Forging Day (Crucible of Change Book 1) Read online

  Back Cover

  Urban Fantasy by Noelle Alladania Meade

  Global apocalypse never felt so good.

  Olivia almost has the perfect life. She almost has a job. She almost has a boyfriend. She almost has a future.

  It’s a good thing she has friends.

  On a sunny day in June, the entire world steps sideways into a new reality—out of this chaos, almost a third of the human population find themselves transformed into Elves, Dwarves, Goblins, and Trolls. Olivia is now a Dark Elf mage, and her new girlfriend is one sexy kitty.

  With magic, however, come monsters, and things that draw blood in the night— and now a werewolf is carving a path of pain and terror through the park next to Olivia’s home. The old Olivia would have been hiding under her sister’s bed.

  The new Olivia is going hunting.

  Adversity is the forge of the soul. For Olivia, today is Forging Day.

  Forging Day © 2015 by Noelle Alladania Meade

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or events, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  MuseItUp Publishing

  14878 James, Pierrefonds, Quebec, Canada, H9H 1P5

  Cover Art © 2015 by Celairen

  Edited by Christine I Speakman

  Copy edited by Nancy Canu

  Layout and Book Production by Lea Schizas

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-77127-708-2

  First eBook Edition *July 2015

  FORGING DAY

  Crucible of Change Series

  NOELLE ALLADANIA MEADE

  MuseItUp Publishing

  www.museituppublishing.com

  Chapter One

  So This Was What Rock Bottom Looked Like

  I had a serious Minotaur problem. The only solution was more cowbell—and I was flush with them. I smiled as I carefully prepared my satchel of goodies. Twelve cowbells of varied quality, a spool of clear fishing line, scissors, and the small bag of tripwires my brother had lovingly assembled and shipped to me. They taught him cool stuff like that in Special Forces school. I studied the diagram and instructions once more, before tucking the pages into the bundle. When you’re dealing with a self-righteous Minotaur, cow jokes never get old.

  My best friend, Kat, and I lived with Mikah and his husband Berto in a magnificent old Victorian mansion in a very nice neighborhood on the edge of a lovely park. It would have stood out among its peers even without its glorious purple hues, for it had a resident dearly-departed who refused to depart. Mikah’s Grammy had passed away a few years ago, but she obviously wasn’t ready to move on. At least she was fairly benign, as far as hauntings went.

  The house was noisy with other pre-camping activities, silly stuff like packing tents and camp stoves and whatnot. I was working on something vastly more important—annoying the crap out of an arrogant jerk.

  We were supposed to be leaving for the Sylvan Faire tomorrow for a four day weekend. I still needed to pack, but getting the cowbells and stowing them in the car was the most important part. I could always pack tomorrow morning. Now it was time to get ready for my date.

  This year, for the first time, I had someone to bring with me. I wouldn’t be spending the whole time jealously watching other couples pair off. I’d been going out with Colby for the last month, give or take a few days. We met at a party at our friend Ted’s house, and there was just something about him that drew me in. He said he’d never gone to a costume event before, or even been camping, so this would be all new for him.

  I knew I should be packing with the others, but Colby and I had planned this date and I wasn’t going to miss it. I was wearing my new red silk bra and panties while digging through my closet for something just right, when Kat came in and perched on my bed amid a pile of discarded outfits. She frowned. “Are you sure he’s worth this much effort, sweetie?”

  “I want to make him happy. It’s our first weekend away together, and I want tonight to be special. He said he has a surprise for me back at his place.”

  She looked less than thrilled, but smiled anyway. “Fine. As long as he’s making you happy. What about the red satin blouse and the grey slacks? At least that way you won’t risk flashing the entire restaurant at dinner.”

  I got the satin blouse and slacks from the bottom of the pile on the bed. I think they were the first things I’d tried on.

  At the mournful sound of the foghorn doorbell, Kat said, “You finish getting ready. I’ll get it.” She hopped off the bed, tossed back her curly blonde hair, and blew me a kiss. “Oh, dahling,” she drawled, “the things I do for love.”

  I applied a little Ancient Amber perfume to my cleavage, and ran the brush through my hair again. Not for the first time, I wished I had blonde hair like Kat. The sky blue highlights barely showed in my own brown hair.

  Kat called up, “Colby’s here.” Right on cue, I heard Grammy’s door slam shut. She really didn’t like him. When he stayed over, his showers always ran cold and he was forever tripping over nothing in the hall.

  “Colby,” I called down. “Want to come up and see your barbarian costume?”

  “No time, babe. We have dinner reservations.”

  I grabbed my purse and ran downstairs. “Later, Kat.”

  “You look great, babe. Are you sure you don’t want to skip dinner?” He leered at me suggestively.

  “I’d still like to go out to dinner,” I told him, “but we have all evening after that.” I knew it was the right answer because he smiled and held the door for me.

  Usually I met him somewhere, but tonight Colby had wanted to pick me up at the house. His car was a beater with rusted-out fenders and a big dent in the passenger door. He claimed it was all he needed to get around in since home and work were both downtown. He also said he had a loft, though I hadn’t seen it yet. Mostly he’d stayed over at my place.

  It was Wednesday night, so my favorite Moroccan place, the Sultan’s Table, wasn’t crazy crowded like it would be on the weekend. The plan was for a decadent dinner followed by a late movie before our long weekend of camping.

  The food was wonderful, as always. We lounged on pillows around the low tables, inside what looked like a Moroccan tent, and ate with our fingers. The main entrees were lovely, but the B’stella had always been my favorite dish. You wouldn’t think chicken, onion, various spices, and slivered almonds would taste so good inside a delicate filo pastry sprinkled with cinnamon and powdered sugar, but you’d be very wrong. Colby even ordered a bottle of wine with dinner.

  Colby was driving, so I was a little nervous about him having the wine, but it was a big meal, so I told myself we’d be okay. A tiny voice told me my dad would have killed me for riding with a driver that’d been drinking, but he wasn’t here. He hadn’t been for a while now. Experience told me I couldn’t tell Colby how much to drink, so I did my part by refilling my glass early and often. The more I drank, the less there’d be for him. He smiled every time he refilled my glass. He was in such a good mood tonight.

  I was pretty wobbly on the way to the car, but he seemed to be okay. His fingers were teasing up and down my thigh as we pulled into traffic, and then he undid the top button of my blouse, and then another. I didn’t say anything when we drove past the theater.

  He saw my look and shook his head. “You can catch it later, babe. I have better things in mind.”

&n
bsp; My cheeks were blazing when he slipped his hand into my bra and teased my nipple. “Colby, what if someone sees?”

  “Who cares?” He parked in a little lot next to an older building, and even came around to help me out of the car. “Come on, babe. I can’t wait.”

  He kissed me in the elevator, teasing my tongue while he played with my breasts. I closed my eyes, dizzy and aroused, and kissed him back, pulling his shirt loose so I could feel his smooth skin. He unbuttoned my blouse nearly to the waist, pulling my bra down until one breast popped out. He sucked hard on my exposed nipple. “You taste like powdered sugar. I can’t wait to fuck you.”

  He pushed me against the elevator wall and slid his hand inside my pants, stroking me as he sucked and bit at my naked breast. My knees were weak as I rode his hand. He buried his finger inside of me and was pulling my pants down and out of the way with his other hand when I saw someone behind him.

  “Dude, I’ll catch the next one.” The elevator door shut and we were alone again.

  I tried to pull my pants back up and close my blouse, but his hands were in the way.

  “Don’t, babe, we’re here.” He never took his hand out of my pants. Instead, he reached around to grab my butt, holding me in a bruising grip while he unlocked the door with his other hand. His place was a blur in the dim light, and smelled like beer and old pizza. We barely closed the door before he impatiently tugged at the last button of my blouse, tearing it loose. He pulled my bra over my head and pushed both breasts together—sucking one nipple and then the other. “I love your tits!”

  He led me through his apartment, kissing me again and again until I was dizzy. He stopped, and something nudged me behind my knees just before he pushed me back onto a futon bed.

  “I’ve been waiting all day for this,” he said, and rubbed the bulge in his pants suggestively. I didn’t really want to, but I knew what he wanted and how he liked it done.

  I unzipped his pants, freeing his pulsing erection. He brushed it against my lips insistently until I took him into my mouth, stretching to accommodate his girth. I hesitated at first, but I could tell he was getting impatient. I sucked hard on the sensitive head, hoping he’d be satisfied with that. He wasn’t. He buried his hands in my hair, wanting more, and held me as he pushed deep into my mouth, making me fight not to gag. He guided my head, pushing too deep, making sure I didn’t stop. I fought against panic, just trying to breathe, until I got into the rhythm that usually pleased him. This time, he abruptly pulled away, leaving salty droplets on my tongue. “Stop, babe. Not yet.”

  He kissed me again, pulling off my pants and underwear in one quick motion. He dragged me to the edge of the bed and pushed me onto my back, kneeling between my legs. He was just nipping at me at first before sucking harder at my exposed core. He grabbed my ass, pulling my cheeks apart, and one finger, slick with my own juices, penetrated that vulnerable opening. I bucked under his mouth, my orgasm rising—and he pulled back. “Oh god, Colby! Please, don’t stop!” Another finger joined the first, followed by another. I gasped and tried not to tense.

  “You said we could play tonight,” he said in a husky voice. “Are you ready for your surprise?” He teased me again with his tongue before he removed his fingers, leaving me momentarily empty. His mouth never stopped, and I was moaning and breathing faster when something cool and hard bumped against that tender opening. He filled me in one quick motion as I came—drawing out my orgasm as my body clenched and pulsed around the large, cock-shaped plug.

  He sat back, tweaking me with his thumb and making me jump. Cool air chilled my nipples and he slid on top of me, spreading my legs even wider with his knees. “Wait, Colby. We need a rubber.”

  “I told you, you’re the only one for me, babe.” With that he buried himself inside of me, painfully large for those first few thrusts—my body filled from both sides. He grabbed my butt with one hand, pulling me hard against him for each ramming thrust, while his other hand dug into my breast, pinching the nipple and squeezing painfully as he took me.

  “Please, Colby…” I gasped. He moved faster and faster, and I was rising again toward another climax when he gave a few more hard thrusts and yelled as he came, collapsing onto my chest.

  I moved against him, aching and sore, and still yearning for another release. “Colby, I’m not done.”

  He gave a few more half-hearted thrusts and fell out of me, already growing soft. His come slowly oozed out, leaving me in a sticky pool. “Finish yourself. I’ll fuck you again when I’m ready.” And then I heard the bastard snoring.

  I stroked myself, coaxing back that receding orgasm. I already hated myself, feeling his slick fluids and smelling sour sweat, but I didn’t stop until I came. The toy still filled me, achingly large, but I knew Colby would expect it to be there until he decided to remove it.

  * * * *

  It was still dark and I was still drunk when I woke up to Colby buried inside of me again. I tensed and groaned, my body tender and abused. “Took you long enough to wake up,” he said. He drove himself into me a few more times and pulled out. He flipped me over onto my stomach. “On your knees,” he said, pulling up on my hips.

  I bit my lip and took the position, his toy still inside me. He tugged at the plug a few times, and then spanked me hard, one cheek and then the other, with his open hand. He pulled my head around and kissed me, and then bit and sucked at my neck, marking me. He forced my knees wider apart, abruptly pulling out his toy and dropping it on the bed next to me. “I think you liked that.” He mounted me from behind, taking its place. His hands were clamped onto my hips as he seared into my already sensitive nether passage. I could tell he’d used his favorite warming lube as he slid in and out like a well-oiled piston. “Tell me you like it, babe,” he demanded.

  “I love when you fuck me hard,” I gasped out, even though his cock burned with every thrust, earning my tears of pain. My ass felt stretched and raw. He drove me into the mattress again and again, yelling as he came. I lay there under him, not moving, until he finally pulled out. I tried not to wince as he drove his fingers into me a few more times before he finally rolled over and went to sleep.

  * * * *

  I woke up with a pounding headache, burning pain where he’d played with his toy, and an aching soreness between my legs, desperate for a shower. I didn’t see my clothes, and one look at him in his filthy unmade bed in the daylight made me shudder. The toy looked even bigger in the light. I couldn’t believe I’d had it inside of me. I caught a look at myself in the mirror and wanted to cry.

  Ignoring the purple bruises on my breasts and butt and throat, and the acrid smells of semen and sweat, I ran the water as hot as I could stand, chanting to myself, “You’re on the pill…you’re on the pill.” My headache didn’t get any better when I found the only towel—dingy gray and crumpled on the floor. No wonder he always wanted to sleep over at my place. What he’d claimed to be a loft turned out to be a depressingly small and dirty studio apartment.

  I wished my car was parked outside. I just wanted to go home. It’s not his fault. I told him I would let him try something new. I was determined that this was not going to ruin my weekend. This isn’t like him. It was just that we had too much to drink. I ruthlessly tamped down that little voice reminding me this wasn’t the first time he pushed my boundaries, or ignored what I wanted.

  I made the best of a pile of fast food napkins I found in the kitchenette—at least they were clean—so I was almost dry by the time I found my clothes. The best I could say is that they were mostly intact and all there, apart from the stains and wrinkles. My new blouse was a total loss. A button was missing and the fabric was torn.

  The shower was running again, so I knew he was finally awake. He came out of the bathroom naked and erect, looking at me expectantly for a minute before finally shaking his head and turning to get dressed. I knew he wanted his morning blow job. He always held my head until I swallowed, laughingly calling it my breakfast, but my body was still sore an
d I was not in the mood today.

  I had a hazy memory of someone walking in on us last night, and so was really glad we didn’t run into anyone else in the elevator on the way down. Why did I always drink too much when I was with Colby?

  When we were in the car, he suggested that we stop for coffee. Trying not to think about how bad I looked, or the twinges I got from every bump in the road—and not wanting to start a fight—I gave him a weak smile. “Sure.”

  So much for hoping I wouldn’t see anyone I knew. Officer Curtis was there, having her morning coffee. She used to work with my dad on the force; he had been her training officer for her rookie year. I gave her a quick wave and avoided eye contact, knowing she was staring at my stained blouse and the missing button. Figuring my face was already turning pink with shame, I hurried to a small table facing away from her and gingerly sat down.

  Colby came back with his coffee and his favorite type of pastry, and a small orange juice for me. I was determined to pretend that everything was normal. “I’m so glad you were able to get off work. We’re going to have such a great time at the Sylvan Faire.”

  “Yeah, well, about that. I’m not going. It’s not that you aren’t a decent piece of ass, Olivia, but I’m not dressing up like some fag in tights to go on your little camping trip, especially when I’d have to explain being gone to my girlfriend. It’s a pity, but consider last night one last fuck for the road.”

  For a minute I couldn’t even breathe. “You have a girlfriend? You bastard!”

  He just shook his head. “Oh please, Olivia. You’re the one that couldn’t wait to get my pants off at your friend’s party, or don’t you remember giving me a blow job in his laundry room? What do you expect when you act like a slut?” He got up and turned to leave. “Enjoy your walk home. You can use the exercise.”

  He was right, an evil voice whispered in my head. I was a slut and I got what I deserved, but I still wanted to stab him in his black heart and make him suffer. I saw Officer Curtis watching us, and that gave me a much better idea. This time, I wouldn’t bite my tongue. Just before he reached the door, I called out, “So, Colby, did you ever get that parking ticket taken care of?”