it around his waist, tying it in a firm knot.

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“Coma, hallucination or dream, who knows? Whatever it is it feels real enough. I

may as well go with it.”

He shrugged, throwing his arms wide. “Take me to your leader.”

Lenard sidled closer to Fenna, both looking at him as though unsure of what he

would do next.

“Nothing? You don’t get the reference? Come on, this is my brain you’re walking

around in. And I’ve always wanted to say that.”

Fenna nodded slowly, a cautious smile on her face. “Okay, sea eyes, whatever you

say. We can talk more about it on the way to the palace. The journey isn’t far. We should

be there before darkness tomorrow. Can you walk or does Lenard need to carry you?”

Lenard took a quick step forward, his grin giving Kansas pause. “No! I mean, no,

thank you. I can walk.” Shoes would be nice, but he wasn’t about to complain. The Felix

looked a little too…well…frisky for his peace of mind.

“Very well. Follow me, sea eyes. I know a shortcut.” Fenna turned to head into the

tree line, and Kansas caught Lenard’s resigned gaze. He shook his head subtly, dropping

his hands on Fenna’s shoulders to turn her gently in the opposite direction.

“Oh, of course.” She looked flustered. “That’s the way I meant to go. Sea eyes has

me a little out of sorts. It isn’t every day a human drops in from the sky you know.”

Lenard soothed her with soft, agreeable murmurs, glancing over his shoulder at

Kansas with a smile. Interesting. Weren’t birds supposed to have an outstanding sense of

direction? From Lenard’s expression, Fenna’s skills as a guide left a lot to be desired.

“I hate hiking,” he mumbled under his breath, following his unusual guides along a

small worn path through the woods. He studied his surroundings more closely. But he

guessed if he had to be trudging barefoot through an unknown countryside he couldn’t

have picked a better location. Never had he seen leaves so green. A forest so vital. Alive.

He felt several pairs of eyes watching him, though he couldn’t see any movement in

the brush as they passed. Were there other animals? Other creatures like Fenna and

Lenard?

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A therapist would have a field day with the new friends his imagination had

conjured. An easily aroused tomcat and a naked chick.

Sexual repression. That’s what they would say. And it wouldn’t be a lie. Cable

television, Internet access and a large supply of lube was no replacement for human

contact.

Kansas promised himself that as soon as he woke up, he’d start dating again. He may

be a little rusty, a thirty-five-year-old who hadn’t had a first date in years. But he wasn’t

looking for love. Those dreams had died a lifetime ago. He just wanted dinner, a little

dancing. And sex. Sex would be good. If he still remembered how to do it after all this

time.

Lenard had pulled a few of the large, wax-covered fronds from some nearby

branches, and he was weaving as he walked. Kansas caught up with him, looking over his

shoulder to see what he was up to. “What are you doing?”

“Lenard is very creative,” Fenna answered as she marched determinedly ahead of

them. “He could make a binding knot out of anything.” She held up her arms, pressing

her wrists together as if she were handcuffed.

Kansas coughed, falling back after hearing that bit of information. Add kinky to his

future therapist’s diagnosis. He was sexually repressed and kinky.

A while later he was thinking of adding masochist to that list as he limped along,

falling farther behind and wondering why he was punishing himself with this grueling

walk when he could have dreamt up a relaxing trip to Tahiti. He nearly ran into Lenard

who had stopped and turned his way.

“Finished.”

Kansas took a step back, holding his hands up in warning. Visions of being trussed

up to the nearest tree as the young man’s plaything flashed though his head. “I really

don’t need any binding knots. Thanks.”

Lenard chuckled. “No binding knots. These are for your feet. I noticed you have no

natural pads or calluses. These will protect your skin.”

Shoes? He’d been making him a pair of shoes?

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“I don’t know what to say.” Kansas leaned against the thick trunk of a nearby tree

and slid on the soft footwear Lenard handed him.

They fit. And felt amazing. Kansas closed his eyes blissfully.

“You’ll feel a cool liquid substance release when you take your first few steps. It will

ease your wounds.”

Kansas couldn’t contain his smile after taking a step to test Lenard’s claims. His feet

felt infinitely better. The scrapes and blisters that had been forming on his heels were

instantly soothed. He was so grateful he wanted to hug the big, hairy guy, but managed to

hold himself back. “Thank you. These are amazing.”

Lenard acknowledged the compliment with a shy nod. Fenna’s arms were crossed,

her three long toes tapping impatiently. “Are you two ready? It will be full dark in less

than an hour and I’d like to camp near the watering hole so sea eyes can clean up before

meeting the king tomorrow.”

Looking worried, Lenard stepped closer to Fenna and lowered his voice. “The

watering hole? You wanted to camp at the watering hole?”

“Yes. Why?”

“We’re going the wrong way.”

“Oh, thank God.” Kansas had never seen a more welcome sight. The rippling pool of

luminescent emerald water at the base of a small waterfall was more than a “watering

hole”. It was paradise. He slipped off his newly made leaf shoes and untied the cloth at

his waist, desperate to cool off.

Another hour of racing to keep up with an angry, embarrassed Fenna had worn him

out. He’d almost asked why she didn’t let Lenard lead the way, but he’d seen the stricken

look that she couldn’t quite hide each time the Felix nudged her in the proper direction.

No matter how gentle his corrections, she’d been devastated.

Of course, she was more than making up for any vulnerability she may have felt

now. Kansas thought about what he’d seen before they’d pointed out the path to the water

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so he could make his escape. Lenard on his knees, clawed hands gripping his thighs,

while Fenna ordered him to pleasure her.

He was definitely not in Iowa anymore.

Kansas sighed in ecstasy as he took the first few steps into the water. He waded in

the chest-deep pool toward the smooth stone beneath the falls. He sat beneath the spray,

leaning back and allowing the water to massage his body. Heaven.

As wonderful as it felt, he couldn’t quiet his thoughts as he looked up at the alien

starscape above him. Couldn’t stop his mind from weighing everything that had

happened and wondering if maybe, possibly, he wasn’t dreaming after all.

It was all so real. He ached, his feet hurt and he was starving. Not exactly the stuff

dreams were made of. Not to mention Fenna and Lenard. His imagination had never been

this good.

Danny had been the writer. He’d always had a great imagi— No. Kansas hadn’t

thought about him in years and he wasn’t about to start now.

But the floodgates had been opened. Something about Lenard, the youthful beauty,

the eagerness to please reminded Kansas of the past. The past he’d spent years trying to

bury.

Danny.

The last in a long line of relationship mistakes. The man Kansas had believed was

finally the one. He’d known Danny was young, only in his mid-twenties, but he’d seemed

so together when they’d first met. Like someone he could make a life with.

Kansas had always had a tendency to be the dominant partner, the older father figure.

Uncle Emerson had called him the fixer. He liked to be needed, liked to take care of the

people he loved. Unfortunately in the dating world that usually translated into a babysitter

or, Kansas shuddered, a “sugar daddy”.

Danny had been a breath of fresh air. Young and creative, passionate and full of

laughter, but responsible as well. He’d put himself through school, was an editor for a

well-known publisher and wrote fantasy fiction in his spare time.

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The sex between them had been fantastic. But even better, for Kansas anyway,

Danny had seemed to want to be an equal partner in his life. Something Kansas longed

for.

He wanted what his parents had had. He wanted forever with the person he loved.

He’d thought Danny wanted that too.

A handful of forgiven “slips” with other men, a drained bank account and countless

empty apologies later, Kansas was done. He’d left Danny the apartment and the

convertible he’d given him for his birthday. He hadn’t wanted anything that reminded

him of what a fool he’d been. Again.

The inheritance his parents’ had left him ensured Kansas would never have to work a

day in his life. He always had of course. It was just his nature. Until Danny. After that,

he’d packed up his broken heart and headed to the family land in Iowa.

He’d spent a few years renovating the farmhouse, filling it with everything the

modern day hermit would need. Technology made it so easy to stay in isolation, an ease

he’d gratefully taken advantage of. And then…time passed.

Five years had slipped away so quickly. Five years alone because Kansas simply

couldn’t trust himself not to make another mistake. And the results of those errors were

too painful to endure again. He was meant to be alone.

Ahhhh. Soooo saaad. Shhhh. It’sss okaaay. Feel pleasurrrre.

“Wha—” He slid beneath the water in shock, coming up coughing and gasping for

air as he looked around, searching for the voice. “Who’s there? Lenard?”

A watery chuckle bubbled around his arms. He looked down. “Please don’t tell me

the water just spoke to me.”

Nooo feeear. Let usss make youuu haaappy.

“Us? What are you doing? Oh, shit, wait—”

The water pressed Kansas against the rock wall of the waterfall, the green liquid

forming tendrils that wrapped around his chest, his waist, his cock. “I appreciate this, I

do, but I’m fine. This really isn’t necessARY!” The word ended on a shout as a mouth of

warmer water swallowed the head of his hardening shaft.

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He parted the water with his hands, certain he would find a body attached to that

powerful mouth, but he saw nothing. Only the glowing water swirling around him.

Caressing him. Arousing him.

“Shit.” How long? How long had it been since something other than his own palm

stroked his cock? He closed his eyes and arched his hips, giving in to the exquisite

sensations. Too long. And this just felt too damn good.

Tongues lapped his nipples, his balls, nibbled on the cheeks of his ass. The tendrils

formed a hand that stroked his erection. “Yes. Oh God, yes.”

A loud rumbling purr alerted him to their presence. His heavy lids lifted and his gaze

immediately clashed with Fenna’s knowing gleam. She was sitting at the edge of the pool

on Lenard’s lap, his hand covering her breast as they watched him.

“Don’t mind us, sea eyes.” Kansas was held still by the powerful pull of the water.

He watched, mesmerized as Lenard lay on his back at the water’s edge. His clawed hands

positioned Fenna astride him, her back to the Felix, facing Kansas. He couldn’t look

away as the young feline lowered Fenna slowly onto his thick cock and began to fuck

her.

The sentient water wrapped around his erection matched Lenard’s rhythm. The

liquid mouth rippled and vibrated around his cock. It felt like a throat swallowing him

down, a fist squeezing like a vise around him.

In and out. In and out. An animal growl drew his attention to Lenard. His face tight,

more alien, more catlike than ever in ecstasy. And he was looking directly at Kansas, his

expression unmistakable.

He wanted to fuck him too.

Kansas pressed his palms back against the slick rocks, his feet digging into the small

pebbles beneath him, seeking purchase when the water began to slap excitedly against his

flesh, quickening with the pace of Lenard’s thrusts.

Yourrr tassste. Ssso different. Speciaaal.

Kansas heard the words but they didn’t make any sense. How could he be expected

to think while the water was separating the cheeks of his ass? The distinct shape of a

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tongue pressed against the tight, long neglected ring of muscles to push inside and he was

lost.

He’d rarely let anyone take him. Most of his past relationships wanted to be on the

receiving end of the pleasure, and he was more than happy to comply. But he wasn’t

immune to the powerful feelings rocking him as the phallic-shaped liquid filled his ass,

taking him harder than he ever would have allowed a partner to take him. Pounding

against him with the force of a small tsunami.

“Fuck, yes! I can’t wait. I can’t…” He stiffened, electricity shooting up his legs, his

spine. His hips pounded against the water as he came hard into the churning pool, the

climaxing screams of his guides joining his own low groans. So. Fucking. Good.

He sank onto the rock seat, boneless. The water kissed his chin, snuggling against

him affectionately, and Kansas sighed. The aftershocks of his release still shuddered

through his limbs and already he wanted more. It wasn’t enough.

This had been no more than glorified masturbation, no matter how real those mouths

had felt. He ran his hands softly through the water, palms curved in apology for his

thoughts.

S’okaaay, speciaaal onnne. You are meant forrr the kiiing.

He suddenly wondered if they had liquor in this world. He could really use a drink

right about now. He turned his head toward Fenna and Lenard, watching them splash

each other playfully, waiting for them to look his way.

“I’m not complaining but… Is this gonna happen every time I take a bath?”

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Chapter Two

“Fenna. Those men are wearing clothes. I need pants or I’m not going one step

further.”

Kansas was pissed. He’d woken to find himself still here. In the land of the crazy

animal people. Lenard said he really needed to stop calling it that or someone might be

offended. But when they told him what they actually called their world, he refused to

believe it, and it had him doubting his sanity once more.

“Why are you so obsessed with these pants? All your tender bits are covered. Lenard

even made shoes.” Fenna rolled her eyes and gripped his hand tighter in her own spindly,

long-fingered grasp, dragging him determinedly past the outer doors of the palace.

“You’re taking me to meet a king. In a castle. Filled with people wearing pants. I see

Gliders wearing pants, people who look like Lenard wearing pants. I don’t think I’m

being unreasonable here.”

He stopped again, jerking the smaller Fenna to a halt. “Come to think of it, why

aren’t you two wearing any clothes? No wait, don’t tell me. It’s all starting to make

sense.” He rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t enough to get dropped by a sadistic weather

anomaly into a completely different world, I had to land smack dab in the path of a

strange nudist cult. That’s why you won’t give me pants, right? It’s against your religious

beliefs?”

“Are all humans this irritating?” Fenna didn’t seem to expect an answer. Nodding to

Lenard, she tugged Kansas while he pushed from behind, propelling him forward once

more. “Clothing is optional in this world, sea eyes. An afterthought. The Crow Warriors

you see who live here? Well, they are just more modest than the other clans. Always have

been. And out of respect for them, most of the visitors to the palace follow suit. A shame

really.”

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So the Crow Warriors were the people who looked human. Or, mostly human. Their

skin had an unusual golden tint, not from the sun but a true, rich gold. Kansas had a hard

time believing it was their real hue. Maybe they painted themselves or applied gold

leafing. The effect was stunning. They seemed to glow in the light of day.

Everyone’s hair was black as night and their eyes all varied in shades from whiskey

to amber. And they were all looking at Kansas with intense curiosity—some with a level

of shocked surprise and fascination that made him decidedly nervous.

“If I get arrested for public indecency, I’m so taking you two with me.”

“Why would we arrest such an honored guest? Welcome, Kansas. I’ve been

expecting you.”

Fenna froze, leaving Kansas to bump into her back as momentum pulled him

forward. The towering Lenard fell to his knees, thighs spread and trembling with his

ever-present arousal thrusting toward the dark haired man.

Kansas shook his head in resignation at the Felix. Did everything arouse him? He

registered the stranger’s words and stilled in surprise. “Wait, how do you know my

name?”

Fenna punched his thigh as she too fell to her knees beside him. Her loud whisper

echoed through the marbled hall. “Show some respect, sea eyes. The wizard has amazing

powers. And the ear of the king.”

The wizard? Kansas rubbed his pained leg, glaring at Fenna. He looked up to study

the silently smiling man before them. He looked familiar. Like the hazy memory of a

childhood dream. But Kansas knew if he’d ever seen him before he would never have

forgotten it. Those features were too distinctive. That gaze too potently sexual. Intimate.

He didn’t look anything like what Kansas would have expected a court magician to

look like. No bushy white beard, pointy hat or flowing robes. The wizard’s long black

braid fell over one shoulder, the open white shirt revealing a lean golden chest, making

him look more like a pirate than a sorcerer.

And he’d been expecting him?

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“The king is in the receiving room. Your arrival seems fated, coming on the day of

receiving as it has. His subjects have come from every clan to air their grievances and

pay homage to their sovereign. You will be allowed to enter freely, to tell him of your

plight and make your request.”

“Request?” Kansas was mesmerized by the wizard’s sensual voice. It seemed to

weave around him, beckoning him closer.

“To return home of course.”

Kansas jerked in surprise when Fenna and Lenard both began to speak at once.

“You’re sending him back?”

“No! You can’t.”

The wizard broke eye contact first, looking down at Fenna. “Young Glider, please

take your friend and go forward to pay respects to the king. I will take care of this human.

Don’t worry. You will be properly rewarded for your loyalty.”

Lenard stood swiftly, gripping Fenna’s hand and shushing her when she would have

continued to protest. Kansas watched them go, and he couldn’t help the warmth that filled

him. They’d known him for only a day and already they were protective.

He could ask the king to send him home. Kansas had doubted his sanity, he’d

grumbled and groaned about the strange situation he’d been thrust into since he’d arrived

here yesterday, but he hadn’t imagined he would be allowed to go back to his farm. Or

that anyone had the ability to make it happen.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about the idea.

“Fenna and Lenard are good judges of character. I’m glad they’re the ones who

found you.” The wizard slid a hand out from behind his back, wrapping slender fingers

around Kansas’s forearm and guiding him down the imposing hall.

His skin tingled with static and heat at his touch. Who the hell was this guy? Why

was Kansas having such a hard time concentrating around him? And why were his eyes

drawn again and again to those thin, bronze lips?

The wizard drew him into a small, empty side room filled with cloaks and partially

mended clothing. “We should be able to find you something to wear that will make you

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more comfortable. From what I’ve learned, humans are a self-conscious, prudish people.

Although I must admit, I rather wish you’d stay as you are.”

Kansas narrowed his eyes at the smirking man studying the snug strip of cloth at his

waist with undisguised interest. “I’m up here, wizard. Now, are you saying that all I have

to do is ask the king to go home and poof—my wish is granted? And how did you know I

was here in the first place?”

“Please, call me Z. The king does. He says my name is too much of a…mouthful.

And he’s far too irreverent to call me wizard.” Z laughed, reaching into the pile of clothes

without looking and whipping out a pair of brown trousers.

Kansas took them, studying the fabric. It looked like pleather. “Turn around so I can

put these on.”

Z chuckled again, the darker tone causing Kansas to look up. “No, I don’t think I

will. Put them on and I’ll tell you what the king will do with your request.”

Kansas looked into the sorcerer’s eyes and felt another zap of arousal. Little tongues

of electricity jolted his skin at the thought of those eyes watching him dress. His cock

hardened. Prudish, huh?

He dropped the pants, his hands reaching for the knot at his waist a little defiantly. Z

wanted a show? Well Kansas wanted some answers. “Start talking, wizard.”

Z’s smile was devilish. “You have spirit, Kansas Frayne. And you’ll need it.

Especially with the king’s current frame of mind.”

The knot loosened.

“He’s the greatest ruler this world has ever known. Even at his young age he has

brought peace and prosperity to our lands, as well as a spirit of cooperation between the

clans that no one else has been…able to…um…manage.”

The fabric pooled at Kansas’s feet and Z’s voice faded, his attention focused in a

direction that had Kansas squirming with embarrassment and arousal. The first emotion

was understandable. The second was ridiculous, considering the circumstances. What

was wrong with him? “So, the king is a great guy. And?”

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“Yes.” Z coughed, the dark gold flush on his cheeks and his unblinking gaze telling

Kansas he liked what he saw. “That’s the problem. Maybe he’s too ‘great’. He has

nothing to challenge his interest. Nothing to conquer.”

Kansas put his hands on his bare hips, a secret part of him reveling in the handsome

wizard’s groan and the subsequent thickening of his erection. “What you’re saying is he’s

bored? How does that affect me?”

Z abruptly turned his back. “Kansas. Fair warning. If you don’t want me to bend you

over that table before you get your chance to meet the king, you’ll put those pants on.

Now.”

A shudder wracked Kansas’s body. He was actually tempted! Wasn’t that why he

was standing with all his bait and tackle hanging out for anyone to see? He shook his

head hard, trying to jar his mind back into place, and bent down to grab the pants. What

was wrong with him? He knew better.

“Okay, I’m decent.” He didn’t look up as he tried to figure out the unraveled front

lacings. “Sort of.”

The silence grew awkward while his fingers fumbled over the front closure. He was

used to buttons and jeans. Why would people wear something this complicated? Plus, he

doubted anyone had ever tried to do this with a hard-on.

He heard a pained sigh and then Z was there, lean fingers slapping his clumsy ones

away as the sorcerer began to lace him up. Kansas inhaled sharply at the feel of those hot

knuckles pressed against his shaft, only one thin layer of material between them and his

cock. “I don’t think you should—”

“Quiet. I can do this if you don’t speak. Try to listen. The reason the king’s current

malaise affects you is because you are different. Unique. Something new for him to study

and discover. Your eyes alone could fixate him for days.”

The wizard’s voice rasped against his chest. Kansas closed his eyes, focusing on his

breathing. “My eyes?”

“I’m sure you’ve seen for yourself how rare you are. How attractive.” The efficient

fingers had slowed. Each time a lacing was pulled through and tightened, Kansas was

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sure he felt an extra caress, a subtle pressure. He wanted to rub himself against Z’s hand,

but he couldn’t allow himself to come.

He may never get another pair of pants.

Z continued. “The only way you can get what you want, is to deny him what he

wants.”

“Huh?”

The wizard cupped him possessively, his voice low and intense. “He will want you

to submit to him, to give in and allow him to ask you a thousand questions. To experience

intimacy with a human. You must reject him. At least for now. That is, if you ever want

to go home.”

Kansas stepped back abruptly, the laces dangling as he stared at Z in disbelief. “Hold

the phone, what the hell are you talking about? ‘Experience intimacy’? Damn straight I’ll

reject him. If that’s what you’re worried about then you haven’t done enough homework

on humanity. I’m not the kind of man to give myself to anyone I’m not attracted to. No

matter who he is.”

Z’s smile was grim, his gaze knowing as he stared pointedly at the erection straining

against the lacings on Kansas’s pants. “Ah, but what if you are attracted? What if you

want him so much you can barely breathe for the need? Will you still reject him then?

Even if that is the only way you will ever be able to return to the world you knew?”

He followed Kansas and, without breaking eye contact, completed the lacings until

they were tied with a flourish. “I’m trying to help you, Kansas Frayne of Iowa.” The

wizard stepped back, turning in the direction of the main hallway.

“I’m trying to help you both.”

Kansas grabbed a shirt on his way out the door, but the sleeves were far too small for

his long arms, and they ripped as he forced it over his shoulders. “Damn.”

He pulled them off completely, shoving the torn fabric into a large vase filled with

flowers before following the wizard into the receiving room.

Great. Now he looked like a pleather-pantsed punk. Classy.

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“Sea eyes, over here.” The room was filled with people, but Kansas saw Fenna and

Lenard waving at him from a crowded corner closest to the door. Z caught his gaze and

nodded, and Kansas headed their way while the wizard continued toward the front.

“Nice outfit.” Fenna grinned, giving his arm a friendly squeeze. Kansas stuck out his

tongue and gave Lenard a wink that had the tall feline blushing. He was unusually glad to

see them.

“Thanks. Now will one of you kindly tell me who all these people are? And what

clan is that guy from?”

Lenard chortled when he saw where Kansas was pointing. “Equus Clan. They’re

always fun at parties. Arrogant, but they have the…uh…equipment to back it up.” Lenard

sounded enamored. Kansas, himself, found it hard to look away from the centaur-like

beings and their…equipment.

“And those women over there are Web Weavers. Stay away from them, they’re all

hands.” Fenna sounded sincere, but when Kansas caught her gaze they both burst into

hysterical laughter, drawing a few judgmental gazes.

Kansas wiped his watering eyes, still chuckling softly, when he saw one group

sneering with what he thought was an excessive amount of venom. They looked familiar.

“Fenna? Why are your people glaring at me like I’ve recently crawled out from under a

rock?”

“They aren’t glaring at you. They’re glaring at me.” Kansas heard the vulnerability

she couldn’t quite hide and turned his body protectively, shielding her from their stares.

“Why?”

Lenard and Fenna looked at each other in silent communication. Lenard spoke softly.

“He’s bound to find out sooner or later, Fenna.” He looked at Kansas. “Fenna and I are

both outcasts from our clans. Unacceptable. They probably think we shouldn’t be allowed

in the king’s presence.”

Kansas frowned and Lenard blushed, trying to explain. “The Felix are a very

dominant species. Male and female alike. They are strong and warlike—even their

mating rituals are a battle for supremacy.” He shrugged. “I’m different.”

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“You’re an artist. The kindest soul I know. Just because you aren’t a warrior…”

Lenard rubbed Fenna’s shoulders in gentle gratitude for her defense before he continued.

“I also like to be controlled by my lovers. Like to be dominated. And, while the Felix

are open to other cultures being different”—Lenard shrugged—“they are not as

understanding about their own.”

“And Fenna can’t—” Lenard cut himself off when he saw Fenna flinch, and Kansas

knew then that he’d been right. Gliders were no doubt known for their sense of direction.

If she didn’t have one…

“I can’t find my way through an open field. And I’m no good at gliding either. Once

my greatmother died, the rest of the family couldn’t disown me fast enough. Not that I

care.”

Kansas stepped closer, wrapping his arms around both of them for a quick embrace.

“Well, I’m not even from this world. You can’t get more different than that. And as far as

you two are concerned, it’s their loss. Personally, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have

this adventure with than you.”

He was strangling in feathers and fur before he knew it, Lenard and Fenna both

squeezing him tightly in thanks.

Trumpets blared, echoing off the gilded walls of the chamber, and the chattering

crowd grew silent. “What’s going on?”

Fenna released Kansas and attempted to climb up Lenard’s back, determined to get a

better view. “New business. The king blesses those newly born, those newly wed and

listens to any new issues his people may need him to preside over.”

Lenard glanced at Kansas from the corner of his eye. “You should get in line, my

friend. This is where you meet the king.”

Kansas tried to look over the crowd but he couldn’t see the wizard. Couldn’t even

see the throne at the back of the room. He swallowed nervously. “You aren’t coming?”

“We’ll step forward as witnesses to your arrival.” Fenna looked down from her new

spot on Lenard’s shoulders and ran a taloned hand through his hair. “But please think

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about what you’ll ask the king. You don’t have to go home, sea eyes. You can live with

us if you’d like.”

Kansas leaned into her touch with a kind smile. “Thank you, Fenna. I’ll keep that in

mind.”

He turned, pushing his way through the crowd and heading toward the back of the

small line forming in the middle of the room. He caught sight of Z, standing off to the left

on the dais, his amber gaze honing in on Kansas. There was an air of impatience about

the sorcerer that made him suspicious. What exactly was he expecting to happen here?

Two members of the Equus Clan and their new foal bowed and finished their royal

audience, leaving an opening for the next in line. In that moment, Kansas got his first

look at the king.

Holy Lord, the man was gorgeous. To Kansas it seemed that the floor dropped out

from beneath him, his heart pounding loud in his ears as he saw his every-fantasy-rolled-

into-one stand to greet the family of snooty Gliders.

He had the same golden skin as the others, but packaged so beautifully it was

impossible to look away. As tall as Lenard and just as broad and well muscled. Only he

wasn’t covered with fur, which to Kansas was a definite plus.

He wore a long crimson and silver skirt, a circlet of silver around his clean-shaven

head, and nothing else. Kansas had the sudden urge to run his fingers over that scalp, to

see if it was as smooth as it looked.

His bare chest was peppered with small scars and piercings. The sheer masculinity of

it took his breath away. Kansas leaned closer, determined to hear the king’s low murmur

over the drumbeat in his head.

And promptly stumbled into the Glider in front of him, toppling her over in a

squawking, ungainly heap at the feet of His Royal Hotness.

“This was the surprise I was telling you about, Your Majesty”

Kansas heard the wry tone in the wizard’s voice. Surprise.

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“Get it off of me! Get it off of me!” Kansas scrambled off the pile of feathers and

silk, more to escape the shrieking bird banshee than out of politeness. Honestly he was a

little insulted. He’d been called an “it” more times in the last twenty-four hours than he

cared to remember. It was starting to piss him off.

“It apologizes for falling on you, feathers. Please excuse it.” Kansas thought he was

speaking low enough not to be heard over her squawks, but the surprised shot of laughter

from the dais told him otherwise.

His eyes clashed with the dark whiskey of the king’s gaze, pleasantly surprised to see

the humor sparkling there. Kansas watched as he reached out to help the Glider back to

her feet, his expression morphing into one of compassionate understanding.

“Lady Livania, you are, as ever, everything that is gracious and lovely. Please accept

my congratulations on your daughter’s match, and allow me to offer the new bride a gift

of two of my finest gryfs and enough grain to feed her husband’s family for the season.”

“But—oh, well I mean—yes, thank you, Your Highness. How generous!” The Glider

was still flushed with embarrassment, but under the glowing approval of the king, she

could do no more than bow and follow her family away from the dais.

Kansas hesitated. He knew it was his turn to step forward, but suddenly he wasn’t

sure what to do. He swallowed past a throat gone suddenly dry, his heart racing at having

the king’s undivided attention.

If he followed his instincts, he’d be drawn and quartered. He didn’t imagine the

armed guards nearby would take too kindly with a stranger throwing their king over his

own throne and fucking him senseless. And yet, that was all Kansas could think of doing.

The wizard had turned him on. But the king threw his entire world out of kilter, and he

hadn’t even said hello.

Luckily the king seemed to be suffering the same malady, and didn’t notice Kansas’s

breach in court etiquette. One powerful step down and he was there, close enough to

touch. Kansas hardly dared to breathe as his intense, unblinking gaze covered every inch

of his body before returning to study his face.

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The king circled him like a jungle cat stalking its prey. Kansas glanced up helplessly

at the wizard. He was supposed to say no to this Adonis? Z’s nod was adamant. Kansas

sighed. And it was in that moment that the last minute possibility of this being only a

dream faded away. His subconscious wasn’t this cruel.

“I know every clan in my kingdom, and my realm is vast.”

The king leaned down to murmur in Kansas’s ear. He shuddered at the hot breath on

his neck.

“But I have never seen anything like you in all my life.”

The king stepped back and turned to Z with a nod. The wizard held up his hands and

the curious murmurs went silent in an instant. “The king will receive no more on this

day.”

There was no question of obedience. Within moments only two others remained—

Fenna and Lenard. The guards stepped toward them, their unusual staff-like weapons at

the ready.

“Wait! They’re with me.” Kansas rushed over, intent on protecting them. “Z, tell

them.”

“Z, huh? Just how well do you know my surprise, old friend?” Kansas glanced over

his shoulder in time to see the king wave his guards away.

The wizard smirked. “Not half as well as I’d like, Your Majesty. These two found

him in the forest at the edge of the city. They protected him and ensured his safe arrival

to the palace.”

“Found?” The king jumped on the word, his curiosity easy to see. His eyes narrowed

on Kansas. “Were you lost?”

His throat was closing again, but Fenna and Lenard’s hands resting supportively on

his shoulders helped. “Me? Um, okay. This is going to sound so strange…” He rolled his

eyes at his own rambling. His only excuse was that all his blood had left his brain for

southern exposure as soon as he had laid eyes on the masculine monarch. “My name is

Kansas. Kansas Frayne. I was brought by a storm. From Iowa? That’s in the United

States…on Earth… So, yeah, you could say I was lost.”

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The king’s brow furrowed. “Eye-Oh-Wa? Earth?” His nostrils flared, eyes widening

as he took a step back.

“He is a human left by the storm. Naked as a babe when we found him. And we are

witness to the fact that he is unique.”

Kansas glared at the winking Fenna. She wasn’t helping. And of course, once she’d

opened that door, Lenard could not be left out. His dark eyes took on a glazed sheen as

they focused on his crotch. “Pale as cream.”

Oh Lord.

A few moments of uncomfortable silence followed. Kansas wanted to melt into a

puddle of humiliation on the floor until the king cleared his throat. “You are both

welcomed in the palace for as long as you’d like. My guards will take you to your rooms.

Thank you for your care in delivering the human. It will not be forgotten.”

Varying levels of disappointment shone on each of their expressions, but neither

Fenna nor Lenard was about to question their ruler. Giving Kansas a parting embrace,

they left to find their new accommodations.

“I would believe that you were an illusion created by Z to amuse me, but even he is

not this good.”

“I’m better. But I’ll let the insult to my abilities go since you’re royalty and I am

ever your humble servant.”

“Nice of you.”

“I thought so.”

Kansas smiled slightly at their comfortable banter, sobering when he noticed how the

movement had drawn the king’s gaze to his lips. He suddenly had the wild desire to

return to the watering hole. At least there he’d find some satisfaction for the arousal

beating in his blood.

“I promise you, Your Majesty, I am no illusion. That’s the only thing I’ve been sure

of since I arrived.”

He waved his hand dismissively at Kansas. “I do not doubt you, Kansas, is it?”

Kansas nodded, bemused by the king’s charming smile. “I’m just surprised. Human

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storm riders are the stuff of children’s stories. I never once imagined those stories were

true. And yet, here you are. Why?”

Kansas shrugged, aware that the king and his wizard had moved closer. Having the

attention of both of the sexually dynamic men had put his senses in overdrive. “I have no

idea. One minute I was walking in an open field near my home, the next I was naked in

your forest, with Fenna and Lenard standing over me. I can’t explain it.”

“Then you don’t know how to get back?”

“That’s why I’m here. I was told you could help.”

The king’s bronze nipples were now level with his mouth. They tightened as Kansas

sighed. The temptation to lick them, to swirl his tongue around the silver piercings,

nearly overwhelmed him. One strong finger slid beneath his chin, lifting his head until he

was eye to eye with the king. The passionate light in his eyes made Kansas sure he was

thinking of kissing him. Yes.

“I’m sure Z can arrange something, but there’s no hurry, is there?” No of course not,

no hurry at all.

The king lowered his head slowly. “I wish to learn more about this Eye-Oh-Wa. And

you, Kansas. It is my duty as king to learn all there is to know about you. To study you as

you deserve to be studied.

“But I warn you, I’m known for being thorough. It may take days. Weeks to discover

everything. Until then you will be my honored guest.”

Oh God, yes. Kansas licked his lower lip, imagining how the king would taste. His

fingers itched to trace the muscles of his back, his abs. But a glimmer of movement out of

the corner of his eye held him back.

The wizard.

Shit. He’d forgotten his talk with the wizard. Okay, he hadn’t forgotten, but he’d

been giving it his best shot. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted someone

this badly. Not even Danny.

Shit.

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The thought of his ex broke Kansas out of his lust-induced haze. A reminder of his

tendency to want the wrong men. A spoiled king from another world suddenly sounded

like the same old same old.

Say no.

That was what Z had told him. If he wanted to get home, he had to deny the king.

And himself.

“No.”

The shock emanating from the king’s powerful body was tangible. Kansas watched

in fascination as the strong jaw dropped in stunned disbelief. “What did you say?”

Uh oh. Kansas took a step back, away from the king’s touch. Away from temptation.

“No? I mean, I appreciate your offer, but I really should be getting back to where I

belong.”

The wizard came forward, gaze riveted on the king. “Your Majesty, I believe there is

a spell to send him back. I’ll take him to my—”

“Silence!”

Kansas jumped. He couldn’t help it. The man had changed from playful charmer to

intimidating ruler in the blink of an eye. Shoulders back, nostrils flaring, he addressed the

wizard, but his attention never left Kansas. “I’m glad you know how to send him back.

I’m sure Kansas is relieved. But we won’t need your services just yet. As I said before,

I’m determined that this man will be my guest. A guest of your king.”

The emphasis wasn’t lost on the wizard. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“No.” Kansas couldn’t believe he’d said it again. Neither, apparently, could the king.

The jaw that had been lax tensed and began to tick. Whiskey eyes narrowed, not in

passion, but in anger.

“As a stranger, you may not know how dangerous it is to reject the kindness of the

king. It will insult me, do you deny my hospitality again.” His gaze dropped beneath

Kansas’s waist meaningfully. “Especially when we both know you want to obey.”

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Chapter Three

If he ever saw Z again, the wizard was in for a world of hurt. That is, once he found a

way out of these chains.

He must have known what the king would do when Kansas had said no for a third

time. Must have known that his ruler would have him dragged away by the guards. He’d

expected to be thrown into a dark, drippy dungeon. Instead he was led into the most

opulent bedroom he’d ever seen, and chained to the wall. Back in a loincloth, of course.

What would it hurt to have spent a night or two in the royal hunk’s company? To

have given in to the instant chemistry between them? God knows he wanted to. The

questions kept rattling around in his mind, but he kept coming back to one answer.

Jealousy.

The wizard must have the hots for the king and he didn’t want Kansas to get in the

way. That had to be it. And as far as he was concerned they could have each other. No

matter how seductive the package, it was obvious the king was a tantrum-throwing child

on the inside. Chaining an innocent man for declining a social invitation? It was

domineering at best.

He stomped over to the food-laden table a few feet away. The chain was barely long

enough to reach it. Thank heaven for small favors. He hadn’t eaten anything since he’d

arrived. He popped what looked like a grape into his mouth. His eyes closed on a moan.

Delicious.

“Is the food to your liking?”

Frozen in the act of shoveling more of the tangy fruit into his mouth, Kansas studied

the woman suspiciously. She wasn’t like the others. Instead of the pure golden hue of the

other men and women wandering the palace, she appeared to be made of silver—from the

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top of her flowing hair to her toe nails. The silver jumpsuit that clung to her curvy figure

looked painted on. What was she?

“Pleasure droid. My identification number is rather long and difficult to remember.

Most people just call me Pan,” she answered the unasked question with a smile. “The

wizard sent me to pleasure you. He told me I should introduce myself first, since humans

weren’t blessed by the GW the way we have been.”

“There are so many things wrong with that sentence I don’t know where to start.”

Kansas dropped the fruit to rub his temples. “The wizard sent you? A droid? To pleasure

me? And what, exactly, is the GW?”

She frowned, walking closer to reach for him. “Do you need a massage? You look

like you need a massage. I’m programmed to give a full body rub that, I’m told, is almost

orgasmic.”

She touched his shoulders and he flinched, closing his eyes when she instantly found

the knot in his neck. “Oh that feels amazing. Thank you, Pan, isn’t it?”

“Yes. And it’s my job. The wizard said I was to pleasure you in every way I could,

and to inform you that all is going according to plan.”

A mocking snort escaped. “I’m sure he thinks so. What’s next on the agenda? A

massage to let down my guard followed quickly by a thousand lashes with a spiked

flogger?”

The magical hands stilled. “I’m not exactly programmed for that, but if that’s what

will bring you pleasure…”

Kansas laughed. “No, Pan. Ignore me. The massage is pleasure enough.”

“Really?” There was skepticism in her tone. “Just a massage? Nothing more?”

“A little information would be nice.”

“Agreed.” She began to massage his shoulders once more. “You asked about the

GW. Have you never heard of her?”

Kansas shook his head, moaning as he lowered his elbows to the table while she dug

into a particularly stubborn knot.

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“She and a few others like her helped to create this world. She was a friend to all

creatures great and small. She even fought her own kind when they tried to enslave the

population.”

“She fought slavery, then created pleasure droids? She sounds…complex.”

Pan laughed. “Oh no, she didn’t create us. She aided the king’s great grandfather, the

wisest of the wise, in defeating a great enemy. In return for his aid, the GW gifted him

with new life. She spun his flesh and those of his people into gold. Gave them strength,

longevity and mastery over the world.

“One day she disappeared, to this day no one’s quite sure why, and that was when

they realized she’d given them one last gift—her book of knowledge, along with a crude

template that they eventually used to make us.”

Kansas spun around, his chains clanking around him, reminding him of his current

situation. “She spun them into gold? But why? What were they before?”

When Pan pointed to an oil painting near the fireplace, Kansas blanched. No way.

“What kind of twisted fairytale have I fallen into?”

Z stepped out from the shadows. “You recognize him?” Kansas instinctively dove

for him. Unfortunately the chains he was yanking against didn’t reach that far. But he

gave it his best shot.

“You bastard. ‘Say no’, you said. ‘The only way to get home’?” He sneered at them

both, chains rattling when he crossed his arms defiantly.

“I’ve been slipped some kind of drug, haven’t I? You’re playing with my mind. How

can he be real?” Kansas pointed to the painting. “He’s a character from a story for crying

out loud. The next thing you’ll tell me is the lion and the tin ma—” He looked at Pan, and

swallowed hard. “How can any of this be real?”

Z waved his hand and a cloth cover appeared to drape over the painting. “Calm

down, Kansas, please.” He came closer, his expression thoughtful. “Humans from Earth

have been in stories our parents told us as children, as you heard the king mention. I

suppose it makes sense that you would have stories of us as well.”

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Kansas crossed his arms, shaking his head wryly. “Our stories don’t mention

anything about horny cats or sex robots.”

“Our stories didn’t mention anything about sexy, blue-eyed men from Iowa.”

Kansas scoffed. “Don’t try to get on my good side, Z. I’m on to your game. There’s

no need to worry. I have no plans to get between you and the king.”

Z’s smile was dark and sinful. “But that’s exactly what I want. You. Between us.”

He glanced over Kansas’s shoulder. “Pan. Have you been in long enough contact to show

him your special talent?”

“Yes. And you were correct about his preferences.” Pan walked around Kansas until

he could see her clearly. She smiled. And then her body began to morph.

“Holy shi— What is she doing?”

“Pan was made to give you whatever you want. To be whomever you want.”

Kansas didn’t like the sound of that. And as Pan’s silver hair disappeared from her

head, her breasts turning into a broad, muscular chest, he realized where this was going.

Within moments Pan had, apart from “her” distinctive color, taken on all the physical

attributes of the king.

And the king was naked.

“Did you tell her to do this?”

Pan met Z’s eyes and chuckled in the king’s deep voice. “He doesn’t understand.”

Pan turned back to Kansas. “The wizard added a few special additions to our template.

One of them is the ability to sense your inner desires, who and what you most want, and

then become it.”

“Neat trick.” He was having a hard time concentrating. Seeing that body so close

was affecting him. He knew it wasn’t really the king. But his body didn’t seem to care.

And there was no hiding his reaction from the others. Not in the pitiful excuse for

clothing they’d left him in. “Now change back.”

Z stripped off his shirt, tossing it in a heap behind him. “Not quite yet, Kansas

Frayne. Not until Pan gives you the release you’ll need to resist the real king.”

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He saw red. “Is that what this is all about, Z? I told you. I don’t step on other men’s

toes. I won’t take what’s yours. Just send me home and you’ll never have to see me

again.”

Z walked up behind Pan and rubbed her…his…back. “You’ve gotten the wrong

impression. I’m sorry you’re chained, and yes, I knew he would react exactly as he did. I

also knew that he wouldn’t hurt you, and that you’d end up here, in his bedroom, fed and

readied for him.”

Kansas raised his arms, banging his chained wrists together to make a loud clanking

sound. “And what are these? Love tokens?”

Pan stepped forward, silently gripping his wrists with the king’s hands. Z was close

behind. “More than you know. He’s intrigued by you. Since you’ve denied him it’s only

gotten worse. Every minute he stays away from you is a torture spent imagining you here,

just like this.”

As he spoke Pan lowered Kansas’s arms, pressing the king’s warm, silver body

against him. Pan’s newly grown cock was thick and hard against him. Kansas shivered in

arousal. “If this is his room, won’t he be upset to find us here like this?”

“He’s in a meeting with his council. He can’t escape for at least another hour.” What

was Z saying?

“Why are you doing this?” Kansas arched his neck when he felt Pan’s lips press

against the pulse at his throat. He moaned. “Why am I supposed to resist him?”

“What you truly desire and what the king desires is the same.” Pan’s deep voice

vibrated against his nipples, his ribs. “Only he would never allow us to give him what he

needs. He is our king. Our leader.” Pan knelt in front of Kansas, easily untying the fragile

cloth that covered his erection.

Z growled at the sight. “You are different. Not under his rule. Not his responsibility.

Just a man he desires. A man who could give him what he so desperately craves.”

Kansas looked down at the image of the king eyeing his hard shaft with obvious

intent. He slipped his finger beneath Pan’s chin. “You don’t have to do this, Pan. Not if

you don’t want to.”

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Pan’s eyes widened. Lips so like the ones he’d been dying to kiss curled up in a

breathtaking smile. “No one has ever said that to me before. Given me a choice. Let me

give this to you. I…want to.”

Kansas wanted it too. So much that he didn’t resist as his cock disappeared between

those lush lips. Pan’s mouth was hot and wet around him. The tongue pressing against the

underside of his shaft weakened his knees, causing him to stumble backwards, and his

hands grappled for the wall behind him. Pan followed greedily. “Oh God.”

“This is what you want, isn’t it? Our king on his knees for your pleasure. His body

yours to command.” Z’s harsh rasp had Kansas opening his eyes. The wizard was

mesmerizing. His pupils large and dark, cheekbones slashed with a dark gold rush of

heat, lower lip snagged between his teeth. Z’s attention was fixed on Pan’s mouth

swallowing Kansas down his throat, his hand gripping the impressive erection he’d

released from his own confining pants.

“Mmm. And what do you…ahhh, that feels so good…what do you want, Z?”

Z lifted his gaze. “You. Both of you. I want to watch you fuck him, watch him cry

out with the strength of his climax. And someday…someday I want to bend you over and

take you as you’re taking him.”

Pan stilled at his words, head turning until Kansas’s dick nearly slid out of “her”

mouth. “But that would—”

A sharp look from Z cut Pan off, but Kansas was too aroused to care. The sexual

challenge in the wizard’s words thrilled him. “In your dreams.”

Z just smiled, recognizing the bluster for what it was. “And yours. Are you really

going to waste this? Or will you take what’s offered, knowing when you look into the

frustrated face of the king that you’ve already had what he is so desperate for.”

Kansas lowered his gaze. Pan was still kneeling, watching…waiting. “I don’t even

know his name.”

Pan slid a hand up Kansas’s thigh. “No one does. Only the parents that named him,

and his future consort, can know it. It’s tradition.”

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He cupped the now smooth silver head and studied Pan’s face. The king’s face. What

would it hurt to give in? Just this once. To take what he wanted. “No names then, Your

Majesty.” He guided his painfully erect cock back to Pan’s lips. “Suck me.”

Pan frowned severely and stood, but there was a betraying sparkle in those silver

eyes. Chin tilted and hands firmly placed on the king’s hips, Kansas felt the distinct urge

to bow to the pleasure droid. “How dare you order your king? You should kneel before

me.”

Adrenaline surged through Kansas. Yes. This was what he wanted. He had enough

give on the chains to reach for Pan, pulling that big, beautiful body flush against his own.

He inhaled sharply as his arousal slid against the unbelievably thick length of Pan’s.

“Fuck that feels…is this really the size of his…?”

Pan just smiled, drawing a growl from Kansas, who tightened his arms around the

larger man. Sliding one hand up to wrap around his neck, the other gripping one perfect

ass cheek, Kansas pulled Pan’s head closer to his own. “You’re not my king. So there

won’t be any kneeling. Unless it’s behind you on the ground while I fill you full of my

cock.”

Z’s groan barely registered. Kansas only had eyes for the trembling Pan. He arched

his hips, forcing closer contact with his grip on Pan’s ass. “You like that idea. You want

me to fuck you so bad you’re ready to beg, aren’t you?”

“Yes…”

“Then get back on your knees and suck my cock. If you’re really good, I’ll give you

exactly what you need.”

Pan dropped to the floor without another word. In a distant part of his mind, Kansas

was amazed at his behavior. He’d always been a sensitive lover. Dominant but loving.

This was something else entirely. Pan and Z had offered him a fantasy where he could

say anything, do anything, without repercussions. His subconscious was one kinky

bastard.

“That’s right…fuck, yes…deeper. More. Take it all. Every. Last… Yes!” His hips

pumped against Pan’s mouth, still careful, barely, but without hesitation. He needed

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release. Needed to look down into that strong, sensual face. Into eyes that, while they

weren’t the color of rich whiskey, were still looking up at him with honest desire.

Z knelt down behind Pan, pressing against her back as she worked her mouth up and

down Kansas’s erection, his excitement palpable as he watched. Kansas leaned forward,

gripping Z’s braid to jerk his head back roughly. “Enjoying the show?”

There was no shame in the wizard’s eyes. “I’m enjoying your pleasure, yes. More

than I’d imagined. So much more that I have to—” He broke off at Pan’s loud groan, and

Kansas trembled at the vibration against his cock.

Pan’s rhythm changed unmistakably. Kansas loosened his grip on the wizard’s braid

in surprise. Was he? Oh God, he was. Z was fucking Pan. The knowledge, as well as the

guttural sounds Pan was making as she swallowed him down, was more than he could

take.

Kansas tried to pull away before he came, but Pan gripped his hips and pulled him

closer, refusing to release him. His back arched with the power of his climax, hands

gripping Pan’s head as his hips jerked against that magical mouth. “God.”

Z’s hoarse shout and Pan’s full-mouthed moan of release quickly mingled with his

own groans of release. It was a decadent experience.

Kansas slid down against the wall, his legs bent on either side of the kneeling Pan.

She was already changing back to her original form, long flowing hair, voluptuous body.

He stared, bemused as the spent cock shrunk back into her body, until she was once again

exactly as she had been. Right down to the painted-on jumpsuit.

He pulled her close in an affectionate embrace. “Thank you, Pan. I hope I wasn’t too

rough. I got a little carried away.”

She pulled back and tilted her head. “You—you’re thanking me? For giving you

pleasure?”

Kansas pulled her close again, glaring in Z’s direction at the sound of her surprise.

The wizard ignored the look and, collapsed onto his back on the floor beside them. What

was wrong with these people? “Of course I’m thanking you. You didn’t have to do what

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you did, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.” He chuckled. “You do a pretty good impression of

the king, Pan. You could be an actress.”

He felt a distinct wetness on his shoulder. Was she crying? He stroked her hair,

leaning closer to hear her muffled words. “Like the Royal Storyteller?”

Z rose on his elbows and nodded at Kansas’s confused expression

so he responded

softly. “Sure. I bet you’d be great at it.” Pan peered up at him through her silvery lashes

and smiled.

“You’re much nicer than the humans in our stories, Master Frayne.”

“And you’re a lot more…interesting than any of ours. And please, call me Kansas. I

think you know me a little too well to call me Master.”

“Maybe she knows you better than you know yourself.”

Kansas rolled his eyes. “Don’t start, Z. Innuendo isn’t going to cut it anymore. Now

if someone would get the prisoner something to clean up with, we can get on with it.”

“Get on with what?” Pan hopped up with a speed Kansas couldn’t possibly have

matched in his current boneless state and ran to the washroom. She came back with two

small, damp cloths that she handed discreetly to both men.

“The wizard’s master plan. He wants the king to lose control. For some reason he

thinks I’m the man to do it. And I find myself more and more willing to make the

attempt.” His tone was rueful. “I have a feeling there’ll be no going back to my life, hell,

to sanity until I’ve had him. So tell me what I need to do.”

Z’s triumphant smile was blinding. The man was magnetic, he’d give him that.

Hadn’t seen any powers to speak of but if excessive sexual charisma made you a wizard

in this world, who was he to knock it?

He just hoped part of this plan didn’t include him and the words “dungeon” or

“torture”. And that the king would give in before he did.

“That is my favorite watering hole as well. I’m so glad our guest enjoyed it.”

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Kansas knew they could all see the heat fill his cheeks as they chuckled at his

expense. He glared at Fenna and Lenard. Weren’t they supposed to be his friends?

Instead they were telling the king every detail of their adventure since Kansas arrived.

The small group sat on large, strewn pillows and a plush love seat beside the fire.

The king had invited his previous friends to his rooms for dinner. Thankfully he’d sent

his servants to unchain Kansas and allow him to bathe and dress before they arrived.

Z sat beside Kansas on the sofa, Pan at his feet, watching the scene in silent serenity.

It was irritating. He stabbed a purple peapod with the wooden stick they’d given him to

eat with, shuddering as he swallowed the bitter tasting vegetable. “What I wouldn’t give

for some French fries. Maybe a chocolate shake.”

Several curious gazes turned his way. He shrugged. “Our food is a little different

than yours.”

“Our?” The king’s gaze was piercing. He’d been pretending indifference to Kansas

all evening, just as Z had promised he would. Lounging on the pillows, offering sensual

smiles to the besotted Lenard, caressing Fenna’s thigh.

But he couldn’t hide the impatience boiling beneath the surface. Couldn’t stop his

gaze from following every move Kansas made. It was a hopeful sign. “Tell us, human,

what your clan is like. What you eat. What you do for pleasure.”

Kansas leaned forward, elbows on his knees, determined to stare the smug blueblood

down. “Well there are a lot of us, and we’re all a little different, like you. Instead of

Gliders and Equus and Felix, we are just different shades of human. Black, brown,

olive—”

“Cream?”

Kansas hid his smile as he nodded toward his friend. “Yes, Lenard, some of us are

pale as cream when we don’t go out in the sun. We have more kinds of food than I could

eat in one lifetime, though I have a preference for all things spicy and sweet.” The king

focused on his lips as he slowly formed those words. Kansas licked his lips.

“As for what we do for pleasure? We eat a lot. We laugh a lot. And we fuck a lot.”

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From the corner of his eye he could see Pan jumping up to pat Z’s back as he choked

on his drink. Fenna smiled admiringly at Kansas, but he only had eyes for the king. And

the king did not seem amused.

“And these people you fuck, will they come looking for you? Will they worry when

you don’t return?”

Kansas shrugged nonchalantly, hoping no one noticed the tension humming through

him. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll be home before anyone notices I’m gone.”

He knew it was killing the king that his question had gone unanswered. He could

almost hear his thoughts. Did Kansas have a lover back home? Was that why he’d denied

him? Why he was still so determined to leave?

The king stood abruptly, looking defiantly at Kansas. Without blinking he opened

the fastenings of that mouthwatering outfit he was wearing, and it pooled to the floor. It

took all his willpower not to look away from the challenge in the king’s eyes. Not to let

his eyes drop for more than a heartbeat to the impressive erection he knew would be

there.

He tried to tell himself he knew exactly what it looked like, thanks to Pan, but as

with everything else, the imitation could not compare to the real thing. The true king in

the flesh was awe-inspiring. And he knew it, the arrogant bastard.

What was he up to? Would he actually attempt to seduce him with all these

witnesses? Kansas didn’t want to think about why that idea aroused him. He was not an

exhibitionist. At least, he was pretty sure he wasn’t. His actions since he’d arrived

seemed to belie that claim. Who was he trying to kid? He loved the idea.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the challenge to come. He had to resist

the king. Z had told him that—

“Lenard. Fenna.” The king glanced down at his subjects with a sensual smile.

“Please me.”

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Chapter Four

He’d pick his jaw up off the floor in a minute, Kansas told himself. As soon as he got

over the shock. That royal sonofa…of all the scenarios he’d imagined, watching his two

friends kneel eagerly at the feet of their king, lapping at his thick cock like it was a

lollipop, was not one of them.

Especially when he hadn’t been invited to join in.

He registered Z scooting closer to him on the sofa, his arm sliding over his shoulders,

but he couldn’t turn away from the unbelievable scene before his eyes. “Be at ease,

Kansas. Don’t let him see you’re troubled. Smile, human. Enjoy the show.”

He listened to the hushed voice with incredulity. Smile? Enjoy the show? He didn’t

enjoy having his words thrown back at him. Not now. Something dark was raging

through him. An emotion that, if he was honest, he knew he’d never felt before, not even

with his promiscuous young ex. Jealousy.

He watched Lenard ecstatically swallowing the king’s erection down his throat,

watched Fenna gently licking his tight balls, and tried to keep a blank expression on his

face. What he wanted was to leap over to them and rip them away from what was his.

His? What the hell was wrong with him? He was talking about a man he barely

knew, a man who had chained him to his wall in a spoiled fit of anger. Z was sure the

king wanted him, but if he did, why would he allow another to touch him?

Why would you? His inner voice was mocking. He was a hypocrite and he knew it.

His experience only hours ago with Pan and Z defused his righteous anger as nothing else

could. He, who’d always believed there was only room for two in a true relationship. The

paragon of fidelity, controlled emotions and vanilla sex. Oh how the mighty had fallen.

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A low chuckle drew his attention back to the king’s face. The object of his desire

was watching Fenna and Lenard as they sought to pleasure him, biting his lower lip as the

Felix became even more vigorous.

The king must have sensed that he was being watched, because he looked up. When

their gazes clashed, the air was knocked out of Kansas’s lungs. Nothing could have

surprised him more than what he saw in those dark gold eyes.

The king was bored.

Oh he was aroused. How could he not be with those two sensual, talented creatures

doing their best to suck him dry? But the yearning in his eyes wasn’t for another

emotionless orgasm given by a fawning supplicant. What he needed, neither Lenard nor

Fenna could truly give him. They were too in awe of him to take him as he needed to be

taken.

All of Z’s comments suddenly made sense to Kansas. The king needed someone who

wasn’t enthralled by his status, someone who saw him the way he wanted to be seen. As

a man. As simple and as complicated as that. Because the king ruled over everyone,

you’d have to live on another planet, or a storm ride and one dimension away, not to see

him as your king. Not to fear him and wish to obey him.

The smile snuck up on Kansas as everything fell into place. And he knew what he

had to do. He pulled his shirt off, leaned back against the wizard…and began to “enjoy

the show”.

“That’s right. Make him sweat.” Z brushed his lips against his ear and Kansas

shivered.

The king frowned.

Kansas placed his hand on Z’s thigh, caressing him through his pants. He heard him

gasp, felt his muscles tighten. The wizard’s mouth was pressed against his temple, his

hips lifting in a subtle request for more. The king growled, “Z, enough.”

And Kansas knew it was time, answering before the wizard could react. “No.”

“You enjoy defying me, don’t you?”

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He laughed. “More than you know.” His hand slid higher up Z’s thigh, never taking

his eyes from the king. “Send them away.”

Fenna and Lenard had stopped what they were doing, looking between Kansas and

their ruler with wide, curious eyes. Even Z had pulled back, sitting so still Kansas

wondered if he was breathing.

The crackling of the fire was the only sound as the two stared each other down for

long, tension-filled moments. Finally, the king said, “Leave us.”

Kansas swallowed his chuckle as he watched them scramble to obey. Every one of

them was smiling. Good. Despite his actions he liked them all, and didn’t want to hurt

anyone’s feelings. He just needed to be alone with the king.

When they were gone, Kansas stood and stretched. Through his lashes he could see

the king watching his bare torso with greedy eyes. “Like what you see, Your Majesty?”

The king made a noise of frustration at the title and his jaw tightened. “I’ve done

what you asked. For that boon I’ll have one of my own. Finish what they started. Get on

your knees.”

“Oh, was that the deal?” Kansas tsked, trying to untie the lacing on his pants in what

he hoped was a seductive manner. “I was thinking that you’d lie on your big, comfortable

bed over there and wait for me to come to you.”

The instinctive shudder that ran through the king’s large frame heated Kansas’s

blood. He hesitated, pride and need warring on his noble face, before turning with that

powerful stride toward the bed.

Yes.

Kansas took his time, partly to tantalize, partly because his hands were shaking,

fumbling as he sought to loosen his damn pants. If he was going to stay here longer, he

would definitely need to reinvent the button fly jean.

His fingers stilled. Since when had staying become an option? Since you realized

that you’ve felt more alive in the past two days than you have in your entire life. He

snorted softly under his breath. Truer words…

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He looked up to where the king had lain back on the bed, his pose awkward and

tense. His legs were still planted firmly on the ground, ready to bolt, but his erection was

pulsing with the strength of his desire, showing Kansas more than anything else could

that he was on the right track.

He stepped out of his pants and walked over to the bed, the blood rushing to his cock

as he studied the feast spread out before him. God, the man was gorgeous. Kansas had

been alone with his own thoughts for too long to deny them now. He’d wanted to stay

from the moment he set eyes on the king.

“You’re going to pay for making me wait, Kansas.” The rough timbre of his voice

revealed his excitement.

“I don’t think so, Your Majesty. I think you know that the waiting will be worth it.

That you’re going to love what I do to you. And I think you’re going to put your hands

behind your head and leave them there until I tell you to move them.”

The king started to sit up in outrage. “How dare you spea—”

Kansas took a step back, hands spread out beside him. “Or I can leave, and you can

call one of your pleasure droids in to finish you off.”

The king froze, anger forgotten. His attention was riveted by the nude body before

him. “The Felix was right. Hips as pale as cream. But your cock is…” He licked his lips

and Kansas groaned in reaction.

“Lie down and put your hands behind your head.” Please, before I beg you to touch

me, anywhere, however you want, and ruin everything.

The king obeyed.

Kansas swallowed. He felt like a kid who’d just gotten everything he ever wanted for

Christmas and didn’t know where to start. He stepped closer, until he was standing

between those tree trunk thighs, knees brushing the soft comforter.

He slid his hands up the golden legs, leaning forward to trace the muscled ridges of

the king’s abdomen, the line of his ribs. Both men moaned low when their cocks slid

against each other’s, the sensation beyond description.

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“You’re so fucking beautiful. So sexy. I can’t believe how much I want you, and I

haven’t even kissed you yet.” Kansas couldn’t resist the wonder in the king’s eyes at his

words. Had no one ever told him? He placed his hands on either side of his bent arms and

leaned closer. “We’ll have to fix that.”

The first touch of his lips had Kansas growling, sinking against the king’s hot body

as he deepened the kiss. More. He had to have more. He’d never tasted anything so

delicious. Spicy and sweet. His favorite combination.

The king strained his neck, his arms twitching as though he wanted to pull Kansas

closer. Kansas wrapped his hands around the thick forearms and squeezed. “Not until I

say.” The king’s cock throbbed in answer. But he stilled his arms, pressing his mouth

against Kansas’s lips passionately.

He was lost. Soon they were rocking together, skin slick with desire as the kiss went

on and on. Neither wanted to come up for air. Kansas could feel his arousal rising to a

fever pitch. Too much, too fast. He had to slow down.

Pulling back reluctantly, he retreated to stand between the king’s thighs once more.

“Don’t give me that haughty glare, Your Majesty. You’ll like this. I promise.” He saw the

king grit his teeth at the continual emphasis on his title and, as turned on as he was,

Kansas still had to grin.

He placed his hands under his lover’s thighs and pushed them up toward his chest.

“You can move your hands now, but only to hold your thighs back like this, nice and

wide.”

The king turned a pale gold and Kansas stroked his flesh with his thumb. “You taste

so good. I want to kiss you everywhere. Trust me.” The king shuddered and slid his

hands beneath his thighs. “That’s right. God, yes, just like that.”

Kansas bent his knees and nuzzled the king’s inner thigh, hands sliding soothingly

over his ass. “I didn’t like seeing Lenard with his mouth around your cock.” He lifted his

chin, licking the king’s shaft with one broad stroke of his tongue. “I wanted it, wanted

you, all to myself.”

“Then why…ahhh…why did you say no to me?”

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Kansas smiled before slipping the head of the king’s shaft out of his mouth to

answer. “I don’t like being told what to do.”

“And you think I do?” His voice was shaky, but still defiant.

Kansas pulled his hips closer to the edge of the bed. “Yes, Your Majesty. I do.” And

without another word he spread the king’s cheeks apart and licked a trail of fire to the

tight ring of muscles that clenched at the feel of his tongue.

“Holy— Kansas, what are you doing?”

He lifted his head. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes. Makers help me, it feels amazing.”

“Then just enjoy it.”

He loved this. Loved the king arching against his mouth, the feel of those muscles

tight around his tongue as he pushed inside. He pressed his painfully hard erection

against the mattress, determined to make the king climax before he saw to his own

pleasure.

He slid his index finger up to the soaked hole, pressing in, stretching the tight ass

that he’d be willing to bet had never been touched this way.

“Ahh. Oh Makers. I want to touch you too, Kansas. I need to touch you. Please.”

He wanted that too. “If you touch me now I’ll lose control.” He slid a second finger

inside, lifting his head to study the king’s tight expression. “I want this to be good for

you.”

The king jumped when Kansas found that special spot. He heaved an inner sigh of

relief. He’d wondered if they’d be made the same here as well. He rubbed the prostate

with his fingers until the king was moaning unintelligibly, his head tossing back and forth

on the bed. Kansas bent his head to lap up the pearly liquid dripping from the head of his

cock.

“Kansas…Kansas… Fuck me.” His hips thrust against the bed when he heard the

king’s rough plea.

“You want my cock inside you, Your Majesty? Want me to fuck you until you come,

screaming my name?”

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“Stop calling me that. I am Tavyn Emeryle. General of the Crow Warriors, ruler of

the land of—”

The king moaned when Kansas raised his head in surprise. Tavyn. “You’re giving me

your name? Why?”

Tavyn smiled, his stunning golden face almost blinding Kansas with its beauty. He

lifted his hand up from his leg to touch Kansas, brushing his shaggy blond hair behind his

ear. “You know why.” He wiggled his hips, his expression turning playful. “Don’t make

me beg, Kansas. A king should never beg.”

Kansas was overcome. Hadn’t Pan told him that the king only told his name to his

consort? His life partner? Had she been wrong? He wanted to take a step back, consider

what his words meant but he couldn’t. His body was demanding he make the

king…Tavyn…his in every way possible. And his heart was in total agreement.

Kansas gripped his cock, then hesitated. “Do you have any…?”

Tavyn understood. “Bedside table. The emerald bowl.” Kansas walked over to find

the bowl filled with shimmering gold liquid. He dipped his fingers inside, coating his

cock with the tingling lubricant. It heated on his skin and his eyes nearly crossed.

Gathering more on his hand, he returned to the bed. He pressed two saturated fingers

inside Tavyn’s ass, stretching him, readying him for what was to come.

“Please. Oh please.” Tavyn’s low groans threw Kansas over the edge. He had to have

him. Now. He pushed slowly inside, their shouts of pleasure mingling in the large room,

echoing off the walls.

“Damn, Tavyn, you’re so tight. You feel… So. Fucking. Amazing.” He punctuated

his words with thrusts, working himself in deeper, slow and careful, until his hips were

flush against the king’s ass. “Are you okay? Is this okay?”

Tavyn lifted his hips, grinding against Kansas, his breath coming in panting groans.

“Yes. So good. So good. Fuck me, Kansas.”

Kansas pressed Tavyn’s legs up against his chest, leaning over him until they were

face to face, looking into each other’s eyes. Something in the way Tavyn was looking at

him made the dams burst. He couldn’t go slow, couldn’t rein in the power of his thrusts.

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The king didn’t seem to mind. “Harder. Fuck me harder.”

Kansas huffed out a laugh. “You just can’t stop bossing me around, can you?” He

wrapped his hand around Tavyn’s cock, matching the swift rhythm of his pumping hips.

“I guess I’ll just have to distract you.”

“Kansas!”

“Yes. Scream my name. Come for me, Tavyn.” Waves of heat and fire licked at his

flesh. He was so close. So close to the strongest orgasm of his life. He could feel the

power building at the base of his spine. “Come for me. Now. I can’t wait much longer.”

“Yes. Kansas…I… Ahh!” Tavyn’s shout as he climaxed in his hand was all the

permission Kansas needed. He came hard inside Tavyn, powering against him until every

last shivering spasm faded.

He pressed his forehead against the king’s pounding heart. Tavyn. His lover. His

love. He laughed at himself. Five years of determined isolation vanquished in an instant

by a strange group of new friends and one amazing man. And he couldn’t be happier.

“Can I touch you now?” Tavyn’s sated voice broke through his happy fog and

Kansas tried to lift himself up.

“Yes, of course. Am I crushing you?”

The king’s arms and legs came around Kansas, cradling him in a tight embrace.

“Don’t you dare move. I’ve never… That felt…”

Kansas kissed his chin. “I know. Me too.”

“If I ordered you, as the king, to do it again…would you?”

Kansas laughed. “No. But if Tavyn asked his lover, I’d tell him to just give me a few

minutes to recover, and he’s on.”

Tavyn rolled, taking Kansas with him on the bed. “You need time to recover? Is that

a human thing?”

The large cock pressed against his belly stirred and Kansas groaned. “Apparently.”

The king’s smile was wicked as he slid down his body, licking his lips, his intention

clear. “We’ll just have to fix that.”

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Chapter Five

“I was sure everything would work out. That’s why I brought you here.”

“I knew it! I knew you had a hand in this.” Kansas attempted to glare at the wizard,

but he’d been unable to pull off anything but a beaming smile for the last few weeks. He

was just too damn happy. “Thank you.”

Z nodded, his grin lecherous. “Thank you. I’d been longing for the consort ritual

from the moment I met you. It was definitely worth the wait.”

Kansas blushed. When Tavyn had officially asked him to stay, to be his lifetime

consort and lover, he’d neglected to mention that Z would be presiding over the

consummation. Presiding…and participating. He shivered in remembered pleasure,

images of the three of them together burned in his brain.

Z winked. “I told you I wanted you between us. Though I doubt he’d share you with

me again. And that’s as it should be.”

“How did you know? That I would be right for him?” The question had been

plaguing him. Would any human have done? Had he been a random choice? He hated to

believe that Tavyn could have been with someone else, loved someone else.

A hot, hard body pressed against his back, wrapping his thick arms around his waist

to pull him close. “Tell him about the rubies, Z.”

The wizard pulled a necklace out from under his shirt. A small ruby surrounded by a

silver sun glinted in the soft light of the royal gardens. “This ruby is one of the few pieces

left from the Maker’s most magical of artifacts. There are only two like it in our world. I

have one,” He lifted the king’s wrist to show Kansas the ring on Tavyn’s middle finger.

“The king has the other.”

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Z shrugged. “In this way we are always connected should he need me. And in this

way I was able to find his perfect mate, you, long before the storm was created to bring

you here.”

“You saw me before? How?”

“The stone brought me to you several years ago. I knew it wasn’t time for you to

come to us yet, so I made sure you forgot the encounter. The storm was designed to bring

you here you when you were finally ready. When you wanted to live again.”

So it had been him all along. He was the perfect match for Tavyn. He smiled. “Pan

and the others are going to be upset that you didn’t let them see you off.”

Z shook his head ruefully. “I know. Fenna has been particularly vocal as to her

feelings about my little holiday.”

Kansas knew it. The Glider had been hounding him about Z, as if he had any power

over the mage. She’d gotten even bossier since she’d been put in charge of the mapping

scrolls. Now everyone had to come to her for directions. That had been Lenard’s idea.

And it was brilliant.

Lenard, too, was as happy as a submissive Felix could be, creating the most sought

after bonding knots in the kingdom—all personally tested and guaranteed by the creator

himself. He and Tavyn had become his best customers. Kansas had never realized all the

fun to be had with restraints. Luckily he was a quick study.

Both they and Pan, who’d been relieved of her pleasure droid duties to assume an

apprentice position with the Royal Storyteller, had been cornering Kansas at every

opportunity about the wizard’s decision to leave.

What if he couldn’t get back? What if he loved French fries and chocolate shakes so

much that he didn’t want to return? What would they do without him?

Kansas was worried too, but Z was determined. Not even the king could change his

mind. “I’ll return the moment I’m needed. The ruby will let me know. But I’ve wanted to

explore your world since I found you. And I know I’m leaving my king in the best of

hands.”

Not in Kansas

www.samhainpublishing.com

Kansas bit his lip, leaning back against Tavyn with a sigh. “Okay. Well, my house is

yours for as long as you need it. Although you may fit in better someplace a bit more

modern. My uncle kept one of my condos open. It’s on Venice Beach in California. I bet

you’d love California. The keys to the property are in my safe.”

Z nodded gratefully, picking up his bag and turning to go. “Z, wait!” He turned.

“You can’t be that golden. I mean, people are all about tanning there so that’s okay, but

you…well…shimmer. You’ll never fit in unless you can tone that down.”

“Noted.” Z winked.

Tavyn let go of Kansas, walking over to embrace his old friend. “Safe journey,

Zenamulous. Come home soon.”

Z stepped back and bowed deeply. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I hear and obey.”

They watched him walk away without a backward glance. Kansas knew he would

head to the nearest open area to call the storm. And that storm would take him to another

world. It boggled the mind. If he hadn’t lived it, he never would have believed it possible.

“Are you sorry?”

Kansas turned to find Tavyn’s brooding gaze on him. “About what?”

“That you aren’t going with him. Aren’t returning to your home.”

He closed the gap between them, placing his hand on Tavyn’s heart. So the king had

been a little insecure as well. “This is where I belong.” He patted Tavyn’s chest, then

pulled him into a warm embrace.

Kansas looked up over Tavyn’s shoulder. He’d told him that they’d done some

extensive remodeling when he’d just been a young prince, but the gardens were still off

of the oldest part of the castle. The emerald walls of the building sparkled in the sunlight.

He couldn’t help but laugh. “I am home. And damned if this isn’t Oz.”

Tavyn smiled and scooped him up in his arms, heading back inside. “If your human

story is anything like the one you taught Pan, I don’t know how they got so many things

wrong.”

Kansas smiled up at his lover, the man who held his heart. He’d finally found

someone to care for, to make a life with—someone who would love him and take care of

R.G. Alexander

www.samhainpublishing.com

him in return. He’d had to go to another world to find what he’d spent a lifetime looking

for. The trade-off was more than worth it.

“The author was right about the most important thing.” He pulled Tavyn’s head

down for a kiss.

“There’s no place like home.”

About the Author

Stolen away by a free-spirited Gypsy as a child (though she still swears she’s my

mother), I spent my childhood roaming the countryside, meeting fascinating characters

and having amazing adventures. As the perpetual “new kid”, my friends more often than

not were found between the pages of a book…and in my own imagination. I read

everything I could get my hands on. At the age of 11, I read my first romance and I’ve

been hooked ever since.

I’ve been a nurse, a lead vocalist in several bands, a published lyricist and even a

returning university student majoring in Anthropology and Mythology. Throughout all of

my varied careers, I would sigh as I read one fantasy-filled story after another saying,

“Someday I want to write one of those”, until one day my husband said, “So do it.” And I

did. Now I can’t imagine doing anything else.

To learn more about R.G. Alexander please visit

www.rgalexander.com

. Send an

email to R.G. Alexander at

r.g.alexander@hotmail.com

Look for these titles by R.G. Alexander

Available Now:

Regina in the Sun

Lux in Shadow

Two mates. One sacrifice. It’s a challenge that could save them all…

or destroy everything.

Lux in Shadow

A Children of the Goddess story.

Because of his own carelessness, Lux Sariel lost his lover at the hands of the shaman

Gray Wolf, and put his Trueblood family in grave danger. Now he’s been sent on a

mission to find and protect his mortal enemy’s sister. His companion is Arygon, a sexy

Alpha who won’t take no for an answer.

When the two men find Sylvain, a sheltered and innocent beauty with power beyond

imagining, passions ignite—and suddenly none of them are certain of the future.

No one but the Goddess.

She has a plan that will change everything for Her children, Were and Vampire alike.

A challenge that will fulfill the promise of what this unusual threesome have found

together…or destroy them all.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Lux in Shadow:

“No.”

A hand tightened in her hair and then she was gasping. Lux gripped her hips, raising

her to the small pool’s edge. His features were tight, lips swollen and fangs extended with

desire.

He grabbed her wrist, pulling the forgotten hand from between her thighs to place it

behind her back. She loved it. The aggression, the passion she could see in his eyes. All

of it.

A haze had clouded her vision, wild frenzied feelings that seemed to be his and hers

all at once. It scared her, excited her and embraced her like a lover. She lifted her face

eagerly to his.

“Don’t think I forgot about you. Tempting as your hot little mouth is—your price

was a kiss from me.” He nodded and a new set of hands slid over her shoulders.

Arygon. He caught her gaze as he lowered her to the ground, smiling tightly at her

confusion. “You’re new at this type of bargaining, rabbit. Next time remember to be

more specific about where you’d like to be kissed.”

A cool breeze hit her clit as his words sunk in, her head swiveling back toward Lux

just as his lowered between her spread thighs.

Damp strands of wine colored hair clung to her skin. His mouth brushed against her,

just grazing the bare lips of her sex. She whimpered and she could feel him smile at the

sound. Was he teasing her?

Those impossibly blue eyes narrowed on the man beside her, watching as Arygon’s

fingers brushed against the curve of her breast. A thrill shot through her at the touch,

knowing both men were focused on her, wanting her.

The Were had paused in his caress at Lux’s glance. But only for an instant. She

moaned, arching in surprised arousal when he cupped one breast in his palm, squeezing a

hard, tingling nipple between his fingers.

They stared at each other in silence for one, breathless moment. It felt like forever.

Some battle of wills was going on between the two Alphas—and that’s exactly how they

were behaving, like two stubborn, posturing Alphas—but she couldn’t focus enough to

sort it out. Every inch of her skin was on fire. Inside her, she could feel the spirit of her

beast roaring for her mate.

Her hands speared through Lux’s mane, tugging until she got his attention. And boy

did she get it. Fire flared to life in the deep blue. There was a challenge in his eyes. And

maybe a hint of erotic warning. But she was beyond caring. “You promised me a kiss.”

At her words he inhaled sharply, hands tightening on her thighs. His mouth opened

in a silent snarl, fangs fully extended toward Arygon. “Only her breasts, Dydarren.”

That cryptic command was all the warning she got. His head disappeared between

her thighs, Arygon’s fingers twisting and plucking at her nipple more aggressively as she

felt the first broad swipe of Lux’s tongue.

“Oh my Shining Mother.”

Arygon laughed at her gasped words. “Feel good, rabbit?” He lowered his mouth,

closing his teeth on her nipple for a small teasing bite before wrapping his rough tongue

around the peaked bud. His hand slid across her chest to stroke her neglected breast and

she arched off the cool stone floor.

Lightning flashes of sensation flayed her. The hot mouth on her breast causing her

womb to clench. The tongue thrusting inside her pussy, gathering the heated arousal that

coated her sex. It was too much. She’d never imagined it would be this powerful. This all

consuming.

Then there were his emotions. Lux. His need was a tidal wave. A hunger so strong

she wasn’t sure how he could contain it. He groaned low as he pressed deeper, eating at

her, consuming her as if he’d never get enough.

Arygon lifted his mouth from her breast. “Fuck, that is the sexiest thing I’ve ever

seen. He loves it, rabbit. It’s enough to make me wish he’d kissed you first, just so I

could get a taste.”

Lux growled a warning, continuing to drive her to distraction with his tongue. She

cried out at the vibration, unable to still her movements as her hips thrust against his

mouth. Tears streamed down her cheeks, the boiling wave crashing around her as she

came with his name on her lips. “Lux. Oh Goddess, Lux.”

He rose up from the water, climbing over her, his lips panting against her own.

Arygon’s mouth and hands disappeared and all she could see, all she could feel was Lux.

His cock slid against her sex and she trembled. The feel of his skin pressed against

hers renewed her need for him. The need for her mate.

His jaw was clenched tight. She could feel his restraint. His gaze dropped to her

neck, at the pulse she felt pounding there. “I could take you right now. You’re so ready

for me. So wet. I could take you and drink your blood down. Then I would know all your

secrets. Know why the male Weres fear the women. Know if I should fear you. If I can

trust you.”

He nipped at her lips, leaning down to nuzzle her neck, lapping at the pulse point.

“Let me, Sylvain. Let me taste you in everyway there is. Let me sink my cock inside you

like I’m dying to. Invite me in.”

Her blood cooled at his words, panic replacing desire. She wanted to. If only he

knew how much she wanted to. But her brother’s ghost was too strong a presence.

Voicing her own insecurities.

He’ll know. If he bites you he’ll know. If they find out what you are—this lifetime of

hiding will mean nothing. They will kill you. No one can know, little sister. No one can

ever know.

He must have seen the answer in her eyes, his own growing cold, shutting her out. In

one fluid motion he left her, towering above her with a humorless smile. “Forgive me for

offending you, Shadow. I forgot myself for a moment. It won’t happen again.”

She flinched at his words. He’d called her Shadow again. Did he think she was like

her brother? That she hated him because he was Vampire? She caught a glimmer of what

might be regret in his expression before it went hard once more. As hard and

impenetrable as the rock around them.

“I’ll take first watch. Get some sleep, both of you. Maybe tomorrow the old woman

will wake and tell me why you are in hiding, what danger stalks you. If there is a way to

resolve this, perhaps my sister-in-law will be satisfied—and I can leave you in peace.”

He turned without another word. She felt her heart breaking with each step he took

away from her. No matter what choice she made, it seemed, he would be lost to her.

“Why would you deny your mate?” Arygon’s somber voice broke the oppressive

silence that had descended on the small, warm room. Her pulse stuttered as she glanced

over at Arygon.

“It’s an undeniable aroma. You’ve begun emitting the pheromone that precedes the

mating cycle. Since we’re not in mating season that can only mean one thing.”

“Yo-you won’t tell him?” He tilted his head, studying her for long, silent moments as

she held her breath.

“You won’t tell him he is your mate and you wouldn’t let him bite you. A female

who has found her mate is usually compelled by an instinct she cannot control to tie her

mate to her—and yet you resist. You are not the average Were, even for a Shadow Wolf,

are you?”

“Neither are you.”

Arygon grimaced as he stood, heedless of his nudity and still flagrant erection,

walking over to where his clothes had been folded neatly by Lux and his interesting

abilities. “I won’t deny the obvious, rabbit.”

He laughed as he pulled his shirt over his head. “Aren’t we a pair? Both far from our

packs, from our families. Both of us holding tight to our secrets.”

He knelt down beside her, looking into her eyes and giving her a quick kiss on the

forehead. Before he stood he repeated the formal words usually reserved for the males

during season. “Thank you for honoring me with your body, little sister. I hold you in the

highest respect.”

Before he left he smiled over his shoulder with a wink, making her smile in return.

“And I hope you will honor me again.”

A night of brutality destroyed her innocence…can the love of two people heal her

wounded spirit?

Bound by Steel

An Emissaries of Belthalas story.

“I’ve been thinking about Kaela…”

There they are—the words that lead Gil to suspect his wife Lianon is falling in love

with Kaela, the beautiful, traumatized young woman they rescued from certain death six

months ago. Gil has no idea how to compete with a woman for his wife’s affections, and

part of him ceases to care as Kaela begins to work her way under his skin.

Kaela’s sweet innocence fills a chasm in Lianon’s soul she hadn’t even realized was

there. As she gently helps Kaela rebuild her shattered confidence, Lianon begins to

believe healing the young woman’s wounded spirit could be the key to wholeness for all

three of them. If Gil agrees to follow her lead and help Kaela discover her own feminine

power.

But even as they all succumb to their growing desire, Gil and Lianon are drawn

against their will back into the intrigues and vendettas of Belthalas’ elite. With Lianon’s

life at stake, Gil must weave a dangerous path between one adversary’s ambition and

another’s lust for vengeance.

Success will save Lianon…but could cost them Kaela.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Bound by Steel:

“So have you worked for the chancellor before?” Lianon asked, dipping a dampened

cloth in a bowl of menthol and soda and lifting it to her mouth.

“The old one, yes,” Gil said, loosening the laces at the neck of his shirt. “Fat old

bastard with a sick sense of humor. I don’t know about this new fellow, though. He’s

only been in office a few months. Take off your clothes.”

Lianon’s stomach flipped over. His tone hadn’t changed in the slightest—gods, he

wasn’t even looking at her—but at his words her heart started to kick against her ribs.

She gave her teeth one last scrub and set her cloth down. Slowly, she turned to face him.

“Do it quickly, would you?” he said lightly, his eyes finally coming to rest on her.

The heat in them turned her knees to water. Without a word, she began to work her laces

loose and pulled her shirt off over her head. His gaze fastened on her breasts, too small to

really warrant binding of any sort, but his favorite part of her body, she knew. Smiling to

herself, she drew her fingers across her pebbling nipples to tease him. One glance told her

his cock was hard and straining against the confinement of his clothes.

“Trousers,” he said, no lightness left in his voice now. He tugged his shirt free of his

waistband and began to work it up his torso, but seemed reluctant to disrupt his view long

enough to pull it off over his head. Smiling wider, Lianon unbuttoned her trousers and

untied the drawstring of her drawers, and let them slide down her legs to rumple at her

feet. Slowly she lifted one bare foot free, then the other.

His throat-knot worked visibly as he swallowed. “Every day I forget how beautiful

you are,” he whispered. “Get on the bed.”

She obeyed the letter of his command, if not the spirit, sitting primly on the edge of

the mattress with her knees together, grinning up at him. “Kiss me.”

His answering grin was wolfish, and he dragged his shirt the rest of the way off.

“Open your legs, and I will, love.”

Her belly tightened, her nipples were aching points, and the place between her legs

throbbed with awareness. Gods, she was on fire and he hadn’t even touched her yet.

Glancing slyly up at him, she opened her legs a hand’s breadth. He dropped to his knees

in front of her, reaching up to cup the back of her head and draw her to him. His lips

toyed with hers, his tongue flitting between them. Her own joined his, chasing and

playing until she was filled with his taste, salt and wine and an undercurrent of earthiness

that was just him. His other hand crept up her torso and began to tug on her nipple,

twisting and plucking, each touch sending a bolt of pleasure snaking down to her pussy.

“Wider,” he muttered against her lips. “Wide so I can put my mouth where you want

it. Wide so I can push my tongue all the way inside you.”

Gods, that he could say such things and not even blush. She inched her legs another

notch apart.

His lips left hers and kissed a path down her throat, pausing briefly on her collarbone

before taking her nipple in his mouth. He sucked hard, his tongue flicking over the

already rock-hard bead and she couldn’t suppress a moan as the pleasure hovered briefly

toward the edge of pain.

“Wider,” he insisted. He pulled back and stared down at what he could see of her

sex, his eyes dark and his face set. His chest was heaving, and she thought of teasing him

a bit more. “I want to see your cunt. Show it to me, Lianon.”

All thought of teasing fled. Her sex was pulsating, her clit a straining, yearning bud

that needed to be touched. Slowly she lowered her back to the mattress and spread her

legs. Wide. She was as flexible as an acrobat, and by the time she reached her limit, her

pussy was open to him like the petals of a freshly cut orchid. The cool air of their

bedroom kissed her slick, heated folds. His gaze fixed on her swollen nether lips and he

leaned in, his hands coming to rest on her inner thighs. Dipping his head close, parting

her inner labia with his thumbs, he blew a stream of air across her, then licked her slowly

from opening to clit. Her whole body jerked as his tongue hooked under the hood of her

nub and wiggled, sending delicious ripples of sensation all the way to her toes.

She grabbed his head with one hand, her fingers tunneling through his dark waves,

and tried to pull him closer, but he would have none of it.

“Greedy wench,” he scolded. “It’s bad manners to wolf down a meal.” His tongue

slipped back between her folds, circling her clit. “A gentleman should take his time.” He

sucked the hard nub into his mouth and nipped it with his teeth, and she bit her lip to keep

from screaming as the walls of her cunt tingled and wept. “Savor.” God help her, he was

savoring, shoving his tongue up into her channel and lapping up her juices.

She thrust herself toward him, scooting her bottom right to the edge of the mattress,

but he only chuckled. Pulling his mouth away, he smiled up at her, his lips and whiskers

glistening. “Such eagerness is hardly becoming in a lady.”

Gods, he could be infuriating! “Gil, please, god, just put your mouth on me. Make

me come all over it. Please.”

He grinned from one ear to the other. “You ask so nicely,” he praised, then dove

back in in earnest. Pressing his whole mouth onto her sex, he sucked and licked and

teased and flicked and swirled and bit until she was writhing and bucking and moaning.

She couldn’t control her movements, couldn’t control her breath. Inside she was coiling

like a spring, tighter and tighter. Her clit was as hard as a pebble, standing straight up,

and his tongue lashed at it, over and over. Every touch added to the pressure building just

inside the swelling, seeping walls of her cunt, and she knew he was purposely keeping

her just at the threshold, damn him.

Opening her eyes, she looked down at him as his mouth worked her pussy. His gaze

was almost worshipful as his eyes met hers. She felt her throat start to close at the sight,

at the understanding that he was hers and always would be, and the light of the candles

began to fragment amid a haze of tears. Blinking rapidly, she made herself look away.

And saw Kaela standing in the part-open doorway, peering in, her face a

combination of horror and fascination. Her eyes met Lianon’s and held, widening at

having been caught peeking. But Lianon wasn’t angry or embarrassed. God, no. The

other woman’s gaze on her was like pitch poured on a flame. Lianon’s stomach clenched,

her pussy began to pulse and without taking her eyes from Kaela’s she was coming.

“Ahhhhh, god, Gil!” she hissed between her teeth, her hand pressing his face hard

against her as her cunt spasmed and wept. And the bastard just pushed two fingers up into

her and began to stroke the bundle of nerves on the upper wall of her channel, even as he

sucked her clit into his mouth once more. Before the first orgasm had time to dissipate,

she was plunged into another harder one. A high, keening wail reached her ears. In

burgeoning mortification, she realized it was her own voice, a long, wordless cry of

agonized pleasure.

In the doorway, Kaela watched silently, her face flushed a becoming pink, her lips

parted on swift breaths, one hand raised to touch her scar as if to anchor herself in reality.

Lianon saw her through a haze of pleasure that threatened to engulf her, to wring the life

right out of her and leave her a limp and wasted scrap of flesh.

Gil stood and stripped off his trousers. Lianon’s gaze briefly left Kaela’s to smile up

at him. His cock sprang free, pointing skyward, bedewed with a pearlescent droplet of

fluid. Reaching up, she pulled him close as he settled between her legs and thrust. She

felt her body mold itself to the shape of him, as if his cock belonged inside her, as if she

carried the precise contours of him in her female flesh. His mouth seared a path from her

throat to her shoulder, then his teeth sank gently into the rounded muscle there as his

rhythm increased. Her gaze lifted to the door again.

Kaela was gone.

A troll’s missing head could cause Markhat to lose his own.

The Mister Trophy

All the finder Markhat wanted was a beer at Eddie’s. Instead he gets a case that will

bring him face to fang with crazed, blood-craving halfdead, a trio of vengeful Troll

warriors, and Mama Hog’s backstreet magic. Plus, the possible resurgence of the Troll

War.

All right in his own none-too-quiet neighborhood.

Through the town of Rannit’s narrow alleys and mean streets, Markhat tries to stay

one step ahead of disaster. And ignore Mama Hog’s dire warnings that this time, the head

that rolls could be his own.

Warning: This book contains well-dressed vampires, extremely polite Trolls, and

occasional bursts of humor. Avoid reading it when landing aircraft, welding in the nude

or taunting grumpy jackals while wearing pork chop earmuffs.

Enjoy the following excerpt for The Mister Trophy:

Eddie the barkeep stared at the Troll and then at the “Dead Troll Tavern” emblem

carved into the bar-top and then back at the Troll. The Troll grinned. Forty-eight finger-

long incisors popped out, sharper and shinier than anything Eddie might have hidden

behind the bar and dripping with poisonous Troll saliva to boot.

Eddie deftly dropped his drying rag on the Dead Troll carving, wiped his grubby

hands on his equally grubby apron and donned a shaky tough-guy scowl. “Yeah?” he said

to the Troll. “You want something?”

The Troll boomed something back. A second later, Kingdom words rang out in a flat

male human voice. “I come for the finder Markhat.”

I choked on my beer. The Troll’s neckless head swiveled, owl-fashion, to face me. It

gargled more words in Troll, and its translator spell spoke again. “You are the finder

named Markhat.”

“Nope,” I said quickly. “Not me. Not Markhat. Never met the gent.”

The Troll glided over, flashing me that mouthful of nightmares smile. “I was told

you would deny your name,” it said. “Shameful. I am—” The Troll spoke its name, and

the translator gave up, leaving me with the sound of dishwater gurgling down a sink-

drain.

“Honored to meet you, Walking Stone,” I said, as the Troll reached my table. “May

your shadow fall tall and your soul grow to meet it.” I rose, my knowledge of Troll

etiquette nearly exhausted. “I am not he that you seek, though, and anyway I hear he

married a centaur and retired to the Fiti Coast. Why don’t you finish my ale and—”

The Troll’s grin split wider. It made a very human gesture for silence, finger at lips,

and then it pulled back its greatcloak just far enough to reveal three fist-sized chunks of

shiny solid gold on a fat wrought silver chain. Trolls don’t value gold themselves, but

they do use it to barter with the other races. Word is that Trolls don’t haggle; they just

stack money in big piles until someone says “yes”.

I sat down. Hard. The Troll shoved a rickety chair aside and squatted on the floor

across from me.

“I walked fifty sunsets to see you, Finder,” it said. “I wade wide swamps, swim deep

rivers, sleep on brother stones.”

“I live three blocks from here,” I replied. “So, I suppose, I walked fifteen minutes

and drank two beers and sat on cousin chair.”

The Troll’s translator choked my words slowly out. The bar cleared, except Eddie,

whose right eye—the blue one—hovered unsteadily behind a wide crack in the storeroom

door.

The Troll barked and gurgled. My hackles rose, though I recognized booming

Trollish laughter. “You jest with me, Finder Markhat,” it said. “You are brave. I admire

bravery.” It leaned closer, yellow slitted owl-eyes narrowing. “I pay well for bravery.”

I shook my head. “Someone usually does, Walking Stone,” I said. “Just how much

bravery are you wanting to buy?”

“You will go to a place I shall name,” said the Troll. “You will contrive to be

admitted therein, and you shall determine if a certain object is displayed there. If so, you

shall communicate my message to the masters of the place.”

Boots scuffed at the door, but hushed voices warned them off and Eddie lost another

customer.

“This isn’t very private, Walking Stone,” I said. “And before I say yes or no, I need

names. What place, what masters and what object?”

The Troll leaned close. My hair tried to stand on end. I’d been that close to a Troll

only once before, twenty years ago. If a fat Marine sergeant hadn’t put a harpoon through

its skull, I’d be laid out with the other war heroes up on the Hill.

“The place is called Haverlock, Finder,” whispered the Troll’s translator. “Its

masters bear the same name. The object is a trophy taken during the War. A head, stuffed

and mounted. A Walking Stone head.”

I finished my beer. “What’s the message, Walking Stone?”

The Troll grinned again. “You have what is ours,” he said. “Return it. With

apologies. At once.”

Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

It’s all about the story…

Action/Adventure

Fantasy

Historical

Horror

Mainstream

Mystery/Suspense

Non-Fiction

Paranormal

Red Hots!

Romance

Science Fiction

Western

Young Adult

www.samhainpublishing.com

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