Chapter One Preview: Claiming the Alpha

True Mates Generations

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Chapter One

Darius Corvinus surveyed the glitz and glamour of his surroundings, barely able to hide the contempt seething inside him. This gathering brought together some of the most prominent Lycans in the world, and to say that he felt out of place was an understatement.

The silk tuxedo tie around his neck felt like a noose, and he had to fight his every instinct to tug at it so he could breathe. His Uncle Anatoli said it was necessary; that they would never let him into the ballroom of the Waldorf Astoria if he wasn’t dressed properly. The gold-embossed invite on the cream linen paper wasn’t enough to grant him entrance to the ascension ceremony of the two most powerful would-be Alphas in the world. He had to look like he belonged.

He huffed. Belong was a not a word he was acquainted with. He wasn’t sure where he belonged, really. Maybe it was far away, in that poor, dusty village in Romania where he grew up. But it had been more than two decades since he’d been there and he doubted he would even recognize it now, much less feel at home there. But then again, he didn’t feel like he belonged in America either. Not since—

Someone jostled him, knocking him out of his thoughts. He gritted his teeth, scoffing mentally at the people around him, laughing and chatting without a care in the world. All these Lycans in this enclosed space wasn’t good for him, or his wild wolf. But relentless practice over the years taught him to rein in his animal’s nature. So that he could be normal. At least, appear to be anyway.

Being chosen to attend to such a gathering should have been an honor. But his Uncle Anatoli knew he would hate it. Perhaps that was the reason why he sent him here. As head of The Family, Anatoli Corvinus had every right to give him orders, and as his nephew and one of his enforcers, Darius had no choice but to obey. Privately, he had voiced his objections to Anatoli.

“Why must I go?” he had asked his uncle. “Surely you must be the one to represent us.”

“And that is the reason why I cannot be there,” Anatoli answered. “I am far too busy with business for such trivial matters.”

Darius bit his tongue, not wanting to point out that the ascension of a new Alpha—technically, their Alpha—was not a trivial matter. But then again, Frankie Anderson had all but abandoned her post as New Jersey’s Alpha, so why should it matter who would be taking up the mantle after her? The Family could run their business as they had done the past few decades, no matter who the Alpha was.

“Champagne, sir?”

He stared down at the young woman holding up a tray of delicate glass flutes filled with bubbly liquid. Human. For a moment, her eyes widened in surprise and her mouth gaped. He was used to such a reaction, from both Lycans and non-Lycans alike. Usually it was the tattoos that covered most of his upper body that made people gawk though his tuxedo jacket and shirt hid most of the ink on his skin. So, most likely, it was the shock of pure silvery gray hair on his head. If it wasn’t for his height or bulk, most people would have thought he was an old man. The few who dared talk to him would often ask if he dyed his hair, to which he would just answer a simple no.

“Sir?” the young woman repeated.

He shook his head. “No, thank you.”

She gave him a nod and walked away, proffering her drinks to the other guests. Alcohol was not something he enjoyed, and this certainly was not a celebration for him or The Family. Though he came as a representative, this was also part of business. When it came to The Family, everything was about the business. He was here to scope out the new Alpha, and to report any findings back to his uncle.
Something soft brushed past him, and he heard the rustle of fabric and felt the caress of silk against the back of his hand. He froze, his spine going all stiff. His inner wolf, too, went very still, its ears standing at attention. When he turned, he scented it—something sweet and delicious. He closed his eyes to get a better read on the scent. It reminded him of the sweet cheese pastries of his childhood, the ones his bunică—grandmother—used to make.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, his gaze fixing on the woman in a long dress walking away from him. He didn’t know why, but he had this urge to follow her. And so he found himself weaving through the crowd, trailing after her delicious scent.

When she stopped to talk to a tall, blond man, he hung back so neither would notice him. His wolf growled at how the man seemed too familiar with her. He stood close—too close—as he spoke.

Why was he reacting this way? He had yet to see her face. Sure, he could tell she had generous curves from the way her sea-colored gown clung to her body, but he didn’t even know what she looked like. Her hair though, looked silky and thick and he wondered how they would feel between his fingers.

Soon the man left her alone. Good. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to come near her or even overtake her so he could glimpse her face. Like he was almost afraid of what he’d see.

He kept a good distance between them, not too far that he lost sight of her, but not too close that anyone would notice. The moment he walked into the ballroom, he knew that the entire place was being watched carefully, most likely by the New York clan’s famed Lycan security guards. Already, he counted them around the area—one in the far corner, a second in the mezzanine, and a third pretending to sip champagne as he spoke into a communication device tucked in his ear. It was not that they were terrible at blending in, but Darius was trained to see such things. And after a few minutes, he already knew that they were watching her too.

Who was this mysterious woman?

She stopped and then pivoted on her heel, and if he had been less careless, she would have bumped straight into him. He quickly sidestepped so she wouldn’t notice him, grabbing a champagne flute from a passing waiter’s tray. Had he been faster, he would have seen her face, maybe even known what the color of her eyes were. When he finally reoriented himself and looked toward the direction where she ran off. She was gone.

He cursed, craning his neck for any sign of her. Her dress was distinct enough, but there were too many people. Surely she couldn’t have gone too far. It would easy enough to—

The explosion came unexpectedly, disorienting him. He thought it was a trick or that he was imagining it, but the ringing in his ears told him it was real. Before he could figure out what was happening, a second, even stronger explosion blasted into the room, knocking down several guests, including himself. He braced himself as his knees hit the floor, his palms smacking down on the hardwood the only thing keeping him from sprawling over.

A growl ripped from his throat as he composed himself. He shot to his feet and assessed his environment. Chaos reigned as people scrambled and ran for cover. Strange men dressed in robes entered through two giant gaping holes in the walls. Behind them, people in dark combat gear filed in, weapons raised and pointed into the throng of well-dressed guests.

His wolf coiled inside him, ready to pounce, to fight and to kill if necessary. His first thought, however, was the woman in the blue-green dress. Where was she? Had she made it out before the explosion?

His brain told him to leave now. This wasn’t their fight. He needed to get out. Stay alive. He wasn’t going to be collateral damage in some unknown war.

But his wolf was already fighting this brain, and he found himself heading straight into the thick of it all.

A cry made him turn his head. He’d never heard her speak but he just knew. That was her.

He turned toward the sound, his legs pumping as he sped across the ballroom. What he saw had his vision turning red. Two men dressed in robes standing over a figure slumped on the floor, a pool of silky blue-green fabric around their feet.

His wolf ripped out of him so fast that he felt lightheaded. His animal leapt up and soared toward the two men. A large paw reached out and swatted one man, knocking him down as the wolf sailed forward, opening its jaw as razor-sharp teeth went right for the other man’s jugular. The wolf’s mouth was so large it practically engulfed the man’s head, and as it bore down, the satisfying crunch of bone filled his ears just as he felt the warm blood gushing into his mouth.

It didn’t even take five seconds to take down both men. The wolf released what was left of its victim and turned to the unconscious woman on the floor.

Need to get her to safety.

The wolf wholeheartedly agreed with him for once and relinquished their body to him. He didn’t waste a second and scooped her up into his arms, then made his way toward the exit, not really caring where he was going or that his clothes had ripped away in his hasty shift. All that mattered was to get her far away from those seeking to harm her.

He followed the rest of people fleeing, down a long carpeted hallway, but instead of heading into the lobby, he turned down another smaller hallway and into the first door he found—the ladies’ restroom. He rushed inside into the plush sitting room and gently, he laid her down on the couch. Unable to stop himself, he pushed the strands of thick dark curls away from her face.

His chest tightened as looked at the exquisite face of the woman who had captivated him and his wolf. He couldn’t turn away and his gaze swept over her, starting from her delicately arched thick brows, her pert nose, and her plump lips. The dress she wore exposed her shoulders and the expanse of smooth olive skin of the tops of her lush breasts. He knew he shouldn’t be admiring the assets of an unconscious woman, but he couldn’t help himself. This was the body of a real woman, all curves and dips. Sturdy and well-built, made to be handled.

A soft gasp made him freeze. Her lips parted though she didn’t move at all. When her eyes began to flutter, he held his breath. Though clouded and unfocused, he finally saw the color of her eyes. Rather, the colors. One blue and the other green. The color of the sky and the sea, a contrast that seemed to make her even more beguiling.

For a moment, they seemed to focus. They stared up at him, but her eyelids struggled to stay open before shutting again. He reached out to touch her cheek and felt a zing across his fingertips at the contact.

Who are you?

His inner wolf howled. The urge to take her away and protect her came over him. A silly notion. She was a stranger. Vulnerable, yes, but he didn’t even know who she was.

He heard shuffling outside and went still. And he realized that it was unusually quiet. The chaos had died down. Perhaps the attackers had been defeated.

I’m a damn fool. He should have run at the first sign of danger. Who cares if all those Lycans had been killed? It would have been a boon to The Family as they would be able to go about their business without interference.

The doorknob creaked as it turned and he quickly dashed into one of the empty stalls, carefully closing the door and bracing himself against it. He closed his eyes, focusing his keen hearing on what was happening outside. Rustling fabric. The click-clack of heels on marble.

“Oh God. What was I thinking?” There was a barely contained sob and a deep breath. “I shouldn’t have told him—Adrianna?”

Adrianna? Why did that name sound familiar?

“Adrianna! Adrianna! It’s me, Deedee! Wake up!” There was a sniff and a pause. “Oh no. The mages must have hit you good with whatever potions they had. They’re gone now, but … don’t worry, I’ll get help and I’ll come back right away.” He heard more movement and the sound of the door creaking open before it slammed shut.

Darius counted to ten before he carefully made his way out of the stall. The other woman said she would be back soon, which meant he didn’t have any time. He glanced back at the woman on the couch.

Adrianna.

As in, Adrianna Anderson. He recognized the name from the invitation. This was the New Jersey clan’s soon-to-be Alpha. His Alpha.

It couldn’t be. But surely there weren’t many Adriannas here tonight. He was torn. His wolf refused to leave her side, but he knew that he couldn’t be discovered here. There was too much at stake.

We must go, he told his wolf. He leashed it tight, ignoring its howling protests. The coast was clear outside, and it was now or never. Of course, there was the fact that he was fully naked, his shift having torn his tux and his car keys away. That only made his escape now more urgent. The trip back to New Jersey would be long and it would have to make in wolf form, but he had no choice.

And speaking of going back to The Family headquarters, there was the matter of what he would report back to Anatoli.

Worry about it later. For now, he had to go before anyone saw him.

 

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Chapter Two Preview: A Twist of Fate

True Mates Generations

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Zachary Vrost stared out the window of the penthouse apartment, watching as snow drifted down. The Hudson River was half-frozen, the ice glittering from the glowing lights of Manhattan’s skyline.

While he missed the views from his London flat, this was home. He knew it. Every time he came home since he’d moved away, he felt New York’s pull grow stronger. Even his inner wolf, the animal inside every one of his kind, knew it. Which was probably one of the reasons he chose to stay away. It made his wolf unhappy, but it wasn’t the one in charge of their body.

“Tell me you’ve got a solution to our little political problem across the pond,” a familiar voice said, interrupting his thoughts.

Zac folded his arms over his chest and turned around. “I know you think I’m brilliant when it comes to business, but I’m afraid even I can’t help what’s happening over there. Rest assured, we’re putting things in place for any eventuality.”

“I know you are,” Lucas Anderson, one of his oldest friends, answered. “You’re always one step ahead of everyone.” He held two whiskey glasses in his hand and offered one to Zac.

“Well, as Chief Operating Officer of Fenrir Corporation’s London office, it is my job to be one step ahead.” Zac accepted the glass. “And soon, I guess, I’ll be reporting to you?”

“Ah, he told you?” Lucas’ face was inscrutable and his strange, mismatched eyes—one blue and the other green—remained cool and distant. But that was how his friend had always been. He never showed any of his cards.

“Yes, your dad mentioned it, but everyone knows it was inevitable.”

Lucas took a sip of the amber liquid from the glass in his hand. “Speaking of which …” He motioned to the older man and woman standing in the middle of room. “I think they’re ready to make the announcement.”

Zac followed Lucas’ lead and moved closer to the vast penthouse’s living room. As Alpha of New York and CEO of a multinational corporation, Grant Anderson could certainly afford to live in such a lush place. Not that he didn’t know such luxuries himself; he grew up in the next building over in a similar apartment. Zac’s father, after all, was the New York clan’s Beta or second-in-command.

“Thank you everyone for coming here.” Grant gazed down at his wife and Lupa, Frankie, beside him. “I know you all probably still have a hangover from the holiday parties and gatherings, so I appreciate you making the time.”

This was an informal gathering for close friends and family, but still, there were over twenty people gathered tonight, including Zac’s parents, and Grant’s sister and brother-in-law, and of course, the various children who were still in town after the holidays or could make it, including two of Zac’s own siblings.

Grant continued. “As you all know, I’ve been serving as Alpha of New York and CEO of Fenrir Corp. for over three decades now. Despite all the ups and downs, I wouldn’t have had it any other way.” He smiled down at his wife and then pulled her to his side. “But, as with many things, it must come to an end. I’ll be making the formal announcement in a few days, but I wanted you all to be the first to know. I’ll be stepping down as CEO of Fenrir Corp. as well as Alpha. And I’m naming Lucas as my successor.”

Zac looked at his friend in disbelief. Grant had told him that he was stepping down as CEO, but not as Alpha. While it wasn’t impossible, it was rare for an Alpha to abdicate, as the position was for life. Lucas’ face remained impassive, though he took everyone’s cheers and congratulations in stride.

“And to add to our big news for tonight, I’ll be stepping down as Alpha of New Jersey as well,” Frankie announced. “Adrianna will be taking my place.”

Lucas’ twin sister, Adrianna’s mouth tightened into a line, though she answered the congratulations given to her graciously. When their eyes met, Adrianna sighed and shrugged her shoulders.

Zac raised his glass to her, and she rolled her eyes. Interesting. The New Jersey clan was matriarchal, and thus the title of Lupa was passed to the eldest daughter. However, since Frankie had married Grant, Adrianna and all her siblings grew up in New York.

With the Jersey clan growing, however, Frankie had to spend more time in her territory, which meant that Adrianna would most likely have to do the same, or even move there. For someone who grew up in Manhattan, moving to the burbs of Jersey was akin to a death sentence, which is probably why Adrianna didn’t look ecstatic at the thought of becoming Jersey’s Alpha.

“You look so serious, Zac. Penny for your thoughts?”

“For you, they cost nothing.” Zac smiled at the petite redhead approaching him. “Enjoying the party, Mom?”

Cady Vrost smiled at her son. Even after all these years, she still looked young for her age—her hair remained a vibrant copper red and her green eyes sparkled with vitality. “I am.”

A tall, blond man came up behind her and slipped an arm around her waist. “Well, if it isn’t the most beautiful woman in the room.” Cady laughed when he kissed her temple. “Son,” Nick Vrost said. “I’m glad to see you here. You know you can stay with us whenever you’re in town, right?”

“The hotel Fenrir puts me up in is fine,” Zac said. “Besides, it’s not like I don’t ever see you when I’m in town. We have dinner almost every other day.”

“And all the other days?” Cady inquired. “Going on dates?”

“Sowing wild oats?” Nick added.

“If I’m sowing any oats, you won’t be hearing about it,” he answered. In truth, it had been a long time since he’d dated anyone. It’s not that he didn’t like women; he’d had plenty of experience when he was younger. But now, at the grand old age of thirty-one, sleeping around felt … empty. Looking at his parents, the way they acted around each other, he couldn’t help but feel envy for what they had.

Ridiculous, of course. Nick and Cady had something few had. For one thing, they were True Mates, a rare type of relationship with their kind. They were fated to be together, and although only two Lycans could produce another Lycan child, if at all, True Mates were different. Because they were destined to be together, such a pairing produced a pure Lycan child. He and his siblings were all pure Lycan, even though Cady was human. There were other things about True Mate pairings he had learned, but since it wasn’t something on his radar, that particular lesson didn’t really stick much in his mind.

“So,” Nick said. “What do you think, son? Of Grant’s announcement?”

“All this excitement,” Cady added. “Change is coming, but I think it’ll be good.”

“So, what brought this about?” Zac asked. “Grant’s not having some kind of late life crisis, is he?” As the New York clan’s Human Relations liaison and Grant’s right-hand woman, Cady Vrost knew anything and everything that went when it came to both clan and Fenrir business.

She chuckled. “Nothing like that at all. But times have changed, you know? Sure, the existence of Lycans is still a secret from the human world, but it’s not like the Middle Ages when Lycans feared for their lives or had clan wars. We’re not even at war with the witches and warlocks. We’ve had peace for the last few decades. Grant thought it was time for new blood and to finally retire to that Italian villa he and Frankie have been dreaming about for so long.”

“I suppose if anyone deserves some rest, it’s them.” Still, this was an unprecedented move. The most powerful Alpha and Lupa in the world retiring their positions. He wondered how this would ripple through the rest of the Lycan world.

Nick looked his son straight in the eyes. “They’re not the only ones.”

His father was never one to waste words, so it was pretty clear to Zac what he was implying. “You’ve never mentioned anything about retiring.” His father loved being Beta and head of Fenrir Corp.’s security department, as well as being in charge of the elite Lycan Guard who protected the Alpha.

“Well, Grant and Frankie’s decision got us thinking,” Cady said. “It’s all in the early stages, I assure you.”

Nick gave him a meaningful look. “But since Lucas is moving up to CEO, he’s going to need someone to fill in his position as COO. Here in New York.”

Ah, there it was. He and his father rarely butted heads; that was more his youngest brother Xavier’s style. However, his decision to stay in London and become the head of the office there had rankled Nick Vrost. And he made no secret about wanting his eldest son to come home.

“This is all news to me,” Zac said. “I haven’t heard any offers.”

“Well—”

“Nick,” Grant called, waving his hand. “A moment, please.”

“I’ll be right back.” He flashed Zac a look that said, we’re not done talking about this, before walking toward the Alpha’s direction.

“You know he wants the best for you.” Cady placed a hand on his arm.

“I know.” He covered her hand with his.

“We miss you a lot.”

“I miss you too, Mom.”

“And I know you miss him.” Cady paused.

Zac squeezed his mother’s hand, as if doing so would stop the way his chest tightened. “It’s been five years.”

“Vasili was special to all of us.”

His father’s grandfather, Vasili Vrost, had raised Nick when his parents died. The old man had been a big part of their lives, and he and Zac had been particularly close. When he passed away, it felt like a part of him died as well.

“Before I married your father, I lost someone too. My father. He was the only family I had at that point.”

He had heard about his mother’s father, Luther Gray, but Cady didn’t talk much about his death. “Does it go away? The missing?”

“I’m still not sure.” She gave him a sad smile. “But you know Vasili wouldn’t have wanted you to leave because of him.”

“I didn’t,” Zac said. Well, partly, but there were other reasons too. Speaking of which …

“Zac,” Nick was dragging Lucas along. “I was just telling Lucas our good news.”

“You’ve served the New York clan as long as my dad has. Both of you.” He pulled Cady in for a hug. “I was hoping you would both be here to guide me, but I understand your reasons, and you deserve to enjoy your lives too.”

“We’re not going away right away,” Cady said. “We’ll be here for your transition.”

“But eventually you’ll need to find someone to help you. A good Beta will ensure you can focus on more important things.”

And there it was again. It was no secret that Nick had always hoped Lucas would pick Zac to be his Beta someday. It was a great honor of course, and Nick was the first of his family to be Beta. Unlike Alpha, which was a title passed from father to son, a clan’s Beta was chosen. In the olden times, it was the strongest warrior, though these days the Alpha picked the best candidate based on his or her needs.

Lucas flashed Zac a meaningful look before clearing his throat. “No one knows that better than you, Nick. I look forward to receiving advice from both you and Cady when the time comes for me to choose.”

“We’ll be here.” Nick took his wife’s arm. “Cady, love, I think Alynna and Alex wanted to discuss something about dinner plans next week. Let’s go and have a chat.”

“Of course.” Cady squeezed her son’s arm. “I’ll see you before you leave on Sunday?”

“We’ll have dinner,” Zac assured his mom. With that, Nick and Cady excused themselves and walked toward Alynna and Alex Westbrooke, who were chatting with Frankie and Adrianna by the fireplace.

“Why does this feel like a bad blind date?” Lucas asked with a raised brow.

Lucas never made jokes, so Zac was surprised to see the barely contained mirth in his friend’s eyes. “Because it kind of is. Sorry, I hope I didn’t put you on the spot.”

“Not at all,” Lucas said. “You know, if you don’t want to be Beta, I could choose someone else. You don’t even have to put your name in the hat.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to be Beta,” Zac began. “It’s just …”

“Feels like you don’t have a choice in the matter?”

Despite being one of his oldest friends, Zac had never told Lucas his reservations about the position. But perhaps that’s what made Lucas a natural leader—his ability to read those around him. “Being Beta was my father’s life. He loved it. It was the one thing he had to earn, not one given to him because of his background or money.”

“And you? You don’t think you have to earn it?”

He laughed. “I know I have to earn it. And work at it. I’m just …” What could he say? He had his reasons, but he wasn’t quite ready to voice them out yet.

“Look, I won’t choose you if you don’t want it, Zac.” Lucas’ gaze bore into him. “But I would like you to consider taking over for me as Chief Operating Officer of Fenrir Corp., here in New York.”

That was the next step in the career ladder for him, of course. “Let’s talk about it another time. For now, go and have your moment in the limelight. Enjoy it.”

Lucas frowned. “You know me better than that.”

Zac smirked. Lucas hated the limelight even more than his father. “Right. Well I—” He stopped short when he saw one of the Lycan security guys briskly walk toward his father. The burly man leaned down and whispered in Nick’s ear. His father frowned and said a few words back.

“Hold on,” he said to Lucas, then made his way across the room. He wasn’t sure why, exactly, but he felt a strange urge to find out what was wrong.

“Dad?”

Nick and Cady were speaking in hushed tones. “Yes, son?”

“Everything okay?”

His parents looked at each other. “It’s fine, Zac,” Cady said. “Clan business.”

“Someone causing trouble.” Nick’s face was drawn into a scowl.

“Someone we know?” Zac asked.

“Oh yeah, we know her.”

Cady shot her husband a warning look. “Nick. It’s not like this is a regular occurrence.” She turned to Zac. “Actually, maybe Zac would like to join us? See what it is we do?”

“Join you?” Zac asked. He knew what his mother and father did for the clan, of course, but he’d never actually been in the thick of the action.

“That’s not a bad idea. What do you say, son?”

Zac supposed there was nothing to lose. “All right.”

“Great.” Nick took the phone out of his pocket. “I’ll call Meredith. You guys tell Grant and Frankie that we’re leaving a little earlier that expected.”

“Meredith?” Zac asked. “Why does he need to call in his second-in-command? If this is dangerous—”

“Not at all,” Cady assured him. “We need her for other reasons. C’mon, Zac. We should go as soon as possible.”

 

Coming January 16, 2019

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Preview: A Twist of Fate

True Mates Generations

Raw and Uncorrected

May contain errors

 

“Yo! Girly, you’re late.”

Astrid Jonasson stopped in her tracks and cringed. She pivoted on her heel and faced her boss. “Yeah, sorry about that, Mr. G! The L-train’s running late again.”

Vito Garavaggio took a drag of his cigar and blew out a puff of smoke, then took it out of his mouth and pointed it at Astrid. “That’s the third time this week. Why don’t ya leave earlier? You know that train’s always late, especially in this weather.”

“I just … forgot.” She breathed through her mouth, trying not to inhale the acrid haze Mr. G’s Cuban was creating in the tiny hallway. “I will next time.”

“I swear to God, girly, they could invent a machine that can transport you from one place to another like in those TV shows, you’d still be late.”

She tried not to let the irony of her boss’ words faze her. “I won’t do it again, Mr. G.”

“See that you don’t.” He placed his meaty hands on his fat belly before turning around and waddling away.

With her enhanced Lycan hearing, Astrid could clearly hear him muttering under his breath about if I didn’t need her and if the girls didn’t like her so much. She let out a relieved sigh and sprinted down the hallway.

“Hey, Astrid,” Coco greeted her as she entered the girls’ dressing room. “Mr. G got on your case again for being late?”

“Yeah,” she said as she shut the door behind her. “But, don’t you worry. I took care of him.”

Coco chuckled. “You know he’s a softie. Unlike other places I’ve worked at before, he actually cares about us. Now,” she stood up, carefully balancing herself on the sky-high heels on her feet. “Would you be a dear and take care of my top in the back there? That knot you do makes it easier to pull off.”

“Sure, Coco.” Astrid pushed the long, lustrous locks of dark hair aside and tied Coco’s bikini strings into a slip knot. “There ya go.”

“Thanks, babe. You’re the best!” Coco gave her a kiss on the cheek before sauntering out of the door.

“Good luck out there!”

If someone had told her that she’d someday be using her knowledge from doing a year of Girl Scouts helping strippers get dressed—and undressed—she would have laughed at them. But then again, with the way her life had turned out the last couple of years, she wasn’t surprised she ended up as a security guard at The Vixen Den, New York’s premiere gentleman’s club. Before this, she’d been a barista, dock worker, waitress at a Michelin star restaurant, bookstore clerk, and nanny, all before her grand old age of twenty-six.

Still, she considered this the best job she’d ever had. She could use her unique talents, and she loved her coworkers. Of course, it was also the best job she could never ever tell her family about, but that’s why she’d last told her mother that she was “working security during night shifts.” Which, to her credit, was entirely true. She just didn’t tell them where exactly.

Not that her parents or brothers were judgmental about these things, but a strip club—er, gentleman’s club—wasn’t exactly the most reputable of places to work, even if she was just hired on to protect the girls. She wasn’t judgmental of the girls’ jobs either, but personally, she drew a hard line at taking her clothes off to make a living.

As she crossed the room, all the girls greeted her happily. The Vixens—as they were called—loved the fact that she was a woman, which was one of the reasons she’d been hired. The previous bodyguard Mr. G had hired was apparently some mouth-breathing idiot who took his job way too seriously—as in, guarding the bodies of the women with his eyes. She had answered the help wanted ad because she’d been desperate to get out of that waitressing job, and she didn’t care where she would go next, as long as she never had to serve Upper Eastside bitches who had to special order everything and tipped horribly again.

Mr. G had eyed her suspiciously when she came in for the interview. “You’re certainly tall enough to be a bodyguard,” he said, “but can you protect my girls?” She proceeded to show him just how she could do it by putting one of his burly bouncers into a headlock, and she was hired on the spot. She knew her training would come in handy someday, and she did learn from the best.

“Astrid!” Fantasy, a tall, Amazonian-like girl with cornrows hopped over to her, her perky tits covered strategically by two glittering star-shaped nipple pasties. “I’ve missed you, girl!” She embraced Astrid, engulfing her in a flurry of feathers, Swarovski crystals, and a cloud of flowery perfume.

“How was the Bahamas?” Astrid asked.

“Amazing!” One of Fantasy’s regular clients had flown her down to the Bahamas for the holidays. “Oh my God, I have so much to tell you. But first,” she turned around and grabbed a gift bag that was sitting on her dressing table. “I got this for you. Merry Christmas!”

“For me? You shouldn’t have.” She accepted the bag and opened it. “Um, really, you shouldn’t have.” She took out the fabric gingerly and held it up. It was a dress—long and flowery, with sexy straps that showed off the back.

Fantasy crossed her arms over her boobs. “Girl,” she began. “This dress would look fabulous on you. With your height, that skin, those tits.” To emphasize, she poked Astrid in the chest.

Astrid groaned inwardly. Fantasy and some of the other girls at the club were always trying to give her a makeover. They kept telling her she was gorgeous and that if she wanted to, she could probably make a killing on tips if she ever wanted to get on stage. She thanked them gracefully, but continued declining their offers.

“Why do you keep hiding that bod under those clothes.” Fantasy tsked and shook her head.

Astrid frowned and looked down at her faded jeans and T-shirt. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”

“What’s wrong? Those mom jeans don’t exactly flatter your ass. And that shirt!” She pointed to the logo over the left side of her chest. “That company went out of business twenty years ago.”

“I got it at the thrift store,” she said defensively. “I like my clothes, okay? They’re comfortable, and they let me do my job.” She looked over at the table next to Fantasy’s. “Hey, where’s Petal?”

Fantasy swung her head around. “Hmm … I’m not sure. I just got off the stage and I swore she was here.”

A pit formed in the bottom of Astrid’s stomach. “I should go check on her.”

She asked a couple of the girls if they had seen Petal since the last set, but none of them could tell her where she was. She had shown up for her shift, but with the flurry of activity backstage and in the dressing rooms, no one noticed where she’d gone.

The pit in her stomach grew heavier. Petal had texted her this afternoon, saying she saw her old “boyfriend”—i.e., pimp—Leon, hanging around outside her apartment again. Astrid didn’t see the text until she was on her way to work, and though she texted back, she hadn’t heard from her.

Astrid had never met Leon, but according to Petal’s stories, he was a piece of shit. He was mad when Petal broke up with him, and furious when she started dancing at The Vixen Den and made more money than she ever did working for him.

Apparently, the asshole had been trying to intimidate her, and even showed up at the club one day. A couple of the bouncers were able to scare him away, but Mr. G told them all to keep an eye out for him; Leon was violent and didn’t take no for an answer. That was the only time Astrid had truly seen Mr. G look even remotely scared.

She searched almost every inch of the backstage and still there was no sign of Petal. As she walked back to the dressing room, she stopped and closed her eyes. Concentrate. She called on her inner wolf’s abilities, opening up her senses so she could try and sniff out Petal’s perfume from the various scents in the air. There, her wolf seemed to say. A faint trace of the brand she favored. She followed it, down the hall and toward the rear entrance to the alley where the girls would sometimes take their smoke breaks. When her ears picked up the sound of men laughing, and someone else sobbing, she froze.

Petal.

Dread formed in her chest, but was quickly replaced with adrenaline as her she-wolf pushed her toward the source of the sound. The wails grew louder and made the hairs on the back of her neck raise. She burst through the rear door, barely containing her superhuman strength as it flew open and slammed against the brick wall.

“What the fuck?”

The alley was well-lit, so she saw the three men clearly as they turned to her. The sound of a sob drew her attention, and she immediately noticed the small figure huddled in the corner.

“Petal!” she screamed, and sprinted over to where her friend lay in a heap on the dirty, snowy ground. “No. No!” She lifted her head up, brushing her hair aside. Blood flowed down from a gash on her eye and her lips were split. Tears flowed down her bruised and battered cheeks.

“A-a-astr—”

“Shh … don’t talk.” Rage began to boil in her veins. Her she-wolf too, was furious; Petal was one of theirs, to protect and keep.

Slowly, Astrid got to her feet, hands fisted at her sides. “You motherfuckers,” she said, turning around. “You all are gonna pay.”

The tallest and largest of them laughed. “And who’s gonna make us? You, little girl?”

The goon beside him licked his lips. “My man Leon over here,” he gestured to the third man, “said we could have a taste of his sweet Petal once he was done with her. You gonna join us too?”

“Enough,” Leon said, then spat on the ground. “This ain’t your business. I’m taking Petal with me and that’s final. Run along now and go back to your daddy on the Upper East Side.”

“Ha! I’m from Brooklyn, you motherfucking asshole.” Okay, so technically, she lived in gentrified Williamsburg and she was raised in Tribeca. “You’re not going to get away with this!”

“Jamal,” Leon barked. “Make sure she doesn’t get away and go blabbing to the cops.”

As the smaller of the men approached her, Astrid gritted her teeth. “I’m not trying to get away. And like I said,” she cracked her knuckles together, “you guys are going to pay.”

Jamal lunged at her, but Astrid easily ducked and lunged away. “Bitch, hold still!” he shouted. When he attempted to grab her again, she caught his wrists. “What the fuck? How are you so strong—ooowww!” He let out a string of curses as she twisted him around and forced him to his knees, bending his elbow into an unnatural position. “Fuck! Get this crazy chick off me!”

“For fuck’s sake!” Leon cried. “Monroe, give that bitch ass a hand!”

Monroe ambled toward her and Astrid acted on instinct. She knocked Jamal out with a fist to the side of his head, then grabbed the small vial she kept in the pocket of her jeans and threw it at the lumbering giant. A cloud of green smoke materialized in his face, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head before he landed on the ground with a heavy thud. Thank you, Dad and your cabinet of potions.

“What the hell did you do?” Leon’s voice was cold as ice. “Bitch! You’re going down.”

The sound of the gun cocking echoed through the alley. A split second passed before the loud explosion went off and once again, her instincts kicked in. She closed her eyes, and with a soft poof sound, she was behind Leon.

“What the—where?” Leon turned around, the gun in his hand still smoking from the shot he fired. “How the hell did you get there?”

By being a badass, motherfucking half-witch with the power to teleport. But she never got a chance to say it as her wolf ripped out of her skin. Leon had raised the gun to fire at her again, but her wolf sensed it and took over their body.

Astrid’s wolf was pure white with red eyes—a rare albino wolf. It was huge, twice the size of a normal wolf, but that was typical of Lycan shifters like her. The she-wolf landed on top of Leon, pinning him down, growling and gnashing its sharp teeth at the terrified man.

“Get off! Get off me!”

The smell of urine made Astrid gag. Coward. Her she-wolf wanted to rip his throat out for what he did to Petal. Make him pay, it seemed to roar.

“What the fuck?” A gasp and several shrieks made the she-wolf turn its enormous head. Shit.

Mr. G and several of the girls were standing in the doorway, their eyes wide with fright and shock as they stared at the wolf. Mother—

And of course, the stupid wolf chose that moment to withdraw, leaving Astrid in charge of their now-human body.

“Jesus H. Christ! Is that—Astrid?” Mr. G’s normal ruddy face went completely white.

“I … I … can explain,” she gasped and rolled off Leon. “Can someone please …” She looked down at her naked state.

“I got you, honey.” Fantasy sashayed over to her and took off the red fur-trimmed peignoir she was wearing over her negligee, then helped her put it on. She shivered visibly and rubbed her arms. “You okay? Jesus, how are you not freezing your ass off? You’re like a heater!”

The snow had stopped some time ago, but the temperatures had remained below zero. As a Lycan, Astrid could adjust her body’s temperature to suit the environment.

“Must be my Scandinavian blood. I—Petal!” She darted toward the girl, suddenly remembering her friend. “Petal, what—”

Petal screamed. “What are you? Stay away from me.” Her body shook, and her one good eye was wide as a saucer. “Someone, help, please!”

Astrid’s heart fell. “Petal, no, please—”

“Baby, it’s okay,” Coco soothed as she rushed over. “Oh dear. They did a number on you. It’s okay, it’s okay. Astrid, honey, you should … maybe just give her some distance, okay?”

She nodded numbly and got to her feet. This was that bastard’s fault. Leon!

Mr. G was standing over Leon, a booted foot to the man’s chest and the discarded gun pointed at his face. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned the man. “Someone, call 911.”

“No!” Astrid pleaded. “Please, no police!” Oh God, her secret would come out. Not just hers, but her entire clan. Her entire kind. Humans were not supposed to know about Lycans or witches. She was going to be in big trouble, as she happened to be both.

“But we have to get help,” Coco said. “For Petal.”

Astrid swallowed hard as she looked over at her friend. They were right; Petal needed medical attention now, and these guys had to get locked up. “I can get help,” she said, feeling the dread creep up in her.

“You got people to call?” Mr. G asked, raising a brow at her skeptically.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

 

Coming January 16 2019

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Chapter Two

A Mate for Jackson: Bad Alpha Dads

Unedited and RAW preview

Contains typos and subject to change 

 

Chapter Two

 

Jordan Matsumoto was the first person to enter the lab on the thirty-third  floor at the Fenrir Corporation Headquarters every weekday at seven thirty in the morning. Usually, she was also the last to leave, which served her just fine.

Flipping on the lights, Jordan walked over to her station in the far corner and slung her messenger bag on the back of the chair. She reached for the gallon squirt bottle of alcohol gel sanitizer on her desk and gave it two healthy squeezes. The subway was filthy after all. Germs. Yuck.

The antiseptic smell was acrid and burning, especially to her sensitive Lycan senses. She could practically see her inner wolf cowering and covering its nose up with its paws, but ignored it, like she always did. The strong alcohol scent gave her a sense of relief as she imagined the germs on her skin screaming as they died. She squirted more on a tissue and wiped it over her workstation.

Die, germs die! Ha ha!

Satisfied with the level of cleanliness around her, she sat down and turned her computer on, listening to the fans whirring to life as her screen lit up. Immediately, she opened the program she had been working on, ignoring the various pings and dings of her email and the Fenrir Corporation intranet messaging system as her computer connected to the network. They could wait. Other people could always wait. But science couldn’t.

Growing up in the San Francisco Lycan clan, the only thing she wanted to do was become a scientist. She went to school, got good grades, graduated top of her class and went to Berkeley on a scholarship where she got her Bachelor’s in Biochemistry. She was two years into her research grad classes when she got the call of a lifetime.

Dr. Jade Creed—yes, the Dr. Jade Creed, genius Lycan scientist who held two PhDs at the age of twenty—was looking for a new research assistant. Specifically, a Lycan research assistant, to join her team in New York where they studied all things related to magic and science.

It was her cousin and Alpha, Liam Henney, who called Jordan personally. Would she be able to leave her current position and move to New York right away? Hells yeah. Not only was Dr. Creed one of her idols and possibly lady crushes, but the chance to work with her was a dream come true.

And it was a dream, working alongside Dr. Creed. She tried to play it cool, of course, but she couldn’t help but gush and fangirl at her idol the first day she walked into the lab. And every day, she happily skipped into work, looking forward to be working with a genius. Her coworkers thought her weird and avoided her, but that was fine with Jordan. She never did learn to play with others, and she was too damned old at twenty-six to start now.

Another hour passed and Jordan busied herself, walking around the lab and checking on the various experiments in the stations, and finishing up some tasks she had left for today—cleaning out some supplies, running the centrifuge, making sure the charts were up-to-date. When she was satisfied with her work, she went back to her desk. More messages had piled up, and she ignored them. She also heard a sound—was that a rattling—from somewhere in the lab. The hairs on the back of her neck raised and her inner wolf whined at her. She ignored it, of course. Like she always did. Her wolf had no place in science.

“Hello? Jordan, did you hear what I said?”

Jordan raised her head from the screen and looked up at the frowning face of her boss. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in, Dr. Creed. Did you need something?”

Jade Creed sighed and rubbed a hand on her temple. “I asked if you had those samples ready for me. The one we put in yesterday?”

“As a matter of fact, I did,” Jordan said in a smug voice. She stood up and wiped her hands down her lab coat. “Actually, I took them out of the UV chamber and put them into the centrifuge.” She nodded over to the machine, a mere six feet away to their right.

Dr. Creed’s eyes went wide. “You what?”

“I said I put them in the—”

But Jordan didn’t get to finish her sentence. A loud bang filled the air and everything went black.

* * *

When Jordan’s eyes fluttered open, the first thing she felt was the shot of pain down her side. “Sonofa—”

“You’re awake.”

Her vision was blurry and she had to blink a few times. When the two indistinct shapes in front of her merged into one, she knew her vision had returned to normal. “Dr. Creed? What—ow!” This time, the pain wasn’t as bad, though she could feel the bones and skin knitting back together. It was an uncomfortable sensation, like an itch she couldn’t scratch.

“Stay down, Jordan,” Dr. Creed said, pushing her back on the scratchy sheets.

Jordan looked around her, at the white walls, the harsh overhead lighting, and the metal-framed bed she was lying on. She must have been in the infirmary at Fenrir. “What happened?” She raised her arms, eyes widening as realized they were covered in bandages. “The last thing I remember was that we were standing in the lab and—”

“A big explosion?” Dr. Creed finished. “When the centrifuge blew up?”

“B-b-blew up?” That explained why her she had blacked out and why her body currently felt like some bizarre arts and crafts project and Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein had a love child. If she had been human, she would be in the hospital for weeks, if she survived at all. Of course, that didn’t explain why Dr. Creed, who had been standing right in front of her during the explosion, didn’t even have a scratch on her. “Er, are you all right, Dr. Creed?”

The other woman put her hands on her hips. “I’m fine. Did you not read the emails? Or talk to the other lab assistants?”

“Huh?”

Dr. Creed sighed. “I sent out three emails that no one was to use the centrifuge today. It was going to be picked up for repairs.”

“I-I-I must have missed it.” Shit. Oh, God. Someone could have been hurt. No, wait, someone had been hurt. Namely, her. “I’m sorry. I mean, I take full responsibility.” Her voice broke. Dr. Creed was going to fire her. Or worse.

“Jade, what the hell happened?”

The voice was gruff and made the hairs on the back of her neck raise. She gripped the paper-thin sheet in her hands, her knuckles growing white as the air in the room grew thick.

Yup. Definitely worse. Her day really was turning to shit. Sebastian Creed, husband and mate to her boss and as it happens, the only known dragon shifter in the world, stood in the doorway, his face glowering.

“I’m fine, Sebastian,” Dr. Creed turned around to reassure her mate. “It’s all fine.”

Creed’s steps thundered as he went over to his mate and pulled her in for a tight hug. “Fine?” he asked, his rough voice sending a chill down Jordan’s spine. “I had to hear from Meredith that there was an explosion in the lab and you tell me everything is fine?” The air in the lab was choking now, and Jordan swore she could smell sulfur.

Dr. Creed pulled away from him and spread her arms. “As you can see, I’m unhurt. Not a scratch on me.”

“How the hell did that happen, anyway?” Jordan slapped a hand over her mouth when the words just spilled out. But she couldn’t help herself. “What the heck is going on?”

Creed’s eyes flashed gold for a second before returning to its normal color. Steel gray eyes pierced right into hers and looked down at the bandages on her arms. Then, his head swung over to his wife. “Jade? Are you …?”

Dr. Creed’s pretty face lit up. “Yes.”

Creed let out a whoop and lifted his mate into his arms, pulling her in for a passionate kiss. “Darlin’, I’m so fucking happy right now. I don’t even care what happened.”

The mood in the room lightened, and Jordan felt like she could breathe again. “Uhm, could someone explain what’s going on?”

The lovers pulled apart and Dr. Creed’s cleared her throat delicately, the blush on her cheeks deepening. “Sebastian, why don’t you pick up Dee from the day care and we can all go home for lunch? I need to take care of a few things first, though.”

“Whatever you want, darlin’. I’ll meet you at the car.” He planted a firm kiss on her lips before he turned and walked out the door.

Once the door closed behind them, Dr. Creed turned to Jordan. “You’re extremely lucky that I happen to be pregnant at the moment.”

“Oh.” She had heard about this phenomenon but had never actually seen it for herself. Whenever a True Mate female, Lycan or human, was pregnant, she was invulnerable to any kind of harm. While it might take a regular Lycan like Jordan another few hours or days to recover fully from injuries, all of Dr. Creed’s wounds would have healed in an instant. “Thank God, then.”

“Indeed.” Dr. Creed took a deep breath and walked over to her. “Jordan, you know you’re a brilliant scientist and a hard worker.”

“I am?” Of course she knew that, but hearing it from Dr. Creed made her giddy.

“Yes. In fact, I see a bit of myself in you.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe a bit too much.”

Dr. Creed didn’t seem happy at the comparison and Jordan’s heart dropped into her stomach. “Am I fired?”

“I really should let you go,” Dr. Creed began. “You refuse to work with your coworkers, or even listen to their opinions.”

“Science isn’t about opinions,” Jordan retorted with an indignant sniff. 

“What I’m saying is that you can’t seem to play nice with other people. It’s not just about what happened today. The other researchers raised their concerns about you. You’re always defying protocol and procedure. And you never consult with anyone else, even when I ask you to. And I can’t have that here.”

Jordan always knew she was different. Even her wolf was … odd. She wasn’t like all the other Lycan children growing up. They all loved shifting, being outdoors, playing and roughhousing, while Jordan preferred to stay home and read books or watch documentaries. Wolves were supposed to be social creatures, but she preferred her own company. And frankly, other people were idiots. “I’ll pack my things then, as soon as I’m—”

She held her hand up. “No, Jordan, that’s not what I meant.”

“It’s not?” Now she was confused again.

Dr. Creed shook her head. “I don’t want to lose you. Frankly, I can’t afford to. Do you know how many Lycans specialize in biochemistry?”

“Not a lot?”

“Two, Jordan,” Dr Creed said. “Me and you.”

“Oh.” Good. She was needed around here, then.

“But I can’t risk my lab and the lives of the people around us. So, I’m going to put you in time-out.”

“Time-out?” What was Dr. Creed talking about?

A determined look crossed her boss’ face. “You’re going away for a while.”

“I have to take a vacation?” Oh, God, she hated vacations. It didn’t matter where. Sand from the beach always got everywhere, as did dirt in the mountains. Cities were too dirty and noisy, and forget the country—her allergies would blow up.

“No, Jordan, I’m sending you on a special retreat,” Dr. Creed said. “I just heard about it from Sebastian. A new program the Alpha is starting with another clan. In West Virginia.”

“West Virginia? Er, will it be at a hotel or conference center?” Oh, God, please say it’s going to be at a nice, air-conditioned luxury resort.

Dr. Creed shook her head. “I’m afraid not. In fact, it’s all going to be done outdoors.”

“I can’t go,” she stated flatly. “I’m deathly allergic.”

“To what?”

“To everything?”

Dr. Creed chortled. “Excuse me? You’re a Lycan. We’re not allergic to anything. Especially not the outdoors.”

“I can give you a doctor’s note. In fact, I’ll give you six doctor’s notes.” Just the thought of being in the outdoors made her want to break out in hives. And then her chest started to hurt. “And I have asthma.”

“You’re joking!” Dr. Creed said in an incredulous voice. “Jordan, you’re being silly. Stop it.”

“I swear, it’s true.” Her parents had brought her to a dozen Lycan and human doctors when she was growing up. Most of the Lycan doctors said it was psychosomatic and she would grow out of it. Her human doctors found nothing wrong with her—or so they said—but the medicines they prescribed seem to work on her. All her doctors seemed to think it was psychosomatic, but they weren’t the ones who felt the symptoms.

“Well, you’re just going to have to suck it up and bring all the medication you can carry. Because you’re going and that’s final.”

“You can’t make me.”

She ignored Jordan’s protests. “You’ll be paid the entire time, of course, plus if you finish this program,” she lowered her voice, “I won’t tell my husband you caused the explosion.”

Jordan groaned. Her options were to go on this stupid retreat or let the world’s only fire-breathing dragon shifter know she almost killed his mate. The choice was clear. “When do I leave?”

 

Coming December 4

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