Mythe & Magick
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Mythe & Magick
Mythe Book 1
Erin has known from the time she was fifteen that she would die at the hands of a madman. So why risk falling in love? She does it anyway, against her will, but she refuses to let Seth know how much he means to her. Her time is running out, and she wants to save him the pain.
The Empath’s Lover
When Jordan arrives at the airport earlier than expected, she can’t reach her fiancé. She calls his brother—his twin—Angelo, to come and pick her up. Arriving home, they walk in on her fiancé and her best friend in bed together. Angelo spirits her away and gives her the space she needs to think. Then he gives her every fantasy she’s ever had. There’s nothing like having a lover who knows exactly what you need—just by touching you.
Welcome to the world of Mythe, where mortals stumble and fall through the Gate into a world of elves, vampires, faeries…exotic lovers, noble heroes, and deadly magick. Pepper St. John is just your average, run of the mill witch who happened to fall through the Gate—straight into the arms of a man unlike any she had ever dreamed about.
Contains the first story-Mythe:Satyr-in the Mythe series
© Shiloh Walker
Drumming his fingers on the desk, he continued to stare at her, a frown marring his features. Black, wavy hair tumbled over his forehead, and the scowl sat rather well on his poetically handsome face. His normally smiling mouth was compressed into a grim line, and his straight black brows pulled down over his deep, deep, brown eyes. High, chiseled cheekbones and a mouth that no plastic surgeon could ever hope to duplicate completed his face, a face that had started setting girls to dreaming before he even got to junior high.
Erin knew he was watching her. Hell, she thought with inner amusement, he had always watched her from the day she had left her uniform behind and entered the private sanctum of Avalon’s small detective force. Even before that, she suspected.
Idly, as if just noticing his scrutiny, she glanced up at Seth and smiled at him as a shiver raced down her spine. Just looking at him—even after two years of being his lover and friend—just looking at him was enough to make her mouth water and her knees go weak.
His lids drooped slightly as one corner of his mouth lifted. Erin’s heart starting racing as his eyes focused on her mouth before trailing down her neck and torso, lazily working back up again until he was once more staring into her eyes.
The Empath’s Lover
Even in her sleep, she had realized it wasn’t Lee holding her. Angelo was trying hard not to be too satisfied with that as he slid from the bed. He laid a hand on her brow and told himself he was just doing it for her own good as he made sure she wasn’t going to wake up too soon.
She seriously did need to sleep.
About ten years ago Angelo had developed a new talent, something connected to his empathy, something that allowed him to do what he had done to Jordan earlier. Just guided her into sleep. He had used it to hypnotize others before, a few times. He used it rarely because he was uncomfortable with it. People shouldn’t have gifts that could allow them to coerce others.
And if Jordan hadn’t been through what she had been through today…
Damn it, he really wanted ten minutes alone with Lee. Just ten fucking minutes. How in the fuck—
He felt the pressure on his mind and left the room before he acknowledged it. It was Lee, looking for him. The touch was like a knocking on the inside of his mind. Angelo could have ignored him but there was no point. Yet.
What in the fuck do you want?
Where in the hell are you? Where’s Jordan? Lee demanded.
None of your business, bro. She gave you your ring back, remember?
That’s for me and her to discuss. Bring her back. Otherwise, I’ll find her.
Angelo smirked and flopped down on his couch, staring out the window into the darkness of the night. You can always try.
He felt the presence of Lee’s reach as he probed and he felt Lee’s surprise as he easily deflected it. Surprise, big brother, Angelo said, laughing out loud. If you had bothered to keep in touch, you might have realized little brother has been discovering some new tricks.
Jordan is mine, Lee said flatly. Lee’s mental voice was as clear to Angelo as though he was standing in the room. When he chose, he could even make others without the talent hear it. But Lee hadn’t realized that somewhere along the line, Angelo had picked up those same gifts. And Lee hadn’t developed any new talents at all.
You don’t love her, Lee. You hurt her. Even if she never found out, you still hurt her. Kait was her best friend and you two betrayed her. It’s unforgivable. If you loved her, it wouldn’t have happened.
Stay out of this, Angelo. You just want her because she’s mine, Lee warned.
Wrong, Angelo said quietly. He opened his eyes and thought of Jordan, sleeping in his sprawling bed under the skylight, her eyes still swollen from the tears she had cried on the ride up here. She cried, Lee. For hours. You hurt her, and you don’t really care about anything except losing what she can do for you. She’s not yours.
She’s mine now, and I’m keeping her, he said softly.
“I’m not in hell,” Pepper told him quietly, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve lost my damn mind.”
It wasn’t an unusual response. Not for the adults who tumbled through the Gate. Arys smiled at her, revealing white, wickedly sharp teeth, his swarthy, lean face lighting with his smile, transforming with it. “I am not surprised, no, to hear you say,” he said slowly, forcing the unusual words over his tongue while he studied her. He was going to have to touch her.
And he really did not want to do so.
Touching her meant he was going to feel her again, not just her soft skin, but her thoughts, her emotions, while he convinced her that she was in a real place. Mythe wasn’t something she’d dreamed, or some make-believe world she had entered. He could not just block such things, it wasn’t possible. The magick in his blood wouldn’t allow him to convince her how very real Mythe was, but still allow him to keep himself separate from her.
And at the same time…his hands itched to touch her again. To move over that sweet mortal body, to taste her. His cock throbbed underneath the garment he had donned. Get it over and done, Arys, he told himself.
He laid the pads of his fingers lightly on her cheek and dove into her mind. Satyr. She was familiar with the word.
She was full of bright, burning energy, knowledge, a pure silvery, shining magick. She may not have opened the Gate this day, but she would have been able to eventually. Curiosity and wonder and love and faith, heaven above, she was almost like a child with all the awe he felt inside her. Arys felt something inside her he hadn’t expected to find. A very, very strong sexual pull, toward him.
And disappointment, all centered—
Oh, for the love of the unicorn, spare me. Disgust and irritation shuddered through Arys as pictures and images flitted through her mind, all within a few brief moments while he stared into her odd eyes, one was green, one was blue. Pictures she had seen in different places, but pictures of satyrs in very unlikely scenarios—because the satyrs were all men and they were only fucking each other. Not that it didn’t happen, but it wasn’t the norm. Satyrs were generally drawn to females, be they satyr, elf, human, vampire, or dryad. But the satyr male tended to prefer the female, contrary to what this female had learned in the mortal realm.
And now a new picture…she was trying to imagine him in those pictures.
Revulsion rolled through Arys. He had no qualms if others like him chose such pastimes. But not for him. His long dormant libido flared to sudden and rampant life. He certainly didn’t want this sweet thing thinking…
“Not bloody likely, lass,” he whispered roughly, moving his hand, sweeping his fingers down along her cheek, across her jaw until he could bury his fingers inside the fire of her hair, cupping her head and forcing her gaze to meet his. “You mortals and your damn misconceptions. Let us see if we cannot fix at least this one.”
And then he lowered his head and covered her berry-pink mouth with his, pushing past the barrier of her lips and teeth with his tongue while she gasped in shock. He swung onto the bed, jerking the sheets down, pulling her lower body into close contact with his muscled thighs and rubbing his cock against her as he swept his tongue across hers, stroked her palate, tasted her. Her mouth widened greedily under his and Arys plundered deep, drinking in the taste of sweet, warm female.
He rolled atop her slim form and wedged his thighs between hers, rocking his thick, aching cock against her cleft while she moaned and whimpered underneath him, and the ridiculous pictures in her mind faded into nothingness. Once she was focused on him, and nothing else, he slid one long-fingered palm up her side and closed it over her breast, pinching the diamond-hard peak and rolling it as he sucked her tongue into his mouth and bit down.
He had never touched a mortal so—hadn’t ever really wanted to. He’d been with faeries before, satyr females, elves, a few vampire ladies, but never a human. Damnation, heaven and hell, she tasted so sweet, innocent and hot. He groaned, low and rough and pulled his mouth from hers to kiss his way down her throat, biting her skin gently over her throbbing pulse as he worked his way down her body to settle at her breasts.
“Only the body of a woman excites me, sweet,” he murmured, staring at her full round breasts, the puckered, reddened nipples, the light-blue tracery of veins just beneath the surface of her pale satiny skin. “The way they smell, and look, and taste…”
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