The Druid Series 9: Baird
Series: The Druid Series #9
Published on August 22nd 2014 Genres: Adult, Erotic Romance, Paranormal, Romance
Siana has disappeared. As an Exotic and Druid warrior queen, she is not fully beholden to the magick call of sex slavery as her sister Druid witches. She does not realize as she runs, Baird and Kael follow with opposing agendas.
Now that Jessamine is within the subjugation of the undead, the Druid females will be ruled by the fair hand of Imogen and her Reaper mates, Carrig and Quinn.
Altho, and the gifted Druid female Seraphina, cannot reconcile the inception of their relationship, and her promise to be his as payment. Altho seeks shelter from the Reaper leader, Maghnus… only to discover what is important was not as he thought.
Can Siana obtain the freedom she wishes and the love she denies? Will the new kingdom of Reapers succeed in the protection of their Druid females? Do Altho and Maghnus hold the key to revolutionizing the power structure of both Druid and Reaper?
Altho slides them up the bark of the tree, their clothing catching on the rough bark, his eyes latching onto each Were as they approach.
It has been many a season since he was unlucky enough to stand face to face with a werewolf.
Something calls them from their reclusive natures.
Altho shifts Seraphina’s weight and his hand comes away with blood.
Of course—Druid blood is a scent that would bring every supernatural who desires it.
“Oh dear goddess,” Seraphina says. “I cannot subdue them.”
Altho knows this. She is the natural complement to a Reaper or pure-blood Druid male such as himself. Seraphina can be used by the Were, but it would be sacrilege and the only gain would be an early genetic tie to the Were. Most Druid breeders have only vampiric lineage.
However, a small percentage have an ancient tie to the cousin of the vampire, both Reaper, Exotic and rogue.
Blood never lies. The Were are renown, like their relative the wolf, to having the most sensitive noses of all species on earth. It is no small matter that Seraphina spills blood and they come.
Altho counts six and his hands slick, his heartbeat thudding in his ears like a river.
His hands come away empty of runes.
There are spells, but without the help of runes, they might be ineffective.
“Do not let them take me, Altho,” Seraphina says, still weak from the feed of the Faction.
Altho knows only the slimmest of escape is possible. He utters the response she most wants anyway.
His arms tighten around her.
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