Frozen Vengeance

  In the wilds of frozen Alaska, can he be cruel enough to take his vengeance from an innocent woman?

  Imprisoned in the breeding center for her part in Scarlet’s escape, Angelica has to have sex with a man she’s never seen or met. When she discovers that he is unwilling, she vows to get him free instead of using him.

  Colt is a kidnap victim, blindfolded by his captor, then tied to a bed, and used repeatedly by a woman who he can only identify by the long dark hair he finds on his body. When a woman with dark brown hair comes into the room and tries to free him, he knows it’s the woman who has been using him. He vows vengeance, and in his escape takes her with him. Is she guilty? Or does he have the wrong woman?

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Frozen Vengeance

  Copyright © 2014 Evi Asher

  ISBN: 978-1-4874-0019-4

  Cover art by Carmen Waters

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books Inc or

  Devine Destinies, an imprint of eXtasy Books Inc

  Look for us online at:

  www.eXtasybooks.com or www.devinedestinies.com

  Frozen Vengeance

  Eternals Book Four

  By

  Evi Asher

  Dedication

  To Zach, for all the hours spent writing stories in wonderfully imagined worlds, with exciting adventures and heaps of fun

  Prologue

  Winter had come early and snow lay on the ground like a thick white comforter so bright, the gleam of it hurt the eyes. The only sound that broke the Alaskan silence was the clink of harnesses and the panting of sled dogs.

  A bellowed command rent the chilly air. “Haw!”

  As a unit, the dogs turned to the left, leaving the cover of the trees behind, then crossing a snow bridge over a frozen stream.

  “Good going, dogs,” Colt called to his team as they maneuvered with dexterity to the other side of the stream.

  He’d been working with this team for over a year, and they were coming together well. They functioned as a group, and had endurance and speed.

  Colt was planning to enter the Iditarod with the team. The Iditarod is an annual long-distance sled-dog race run in early March from Anchorage to Nome Alaska.

  Colt was sure they would help him place in the top ten. Nanook and Disco were good lead dogs—no—they were better than good. The pair was the best lead dogs he’d ever had in a team.

  With this team, he might even win. He grinned at the thought and spoke more reassuring words to the dogs. He would run them for another hour, then turn back for the run home to the village.

  He let his mind drift to his home, and the people he called family.

  Colt’s ancestors had been white hunters that had come north to hunt the polar bears, but something had gone wrong and they ended up becoming shifters.

  There was talk of a curse—some said a polar bear therinthope—had infected a hunter. No one knew for sure, but the hunters had settled down in an isolated village north of Alaska where their inner bears were happiest.

  Colt’s thoughts turned to what waited for him back at the village and he mentally winced. When he got back, he’d have to deal with Jericho’s latest drama. Colt loved his best friend, but Jericho loved trouble and looked for it. This time he found it in a fight over a neighboring villager’s daughter. Colt tried not to think about it anymore, Jericho was Jericho and there was no changing the ice-bear. It fell on Colt to fix what Jericho had messed up. That was the burden of being a leader.

  Colt sighed and tightened his hands on the sled handles and the reigns.

  “One more hour, you hounds,” he called to the dogs and they sped up a bit as if they didn’t like the idea of going back.

  They were running towards another thicket of trees when the snow changed color, becoming red with reflected flame.

  Colt squinted, trying to see into the wall of flame that had appeared above the snow.

  “Whoa!” he called, but the team—once started—didn’t stop easily. “Whoa!” He called again, and Disco and Nanook slowed the team down.

  It was more the wall of fire than his command that caused the Alaskan Huskies to slow.

  Colt squinted at the blaze and even through his polarized sunglasses, the glare was painful to his eyes.

  When two women stepped out of the flame, Colt felt the urge to turn his team and run. He was used to strange things. Growing up in a community of polar bear shifters had proven that the world was not what it seemed to be, but he’d never seen anything like this before.

  “What the—” His words were cut off when a dart hit his neck.

  Colt closed his fist around the barrel and fletching, yanked it out.

  “What do you think you are doing?” he bellowed at the women. Their flames had started to fade so he could see they looked human. They were dressed in antiquated robes—one in a red set, the other wore green—and they didn’t seem to feel the need to explain their actions.

  “Answer me!” he demanded, stepping off the runners of the sled. He grabbed on to the sled handle again when he felt dizzy and his vision went blurry. “What was in that dart?”

  “He should have been sedated by now,” Red robes said to the woman in the green.

  Green nodded and raised something to her mouth and expelled a quick, sharp breath.

  Colt felt another dart hit his neck and yanked that out, too.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” He let his bear surge to the forefront of his mind and body, giving it some control, and roared. The polar bear in him would be more able to fight off the effects of the sedative they’d darted him with, and there was no way he was going to let them come onto his land and treat him like wildlife.

  What did they want with him anyway? Why the unwarranted attack?

  Colt’s dark hair started to turn white at the roots, the white flowing toward the tips as the change escalated. His green eyes began to glow purple. They were so bright, they were almost neon. Claws burst through the tips of his gloved hands, and he felt his body broaden and start to enlarge. His bear was taking full control.

  The woman with the dart gun raised it to her lips again, her eyes widening in what he assumed was fright. She blew another dart and it hit Colt in the neck a third time.

  Her damn aim is phenomenal.

  Colt knew he was losing this battle. The drug was dragging him under, and even his bear’s strength was not going to help him out of this one.

  He stepped away from the sled. His only concern was for the dogs that look to him for protection. Colt fell to his knees.

  “Disco, Nanook. Home!” He spoke as loud as he could, but his voice was just above a whisper. The dogs stayed standing, their heads turned to him for command.

  “Home!” he managed, loud enough for Disco and Nanook to listen. The team took off dragging the unmanned sled behind them, leaving him kneeling in the snow.


  Colt felt better. He knew the team would make it home fine, and like homing pigeons, they would always find their way back.

  “What do you want with me?” he asked, his voice disappearing as he spoke.

  The dart-gun wielding bitch raised the thing to her mouth again. This time Colt didn’t have the strength to yank the dart from his neck, as the white world he loved so much faded to black and he lost consciousness.

  * * * *

  “You have used too many darts, Philipa.” The woman in red stepped closer to Colt’s prone form. “The drug might kill him.”

  Philipa kicked some snow on Colt’s face and he groaned. “He’s not dead, yet, Catherin. I’m sure he will survive. Besides, did you want that beast of his attacking you?”

  “No,” Catherin admitted. “But he will be no good for the breeding hall if he is dead, and we have spent too much time hunting him and waiting for this chance. To risk killing him is stupid.”

  Catherin knelt in the snow and shivered, the white powder causing her discomfort. She put two fingers against the jugular pulse point on Colts throat. “His pulse is slow, too slow.” She frowned. “Open the tear so we can take him through and be done with this task.”

  Philipa waved her hand from head-height down to her waist and a rip appeared in the air, a shimmering room visible on the other side.

  Philipa dipped her chin at Colt’s prone form. “Shoulders or feet?”

  Catherin pulled her face into a look of distaste. “Why does he have to be such a big beast?”

  “Stop whining, and choose,” Philipa grumbled.

  “Very well. I will carry his feet.”

  The women positioned themselves and lifted Colts six-foot frame.

  Both of them groaned at his weight. “Why do we have to pick them so large? I know he is the only one that can do this job, but still…” Philipa complained.

  “There should be more hunters with us.” Catherin took a step towards the tear and Philipa followed her.

  The women stepped through the rip into the room beyond and the rift closed, leaving no more than some trampled and melted snow as evidence of what had happened in the clearing.

  Chapter One

  Angelica felt like she was in prison for a month, but she knew it was only a week.

  After her aborted escape attempt with Scarlet and the others, the Phoenix had deemed her unfit for freedom, and locked her in the cell in the breeding hall until they were ready with the male who would sire her child.

  She’d mentally kicked herself countless times for not going through that tear with the others. It had been her one hope of avoiding the breeding, but seeing Scarlet whipped had made Angelica sick to her stomach, and she’d known they would never make a proper escape if she didn’t stay behind and help Desembara to keep the other phoenixes from following the women through the portal.

  She got up off the narrow cot and started pacing again. Her breeding had been planned for a long time, and she was very near her fertile period now, but it didn’t mean Angelica had to like it.

  She wanted nothing to do with it.

  She didn’t want to have to have sex with a male so she could conceive one of the next generations of phoenix. The males of her species who had decided to fight to the death wasn’t her fault.

  Angelica shook her head because she was being unfair. Many hundreds of years ago, the phoenix had lived on the Earth plane with the other Eternals, but the necromancers had craved the power they could have from enslaving a mature phoenix. So, the phoenix had been hunted until just about all the men had died protecting their women. They had refused to let their women carry arms or help in the fight.

  Stupid testosterone.

  When there were no more than a few phoenixes left. The remaining elder women had pooled their power and brought the survivors to this plane, and from then on, they’d shunned men. They only allowed female phoenix children to survive while they kidnapped the shifter males, bringing them to the plane for breeding purposes.

  They didn’t target any other type of eternal for the breeding. To make a phoenix, you needed the mother’s fire and the father’s beast, so only lycans and therins were taken, and the child born from the union would usually have the male’s animal form.

  The phoenix women had no choice in the matter either. They had one male per phoenix to breed with and once the deed was done, the male was taken away.

  What happened to the male, Angelica didn’t know. She had a feeling the elder women killed him, and the thought put a cold spot in her stomach.

  She turned at the stone wall and paced towards the wooden door.

  One step, two steps, three steps, four steps, door.

  She turned again and paced to the wall. She could count every stone, knew each piece of mortar personally, and felt like she was going to go insane from the confined space and the isolation.

  Her food—what little she got—was shoved through a slot in the door with no word spoken. She was a prisoner of her own people, and it rankled her on the deepest level.

  She sat down on the wooden bed and picked up her small eating blade. They’d left a blade and a fork with her since there was no way she could do real harm to herself with either.

  She shifted to the foot of the bed and continued carving the bedpost into the shape of an owl. Angelica’s animal form was that of an owl, though she didn’t spend much time as one, but she loved the freedom of flying, and the thrill of the hunt.

  Angelica stopped carving when she heard footfalls approaching her cell. She put the knife down and stood, dusting off her robe.

  It wasn’t time for a meal. She swallowed the surge of nervousness that tried to claw its way up her throat. It had to be time for the breeding. Someone was fetching her to take her to the male so he could do what he needed to do to impregnate her.

  Her pulse raced, terror snaking through her stomach like something alive. She didn’t want to do this. She hated that they were forcing her to do this. There had to be a way to get out of this. She’d spent too much time depressed about her situation. She was running out of time to think of a solution.

  Angelica heard the rattle of keys on a ring, then the key inserted and twisted in the lock of her door. The doorknob turned and the door pushed open.

  A tall woman with dark sable hair stepped into the room. Her deep brown eyes found and pinned Angelica where she stood in the small cell.

  “So you are to be mated with the ice-bear.” As she spoke, she moved deeper into the room, her stare measuring Angelica.

  Angelica straightened her spine, pulling her shoulders back, and trying to stand taller. “Who are you?”

  The woman was a foot or so taller than Angelica, so the effort was a waste.

  She lifted her chin. “I’m Malta, and I’m in charge of the breeding hall.”

  Angelica wanted to snort at the sense of self-importance radiating from the woman.

  “Is it time for me to be bred?” She tried to hide the terror the thought put in her, but she felt her palms begin to sweat and so rubbed them dry on her robes in an unconscious movement.

  “Not yet. You will soon be taken to see the male that is going to breed you, but I’m in no rush.” A sly smile curved Malta’s lips. “I’m enjoying this male, and he will be disposed of as soon as you conceive, so you can see why I’m not in a hurry for you to use him.”

  Angelica was confused. “Enjoying?”

  A sardonic laugh burst from Malta’s lips. “Yes, using. Enjoying his—how shall I put this…ample charms.”

  The smirk on Malta’s face grew and Angelica felt sickened. “I thought only one phoenix bred with one male.”

  “Yes?” Malta looked confused for a moment, and then she seemed to get what Angelica was asking. “I’m not breeding with him. I’m fucking him, dear girl.”

  Angelica felt heat creep into her cheeks, and dropped her eyes.

  Malta scoffed. “Oh, come now, don’t be such a baby. Sex is what the breeding hall is

  about.”


  “Breeding is what the breeding hall is about, and I’m not used to such crassness,”

  Angelica shot back forcing the words through clenched teeth.

  “You will get used to it. You will have to.” Malta turned and started to leave.

  Angelica didn’t want to be alone again even if it was the detestable Malta she was talking to, so she said the first thing that entered her mind.

  “So he likes to…do it?”

  Malta stopped and turned back to Angelica. “Of course not. It’s seldom that we a find willing males. He is forced. As they all are. Bound so we can take their seed into us…” She smirked again. “Or if we are lucky enough to be in charge…pleasure us.”

  Bile rose in Angelica’s throat. She didn’t say anything else as Malta left, her horror at what she’d found out too great.

  It was bad enough they would force her to bear a child for the good of the Phoenix race, but forcing the men? Wasn’t there a better way to do this?

  She watched Malta leave and made a vow.

  No! Angelica would not do this. They’d have to kill her, but she was not going to participate in rape. She’d find a way out of this, for her and the male who was supposed to father her offspring.

  * * * *

  With every day that passed with Colt strapped to the bed, his body felt stronger.

  He’d woken up, blindfolded, naked except for a sheet draped over him, and tied to a bed, his restraints reinforced so that he could not break them, even with his massive strength.

  Colt had called out demanding he be released and tried his best to break the bonds, but nothing had happened. No one had answered him.

  He’d tried to let his bear come forward, but the creature seemed to be asleep inside Colt.

  He hadn’t known how long he’d been there. There was no way to tell night from day with a blindfold on, and no smells that he could distinguish.