Night's Beauty (The Valkyrie's Passion Prologue): A Valkyrie/Shifter Romance

  Night's Beauty

  (A Valkyrie/Shifter Romance)

  The Valkyrie's Passion Prologue

  by

  Renee Jordan

  Copyright © 2015 by Renee Jordan

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the expressed written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Published in the United States of America, 2015

  All characters depicted in this work of fiction are over the age of eighteen (18).

  Cover Photo © Artgo-biz | prometeus | Depositphotos.com

  Cover Art created by Madison Silver

  Naughty Ladies Publications

  www.NaughtyLadiesPublications.com

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  Table of Contents

  Night's Beauty

  Sultry Excerpt from “Night's Beauty”

  Other Steamy Romances

  Night's Beauty

  Hot Preview of “Love's Choice”

  Other Romances by Renee Jordan

  About Renee Jordan

  Sultry Excerpt from “Night's Beauty”

  I was almost sad when the bike's engine cut off. My legs shook as I dismounted. Magnus seized me, pulling me to him. He stared into my eyes, studying me. I shivered, holding him tight. I knew this was wrong. I knew I would regret this. But I had to have him tonight. One night of passion.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Making sure this is what you want.”

  “Is it?” I asked, rubbing harder against him.

  “You've wanted it since you laid eyes on me...” He arched his eyebrows, inviting me to supply a name.

  “I'm Raven.”

  “A magnificent bird,” he answered and kissed me.

  Everything vanished except Magnus. There was no parking lot. There was no cold wind. There was no seedy motel. There was only the wolfish biker's arms wrapped about my body, holding me tight. His body was so hard against my soft curves. His hand slid down and squeezed my ass. I moaned as he kneaded me, pulling me harder against his bulge.

  I never wanted the kiss to end. My heart thudded in my chest. No kiss had ever made the world spin about me. I clung to him. I was afraid if I let go I would drown in our passion. My arms tightened about his neck.

  When he broke the kiss, I realized he was taller than me. Over six feet. I liked it. It was nice to look up into a man's strong, passionate face. “You are all mine for the night.”

  “Yes,” I moaned.

  He leaned down and scooped me up, throwing me over his shoulder. I giggled as my hair fell down around my face. I squirmed, playfully trying to escape. But my biker warrior had captured me and was carrying me off.

  “What are you going to do to me?” I moaned.

  “Enjoy you.” His hand slid up beneath my skirt to pat my ass through my satin panties.

  “Yes,” I moaned. “Ravish me.” I closed my eyes, picturing him in Viking furs and carrying me back to his longboat. I was his plunder tonight. He vanquished Talon and had claimed me.

  I squeezed my thighs together as the liquid heat burned hotter inside me.

  To find out what happens next, read on!

  Other Steamy Romances

  Howling Passion (Passion Moon 1)

  Passion's Fire (Passion Moon 2)

  Love's Protection (Passion Moon 3)

  Feathery Discipline (Curvy Maids 1)

  Love's Leash (Curvy Maids 2)

  Lacy Bonds (Curvy Maids 3)

  Night's Beauty

  The blind god took the javelin of mistletoe from the stranger. “Feel the runes on it,” the stranger whispered. Hother couldn't tell if the speaker was a man or a woman. There was an effeminate cadence to the stranger's voice.

  The blind god ran his fingers up and down the javelin's shaft, brushing the angular, Norse runes carved into the haft: flaugun. Flight. Hother grinned, nodding his head. “Yes. I can be a warrior again. But upon what should I test it?”

  “Why, your impervious brother, Baldur,” the stranger laughed. “Nothing of Midgard can harm your brother's flesh.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Raven

  “Thanks for coming, Raven,” Haleigh, my best friend, smiled as she gave me a hug.

  We stood in the dark driveway of her boyfriend's house in the foothills outside Covington, Washington. It wasn't too long of a drive from Seattle, though Friday rush hour traffic had tied me up. But it was worth it to see Haleigh. Since she left Seattle to move in with Kris—her lumberjack boyfriend—last month, we had seen little of each other.

  It was a bummer, but Kris was a great guy and Haleigh was so happy. So, of course, I was happy. And a little jealous. Kris was a hunk. Tall, broad-shouldered, and chiseled chin. Wielding an ax for his day job had put solid muscles on his frame. And he was kind. Definitely better than the self-absorbed hipsters that lived in Seattle.

  “It was nice seeing you again, Raven,” Kris nodded. He stood a few feet away.

  “Thanks for having me over. It was a lovely dinner.” And it was. Haleigh was an amazing cook, and Kris was full of interesting, and sometimes horrifying, tales about his life logging in the Pacific Northwest. He kept everyone entertained.

  I was the last guest to leave. I stayed behind to help my friend clean up the mess, and to let the few beers I drank clear my system. I wanted to be clear-headed for the long drive home.

  I clutched my small, black purse to my stomach as Haleigh walked back to Kris. The big man put an arm about her slender frame. The floodlight mounted above the garage door made Haleigh's red hair seem to glow. She had such a wonderful hair color. Mine was black.

  How boring.

  I sometimes wondered if my parents named me Raven because that's how black my hair was. Just because I was fully Scandinavian didn't mean I had the golden-blonde hair we were famous for. I had the blue eyes, the height, and the strong cheekbones of a fierce, Swedish warrior-maid. My mom was the same. Whenever I thought about her, dead for nearly sixteen years, I pictured her as a warrior-woman, a Valkyrie watching down at me with my dad at her side.

  He had been a logger, too, now that I thought about it.

  A bear had killed them when I was five. We lived in a pretty remote house. Well, it was more of a cabin. The woods came right up to our backyard. I remembered little about the attack. The authorities said I witnessed it, but there was a hole in my mind. I remember being happy with mom and dad one moment, and then I remember the park ranger wrapping the blanket around my neck and wiping away the blood.

  “Good night,” I waved, trying to banish those morbid thoughts. Seeing Kris stirred up memories of my dad.

  I had dressed-up for the party, shedding my usual blue jeans and cute sweaters for a classy, black cocktail dress with spaghetti straps that left my shoulders bare to the cold, foggy night air. My heels clicked as I walked down the driveway to my car. It was a cheap Honda I got for a steal. My boss, Freddy, sold it to me for a measly $500 last year. It was a stocky, dependable car.

  “Drive safe,” Haleigh waved as I opened my driver door.

  “I will.”

  I sank into my car and started it up. The dashboard clock read 12:15 PM. I yawned as I put the car into reverse. I had at l
east an hour drive back to Seattle. On the positive side, there wouldn't be any traffic on the return trip.

  Kris had a long driveway surrounded by dark woods. But it was also wide; I performed a three-point turn so I didn't have to back the entire way down it. The driveway twisted down a hill, the house disappearing out of sight and plunging me into darkness. The fog rolled out of the surrounding woods in thick billows, illuminated white by my headlights.

  I almost missed where the road started. I hit my breaks, my heart hammering. I quickly looked to the right and left. There was no traffic. I sighed in relief and made the turn onto the road. It wasn't much wider than Kris's driveway and wound down the mountain to Highway 516 that would take me to Covington and beyond.

  I cranked up the music, listening to thudding R&B to keep me awake on the long drive back home. My phone, cradled in a mount on my dashboard, warned me that Highway 516 was one mile away and I had to make a left turn.

  A few cars were traveling down the two lane highway. I yawned again, shifting in my seat, my fingers tapping the steering wheel to a Rhianna song. Lights drifted through the fog ahead as I neared the outskirts of Covington. The fog grew thicker, forcing me to slow down. A sea of white billowed before me, glowing as the mist reflected back my headlights.

  A new light blossomed suddenly to my right. I blinked as a man glowing with an aura of pure, white light dashed in front of my car. I slammed on the brakes, my heart thudding in my chest. In the moment before my car struck him, I witnessed a broad-shouldered man, a thick, blond beard covering a strong chin. He was dressed in furs and clutched at a thin piece of wood thrust through his chest.

  I hit him.

  Or I should have. My car passed right through his glowing body. Light blazed inside my car as my engine died. Energy touched me. I shuddered as I was engulfed by white, and then darkness crashed down upon me.

  ~ ~ ~

  The child played happily on the deck of the cabin. Her parents were laughing in the grassy meadow surrounded by dark trees. The mother was tall and beautiful, her black hair braided and flowing behind her as she swung her sword. The father parried with a battle ax, his strong arms rippling. The child was too absorbed in her dolls to pay attention.

  Her parents had sparred many times before.

  It was the snarl of the huge, gray wolf bursting out of the trees that drew the child's attention from her dolls. The wolf stood taller than a horse or even an elephant and was covered in coarse fur. Baleful, crimson eyes fixed on the mother and the father. The wolf howled with bloodlust as it charged.

  The child trembled in fear.

  The mother glowed with sliver light and was clad in shining armor, a winged helm covering her raven-black hair. The father snarled like a wolf, leaping forward and swinging his battle ax at the giant beast as black fur sprouted from the father's body. The father fought with a reckless, berserker fury as he became a beast himself while the mother danced about the flanks of the giant wolf.

  Every time the giant wolf growled, a foul, black breath rolled out, a poisonous fume that killed the wildflowers. The mother and the father fought valiantly, leaving bloody wounds on the giant wolf's hide. But nothing seemed to stop the wolf. The wolf didn't feel pain.

  The father fell first. A massive paw struck his furry stomach, ripping him open. The child screamed in grief and terror. The mother fell moments later as she lunged her blazing sword at the beast's flank. The wolf turned, and its snapping jaws crushed the mother's body.

  Splattered with blood, the wolf snarled at the child.

  The child trembled in fear, but ravens screamed and the wolf grew tense. Hooves thundered. A man rode up astride an eight-legged horse, a raven perched on each shoulder. The child sobbed her grief, staring at her dead parents as the man drove the wolf off.

  The man had a patch over his left eye. He moved to the child. “It is not the time for you to remember this, Valkyrie's daughter.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Raven

  “Mommy,” I whispered as I came to. The dream faded. It always did. I tried to clutch onto the memory of the beast that killed my parents, but it poured out between my fingers. It was like trying to clutch water.

  I shook my head. I was groggy. I tried to sit up, but my seat belt was wrapped across my torso. I was in my car. Fog billowed around in the darkness. My car was on the gravel shoulder of the highway. Ahead of me, a bar lit up the foggy night.

  “What happened?” I muttered, shaking my head. There had been a figure— “Oh, no.”

  I fumbled with my seat belt and climbed out of my car, looking around for the glowing man I hit. I frowned. That couldn't be right. Men didn't glow. I didn't see anything on the highway. My heels clicked on the wet asphalt as I walked down the road.

  Nothing.

  I frowned and headed back to my car. I examined the front end. I didn't notice any damage to the body or blood spattered on the hood. Did I actually hit anything? Right before I blacked out, I had the strange idea that the man had passed through my car. But that would be impossible.

  Not sure what else to do, I walked back to my car and tried to start it. Nothing happened. Not even the dome light came on when I opened my door. My car was completely dead.

  “Great,” I muttered. I grabbed my phone off the holder and swiped the screen.

  The screen didn't light up.

  How was that possible? It was plugged into my car charger. It should have a full battery. I held the on button. The phone didn't turn on. What was happening? I glanced at the watch on my left wrist. The second hand was frozen in place.

  Even my watch was dead.

  I put my phone in my purse and climbed out of the car. I glanced around at the foggy night and then looked at the bar. A line of motorcycles were parked out front. I didn't want to go in there, but I didn't think I had much choice.

  I walked along the side of the highway through the fog, shivering in the cold. I should have brought a jacket. It had been such a nice, April day, I didn't think about how cold it would be at night.

  As I puzzled over what had happened, a motorcycle roared behind me. I threw a look over my shoulder as the bike slowed and came to a stop beside me, the engine chugging and roaring. A large man sat upon it, his blond hair falling long and wild about his broad shoulders. His blue eyes flashed in the light from the bar as he looked at me, a slight grin curling his strong lips. He wore a leather vest that left a muscular chest and thick arms bare.

  A flush of heat and fear went through me. This man was dangerous. A tattoo of a black, howling wolf's head was on his upper, right arm, and I could just make out what looked like a dragon on his chest. The back of his vest was covered in patches, dominated by another black wolf howling at the moon. His patches declared him to be a member of the Black Wolves Motorcycle Club, a founder and President of the Wolf Council, a hunter, and a 1%.

  Definitely dangerous.

  “Car trouble?” he asked, his eyes raking over me.

  I didn't like at all how my nipples hardened when he did that.

  “I'm fine,” I said, glancing at the bar. It may look like a dive, but at least there would be people in there. A lot of them. His gaze was hungry. I felt so naked in my cocktail dress. “Just need to use the bar's phone.”

  “You can use mine.” He revved his motorcycle. “Or I can give you a lift.”

  “Thank you,” I said, trying to keep my teeth from chattering. I drew myself up to my full, nearly six-feet height. I couldn't show fear. “But I'm fine.”

  I backed away, my palms clammy as I clutched my purse.

  “Yes, you are,” he nodded.

  Why was his bold flirting working? Was it his confidence? Many men were intimidated by a taller woman, especially if she was beautiful. But not this biker.

  “I wouldn't go in there,” he added as I kept walking away. “They'll eat you up in there.”

  “And you won't eat me up if I stay out here, wolf?” I asked.

  “When I eat you up, you'll love every sec
ond of it.”

  “When?” I arched an eyebrow. I reached the bar's parking lot. I turned, walking faster. “That's a little bold. I don't date bikers.”

  “I can change your mind. Come for a ride with me.”

  I walked faster. I was half-afraid I would. And that would be a terrible mistake. I was a good girl. And a good girl shouldn't get involved with an outlaw biker. I ignored the desire pounding in my veins. That biker was gorgeous. And here I thought Kris was a stud.

  I pushed through the doors into the bar. I was assaulted by rock music. Grinding, ear-splitting, headache-inducing metal roared through the bar. It was a biker bar, full of men wearing blue jeans and leather chaps with skanky women hanging on their arms. Some played pool in the back while others sat around tables drinking beer. Each man was dangerous.

  Maybe this wasn't a good idea.

  I couldn't show fear. I needed to be strong and confident. Like my mother.

  I marched up to the bar where a stout woman nodded at me. She had a ruddy face and her brown hair cut into a butch style. Her arms were thick and muscled, covered in tattoos. A black spike pierced through her lower lip and more piercings studded her eyebrows.

  “You look lost, honey,” she smiled at me. Her voice was surprisingly sweet and feminine.

  “My car broke down. Can I use your phone to make a call?”

  Before the bartender could answer, a man reeking of cigarettes and sour beer put his arm around my shoulders. “Well, well, where did you wander on in from, Sugarbuns?”

  Sugarbuns?

  The biker had wild, brown hair falling in a tangled mess around his shoulders and a thick beard, spotted with gray, engulfed his face. A white scar ran across half his neck. I shuddered as he leered at me, his arm tightening about my shoulders.

  “She's just using the phone, Talon,” the bartender said.

  “Yes,” I nodded, shaking my head. I was as tall as Talon, and I fixed him a fierce stare. “So if you'll excuse me.”