Ivy Morgan has finally gotten her chance to have a life of her own. Romance is not part of that plan.
Well that was before Nyx Wahpeton walked into her life.
Now Ivy's wondering if she can trust Nyx with her dark secrets but can Nyx trust her with his?
Nyx is a wolf shifter and the lives of all those he loves hangs in the balance for one woman; a human woman who has been hurt deeply.
While the sparks fly between them and the passion they share engulfs them both, an ancient evil lurks in the dark and Nyx will have to fight to keep his people and Ivy safe.
However, evil doesn't always lurk in the darkest of places and betrayal hits the hardest when it's the one you know.
READ IT NOW!
Ivy was afraid at first, but she could now see why Lorna loved it when Terrance picked her up on his Kawasaki. It was really exhilarating; almost like flying except she had to hold on or she’d fly right off. Nyx drove through town and down the old Route 44 before getting off and heading down some dirt roads. Everything was beautiful to Ivy! The statuesque trees with their green leaves and needles, the chestnut brown earth, the green foliage that littered the ground, and the way the sun streamed through the canopy of leaves. Nyx pulled the bike to a halt in front of an old covered bridge. He got off the bike and helped Ivy off as well. When they removed their helmets he led her over towards the bridge.
“This is the old Thatcher’s Bridge. It’s one of the oldest I’ve been told in the whole U.S. of A. My father...er grandfather helped build the bridge.” He explained with a bit of pride.
The old Thatcher Bridge was raggedy, but there was something really beautiful about it. It was like when one looked at a work of art that didn’t really look like it was anything until you took the time to stand back and really see it. The bridge looked as if at one time it might have been red and the wooden shingled roofing had all but either worn away with time or met with some sort of natural catastrophe. She peered in and could see beams of sunlight and dust motes sifting through the air.
“What happened to it?” she asked as she looked up at his face.
“Well, the bridge got old and there was a flood long ago. Something bad happened and well no one travels the bridge anymore. The elders at the Res as well as the town’s folk decided that the bridge would no longer be used. However, no one could bear to tear it down. So here it sits. I’ve been dying to be able to fix it up. I know that sounds kind of dull, huh?”
“No, no it doesn’t. It would be beautiful again with just some new boards, shingles, and some paint. What terrible thing happened?” Ivy was curious now. It really impressed her that he’d want to take on such a project, and take it on for such selfless reasons.
Nyx was a little uncomfortable. The story of the Thatcher Bridge was a sad one that not a lot of people spoke of. He cleared his throat and began the tale.
“Well, the bridge had been in operation for about ten years or so. It was how the people from town could get to the Res. The bridge had been a symbol of good faith and good relations between the ‘white man’ and the ‘red man’. This was back when both the town and the Res flourished with goodness. You know, even though there was all this goodwill there were still prejudices. The mayor at the time had a daughter. That daughter had been seeing an Indian boy much to her father’s displeasure. They would meet at this bridge and see each other. One night during a storm, the Mayor had discovered that his only daughter was with child. He threw her out and since there weren’t any phone lines at the Res at the time, she couldn’t very well call her lover. So she got in her father’s old pickup and headed for the Res.
The new road to the Res hadn’t been built yet so she had to cross the bridge. The storm was raging, the water was rising and that creek there was starting to flood. The car stalled on the bridge. The water was rising and well to make a long story short that great big hole, there…” he motioned to where one wall of the bridge had a huge gaping hole in it, “her truck with her in it was overtaken by water. They found her four days later, drowned. The Indian boy later found out why she had been on the bridge and in his despair, he hung himself. It was a really sad time; a horrible time. Ever since the bridge has been closed and never repaired. It sits as it is now, like a grave marker.” Nyx said sadly.
Ivy’s heart clenched in her chest at his story. It was truly awful what had happened.
“Nyx, I’m so sorry! That is such a sad story.” Ivy said as her voice broke.
Nyx looked over at her, and put an arm around her as he started to see a small tear streak down her face. His lips touched her forehead. It felt so right that she was in his arms and he couldn’t ignore it!
“I’m sorry I brought you here. I just wanted you to see it, but I shouldn’t have. It’s why I want to repair the bridge and make it something as it once was; beautiful!” he admitted.
“No, I’m glad you brought me here! It really is beautiful set amongst the trees and I bet you’ll make it even lovelier than it was before. It shouldn’t be a reminder of tragedy. God knows there are enough tragic reminders around without this being one of them.” she replied softly.
Nyx smiled but couldn’t help but feel the ache in her voice. Lorna’s word’s played in his head, “When it comes to suffering, she’s no stranger to it.”
“Ivy, what tragic reminders do you have?” he asked without really thinking. He wanted to recant his words but couldn’t.
Ivy’s eyes grew even sadder and he could sense she was retreating into herself.
“I, I don’t really like talking about it. They’re n-not important.” She stammered as she stepped out of his arms.
“This is the old Thatcher’s Bridge. It’s one of the oldest I’ve been told in the whole U.S. of A. My father...er grandfather helped build the bridge.” He explained with a bit of pride.
The old Thatcher Bridge was raggedy, but there was something really beautiful about it. It was like when one looked at a work of art that didn’t really look like it was anything until you took the time to stand back and really see it. The bridge looked as if at one time it might have been red and the wooden shingled roofing had all but either worn away with time or met with some sort of natural catastrophe. She peered in and could see beams of sunlight and dust motes sifting through the air.
“What happened to it?” she asked as she looked up at his face.
“Well, the bridge got old and there was a flood long ago. Something bad happened and well no one travels the bridge anymore. The elders at the Res as well as the town’s folk decided that the bridge would no longer be used. However, no one could bear to tear it down. So here it sits. I’ve been dying to be able to fix it up. I know that sounds kind of dull, huh?”
“No, no it doesn’t. It would be beautiful again with just some new boards, shingles, and some paint. What terrible thing happened?” Ivy was curious now. It really impressed her that he’d want to take on such a project, and take it on for such selfless reasons.
Nyx was a little uncomfortable. The story of the Thatcher Bridge was a sad one that not a lot of people spoke of. He cleared his throat and began the tale.
“Well, the bridge had been in operation for about ten years or so. It was how the people from town could get to the Res. The bridge had been a symbol of good faith and good relations between the ‘white man’ and the ‘red man’. This was back when both the town and the Res flourished with goodness. You know, even though there was all this goodwill there were still prejudices. The mayor at the time had a daughter. That daughter had been seeing an Indian boy much to her father’s displeasure. They would meet at this bridge and see each other. One night during a storm, the Mayor had discovered that his only daughter was with child. He threw her out and since there weren’t any phone lines at the Res at the time, she couldn’t very well call her lover. So she got in her father’s old pickup and headed for the Res.
The new road to the Res hadn’t been built yet so she had to cross the bridge. The storm was raging, the water was rising and that creek there was starting to flood. The car stalled on the bridge. The water was rising and well to make a long story short that great big hole, there…” he motioned to where one wall of the bridge had a huge gaping hole in it, “her truck with her in it was overtaken by water. They found her four days later, drowned. The Indian boy later found out why she had been on the bridge and in his despair, he hung himself. It was a really sad time; a horrible time. Ever since the bridge has been closed and never repaired. It sits as it is now, like a grave marker.” Nyx said sadly.
Ivy’s heart clenched in her chest at his story. It was truly awful what had happened.
“Nyx, I’m so sorry! That is such a sad story.” Ivy said as her voice broke.
Nyx looked over at her, and put an arm around her as he started to see a small tear streak down her face. His lips touched her forehead. It felt so right that she was in his arms and he couldn’t ignore it!
“I’m sorry I brought you here. I just wanted you to see it, but I shouldn’t have. It’s why I want to repair the bridge and make it something as it once was; beautiful!” he admitted.
“No, I’m glad you brought me here! It really is beautiful set amongst the trees and I bet you’ll make it even lovelier than it was before. It shouldn’t be a reminder of tragedy. God knows there are enough tragic reminders around without this being one of them.” she replied softly.
Nyx smiled but couldn’t help but feel the ache in her voice. Lorna’s word’s played in his head, “When it comes to suffering, she’s no stranger to it.”
“Ivy, what tragic reminders do you have?” he asked without really thinking. He wanted to recant his words but couldn’t.
Ivy’s eyes grew even sadder and he could sense she was retreating into herself.
“I, I don’t really like talking about it. They’re n-not important.” She stammered as she stepped out of his arms.
“You know, you can talk to me if you need to! I mean I don’t want to intrude but no matter what it is that bothers you, you can talk to me if you want.” he offered.
She gave him a half smile that didn’t reach her eyes as she turned to look down at the creek with its bubbling stream flowing along. Nyx decided to drop the subject. The last thing he wanted to do was be pushy. He just hoped she’d learn to trust him. Whatever it was, he didn’t care; he only wanted to help her if he could. Nyx cared about her even though he knew he shouldn’t.
“Come on, I have someone I want you to meet!” he said as he led her back to the bike.
Ivy hoisted herself on the back of bike and wrapped her arms around Nyx wondering where they were going next but not caring as long as she was with him now. Nyx started up the bike and again they were off. They headed on down the dirt path beyond the bridge. They came back up onto the main road and he headed east on it. The sun was just starting to make the sky look peachy-pink, but there was some blue in it still. Nyx pulled off onto another dirt road that looked more like an old service road. At the end of the road was a small drive way. Nyx stopped in front of a small house. It looked more like a log cabin out of an Outdoor magazine. There was a middle-aged woman rocking in a chair snapping green beans into a terracotta bowl. She looked up and smiled as she waved at Nyx.
Nyx helped Ivy off the bike and led her towards the front porch to where the woman was now standing. “Margaret, this is a friend of mine, Ivy Morgan.” He greeted. Ivy stepped to the side of Nyx and shook the woman’s hand. She smiled warmly at both Ivy and Nyx.
“Margaret White Elk has lived here her whole life, Ivy. She’s a good friend to my family, and well just about everyone else! She doesn’t say too much, but Margaret is one of the finest women I know and she makes the best fry bread!” Nyx whispered.
Margaret made a gesture with her hands and smiled. Ivy guessed that Margaret must be deaf, and wished she knew sign language. However, Nyx seemed to be communicating pretty good with her. Inside the woman’s small house was an iron stove, dried fruit and herbs hanging from the ceiling on a rack, a modest counter top and sink combo, a small Frigidaire, and cabinets with see through panes that showed her dry goods and dishes. On the oak looking table, there were bowls of fruits and nuts along with a few fat candles. Everything looked homey and neat. Woven rugs were placed strategically and decoratively. On the walls were pictures in heirloom frames and beautiful paintings. Ivy would have bet her next pay check that she had painted them herself. A few of them were nature landscapes and animals, but there were four that really looked like abstract art pieces. The colors were vibrant and every detail had been included. She could have sworn that if she had touched the painting of a trio of bear cubs that she would have felt a fuzzy face instead of a canvas with paint.
Margaret went straight to a cabinet and took out three glasses that she filled with tea. All the colors from the wooden floor to the furniture were all bright earth tones. The cabin seemed just as cozy as the woman in front of her. Margaret took out a covered bowl and set it on the table. It was fry bread. Nyx took a piece and broke it in half. He gave a piece to Ivy. She took a nibble and then a bigger bite. Nyx hadn’t lied; this was good stuff! Margaret made some more gestures that were probably American Sign Language. Nyx laughed and nodded.
Ivy was through her half of bread when Nyx handed her another piece. Margaret laughed. Ivy felt her face flush with embarrassment. Nyx patted her hand. “Don’t worry; you are giving her quite a compliment by eating her fry bread! Margaret can hear if you speak to her; she just can’t speak.” He explained.
“Thank you for welcoming me to your home and thank you for the bread! I’ve never had anything like it before and it’s delicious!” Ivy smiled at Margaret who smiled back and clapped her hands.
Margaret signed something and Ivy watched Nyx shake his head “no” and then she signed something else and Ivy didn’t miss the wink he gave her.
After about an hour and a short walk around back so Margaret could show Ivy her garden; Ivy and Nyx were back on the bike heading towards town. Ivy pointed out where she lived with Lorna. It was dark by the time they reached the house. They stood for a span of moments that seemed like eternity as they stared at one another.
“You should probably go in, Ivy. I really liked spending time with you today and I know Margaret liked having you around!” he said next to her ear.
Ivy didn’t want him to go. “I liked spending time with you too! Margaret is really nice, but was she born mute?”
Nyx’s eyes shadowed at that moment. His face looked pained.
“No, no she was married once. Her bastard husband beat on her. He was an alcoholic and he tried to strangle her. He crushed her voice box. Before, she met and married him; she had one of the most beautiful singing voices on the Res! Margaret’s husband died while coming home from a bar one night. He had been drinking and started a fight with the wrong guy. The guy tried to keep from fighting him, but the drunken asshole pulled a knife and the guy while trying to wrestle the thing away accidently ended up stabbing him.” he sighed and looked away.
“Margaret must have really loved the bastard though because she never again married.” Nyx knew a little more details but he was going to spare Ivy the play by play.
Ivy bowed her head. She knew all about how volatile men whether they were drunk or not could turn. It gave her shivers.
“She seems to really like you though; your visits must be a comfort to her.” Ivy whispered.
Nyx raked a hand through his hair, thinking to himself; once again he’d said something that had pained her, “Yeah. She is a very good friend to my mother. My mother always took care of Margaret as a child and then when she’d been hurt by her husband. I was little and Margaret walked over fifty miles in the snows of winter when we were all very sick. It was so bad that no one from the Res or town could come, but Margaret did. It’s ironic, Margaret is a healer among my people and hers yet she couldn’t heal herself.” He looked at Ivy and knew that he had totally killed the mood. He cursed himself.
“Hey, enough about Margaret though. I really liked spending time with you and I would like to see you again, how about tomorrow?”
Ivy shook her head, “I can’t. I have to work a double tomorrow. I won’t get off until after seven.”
Nyx just smiled, “Hey, I don’t mind as long as I could see you! If nothing else, I could give you a ride home!” He found himself hoping that she’d say yes, but he wanted to see her smile.
Ivy thought about it and gave him a half smile, “Okay. I work down at Grady’s Café. I get off at seven.”
Nyx took his hand and placed it slowly and gently on her cheek as he leaned in slowly and barely touched his lips to hers. Ivy knew she should bolt but the man drew her in like a magnet! For a moment she was lost in the sensation of his kiss. In a lot of ways, it was her very first kiss!
When she parted her lips ever so slightly, Nyx deepened the kiss. Immediately heat flushed her whole body and she became a live wire. He rested his hands on her either side of her face as he kissed her. Never had she ever been kissed like this before. She’d always felt cold and inhuman when Papa Paul had touched her. She didn’t feel that way with Nyx. Suddenly she became all too aware of her body’s reaction and she withdrew.
Nyx knew that something had turned her off but he just smiled and gave her the space she needed. He wished he knew what it was or rather who had hurt her. Nyx didn’t press for details; he just hoped she’d open up about it.
She gave him a half smile that didn’t reach her eyes as she turned to look down at the creek with its bubbling stream flowing along. Nyx decided to drop the subject. The last thing he wanted to do was be pushy. He just hoped she’d learn to trust him. Whatever it was, he didn’t care; he only wanted to help her if he could. Nyx cared about her even though he knew he shouldn’t.
“Come on, I have someone I want you to meet!” he said as he led her back to the bike.
Ivy hoisted herself on the back of bike and wrapped her arms around Nyx wondering where they were going next but not caring as long as she was with him now. Nyx started up the bike and again they were off. They headed on down the dirt path beyond the bridge. They came back up onto the main road and he headed east on it. The sun was just starting to make the sky look peachy-pink, but there was some blue in it still. Nyx pulled off onto another dirt road that looked more like an old service road. At the end of the road was a small drive way. Nyx stopped in front of a small house. It looked more like a log cabin out of an Outdoor magazine. There was a middle-aged woman rocking in a chair snapping green beans into a terracotta bowl. She looked up and smiled as she waved at Nyx.
Nyx helped Ivy off the bike and led her towards the front porch to where the woman was now standing. “Margaret, this is a friend of mine, Ivy Morgan.” He greeted. Ivy stepped to the side of Nyx and shook the woman’s hand. She smiled warmly at both Ivy and Nyx.
“Margaret White Elk has lived here her whole life, Ivy. She’s a good friend to my family, and well just about everyone else! She doesn’t say too much, but Margaret is one of the finest women I know and she makes the best fry bread!” Nyx whispered.
Margaret made a gesture with her hands and smiled. Ivy guessed that Margaret must be deaf, and wished she knew sign language. However, Nyx seemed to be communicating pretty good with her. Inside the woman’s small house was an iron stove, dried fruit and herbs hanging from the ceiling on a rack, a modest counter top and sink combo, a small Frigidaire, and cabinets with see through panes that showed her dry goods and dishes. On the oak looking table, there were bowls of fruits and nuts along with a few fat candles. Everything looked homey and neat. Woven rugs were placed strategically and decoratively. On the walls were pictures in heirloom frames and beautiful paintings. Ivy would have bet her next pay check that she had painted them herself. A few of them were nature landscapes and animals, but there were four that really looked like abstract art pieces. The colors were vibrant and every detail had been included. She could have sworn that if she had touched the painting of a trio of bear cubs that she would have felt a fuzzy face instead of a canvas with paint.
Margaret went straight to a cabinet and took out three glasses that she filled with tea. All the colors from the wooden floor to the furniture were all bright earth tones. The cabin seemed just as cozy as the woman in front of her. Margaret took out a covered bowl and set it on the table. It was fry bread. Nyx took a piece and broke it in half. He gave a piece to Ivy. She took a nibble and then a bigger bite. Nyx hadn’t lied; this was good stuff! Margaret made some more gestures that were probably American Sign Language. Nyx laughed and nodded.
Ivy was through her half of bread when Nyx handed her another piece. Margaret laughed. Ivy felt her face flush with embarrassment. Nyx patted her hand. “Don’t worry; you are giving her quite a compliment by eating her fry bread! Margaret can hear if you speak to her; she just can’t speak.” He explained.
“Thank you for welcoming me to your home and thank you for the bread! I’ve never had anything like it before and it’s delicious!” Ivy smiled at Margaret who smiled back and clapped her hands.
Margaret signed something and Ivy watched Nyx shake his head “no” and then she signed something else and Ivy didn’t miss the wink he gave her.
After about an hour and a short walk around back so Margaret could show Ivy her garden; Ivy and Nyx were back on the bike heading towards town. Ivy pointed out where she lived with Lorna. It was dark by the time they reached the house. They stood for a span of moments that seemed like eternity as they stared at one another.
“You should probably go in, Ivy. I really liked spending time with you today and I know Margaret liked having you around!” he said next to her ear.
Ivy didn’t want him to go. “I liked spending time with you too! Margaret is really nice, but was she born mute?”
Nyx’s eyes shadowed at that moment. His face looked pained.
“No, no she was married once. Her bastard husband beat on her. He was an alcoholic and he tried to strangle her. He crushed her voice box. Before, she met and married him; she had one of the most beautiful singing voices on the Res! Margaret’s husband died while coming home from a bar one night. He had been drinking and started a fight with the wrong guy. The guy tried to keep from fighting him, but the drunken asshole pulled a knife and the guy while trying to wrestle the thing away accidently ended up stabbing him.” he sighed and looked away.
“Margaret must have really loved the bastard though because she never again married.” Nyx knew a little more details but he was going to spare Ivy the play by play.
Ivy bowed her head. She knew all about how volatile men whether they were drunk or not could turn. It gave her shivers.
“She seems to really like you though; your visits must be a comfort to her.” Ivy whispered.
Nyx raked a hand through his hair, thinking to himself; once again he’d said something that had pained her, “Yeah. She is a very good friend to my mother. My mother always took care of Margaret as a child and then when she’d been hurt by her husband. I was little and Margaret walked over fifty miles in the snows of winter when we were all very sick. It was so bad that no one from the Res or town could come, but Margaret did. It’s ironic, Margaret is a healer among my people and hers yet she couldn’t heal herself.” He looked at Ivy and knew that he had totally killed the mood. He cursed himself.
“Hey, enough about Margaret though. I really liked spending time with you and I would like to see you again, how about tomorrow?”
Ivy shook her head, “I can’t. I have to work a double tomorrow. I won’t get off until after seven.”
Nyx just smiled, “Hey, I don’t mind as long as I could see you! If nothing else, I could give you a ride home!” He found himself hoping that she’d say yes, but he wanted to see her smile.
Ivy thought about it and gave him a half smile, “Okay. I work down at Grady’s Café. I get off at seven.”
Nyx took his hand and placed it slowly and gently on her cheek as he leaned in slowly and barely touched his lips to hers. Ivy knew she should bolt but the man drew her in like a magnet! For a moment she was lost in the sensation of his kiss. In a lot of ways, it was her very first kiss!
When she parted her lips ever so slightly, Nyx deepened the kiss. Immediately heat flushed her whole body and she became a live wire. He rested his hands on her either side of her face as he kissed her. Never had she ever been kissed like this before. She’d always felt cold and inhuman when Papa Paul had touched her. She didn’t feel that way with Nyx. Suddenly she became all too aware of her body’s reaction and she withdrew.
Nyx knew that something had turned her off but he just smiled and gave her the space she needed. He wished he knew what it was or rather who had hurt her. Nyx didn’t press for details; he just hoped she’d open up about it.
Ever since I was a child I have loved books and stories. I am a mother of two and have been married to my high school sweetheart for twenty years. I have been a long time fan of horror, fantasy, and Science fiction genres since I was a kid.
My dream is to be able to create stories that make you, the reader feel as if you are apart of that world and where your senses come alive. Writing paranormal romance gives me the vehicle so that I can write for my favorite bad boys (whether they come with fang or claw) and give them HEA's that aren't damsels in distress but women who we all can relate to.
COMING SOON!
SAVAGE DAWN
Lahni Wahpeton has returned to help her family but this "Wild Child" isn't about to be mated to the one person on the planet she'd rather neuter than mate.
Shiloh Red Cloud, the proud and fierce clan chief is at his wits end with his mate. She may not want him, but he's tired of waiting for her.
It's going to be bloody, but can these two overcome the heartache and stand united against a past that is filled with blood and death?
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