Wicked Burn (Realm Enforcers #3)(96)
Funny that he was only kind of kidding. If anybody threatened his child, he’d take them out; that much Simone knew. Of course, he’d only get to an enemy if she didn’t get there first. “My brothers are working on a plan dealing with the fact that dragons are now public. We’ll need treaties.”
“Not a problem. We’ll take care of it.” He smiled. “I figured part of the problem with the dragons was that Desmond was a paranoid lunatic.”
“Aye.” She couldn’t help but return the grin. “I know there’s a lot going on right now, but I can’t help but be happy.” He meant so much to her, and finally, they were together. So much stronger together.
“We’ll figure it all out. I promise.” Nick’s shoulders straightened, so strong and sure. “We’re going to be happy, Simone.”
She nodded. Aye, aye, they were. “I love you, Veis.”
He leaned in and whispered a kiss across her mouth. “I’ve loved you from the first second I saw you, and you’ve definitely been worth the wait. My little bunny.”
Please read on for a special Dark Protectors novella from Rebecca Zanetti.
Dear Reader,
I wanted to write a novella and tie the Dark Protectors to the Realm Enforcers, so I put out the question to my Facebook Street team, Rebecca’s Rebels, on who they’d like to see in a novella to be included with Wicked Burn.
There was one pair they overwhelmingly said they’d like to catch up with—so here’s Talen, an adventure for Talen and Cara. I hope you like it!
Chapter 1
Cara Paulsen Kayrs hummed as she finished watering the plants in her spacious kitchen and sprawling living room. She’d settled nicely into the new neighborhood fronting an Idaho lake with her family and friends all around.
Her mate strode in from the back porch. “There’s another letter from that university across the country.”
She stilled. “I haven’t given them an answer yet.”
He growled low then . . . six and a half feet of pure male, stubborn vampire. “The answer to your teaching botany glasses at a human university is . . . no.”
She forced a smile. As an empath, she could feel his concern for her down to her bones, but it was time for them to enjoy being alive. “The war is over, and I’d like to get back to work. There are so many uses for simple plants, and it’s time we used our advanced technology to help humans.”
He lowered his chin in what could only be described as a warning. He’d nearly died not too long ago, but only a thin strip of gray in his thick dark hair showed he’d ever been vulnerable. Corded muscle and masculine strength lined his body, and his rugged face held health and a warrior’s experience. Those golden eyes could go as hard as death in an instant if his family was threatened.
He was the biggest, strongest, toughest badass of them all . . . and he was all hers. Although he’d lived more than three centuries, the man looked thirty-two. He’d been tense lately—bossier than usual—and she’d had enough. “You can work here, privately and not go public,” he said calmly.
Oh, her temper wanted loose and now. “The war is over, and we can’t stay shacked up forever.” While she appreciated his driving need to keep her safe, she had a lot to contribute to this world, and it was time for her to get started. She was finally healthy. “Why don’t you get the car ready and stop bossing me around.”
One eyebrow rose in an oddly sexual way. Oh, she’d pay for the comment later, but as long as the night ended in multiple orgasms, it was difficult to really care. “Watch yourself, mate,” he rumbled.
Her body quivered head to toe. They’d been mated for more than twenty-five years, and he still had the ability to make her breath catch in her throat. “You can watch me all you want on the road. Go get the car.”
He cocked his head then, his gaze thoughtful. “All right. You asked for it.” Turning on one combat boot, he loped through the house and out the front door.
She tried to calm her raging hormones. When he got all dominant and sexy, she could barely stand still. But it was time the man stopped treating her like the fragile invalid she’d been for over two decades. She was cured . . . and she was healthy. Life was great.
The front door opened, and her daughter, Janie, moved aside as a bundle of energy toddled past her.
“Hope!” Cara set the watering can on the floor and leaned down so the little girl could waddle into her arms. At fourteen months old, the child never stopped moving.
“Cara.” Hope patted Cara’s cheeks with chubby hands, her deep blue eyes sparkling. “Pretty Cara.”
Cara tucked the girl close. No matter how hard any of them tried to get the girl to call them Nana, Papa, Aunt . . . she used first names only. “Did Kane have any luck getting her to call him by the right name?”
Janie snorted and shut the door, pushing light brown hair away from her classic face. “No, and he tried with every trick he had. Even gave her cookies.”
Cara stood and took Hope with her. “That’s hilarious.” Kane was Hope’s great-uncle and the smartest person on the planet, so when his brother had called him “Fucking Einstein” a month before, Hope had caught on and now called the poor guy “Funkin Eeeenstine.” It shouldn’t tickle Cara so, but she couldn’t help it. “Well, I hope it teaches those guys not to swear around her. She picks everything up.”