

Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter One
Few aristocrats across the Seven Realms could match the importance of The Extremely Honourable Lady Fenella Chartre. She was the highest of the high; she knew it, and everybody else knew it too. Few would dare to compete with her for the first place at table, at even the most prestigious of dinner parties. No one would attempt to precede her out of a room. She secured the attentions of the most prominent gentleman present at any event, and without even trying. Her importance gathered around her like a cloak; it was evident in her every movement and gesture, every stitch of clothing that she wore, and every coil of her smooth blonde hair.
Equal in consequence was her brother, The Remarkably Honourable Edlen, Lord Bastavere. Fortunately, his height was a perfect match to his consequence, and permitted him to look down his long nose at the lesser persons around him without much straining his lordship. They made a handsome pair, everybody agreed, and had been enjoying the very best of society for some years.
Today, they had ventured beyond the borders of Irbel and explored into Nimdre. Their extremely large, thoroughly imposing and almost impossibly shiny carriage was making its way, at approximately half past seven in the evening, along a quiet but reassuringly well-kept road in northern Nimdre. It was drawn, of course, by a team of four high-stepping, perfectly-matched nivvens, their pale grey scales gleaming in the dying light. The destination of the noble pair was the grand country home of Dame Halavere Morann, a lady of lesser importance (naturally) but sufficient consequence to attract the interest of their lady-and-lordships. Lady Fenella reclined at her ease, gazing idly out at the darkening countryside as she reflected with satisfaction upon the delights of prestige, importance and superiority which she would enjoy at the Dame’s autumn ball. Her brother wore the faintest hint of a scowl upon his noble features; he had, perhaps, been obliged to forego some more eligible plan in favour of this evening’s entertainment.
‘What a delight it shall be, I am sure!’ said Lady Fenella, in the peachiest of plummy accents.
‘A dead bore, I should think,’ muttered his lordship in reply.
‘Pish,’ said Lady Fenella. ‘You will be able to ignore at least half of the young ladies, and break the hearts of all the rest. You always enjoy that.’
Lord Bastavere ventured no response, and silence fell. Her ladyship resumed her lazy scrutiny of the countryside, and her dark eyes began to drift shut.
In the ordinary way of things, nobody would be so foolish nor so bold as to interfere with their lord-and-ladyship in any way whatsoever. Such a grand, large carriage may, in the course of ordinary logic, appear as a superb prize to adventurers, low-lifes and other such persons as that, but such had never been the experience of this noble pair. Their vehicles, their beasts, their garments and of course they themselves radiated such imperturbability, such an inflexible determination to carry all before them, that no one had dared cross them in the smallest respect.
Until today. Lady Fenella’s reverie was rudely interrupted by a sudden lurch of the carriage as it swerved to one side, two of its wheels leaving the road altogether. After that it came to an abrupt stop, and the sounds of some loud altercation split the evening air.
Lady Fenella thumped her hand upon the roof of the carriage and called, ‘Wendle! What has occurred?’
Receiving no response, and finding that the shouting continued unabated, her ladyship stuck her head out of the window of the carriage. She observed immediately that a desperate figure stood in the road not far away. The man was wearing the customary uniform of general depravity: dark colours, generally black, and a hooded cloak which admirably shrouded his features. His attire may, perhaps, be a little shabby, which suggested to her ladyship’s keen eye that he was not the most successful of footpads. This impression was borne out by the disreputable condition of the rapier he wielded, though she could not deny that he wielded it with apparent skill. Her poor coachman, Wendle, was held at bay by the vicious weavings of this weapon as its wielder whipped it about in a tolerably threatening manner. Her footman stood at a little distance, obviously preparing to rush the swordsman in an attempt to disarm him.
‘What is it?’ said Lord Bastavere in a bored tone.
‘Why, it is a hold-up!’ replied his sister in accents of pure delight. ‘A real one! Though I think it sadly disappointing. There is not even a pistol, only the shabbiest of rapiers.’ She opened the door as she spoke and jumped lightly down into the road, taking all due care to hold the hem of her cerulean silk skirt out of the mud. ‘Hallo!’ she called, with a cheery smile. ‘Goodness, I have never seen a real highwayman before! How very obliging of you to choose our carriage for your exciting adventure.’
The hood-shrouded head turned swiftly in her direction, and the highwayman’s movements faltered in an instant of confusion. ‘Stay back!’ he shouted hoarsely, and in heavily accented Nimdren. ‘I will kill your coachmen if anyone approaches me!’
‘Of course, of course,’ said Lady Fenella soothingly. ‘It is our valuables you want, I suppose? Shall you be absolutely obliged to take my gown? It is undoubtedly fine, and would fetch a great price I am sure, but I am so very fond of it.’ She stroked the beautiful silk as she spoke, heaved a long sigh and began to unlace the bodice.
This gambit confused her assailant very much, for he stammered one or two unintelligible things and blurted something wholly incomprehensible. This proved opportunity enough; Lord Bastavere, who had crept up upon the hapless highwayman unseen, grabbed him in a rough bearhug and shook him until he dropped his weapon. Wendle hastily retrieved it and took it well out of reach.
‘Thank you, my dear,’ said Lady Fenella, with the warmest of smiles for her brother. ‘I would have been very sorry to part with my gown, I admit. Though to save all of our lives, I would have done it!’ This last was added in laudably tragic tones, paired with a brave smile which quivered only the slightest bit.
Lord Bastavere made no reply, busying himself with securing the hands of the highwayman behind him. This appeared to cost him more effort than might be expected, given the tall and powerful frame his lordship enjoyed, and the shorter and undeniably thinner physique of the other. A wrestling match occurred, which Lord Bastavere appeared, incredibly, to be losing.
The reason for this soon became clear. The highwayman’s body began to warp in the oddest way, shimmering and flickering in an alarming fashion. His strength appeared to grow by the second, and soon he threw off Lord Bastavere altogether and ran some few steps away.
Moments later, there stood not a man at all but a draykon. The beast was very large indeed, and appeared all the larger when he reared up upon his hind legs, flexing his vast, webbed wings and roaring a challenge at the carriage and all associated with it. His scales were a dark amber colour, a hue which her ladyship could not help finding utterly charming. He bore besides a long snout, vicious-looking teeth and wickedly curved, opalescent claws.
‘A shapeshifter!’ cried Lady Fenella delightedly. ‘My word! Some say one meets with them everywhere these days, but I did not previously believe it to be true.’
The draykon roared again, and showed himself to be tiresomely determined to charge the carriage. This notion did not appeal very much to her ladyship. With a short sigh, she removed a compact voice-box from a pocket of her voluminous gown and spoke into it.
‘Teyo, we’re going to need you,’ she said crisply in the Irbellian tongue. ‘Be suitably terrifying.’
She put the voice-box away once more, and smiled calmly at the draykon. The creature was certainly enjoying his triumph: he amused himself with a bit more thrashing and roaring, flapping his sail-like wings in a manner he no doubt considered to be extremely alarming. In fact, it
was
rather alarming. If he chose to attack the carriage, considerable damage would no doubt follow. But he did not, which both relieved and puzzled her ladyship.
Lady Fenella and her brother stood side-by-side, watching. After perhaps a minute, Lady Fenella removed an attractive, bejewelled timepiece from another pocket and glanced at it.
‘What could possibly be keeping him?’ she murmured.
‘There he is,’ replied his lordship, with a nod at the road behind them.
Another draykon came soaring down it, wings spread wide and mouth open in a shattering roar. This beast was considerably larger than the first, his scales gorgeously carmine in hue and his teeth and claws so very impressive, Fenella always felt agreeably faint on beholding them. The second draykon landed near to the first, the ground shaking with the impact, and screamed so violently at his smaller counterpart that the amber-coloured creature shuddered and transformed at once back into a man.
‘I tried,’ the man muttered as he held up his hands.
‘Thank you, Teyo darling,’ said Fenella, with a sweet smile.
The carmine draykon took off once more and soon disappeared into the encroaching darkness, tipping his wings to Fenella as he went.
‘How very exciting!’ Fenella said, approaching the hapless highwayman with a conciliating smile. ‘Poor soul, am I right in thinking that you are sadly short of employment opportunities? I may be able to help you there!’
‘Rena!’ hissed his lordship incomprehensibly. ‘We do
not
need another one!’
Lady Fenella ignored this magnificently, too occupied in shepherding her fine skirts over the muddy road to pay attention to her brother. ‘I cannot stay for the present — a
most
pressing appointment to attend to, I’m sure you understand — but if you can contrive to remain here for an hour or two, we shall return for you with all possible haste.’
Her quarry merely stared blankly at her, his mouth hanging open a little.
‘Quickly, quickly,’ said her ladyship, just a little testily. ‘I
did
say I have an appointment, did I not? And you have already sadly delayed us.’
‘What kind of opportunity?’ said the highwayman at last.
‘One which would make the utmost use of your unusual talents,’ she replied with a smile. ‘Oh, I can always find a use for another shapeshifter. There can be no question about that! It would be of the utmost usefulness. And then there is your talent for disguise. I have seldom seen a woman masquerade more successfully as a man.’
‘Wha…’ spluttered the dark figure. There was neither hoarseness nor gruffness in that single syllable; it was spoken instead in the unmistakeable high, clear tones of a woman. A fairly young one, most likely. ‘How did you know?’
‘My dear,’ said Lady Fenella grandly, ‘You are speaking to an expert.’ Her voice, too, had changed; all of its exaggerated plumminess had disappeared, and a mild Irbellian accent had emerged. She made a curtsey of exquisite gracefulness, a single dimple appearing in one cheek with her mischievous smile, and straightened. ‘We’ll return,’ she said. ‘I would take you along in the carriage, only I would find that a trifle difficult to explain. The needs of the masquerade must always come first, as I’m sure you know.’
With this pronouncement, her ladyship got back into her spectacular carriage — the paint of which, upon closer inspection, might appear to be a little
too
shiny, and perhaps rather too new — and waited while her brother regained his seat beside her. She thumped twice upon the roof with a suitably commanding air, and the carriage drove off once more.
‘Serena,’ said Lord Bastavere. ‘What was that about?’
Miss Serena Carterett shrugged. ‘I never pass up the chance to recruit, Fabe. Good people are awfully difficult to find when you want them.’
Her brother, Mr. Fabian Carterett, merely sighed and flopped back into his seat. ‘Whatever you say,’ he replied.
Serena smiled.
They arrived at the ball later than planned, but since that only emphasised their importance, neither one of the siblings considered it at all to be regretted. In fact, many others had had the same happy thought, and their carriage was obliged to wait in line for some minutes before they could be gracefully ejected from it and welcomed into the house.
Dame Halavere’s abode was sumptuous indeed. It bore a suitably symmetrical facade, was several storeys high, and constructed from an excessively attractive (and expensive) silvery-coloured stone. It was sizeable enough to contain twenty bedrooms at the least, and the grounds — though little of them could be seen in the darkness — were extensive. Serena gazed at the whole picture with undisguised covetousness for some moments before she ventured up the several steps to the entrance, her brother solicitously holding her arm.
Dame Halavere herself was stationed near the front of her grand hall, still poised to welcome her guests. She was aged somewhere in her thirties, Serena judged, with handsome features and the pure, snow-white hair that proclaimed her Lokant heritage. She wore it so proudly, in fact, that she had single-handedly overcome some of the wariness — nay, even prejudice — that had greeted the Lokants upon their coming to prominence within the Seven Realms. They were not native to Serena’s world, and wielded strange and powerful abilities which bore little resemblance to the sorcerous magics which were familiar, and trusted, within the Seven. The draykoni, likewise, were but newly restored, though they had become steadily more prominent during the last two years. It fell to individuals such as Dame Halavere to overcome the natural cautions of an alarmed people, and since she wielded such fearsome weapons as a beautiful smile, an undeniably handsome cleavage and all the most desirable trappings of wealth, culture and sophistication, she was doing an admirable job of it.
Serena eyed her with some misgivings, watching closely as her hostess greeted those ahead with perfect graciousness and civility. Halavere was a high-ranking member of a new Lokant organisation. Its inevitably wordy name — the Lokant Heritage Investigation and Training Bureau — was typically shorted to the LHITB, or just the LHB. Dame Halavere had received significant training; Serena’s sources reported that she was a strong medic, but showed little talent at the art of dominating the minds of others. This latter, of course, was responsible for much of the distrust aimed at the Lokants and their part-blood descendants in the Seven. Indeed, if Dame Halavere were skilled at such an art, she could force Serena to see whatever she wished her to see, concealing truths behind a species of illusion. Then, of course, it would be virtually impossible for Serena to discover anything at all about the questionable activities she strongly suspected Dame Halavere of indulging in.
Serena did not entirely trust her sources. If Halavere had concealed her talents in this area, it was better by far that she should never have reason to distrust Serena and Fabian.
Hence the masquerade. Serena gathered the silly, self-important and vivacious persona of Lady Fenella Chartre around herself, drew herself up to her full (albeit not especially impressive) height and stepped forward in her turn.
‘Dame Halavere! Such a delightful ball! I am enjoying myself immensely and I have but just stepped through your doorway.’ Serena curtseyed and simpered, as Fabian made his bow.
‘Ah, the sumptuous siblings,’ said Halavere, with an arch look at Fabian. He did make a very handsome lord, Serena had to admit, especially with that gorgeous blond wig. Ever quick to use every possible advantage, Fabian bestowed upon his hostess a silky smile in response, and held her hand just a little too long.
‘You are most welcome, and I hope you will enjoy yourselves,’ continued Halavere. With that they were dismissed; Halavere turned to greet the next guests in the line, and Serena and Fabian were free to wander into the rest of the house.
The ballroom was gloriously lit up with floating lanterns, and decked with wondrous flowers in hues of indigo, cream and gold. Strains of beautiful music drifted forth, and the air was filled with the delicious fragrances of flowers and edible delicacies. Serena could not repress her delighted smile as they entered, her gaze wandering from the many guests whirling about the floor, to the stunningly decorated walls and the vast bowls full of colourful punch standing on tables along one side of the room.
‘Remember, we are
not
here to dance,’ whispered Fabian, her delight evincing only a disapproving frown in response.
‘But we must dance a little!’ she whispered back. ‘How very odd it will appear for us to attend a ball without dancing! We do have parts to play.’
‘One dance, and you may dance with me,’ Fabian conceded, and immediately led her onto the floor. The orchestra was playing a mellifluous waltz at that moment, which suited Serena perfectly. Her natural tastes for music, light, colour and liveliness led her to exult in all events of this kind, and ensured that Lady Fenella Chartre was one of her favourites of all the roles she played in the course of her duties.
She was, in truth, an agent of an investigative bureau in Irbel. Their organisation bore strong links to the government of her home realm, but was largely independent and funded by private individuals. Their acknowledged purpose was to oppose crime in all its forms, but its focus was upon organised crime, and upon one group in particular: the largest, most extensive and most ruthless of all the criminal organisations of the Seven.
They called themselves the Yllandu, which meant “Unspoken” in Ullarni. Serena supposed it was intended as a reference to the extreme secrecy of the organisation itself, and all of its activities. The name sounded absurd to her; she and her band tended to call them the Unspeakables instead, which amused them all greatly. But the Yllandu were no laughing matter. The organisation was vast, spanning all of the Realms except for desolate Orlind, and there was no low to which they would not stoop.
More worryingly, they had adopted the new Lokant and draykoni descendants with enthusiasm and had been attempting to recruit all of those who showed even the least skill in any related area. It had been whispered that they had even attempted to sway the founder of the LHB, Lady Evastany Glostrum herself, though of course her ladyship had proved impervious.
Dame Halavere probably had not. Her name had come up repeatedly in connection with several recent crimes, and though they were but rumours, Serena’s superiors had judged it best to investigate. Word had reached them of a meeting that was to take place tonight, under cover of Halavere’s grand ball. The topic under discussion was to be a new job — and not just any job.
This
job was extremely important, enormously lucrative, and to be entrusted only to the most talented, most loyal, and most reliable of the Unspeakables.
Unfortunately, nobody had any idea what the job
was.
It fell to Serena and Fabian to keep Halavere under close observation tonight, and attempt to overhear whatever was said at that meeting. There were only a few obstacles in their way: namely the presence of approximately two hundred other guests, the necessity of concealing themselves and their true purpose from their hostess, and the minor complication that they had no idea who Halavere might be meeting. Or whether she would even risk attending that meeting in person.
Fortunately, the Carteretts had one or two other colleagues stationed around the house tonight.
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"Are you sure you don't want me to touch you?" He whispers, untying the knot and slipping a hand inside. "Because I swear to God, that is all I have been wanting to do. Every single day from the moment you stepped in our bar and I smelled your perfect flavor from across the room."
New to the world of shifters, Draven is human on the run. A beautiful girl who no one could protect. Domonic is the cold Alpha of the Red Wolf Pack. A brotherhood of twelve wolves that live by twelve rules. Rules which they vowed could NEVER be broken.
Especially - Rule Number One - No Mates
When Draven meets Domonic, he knows that she is his mate, but Draven has no idea what a mate is, only that she has fallen in love with a shifter. An Alpha that will break her heart to make her leave. Promising herself, she will never forgive him, she disappears.
But she doesn’t know about the child she’s carrying or that the moment she left, Domonic decided rules were made to be broken - and now will he ever find her again? Will she forgive him?
The Lycan Prince’s Puppy
“Soon enough, you’ll be begging for me. And when you do—I’ll use you as I see fit, and then I’ll reject you.”
—
When Violet Hastings begins her freshman year at Starlight Shifters Academy, she only wants two things—honor her mother’s legacy by becoming a skilled healer for her pack and get through the academy without anyone calling her a freak for her strange eye condition.
Things take a dramatic turn when she discovers that Kylan, the arrogant heir to the Lycan throne who has made her life miserable from the moment they met, is her mate.
Kylan, known for his cold personality and cruel ways, is far from thrilled. He refuses to accept Violet as his mate, yet he doesn’t want to reject her either. Instead, he sees her as his puppy, and is determined to make her life even more of a living hell.
As if dealing with Kylan’s torment isn’t enough, Violet begins to uncover secrets about her past that change everything she thought she knew. Where does she truly come from? What is the secret behind her eyes? And has her whole life been a lie?
Shadows In Durango
But Durango brings its own set of challenges. The first being Vincent Walker: the school's intoxicating bad boy who taunts her relentlessly yet sends mixed signals with his unexpected moments of protection and flirtation. Rumours swirl about his family's deep ties to the criminal underworld, only adding to the mystery that surrounds him and the town.
As Sofia navigates through her new life, she also meets Vincent’s best friend, Daryl— a total sweetheart who offers a stark contrast to Vincent's dangerous allure. Drawn into their world, Sofia's secrets begin to unravel. When Vincent and Daryl discover the truth about her living situation, they demand that she moves in with them, promising her safety and a place to belong.
Torn between the enigmatic Vincent and the endearing Daryl, Sofia finds herself falling for both. But her newfound stability is shattered when her past catches up to her, bringing her toxic ex-boyfriend Ashton back into her life. With his relentless apologies and attempts to win her back, Sofia is thrust into a tumultuous love triangle, all while fearing the return of her father and brother who are determined to take her back home.
Caught between three loves and the ghosts of her past, Sofia must navigate a treacherous path to find where her heart truly belongs. Will she choose the dangerous allure of Vincent, the sweet safety of Daryl, or the familiar yet toxic pull of Ashton? And can she ever truly escape her horrifying past?
HIS REJECTED SECOND CHANCE MATE
"What the f*ck, Zara!" Levi bumped into me and growled behind me.
"Sorry," I mumbled, wide-eyed.
"Is that?" Levi mind-linked, and I nodded my head.
"Zara," my father uttered. "I understand that you are familiar with Alpha Noah."
I slowly nodded my head.
"Great," my father said. "Alpha Noah has also informed me that you are his fated mate."
I gave a nod in response.
"Superb, Alpha Noah has requested your hand."
"Is that so?" I found my voice.
Both my father and Alpha Noah nodded.
"Interesting," I said. "Were you told by Alpha Noah that he rejected me more than a year ago?"
My father's smile wavered as Alpha Noah's face turned to ash.
Did Alpha Noah really believe I would just blindly obey an order from my father without a fight?
Zara is a silver wolf descended from one of the most powerful packs on the continent.
A year after he rejects her, her fated mate comes knocking on her door to tell her he is back to claim her.
Zara turns down his proposal, and he goes behind her back and asks her father for her hand. The old Alpha agrees to the arrangement.
Zara is unhappy and decides to handle things on her own. She informs her father that she has taken a chosen mate, her Beta, and her best friend, Levi—only he has a secret.
What will happen when Zara's second chance mate attends her and Levi's mating ceremony?
Will he stop the proceedings and claim her as his mate?
A story about two broken hearts finding each other and getting sucked into a web of lies and prophecies.
Will Zara find the happiness she so deserves?
Secrets of Us: A Forbidden Love Romance
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I cry out and he soothes me with kisses on my neck and nibbles on my skin. Still he doesn’t slow down. He starts at a quick pace, at a strength that already has my legs trembling.
I grab onto his shoulders, cries leaving my lips every time he slams into me. It turn wet, not from the water, but from how much he makes my pussy happy.
Alina leaves everything she knows behind after she is in a terrible car accident that tears her family apart. A new home, a new school and a fractured relationship with her mother are only the beginning of the things this change will throw her way. Immediately she catches the attention of three men, and she can’t deny what she feels for them, too. Quickly, and much to her demise, she finds out that their lives are much more intertwined than she would have ever hoped for. She had hoped to discover herself in this new place, but everything only tears her apart. Who will she choose between Zaid, the bad boy, Aiden, her sweet jock, and Jake, and older man who can't seem to keep his hands off of her?
The Alpha King's Human Mate
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He used one of his hands to stroke my cheek and tingles erupted everywhere.
“I’ve spent enough time without you and I will not let anything else keep us apart. Not other wolves, not my drunken father who’s barely holding himself together the past twenty years, not your family – and not even you.”
Clark Bellevue has spent her entire life as the only human in the wolf pack - literally. Eighteen years ago, Clark was the accidental result of a brief affair between one of the most powerful Alphas in the world and a human woman. Despite living with her father and her werewolf half-siblings, Clark has never felt like she really belonged in the werewolf world. But right as Clark plans to leave the werewolf world behind for good, her life gets flipped upside down by her mate: the next Alpha King, Griffin Bardot. Griffin has been waiting years for the chance to meet his mate, and he's not about to let her go anytime soon. It doesn't matter how far Clark tries to run from her destiny or her mate - Griffin intends to keep her, no matter what he has to do or who stands in his way.
Nanny and Her Four Alpha Bullies
I Am His Wolfless Luna
Ethan also kept emitting deep roars in my ear, 'Damn... I'm going to cum... !!!' His impact became more intense and our bodies kept making slapping sounds.
"Please!! Ethan!!"
As the strongest female warrior in my pack, I was betrayed by those I trusted most, my sister and my best friend. I was drugged, raped, and banished from my family and my pack. I lost my wolf, my honor, and became an outcast—carrying a child I never asked for.
Six years of hard-won survival turned me into a professional fighter, fueled by rage and grief. A summons arrives from the formidable Alpha heir, Ethan, asking me to return as a wolfless combat instructor for the very pack that once banished me.
I thought I could ignore their whispers and stares, but when I see Ethan's emerald-green eyes—the same as my son’s—my world tilts.
Game of Destiny
When Finlay finds her, she is living among humans. He is smitten by the stubborn wolf that refuse to acknowledge his existence. She may not be his mate, but he wants her to be a part of his pack, latent wolf or not.
Amie cant resist the Alpha that comes into her life and drags her back into pack life. Not only does she find herself happier than she has been in a long time, her wolf finally comes to her. Finlay isn't her mate, but he becomes her best friend. Together with the other top wolves in the pack, they work to create the best and strongest pack.
When it's time for the pack games, the event that decides the packs rank for the coming ten year, Amie needs to face her old pack. When she sees the man that rejected her for the first time in ten years, everything she thought she knew is turned around. Amie and Finlay need to adapt to the new reality and find a way forward for their pack. But will the curve ball split them apart?
The Moon's Descendant
“You think I’m going to let my daughter sleep with whoever she wants” he spat. He kicked me in the ribs, sending me flying back across the floor.
“I didn’t” I coughed, gasping for air.
I felt as though my chest had caved in. I thought I was about to vomit when Hank grabbed my hair and lifted my head. CRACK. It was like my eye had exploded inside my skull when he punched me in the face. I landed on the cold concrete and pressed my face onto the floor. He used his foot to roll me over so that I was on my back.
“Look at you, you disgusting c**t” he huffed as he crouched down beside me and wiped the hair from my face. He smiled, a terrifying evil smile.
“I have something extra special for you tonight” he whispered.
Hidden in the dark forest, on Cape Breton Island, lives a small community of Weres. For generations they remained hidden from the humans and maintained a peaceful existence. That is until one small woman joins their pack and throws their world upside down.
Gunner the future Alpha, serving as a knight in shining armour saves the young woman from certain death. Bringing with her a mysterious past and possibilities that many had long since forgotten, Zelena is the light they didn’t know they needed.
With new hope, comes new dangers. A clan of hunters want back what they believe the pack has stolen from them, Zelena.
With her new powers, new friends and new family, they all fight to protect their homeland and the gift that the Moon Goddess has bestowed upon them, the Triple Goddess.
Strings of Fate
Like all children, I was tested for magic when I was only a few days old. Since my specific bloodline is unknown and my magic is unidentifiable, I was marked with a delicate swirling pattern around my upper right arm.
I do have magic, just as the tests showed, but it has never lined up with any known Magic species.
I can't breathe fire like a dragon Shifter, or hex people who piss me off like Witches. I can't make potions like an Alchemist or seduce people like a Succubus. Now I don't mean to be unappreciative of the power I do have, it's interesting and all, but it just really doesn't pack much of a punch and most of the time it is just pretty much useless. My special magical skill is the ability to see threads of fate.
Most of life is annoying enough for me, and what never occurred to me is that my mate is a rude, pompous nuisance. He's an Alpha and my friend's twin brother.
“What are you doing? This is my home, you can't just let yourself in!” I try and keep my voice firm but when he turns and fixes me with his golden eyes I shrink back. The look he gives me is imperious and I automatically drop my eyes to the floor as is my habit. Then I force myself to look back up again. He doesn't notice me looking up because he's already looked away from me. He's being rude, I refuse to show that he's scaring me, even though he most definitely is. He glances around and after realising that the only place to sit is the little table with its two chairs he points to it.
“Sit.” he orders. I glare at him. Who is he to order me around like this? How can someone this obnoxious possibly be my soul mate? Maybe I'm still asleep. I pinch my arm and my eyes water a little from the sting of pain.
Don’t Poke the Luna
Independence is the only thing I’ve ever wanted. But more than one man seems to think he has a say in my future.
My fire has always been my strength... and my curse. I've paid the price for being unyielding. But I won’t stop. Not until I’m free. The real question is—how much more can I take before I break?