Ebb & Flow 2
by
At 130 years old, lone Nova Scotian werewolf Malachi Powers never intended to find a mate, until fate sent him Quinn Boucher, a much younger man. Now, after only a few months, Malachi can't imagine his life without Quinn. But when Quinn returns to Nova Scotia, Malachi learns that the man who belongs to him has been keeping a secret--something Malachi cannot allow.
At 22, Quinn Boucher has been through more trauma than most people survive in a lifetime. Although he is healing, lately his nightmares have worsened. After he lashes out during a flashback, his employer sends him to Nova Scotia to rest with Malachi at the home of Anax Silas Creighton, ruler of the Canadian werewolves. Face to face with his mate, the man he calls Sire, Quinn can no longer hide the truth.
As Quinn battles his demons with Malachi by his side, a new threat faces them. Silas's newest guard, Andy, has malevolent intentions against Silas--and the rest of the werewolves of Canada. Only Quinn, with his clairvoyant abilities, can see what Andy truly is and the magic the other man wields, and only Quinn is left to fight when Andy takes control of Malachi, Silas, and the other guards. But to save his mate and the others, Quinn must first defeat the worst of his buried memories--memories now fueled by Andy's power.
This book includes intense descriptions of flashbacks to abuse and sexual assault, harsh language including one use of the F-slur against a gay man, depictions of PTSD, and on-page unaliving of an evil werewolf. The main characters' relationship includes a VERY large age gap (over a century; werewolves live a long time!) and one character consensually commanding the other.
Cover Artists:
Genres:
Pairings: M-M
Heat Level: 4
Romantic Content: 3
Ending: Click here to reveal
Character Identities: Gay
Protagonist 1 Age: Ageless/Immortal
Protagonist 2 Age: 18-25
Tropes: Age Difference, Fated Mates / Soul Mates, Lone Wolf
Word Count: 85445
Setting: Nova Scotia, Canada
Languages Available: English
Series Type: Continuous / Same Characters
We exited the plane onto the tarmac of the small airfield. Beyond the Canadian Anax and Malachi were the ruins of the huge mansion that had once stood on the island. Last time I was here, someone had set fire to the place to try to kill Silas. The fire had set off an explosion in the kitchen, which had almost killed Malachi. Silas was out of the house by then. I was in his office with him when the fire started, and I’d gotten him out through the office window.
Yeah, I really, really hoped no one tried to kill anyone this time.
Silas stepped forward, with Malachi a couple of paces behind. “Kyle Slidell, mate of Tobias Rogan, Anax of the United States, you are welcome in my home. May no harm come to you here.”
“This time,” Malachi muttered under his breath. Obviously he was thinking along the same lines I was. Silas glared at him.
READ MORE“Silas Creighton, Anax of Canada, we appreciate your hospitality,” Kyle said. “May we bring no harm to your home. Or, rather, may Quinn. I can’t stay. I just wanted to make sure everything was all set before we take off.”
“Everything is.” Silas gave me a warm smile. “Quinn, you’re welcome here too. And I sincerely hope that no harm comes to you here after the last couple of visits.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that. It wasn’t a ceremonial greeting or anything. So all I said was, “Thank you, Anax.”
“Boy.” Malachi moved past Silas and studied me. I had to look away. I wouldn’t have been able to stand seeing anger, or worse, disappointment in his blue-gray eyes. I still hadn’t quite figured out what color those eyes were. They changed like the ocean, which made sense. Malachi was very tied to the sea.
He touched my cheek, turning my head toward him. I didn’t look him in the eye. I couldn’t. But I managed to murmur, “Malachi.”
In private, when only the two of us could hear, I called him “Sire.” But that was a part of our relationship some people wouldn’t have approved of, so he had instructed me to use his name in front of others. It felt wrong now. I didn’t want Malachi. I wanted my Sire. The one who commanded me and comforted me. Who took care of me, even from a distance of several hundred miles.
“I’m right here, boy.” He spoke barely above a whisper. He got to call me “boy” in front of everyone else because he’d started calling me that pretty much the moment we met. Also because he was in charge, and he got to decide which of us called the other what. But right now, he was using it to remind me of who we were to each other, and he obviously didn’t want the others to hear. “No matter what you call me, I am right here. Do you understand?”
I bowed my head. “Yes.”
COLLAPSE
