Branded by Frost
Table of Contents
Legal Page
Title Page
Book Description
Dedication
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The Prophecy
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
New Excerpt
About the Author
Publisher Page
A Totally Bound Publication
Branded by Frost
ISBN # 978-1-78430-473-7
©Copyright Aliyah Burke 2015
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright March 2015
Edited by Rebecca Douglas
Totally Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorized or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2015 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN
Totally Bound Publishing is a subsidiary of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Sizzling and a Sexometer of 2.
Astral Guardians
BRANDED BY FROST
Aliyah Burke
Book four in the Astral Guardians series
Beneath the cold can sometimes lie the hottest of heats.
Aminta Tran is a helicopter pilot sent to Alaska to fill in as a replacement until the rescue team gets a new pilot. The man who comes to get her is Dex Collins, the team’s second in command. While there’s instant attraction between them, she remains focused on doing her job and finding her artifact.
Dex isn’t sure what to make of the newest team member. They’re sharing space and each day it’s harder for him to remember the line between professional and personal.
When it comes to light he’s who she is destined to be with, will they be able to weather the storm brewing both between and surrounding them?
Dedication
To my family, y’all are the absolute best. Thank you and I love you!
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
The A-Team: Universal Television
Jeep Compass: Chrysler Group LLC
DHC-4 Caribou: de Havilland Aircraft of Canada Ltd
Night Hawk: Sikorsky Aircraft Corporation
HH-60D Pave Hawk: Sikorsky Aircraft Corporation
S-92: Sikorsky Aircraft Corporation
Portland Timbers: Portland Timbers
Tarzan: Edgar Rice Burroughs
Danger Room: Marvel Comics
X-Men: Marvel Comics
Professor X: Marvel Comics
Bluetooth: Bluetooth Special Interest Group
Subaru Forester: Fuji Heavy Industries
Suburban: General Motors Company
The parts to waken the world’s hope have been scattered far and wide to the winds and throughout the stars.
It is from there the chosen ones are marked, becoming Astral Guardians.
Alone their individual defeat has a greater chance than when paired with the amaranthine and genuine love of their mate.
Those Guardians must find, defend and bind the pieces to call forth the hope of the world.
It will take courage, strength, love and sacrifice.
If the Guardians fail, swift death will arrive to the one who calms the beasts.
With this outcome, the world shall descend into darkness, chaos and anarchy.
Chapter One
“God dammit, Frost, can you not just hold her steady? I’m about to lose my fucking lunch all over the interior.”
Aminta ‘Frost’ Tran hid her grin as she leaned in, the straps holding her to the seat. “I told you we were taking this baby out to test it. Testing does not in any way mean flying in a straight, boring line.”
“Not in your world, anyway.”
“Which is important, since this bird is my world.” She banked them left, smirking as Sean Mahoney turned a shade of green she’d not seen in years. “And if you mess her up, you’ll be cleaning her with a toothbrush.”
“You’ve got an evil streak in you, woman. I thought you were supposed to be nice.”
“I am being nice.” She leveled them off. “Do you remember that scene from The A-Team where Murdock tells them about ‘going cold’ right before he shuts down the bird? I’ve always wanted to try that.” She waggled her eyebrows at him. “Ergo, this is me being nice since I’m not doing that to you.”
“I would kill you,” he vowed.
She tsked before taking them into a fast dive, streaking past the jagged cliffs following the ocean then skimming along it. “Never good to threaten the one at the controls.”
“I’m never getting into a chopper with you again.”
“You know I’m going to miss you, Sean.” The way the sun shone off the water—like hitting a cache of diamonds—never failed to make her smile.
“Really? Is that why you’re trying to give me a heart attack during my last ride?”
“Figured you needed a grand send off. If all I did was fly from point A to B without any type of variation, you would have been under the assumption something was wrong with me.”
She moved them up before veering to the left, soaring just above the treeline.
“You’re off course even more now, Frost.”
“Nope.” She glanced down and circled before setting the helicopter down with the most tender of bounces. “We’re here.”
Sean frowned. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
She opened the door. “Come on, cranky.” After jumping out, she walked to the front of the chopper and crossed her arms.
“Do we have time for this?” He followed, hand along the side, as he steadied himself.
“Yes.” She pivoted and strode toward the treeline.
“Do I even want to know why you’re not in a flight suit?”
She waved at him over her shoulder. “Didn’t question that at the beginning?”
He caught up to her. “I’m sure I would have if I wasn’t wrestling down my food to keep it from spraying your window.”
“You are going to miss all this, you know.” Her words rang with authority.
“Surprise!” the cry plowed over any reply he would have made.
Sean slid his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Thanks, Frost.”
She smiled, glancing around at the rest of their unit. They h
ad cake and other food set out on the table. This was her home away from home. These people. Together, she and Sean hastened to join in the festivities.
Much later her cell phone vibrated in her pocket and she stepped away from the party to answer it.
“Tran.”
“You’re needed, get your ass back here on the double.” Her boss, Taggart Force, issued his command in his typical brisk, no-nonsense tone.
“On my way,” she said. With a sigh, she shoved her phone back in her jeans pocket. “That’s it for me, guys.” She blinked a few times and paused at the sight of the rest of them sitting around and not packing up.
“We didn’t get called,” Thomas said as he popped the top of another beer before shoving the rest of the six-pack back in the cooler.
“Taggart called me, so I have to jettison. Can one of you take Sean back with you?” She winked at her friend. “Unless you want to ride back with me, Sean. I’ll be pushing her this time.”
“Fuck that. I’m riding in a vehicle with wheels.”
She chuckled, swiping a piece of cake then shoving it in her mouth as she bolted for her chopper. Swallowing, she waved. “Catch you on the flip side.” She climbed in, strapped in then began takeoff procedures.
Glancing out of the window as she lifted away from the lush green grass, Aminta gave those who’d stopped to watch a two-fingered salute before veering away and accelerating. Taggart never called her unless it was an emergency—he tended to leave it to the automated service that dialed them all when they were needed.
As she flew along the shore, she stared off to the snow-capped mountains. Winter neared, yet she and her friends had taken advantage of one of the final few days of their Indian summer in order to throw the farewell bash for Sean. Given we managed to get it most of the way completed, I will count it as a success. She licked her left index finger, removing the last bit of cake frosting. Too bad there hadn’t been time for a larger piece.
Landing the chopper in her designated spot, Aminta gazed around before she powered down and hopped out. Wonder where he is. Figured he would be out here to meet me.
Milton Hornsby rolled up in a fuel truck and climbed down. “Boss is waiting for you inside.”
“Thanks.”
She set off at a jog, pausing only once to look back. Milton stood hard at work, refueling her helo. Aminta yanked open the door and strode down the empty hall of the Forest Service building. Those who worked here—and who should have been here now—had been with her saying goodbye to Sean.
Her boots made very little noise as she moved but a single step was all it took to take her to the floor. She shuddered as excruciating pain wove through her veins in place of blood.
“Roz?” No response, but her pain increased with each heartbeat. Sweat rolled from her temples. “What’s going on?” She pushed her question along the common communication line with her brethren.
In the next moment she was hit by an excruciating mixture of pain and loss. She would swear her heart had been ripped out. Tears streamed down her face as she shook with untold emotion. Her sister was dying.
With force she wasn’t sure she possessed, she cried out for her. “Roz!”
“Aminta?”
“Stop please. You’re killing yourself,” she begged with everything she had. Aminta couldn’t explain how she knew. She just did. Whatever Roz was doing, it was killing her, swiftly.
“Follow the horses.”
“What?” Dracen posed the question.
“Please, Dracen. Follow the horses. Just follow the horses.” Then Roz was gone.
Aminta shuddered and struggled with the simple job of bringing oxygen into her lungs. She sat back on her heels and reached up with an unsteady hand to balance herself as she rose.
“What happened?”
“We don’t know, Aminta. We just don’t know.” Lian’s voice rang with the worry not even he could hide.
“Let me know.” She wasn’t close enough to get to her—or any of them. She had her work to do here, even if she had been close enough.
“As soon as we do,” he promised.
Her stomach churned with nausea and she gulped for air. Wiping her hand under her nose, she hesitated when it came away wet. She stared at the back of her hand, disturbed by the smear of blood along it. Taggart would have to wait a few moments longer.
She altered her direction and went to the bathroom. Staring at her reflection, she frowned at the blood running from her nose. Her skin had lost some color and she ripped off a few paper towels to clean up the mess. At least none of the blood is on my white shirt. Aminta threw the used items in the trash before she washed her hands again then dried them and went for the door, where she paused, tossing the paper towels in the receptacle like shooting a basket.
She lengthened her stride and headed right for Taggart’s office. Although she had no wish to, she shoved her worry for Roz to the back of her mind. She couldn’t do anything from here, otherwise they would have told her.
She knocked on the door with three brisk raps.
“Enter.”
After following the directive she closed the door behind her. “You requested my presence, oh fearless leader?”
“Took you long enough,” he barked.
“Sorry,” she retorted. “I had a nose bleed and didn’t think you wanted me leaving a trail from the front door to your office.”
He crossed his arms, stretching taut the blue material covering his muscled chest. “Always blunt.”
Her shrug was unrepentant. “What did you need?”
Taggart rose from his chair, filling her vision with his six-foot frame. He shoved a hand through his black shaggy hair. “You sure you’re okay?”
Aminta nodded. Now it wouldn’t do her any favors to worry about Roz. “Yes.”
“Someone came to hire you.”
She narrowed her eyes as she touched a finger beneath her nose to ensure the bleeding hadn’t restarted. “Hire me? I didn’t know I was out for hire. Do you get a cut for arranging this?”
He leveled one of his famous ‘shut up’ looks on her. “Just hear him out.”
She held up her hands and took a seat before miming zipping her mouth shut and throwing away the key. Taggart shook his head.
“Pain in my ass.”
She waggled her eyebrows at his statement. Keeping his life full of sass was a highlight of her day. From her seat she waited while he walked to another door and opened it.
“Come on in,” Taggart said.
A shadow filled the doorway before morphing into a figure she could make out. Hot damn. The man stood a few inches taller than Taggart. Not an ounce of fat existed on his body, not that Taggart had any either, but this man was…wow.
“Dexter Collins, meet Aminta Tran, the best goddamn chopper pilot I know.”
He sliced a cold, impersonal gaze in her direction—it reminded her of a male peacock boasting the vibrant iridescence of his green feathers. His eyes were beautiful and blended well with the golden tan of his skin and hair that reminded her of chocolate pudding, thick and rich.
This is the best chopper pilot he knows? This little Asian woman? He’d bet he could snap her in half. A thick black braid rested over her left shoulder and covered her breast—a breast he could easily palm. She made no move to get up and greet him, just studied him with her brown eyes.
He stepped forward and held out his hand. “Call me Dex.”
She rose and took his hand, her shake strong and brief. “Frost is what people call me.”
Interesting. He didn’t want to release her hand but he had no way of retaining his hold without making a scene. “Frost,” he said.
She quirked an eyebrow. “Dex.”
Sassy. He liked that. “I need a pilot.”
“Figured that when I got called here and Taggart said someone wanted to hire me.” She sat. “What can I do you for?”
He took occupation of a chair near her so he could monitor her reactions. So many replies, damn n
ear all of which were inappropriate, popped into his mind. “I’m part of a high altitude rescue team.”
She blinked. “Congratulations?”
“We recently lost a pilot and are in need of another.”
She sobered and rested her chin in her hand. “Lost how?”
“He died.”
“Rescue related—or something else?”
Beside him, Taggart glared at her. Dex understood her asking. If he was in her place he would have posed the same question. It was something one wanted to know. Still didn’t renew the anger he had at the situation.
Dex clenched his jaw. “Rescue related.”
She let that go and he was grateful. Everyone in the business had the knowledge—rescues were dangerous.
“So why come to me? Or rather, looking for another pilot here? Surely you have someone more used to your area, the currents, topography?”
“We’re having a hard time. People are starting to believe the job is cursed.”
Okay, he definitely had her attention now. She sat up straighter and her eyes took on a way more interested gleam.
“Cursed?”
He sat across from her, skimming his tongue along his lower lip. “I’m from the Alaskan station.”
Dawning comprehension filled her gaze. “One of the ones covering the Far North region.”
“Yes, you’ve heard.”
“You’ve had a few accidents lately.”
“Hence the rumors. We need a pilot.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “An experienced one.”
“And why you had this look of disbelief on your face when you first saw me.”
“Yes.” He hoped she would give him credit for his honesty.
“When do we leave?”
He stared at Taggart for a moment before placing his gaze back on her. “You’re willing?” He worked at hiding his shock. Honestly, he’d expected a bit more convincing to get her on his side and willing.