Raw and Unedited

Subject to change

Shadow wolf

Book 7 of the True Mates Generations Series

 

CHAPTER TWO

Mika Westbrooke hadn’t even opened her eyes that morning when that dark heavy feeling came over her.

Today wasn’t going to be a good day. Most days were okay, some were good, some were bad, but she knew this particular day would be terrible.

She had stayed up the night before, willing herself not to sleep as if doing so would stop the inevitable that this particular day would bring. Exhaustion had come over her, and sleep eventually took over, which meant she had missed her alarm.

Any other day and she would have cursed and jumped out of bed, scrambling to get ready. But then again, any other day she would have never missed her alarm. As head of the Guardian Initiative, she didn’t have the luxury to dillydally, not when their missions were so critical.

Not today. Today of all days, she took her time. Sending Nick Vrost a message that she would be running late, she took her time getting ready, as the dark fog that seemed to surround her today made her move sluggishly, not caring about the time.

Eventually, she got herself out of her apartment in The Enclave, drove herself to the Brooklyn Bridge HQ, and finally made it into the office only an hour late. She told Nick to start without her, so she wasn’t surprised that they were already in the middle of the meeting when she walked into Lizzie’s office. Not wanting to disturb them, she quietly crept inside, but unfortunately, the first words she heard cracked the already precarious hold she had on her emotions.

“I’m more of a lover than a fighter.”

“You’ll follow orders, Delacroix,”

“I’ll follow your orders, but I don’t have any skin in this game, so don’t expect me to give more than I have to or give a rat’s ass about this war of yours.”

Anger reverberated in her chest. Who the fuck did this man think he was? Before she knew it, the caustic words flew out of mouth. “Actually, everyone’s got skin in this game. The goddamn mages are out to destroy every last Lycan on earth.”

And then something happened that caught her off guard.

Dark eyes slammed into her, making her … feel things she never thought she’d feel again. Never wanted to feel again, at least not with anyone new. Heat uncurled from her stomach, and first, she thought it was anger, but no. It was that uncomfortable feeling of need.

Get a grip, Westbrooke. He’s just another cocky male you’ll have to deal with.

This was normal, she told herself. Because the asshole in question making her feel this way was unusually good looking. Pitch-black hair that matched his eyes. Tight white T-shirt stretched over the broadest shoulders she’d ever seen. Tattoos covered what was exposed of his enormous arms. And, despite the dark beard that covered half his face, the grin making his sensuous mouth spread only made him more devilishly handsome. The man stood up and offered his hand.

Seemingly unperturbed by her reprimand, his smile grew wider. “Marc Delacroix, nice to make your acquaintance. And you are …?”

Ah, so this was Delacroix, Nick’s recruit. “Your boss,” she shot back, arms stiffly at her sides. “And your worst nightmare if I ever catch you slacking off.”

Now that wiped that infuriating smile off his face. “I think we got off on the wrong foot, cher. You don’t know anythin’ about me.”

Her eyes narrowed at him. “I know enough about you, Delacroix.” Nick had briefed her, of course. She knew the entire story of how the Cajun had come to New York and how desperate he had been to leave his former clan. Quite simply, they had him by his balls. “I don’t care what you do on your off time, but when you’re here, you’re going to keep your head straight. A single mistake could cost the life of one my guys, and if that happens, I’m sending you back to whatever swamp you crawled out of.”

She could feel everyone in the room practically flinch at her words, and much later, she would see how harsh she was. But not now. She couldn’t take this maelstrom of emotion, not today of all days.

Delacroix’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. “Understood, ma’am.”

Her she-wolf scratched at her furiously. What the hell is wrong with you? “Welcome back, Jacob.” She pushed her wolf away, ignoring its protests. “I’m happy you decided to join us.”

He grinned. “Can’t let you guys have all the fun, now, can I?”

Mika was glad the youngest of the Martin siblings decided to join the Guardian Initiative, as they needed every advantage they could get. He’d been on her shortlist of candidates because of his powers but was disappointed to learn he’d been assigned to guard the newly crowned Queen Desiree. “Great. Now that I have everyone here, maybe we can get you up to speed and continue with our morning briefing.”

Meetings at the Guardian Initiative were informal affairs, as they didn’t really have the time or space to conduct elaborate gatherings. They usually met in her office upstairs, but she wanted to get this over with. “Let’s start with the bad news …”

Compartmentalization had never been a problem for her, something she’d been thankful for, especially in the last two years. That and the fact that she needed to do something—in this case, fight the mages—to keep her mind and hands busy or she would have sunk into a deep depression.

Today, however, she found herself distracted and annoyed. When Nick began to update them with news from the Alpha’s office, she couldn’t concentrate, as she felt like she was being watched. Turning her head, her gaze clashed with dark eyes. Heat crept up her neck, but she ignored him. But it didn’t do any good as she felt him staring at her, even if she didn’t look his way.

“.…for now, we’ll keep an eye on the situation.” Nick turned to her. “Anything else, Mika?”

“There’s the Russian situation.” Ugh, that particular subject was going to ruin her day further. “But that’s something you, the Alpha, and I need to talk about.”

“I’ll talk to him, and we can convene on the matter.”

“Great. Wyatt,” she began. “Get our new guys settled in. Jacob, I know you can stay with your parents, but we have living quarters here for anyone who wants to stay. It’s not a five-star hotel, but it’s clean and comfortable, similar to the ones at Fenrir.”

“I’ll take ’em,” he said eagerly.

“You just don’t want to live with Mom and Dad,” Lizzie snickered which earned her a dirty look.

“You’ll be staying there too,” Nick said to Delacroix.

“Lucky me,” the Cajun muttered. “And you, cher? Do we get to be neighbors? Perhaps I can borrow a cup of sugar sometime, oui?”

Desire shot straight to her core at the inviting tone of his voice. The nerve of this bastard! Ignoring him, she pivoted on her heel and walked out of Lizzie’s office. As soon as she was far away enough, she took a deep breath of the artificial air-conditioned air, trying to calm herself. Her inner wolf, on the other hand, paced back and forth, almost chastising her.

How could someone she’d only met barely an hour ago tie her up in knots and make her wolf behave strangely? She’d always felt at peace with her inner animal, but this was the first time it seemed defiant, like a teenager testing its boundaries. However, it was like she was the teen. All hormones and no sense.

It’s the lack of sex, she told herself. More than two years of celibacy was catching up with her. She was horny, and he was the first male she’d met that she wasn’t related to or had worked with in her capacity as head of GI. Not yet anyway. But that would change soon.

She must have been standing there too long because a group of people standing by the watercooler in the corner was staring at her. Narrowing her eyes, she shot them glares of reproach, making them scurry back to their cubicles. With a silent satisfied harrumph, she strode toward the elevators and jabbed the call button. As she waited, that feeling came over her again—that someone was watching her.

A frisson of excitement shot up her spine, but she ignored it. Her enhanced hearing could pick up his heavy footsteps coming toward her. “Come on you damned thing,” she muttered under her breath at the doors.

“Cher, I think we—”

Maybe God was looking down at her today because the silver doors slid open, and she hurried inside and pressed the button for the top floor. As she turned around, the sight of Delacroix’s surprised face was the last thing she saw as the doors shut.

With a relieved sigh, she leaned against the wall, pressing her forehead to the cool metal. What was it about him that made her both uneasy and thrilled? Why was her inner wolf acting so strange? God, this was the worst timing for her to be feeling this way. Please, not today.

 

Shadow Wolf

Releases Feb 18, 2020

PRE-ORDER NOW on Amazon

ONLY 2.99

(Goes up to 3.99 on release day)

 

Raw and Unedited

Subject to change

Shadow wolf

Book 7 of the True Mates Generations Series

 

CHAPTER ONE Part 2

It didn’t take too long for Delacroix and Jacob to settle their affairs in Zhobghadi. While they had been integrated into life at the palace, there was no one either would consider a close friend. They were well-acquainted with the Almoravid, the elite superhuman guards who protected the royal family, having been training with them, but the language barrier made it difficult to make friends.

There were two people that had been difficult to say goodbye to. The first was Princess Amaya, King Karim’s young sister. The princess had been distraught, as he and Jacob watched over her as closely as they did the queen, and she had come to think of them as “her” bodyguards and friends too. She had cried when she heard the news, and even begged them to stay, but eventually, she had accepted it, though only because Queen Desiree promised to bring her to New York for a visit during the holidays.

The second person was Ramin, King Karim’s ward, whom the two Lycans had taken under their wing. The young man was strong and ambitious, and was determined to join the ranks of the Almoravid some day. He and Jacob had trained the eager young man, and Delacroix could already tell that he would achieve his goal and maybe even become captain of the guard. Ramin took the news of their impending departure well, thanking them both for the the additional training and sparring that would surely help him within the coming months as he prepared for his exams.

There was a small, private feast in their honor the night before they left. The captain of the Almoravid had been there, as well as most of the palace staff that they worked with. There was much feasting and drinking, and during the after party, Jacob had merely shook his head and laughed at him when he had rebuffed the advances of a particular amorous and drunk handmaiden who tried to put her hands down his pants and gently nudged her away.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like women or sex. Once upon a time, he was up to his ears in willing women. And although he enjoyed the flirting and attention still, since he left Pont Saint-Louis, he kept his focus razor sharp on his eventual goal of freedom. Sure, he’d let Nick Vrost and the other Lycans think he was some kind of flirt, but the truth was, he hadn’t been with a woman for more than a year. Being considered a shallow man whore was just one more way he was supposed to blend into the background—stay out of sight, unimportant, and serve his time until he could gain what he wanted most. Sex and women were too messy, and there was a danger of forming an attachment that could distract him.

“You okay man?” Jacob asked.

Jolted out his thoughts, he turned to his companion. “Oui, mon ami.”

“We’re about to land.” The young man clicked his seatbelt on. “I can’t believe we’ll be landing in New York in a couple of minutes. Man, I’m going to miss living like this.” His hands gripped the soft, buttery leather of his seat.

Sebastian Creed himself had sent his private plane to pick them up, saving them to trouble of several connecting flights, seeing as Zhobghadi had no international airport. No expense had been spared on the interior of the plane, nor with the service and food. This was the only second time he’d flown private and probably the last. “Should have had one more glass of Champagne,” he joked.

Landing was smooth, and immigration formalities at the private airstrip in New Jersey where they landed had been conducted on-board as the plane sat on the tarmac. Gathering up his duffle bag, he followed Jacob out of the plane. As he descended down the steps, his gaze immediate went to the man standing next to the dark SUV, his arms crossed over his chest, obviously waiting for them. He was a couple inches taller than Delacroix and wore an expensive, well-fitting dark suit. He tried not to show any emotion as their eyes met, but it was hard not to bristle when confronted with those ice blue eyes that seem to bore into him.

“Welcome back.” Nick Vrost unfolded his arms. “Glad to see you both made it.”

His frosty gaze lingered on Delacroix, which made him snort loudly. As if he would back out on his word. A bargain was a bargain.

“Thanks for coming to greet us, Al Doilea,” Jacob said, using the honorific Lycans used for their Beta.

“Of course, though you might be disappointed to know I’m taking you straight to HQ. Your mother, in particular, was not happy you wouldn’t be coming home right away.”

Jacob winced. “I’ll be sure to visit her, er, soon.”

Delacroix suppressed a laugh. Mrs. Martin had seemed like a nice woman and all, at least from the short video chats where he’d said hello to her, Jacob felt smothered by his mother’s attentions. “I’m the baby of the family,” he had explained some time ago. “And she can’t seem to accept that I’m a grown man. Parents, you know?”

Actually he didn’t, but he didn’t say anything, since Jacob hadn’t known anything about his past at the time. Did he want a mother who would smother him with love and attention? At this point in his life, he wasn’t sure.

Vrost motioned for them to get into the SUV and soon they were already driving towards the city. “Are we headed to Fenrir Corp?” Jacob asked. The Fenrir Corporation building on Madison was not only the headquarters of the massive international conglomerate, but also unofficially, the New York Clan. Fenrir’s CEO, Lucas Anderson, was also their Alpha.

“Not quite.” Vrost didn’t elaborate, but kept his eyes on the road. As they approached the city, he couldn’t help but feel wonder as the skyline appeared ahead. While New York was only his temporary home, there was just something about it that was both intimidating and comforting, especially after a year of seeing nothing but sand for miles on end.

As the SUV emerged from the Lincoln tunnel, the vehicle went south, away from the Fenrir Corp building and The Enclave, the mini-city on the Upper West Side that served as the home for most of the New York Clan. He and Jacob looked at each other, but it was obvious Vrost would offer no other explanation.

They were soon in the trendy district of Tribeca, and the car turned east, the Brooklyn Bridge clearly ahead of them as they made their way through a maze of smaller side streets.

Delacroix frowned as they pulled into an alleyway with a dead end. “Where are we—mon dieux!”

Jacob, who had been sitting in the back, unbuckled his seatbelt and grabbed the front seat.“Mr. Vrost, what the—”

Vrost remained cool and calm as he stepped on the gas and the SUV sped up—straight toward the wall.

“You’re crazy!” Delacroix closed his eyes and braced himself, waiting for the impact—but there was none. “What the fuck?”

The vehicle screeched to a halt and when he opened his eyes and saw they were very much unharmed and not flat as pancakes against a brick wall, let out a soft curse. “You didn’t think to warn us first?”

Cool as a cucumber, Vrost took off his sunglasses, his ice blue eyes filled with what seemed like amusement. “And miss all the fun?” He unbuckled his seatbelt. “Welcome to the secret headquarters of the Guardian Initiative, gentlemen. Secret being the operative word, hence why I couldn’t tell you where we were headed. The wall we went through was one of the many magical enchantments we put in place to hide this place from humans and the mages.”

As they exited the vehicle, Delacroix looked around. They seemed to be in some kind of indoor garage, the only source of light coming from hanging overhead industrial lights. Vehicles were parked next to the SUV, including several motorcycles, two vans, an armored military vehicle, and even a Winnebago.

“Where the heck are we?” Jacob asked. “I mean, what part of Manhattan are we? Are we even still in New York?”

Vrost cocked his head. “Follow me.” He led them toward an elevator in the corner and pressed his palm against the sensor by the door. After a soft whirr and a high-pitched beep, the doors opened. He pointed forward. “After you.”

They stood in the elevator as Vrost pressed the second to the last button on the panel. The elevator ascended and a few seconds later, the doors opened and they stepped out. The space looked like a normal office, with desks and computers and people typing away at keyboards in their cubicles. But from the energy in the air, it was obvious there was more to this place than what it seemed.

“Whoah!” Jacob hurried over to one of the large windows. “We’re in the middle of the water. And that’s New York. And Brooklyn’s over there.” He looked at Vrost, his eyes wide. “Are we—”

“In one of the stone towers of the Brooklyn Bridge, yes.”

Delacroix followed Jacob, and peered out of the pane. However, there was something strange about this window. He poked a finger at the window. “This isn’t glass.”

Vrost shook his head. “No, it’s not. When we decided this would be our headquarters, one of the problems we encountered was that the entire structure was solid, which was great for defense, but that meant we couldn’t see what was going on outside. Plus, it made the place pretty gloomy. So, we installed 4K screens that have a direct feed to the outside to mimic windows.”

“Cool.” Jacob tipped his chin. “So this place is our war room.”

“You could say that. This floor is central operations. Above us is the actual war room and command, while we have the training rooms and dorms in the two floors below us.”

“How did you fit all that in the tower?” Jacob asked.

“Magic,” Vrost explained. “Daric was able to find a magic spell that could expand the space on the inside. I don’t know how it works and it cost us a pretty penny, but worth it. This place is more secure than Fort Knox. Now, I need to introduce you to some people, though you already know most of them, Jacob.” He led them to one of the enclosed offices and opened the door. It was a small, cramped space, filled with PC towers of varying sizes along one two sides of the room and a wall of monitors in the middle. There was a single desk in the middle that had a laptop, and a large, beat-up leather chair turned away from them.

“You’ve reached Acme Proctologists, where we promise you thoroughly good time. How may I direct your call?”

Vrost’s gaze slid heavenwards in an exasperating manner and cleared his throat. “Lizzie,” he said in a warning voice.

“…no really, sir … that’s right. Would you like to make an appointment?” The chair swiveled around, revealing its occupant—a cute redhead with sparkling blue eyes full of mischief as she spoke into a cell phone. “You don’t have to be shy, sir. All our doctors are gentle.”

“Lizzie,” Vrost repeated.

The woman—more like a girl, really—bit her lip as she tried to smother a giggle. “No need to take that tone with me, sir. I already deal with assholes all day.”

“Martin.” Vrost warned.

Martin? Delacroix turned to Jacob, who only gave him the same exasperated look on Vrost’s face.

With a delighted cackle, the redhead put the phone down. “Wha—Oh! Al Doilea!” She shot up from her seat, then froze when her gaze landed on Jacob. “And—Oh my god! Runt, you’re home!” Her face turned from embarrassment to shock to excitement as she launched herself as Jacob, leaping up at him to wrap her arms around his neck.

“Runt?” Delacroix asked as Jacob tried to untangle the young woman from his body.

“I—getoffmeyoucrazywoman! Argh! Stop!”

“Awww, can’t I express how much I’ve missed my baby brother?” She let go of him then punched him in the arm. “Nice to see you, Runt.”

Jacob scowled and rubbed his arm. “Don’t call me that. I’m more than foot taller than you and outweigh you by over a hundred pounds.”

“But you’ll always be the baby of the family.” Her face scrunched up as she pinched his cheeks.

Vrost cleared his throat. “I’ll leave you all to get acquainted while I round up Wyatt and Mika.”

“Oh, of course, Mr. Vrost.”

The Beta gave Delacroix a warning look before turning on his heel and leaving the office. The redhead turned to Delacroix. “I’m Lizzie Martin, head of tech around here and Jacob’s sister.”

“So I gathered.” Jacob had mentioned he had two siblings, but didn’t give any more details. He shook the female’s hand. “Marc Delacroix.”

“I thought that’s who you might be.” Arctic blue eyes peered up at him. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Dressed in a short plaid skirt, a t-shirt with a cartoon alpaca on the front, and knee-high boots, she looked out of place here, but he’d learned long ago not to judge people by their looks. He turned on his megawatt smile automatically, and his eyes darted up and down her curvaceous body. “Funny. Jacob’s never mentioned his sister was so … interestin’.”

“Keep those eyes at an appropriate level, Delacroix,” Jacob warned. “Unless you want me to pull them out of your sockets.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes and then pulled something out of her pocket—a lollipop, which she proceeded to unwrap and sucked it into her mouth. “Please, Jacob. I can take care of myself. You know the last time a guy tried anything funny, he ended up on the FBI’s Most Wanted list.”

He took a step closer. “Ah, you are giving me a challenge then?” Her scent was pleasant enough—a sweetness that smelled generic but his Lycan senses detected the wolf in her and a hint of something different, similar to the way Jacob smelled. Probably the same thing that marked him as a hybrid, but it wasn’t enough to rouse his wolf, who, during all this time, remained passive and indifferent to their new surroundings.

“Oh, you charmer you!” Mirth made her arctic blue eyes light up. “You don’t want to mess with me. I can make you hurt in different ways.”

Which of course only piqued his curiosity. “Oh really?” He reached out to touch a lock of red hair intending to to brush it off her shoulder. “I—”

The low growl that followed made his hackles raise and pull his hand back immediately. Turning to the door, Vrost stood there with another man, who stalked into the room like a predator who found his next victim. He was at least half a foot taller than Delacroix, but just as wide though it was hard to tell with the way he seemed to puff out his chest and shoulders. Green eyes so light they were almost yellow blazed with an icy fury that was directed straight at him. Familiar eyes.

“Ahem.” Vrost stepped between them. “Delacroix, you’ve met Wyatt Creed before, haven’t you? He’s our operations manager.”

Wyatt Creed. Queen Desiree’s brother. Ah, that’s why he was familiar; he was practically a younger carbon copy of his father. He’d seen the man a twice in Zhobghadi—once during the wedding and another time after Prince Caspar was born—though had never spoken with him. The middle Creed offspring had a superior air about him that seemed to say he was too good to speak to anyone beneath him, like bodyguards and servants. Which had been a puzzle to say the least because the rest of the Creed family had been warm and friendly to everyone. He’d found Wyatt to be cold and stuck up, but never confrontational. What could have provoked him?

Lizzie pulled the lollipop from her mouth. “Can we get on with it, please? I have work to do.”

As the female turned on her heel and walked back behind her desk, Creed’s eyes tracked her movements. Huh. Definitely a piece of information he was going to put away for now.

“Where’s the boss?” Jacob plopped down on the nearest chair in front of Lizzie’s desk, so Delacroix followed suit and sat in front of him. Wyatt didn’t make a move from where he stood by the door, but merely crossed his arms over his chest, his entire body going stuff.

“Mika’s running late today,” Vrost explained. “But she told me to go ahead and start without her and she’ll catch up. So, you two, welcome back to New York.”

Nothing would have pleased Delacroix more than to wipe that smug smile off the Beta’s face. “Glad to be back,” he shot back.

Vrost seemingly ignored the sarcasm in his tone. “Now that you’re back, we need to get you up to speed as soon as possible. We are at war with the mages, make no mistake. With the defeat of Stefan the master mage thirty years ago, we assumed that they’d been eradicated. But as we know, they’d only been being their time, growing their strength and forces, recruiting among witches around the world. In some cases, they’ve taken entire covens, by persuasion or force. Not only that, they’ve been searching for the three artifacts of Magus Aurelius, magical objects that have so much power that could put the entire world under their control. They have one—the necklace that can control humans, and we have one, the dagger of Magus Aurelius, safely tucked away in a secret location, but they’re doing everything in their power to steal ours.

The Alpha has refused to stay passive and we’ve hunted down every mage coven we could find, but it’s like the more we take down, more spring up somewhere else. But between trying to find the last artifact, protecting ourselves and the dagger, and hunting down the mages, our forces are spread too thin. That’s why we’ve recalled you two.” His icy blue gaze, however, focused on Delacroix. “We need all hands on deck, if we’re going to end this war soon. Your abilities and your training with the Almoravid will be invaluable to us.”

An acrid taste built up in his throat. Once again, he and his abilities would be used and abused, made to fight in a war that had nothing to do with him. In leaving the Pont Saint-Louis clan for New York, he was only exchanging one master for another. At least in Zhobghadi, he had been at peace.

“You look like you have something to say, Delacroix.”

Vrost’s tone was chilly as his icy stare, daring him to object. But he couldn’t; the bargain had been made and the New York clan owned him for the next five years. However, he wouldn’t act like some obedient puppy, begging for its master’s approval. “Don’t make much difference to me one way or the other.” He stretched out on the chair languidly, placing his hands behind his head and ankles crossed in front of him.

“Delacroix’s job at the palace was mostly to sit and look pretty,” Jacob joked. “And cause fights among the queen’s handmaidens.”

“I’m more of a lover than a fighter. ” He wiggled his eyebrows at Lizzie, who ignored him in favor of scrolling on her phone. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle in awareness, like someone was staring at him, and he didn’t need to turn his head to know where those particular daggers were coming from.

“You’ll follow orders, Delacroix,” Vrost said in a warning voice. “If you know what’s good for you.”

Like he needed it rubbed in his face some more. “I’ll follow your orders, but I don’t have any skin in this game, so don’t expect me to give more than I have to or give a rat’s ass about this war or yours.”

“Actually, it’s everyone’s war. The goddamn mages are out to destroy every last Lycan on earth.”

The voice was low and husky and his entire body froze, as if a giant hand had seized him an iron grip. When his head swung toward the newcomer entering the room, the first thing he noticed were her eyes. Green, like the color of emeralds but the hardness of diamonds. Long, jet black hair was pulled back in braid that swung over one shoulder. She was of medium height and slim build, though her white button down shirt and black trousers didn’t hide the feminine curves underneath.

And then something strange happened. Something that, as far as he could remember, never happened before. His inner wolf perked up, and its attention fixed on her.

Who was this woman?

 

Shadow Wolf

Releases Feb 18, 2020

PRE-ORDER NOW on Amazon

ONLY 2.99

(Goes up to 3.99 on release day)

 

Raw and Unedited

Subject to change

Shadow wolf

Book 7 of the True Mates Generations Series

 

CHAPTER ONE

The longer he stayed here, the more Marc Delacroix realized that Lycans were not meant for the dry desert heat, and certainly not those who grew up in the wet, humid bayous of Louisiana. His inner wolf grumbled unhappily as a hot breeze hit them in the face.

Yes, it’s uncomfortable, but would you rather be back there?

The wolf lay down and let out a defeated whine.

Yes, the deserts of Zhobghadi were too dry, the sun too bright, and the temperatures unbearable. But he would rather be here than stuck back in the hellhole he had called a home.

“If you think any louder, you’ll wake Caspar up.”

Delacroix blinked. “Apologies, Your Majesty.”

Queen Desiree of Zhobghadi, formerly Desiree Desmond Creed of the New York Lycan clan, smirked up at him as she lay her infant son in his stroller, pulling the hood down to protect him from the blazing sun. “No jokes today, Delacroix? Are you sure you’re not sick?”

The gentle teasing in her voice made the corners of his mouth turn up involuntarily. “I’m feeling just fine, mon petite.”

Normally, he wouldn’t dare call the queen and mate to a dragon king such a nickname, but they were alone as they went for their mid-morning stroll in the royal gardens. Non, he liked his hide unburnt. But after a year of guarding the new young royal, they had certainly become close, along with another Lycan from her former clan, Jacob Martin.

When Desiree Creed became queen of the tiny independent nation of Zhobghadi, her father, Sebastian Creed, had asked that Delacroix and Jacob accompany his daughter in order to watch over her and ease her transition into her new life. It was not only a great honor, but now he had another powerful man ingratiated to him. While Delacroix was, technically, bound to the New York clan, he was allowed to go to Zhobghadi, with the caveat that he could be recalled anytime. That bargain he had struck with Nick Vrost, was rock solid.

“Then you’re worried about going back to New York.”

And now the piper had come for payment. Two days ago, Vrost had sent the message that he was to return to America ASAP, the join the Guardian Initiative, the special task force formed by the Alpha to fight their enemies.

“Me, worried?” He snorted to make his point. “I’ll miss this position. It’s practically a vacation.” Glancing over at the covered stroller, his thoughts turned to the young prince and heir, not even three months old. “Watching over His Highness is one of the cushiest jobs I’ve had.” Though the thoughts of his previous jobs tried to surface in his mind, he pushed them away. His wolf growled, but he managed to calm it down. “Now I’ll have to do real work,” he said with a forlorn sigh.

“And my female staff will miss your charming ways,” she replied in a wry tone. “Though I’ll be glad for the peace when you do leave. You know, you have every eligible woman in the palace sighing after you.”

“And I enjoy having them sigh after me.”

“Yet the only thing I hear are complaints about no one has yet to snag you.”

He wagged his eyebrows at her. “Ah, but with so many women, there is no need to choose just one, non?”

She raised a brow at him. “Did you choose any at all?”

“I don’t kiss and tell, mon petite.”

“So, you haven’t chosen at all.”

The comment came from nowhere and hit its mark, catching him so off guard that he couldn’t stop from wincing. Yes, he certainly wasn’t lacking in attention from women and he could have his pick of the beautiful women in the palace. Could being the operative word. “Any other employer would have complained that I would have been unprofessional if I went after every available female around.”

“I’m not just your employer, Delacroix.” Her expression turned serious. “I’d like to think I was your friend, too.”

Though they—him, the queen and Jacob—had never mentioned it out loud, there had been a friendship between them since the beginning that didn’t have to be said. “I’m lucky you count me as a friend, Majesty.”

She sighed. “And there goes that wall up again.”

“Wall?”

Hand on her cocked hip, she stared at him. “You have this easy going charm that most people fall for. Most think you shallow and that there’s nothing underneath that smile, especially with the way you flirt with anything in a skirt. But, you can’t fool me. I’ve known you too long, Delacroix. And I know what I saw and what I felt when you took me into the shadows.”

“I am shallow.” It was almost automatic, the way his defenses came up. The smile on his face widened so much that he thought his face would crack. “There’s nothing more to say.”

“I’ve been around your kind my whole life. Why won’t you admit it?”

“Admit what?”

“What you are,” she stated. “You’re a hybrid. Half Lycan, half warlock. That’s why you can do magic.”

He huffed, but did not answer her. Usually, he parried inquiries about his nature, but then again, no one had ever asked him directly.

“I know the council views your kind warily,” she continued. “But it’s not like anyone’s going to treat you differently. My best friends are hybrids and use their powers to protect our kind. Is it so bad to admit it?”

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything. Yes, powers could be wielded for good, but they could also be abused.

“C’mon, D. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not ashamed,” he stated.

“Then what’s wrong? Why won’t you just say you’re a hybrid and be done with it? It’s obvious that’s why Vrost recruited you.”

Recruit. Right. “It’s not what you think.”

“Were your parents … did something happen to your witch or warlock parent, which is why you didn’t realize you were a hybrid?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Her expression was genuinely puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“I never knew them.” He swallowed hard, feeling his wolf go still at the mention of his parents. “I was orphaned and taken in by the Pont Saint-Louis clan. If I am what you say I am, then there would be no one to confirm.” In fact, he’d never met a hybrid until he’d been paired with Jacob, who had the ability to create and manipulate fire.

A gentle hand landed on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—Oh God, I’m so insensitive! I thought you were just being mysterious.”

He hesitated, but he trusted her. And he would be gone here in a few days, so there would be no harm in revealing more. “I was about nine or ten when the shadows … called to me.” It was difficult to describe the feeling. It was like a pull, small at first, but growing bigger each day. The dark corners, whispering his name until he couldn’t ignore it. “I … disappeared into the shadow of this big oak tree on clan property. Then I reappeared a few feet away, from the shadows of an old shed.”

“You must have been scared.”

Actually, he wasn’t. It had felt right. However, it was what happened after that was all wrong. When it had been discovered what he could do … well, Remy Boudreaux was a bastard, and the fact that Delacroix was a child didn’t matter to him. No, he only only cared about getting what he wanted, even if it meant making others do his dirty work.

Delicate brows drew together and her light green eyes pleaded at him. “I’m sorry for bringing it up. I understand why you might not want to talk about it. But your abilities … they could turn this war around for us.”

This damn war with the mages, he growled inwardly. Granted, it was the mages who sought the destruction of his kind, and the Lycans were just trying to defend themselves. Still, he thought leaving his old clan behind would end the fighting and bloodshed. When he had made that pact with Nick Vrost, he didn’t realize he would be exchanging one master for another. The violence was exhausting and he’d already paid so many times, as if his very nature was a crime. When would it be enough?

“But he doesn’t want to go.”

The sound of the low, masculine voice never failed to make his wolf uneasy, and if he were honest, himself. Turning toward the source of the words, he straightened his spine and bowed his head. “Your Majesty.”

King Karim stood in the entryway to the garden, dressed in his formal military tunic decorated with medals on the chest. His mere presence agitated him and his wolf, even after all this time, which was probably because, the king was one of the only two dragon shifters in the world. The power he held—both as ruling monarch of Zhobghadi and the animal he kept tightly reigned in himself—would have cowered anyone, yet the moment his gaze landed on his queen, he was a completely changed man. The seriousness on his face disappeared, leaving only tenderness and warmth.

“Habibti,” he murmured against her temple as he walked to her and bent down. “How is your day?”

“I’m great.” She leaned against him, and his posture relaxed. “Caspar is napping,” she nodded at the stroller next to her.   

“Don’t wake him up, he’ll only get cranky later.” He turned to Delacroix, his face turning serious again. “I could ask Vrost if he could spare you for another year, at least until Caspar’s first birthday. I’m sure Creed could speak on your behalf as well.”

“That’s mighty kind of you, Your Majesty.” He tipped his chin down reverently. “But it would only delay the inevitable.”

“I hate that now I must lose two of my trusted guards,” the king grumbled.

As soon as Delacroix received his marching orders from Vrost, Jacob had elected to go back to New York, not just to go back to his job at Lone Wolf Investigations, but to join the Guardian Initiative as well. He reasoned that it was time for him to go back home and that he was bored with life at the palace and wanted to be in the thick of the action. Delacroix wished he was as eager to fight, but he was glad his one true friend was going back with him.

“I am curious though.” King Karim’s blue eyes pierced into him. “What made you decide to pledge to New York?”

“He’s not pledged yet,” Queen Desiree explained. “He’s a transfer, and unless he’s a legacy transfer—meaning he had a parent or grandparent originally in the clan—it takes a few years. Five or six, I think.”

“Five. I was a few weeks in before I came here. It was made clear to me by Vrost that my time here would not be counted.” But, as soon as he reached New York soil, he would certainly be counting down to the last second until it was over. The reason he didn’t mind going back was that the sooner he could start his service to the New York clan, the sooner he could finish it.

“So, why the move?” the king repeated. “What did Vrost offer you that your original clan could not?”

Delacroix pursed his lips, wondering what was the most diplomatic way he could tell the monarch to mind his own business.

“Darling.” Queen Desiree placed a hand on his chest. “I think we’ve asked enough questions. How about we head back to our apartments and we can have coffee until Caspar wakes up after his nap?” Keen light green eyes turned to Delacroix. “Can you meet me at the Eastern doors at half past two? I’ll need you to accompany to my meeting at the University.”

The tightness in his chest eased, and he was grateful to the queen for not making him reveal any more about his past. He had already revealed more to her than he had to anyone, and it was vital no one knew about his life before now. About the things he’d done. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

“Are you coming back with us?” King Karim asked with a cock of his head

“I shall follow, Your Majesty. I would like to enjoy the desert air for a few more moments.”

The king’s brows knitted together, but said nothing as he led his wife and child back into the palace.

Delacroix turned around, turning his face up to the bright burning sun. Yes, he would miss this place. In the short time he’d been here, he’d become comfortable living in Zhobghadi. It was far removed from anything he’d known and if anyone had told him what his life would be this way a few years ago, he wouldn’t have believed them.

But this place wasn’t home. He couldn’t even dare dream of it as such, or any place, really. The bayou wasn’t home, and New York would never be home. New York was a way out. Many Lycans would have given their right arm to have been given an opportunity to be part of a powerful clan, but as soon as he was freed from his obligation, he would leave and become a Lone Wolf.

Not many Lycans could keep up with such a lifestyle—not having a permanent place to live or a clan to support them, constantly trying to pass as human. But the Lone Wolf life had something no clan could give him—freedom. The freedom to do what he pleased, when he pleased. Because he’d rather die than be under the thumb of any Alpha. Never again. And his wolf agreed wholeheartedly.

 

Shadow Wolf

Releases Feb 18, 2020

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daughter of the dragon

Book 6 of the True Mates Generations Series

 

CHAPTER TWO

The humungous beast’s wings spread wide as it flew, shadowing most of the city below. Such a sight would have brought fear in the hearts of anyone, but in Zhobghadi, The Great One’s form overhead brought comfort to its citizens, knowing their guardian was watching over them.

The long, spiked head stretched and opened its great maw to let out a deafening roar. Leathery wings snapped in wind as it swooped low, turning gracefully before heading back in the direction of the capital city, toward the largest structure in the entire country—a massive palace made of dark brown brick and decorated with gold. Near the topmost tower was a colossal balcony, big enough for the great beast to land on. But it was not scaly, talon-tipped claws the size of elephants that landed on the tile, but completely human ones.

“How was your flight, Your Highness?”

Prince Karim Idris Salamuddin took the offered robe and wrapped it around his naked, heated body. “Tiring,” he grunted, then shook his head. A prince of Zhobghadi would never say that. He could almost hear his father’s voice in his head chastising him. A prince should always act confident, commanding and never show any sign of weakness.

However, he was talking to Arvin, his older cousin and most trusted Vizier, and possibly the closest thing he had to a friend growing up, so perhaps some informality between them was permitted.

“I don’t know how your father did it, at seventy-five years of age.” Arvin shook his head. “He was doing it up until—”

When his cousin stopped, he continued. “Until last year.” Before his untimely death. “I don’t know either, but you know the old man was stubborn as a camel.”

It was important work, his father had said. It is my duty as their king and the bearer of The Great One to reassure them that our enemies will never defeat or capture us.

It had been a millennia since any threat had come close to taking over Zhobghadi. Still, tradition was tradition. Since the first time the sand storms came, every year the king calls upon the beast residing in his body to protect the city, flying overhead from midnight until dawn to scout for enemies. It was the will of the gods, of course. For they were the ones that sent the Easifat—the sand storms—to form a magical protection over the city as well as blessing the royal family line with The Great One.

Karim guffawed. Blessed. Right.

Of course, no enemies had ever come back since that first time, a thousand years ago. And as civilizations rose and fell, no other nation enslaved Zhobghadi, so perhaps the it was only right to keep up tradition as thanks to the gods.

But, it was a bloody exhausting tradition. And today was only the first day of many. How he wished he was back in Scotland with his friend. Duncan MacDougal had welcomed him, despite the unexpected visit and his own troubles. Karim had to chuckle to himself thinking of Julianna Anderson and what a merry chase she’d be leading his erstwhile playboy friend. He wished them both well, as he had a feeling that Julianna was definitely Duncan’s match.

“You did well,” Arvin noted as he gestured for them to head inside. They passed through the large, arched doorway leading into the living area of Karim’s suite of rooms. “Your father would be proud.”

Karim sorted as he walked over to the side table and poured himself a glass of water from a brass pitcher. “I’m sure he would have some criticisms. Perhaps my flight path was not efficient. Or I hadn’t changed fast enough. Or I took too long.” He took a long swig of the cool liquid. Of course no one was harder on Karim than himself, even though it had been less than a year since his beast was unlocked and he assumed The Great One’s full form. Despite the fact that he had shared his body with an animal his entire life, the transformation could only be completed once the previous bearer passed away. It was an unwieldy body, and he sometimes still struggled to control it.

“And is that why you haven’t taken the throne? Because you think he would have criticisms?”

The glass was still on his lips, but he stopped swallowing and slowly put the glass down. “Only you would say such things to me.”

Arvin grinned at him. “Of course. I’ve known you since you were in diapers.” He crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his dark eyes as Karim. “Well? You didn’t answer my question.”

“It’s complicated.”

“It’s not.” He gestured toward the door. “The throne lies empty and you are the Crown Prince. Therefore, it’s only logical that you take your rightful place as king. It’s not right, during this holiest time of the year that you are the bearer of the Great One and—”

As if on cue, the beast—The Great One, as the people of Zhobgadhi called it—roared inside him. Heat burned under his skin, and he knew his own eyes were glowing silver, the same color as his beast’s scales.

“And I can do my duties during the Easifat without being king. There’s no need for me to wear the crown.”

“There is every need.” Arvin stepped back. “But it’s not my business. I am only one of your subjects, after all.”

Karim threaded his fingers through his hair. “You know you are more than that. Otherwise, neither father or I would not have appointed you to your position.” As Vizier, Arvin ran the day-to-day operations in the palace, similar to a Chief of Staff. When the old Vizier had retired ten years ago, it was Karim who suggested Arvin for the position and King Nassir had agreed. His cousin had been Vizier ever since.

“And I’m grateful for the honor.” Arvin nodded his head in a small bow. “You only have a few hours to sleep before your first meeting.”

“I’ll be fine. An hour’s all I need.” Indeed, that was one of the perks of sharing his body with the creature. Even in human form, he could draw strength and stamina from the beast if needed, and he could recover from fatigue and injury quicker than any ordinary human. “But I am eager to clean up.”

“How about some food? I can have Ramin bring you something.”

“I’ll be fine. But—” he glanced around, “where is the boy, anyway?”

“He’s hardly a boy at seventeen years old,” Arvin said. “Hmm … he’s usually around here, waiting for you. I’ve never seen a more loyal valet. But I suppose you inspire that in him. He idolizes you.”

Karim let out a grunt. “I should have never let my father convince me to take him on.”

“And what would you have done?” Arvin asked. “Toss him out on the street?”

“Ramin is a ward of the Royal Family,” Karim pointed out. “He could have done anything with his life once he finished his schooling here, like studied abroad or opened a business.”

“Yet he chose to stay and shadow you as as his valet. You know he’s only waiting until he’s old enough to join the military. Then he’s going to apply to be part of The Almoravid,” Arvin said, mentioning the elite guard who protected the royal family of Zhobghadi.

“It is not a glamorous life.”

“Would you blame him though?” Arvin asked. “He only wants to repay you. You saved him from—”

“Bah.” Karim waved his hand in a dismissive manner. “I’m tired. I’m sure the boy will turn up when I awaken.” He didn’t bother to say goodbye to Arvin, but marched into his rooms without a backward glance. It was his privilege, after all, as Crown Prince.

Heading straight to the opulent bath area, he decided against a long soak in the huge tub and opted for a quick shower instead. After finishing his business, he leaned against the marble and gold sink, looking up at his reflection in the mirror. Weary cerulean blue eyes looked back at him. It was an unusual color for a Zhobghadian, but then again he had gotten it from his English mother.

Not liking where his thoughts were going, he turned away and headed back to his bedroom. It was dark and a shadow fell over the enormous bed. Numerous soft pillows formed lumps under the silk sheets, and but the bed was big enough that he found an empty spot where he was able to lay down and stretch out. In seconds, his eyes shut and he fell into a dreamless sleep.

But it wasn’t dreamless. No, he definitely did dream. And what a delicious dream it was—that of curling up against a soft, warm body. Of the scent of something sweet, like the rich desserts he loved as a child, but with a touch of burned sugar. And plush flesh pressed up against his hardening cock. It had been too long since he’d had a woman,[Alicia Mo1]  which was probably why the dream was so vivid.

His dream woman turned, sighing softly. Again, it seemed so real that he could feel the warmth of her breath. Wanting more, he moved his head a fraction of an inch forward, until his lips met velvety ones.

A spark of electricity nearly made him pull back, but the The Great One awoke in him.

More. Mine. Ours.

The voice was alien in his head, but at the same time, not. He’d had the creature—a dragon, his mother had called it—inside him since he could remember, but he’d never heard it speak.

Claim.

Strange, but that’s when he realized it wasn’t a dream.

Still, he could not stop himself. He was like a man dying of thirst in the desert who found an oasis. He kissed—no, devoured—those lips like they were his salvation. And they responded back in kind. Or their owner did. Small hands crept up his bare chest, fingers gripped his shoulders as his tongue snaked out and parted her lips to taste more of her sweetness.

A few women had snuck into his bed before, and usually, he threw out anyone uninvited. But he just couldn’t bring himself to stop. Moving his body over hers, he pinned her to the mattress. She didn’t protest his weight; in fact, she moaned into his mouth and spread her legs to accommodate him. There was only fabric between them, which was probably her clothes as he was naked. His cock strained against her and she gasped.

“What—I—no!”

He blinked, the words making him freeze. Limbs disentangled rom him and he saw a the figure quickly crawled away to the edge of the bed, just as he surged off the mattress and slammed his palm on light switch.

“Who the heck are you?” she shouted in English.

Karim didn’t know if he was going to laugh or shout. “Who am I? I should be asking you that, seeing as you are in my bed?”

“Your … bed?”

With the room filled with light, he was finally able to see the dream—or rather, not-dream woman. Light brown hair tumbled down her shoulders like ribbons of rich toffee. Tanned skin that he knew was soft to the touch. Pouty pink lips that were still swollen from his kisses. But what made him momentarily forget who he was were those eyes—a green so light they were almost yellow,.

“Yes, my bed.” He managed to scrounge up every bit of authority he could muster. “Who are you? And what are you doing here?”

“I’m—” Her lips pouted and her mouth went wide. Even under her tan he could see her flush, and those light eyes turned away from him. “Uhm, would you mind putting on some … pants or something?”

He glanced down, only realizing that he was naked as the day he was born, not to mention, his erection was practically jutting out like the tower of Babel. Quickly, he grabbed the first thing he could—a pillow—and planted it over his hips. “Now, tell me who you are and how you came here.”

“I … “ She shook her head. “I’m Professor Desiree Desmond Creed, from New York University.”

An American?

“My archeological team and were on a site just forty miles outside the Pakistani border. I was going for a walk after dinner to …” A gasp escaped her mouth and she ran her fingers through her hair. After checking her fingers, she let out a sigh of relief. “I was hit in the head by … I mean, I was injured and then the sand storm came before I passed out.”

Injured? The Great One roared in displeasure.

Opening his mouth, he took a deep breathe. When he focused his sense of smell and taste and ignored her delicious sweet scent, he realized that it was there, tinging the air. The scent of dried blood. Someone had hurt her! He wasn’t sure if the growl that was rattling in his chest was from The Great One or him.

“Then I woke up … here?” She glanced around. “Where am I again?”

“You’re in Zhobghadi,” he said.

“Zhobghahdi?” She cocked her head at him. “But how?”

“You don’t remember how you got here?”

“No … I mean.” Her eyes shut tight. “Maybe … I felt like I was being carried. And there was a long corridor and I thought I saw something silver on the walls shaped like a … snake?”

He knew exactly what she was describing. And the one person who could possible have brought her into his room. “Wait here.”

“Wait? What do you mean—”

Turning on his heel, he didn’t wait for her to finish as he strode out of his bedroom and crossed the living area to the main door. Yanking it open, he barked to the member of The Almoravid standing guard, “Find me the boy and bring him inside.”

The guard saluted him with a fist over his heart, then bowed as he ran down the hallway. It didn’t take him to long to come back, pulling along another figure, and pushed him inside the living room before closing the door with a loud thud.

The boy—almost a man, Karim reminded himself—looked up at him, his midnight eyes growing wide. He didn’t need to ask. The look of guilt was plastered all over young man’s face.

“What have you done?”

Ramin’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down his skinny neck. “Highness. I had no choice.”

“No choice?” Karim thundered. “You brought a woman—an outsider—into the city during our most sacred time, and snuck her into the palace using the azdaha passage?” The tunnel that ran under the palace and led out to of the city walls was a secret that only the royal family new about. The woman had accurately described the long mural that stretched along its walls—the first Great One, with its long silvery body—which clued him in on who could have brought her in. “I told you about that passage in confidence!”

“And I have not told anyone,” he protested. “I thought she was unconscious the entire time, your highness.”

“And you brought her here? Why?”

Ramin’s youthful face had turned dark, and it the shadows he thought were banished from his eyes had returned. “She was in danger. I had to help her.”

“In danger?”

“She was being attacked. I pulled the man off her and I took her far away. He … he would have dishonored her the way my mother was nearly done so. Before you stopped that man who murdered her.”

Fury rushed through his veins like the fire and flames The Great One spewed. Memories rushed back from nearly a decade ago. When he had been sneaking out of the palace and a blood-curdling scream had brought him to a house down in one of the poorer neighborhoods of the city. That man—Ramin’s great-uncle—had beaten the boy’s newly-widowed mother to death for refusing his advances. And Ramin had witnessed it all.

And someone had tried to do it to that woman. No wonder the boy went crazy, the memories probably triggering him. By the fires of Gibil, he didn’t even know her name, yet he wanted to burn the world to ashes for what she had nearly suffered. And find that man who hurt her and let The Great one devour him.

“She needed help. Protection.” Ramin gulped and lowered his gaze. “Highness.”

“And so you brought her here.”

“You will protect her. The Great One protects all.” Ramin dropped to his knees. “Forgive me, Your Highness.”

Karim let out a string of curses under his breath. Arvin had been right—Ramin idolized him, for getting justice for his mother’s death, for taking him in as his ward and providing for him. And now he thought Karim could save everyone, too. He wanted to laugh. He was a prince yes, and the bearer of The Great One, but in truth, Karim knew, he was no noble protector. He was just another man.

But what to do now?

“How did you find her anyway? She said she was right outside our borders.”

“I was out, highness.”

“Out?” Karim roared. “You know you are supposed to stay in the city during the Easifat! What if the sand storms arrived and you were locked outside?.”

“I made it just in time.” Ramin looked up at him to meet his gaze. “Besides, the Almoravid patrol the borders during the Easifat.”

“They are trained to do so and carry the necessary equipment to ensure they can navigate safely. You are not one of them.” His teeth were gnashing together so hard, he thought he would grind them to the gum. “And you have not gone through the blooding ceremony,” he said, referring to the ritual that all of the Almoravid endured to ensure they could effectively serve the royal family. “You could have been hurt.”

“I took every precaution, highness.” He slipped something out of his pocket—sand goggles that were specially made for sand storms, as well as face mask to cover the nose and mouth. “The goggles allowed me to make my way back and I put the mask on her to protect her lungs while I carried her back.”

“How did you even—Never mind.” Ramin was smart and resourceful, so he wasn’t surprise he had gotten his hands on the special gear. And he had also saved that woman’s life. The woman who was still in his bed, looking vulnerable and at the same time, so alluring. Mentally, he shook his head. That was not the point. “Outsiders are forbidden in Zhobghadi during this time.”

Ramin didn’t say anything, but merely prostrated himself. “Forgive me, Highness. Don’t send me to the dungeon, please.”

Karim sighed. “Get up. Come, you have put us into this situation, and you will help me fix it.”

 

DAUGHTER OF THE DRAGON 

Releases Dec 4th, 2019

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