Haulcon's Revenge

By Yvette Hines

USA Today Bestselling author Yvette Hines brings you a dark paranormal romance...

Haulcon has been left to die—without pride or honor. The clan he believed was family, brethren to him, turned out to be vicious thieves. Thieves of life. Now revenge’s blood beats Haulcon’s heart and he will stop at nothing to see those who attempted his murder pay. Resolving the issue of his saving grace, Adair, is a distraction he can’t risk.

Adair Ellis is a wildlife photographer, an explorer of sorts. However, the day she meets Haulcon, her life becomes more of an adventure than she can handle. Everything changes for her when she is drawn into a world so dark and dangerous it seems to rob her of her very being. But, she can’t turn back and she can’t flee the valf that she has become bound to for life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Romance Management, Inc.
• Release date: Sep 15, 2015
• ISBN: 9781516383016

Yvette Hines

USA Today Bestselling Author, Emma Award winning "Author of the Year" 2013. I’m just Yvette Hines. An erotica author who loves pleasurable hours between the sheets, whether it is a blended tale of interracial lovers, the clandestine bite and wicked passion of a paranormal lover or the sting of a commanding whip against tender flesh. Even better, make my day and toss in two gorgeously decadent men who only want to pleasure their woman. Oooh, yeah, now we’re talking. I write erotica because I love it. I’m a Scorpio, so I’m sensual by nature and that just makes me naughty. I’ve been penning erotic tales, on the hedonistic side of romance genre, since 2007. I’m married to my best friend. A guy who makes me laugh ‘til I can’t breathe. A man who steals my breath every time he walks into a room. I enjoy long walks on the beach... Well, I do, but really I love meeting readers, going to conferences, writing with my fellow authors in a coffee shop, attending BDSM events and Christmas. What do I write? Short and Sexy, Sensual Erotica. Yup, that’s me, SASSE Yvette Hines.

Book preview

HAULCON’S REVENGE

A paranormal romance

––––––––

Yvette Hines

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission by the author.

Haulcon’s Revenge

Copyright © 2014, Yvette Hines

Cover Artist: Taria Reed

Editor: Bernadette Schane

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to eStore and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

DEDICATION

To my readers who amaze me all the time. From reviews, to postings about my books on your pages, to commenting on my stories and telling me how much you enjoyed them.

To my family and friends this year has been rough, crazy, stressful, but you all offered continued support and I thank you.

To my husband and best friend, life had thrown us for a loop we have heard the word cancer more times than we can count, but God has given us strength to make it through.

To Herman Goffigan, Jr. and La-Tonya Denise Dease who lost their lives to cancer this year, may God keep your souls in perfect peace.

Chapter One

Ahh! Haulcon’s scream ripped through the air vibrating the branches of the trees above him. He didn’t want to cry out. Had tried to fight it, but they pulled it out of him. Brought him this low.

He would be dead soon. He knew that. The breaths he took were counting down to his last. One of two things would kill him, either the silver seeping into his bloodstream and headed for his heart or the sunlight that would shine in a few hours.

Being a valf there weren’t many things that could end his life. However those that could were deadly, permanent. If he could shift into his wolfen form, he would be able to fight the silver poison. However they had made sure he would not be able to save himself. They had beaten and tied him spread-eagle in the middle of the woods, hands and feet to sturdy, thick oaks. The thick ropes bit deep into his wrists and ankles. If he even attempted to transform, the tight binding would snap his animal limbs at the joints. No wolf could tolerate being in such a position.

They hadn’t stopped there. Those silver-dipped blades they had used to pierce his sides allowed his blood to drain, even as the silver flowed into him. He needed to feed. Blood sustained his clan and their wolves gave them strength, made them powerful, undefeatable; except to their own kind. Those who plotted and planned subterfuge and attacks.

Now he lay in his own pool of blood, waste, and agony waiting for death to come for him. However, he was not fortunate enough for the valf-reaper to come quickly. No, they—his clansmen, his friends—had ensured the afterlife guide’s travel would be unhurried.

His clan, the men he’d grown, learned, and traveled with could have given him the honor of a single silver bullet to his chest. They could have notified his family to bathe his remains in holy water then burn him to ashes. They hadn’t wanted him to have pride in his death. No, he would be left drained and stiffened by the sun’s light. His carcass left for human scientists to discover and examine like a worthless specimen.

Holy Hell!

The voice could have been that of one of the valf Great Spirit’s angels. The relief at hearing it washed over him just the same.

His senses were deadening. When he was at full valf capacity he would have smelled a human getting close to him from miles away. Now, like a grotesque exhibit he lay prone as the female cringed before him.

Release me...

Ww-who did this to you? She stared upon his naked form, her face twisted in what he assumed was unexpected horror at the sight she beheld.

Release me... please. He’d never had to beg, barter or request assistance from a lesser being in more than three decades.  Yes, he had been brought low.

As if snapping out of a trance she raced to his side and dropped to her knees. Not touching him, she slipped her pack off her back and removed a bottle of water.

When she angled the bottle toward his mouth, he turned his head away. Water was not what he needed even though it would help stave off deaths arms once the sun rose in the sky, briefly.

You need to drink. You’re probably dehydrated. She demanded.

Release m-e, he growled, his voice sounded weak to his own ears. Yes, he was thirsted, but not for what she had in the bottle. He needed something more substantial. As long as he had been tied down he needed a lot of it. And what he needed he could smell—rich and pure, it seemed to permeate the humid air around him. The heady scent teased his senses and caused his parched mouth to salivate for the first time in hours. The cure that he needed was as close as his freedom, yet just as far away.

Taken aback by even the unsteady sound of his voice that vibrated the air, he saw the woman’s pupils dilate almost taking over the hazelnut color of her irises. She licked her lips. How did you get this way?

Lifting his head from the ground, he leaned toward her and tempered his tone as much as possible so as not to frighten her. I need you to untie me.

His head dropped back with a thump. He could feel more of his strength and energy draining from him as more rays of sunlight broke through the trees. Soon the beams would grow wider with the rising sun and would pull everything from him and he’d have his last breath.

I need to stop the bleeding first. You’ve lost so much blood. Rustling around in her pack again, she pulled out a plastic container.

He was sure that as a human she did not understand the true urgency of the situation.

She pressed one large gauze strip to the large cut in his side.

Hissing from the contact to the violently opened area, he whispered, Leave...the wounds.

If he got loose in enough time they would heal.

Finally, she scooted towards the restraint closest to her that held his arm. Her soft, nimble fingers tugged on the knot. The more she fought with it, the more frustrated she seemed to become. I can’t get it undone. She hustled to the base of the thick tree and jerked on the rope.

Her pulling jolted his body and sent fire through his weak form, but he ignored the pain as he pulled with her hoping to get the heavy cord to break.

Ahh... she screamed in frustration.

A knife...have you something sharp? he growled. So close to freedom yet it appeared it would be denied him. Heat was radiating around one of his feet. His right leg was in direct sunlight and he could feel the stiffening of his toes and ankle—atrophy was starting to set in.

No...nothi— her words broke away. Wait!

Wait. There was no time.

Crawling fast on her hands and knees, her movements kicked up a dust cloud around them. Once she got to her pack, she unzipped the front pocket and pulled out a blue survival utility set.

One of my editors bought me this as a joke for my last birthday, because I’m always in the woods. He mocks me with the name Pinkie the Survivalist. Thankfully as she rattled on with the random conversation, she flipped through the tools until she finally squealed with excitement. Here it is.

He cut his eyes toward her hand and saw the small two-inch blade. The urge to sigh with defeat assailed him. She probably would have had more success with the tweezers attachment of the device, plucking the threads of the rope apart compared to what the mini knife appeared to be able to accomplish.

I’m not sure if this will work. She lightly rested her hand on his chest as if trying to reassure him.

His heart leaped in his chest. As if springing to new life and reaching for her hand. The unexpected occurrence made him groan.

Mistaking his reason for groaning, she caressed the bare skin at the center of his chest. If it doesn’t I will have to go for help.

If it doesn’t...I will be dead. However, he kept those words to himself. Hur...ry, he pleaded as his eyes slid shut. Even the strength to keep his lids up seemed to tax him.

His entire right leg had now stiffened. Soon the sun would beat down on his entire body and cause his heart to stop. It shocked him that the thought of his heart not beating again didn’t cause him grief because he would cease to live but because he would never feel that powerful leap again. Something about his rescuing angel had caused it to happen. He wasn’t sure what. She wasn’t the first human female he had been in contact with. Hell for his kind, being around a human was necessary to sustain them—even though they chose for many reasons to live hidden and away from the mortal kind and made it a practice in the last five decades to only feed from animals.

The short choppy swaying of the rope and the harsh violent sound of her sawing at the tightly woven cords gave him something to focus on other than his deadening form.

Come on, come on, come on! She screamed vehemently.

He laid there, silent. There was nothing left for him to do. He couldn’t even muster up a thought of hope or prayer to the valf Great Spirit for deliverance.  Whatever was destined to happen would happen.

Aaaaah... She sawed, screamed and fought with the rope. Yes!

His eyes popped open when he felt the weight of his left arm hit the ground free. Tilting his head up so he could make eye contact with his savior, he noticed there were streaks of dusty tears lining her face.

Had she wept for me? No one had ever shed a single tear for him during his life. Even now, if reports returned to the pack complex that he was deceased he could picture many who would grieve for a moment, but none that would cry for the loss of his life. His parent’s, but that would be expected.

There was no time to waste on such thoughts, instead he urged the woman on. The other now.

Of course. Shuffling across the ground over the top of his head, she immediately attacked the next line with more vigor and force. As if she had learned a technique working on the first lead.

Excitement ran through his blood like fresh rain to a dry desert land. You can do it. He did the only thing he could do in his helpless state, offered encouragement.

The second side didn’t take as long as the first. As soon as he felt his arm make contact with the hard forest floor he snatched the blade from her and called upon inner strength that he had believed left him hours ago.

Sitting up, he whacked at the restraint holding his left leg, keeping himself out of the direct sunlight as long as possible.

Moving up beside him, the woman watched him with concern. Are you sure you don’t want me to do it? I doubt if you have enough—

Her words broke off after three chops and he was free.

There was only one part of his body that remained tethered to the tree. The limb that had begun to die. It would stay that way, if he didn’t replenish himself.

Tilting his head toward her, he closed his eyes and inhaled as he allowed the utility device to fall to the ground.

See I knew you should have let me do it, you’ve used up your last bit of strength.

She was wrong.

He could hear the rustling of her clothing as she moved in toward the last cord. But, in the last hour that she had been around him, he could think of nothing but the intoxicating scent that saturated the still air around him. She smelled sweet and spicy with a hint of musk from the sweat coating her skin from both her travels through the woods and her work at freeing him. It all combined into the most decadent of smells.

His hands flexed, tightening and releasing. Heat infused every cell of his body, not because of the morning sun that built in strength but because of her. This woman would be his savior in more ways than one.

Okay, you’re loose. Now let’s see about these woun—

Forgive me.

What?

Not allowing himself a moment to hesitate or reconsider he took hold of her by her neck, his fingers digging deep into the bones of her jaw. Lifting her with him, he rose. He pressed her back against the side of the tree where dawn’s shade still rested. He used more force than he would have ever used on a human female had he been in his right mind. However, it was impossible for his kind to maintain any level of clarity drained of blood and baking in the sun.

She was taller than he had realized having viewed her full frame from the forest floor. Her height allowed his body to align perfectly with hers as he leaned into her.

Ahh—

Her cry broke as he lowered his mouth to her throat and sank his teeth to her vein—pumping, pulsing...ready.

His grip spasmed and tightened more as the sweet elixir of her life source filled his mouth. Her thick, warm fluid coated his tongue. He consumed liquid fire with his first swallow.

That was the thought that entered his mind. The urge to pull away gnawed at the back of his brain. Something wasn’t right.

Yet, he couldn’t compel himself to move away from her, he drank again. Hunger took over. The burn was like alcohol to humans, the more he took in, the more he wanted. He was becoming intoxicated on her. It seared his throat while at the same time warming him from the inside out.

He began to crave not only her unique taste but also the burn of the sweet-tasting flame.

So good.

As he fed, his body became stronger. The sting and pain of the rope burns and cuts on him were nullified—he was healing.

One leg bore the weight of his body, while the other deadened limb remained uselessly leaning out away from him. But, now that he had fed and was out of the direct sunlight it would soon regenerate. Even now, he could feel a subtle tingling in his thigh. That sensation would continue to move downward until all strength had been restored.

Oh, yes, he was healing. As his body mended itself, he began to focus on other things like the sounds of the animals in the forest, the rough bite of the

Reviews for Haulcon's Revenge

[c4ro · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

Paranormal Romance. Haulcon is a valf and left to die, Adair is a wildlife photographer. Poor