A primes passion, p.1
A Prime's Passion, page 1
A Prime’s Passion
The Pretern Wars
Shiloh Walker
Copyright info
Shiloh Walker © 2020
First released in Serialized Format On Wattpad As
The Wolf and The Willow
Cover Design Shiloh Walker
Image © 1greyday | Deposit Photos
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter One
2159
The Mermaid’s Tale
Provincetown, Massachusetts
“... this place is a hole in the wall and the servers can be ruder than all get-out if you’re not local, but oh, my goodness, if you want some eye candy, you have to check this place out. Apparently, almost all the employees are actual Atargarian merfolk!”
-online review, anonymous user.
“Damn, you’re the sweetest damn thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”
Zennia Day, known to most people as Zee, looked up from her reading pad to study the tall, sexy piece of work who’d sidled his way up to the bar. He gave her a slow smile that flashed white against brown skin and made his eyes, an even deeper shade of brown, crinkle up at the corners.
Inside, her seductive, base nature flexed and stretched, trying to slip away from the leash that always tried to keep it in place.
Amused by the man’s comment, and captivated by the warmth and appreciation in his smile, she braced her elbow on the scarred surface of the bar. “Have you had your eyes checked recently?”
“Actually, yeah.” His face lit up with a smile. Dimples appeared in his cheeks, deepening his already strong appeal. “It’s a requirement for the day job. I’m a pilot for Air Command. I assure you, ma’am. My vision is perfect. You’re definitely the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in... well, a long time.”
The way he watched her told her he meant every word, and while she did have to throttle that inner, base seductress, that wasn’t all of who she was. She was also part wolf and her wolf scented no lies on the man.
He thought she was the most beautiful woman in The Mermaid’s Tale, an Atargarian pub in Provincetown.
Atargarians were notoriously beautiful, and the merfolk even more so.
Oh, wow. Sexier and sexier. The hungry thing inside her whispered even as her more cautious, pragmatic aspect advised her to send him on his way. There wasn’t really even any point in this, something she’d learned over the past ten years.
But that hungry thing had already gone from hungry to starved, desperate, and ready to devour.
It didn’t take much for that voice to overrule caution and pragmatism.
“Day trip from the base?” she asked, gesturing casually to the seat next to hers, appreciating that he hadn’t immediately taken it.
Air Command had permanent bases located along the coasts of every country allied with the United Reform Nations. It was a requirement of membership, not to induce fear of martial law, but so that the various races could act together in a quick, cohesive unit during times of natural disaster or in response to the occasional—and often violent—revolt against the parameters set out to protect the fragile peace put in place after the Slaughters.
Mortals called the Slaughters the Preternatural Wars. Depending on which side of the line one fell on, those same mortals might attempt to lay the blame solely at the feet of those Preternaturals, or Preterns for short, the moniker given to any person who didn’t identify as human, despite the fact that Preterns were made up of several wholly unique and different races.
This man was clearly mortal, but if he was with Air Command, then he had to know he was dealing with a Pretern. And he still liked what he saw.
“Yeah.” He held out a hand. “I’m Dumond Haines—AC Lieutenant First Class. My friends call me Duke.”
Slowly, Zee slipped her hand into Duke’s much larger one and the hungry creatures within her yowled in demand. “Zee,” she said softly and braced herself.
But Duke only cocked his head. “As in the letter?”
“Sort of.” She laughed, a nervous giddiness spreading through her belly. He doesn’t know. “The name is Zennia, but I’ve been Zee all my life.”
“Well, Zee. Would you let me buy you a drink?”
The giddy nerves went from vibrating nervously to jumping. He really didn’t know. “I’d love a drink.”
As he turned to look for the bartender, she chanced a look around the bar. The place looked like a dive—on purpose—Meridia preferred it to look inhospitable. Her hope was that it would keep the “tourists” out. It didn’t work, but still, she persisted.
Zee saw a number of familiar faces, but these were friends. Some had come to be family and it was almost enough to ease the ache inside her sometimes.
As one of the few Therians in this region dominated by the water-based Atargarians, Zee had applied for a job teaching Therian history and culture to a middle school located in this small town. To her surprise, she hadn’t just been called in for an interview, she’d been hired on the spot.
That had been eight years ago and over time, the Atargarians had come to consider her as one of them.
None of them would look at her sideways if she left this place with a man. A few male Atargarians had even attempted to court her, but all of them had been brutally dominant. Their dominance hadn’t been the problem. She knew if push came to shove and outside forces interfered, blood would be spilled.
She didn’t want that on her conscience.
Too many of the human males in the region had heard about her issues through the grapevine and they, like the few Therians she’d met over the years, avoided her. For them, it might have been more out of fear, or at least a healthy respect for Therian male dominance and possessiveness.
This man, though, had no clue who she was.
“Heya, Zee.” The man who came to stand in front of them was tall and heavily muscled, his eyes a warm, velvety brown unless he was angry or hyped up on other strong emotions. Now, those eyes smiled at her.
Donner Hawthorne, big and brutal and as deadly as the orca he shifted into, also had a decidedly mischievous bent to him, especially when it came to those he considered part of his family.
She could practically hear him encouraging her. Go for it, Zee. Now.
Hell, if there was a private room in the bar other than Meridia’s office or the supply room with the busted door, he’d probably lean in and tell her to drag the man with her and get it over with already.
Zee blushed, a part of her hating how easy some of her friends could read her. At the same time, their love and support meant everything.
Donner turned his attention to the man at her side. Duke could meet him eye to eye easily. He smiled, although he averted his gaze in a telling manner, alerting both Zee and Donner to the fact Duke was well aware of certain aspects about Atargarians.
Donner took his measure in one quick glance. “You stationed at the AC outside Boston?”
“I am.” A rueful grin curved his lips. “I think it must be written on my forehead. Does it say anywhere up there Midwesterner, born and bred, up there too?”
“Nah.” Donner shrugged. “But the accent gives you away. What’s your pleasure, AC?”
“I’ll buy the lady whatever she wants,” he said, looking over at Zee with a warm smile. Then he named a beer from a local brewery.
“You want your usual, Zee?” Donner looked at her and gave her a quick wink.
Her cheeks flushed and while Duke was facing the other way, she mouthed, Stop it.
Instead, Donner put a hand to his chest and mimicked a throbbing heart.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Duke looking back toward them. Quick as a wish, Donner had turned away, whistling innocently like he wasn’t already looking forward to teasing her like mad later on.
“Here you go... ” Two minutes later, Donner was back in front of them, putting a beer in front of Duke before placing an electric blue cocktail in front of Zee.
Her cheeks flamed even hotter, a groan rising in her throat.
“And for you, honey, a Mermaid s Orgasm.”
“That’s not my usual,” she said in a choked voice.
Donner gave her another look of pure innocence.
She fought the urge to pound her head—or his—against the surface of the bar. “It’s not? You and Meridia binged on them the last time you two were in here. Here. I’ll take it—”
“It’s fine,” she said, taking it before giving him a dark look that promised revenge. Turning to Duke and effectively dismissing Donner, she said, “So, why P-town?”
He hadn’t noticed Donner’s antics, or he’d chosen to ignore them, keeping his attention on her.
The clawing, tugging hunger inside her stretched even more. Stop, we don’t even know if we like him yet.
We don’t need to! The twin urges inside her were one on this. We need skin. We need touch. We need—
She slammed the door shut on the voices so she could focus on Duke.
After a few seconds, he looked up from her drink—the Mermaid’s Orgasm. “It’s very... blue.”
“The owner of the bar likes to play around with the recipes.” She took a sip of the fruity cocktail, acutely aware that almost everybody in the bar was sending glances her way, and more than a few were grinning, just like Donner. “So, the Midwest, huh? How long have you been stationed out here near the Cape?”
“Only a few weeks.” He gave her a boyishly charming grin. “My people lived in St. Louis. I got sick a lot when I was a kid. It was so bad one year, they thought I might not survive to see Christmas and since I'd always wanted to see the ocean, they took me to Virginia and we stayed at a hotel right on the coast. I got better eventually.” A bemused look entered his eyes and he shrugged. “Like a lot better. My folks were well off so my mom rented a house right on the beach while my father traveled back and forth for the next two years. I kept getting better. Then my dad died when I was nineteen. Mom slipped away less than a month later. Since I didn't have anybody else, I decided to join AC. I've been at almost every base along the Atlantic Coast.” He paused to give a teasing smile. “Once I hit Fort Lauderdale, I get a special souvenir, I hear.”
Charmed by the playful joke, she smiled at him. “And after that special souvenir, are you done or are you staying in for another six years?”
“As long as they keep stationing me in coastal bases? I'm in.” He shrugged. “I love the sea. It's not because of whatever crazy stuff made me sick as a kid. I grew out of that—doctors theorized it was some allergen local to that part of the country that caused a severe reaction in me, although others disagreed. I just...” He sighed, a far-off look in his eyes and a faint smile on his lips. “I love the sea.”
“Let me guess. You saw one of the mermaids on that first trip.” She couldn't help but return his engaging, charming smile.
“No.” He grinned. It was infectious, that smile, bright and humorous against his dark-as-coffee skin. “At least, if I did, they weren't in their water form. I'm sure I saw a few while I was there but I was too young to know human from Atargarian at that age. Plus, again, the Midwest. Not a lot of mermaids roaming there. There are plenty of Therians, although the largest populations in Missouri are the fox.”
That's why he doesn't know. Glee and hope now mixed with the hunger inside and she breathed a little easier, relaxed. She let him pull her into a conversation unlike any she'd had in recent memory.
“I've only met a couple of Therian foxes,” she said, smiling a little. She'd liked the mated pair she'd met just a few months after settling down here. They'd come on vacation to see the Cape and Zee had connected with the woman immediately, although it had hurt her heart to hear them talk about their den. None had asked about her own pack. It was considered rude to ask about what wasn't freely offered. “Do you miss home?”
“Not so much.” His smile faded. “To me, home was my mom and dad and with them gone, there's nothing left to go back to.”
Reaching out, she touched his hand. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. Let’s talk about something else, like that sexy-as-sin voice of yours. I think I’ll hear it in my dreams.”
Years of practice let her keep a straight face, even as she flinched inside. She had a handy lie, one she told to keep people from dwelling on it, because it did hurt to think about the soft, mellifluous voice she’d once had. Years ago, it had once been as bright and clear as a bell, she’d once been told.
“Actually... ” She gave him a pained smile that wasn’t entirely feigned. “I was injured when I was younger—my throat never healed well. I don’t like to talk about it.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Duke winced.
“It’s okay. You didn’t know.” She touched his hand again, and this time, he turned his over and laced their fingers.
The contact made her breathless. Looking up into those dark, velvety eyes, she thought, Maybe... Please...
She was so tired of being alone, so tired of the aches inside that came from a complete lack of touch.
ZEE ACTUALLY FLIRTED.
And giggled.
And smiled so hard her face hurt.
Through it all, the hungry things within her demanded freedom.
She smashed them down time and again with the ease that came from years and years of containing those aspects of her nature.
Because she was part wolf, she understood in some ways. Therian wolves, like their animal counterparts, were pack creatures and they thrived best when with their pack.
Zee had no pack. She had nobody to offer the casual touches Therians grew accustomed to, and needed, almost from the beginning.
That other part of her, she understood little of it, but she felt the hunger, and the pain.
This hurt went deep, and it wasn’t an emotional pain, but a physical one. Lately, it was worse than normal too.
Tonight, that pain was edged with something sweeter.
Finally, she might be able to have sex and do something about the physical needs she’d had to stifle for so long.
A wolf wasn’t meant to be alone.
And the other aspect of her nature... she didn’t understand it, but the little she’d been able to learn had told her that touch wasn’t just wanted, but necessary. Those who were full-blooded would wither and die without touch. If she didn’t have Therian blood within, she would have wasted away a long time ago. She had nobody around to teach her more about that other eerie part of herself; her mother had died when she was a baby and Zee hadn’t even learned about this aspect of her nature until she was already a young woman, growing into a person who needed physical contact like it was her sustenance.
That need raged within her now.
More than an hour after he’d first arrived, Duke moved in so close, she felt the warmth of his breath brush over her lips and she had to choke back the whimper that almost escaped, thrash the other part into submission—and it didn’t want to listen.
“I’ve got this crazy need to kiss you, Zee. Am I risking life and a limb if I try?” Duke’s eyes, so dark brown they appeared black, held hers.
“No.” She licked her lips and hoped he’d kiss her, hoped he’d touch her, even as she hoped he’d never notice how foreign all of this was to her.
He reached up and cradled her cheek in his hand and then his mouth was on hers. Soft at first, his tongue tracing the curve of her lower lip before seeking entrance to her mouth.
This... kissing... this, she remembered. A hungry noise escaped and she eased closer—or tried to. Duke stood next to the stool where she was perched, making her position awkward. But then he moved closer, and in what felt like a completely natural response, she parted her jean-clad thighs and he stepped between them, deepening the kiss.
She pulled away to gasp for breath—and maybe ask if he’d come upstairs to the apartment where she lived.
But he was already kissing her again, with more focus and determination this time.
She moaned and reached up, cupping the back of his head, the short, raspy feel of his hair abrading her palm.
“Son of a—fuck, Donner!”
A scent hit her—holly, cedar, birch... and fur and wildness and sweet mountain air.
Pack... except, no. It wasn’t pack. Not anymore—pain spliced through her heart, tearing and clawing. It all happened in microseconds while she clung to Duke and then she wasn’t even touching him.
The big, strong military man was stumbling back into a wooden table, but he moved fluidly with the movement, eyes going sharp as he instinctively recognized a threat. He drew a knife from his boot—as an officer with one of the military branches, he’d be authorized to carry any number of weapons, and he moved fast.
