Stallion of Ash and Flame (Siren Publishing Classic) Read online

  Stallion of Ash and Flame

  Drojovv Zyan is a man-stallion of ash and flame. He's on a mission to save his world's crucial Earth portal from the fires ravaging the National Forest surrounding it. Pretending to be a tracker named Trail, he settles in a small Southeastern Arizona town. When he gets an eyeful of the beautiful ranch owner, Seneca, he stud-lusts after the Earth human, a woman he's not supposed to take as his Mate.

  Trail leaves her alone until her brother is in a bad motorcycle accident and she needs a hired hand. Soon both of them are threatened by a horde of enemies, especially the aliens who plan to rape Earth of its gold and are determined to use amulets only Seneca can touch.

  Trail must protect Seneca at all costs. His world depends on it, her world depends on it. And his heart comes to depend on it.

  Genre: Paranormal/Shape-shifter

  Length: 57,672 words

  STALLION OF ASH AND FLAME

  Savanna Kougar

  EROTIC ROMANCE

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000."

  If you find a Siren-BookStrand e-book being sold or shared illegally, please let us know at [email protected]

  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Erotic Romance

  STALLION OF ASH AND FLAME

  Copyright © 2009 by Savanna Kougar

  E-book ISBN: 1-60601-593-1

  First E-book Publication: September 2009

  Cover design by Jinger Heaston

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2009 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

  DEDICATION

  To all the wild horses.

  STALLION OF ASH AND FLAME

  SAVANNA KOUGAR

  Copyright © 2009

  Chapter One

  Her Hired Hand

  Southeast corner of Arizona, Spring 2009

  Trail rapped his knuckles on the splintery wood of the ranch house’s front door, and made a mental note to replace it. The instant Seneca moved to answer, he gathered her fragrance into his nostrils, then let the blazing rose and gingery spice of her womanly flesh course through him. He suppressed his urge to breathe in her scent more fully. He’d decided to help her and, at the same time, make his cover on Earth look real.

  Trail had admired Seneca from afar, mainly at the Saturday night dances in town. Despite the raging bulge of his cock every time he did catch sight of her, he knew she was not a woman to give a man a one-night tumble, so he’d always respected her aloofness toward him.

  Even now, his balls ached to give her a mounting she’d always remember. One that would make her call out his name, his real name, Drojovv. One that would make her summon him when he ran as stallion, the way of lovers in his realm.

  His was an equine shifter world more advanced in technology than present-day Earth.

  Since the time of Deluge, after the catastrophic sinking of Atlantis, Earth and his planet-world had been connected by a portal, many of them now. The first portal had been created by renegade Atlantean scientists looking for other worlds to inhabit.

  Down, stud, he commanded himself. You’re only here to help a mare in need.

  Before she opened the door entirely, Seneca peeked around the edge. The glisten of her bright sky eyes galloped over him. Recognizing him, she opened the door, her gaze meeting his without an ounce of pretense. Still, speculation flickered in their depths. Trail had decided a long time ago her eyes were a type of magic he wanted to explore. However, that could not be his destiny.

  “Howdy, Seneca. I’m looking for a job. Mandy saw your ad for a hired hand until your brother can get back on his feet again. I’m applyin’.” He tried a small grin that he hoped looked more friendly than saying, “I want to grab your fine round ass and plunder your mouth until you melt against me.”

  “Trail, is it?” She stepped outside, letting the door slam closed. Raising her chin, she eyed him almost fiercely and crossed her arms beneath her plump perky breasts. Hell, she rarely wore a bra, and now her nipples poked her flannel shirt, he knew not for him. The morning chill hadn’t been dispelled by the sun’s ferocious heat yet.

  “Yes, ma’am. That’s my handle.”

  “Why Trail?” Her tone interrogated him, even though her brows rose revealing her curiosity.

  “End of the—” He paused, hoping for an amused glint in her eyes. Nothing. “As in, end of the trail.” Still nothing. “This is where I make my home, end-of-the-trail,” he added.

  Trail had the wild urge to grab off his hat and finger the brim nervously like he’d seen in the old western movies he’d watched over and over. Yep, a filly like her would sooner kick his flanks, then race past him. That is, unless he minded his manners.

  “Oh.”

  Her voluptuous dark pink lips formed an O. Trail caught himself wondering if she would respond to him like Maureen O’Hara had to John Wayne when he’d hauled her over his lap and given her ass a good blistering. Or when he’d seized her against him and forced a kiss on her fighting lips.

  Stop, he warned himself. Stop thinking like that.

  “Well, if Mandy thinks you’re okay, it might work. Are you two an item now? Last I knew she was pining hard for Rick.”

  Trail watched her become aware she chatted friendly-like with him. She halted, searching his face. Dominant little mare, he thought, with that stubborn chin and that fiery gleam in her eyes. Yep, she’d nip his withers as soon as she looked at him.

  “Nope, we’re just coffee-drinking buddies. Mandy is still chasin’ after Rick. My bet is she’ll get him roped real soon.”

  Seneca nodded, her loose hair taking on a life of its own. He swallowed, watching the long smooth strands of coppery red dance in a lazy rhythm.

  “I can’t pay all that much. What kind of salary are we talkin’?”

  Trail knew she didn’t want any man around. But she was desperate. Her brother had busted himself up riding a new Harley and wouldn’t recover for a good two months. She had her horses to care for, and the small ranch itself.

  “Since I’m between jobs, all I’m looking for is enough to tide me over. If you let me bunk down here, it’ll save me rent money. And I’ll be c
lose whenever something extra needs doin’.”

  The sudden shyness of her expression surprised him some. He had expected wariness.

  “I thought,” he continued, hoping he wouldn’t have to persuade her if she downright said no, “I could use your brother’s add-on to the house, since he’s staying in town.”

  “Yeah,” she murmured, sadness crossing the sky of her eyes, “Rory is closer to everything that way. And Clara, his girlfriend, insisted on taking care of him.”

  She sighed and dropped her shoulders, her weariness showing. Worse, he saw how dispirited she’d become. He knew it wasn’t just because of her brother, but because life hadn’t been overly kind to her from the stories he’d heard. Hell’s own long race, she needed him to take care of her. To protect her. Every mare needed her stallion.

  She raised her eyes to him, expectant. “You still haven’t told me what kind of salary you want.”

  “You throw in some cookin’ and that’s all I need. Got some change saved up. I didn’t want to spend it on living expenses.” He lied. But, Earth humans were tricky as a herd of attacking hooves to deal with if things didn’t make sense to them.

  “I’m not real good at regular cooking. But, I guess you could have use of the kitchen and the food supplies. Unless you don’t cook.” She eyed him and waited, her gaze guarded.

  No wonder she’d never mated, being the type of mare who required special handling. Most human males wouldn’t have owned a clue. And there were only a few stallions in his home realm who would be capable of mounting her so she’d yearn for their lovemaking. If his mission on Earth hadn’t been absolutely crucial, he would have promised himself her soft round haunches. He would have promised himself her carnal taming.

  “I can cook up a few meals.” He gave her a reassuring grin. “If you like oatmeal, I’m your man.”

  “Oatmeal cookies,” she softly blurted out.

  He knew she hadn’t meant to admit to him what she did like. He witnessed it deep in her eyes, the times men had used whatever she revealed about herself to manipulate her. Still, he smiled inside. Part of her responded to him.

  “You want to show me the stables now? So your horses will get to know me.”

  “We’ll turn them out for some run time outside. I was on my way to...” She stopped suddenly, her gaze riveted.

  He pivoted around following her gaze. An ugly plume of smoke from a forest fire in the Federal Park bordering her land met the sky’s thin bank of low clouds.

  “One fire after another,” she muttered. “And nothing is ever done to stop it. Not really.”

  He knew she referred to the intentional firebombs tossed into dry brush and timber areas by drug runners and by the coyotes trafficking in illegal immigrants. The inferno blast of fire was used to divert anyone tracking them, or meant as retaliation against those they considered enemies.

  He knew about another fire war in this southeast corner of Arizona, but couldn’t tell her. Those he called the Fire Starters, non-Earthers, battled with a certain group of elite humans. He knew because it was part of his mission.

  “Yes,” he stated. “The winds are keeping it away. I keep the shortwave alert on,” he explained, then peered at her face while she watched.

  “Yeah, I do, too. And, if need be, I can flood the canals Rory and I built last year. We spent a ton on that project, but it should keep the ranch and the horses safe from any wildfires. I’ll show you how it works later.”

  “I heard your brother explain how it worked to Sally. She and her husband’s ranch is constantly threatened.”

  “Yep, Rory and I gave them a tour not a month ago. I know you’re good at handling horses, but how are you at handling a rifle, Trail?” She lifted one dark red eyebrow, then moved down the short set of steps. Moving past him, she headed in the direction of her small but well-constructed stable.

  Trail knew Seneca and Rory had built their stable out of the local rock, having heard the story from Pete at the pool hall in town. Striding behind her, he checked out the two corrals and the large riding arena. Grassy meadowland surrounded the stable and had been fenced off in several immense pastures. Around their acreage, the high-elevation Ponderosa forest formed a semi-circle, scenting the air with an intoxicating crispness he never failed to appreciate, even though smoke permeated it now.

  “Better at handling a pistol, ma’am.” Even better at handling my hooves. “Why, do you get trouble here?” Hot damn, he could watch her ass all day.

  “Who doesn’t get trouble these days?” She whirled around to him, her face intensely serious. “We protect our own around here. If you can’t go with that, this isn’t the place for you.”

  “I’m not an illegal,” he carefully assured. An otherworlder, yes.

  “I know you’re not. Although, with your looks some would assume you are. But that’s not what I mean.”

  “The Traffickers and Coyotes?” he asked quietly.

  She nodded once, her eyes hard and brilliant as gems. “Yeah, like I said, Rory and I protect our own from anyone, doesn’t matter who the bad guys are.”

  I’ll always protect you. Hell above the highlands, Trail knew he shouldn’t be thinking like that. He wouldn’t be around long enough to always protect her. Yet, he could protect her now. “That’s how we work on a tracker’s team. We all watch each other’s backs.”

  “Makes sense.” She paused, intensely scrutinizing him. “You should know something about me. I don’t run with the herd, unless the herd is going in my direction.”

  I’m galloping in any direction you go. Trail wanted to snort his sudden determination. “Don’t always go along with crowd myself,” he drawled.

  “Also,” she released a long breath, “the politically correct crowd in town don’t like me, and they may shun you now.”

  Trail lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug. “Never had much time for who doesn’t like who. Or is it whom?” He tried a disarming grin.

  She blinked, then gazed into the depths of his eyes, reminding him of the Witch Mares of his world. They were revered and read the destinies of those who desired positions of governing power.

  “Trail,” she addressed him seriously, “I go by my intuition a lot. If I ever get a bad feeling about you, you’ll be gone faster than I can count to ten.”

  “Fair,” he stated.

  You’ll trust me, beautiful mare, he promised himself. Already, he psi-felt her basic trust of him at a deep level, though she wasn’t consciously aware of it. She kept her barriers high as the mountains around them.

  “You know,” her gaze still pierced to his soul, “it’s character that counts, not skin color. And all I care about is a person’s true character.”

  “Glad you feel that way.” Tempted to say how adorable he found her tan-colored freckles, he didn’t. That would guarantee him a place on her bad side.

  She took a survey of his face. “What is your ethnic heritage?”

  Pure stallion for you.

  Curiosity gleamed in her gaze, the kind that appreciated his looks, if not him as a man she desired.

  “Apache, mostly, with Irish and Scots thrown in. From what I can determine.” He gave her a grin, one that naturally formed just for her. Part of what he told her was true, since some of the ancient ancestors of his race were also the ancient ancestors of Earth’s humanity, Apache being the closest race to his.

  “That explains the color of your eyes.”

  Trail watched her lips part to speak more. He knew she’d been about to describe the color of his light green eyes.

  Instead, her jaw snapped shut, and she spun around, striding swiftly toward the stable. Her worn denims strained over the generous curves of her butt causing his close-to-out-of-control lust to rage down to his parts ‘not’ unknown. His cock hitched like a rowdy son of a gun.

  Keeping himself bridled, he focused on the excitement of her horses. He could feel and hear their thoughts.

  “How many are yours?” he asked once they entered the stab
le’s cooler interior. “And how many are you boarding?”

  “Twenty between me and Rory. Thirteen regular boarders. And two who are spending about a month with us,” she answered above the whickers of welcome. “Hey, you bad boy,” she crooned to her sorrel stallion and moved toward him. “I didn’t bring you any treats. Just a kiss or two.”

  Her lips met the stallion’s offered muzzle and she pressed a soft kiss. The next moment, she opened his stall door. “He knows where to go,” she explained.

  Happiness defined her posture as she watched her half-Arab stallion eagerly gait toward the far end of the stable. With a buck and a flash of his back hooves, he galloped inside his large corral, his neck grandly arched. Quickly, she opened two other stall doors, letting mares out to be with him. Walking behind them, she latched the corral’s half-door closed.

  Trail followed in her wake, observing her routine carefully, as she placed each horse in one of the various pastures. He made only minimal contact with them. For now, that would work, since the behavior of her horses wouldn’t change, except for their curious gazes at him. A glint of knowing shone in their eyes for what he was, equine in nature and in form when he chose.

  “Mainly, I need you to look after Rory’s horses and help me out with the boarders when their owners don’t show. Also, the boarders I take care of on a regular basis.”

  “You need me for other chores, don’t you?” He slid his hand down the neck of the last horse inside the stable, a paint boarder, who gazed at him with the wise eyes of an elder.

  “Careful what you volunteer for, Trail. You know a place like this always has something that needs to be done.”

  “I’m countin’ on it. I could use the distraction of some real labor. I’ll check all the fences soon as I can.”