Legend of the Feral 3: Passion's Roots (Siren Publishing LoveEdge) Read online

  Legend of the Feral 3: Passion’s Roots

  Kragen and Jaxon are on the hunt for their mate and there are no depths they won’t sink to in order to claim her and the hope of breaking the curse of the Dead Tree. Jezlin knows little of men and even less of passion, but she’s about to get an education in the depths of passion’s roots…and so are Kragen and Jaxon.

  The curse of the Dead Tree looms over Kragen and Jaxon. They’d be willing to do almost anything to find the cure, anything but give up Jezlin. That’s just what it might come down to as they've held that secret too close and for too long.

  There isn’t anything Jezlin won’t do for Kragen and Jaxon, even sacrificing herself for them. The roots of her passion go that deep. The only question remaining is whether they’ll be the death of her or the salvation.

  Genre: BDSM, Paranormal, Vampires/Werewolves

  Length: 44,258 words

  LEGEND OF THE FERAL 3:

  PASSION'S ROOTS

  Jenny Penn

  SIREN LOVEEDGE

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Siren LoveEdge

  LEGEND OF THE FERAL 3: PASSION'S ROOTS

  Copyright © 2015 by Jenny Penn

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-63259-682-6

  First E-book Publication: September 2015

  Cover design by Les Byerley

  All art and logo copyright © 2015 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

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  DEDICATION

  To Billy, for treating me like his princess.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  About the Author

  LEGEND OF THE FERAL 3:

  PASSION'S ROOTS

  JENNY PENN

  Copyright © 2015

  Prologue

  Kragen Jaris ducked the blow coming in for his head and bent his knee up. Grabbing his opponent’s arm, he jerked the younger boy forward and right up into the kick he aimed at the kid’s stomach. Down went the future alpha of the Morse pack.

  “You lack balance,” Kragen informed the kid as he towered over him.

  “And speed,” one of his own pack hollered out from the group gathered around to watch the training session.

  They were all snickering, as was their normal behavior whenever a boy they took in to train for the Master of Cerberus thought he was ready to take on one of the Shardars. Nobody defeated either Kragen or his twin, Jaxon. Not even the men in their own pack. That was how both brothers had earned the title of Shardar. They were the strongest, fastest, and most brutal of all the Jaris.

  That was saying something.

  Once, a long time ago before the curse had been laid down on them, the Jaris had been the fiercest fighters. They’d been created for war and had traveled from land to land seeking the next battle until their numbers had finally diminished. They’d killed themselves off, but it was the curse that kept them from breeding the next generation.

  Kragen and Jaxon had been children when the curse had been laid down. They’d grown up on the battlefields and watched the elders all die off until they’d been strong enough to take the reins of command and assume the title of Shardar themselves. Though unlike the ones that had come before them, they hadn’t led their men into war.

  They couldn’t afford to. There weren’t enough men left. So now they were benched, with no use left but to train the generations of werewolves to take up the battle. As far as Kragen could tell, the world was doomed.

  “I wouldn’t worry about speed until you get balanced,” Kragen said, countering his own man’s suggestion as he held a hand out to the boy. The idiot grabbed on to it, and when Kragen pulled, the kid went flying, this time face-first into the dirt. “See? No sense of balance. You ever heard of yoga, kid?”

  “That’s for girls,” Denny Morse muttered as he shoved himself up, not daring to take Kragen’s hand this time, which went to prove the kid was learning.

  “Yeah? Well, you fight like a girl, so you might as well train like one,” Kragen shot back before glancing over at the crowd gathered to pin a look on one of the older members of his pack. “Darnel, take this lady out to the wires and don’t let her off till she manages to cross over without busting her dainty little ass.”

  Kragen finished issuing that command and simply walked away, knowing the kid now wanted nothing more than to shift and come straight for him. Denny held back, proving that he had one attribute⎯self-control. Without that, it didn’t matter how good a man was at brawling. He would inevitably find his end in a box six feet under the ground. Then again everybody ended up in a box, so Kragen didn’t figure it much mattered.

  “You went easy on that kid,” Jaxon complained as Kr
agen sauntered up to where his twin rested against his motorcycle.

  “That he did.” Khan, their second-in-command, shook his head sadly. “I was expecting more of a show. What’s wrong, old man? Feeling your age?”

  “Screw off, Khan,” Kragen shot back as he pulled a beer out of the cooler strapped to the back of his own bike. “I don’t want to exert too much energy today because I’m saving it all for tomorrow night. Isn’t that right, Jaxon?”

  “Amen to that, brother.” Jaxon reached out to knock his beer can against Kragen’s before Kragen flipped the tap. It opened with a gasp even as Khan groaned.

  “Oh God, I forgot. It’s your birthday tomorrow.”

  “That’s right.” Kragen shared a smile with Jaxon before trying to cheer up their commander. “Don’t sound so forlorn, Khan. The party is going to be a blast.”

  “Yeah? Until the next day when I’m the one stuck training all the new recruits. Isn’t that right?” Khan shot back, sounding outraged just by the very idea.

  “They’ll keep you young,” Jaxon suggested optimistically, not bothering to deny the man’s accusation.

  “Bullshit,” Kahn grunted and glared.

  “Yeah? But what are you going to do?” Kragen shrugged.

  “Complain,” Khan answered succinctly before adding on, “A lot.”

  That got a laugh from both Kragen and Jaxon.

  “You two got your tribute ready for the Dead Tree?” Khan asked, giving up the argument, though Kragen knew it was only for the moment.

  “We’re going hunting tonight.” Kragen was looking forward to it.

  “Yeah? Where at?”

  “Old Man Barnes’s lands.” Kragen shot Khan a grin with that answer. “Ever since his eyesight started to give, he’s become a terrible shot.”

  “Good luck with that.” Khan snorted.

  Kragen and Jaxon didn’t need luck. They were expert hunters, especially on moonless nights. That night no stray light lit their course as they pulled their bikes into a well-known grove and stripped out of the clothes. Shifting instantly into the wolves the God Malsumis had blessed them with, both brothers needed no extra light to find their way.

  Kragen breathed deeply, letting his feral senses take over, and slowly allowed himself to become one with the world around him. The stars shined with the brilliance of diamonds, seeming to multiply as he lifted his head and let out a wayward howl. It echoed through the night, causing all sorts of things to shift and shudder. He could hear the hard pounding beat of a rabbit’s heart, could smell the fear prickling the possum’s fur, and knew that, not but a few hundred feet ahead, a deer had leapt off into the woods.

  That was his tribute.

  His and Jaxon’s.

  They worked together to bring the big buck down. When they would have normally dived in for a hearty meal, they instead began dragging the carcass back the ten miles to their own desolate lands. That was the real challenge. It would have been easier to accomplish as men, but easy did not make for a good tribute.

  So they dragged the deer back over the uneven ground and up the mountain to the bald spot the giant rock had been named after. There, in the middle of what had once been prosperous lands, stood the one last remainder of what had once been⎯the Dead Tree. There in its hollow core lay the spirit of a woman betrayed, never dying, never living.

  That woman had once been the mate of the Shardars that had ruled when Kragen had been a child. They’d seduced a beautiful young witch, who had fallen madly in love with them. The Shardars, on the other hand, had been only in search of power. They’d lusted after the witch because she’d been the strongest in her coven. When they’d gotten her pregnant, there had been much celebration until she’d given birth to a girl.

  The Jaris didn’t breed girls. They had no need for them and neither did the God Malsumis, who created them. So they’d cast her and her child back out. With her heart broken, the witch had abandoned life, hanging herself from the Dead Tree and laying down a curse that had long been believed could be broken only by her descendant.

  The Jaris had looked long and hard, but the child the witch had borne had been taken back into the coven, and they were no friends of the Jaris. Even the witches that worked for the Masters of Cerberus refused to aid them. They all said the same thing. The curse could be broken only by the blood past, by the child that had disappeared well over two hundred years ago.

  By now she was long dead, just like the tree.

  That didn’t stop Kragen or Jaxon from dropping their kill at the base of its trunk, a symbolic gesture that went to prove that they would provide for their offspring. Then they bowed to the tree and rolled onto their backs, showing submission to the will of the tree. The final ritual was to howl, a lonely call for a family they’d been denied.

  It was all to prove to the goddess that they deserved to have the curse lifted because now she was the only one that could help them. She never did…but there were other gods. Kragen stilled as the whoop of the flap of a set of large wings drew his eyes upward, and he froze.

  It was the Great Owl, the spirit of the God Malsumis unseen for centuries. Kragen had heard rumors that it had started to reappear but hadn’t dared to hope for a sighting himself. He got more than that.

  Soaring high in the sky, the owl glided downward, its talons coming out to grip one of the dead limbs of the Dead Tree in a sign that could not be mistaken. The curse could be broken. Kragen knew it in that moment, and in that moment, his future glowed with a promise it never had before.

  He knew he was not alone in feeling the sudden lift of his spirits. Jaxon was right there with him, bowing his head before their master in a sign of respect. One that was instantly accepted with a flap of the bird’s wings. Then it took off, and both brothers were right on its tail.

  Racing back through the night, they leapt over rocks and fallen trees, darted amongst the shadows, and kept pace until the Great Owl landed on the gnarled limb of an old oak that they’d tucked their bikes behind. The owl rested there for only as long as it took them to shift and dress.

  Then it was leading them home.

  Khan and a few dozen of their pack had a surprise pre-party planned. They’d lit a bonfire and brought out the booze, along with enough women for each man to pick more than one to entertain them for the night. The music pounded out, a greeting that would have thrilled Kragen if he wasn’t already vibrating with excitement.

  “Gather the men,” Kragen ordered as Khan came rushing up.

  “They’re already gathered,” Khan shot back with a snort. “Can’t you see? They’re all over there partying, so why don’t you get off your lazy ass and join us?”

  Like Kragen had any interest in whoring it up right then. With a pointed look up to the edge of the house where the Great Owl had perched, he offered his commander only one order.

  “We ride tonight.”

  With that, he let out a howl, this one a call to arms that had all of his men lifting their heads in response. There needed to be no other explanation than that. Kragen had called the pack to him, and they would follow him anywhere. Even if they wouldn’t, there wasn’t a man amongst them that didn’t notice the Great Owl watching overhead. All knew what that meant.

  There was a mad scramble to collect bikes and gather gear, but still everybody managed to be amassed in the front yard of Kragen and Jaxon’s home within minutes. There they sat, on their bikes, waiting for direction from the spirit of Malsumis.

  He watched over them for long silent minutes before finally taking off. Leading them down the mountain and across the plains, the Great Owl flew without ever once looking back as the men followed. It wasn’t until the darkness had faded from the sky and lightened into a pale blue that the owl finally landed on a roadside sign.

  Kragen and Jaxon pulled to halt, bringing the rest of the pack to a stop along with them as they all waited for the next sign, but right before their eyes, the Great Owl vanished.

  Chapter 1

  Jezie DeBoz
sat bent over her spell book, studying the potions inside and considering just how she’d like to try and improve them, when the first howl echoed through the still night air. One lone wolf cry would have barely registered, but instead, the haunting sound grew louder as the voices of many joined the one. That wasn’t right. The wolves and the wolven in the area didn’t travel in packs that big.

  Something was up.

  Something, no doubt, to do with her sisters.

  As if to confirm her worst suspicions, Layla and Darla came flying through the cabin’s front door. A blast of frigid air chased chills up Jezie’s ankles and under the ruffling folds of her skirt, sending goose bumps up past her legs. There and then gone, the frigid tickle snapped off as the door to her cabin slammed back into place with such force the walls shook. Startled by her sisters’ sudden intrusion, Jezie did not remain shocked for more than the second it took her legs to warm back up.

  Flushed and heaving with pants that shook her whole body, Layla leaned against the carved wood, clearly trying to catch her breath as Darla darted forward.

  “We need your help, Jezie.”

  That was no surprise. This would not be the first time but somewhere around the thousandth that her older sisters had backed themselves into a corner. Though, this time the situation appeared more serious, or, at least, they appeared more frightened.

  “Please, Jezie,” Darla begged, bending her pride for a rare moment as she pleaded with Jezie. “You need to whip up a spell quick!”

  “I need help with this!” Layla called out as she tried to barricade the front door. Darla didn’t hesitate to help, which was another shock.