“Brilliant book, brilliant series. I cannot recommend this series highly enough!”
The book Belador fans have been waiting for - Evalle and Storm's. To bond or not to bond should be a simple question, but nothing is ever easy in the life of this particular Skinwalker and Belador couple.
Until he completes the mating bond with Evalle, Storm has no way to find her if she's kidnapped again and preternaturals are actively hunting her in a chaotic Atlanta. Word hasn't gotten out that she can no longer shift into a powerful gryphon. When Storm’s estranged uncle in Arizona pleads for help in finding the cause behind a strange death on his tribe’s reservation, Storm agrees to go just to get Evalle out of the city and somewhere safe. A good idea on paper, not so much when he confronts a predatory majik that attacks his.
Prior to surviving a brutal imprisonment, Evalle wanted nothing more than to bond with her Skinwalker mate to share their lives and energy. She cheated death upon escape only to discover she’s lost he ability to shift into a gryphon and her powers are failing. Opening a connection with her Storm could destroy his as she discovers her body is going through new insurmountable changes. When she’s offered a chance to bring her gryphon back, Evalle jumps at it, determined to heal herself and save her life with Storm. Too late, Storm realizes he’s made a deadly mistake by bringing his mate with him.
“As always, Dianna Love delivers another sensational story that will blow your mind.” ~~ The Reading Café on the Beladors
Note: Preorder a signed copy (shipped early and personalized) now at www.DiannaLoveSignedBooks.com
Navajo reservation near the Grand Canyon in Arizona
Bidziil stepped from the darkness swallowing miles of empty land in every direction and into the faint light cast by a single-bulb outside the lone trailer.
He called out, “Nascha?”
No one appeared at the door of the dark trailer.
Frustrated, he shouted, “Nascha!”
Everyone came to Bidziil to fix their problems.
Where was someone when he needed help?
Sonny’s corpse flashed over and over through Bidziil’s mind. Bile rushed up his throat, but he had nothing else to throw up. Tears leaked down his face.
That young man had been a twenty-two-year-old rising star. No, he had been so much more, a young man Bidziil would have been proud to call a son.
Bidziil staggered around the trailer, feeling every one of his fifty-eight-years with each heavy step.
Sonny’s mangled face demanded he not stop.
“I won’t, Sonny,” Bidziil promised. He would not sleep until he got answers.
If Sonny had died in a natural way or an accident, he could at least understand it, but what he saw tonight defied description.
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