Mated to the Warrior Beast
[COMPLETE] What life is left for a warrior when there is no more enemy to fight? ...He knelt before her in the posture of a soldier giving honor to their Queen. And she didn't even know it. “Harth," he rasped, "I come empty-handed. I bring no weapon. Because I swear to you, I will never choose to harm you. Never draw your blood—in anger, or in fear. I bring no shield. Because I vow I will never defend myself from your eyes, your hands, your mind. I am yours.” ***** After a year of peace in Anima, Tarkyn finds himself... lonely. As the Captain of the Queen's Guard and a lion-shifter, he has met every female in the tribes, but never found his mate. Certain he must have overlooked someone, Tarkyn undertakes a grueling ritual, pleading with the Creator to reveal her. But the ritual presses him to the end of even his formidable strength. Yet, the Creator heard his cry... Discovered on the brink of death by his mate, Harth, and nursed back to health, Tarkyn now faces the most difficult battle of his life. Because Harth isn’t just a stranger to the Anima, she is a weapon of the humans who tried to destroy them. Can the love of a warrior and his enemy bring peace to Anima? Or will they be torn apart forever by war between their peoples? ***** STANDALONE STORY: While Tarkyn's story is a part of the Anima world and fans will be reunited with some of their favorites as side-characters, Tarkyn and Harth are new POV characters and their story is a new plot arc, so their story can be enjoyed without reading the previous books! But please add Falling in Love with the King of Beasts, and Taming the Queen of Beasts to your library to enjoy later! Cover Art by artist: Aenaluck. Find more incredible art and support the artist on www.patreon.com/aenaluck
Hot & Cold – Part 2*
~ HARTH ~
Being bathed by Tarkyn was the most erotic thing Harth had ever experienced. As he played that soap over her skin, her chest heaved and her hands trembled as much from desire as cold.
His massive, burnished body gleamed in the low light of the fire, and his eyes glowed with a fierce heat as he watched himself run the soap over her body, shivering occasionally and gripping her when she rubbed herself against him.
But after a few minutes of that, with both of them trembling, both their drives pressed to breaking point—and fueled by their sense of the others—Tarkyn made her stand on her own two feet as he quickly, efficiently, soaped up her legs.
There was a moment though, when he squatted at her feet, that he looked up at her, his eyes flashing the gold of his lion. Before she could say anything, he ran his fingers up the inside of her thigh, to the apex and found her with his fingers—slick and soapy against her softest skin.