For the Love of Harmony

For the Love of Harmony By Leia Shaw

Chapter 1 The Northwest werewolf pack Council meeting had already begun by the time Sorin had arrived at the forest ranger station. Half a dozen of the pack‟s greatest warriors surrounded the large wooden table. He did a double take. Three women stood in one corner of the room, their eyes lit up with fiery determination. This was new. Jared inched to Sorin‟s side. “A vampire coven has moved in just outside pack territory,” he whispered. “There‟s evidence they might be feeding on the wolves. Jackson wants a preemptive attack but –” “It isn‟t fair to treat us this way!” a woman‟s voice cried out. Jared winced. “The women want to help.” Sorin‟s brows shot up. He eyed the women. So that explained the angry looks. He smiled to himself and sat down in the back to enjoy the show. The Council wouldn‟t allow it, that much he knew. Even for their pack – which was ruled by the progressive alpha, Cristian – it was an outrageous request. If their aggressive posturing was any indication, the women wouldn‟t go down easily. He hooked one leg over the other and leaned back. “Maybe they‟re right,” Paul, a younger pack member said. “Sheltering pack women is a thing of the past. It‟s time we moved on. Let them make the decision for themselves.” “Female werewolves are rare,” the eldest, Mathias replied. “And they aren‟t built like men. They can‟t change to crinos, our strongest half-wolf form. It‟s our duty to keep them safe from harm.” Sorin nodded in agreement. He always liked Mathias. “That‟s ridiculous,” a fiery redhead said. “It‟s the twenty-first century. Women have rights outside of the supernatural world. We should have rights within the pack too.” “It‟s not that we want to repress you, Darla,” Mathias continued. “The pack, above all, treasures your existence. We only want what‟s best for all of us.”

“At our expense?” she yelled. A small figure stepped out from behind the redhead. “He‟s right, Darla. It‟s best for the pack for us to remain safe.” Sorin‟s heart thudded in his chest and he shot upright in his seat. The speaker wasn‟t the most beautiful woman in the room – not like Darla with her fiery hair or the other raven haired beauty. She was short and curvy, and her shoulder length blonde hair hung plainly on the sides of her heart-shaped face. But a charming set of freckles spattered across her cheeks and her hazel eyes popped next to her creamy skin. There was something about her that drew him to her. Must be because she was the only sensible person in the room, other than himself. Her eyes sparkled with calculating intelligence. And the way her ranger uniform hugged her sexy little body brought more than just his heart to life. The redhead gave the woman a murderous glare then whispered, “Harmony!” Harmony. He smiled in spite of himself. Yes, she looked like a Harmony. Sweet, docile, a peacemaker. Harmony cut her friend off with wave of her hand. “The Council is right. If we go chasing vampires unprepared we‟ll only get hurt. Or worse. And it‟s vital to our pack to have female members.” Sorin grinned, sitting on the edge of his seat now. She took a deep breath then exhaled. “That‟s why I propose the women train in combat just like the men.” His grin faded. “If we can prove ourselves equals in combat, there‟s no reason you should deny our involvement. Not only will the double standard set a bad example to the rest of the pack, but once the other women catch word of your biases, you‟ll have a mutiny on your hands.” He narrowed his eyes at the little minx. He‟d show her where a mutiny got her. “We only ask for fairness,” she continued. “After all, it‟s Cristian‟s pack –” “He‟s not here to make the decision,” someone countered. “But his model of leadership stands. Every objection deserves a fair trial.” The other two women smirked as they looked each Council member in the eye. A growl started low in Sorin‟s chest as the other men contemplated her challenge. How had he ever thought her sensible, even for a moment?

Sorin stood so quickly he knocked the chair down behind him. He kicked it aside. From the other side of the room, Harmony‟s gaze flicked to his. He pierced her with his most intimidating glare then crossed his arms over his chest. She met his glare with a passable attempt at bravado. But because of her size, it only made him want to laugh. But there was nothing funny about the way she raised her chin and held eye contact far longer than she should have. They would have words when the meeting was over. Sorin was beta of the Northwest werewolf pack. Cristian, their alpha, was working with a vampire assassin to track down a serial killer. And Harmony, the devious little troublemaker, would learn exactly who was in charge of this camp. Sorin didn‟t bother to join the Council‟s discussion regarding the women‟s request. It didn‟t matter what they chose, his authority overrode theirs. The Council, and the women, should‟ve known better than to question pack rules when he was in charge. He was known for his old-fashioned views. Cristian had called him an ornery old man, though no werewolf looked a day over thirty-five. But Cristian and Sorin were in their fourth century, born of a different era. Cristian had adjusted throughout the years, but Sorin stuck to his stubborn ways. After all, his way was the right way. The women could think they‟d won for now. Besides, he had a feeling he‟d need to take down the ringleader before they backed down completely. As soon as the meeting ended, he caught up with Harmony outside the ranger station. Anger twisted his face into a scowl as he followed closely behind her, walking toward the center of camp. A bonfire roared, casting shadows on the ring of wooden cabins surrounding it. Harmony darted around the fire, her head down, hugging her arms. Bare arms. Nighttime just outside Yellowstone National Park in October was close to freezing. And she went out wearing only a button down cotton t-shirt? “Good God, woman!” He grabbed her elbow and spun her around. She gasped and he pulled his hand back. He hadn‟t meant to be so rough. “Where‟s your coat?” She looked at her arms then back to his face. “It ripped.” “How?” She bit her lip and didn‟t say anything for a moment. He narrowed his eyes, ready to sniff out a lie.

“Ranger work,” she finally answered, then perched a hand on her hip. “Is there something you wanted?” “Ranger work? What have you been doing? Wrestling bears?” Her gaze dropped to the ground and she mumbled, “Not bears.” Her head snapped back up. “Look, it‟s getting late. Did you stop me just to interrogate me about my jacket?” He squared his shoulders and gave her his sternest glare. “No. I came to tell you to convince the other women it‟s not in their best interest to fight vampires.” Her brows drew together. “Why would I do that? I just convinced the Council to give us a chance.” “Because I‟m telling you to.” She looked down at the ground again, clearly considering how to respond. He had the sudden urge to kiss the cute wrinkle between her furrowed brows. Now where the hell did that come from? He cleared his throat. “Do you know who I am?” She nodded. “So you know I‟m in charge while Cristian is away?” Though she nodded again there was nothing submissive about the fire in her eyes. She was working out her next argument. He found himself curious about what she would come up with. He mentally kicked himself. He didn‟t tolerant insubordination. Why should he allow this wisp of a thing to give him lip? “I‟m glad we‟re clear.” He turned to walk away. “Wait.” He closed his eyes and sighed before turning back around. “The Council agreed to let us train. I know Cristian believes in some amount of democracy.” He smiled without humor then clasped his hands behind his back as he strode toward her. “And who would train you? Do you really think there‟s a single male werewolf that would try to harm a female?” Her lips curved into a smirk. “I‟ll train them.” He arched a brow. “You?” She was so small. The idea of her anywhere near the combat ring sent waves of anxiety through his chest.

“Don‟t look at me like that,” she had the gall to order. “Size has nothing to do with skill.” “Care to prove it?” He would teach her a lesson. Then she wouldn‟t go around putting ridiculous ideas in the other women‟s heads. Her eyes widened then she schooled her features with a casual shrug. “Anytime, anyplace.” “Now. In the training ring.” “Now?” He grinned. “Unless you‟re bluffing.” She pursed her lips. “Now is fine.” Sorin turned and walked straight to the other side of camp where a flat dirt clearing served as a primitive training ring. She trailed behind him, not quite able to keep up with his longer strides. Since most of the pack was either working or doing various chores, they had the area to themselves. He plugged the stadium style lights into the recreation room socket and lit up the circle. “I‟ll make it easy,” he told her. “If I pin you, I win. If you get even one hit on me, you win.” “And what happens if I win?” “I‟ll let you train the women.” “And if you win?” With a smirk, he answered, “If I win, you go back to the kitchen and laundry room like a good little girl.” He swallowed back a laugh at her thinned lips and raging eyes. “I am so going to enjoy this.” “Ditto.” She stepped into the ring and crouched into a defensive position. Sorin threw off his coat and followed her. Wasting no time, she attacked with a series of kicks and strikes which he managed to dodge, but not without effort. So the wanna-be-slayer had some experience? At the next strike, he caught her fist and tugged her into his body. “You‟re not very harmonious, Harmony.” She pulled back on her arm but he held her tight. “Your parents should‟ve named you Major, middle name Trouble.”

“And they should‟ve named you Pain, middle name, In-the-ass.” With her other hand she yanked back on his thumb and twisted away. She circled him once, staying on the balls of her feet, before launching into a cartwheel and landing in a crouch in front of him. Her foot kicked out for a decent attempt at a foot sweep, but he was faster and jumped back. “You have some skill, I‟ll give you that,” he said, dodging a roundhouse kick. “But you‟re sloppy. You lack experience.” She stilled, pushing the wispy hair from her face. “Then teach me.” Now wasn‟t that an interesting thought. He pictured her sweaty, her cheeks pink, her chest heaving as he – He shook his head. “Not a woman.” Nostrils flaring, voice tight with anger, she said, “So what would you have me do? Sit around and wait for a big strong man to save me? Or maybe, the next time I‟m in trouble, superman will fly in at the exact right moment to kill the bad guy and save the day.” So the little hellion had a smart mouth too? “I‟m not Lois Lane. I refuse to be a damsel in distress.” He didn‟t wait for her attack this time. Catching her off guard, he feinted left then snatched her arm from the right. He spun her so her back was against his chest, and captured both wrists behind her. With his lips at her ear, he whispered, “What you should do is stay within the safety of the pack.” She snorted but stayed still in his arms. “Safety is an illusion. Grow up.” He spun her roughly to face him but kept her wrists captive in a tight grip. “Don‟t tell me to grow up, little girl. I‟ll bet I‟m more than twice your age.” She smiled sweetly. “Yet only half as smart.” Her foot shifted behind his and she threw her body into him, toppling them both off balance. They fell, Sorin cushioning her fall. But the advantage didn‟t last long. He flipped her over and straddled her hips, shackling her arms above her head in one of his fists. He smiled. She was good and pinned. “Yield, little hellcat. I think we know who won.” She struggled against him, her face reddening with exertion. “Come on, you lost. But you put up a good fight. I‟m impressed.” Her body froze except for rapid rise and fall of her chest. His gaze locked on her breasts, only now noticing how perfectly sized they were for his hands.

“You like hurting women, don‟t you?” That snapped him out of his daze. Fury built in his chest and he didn‟t hide it. “Excuse me?” “You get off on it.” He lowered his head so they were nose to nose. His lips formed a snarl and he bared his teeth. “I do not hurt women.” “You‟re hurting me now.” He blinked then released her as if he were touching a flame. He opened his mouth to apologize but she sat up and slammed both elbows into his chest. Next thing he knew, the clever girl had the pointy end of a dagger at his neck. And the little witch nicked him with it. Her mouth turned up in a lopsided grin. “Sucker.” She sheathed the knife in her belt and pushed him. He was too stunned to stop her from crawling out from under him. Gathering his wits – and his pride, which lay crippled on the ground – he watched her saunter away, a spring in her step. Her firm ass was just too tempting in the form-fitting khaki ranger uniform. And she was sassy enough to deserve it. So he jumped up and slapped her backside. She spun around and fixed him with an icy glare. But her twitching lips betrayed the offended front she tried to maintain. “That was a cheap shot.” “You deserved it.” Feminine pride be damned, he‟d never regret touching that fine ass. He waited, more eager than he‟d like, for her response. After a cold, calculating stare, she spun back around and tossed over her shoulder, “Let me know when you get a schedule for our training settled.” And she walked away. Though he‟d never felt so disrespected and frustrated, he couldn‟t seem to wipe a ridiculous grin off his face.

Chapter 2 The new moon called to Harmony like it did most werewolves. Her mind swirled with images of bounding across the meadows of the mountain valleys. She shuddered at the chill in the air, but it didn‟t stop her from stripping bare outside the back entrance of her cabin and shifting to her most primal form. A small, sandy-colored wolf. Sprinting across camp and through the woods, she caught up with her friends, Darla and Monica. They raced together through the tall grass under the starry sky. She relished the fresh mountain air, even if it was a little chilly. Her thick coat protected her and running pushed warm blood through her veins. There weren‟t many women left who could shift to their wolf form. When a werewolf became pregnant, she lost the ability to shift forever in order to keep the baby safe in her womb. Harmony would never choose to lose her wolf. She loved the wild edge it gave her as she ran off the stress of the last month. When she found a mate – if she found a mate – he would understand and accept her need for primitive freedom. She stilled when she caught the dangerous scent. Blood. Vampire. Nose to the wind, she followed it cautiously, knowing she was still a safe distance away from the source. Vampires in their territory were dangerous. They preyed on the natural wolf population. The wolves‟ blood, for some reason, had an addictive effect on vampires – it made them stronger and gave them a high they couldn‟t find elsewhere. The Northwest pack had been protecting the grey wolf population for centuries, fronting as forest rangers. If vampires were near, the pack needed to know where they were hiding. Harmony searched for her friends, but they‟d left her behind. She was alone. The scent was strong and she couldn‟t waste the opportunity to follow it. Plus, the Council couldn‟t keep writing her off if she proved herself as an asset. And she was no novice when it came to hunting vampires. So she slipped into the thick trees surrounding the meadow. Her nose led her to a wide stream where the scent died. It was too deep to cross in wolf form. She contemplated shifting, but crossing the cold river naked in October was suicide. She may not have the best judgment, but she wasn‟t stupid. And she didn‟t have a death wish. She turned around to head back to the meadow then froze when she spotted the midnight black wolf staring at her. Dangerous steel blue eyes withered her with a you‟re-in-deep-shit look.

If she was human, she‟d have sighed. She knew that look all too well, having been on the receiving end since joining the pack only a year ago. It wasn‟t her fault. She‟d been raised outside pack hierarchy. The adjustment from her liberal, rule-free upbringing was difficult, to say the least. A whiff of the air and she withered further. The wolf glaring daggers at her was none other than the pack beta she‟d sparred with a few days ago, Sorin. Had he been spying on her? Before their disagreement, she‟d admired him. Her wolf instincts perked up in the presence of any strong, masculine figure – a natural urge to mate with a man who could protect and provide. Though the human woman in her scoffed, she couldn‟t help but feel drawn to him, even if he was a barbaric, sexist, arrogant jerk. The black wolf inclined his head in the direction of camp then growled. Yeah, yeah, she got the message – get your ass out of trouble, young lady. Granted she wasn‟t centuries old like many werewolves, but she wasn‟t a child either. She‟d just recently hit her prime at twenty six and stopped aging. She started forward then stopped when the wolf jumped into her path. They stared at one another for a long, uncomfortable moment. If he thought she would belly-up for him, he was barking up the wrong tree. She‟d been told she had more guts than sense. It would probably cost her, but she remained standing, averting her eyes, but still on her feet. Finally, he bit her muzzle. Hard enough to shock her, but not hurt her. It was so very wolfy. She had the urge to bite him back, but even she knew better. Chagrined with the chastisement she trudged toward camp, Sorin escorting her the whole way. She wished he were in better spirits. She sorely needed some fun and would‟ve loved a race. But with his current mood, he‟d probably assume it was a challenge and bite her again once he caught her. If he could catch her. The temptation to find out was almost too much. As if he could read her thoughts, he growled. What now? He nudged her side and she realized she walked right by the trail to camp. She changed directions and plodded the rest of the way, feeling like a criminal with Sorin watchful behind her. He even walked her to her cabin and sat down at the bottom of the stairs. If he thought she‟d shift naked in front of him, he was sorely mistaken. She waited for him to leave. He didn‟t budge. She growled. He growled back.

Werewolves weren‟t modest creatures, having grown used to shifting in front of each other frequently. But something about being naked here and now, in front of Sorin specifically, made her feel especially vulnerable. But unless she planned to stay furry all night, it appeared she had no choice. A cold ripple swept through her body as her muscles bent and flexed and she stood human again. She spun around and pulled on her jeans and sweatshirt as fast as she could. “Could you at least turn around?” He just stared. Dressed and slightly warmer she reached for the doorknob to the cabin. A growl made her spin around again. He glared at the porch chair then back at her. A lower, fiercer growl erupted when she didn‟t respond. He wanted her to sit in the chair. With a sigh, she obeyed. “I‟ve never seen a wolf manage to sound so bossy,” she told him. When he continued to stare, she snapped, “I‟m sitting in the chair! Isn‟t that what you wanted?” He grunted at her tone then sauntered slowly into the woods. She pulled on the socks she‟d left under the chair then tucked her feet under butt. Suddenly concerned with her appearance, she smoothed her hair in a messy bun with an elastic from her pocket. When small tendrils fell out in the front, she blew out an exasperated breath. “Oh, why bother?” It wasn‟t as if she was trying to impress anyone. So she sat, waiting for him to return, positive she was in for more scolding. Five minutes later, Sorin emerged from the trees, dressed in jeans and a tight fitting black t-shirt. She‟d noticed his muscles when they sparred, but he‟d been on top of her, pinning her to the ground – she‟d hardly had time to appreciate such things. Things she could appreciate now, like the way his eyes sparkled with anger and sent shivers down her spine. Or that his jet black hair swept back from his face accentuated his chiseled jaw covered with a five o‟clock shadow she suddenly wanted to rub her cheek against. She shook her head, erasing the titillating images. “You bit me,” she accused when he ascended the stairs. Not an ounce of repentance showed on his face. “You deserved more than a nip on the nose, little girl.”

There was nothing worse than being talked down to. Her parents had raised her better than to allow that. She stood up, needing to feel taller. “Stop calling me that. I‟m not a child and you‟re not my father.” His gaze swept over her body, lingering a moment on her breasts. He exhaled a deep breath. “What were you doing out there?” “Running, just like everyone else.” Her gaze darted to the other cabins, looking for someone to corroborate her story. He shifted his body so he caught her attention. “Why were you following the vampire‟s scent?” Her heart accelerated and she swallowed hard. Shit. He knew. The floor seemed like an appropriate thing to look at just then. “Harmony.” His low voice, dark and dangerous, weakened her knees. “Look at me.” Slowly, she lifted her head to meet his gaze. He had a beautiful face. Too bad he could be such a prick. What a waste of hotness. Sorin peered down at her, piercing her with a stern glare. “Have you done that kind of thing before?” Technically, no. She‟d never run as a wolf, detected a vampire scent, and followed it alone. But she‟d certainly done other things regarding vampires that he wouldn‟t approve of. Considering it was safer, she chose to stick with a loose version of the truth. “No. I haven‟t.” His eyes narrowed. She tried to tame the pounding of her heart, but it was exceedingly difficult when he stood so close, his pinewood scent wrapping around her like a warm blanket. Maybe he was satisfied with her half-truth, or maybe he just wanted to get on with other lines of questioning, but he nodded and stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest. “You‟re never to do that again, do you understand?” His tone of voice mixed with the command chaffed at her independent streak. “Why?” His brows quirked. “Why? It‟s not safe, you ridiculous, careless girl.” She pursed her lips, holding back a string of profanities she‟d like to scream. “You seem to be taking an excessive interest in my extracurricular activities lately. Is there a reason?” “I could name you at least a dozen. Foremost, one of my duties is to keep the pack safe. And you have proven to be a paradigm of bad judgment. And I have a feeling you‟re not telling me the whole truth regarding your „extracurricular activities‟.” He stepped closer, crowding her

against the cabin wall. His eyes blazed with fire. “What were you thinking, hunting a vampire alone?” If she didn‟t know any better, she‟d have thought he actually cared about her. “If you ever do that again, so help me –” “I wasn‟t hunting it.” “Really?” He backed away and she could breathe again. “I was just….following it. To bring information back to the pack about its location.” She forced herself not to fumble with her hands and show her nerves. “I wasn‟t sure if anyone else noticed it.” “That‟s not for you to worry about.” He stepped toward her again. Laughter bubbled up in her throat. She felt like she was in a square dance. Step back, step forward. And, one, two, three… “Do you think this is funny?” She shook her head. “No. Sorry. I was….remembering a joke someone told me.” His lips formed a tight line. “Who taught you this blatant disrespect for authority? Who are your parents?” “You wouldn‟t know them. They‟re not pack.” “Who‟s pack then?” Here we go. “None.” His brows shot up. “Rogue? I should‟ve known.” Fury tightened in her chest. When it came to her parents, she was fiercely protective. No one, not even the pack alpha himself, would get away with criticizing them. “They‟re not rogue! They‟re independent and they taught me to be the same way.” She‟d grown up in Monterrey Bay where her human mother and werewolf father worked as activists for the aquarium, keeping the ocean clean and the marine life safe. It was an odd existence for a werewolf. Generally, they craved a pack – shared living, lots of children, even the constricting governing system. Harmony craved that too, but she couldn‟t change her upbringing. She was an only child, but not doted on. Her parents believed in freedom and independent thought. How her father managed to suppress his inner wolf was beyond her. But they did pass onto her their desire to fight for the environment. It was one of the things that drew Harmony to Cristian‟s pack. She‟d helped clean the beaches, now she protected the endangered wolves.

Sorin studied her face. He must have seen the emotion behind her words because he wisely dropped the subject. “Then what are you doing here, Miss Independent?” Another tough question. How did he know exactly what to ask to make her squirm? “Ah, I see,” he said after a quiet moment. “You‟re looking for a mate.” Her head snapped up in surprise. His lips curled in a half-smile. “You put on a tough act, but deep down inside, you want a man to own you.” Her eyes widened and she clasped her hands together to restrain from striking him. Hold your tongue, Harmony. “You chauvinistic pig!” Too late. “I am not a pet! Or cattle. I‟m an adult and I‟m here for the social connection. Not for a mate.” Liar, liar. Just to put a little sting in it, she added, “How did you get so surly and overbearing? Were you born in the ice age? The Neolithic era called, they want their caveman mentality back.” She could‟ve smacked herself in the forehead. Admittedly, it wasn‟t her best joke. He chuckled, surprising her when he didn‟t lose his temper at her tirade. “Not just a little girl far from home, but a geek too.” She closed her eyes. Must not kick pack beta. Must not kick pack beta. A finger under her chin tilted her head up. She opened her eyes. “What‟s going on in that head of yours?” Momentarily, she got lost in his deep blue eyes – eyes the color of the sky over the California ocean. “I‟m convincing myself not to kick you in the shins.” His lush mouth formed a smile, flashing perfect white teeth. “Yes, it would be very unwise to kick the beta.” “That‟s what I keep telling myself. Unfortunately, my body doesn‟t agree.” With a mischievous look in his eye, he said, “That‟s why you need a man. To keep you under control.” He chucked her under the chin. Oh, but he liked to torment her! She fought back the fire rising under her skin. “I suppose you‟re volunteering.” He snorted. “Knowing the trouble you‟d cause, honey, you couldn‟t pay me to do the job.” Then he turned and walked away. Just before stepping into the trees, he said over his shoulder, “No more vampire hunting, necazuri mea.”

The oldest werewolves had immigrated from Romania. Harmony was born and raised in America but had picked up enough Romanian around camp to translate what he called her. My troublemaker.

*** Sorin stepped into the woods, saturated in Harmony‟s scent. Wildflowers and salty air. It was driving him mad. She was driving him mad. Why had he called her such an affectionate name in Romanian? Necazuri mea. My troublemaker. It slipped from his lips too easily. She wasn‟t his anything. But the wolf in him clawed to the surface, demanding he protect the woman. The brassy, defiant, sweet-smelling woman that was currently giving him the hard-on of a lifetime. Maybe he needed to bed her. Maybe that would cleanse his system of her. Yeah, cause she’d surely go for that. She couldn‟t even stand talking to him. He‟d never had a problem seducing women before. Of course, he‟d never had a problem forcing compliance either. God, she represented everything he thought was wrong with the modern world! But for some reason, he couldn‟t get her off his mind. Defiant and passionate one moment, sweet and vulnerable the next. He never thought someone so contrary could get him so worked up. After a frustrated sigh, he headed to his cabin hoping he‟d at least get her out of his mind long enough to fall asleep. With his luck, she‟d probably haunt him in his dreams.

Chapter 3 “Good, Darla. But remember to keep your guard up, even after you strike.” Harmony watched the two women circle each other in the training ring. Since Sorin hadn‟t, after almost a week, provided a schedule for them to use the space, she took it upon herself to do as she pleased. Sure, she might have made up a few stories to convince the men using it to leave when the three women had the time to train. It couldn‟t be verified, but she might have told one or two that the generator caught fire. She also might have told one of them that his prized mustang convertible had been stolen when somebody – not naming names – had really hotwired it and parked it ten miles down the road. But it was worth it because her friends had made a lot of progress in the last few days. Of course, werewolves had some natural ability in that aspect – faster reflexes, heightened senses, strength. Darla aimed a high kick at Monica‟s head and she ducked, counteracting with a strike to the stomach. “Where‟d you learn this anyway?” Monica asked. “My best friend growing up.” She smiled at the fond memories she‟d shared with the human, Zachary. She never had girlfriends. When most girls were at dance class or playing dress-up, Harmony was rescuing stranded jellyfish and having stick fights with local boys. “Chuck Norris movies helped.” “Uh-oh,” Monica said. Both girls froze, their gazes locked on something behind Harmony. She spun around to see Sorin headed their way. And he looked pissed. “Oh, boy,” she muttered. “We‟ll cover you if you want to run,” Darla offered. She gave her a sideways glance. “Don‟t be ridiculous. I can handle him. Besides, we have nothing to be ashamed of. We didn‟t do anything wrong.” Well, that was a matter of opinion. But Sorin couldn‟t know they had anything to do with the rumors of pranksters circulating around camp. Those icy blue eyes cut into her so fiercely she flinched. He flexed and extended his fingers as if he were imagining strangling her. He inhaled a deep breath. She could tell he was

making quite an effort to keep his anger under control. Impressive, considering he wasn‟t known for his tolerance. “I need to talk to you,” he said calmly. Maybe the man could be reasonable. Now, if she could manage not to provoke him, she might make it through this. She nodded and stepped away from her friends, following him into the surrounding forest. Less than a football field‟s distance in, he stopped and turned to face her. “Did you tell Marcus there was a raccoon in his cabin?” She choked on a laugh. When a snarl started in his chest she tried to cover it with a cough. “I have never been so…” He trailed with a frustrated sigh. “It‟s all right. I‟ll just fill in the blank. Angry, disappointed, annoyed.” Blah, blah, blah. “Yes, to all three.” Then his gaze zeroed in on her cheek. His hand reached up and touched the scabbed over gash across her cheek bone. “Where did you get this?” His touch was tender and much too enjoyable for her liking, especially since he still looked like he wanted to throttle her. She swallowed hard. “Ranger work.” He arched a brow and dropped his hand. “More specifically?” A fight with a vampire she‟d staked with a silver blade. “Forest ranger work.” She stared at her hiking boots, afraid to see the ire no doubt building in his eyes. “Woman!” he hissed and she winced. So much for not provoking him. His fists clenched and nostrils flared as he paced back and forth before her. She stood still, trying to appear innocent and repentant. But she wasn‟t trying to challenge or frustrate him. She was just being herself. After a moment he swung around to pin her with a furious glare. “I told you to stop filling the women‟s heads with nonsense that you know isn‟t going to happen!” Not that again. “I know no such thing. I proved myself when we had our duel.” “You cheated.” She cocked her head. “Is there such thing in a fight?” “Of course there is,” he snapped. “We were hand-to-hand. We didn‟t agree on weapons.” She raised her brows. “So you‟re saying if I was attacked by a vampire, I shouldn‟t use a weapon if we don‟t agree on it first?”

“No, that‟s not –” He cut off with a growl and ran a hand through his hair. She took a step back. An agitated werewolf was not someone to have a picnic with. He noticed her retreat and gave her a sharp glare. “Don‟t think you‟re going anywhere. I‟m not done with you.” She rolled her eyes. With one large stride, he closed the distance between them and leaned over her. “I won‟t let women fight vampires, Harmony. So get it out of your head.” A looming, pissed off werewolf – what a novel concept. If she were smart, she‟d backpedal and flip to submissive mode right now. Unfortunately, she was smart, just not always wise. “What gives you the right to decide that?” “Do you think a pack works like a democracy? Might makes right. I will stop you.” Her gaze dropped to his body, fit and defined. She gulped. No doubt he could stop her. But why? How did she suddenly come under the scrutiny of the pack beta? And why did he keep getting all worked up about her safety? She furrowed her brow and studied the intense emotion lurking in his eyes. “Why do you care what I do?” It was a question of curiosity, not challenge. His mouth opened then snapped shut. She waited for the gruff response but he froze, as if he didn‟t know the answer himself. Then he blinked and spun away. “Fuck!” Several deep breaths later, he turned back around, his eyes black with rage. “Look. Stay away from the fight or –” “Or what?” Her patience was dwindling. The contrary man made her blood boil. “I‟m not a child you can dictate to. And I don‟t answer to you.” His eyes widened and he bared his teeth. She could‟ve kicked herself. That was the wrong thing to say, dummy! “I am beta of this pack, goddamn it!” She sighed. Already pissed him off, might as well say my peace. “This is about your pride, isn‟t it? Your ego is bruised „cause I bested you.” “You didn‟t best me and…woman!” He exhaled a breath and closed his eyes. “It‟s about your safety.” The last part was soft, almost tender. My God, the man is a walking contradiction.

Before she could respond, he grabbed her arm in a tight grip and whispered, “If you and your little groupies go near that fight, Harmony, there will be hell to pay. And you‟ll be the first to get it.” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you threatening me?” “Damn right I am. And you should know, I don‟t threaten idly.” She looked down at his painful grip on her arm then back at his blackened eyes. “I‟m not scared of you.” Damn it, her voice shook. His hand moved from her arm to her throat so fast she gasped. He didn‟t squeeze, just held her still, making her feel small and vulnerable. “You should be,” he whispered. She should say something, stand up for herself. But she was trapped in his glacial eyes, which measured her, stripping her bare. The comforting scent of pinewood enveloped her. He slid his hand to her nape and pulled her into his body. Holy Jesus, he’s going to kiss me. And he did. Good and hard. And just like the rest of him, his kiss was commanding, gruff, and held nothing back. She leaned back from the force of it, but he wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her still. She couldn‟t breathe, couldn‟t pull away, all she could do was take it. Need slammed into her hard. Not just a lustful physical ache, but a need for emotional connection. Her knees wobbled and a slow throb pulsed between her legs. She was turned on? By this egotistical, brute of a man? Not just turned on, but tuned in. Suddenly, their hearts beat to the same rhythm. His scent blended with hers, causing a tingly warmth to spread from her belly. She clutched his shoulders and pulled him closer though they couldn‟t possibly get any closer unless she crawled inside him. She needed him like she needed air. And it scared her. His hand moved down and clutched her ass, grinding her hips against his erection. This was bad. Very, very bad. But, oh, it felt so good. When he finally pulled away, he gave her a look of stark longing. “You should be very afraid.” Trembling and confused, she didn‟t stop him when he pushed her back against a tree. He kissed her again. At the same time, he unbuttoned her jeans and snaked his hand down her pants. She squeaked and tensed, but he shoved his tongue in her mouth, cutting off any protest. When

his fingers found the wet spot between her legs, she moaned and rocked into him. He stroked her, pressing firmly on her clit and she almost flew out of her skin. She pulled away from his mouth so she could breathe. “Oh, God!” Her head fell back against the tree and Sorin took the opportunity to nibble and kiss her exposed neck. His fingers worked magic on her throbbing flesh until she was ready to beg him to enter her. “You‟re mine,” he rasped against her ear. Then he bit her. Hard. On the side of her neck. It sent her over the edge. Sorin muffled her scream with his lips as the orgasm hit her hard. Pleasure soared through her nerves. Her knees shook and she almost sunk to the ground, but Sorin held her up with an arm around her waist. When her breathing slowed, he pulled away and buttoned her pants. Holy shit. She just had an orgasm under a tree with the pack beta‟s hand down her pants. Before she could utter a word, he spun her roughly to face the tree. She braced herself with her hands on the trunk. What the hell? A palm landed sharply on her backside. “No more training,” he ordered. She yelped and tried to turn around, but he kept her pinned with a hand on her back. Another firm slap. “No more torturing my men.” And another, harder swat. “And for God‟s sake, no more vampires!” He released her and she swung around, angry and blushing. Not only did the scolding sting, but the indignity! “You said you don‟t hit women!” She fought back the urge to clutch her ass. She wouldn‟t give him the satisfaction of knowing it hurt. He gave her one of those unrepentant looks that made her hackles rise. “Love pats. And I‟ll do it again if I have to. As part of this pack you will obey the hierarchy or you will suffer the consequences.” His voice dropped to a husky whisper, “But as my lover, submit to my mastery and you‟ll receive pleasure.” A chill raced down her spine. Could she actually want this man‟s domination? Did that really turn her on? The contrary emotions made her head spin and her temper fly. She snarled, “Love? Do you even know what that is?” “Do you?” “I know what love isn‟t. It isn‟t control.” He flinched back like she‟d hit him. Had she hurt his feelings? But it was true and her parents had taught her to always stand up for the truth, even if it hurt.

After a moment of silence, he growled, “Just do as I say.” Then he stormed away. She watched him leave, feeling annoyed and tingly all over. But was she tingly because she was annoyed? Or annoyed because his gruff commands made her tingly? Or were the tingles leftover from the mind-blowing orgasm – Oh, just stop it! The man had spanked her. He‟d actually held her still and smacked her ass like she was an errant child. She shouldn‟t be having tingles of any kind! Defeated and confused, she trudged to the training ring. “Sorry,” she said to Darla and Monica. “I did the best that I could but he‟s more stubborn than I thought. He won‟t let us fight. Might as well go to dinner now.” “You‟re just gonna give up?” Darla asked. She sighed. “I think he‟ll kill me if I don‟t.” His angry glare flashed in her mind. “Or beat me at the very least.” “Sorin wouldn‟t hurt a woman,” Monica insisted. “You didn‟t see his face.” Or his hand slapping my ass. She grabbed her coat from the ground and brushed it off. “No. We‟ll skip this fight. There‟ll be others and I‟ll keep chipping away at Sorin and the Council. I don‟t give up easily.” Darla grumbled but both women acquiesced. Shoulders slouched, they grabbed their bags then walked toward her. Darla‟s gaze locked on Harmony‟s neck and her nose scrunched. “Hey, what happened to your neck?” “My neck? What –” She gasped. That‟s right, Sorin had bit her. Shit! Without another word, she ran straight to her cabin, slamming the door behind her. She flipped on the bathroom light and stared at the mirror. On the bottom right side of her neck, a dark red bruise, stark and painfully obvious, stood out against her white skin. Sorin, the Northwest pack beta, had marked her.

Chapter 4 Harmony shot up in bed. The rolling thunder in the distance startled her awake. Flashes of lightening outside were her only source of light. She glanced at the two empty beds in her cabin then remembered she‟d traded the night shift with Monica, and Darla was visiting her grandparents in Nevada. Though she‟d been raised outside pack, she was a pack creature by nature and sleeping alone still kind of freaked her out. And she‟d just had a horrifying nightmare. She shuddered and clutched her blanket closer. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she couldn‟t seem to shake the uneasy feeling that something was watching her. The rain pounded on the cabin roof, drowning out any sound of an enemy. Out of the corner of her eye, a figure moved outside her window. Or were her eyes playing tricks on her? There were cabins on either side of hers but suddenly she felt utterly alone. And some menacing presence had her hair standing on end. A loud bang from behind the cabin startled a squeak out of her. Without another thought she dashed out of the cabin and into the pouring rain. Her bare feet splashed through the mud puddles as she sprinted to the other side of camp, instinct driving her toward the person she felt safest with. She didn‟t bother to knock. The lights were off so its inhabitant was either sleeping or working. She stepped inside and looked for his figure in the bed. A soft, rhythmic snoring filled the sudden quiet. Now what? Suddenly, this whole thing seemed really stupid. Waking the pack beta? Because of a bad dream and a thunderstorm? Idiot! She turned around to slip back out but a hand caught her around the throat and shoved her into the wall. The only thing she had time to do was gasp. The powerful creature bore down on her like an angry bear and robbed her of breath. “Harmony?” Sorin said, his voice filled with sleepy confusion. The hand on her throat pulled away and she sagged against the wall. His footsteps pounded across the wood floor then the room filled with light.

After she caught her breath, she drank him in greedily. Wearing only black boxer shorts, his abs rippled in six very distinct lines. His biceps bulged like a boxer and his disheveled hair made him look like he‟d just come off a fight. God, she‟d never seen anything so sexy. His brow furrowed and his lips curled down in a frown. “What are you doing here? What‟s wrong?” “I, um…ugh, it sounds stupid now…” He relaxed his posture and strode toward her. “If it brought you here at,” he glanced at the clock, “Christ! Two in the morning.” He sighed and rubbed his bleary face. “If it brought you here at two in the morning, it can‟t be stupid.” She fumbled with her hands. “I had a nightmare. When I woke up it felt like someone was watching me.” “Did you see anyone? Smell anyone?” She shook her head. “I didn‟t scan. I came straight here.” Looking down at the floor she mumbled, “I‟m an idiot. I should have –” He grabbed her hands and squeezed them. “No. You did the right thing.” He pulled her to a chair next to a small desk. “Sit down.” Somewhat forcefully, he pushed her into the chair. As shaken as she was, she still couldn‟t tear her gaze away from that fine ass when he bent over to pull on a pair of jeans. “I‟m gonna have a look around,” he said. “Wait!” She jumped to her feet. “Don‟t leave me.” Wimp! How will you ever prove yourself as a serious warrior if you’re scared of a little thunderstorm? With a patient sigh, he crossed the room and sat her back in the chair. “I won‟t be far.” Her face must have shown her terror because he pulled out his phone and murmured a few instructions into it. He hung up the phone and stroked her wet hair, calming her in a way that surprised her. Where was the arrogant teasing? Where was the superiority complex? “Seth is outside. I‟ll be right back. Just try to relax. You‟re safe here.” She nodded and watched him walk out into the rain then studied his room while he was gone. Like most of the camp‟s cabins, it had a high rafter ceiling with wood floor and walls. The large bed took up most of the space with a dresser, desk, and the chair she occupied on the other side of the room. She was surprised to find his space so clean and orderly. No empty beer cans,

dirty socks, or condom wrappers. Not bad for a bachelor. But if she knew men, there was a drawer somewhere that contained his deepest secrets. For a moment she considered snooping. That’s not you, Harmony. She resisted the impulse and sat shivering instead, jumping at every little noise from outside. Sorin came back only ten minutes later. She stood. “Did you find anything?” “No.” He grabbed a towel from the attached bathroom and dried off his wet chest and hair then stripped off his jeans. Despite feeling like a frozen popsicle, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I‟m sorry. I really thought there was something –” “Hey.” Suddenly he was much too close. “I believe you.” He ran a hand down her bare arm. “Jesus, you‟re shaking. And you‟re frozen to the bone. Come on.” He gestured to her shirt. “Take that off.” “What?” “You‟ve gotta get dry, sweetheart.” Rolling his eyes at her hesitation, he added, “Here, I‟ll give you a shirt.” When he turned around to grab a t-shirt from his dresser, she pulled her wet one off. He tossed her a dry one then watched her from the other side of the room. “Turn around!” He gave her a lopsided grin. “No sense getting modest now. I‟ve already seen it.” His gaze raked her head-to-toe. “All of it.” She scowled because he was right. She pulled his shirt over her head, which fell down to her knees, then chucked her pants and underwear too. He pulled back the covers and climbed in bed. Then he looked at her. “Well, come on. Get in the bed.” She blinked. What did you expect, Harmony, to run back to your room half naked in the rain? “Unless you want to go back to your cabin...” She shook her head.

“I thought not. Get in.” He held the blankets up and motioned to the empty spot next to him. It looked warm and comfortable. But crawling into bed with a man who lit her on fire with just a look was a bad idea, no matter how cozy it appeared and how frozen her toes. “With you?” she asked, trembling a bit. “Of course. It‟s my bed.” That snapped her out of her stunned daze. Of course he would be arrogant about it. She huffed, “I was looking for a noble hero. I guess I picked the wrong cabin.” She slid into the bed and curled up under the blanket. A chuckle of male amusement tickled her ear as he tugged her into the shelter of his arms. “You don‟t want a gentleman. You want an animal.” She lifted her head. “How do you know what I want?” “‟Cause it‟s me you‟ll be having, woman. I‟m an animal and you‟ll take me the way I am.” “Cocky bastard.” She almost laughed at his blatant arrogance. “Sassy witch.” She slapped his chest playfully. “Be quiet and let me sleep.” His hand trailed down her arm then lingered on her hip, sending a wave of lust through her. “Oh, darling, there‟ll be no sleeping until we‟ve settled things between us.” Her head popped up again. “What things?” “Well, there‟s the matter of you lying half naked in my bed, smelling good enough to eat.” “That was your idea!” Ignoring her, he went on. “Then there‟s the matter of your punishment.” Her heart thudded in her chest. “Punishment?” “For disobeying the pack beta.” Submit to my mastery and you’ll receive pleasure. The words hung in her head and she shuddered. What exactly did he mean? No way was she ready to find out. “I‟ll show you punishment.” She pinched his nipple. “Ow! Double punishment now.”

Suddenly, she was underneath him, his weight pinning her to the bed. “Double punishment? That‟s the most ridiculous thing I‟ve ever heard.” She laughed and squirmed when he nibbled the spot behind her ear. “Uh-huh. Just you wait.” “I‟m not scared of you.” He lifted his head and stared down at her. “I know. That‟s why I like you. You have no sense, but I like you anyway.” She stopped breathing, caught in his deep blue eyes. For all his barbaric faults, he was a loyal, honest, hard-working man. And he just might be hers. The thought should have flooded her with fear. But studying the proud man looking down at her, a warm tingly sensation built inside her. Hesitantly, she touched his face. He held still and let her explore him. She liked his unshaven cheeks though the scratchiness chaffed her skin. It made him look rugged and manly. She ran her fingertips over his lips. Just to goad him, she said, “Your lips are so soft and girly. I really must know what you use on them.” He nipped the finger near his mouth and she jerked her hand back. “Ow!” “Time for your punishment.” He left the bed and retrieved something from a drawer. He returned to the side of the bed and stood over her. “Give me your hands.” “W-what?” A flicker of fear made her heart pound. He leaned over and brushed a kiss across her forehead. “Trust me, sweetheart. I won‟t hurt you. And I think you‟ll like this.” He rose back to his full height, then ordered, “Now, give me your hands. She obeyed, hoping her trust wouldn‟t prove to be unfounded. He took her hands and wrapped a silk tie around each wrist. Her heart beat frantically as the soft fabric glided over her sensitive skin. He was going to tie her up, make her helpless and vulnerable to his every desire. A rush of liquid heated her core and she shivered in excitement. When her wrists were tied securely together, he pulled her arms tight above her head and fastened them to the headboard. She experimented with the strength of the bonds, tugging a little

at first, half-expecting to be able to slip away. When she couldn‟t budge more than an inch, she pulled harder, using all her strength. Shit. She was good and stuck. He looked her over, a grin spreading across his handsome face and what felt like a thousand butterflies danced in her belly. She squirmed and his t-shirt rubbed against her aching nipples. T-shirt. She was still wearing his shirt. A bubble of nervous laughter erupted in her throat. “You forgot to take off the t-shirt before you tied me up. Not so great at this, are you?” Never taking his gaze off her, his grin widened then he ripped through the t-shirt, top to bottom, leaving her fully exposed. “You were saying?” Normally, his arrogance was more than annoying. In bed, it was deliciously sexy. A dominant male who would take her pleasure into his hands – it went against every feminist concept she believed in, but some reason, it was hot as hell. “Do I scare you now, little girl?” He crawled up her body like the predatory wolf he was, kissing and nibbling as he went. He more than scared her. She was terrified. And excited. And nervous. And – Her breath hitched when he stroked between her legs. Eyes sparkling with lust, he said, “You‟re wet. You do like this.” He tsked under his tongue as he stroked her lightly. “Naughty girl. I don‟t know if I‟ll last through your punishment. You‟re beautiful, bound and helpless. At my mercy in every way.” His teeth scraped against her breast as he continued to tease her clit. “Ohhhh…God,” she moaned. He chuckled then removed his hand from that sweet spot. She whimpered and started to protest but he cut her off with a warning look. “I‟m in control, darling. All you have to do is let go and enjoy it.” He placed both hands at her shoulders then glided firmly down over her breasts, pinching each nipple before continuing down either side of her hips, under her ass then down her legs. Chills raced down her spine and goose bumps covered her skin. Her muscles relaxed into the bed. “I love every delectable inch of your body,” he said, bringing his hands back to her breasts and kneading them before tasting each one. His tongue swirled around the sensitive peak,

sending sparks straight down to her swollen clit. If her hands had been free, she would‟ve dug her fingernails into his back and pulled him inside her. But all she could do was clench her fists and squirm. She was burning up, the ache almost painful. “Sorin. Please.” His cocky smile made her want to kick him. “Yes, my little troublemaker?” “Do what you were doing before.” His brows shot up. “What? Down here?” His fingers returned to the spot between her folds and pressed down on her clit. She arched off the bed with a shout. And just like that, his hand was gone. “I think not. You don‟t make the rules, I do.” Frustration got the better of her and she kicked at him. He caught her foot. “Now, that‟s not very nice. And not good behavior for someone who wants something I have.” She groaned and tried to rub against him, but he backed away. “Then let me loose and I‟ll give it to myself. Or find someone –” Suddenly, they were nose to nose. He glared down at her, all playfulness wiped away. “Never. I‟m the only one satisfying you from now on, Harmony. Do you understand me? I‟m a possessive man and you belong only to me.” He bit her neck, the same spot he‟d marked earlier. The short burst of pain sent a shock of pleasure through her body. His tongue soothed the bruise and she moaned. “You‟re mine,” he rasped. “And by the end of the night, you‟ll know it.” By the end of the night? As if he weren‟t making it perfectly clear right now! He went to work, teasing and tormenting her. Nibbling her breasts, kissing the breath out of her, rubbing his thickness between her legs. Until, finally, he made his way down the bed, gripped her thighs, and held them open. The first sweep of his tongue sent her hips flying off the bed. Slowly, but firmly, he pushed her back down. Then he continued the gradual torment of her clit, alternating between a soft tickle and firm strokes. She panted and gasped, squirmed and screamed. “If this is punishment, I should disobey you more often.” He laughed. “I wouldn‟t be too sure about that.” He brought her so close to climax, she begged him for it. But he stopped and rose up from the bed.

She was on fire, aching and throbbing. “What are you doing?” “I‟m in need of a shower.” “What? Right now? No!” He grinned. “Yes, right now.” Her eyes widened. He’s joking. He’s got to be joking. “Very funny. I get your point. Now come and finish me.” “Punishment, remember?” Anger and frustration heated her blood and she tried to kick him again. “Sorin! Don‟t you dare!” He winked then turned and walked away. “Get back here! I‟ll kill you!” The water turned on. “Damn it! Sorin!” He left the door wide open and she lifted her head to watch him shower. Fuck all! The way the bed was angled, she couldn‟t see a damn thing. She whimpered and cursed, feeling so hot she could burst into flames. This was just plain mean. How could she think he was her mate? “Bastard!” Five minutes later – though they felt like hours, she resentfully acknowledged it could‟ve been worse – he emerged, naked and aroused, from the bathroom. Drops of water dotted across his well-formed chest. His wet hair hung around his face, framing those bright blue eyes. God, she needed him. Now! His gaze felt like white hot fingertips gliding over her body. She squeezed her legs together to soothe the ache. Without a word he retrieved something from the drawer. Oh, God, what now? She was relieved when he returned to the edge of the bed with a condom. He arched a brow, his lips twitching with a repressed smile. “Have you thought about your transgressions?” “Oh, shut up and do me!” His superior smile chaffed at her nerves like the binds on her skin. He sat down next to her on the bed. “You‟re still not getting it, are you?” He ran his fingertips down the side of her breast and she arched into him like a cat. “I‟m in control of your pleasure. I can give it,” he tweaked one nipple and she gasped, “or I can take it away.” His hand disappeared. “No! Please.”

“Please, what?” She forced her gaze to the ceiling, away from that beautiful, tempting body. She would not beg. “Harmony.” His deep, masculine voice sent shivers down her spine. “Look at me.” Whimpering, she shifted her gaze to his face. His eyes, dark and intense, seemed to rip through her soul. “Damn you‟re beautiful,” he breathed. Maybe she would beg. He tickled her thigh with a fingertip. “Do you want to come?” She nodded. He kissed her, deep and long. Then, with torturously slow movements, he untied her hands. As soon as she was free, she punched him hard in the gut. He grunted and grabbed her wrists. “You‟re asking for another set of love pats, sweetheart.” With eyes wide, she stilled her body. He grinned. “That‟s better. Now turn over.” Trembling, she did as she was told. His body rose up over hers. Strong fingers gripped her hips and raised them while his other hand pushed down on her shoulders. His calloused palm stroked her ass and she thought he might have changed his mind about those love pats, but a second later he slid into her wetness. “Yes!” she cried. He filled her completely, hitting just the right spots to make her see stars. He thrust hard and their skin slapped together. Her groans echoed in the cabin. Faster he moved, pushing her pleasure higher and higher, gripping her hips with bruising force. He was so strong, so commanding, like his kiss, she found it was all she could do to take what he gave her. Her cries grew louder, his thrusts grew faster. Just before she was ready to let go, he flipped her over and slid back into place with her beneath him. “You‟re mine,” he rasped as he rode her. “Say it.” “Yes.” Her breasts bounced with each thrust. “I‟m yours.” He leaned down and latched onto one of her nipples, sucking so hard she screamed in pleasure.

“Come, baby,” he commanded. “Come for me.” Three more hard thrusts and she did. Pleasure seized her, rolling through her body like a wave. Her muscles wobbled and her legs collapsed while Sorin let out a loud groan and finished inside her. His rapid breaths tickled her ear as he let his weight fall on top of her, crushing her into the mattress. He covered her face and neck with kisses. At her ear, he whispered, “Told ya‟ you wanted an animal.” His weight lifted from her body leaving her empty and cold. But she couldn‟t move even to pull the blanket on. She was a limp noodle. A happy, sleepy, well-satisfied, limp noodle. The bed dipped and Sorin rolled her into his arms. Her head rested on his chest. She sighed contentedly before remembering the torture he‟d put her through. She pinched him. “Don‟t ever do that again.” In a state of post-orgasmic bliss, her words lacked heat. He laughed then grabbed the hand that assaulted him and kissed it. “I can‟t believe you left me like that.” “I didn‟t really leave you. I was only a few yards away. And wasn‟t that the best orgasm you‟ve ever had?” “Yes.” Submission had been nerve-wracking at first, but Sorin had done something no one else ever had. He‟d inspired her willingness to let go of control. Grinning against his chest, she added, “But you know that only means you‟ll have to top it next time.” His chuckle rumbled under her cheek. “Mm…you may be a willful pain in the ass,” he said tenderly, patting her naked rear, “but you‟ll do.” I’ll do? Clearly her mate wasn‟t the romantic type. But she couldn‟t deny he made up for it in sexual prowess. Feeling satisfied and positively glowing, she drifted off into a peaceful sleep. “Are you awake?” Sorin‟s voice startled her from dreamland. “I am now.” “What you said before…” He stopped and seemed to consider his words. “When you said love isn‟t about control…what did you mean?” The insecurity in his voice charmed her down to her toes. “Well. I just think that love is supposed to empower, not subdue. To love someone unconditionally, is to give them the freedom to be who they are. There‟s no room for control. If you‟re telling someone who they should or

shouldn‟t be…well, that‟s not unconditional, is it? And there‟s no such thing as conditional love.” She waited for his response, but he stayed quiet, so she continued. “My dad always said love is like a stallion. You can try to tame it but you‟ll miss out on its most beautiful form.” She snuggled closer to his warmth. “When it‟s wild and free, with no restricting fences, it can go on forever.” He didn‟t say anything for a moment and her lids grew heavy. His deep voice shook her awake again. “But, if you love someone, you do what‟s best for them.” Though he phrased it as a statement, she heard the question in his voice. “No. If you love someone, you support them in figuring out what‟s best for themselves.” With a drowsy yawn, she asked, “Where did you get your ideas about love anyway?” She fell asleep waiting for his answer.

Chapter 5 How could Sorin spend a whole night in bed with a woman then miss her so much his heart ached only a few hours after they parted? Harmony‟s work shift started at six in the morning. If he‟d known that he wouldn‟t have kept her up so late. Visions from last night formed in his mind – her naked body laid out across the bed, arms restrained overhead, her creamy breasts plump and nipples begging to be licked. No, he still would‟ve kept her up. She‟d surrendered to his dominion, though not without some fight. He chuckled remembering the bite of her anger when he‟d left her to take a shower. It‟d been the most painful shower he‟d ever had – and having been raised under the heavy hand, and belt, of a strict, religious father, that was saying a lot. But the screams in his ears when she‟d finally come had been worth it. By God, she was a responsive, passionate little thing. Intelligent and witty, soft and sweet. After the kiss they‟d shared two nights ago, there was no doubt she was his. His mate. To protect, to treasure, to love, forever. He hadn‟t known having a mate could make him feel so…alive. He craved her like he craved the moon. The possessive streak of a mated werewolf male had come roaring to the surface that morning when she‟d left his bed. The thought of his mate working alongside men – most of whom were werewolves – eight hours out of the day nagged at him. He‟d held her down before she left and marked her again, just to be sure they‟d know she was taken. She‟d rolled her eyes and threatened to kick his ass in the training ring again. He‟d almost tied her to the bed and had his wicked way with her, she was so damned cute. Cute? He shook his head. Since when did Sorin, pack beta and son of Ivander, the Romanian clergyman of the Fier pack, ever use the word “cute”? To obey authority invites the Lord’s favor. To question authority invites His wrath. How many times had his father said those words when Sorin was a child? Ivander believed himself to be the divinely appointed wrath of God – one to mete out justice in His name. And Sorin had been on the receiving end of those lessons far too often. The child in him rejoiced at Harmony‟s innocent defiance – which wasn‟t really defiance at all, just a proud desire to stand up for what she believed in. He‟d almost felt bad when she‟d asked him, again, to join

the fight against vampires. But he‟d told her, in no uncertain terms, that it was forbidden. His heart gave a satisfied leap when the spitfire determination burned in her eyes. She wouldn‟t give up. Not like his mother. His last memory of his mom made his heart clench and sadness lodge in his throat. A woman, broken, stripped down to nothing. Emotionless, vacant from years of repression. “I know what love isn’t,” Harmony had said only a few nights ago. “It isn’t control.” “Sorin, my man,” Luke clapped him on the back. “What are you thinking about so hard? I can see steam coming out of your ears.” By the time the fog cleared from Sorin‟s mind, the pack picnic had begun. “Nothing,” he mumbled to his friend. Luke shrugged then left to stand in line for food. He stood to the side as families filled plates with delicious smelling food lined up on tables outside. Bands of children wove through the chatting grown-ups, shrieking and laughing. Women prattled about baking recipes with babies on their hips. Usually he‟d be first in line for food, discussing war strategies with the men. But today he watched the world go by, his thoughts never straying far from his mate. A child – about six or seven years old – caught his attention standing by a nearby stream. A tree had fallen over it creating a small footbridge for someone with good enough coordination to cross. But that child was so small. Sorin scanned the area for the boy‟s parents. He found Paul, his father, sitting calmly at a nearby table. Sorin approached him, gesturing to the boy now hesitantly placing a foot on the tree. “You gonna do something about that?” Paul looked at his son then back down at his food. “He‟ll call me if he needs help.” Careful not to sound like a worried mother hen, he said, “It looks like he‟s gonna try to cross it.” Paul smiled. “I would guess so. His brother‟s been doing it all day. I think he can make it. If not, it‟s not a far drop to the water.” Sorin‟s brows shot up. “The current can be fast.” “He‟s a strong swimmer. And I‟m here if he needs me.” He couldn‟t calm the pounding of his heart as the little boy moved slowly, step-by-step, across the tree. He breathed a sigh of relief when he made it to the other side. The boy beamed then looked at his father. “I did it!”

Paul yelled back, “I knew you could!” The boy went happily along and Paul finished his dinner, completely unfazed by the harrowing event. Love empowers.

Chapter 6 Harmony watched the men as they prepared for the battle with the vampire coven. She was under strict orders to stay in camp with promises of more love pats if she didn‟t. Sorin, the bold, assuming male, had her things moved to his cabin while she was at breakfast. She‟d ranted about his archaic treatment and he grinned the whole time. He‟d kissed her fiercely, reminded her to stay in camp then left with the other warriors. Harmony made her way to her cabin – and it was still her cabin, pushy werewolf be damned – where Darla and Monica waited to grill her about her relationship with Sorin. She didn‟t have girlfriends growing up so sharing about her passionate night two days ago was a novel idea. Not having had a lot of experience with men, some advice wouldn‟t hurt either. But before she made up the cabin steps, Darla burst out of the room and shoved a cell phone under her nose. “Is this phone from the vampire you killed last week?” “Yeah, why?” “Look at the text!” Darla‟s eyes were wide, her hands shaking. Harmony took the phone and read the text she was in a panic about. Wolf howl. 10am. NV coven here. Nevada coven? Shit. The Montana coven knew about the attack. And they‟d called in reinforcements. “It‟s an ambush!” Darla cried. Harmony didn‟t hesitate for a second. “Mathias stayed behind to protect the pack. Find him. I‟m going to warn Sorin.” She ran to the ranger station, ignored the werewolf on duty and grabbed a set of keys to one of the ranger jeeps. Tires squealed as she peeled out of the parking lot and sped down the road heading straight to the Montana border. She dialed Sorin‟s cell but voicemail picked up right away. “Shit!” If their cell phones were off it meant they were either close to their destination, or already in combat.

She was glad she‟d snuck a peek at their mission plan and knew where the coven was. She made the hour long trip in forty minutes and parked behind the three identical jeeps on the side of a lonely dirt road. As soon as she jumped outside the vehicle, the scent hit her. Blood. Lots of blood. And Sorin.

*** They‟d been ambushed. Sorin had no idea how, but they were hugely outnumbered. The large, Victorian-style house sat isolated in the backwoods of a section of Montana that didn‟t even have a name. Well, he‟d name it now. We‟re-fucked-ville. It was ten fifteen in the morning – he knew because they‟d planned to sneak into the house and slaughter each vampire as they slept. But apparently they‟d been prepared. At least two dozen vampires crawled out of the house in full daylight. Someone had given them a potion to withstand the sun. Oh, joy. Tomas, the leader of the mission, barked instructions. They huddled together, surrounded on all sides but ready to fight as they protecting each other‟s backs. The vampires charged and Sorin fought with ferocity. The next twenty minutes were a blur of battle cries, tearing flesh, and splattering blood. The stench of death tainted the air. Vampires, like werewolves, could only be killed by beheading, which made for a messy fight. A fist hit him square in the jaw and his neck snapped to the side with an audible sound. He shook the dizziness away and faced his opponent. But a familiar scent hit the air and he froze. Harmony? No, she couldn’t be here. He must‟ve been hit harder than he thought. The scent hit him again, stronger than before. His gaze darted around the battlefield, which was nothing more than a blood-soaked front yard. Panic welled in his chest. Please, God, tell me I have a concussion. Then he saw her. She fought alongside his men, dodging and striking a male vampire that looked ready to tear her apart. What the fuck was she doing here? Anger consumed him. Heat flooded his veins and a growl tore from his throat. Without undressing he shifted to his half man, half wolf form, growing at least four inches taller. Hands turned into razor sharp claws, three inch long canines

ripped through his gums as his jaw double in size. Muscles bulged and thick fur covered his body. Crouched on all fours he spanned the distance between them in one leap, slicing through the vampire‟s neck before he even landed. He spun to face Harmony, his thoughts a mixture of rage and fear. Her eyes widened and she took a step back. He growled and glared to convey his displeasure. With a sharp nod, he gestured up the driveway. “Get your ass out of here,” he said with his eyes. God help her if she didn‟t obey him now.

*** Harmony stared at the towering beast before her. She‟d seen men in their warrior forms but never so close, and never so angry. Though she knew he wouldn‟t hurt her… He bared his teeth with a fierce snarl. She gulped. He wouldn‟t hurt her, right? His message was clear – get the fuck out of here. But they were still outnumbered. “I can help,” she insisted, shamed by her shaky voice. A vampire lunged from her left. Before she could react, Sorin jumped in the way and ripped its head off, blood spraying straight up into the air. An army of footsteps came from behind her and she spun around. Mathias sprinted down the dirt road with at least forty men behind him, several already shifting to their crinos form. She breathed a sigh of relief. Sorin grunted and jerked his head up the road again. Now that the numbers were even, she could give him peace of mind and go to safety. She nodded, turned tail, and jogged up the road, wishing she could‟ve explained why she was there. It was so like her, getting in trouble for trying to do the right thing. Maybe once he calmed down, he‟d listen to reason. As for promises of punishment, she wasn‟t sure if she feared them or looked forward to them. Just before turning the corner toward her jeep, a sharp force slashed across her back, tearing through her flesh. She screamed as burning agony consumed her. She fell forward and hit the ground hard, her teeth snapping together. Her last memory before the world slipped away was the sound of a murderous, vengeful howl.

Chapter 7 Fire spread across Harmony‟s back as she came to. She moaned, shifting to ease the pain, but movement only made it worse. Awareness hit and she remembered the searing agony of her flesh torn to ribbons on her back. But she wasn‟t in the battlefield any longer. Except for the sound of a steady heartbeat, it was silent around her. And she was lying face down on something soft. She opened her heavy eyelids. A blank wall stared back at her. She tried to lift up off the bed then hissed as the pain worsened. “Lie down and don‟t even think about trying to get up again.” Sorin came into view, human now, but with the same fiery eyes. He sat on a chair next to the bed and gently pushed her hair away from her face. “You little idiot.” She scowled the best she could with her face half smothered in a mattress. “I would punish you but I think you already did it to yourself.” It was too hard to see him so she pulled her arms up and rested her chin on them. Even that small movement sent waves of pain across her back. She closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath. “I hurt,” she whispered, her throat dry and achy. How long had she been out? “I bet. This is battle, love. You wanted it, remember?” There was no hint of mercy on his face. “Oh, fuck off.” He chuckled and stroked her hair, easing her anger. “Cranky one, aren‟t you?” She tried to lift her head to see where she was but Sorin raised two brows in challenge and gently pushed her back down. “Where am I?” “Safe. In a hotel room.” “Where‟s –” “It‟s just me. Everyone else went home.” She had so many questions. But first…“Sorin, I‟m sorry but I had to come. I –”

“I know all about it. Darla told Mathias, who told me.” He continued to stroke her hair lovingly. His eyes softened though his voice was still chastising. “But you shouldn‟t have come. It wasn‟t worth the risk. And I don‟t even want to know why you had a vampire‟s cell phone.” She tried to look at the damage behind her but could only see her legs tucked under the blanket. “How bad is it?” “You‟ll heal.” “I don‟t regret it.” “Then you‟re dumber than I thought.” She rolled her eyes. “You say the sweetest things.” He tugged her hair. “I‟ll say sweet things when I have you naked in my bed. But right now, I‟m still mad at you.” “I‟ll do it again.” It was a warning and one he needed to hear. It was time they set a few things straight. He sighed. “I know.” “I‟m not the kind of woman you want, Sorin. I won‟t lose my wolf to sit at home, barefoot and pregnant.” “Why don‟t you let me worry about the kind of woman I want.” “You don‟t want a woman, you want a pet.” He smiled and stroked her cheek. “Aw, now don‟t say that, pet.” She glowered at him. “I‟m serious.” “I‟m serious too.” He leaned down and kissed her head. “I want you just the way you are. My brave little idiot.” “We really have to work on your choice of nicknames.” He purred, “Puiule mea, frumos mea, draga mea, …my baby, my beautiful, my dear. If you‟re going to make me say it, I will. I love you. And if that means reevaluating my…oldfashioned ideas, then I will.” Ignoring his protest, she pushed to her side so she could face him fully and looked up at him. “You love me?” “I do.” He planted a swift, sweet kiss on her lips. “But Harmony, you should know there‟s not a romantic bone in my body. I don‟t compose poetry or sonnets. I‟ll always be rough

around the edges. But I‟m willing to learn how to love you. And even if it takes forever, I‟ll try my best to make you happy.” Her lips curled into a wide smile. She‟d never have guessed her fated mate would be a rigid, domineering beta with a fondness for bondage. But, as her mom always said, you can’t help who you fall in love with, only who you stay in love with. And Harmony would forever choose him. “I love you too.” His answering grin made her heart swell in her chest. “That‟s good because I‟m keeping you.” “Here we go with the pet references again,” she said, laughing. “Not my pet. My treasure.” She scrunched her nose. “My companion?” “No.” “My troublemaker.” She scowled. His eyes lit up. “My possession.” “Definitely not!” She reached up and stroked his face. “Your partner.” He leaned in and kissed her, running his tongue across her bottom lip then tugging it into his mouth. After a long, thorough claiming, he pulled away and cupped her cheek. “My everything.”

Epilogue Three months later

Shouts and cheers surrounded the training ring as the biggest, most bad-assed werewolf stepped in, growling and flexing for the crowd. On the edge of the circle, Harmony jumped from one foot to the other, stretching her arms over her head and rolling her shoulders. Darla and Monica‟s voice carried over the others. “Come on, Harmony! Show „em what you got!” The towering pile of muscle glared at her from across the ring. She had a lot riding on this tournament. This was her chance to prove her worth to the pack. And not just for her, but for all the women. She scanned the crowd nervously. God, there were a lot of people. Maybe this was a bad idea. A pair of heavy hands settled on her shoulders. Sorin looked down at her, a grim expression on his handsome face. When she thought he might have changed his mind about the fight, he bent down and kissed her, long and hard, until she felt it right down to her toes. When he lifted his head, he was grinning. “Give „em hell, baby.” He winked then pushed her into the ring. Love empowers.

Books by Leia Shaw Destiny Divided (Book 1 of Shadows of Destiny series) – available now! Destiny United (Book 2 of Shadows of Destiny series) – available now! Destiny Unchained (Book 3 of Shadows of Destiny series) – coming December 2011

Continue reading for samples of each

Destiny Unchained Coming December 2011

Chapter 1 Crouched on the ground Natalia crept silently through the leaves, her sharp gaze focused on her target. The black wolf blended into the shadows of the thick trees. She‟d tracked it by scent. The distinct odor of smoky pine invaded her nostrils. Gods I hate these creatures. As if it could read her mind the werewolf turned on her and snarled, its teeth gleaming in the darkness. The growl would‟ve sent the toughest human screaming through the forest. But nothing scared her. Especially not some barely out of the cave Cro-Magnon that sprouted fur and fangs once in a while. She tightened her muscles ready to spring at the beast. A husky male voice sounded from behind her. “Don‟t even think about it, vampire.” She stiffened but kept still, a vision of confidence. Three men stepped out of the trees, each with an arrow trained on her. Well, if it isn’t Robin Hood and his merry men. “Put your weapons on the ground,” the werewolf ordered. “Kick them toward me.” She made no move to obey. “Bow and arrow? How archaic.” “It‟s effective. Want a demonstration?” She gave no reply. “Didn‟t think so. Weapons. All of them. I know you have at least a dozen on you. You reek of metal and rust.” His lips curled in amusement. “Who do you think you are, The Terminator?” Two of the werewolves chuckled. The blonde on her right was eerily silent, but his gaze never left her face. A flash of gold on his coat caught her eye. A badge. Rangers? Werewolves worked at Yellowstone as rangers? The werewolf interrupted her thoughts. “Don‟t make the mistake of testing us, vampire. My patience is dwindling.” He said the word “vampire” with a sneer that would‟ve offended her if she‟d cared what anyone thought of her.

She reached down to her calf to grab the first knife, holstered under her fitted leather pants. The werewolf‟s voice stopped her. “Slowly,” he commanded. She nodded, showing full cooperation. When she had the knife in her grasp, the familiar feel of cold metal on her skin, she flung it at the werewolf to her left, lodging it deep into his throat. Natalia leapt into the air avoiding the first of the arrows released. Upon landing she lunged for the nearest archer reloading his bow. She kicked him in the chest, commandeering his arrow. With an easy toss it landed in the black wolf as it sprung toward her. A savage yelp echoed in the forest. She smiled inside. Her feet were swept out from under her and she landed on her ass but deftly jumped back up. She ducked under the first flying fist. A werewolf could usually beat her in an arm-wrestling match but they had nothing on her speed. Grabbing his arm when he swung at her again, she used his momentum to send him stumbling across the terrain. With him off balance, it was easy to snap his neck. His body slumped in a heap on the ground. She spun to face the last werewolf. An arrow sliced through the air a fraction of a second before she could react. Pain erupted in her chest. Burning agony overwhelmed her senses. It took some effort to maintain her usual calm. She looked down. Nothing more disturbing than seeing a pointy weapon lodged in your chest. Especially knowing it would hurt like a bitch when she pulled it out. She frowned at her assailant. “I really liked this shirt.” The silent blonde stood perfectly still, mimicking her earlier vision of confidence. Only it looked better on him. Finding a werewolf attractive? That was new. She lifted an arm to pull the arrow out, gritting her teeth at the expected explosion pain. Her limbs felt heavy. Her knees wobbled and her mind thickened with fog. Poison arrow. Shit. She collapsed on the ground, her captor‟s heavy boots her last vision before she faded.

Chapter 2 Natalia woke in a hazy stupor. She kept her eyes closed, waiting for the memories to surface. Ah, that’s right. Werewolf ambush. And she‟d walked right into it. Using her heightened sense, she assessed her environment. It was still night, of that she was thankful, since vampires were allergic to the sun. She inhaled the cool autumn air. Pine trees, fresh water, local game, werewolf. She wasn‟t far from where she‟d been ambushed. And she was bound. She opened her eyes. A campfire crackled several feet away. On the other side the blonde werewolf who‟d shot her sat on a log, using a rock to sharpen something. An arrow head. “Where are the rest of your merry men?” she asked. He kept his gaze fixed on his work. “Just me, for now.” “Lucky me.” She experimented with her binds. If the werewolf had any experience with vampires he would know there wasn‟t much that could hold them. She struggled with all her might to break through them, but to no avail. And she wasn‟t about to bruise her skin for a lost cause. So it wasn‟t ordinary rope. Most likely it had wolfsbane threaded through it, a common herb used to weaken vampires. He‟d probably purchased the damn thing from a witch. Always causing trouble they were, blessing some, cursing others. Natalia knew all about witch blessings. The mystery man had done a bang-up job with the knots as well. Her arms were twisted behind her, tied at each wrist then secured around the tree. Her legs were bound together at the ankles with the end of the rope resting beside the werewolf. So she was dealing with a professional. A pity. It would hold things up. “I don‟t suppose you can loosen these?” she asked drily. First step in any escape plan was to ask to be released. It almost always didn‟t work. He looked at her, his expression bemused. “Not until I know you won‟t be a problem.” “Define problem.” “In a word? You.” A werewolf with a sense of humor? That was new. “So, you‟re a bounty hunter?” she guessed. “Which unlucky bastard do you work for?” He picked up another arrow and began sharpening it.

“What‟s my bounty up to now?” Last she‟d heard it was ten thousand. Of course, that was a few decades ago. “A hundred grand.” “Not bad.” She was flattered. He stopped his task and studied her with narrowed eyes. “Why do they want you?” She couldn‟t tell if he was impressed, disgusted, or merely curious. “I kill werewolves,” she told him without hesitation. He didn‟t flinch, growl, or show any sign of anger. Strange. They were always angry about that. “And why do you do that?” he asked. “Because I like to.” It was true. But she told him so because she wanted to see his reaction. “And I‟ll kill you too.” His eyebrows darted up. “Interesting thing for someone in your position to say.” Her position. Feeling the ache in her shoulders she looked down at her binds. “A minor inconvenience.” A dark, husky chuckle came from across the fire. Did he just laugh at me? She‟d been sneered at plenty, but genuine laughter was a first. “So you‟re a vigilante?” he asked. Sort of. “Yes.” “How‟s that working out for you?” So he was curious about her too? Or maybe he was attempting to distract her from her escape. Silly doggie. Didn‟t he know she was a weapon of perfect focus? “Before now,” she answered, “beautifully.” Well, that may not have been the best word. Mostly it was bloody, nasty business – with no workman‟s comp – but surely he knew that. “What‟s your name?” She smirked then tuned the werewolf out, concentrating only on her environment. She studied every sound, identified every scent. From the tree roots jutting from the ground, to the closest body of water, to low hanging branches, and even the smallest rocks on the ground. When she broke free of the binds – and she would break free – she would use anything she could to escape. One never knew when a sharp rock may be the difference between life and death.

“Will you make me torture you for answers?” the werewolf asked after she‟d been silent for a few minutes. So it’s going to be like that. She sighed. “No. You‟ve most likely taken my wallet. I won‟t withhold information you already have.” She wanted to roll her eyes at the repetition of it all. Who are you? What are you doing here? Why did you kill my brother? Blah, blah, blah. “I was merely concentrating on my escape plan. My name is Natalie.” Well, according to her driver‟s license. Her captor rose gracefully from the log. If she had any doubt he was a werewolf before, she had none now. He was huge, as all werewolves were, at least six and a half feet tall with broad shoulders and thick muscles that made the standard ranger uniform a little snug. But it was his eyes that caught her attention. One was brown, the other baby blue. The effect was unnerving. She tried not to stare. “What are you doing in Yellowstone, vampire?” She arched a brow. “Feeling territorial?” “Answer the question.” “Do you really think it will be that easy?” “So you will make me torture you?” Her eyes narrowed into her best threatening glare. “Fair warning. I really don‟t like being tortured. It puts me in a foul mood.” “Let me guess.” His mouth curled up in mocking amusement. “Bad things happen when you‟re in a foul mood?” “Let me put it this way, the last time someone tried to torture me, I fed his balls to a pack of wild dogs.” The werewolf had deserved it. He hadn‟t been her intended revenge but he had sufficed until she could catch up with the man she really wanted to castrate. Her mate. “I‟ll keep that in mind,” was his only response to her gruesome threat. “So, Natalie, huh? A very nice American name.” He stood in front of her, his arms folded over his massive chest. “But you‟re not American, are you?” “Perceptive,” she said, “for a dog.” He shook his head slowly, disapproval written all over his face. “You‟ve got a lot of nerve. Here you are, tied up with my rope, in my territory, and you‟re mouthing off?” “Nerve, I have an abundance of. What I don‟t have is my weapons.”

“Nor will you get them. Did you forget you tried to kill me?” “You started it.” Impatience flared in his eyes. “You were about to take out that lone wolf!” The amused arrogance was gone when he took another step towards her. “How did you hear about the wolves‟ blood? Who sent you?” I guess fun time is over. “What wolves‟ blood? I have no idea what you‟re talking about. And that wasn‟t a lone wolf. It was a dangerous rogue werewolf. Can‟t you tell the difference?” “Answer the question.” “You answer the question.” Two blonde brows darted up. “Who has who tied up?” She looked at her binds. “Irrelevant.” He laughed. She stared at him. When his chuckles faded she asked, “What‟s the name of my temporary captor and soon to be dead man?” He hesitated only a moment. “Cristian.” She couldn‟t hold back a mocking smile. “Cristian? Cristian the werewolf? That‟s rich.” He smiled, his teeth white against his lush lips. “My mother was human, just like yours.” He paused to look in her wallet. “Natalie from Wisconsin.” He snorted. She shrugged. Well, as much as she could with her arms tied behind her back. “You don‟t look like a Natalie.” He stooped down so they were eye-to-eye. “You changed it, didn‟t you? To sound American.” Since it was none of his business, she ignored him. Using a knuckle he stroked her cheek. Her eyes widened. To her own surprise she didn‟t snap at him with her fangs. Why did she like the feel of his skin on hers? “What‟s your real name?” he asked in a buttery voice. She had to purse her lips to keep the answer from spilling out. What the hell was going on? It was almost as if he had some power over her. Must be the wolfsbane, she‟d been near it too long. “You‟re too beautiful to be Natalie. Won‟t you tell me your real name?” He smiled warmly and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

Her eyes widened at the strange encounter. Werewolves wanted her dead. All of them. They wanted to beat her, stab her, cut out her heart, burn her alive, etcetera, etcetera. She knew this because they‟d told her so. On more than one occasion. In fact, there was probably a blog somewhere out there on the web sphere dedicated to the ways she should die. But never, ever did they want to caress her. Was this some kind of trick? “Is it Natasha? Nathalee?” When she didn‟t respond, he guessed again. “No? What about Nata? Natalene?” She bit down on her tongue until she tasted blood. Her body yearned to answer him. This was no ordinary werewolf. Good news for the northwest pack, bad news for her. “Natalia?” Her face must‟ve given her away because he grinned. “Natalia then, isn‟t it?” She didn‟t bother to confirm it. “Natalia,” he said with a slow smile. “That‟s much better.” “You‟re not really a bounty hunter, are you?” “Never said I was.” He stood up and walked back to his spot on the log. She could barely see him through the haze of the fire. “Why didn‟t you use silver to subdue me?” If he had, she‟d have been free before she even opened her eyes. What most werewolves didn‟t know was that Natalia was the only vampire immune to the effects of silver. She‟d been locked in cages, hung from ceilings, handcuffed, and stabbed. But she‟d always escaped because the deadliest agent in the supernatural world had no effect on her. Actually, that‟s wasn‟t quite true. Silver hoops did look lovely dangling from her ears. “You‟re no ordinary vampire,” he said. “Or else so many wouldn‟t have failed.” “Maybe I‟m just a good fighter.” “No doubt. But I don‟t trust things I haven‟t made myself.” She looked at the bindings around her legs. “You make your own rope?” He nodded. “Tedious, isn‟t it?” He shrugged. “Some people knit. I make rope.” “I guess everybody needs a hobby.” “I think you can see it‟s more than just a hobby, Talia.”

A nickname? This was getting far too personal. “Talia? We‟re on a nickname basis now. Good to know, dog.” “Careful, Talia,” he warned. “I‟m a patient man but I‟ll only tolerate so much from a prisoner. Best tread lightly.” Actually, best tread on out of here. Time for the most important part of an escape plan. The actual escape. Her gaze rested on Cristian‟s pile of weapons. Using her gift she extended her senses, searching for the one thing she needed to escape. But there were no swords, no daggers, not even a switch blade. A bow and quiver of arrows rested against a tree. Next to that was a whip. She sighed. Of course she would get caught by the one man in North America who doesn‟t use metal weapons. “A whip?” she asked. Maybe she‟d pegged him for Robin Hood too early. “Also homemade.” “It‟s not a very useful weapon you know.” “You‟d be surprised. But, yes, mostly it‟s for intimidation.” She snorted. As if a werewolf could scare her. “I see you are immune. Which means you are either very old and experienced or very young and stupid.” A soft gaze landed on her, heating her more than the fire only a few feet away. “Which is it, Natalia?” He was using that seductive voice again. “How old are you?” Ignoring him, she put her feelers out again, searching for her own weapons. On average she had at least a dozen weapons on her at one time. All metal. It was her essence. She had the unique ability to manipulate it. That was what made her deadly. Well, that and combat skills that rivaled the Navy Seals. “Where are my weapons?” “At the bottom of the river.” “Bastard,” she hissed, letting her emotions get the best of her for a moment. Cristian grinned. She used all her power this time as she reached out around her. Usually metal was easy to find. It was everywhere. Clothing, shoes, hair clips, jewelry, wallets, phones, almost everything contained metal of some sort. Surprisingly, the area she was currently bound in was almost void of it. Almost.

Picking up the essence on Cristian‟s belt buckle she smiled inside. Normally, she wasn‟t one to gloat overly much. She preferred to just get the job done. But she couldn‟t deny a certain satisfaction in escaping Cristian‟s handmade bonds. She started with a little tug and his belt buckle began to change shape. The corner of her mouth twisted up into a smug smirk. With a big mental yank, the buckle pulled away from his pants and molded into a shiv. It took exactly three seconds to make it to slice through her bonds and free her arms. One rip with her claws and her legs were free too. Oh yeah, metal was her bitch. She shed the ropes and jumped up from the ground, facing her captor. He grabbed his whip while she put out a hand and her makeshift knife flew into it. “Wanna see why the bond is so high?” she asked, circling Cristian in a defensive crouch. “I can see how you‟ve managed to evade them for so long. But I wonder, how long would you last without your special…gift?” She‟d seen that trick before. He was trying to bait her for a fair fight. “Too bad we‟ll never know.” She threw the knife but he dodged it easily and it thunked into the tree behind him. With an arrogant smirk he flicked his wrist and the whip lashed menacingly towards her. He was playing. And that was his first mistake. Natalia always “missed” the first shot. A simple thought and the knife unloaded from the tree and stabbed into Cristian‟s back, cutting through muscle and lodging into his spine. She struck him in the stomach with the heel of her boot. When he lurched forward she grabbed his head and twisted. A snapped neck would put a werewolf out for just long enough to get a good head start. The only thing that would kill him would be to sever his head from his body. While he was unconscious, Natalia studied him. His scraggly blonde hair was just long enough to touch the tops of his shoulders. It matched the scruffiness of his unshaven face. He had a wild look about him that made her heart flutter. Her hand reached for her knife, but she stopped. With a long drawn out sigh, she slid it into her boot instead. Maybe it would be the biggest mistake of her life, but she didn‟t kill him. She‟d left him a clear message not to mess with her – one he would heed if he had any common sense. But she doubted very much that he did. She chuckled and brushed back a piece of hair from his face. “Cristian the werewolf.”

Destiny Divided Available now for all e-readers

Chapter 1 Sage emptied the contents of her backpack onto a desk in the basement of the school. Two phones, an MP3 player, and twenty bucks. “Not bad,” she said, dumping her looted treasures into a shoebox. She pulled out a wad of cash and counted it. “Fuck all,” she muttered. It still wasn‟t enough for an apartment even in the scummiest parts of town. She kicked the table in frustration. She‟d been stealing, working, and saving for two months, yet she wasn‟t even close. Maybe I could cut back on meals. She sighed. Would it really matter even if she had enough? She had no one to co-sign, no bank references. With her ripped up jeans, black tank tops, and combat boots, she‟d look sketchy to anyone who looked closely enough. If only the classes she‟d been sneaking into counted towards a degree. Hell, if class attendance was all it took, she‟d have a fucking PhD. I wonder how hard it is to forge a degree. She tucked the cash back into her jeans pocket then looked at the old metal filing cabinet that held her meager belongings. If you’d stop buying books then you’d save more, she scolded herself. Another sigh and she pulled on her faded gray button down janitor shirt. She hated arguing with herself. For once, she wished she had someone to argue with. Mostly she wished for Erin, her sister, though not by blood. “Sage?” Her boss‟s voice boomed from above. “Are you down there?” She shoved the shoebox in the cabinet and closed the metal doors, snapping the padlock in place. Her thighs burned as she sprinted up the basement stairs. “You‟re late again,” he said, disapproval thick in his husky voice. He wasn‟t angry. Tony may have looked like he belonged in the mafia, but on the inside, he was a mushy teddy bear. He‟d proven to be an ally Sage sorely needed. Once a week he would bring her home-cooked meals his wife had made. He must have known she was

struggling. She only hoped he didn‟t notice she was living in the basement of the building they cleaned every night. “Come on Tony, you need someone to keep you on your toes,” she said as she strolled by him. “Aren‟t you glad it‟s someone as charming as me?” She batted her eyes and gave her best angelic smile. He grimaced. Yes, well, admittedly there wasn‟t much angelic about her. Tony grumbled something about having to quit hiring based on his damned bleeding heart, but he stopped short when he met her gaze. His forehead creased and his eyes filled with concern. She frowned. Do I look that bad? “How are you doing today, tesora?” Tony called her “tesora”, an Italian term of endearment, when he felt bad for her. “Just peachy, Tony,” she answered in a perky tone. The acting class she‟d snuck into was paying off. Sage was many things – perky was not one of them. He furrowed his brow then opened his mouth. “Should I do the west side again?” she asked, cutting him off to shift topics. He sighed. “Sure.” Tony disappeared into the supply closet. The sound of metal grating against metal made her shudder. He pushed her cleaning cart into the hallway. The one with the squeaky wheel. If she never heard that sound again, she would die a happy woman. “Maybe if we‟re fast tonight you can get some sleep before your first class,” he said. “What did you say you were taking Friday mornings?” “Umm…British Literature,” she lied. Tomorrow she would be at the pawn shop. Maybe she‟d make it in time for Mythology in the afternoon. She liked that class. And the professor wasn‟t bad to look at. Her face must have paled because he looked concerned again. “Have you eaten tonight, Sage?” “Yes.” Another lie. He appraised her with a long glance. “All right. Tomorrow my wife is making chicken cacciatore. I‟ll bring you leftovers.”

“I‟ll be looking forward to it. I love your wife‟s cooking.” That was the truth. She was an amazing cook. But Sage wasn‟t picky either. “Tell Isobel I said thank you.” After Tony left for his side of campus, Sage stared at the mop, then the long empty hallway before her. She took a deep breath and held back a groan. No point complaining. It won’t make it any better.

*** James had just finished a lecture on modern depictions of mythological creatures at the small liberal arts college in Eastern Massachusetts when he paused and peered around the room. Forty blank expressions stared through him. Two students had actually fallen asleep. He sighed. Americans. James loved to teach, and he was grateful to have a job, but he wasn‟t fond of America. He missed his home country of Wales. The rocky shorelines, the rolling hills, the people. His people. He had been respected in Wales. But now he was the subject of silly female crushes that whispered about his “sexalicious” accent. Most people assumed he was British. At least they were close, Wales and England were neighbors. But on more than one occasion, a student had approached him and asked, “Uh, dude, are you from Russia?” He dismissed the class before he fed into the urge to rile them in a way that would ensure they never slept in his class again. Yes, he could give them nightmares for life. A commotion in the hallway distracted him from his violent thoughts. “Ms. Peterson, you will remain here while I call the police.” The Dean‟s voice echoed outside James‟ classroom. Curious, he went to investigate. The hallway was mostly empty. The two security guards standing stiffly with their hands on their hips must have discouraged nosy bystanders from lingering. “Martin, Julio,” the Dean said to the guards, “make sure she doesn‟t leave. I‟ll be back with my phone in a minute.” The subject of the ruckus was a slender brunette with striking jade colored eyes and a mutinous look on her face. She brandished a mop like a weapon, which explained the presence of the security guards. But she looked more like a scared kitten than a dangerous threat. “Put the mop down, Kill Bill,” the overweight guard ordered.

She sucked in a sharp breath and gripped the mop tighter. The Hispanic guard laughed and the lights flickered. They looked up at the long florescent bulbs and Martin shrugged. “Must be a storm coming.” The girl‟s expression didn‟t change. Her eyes were narrowed slits, focused only on the guards. Their attention shifted back to her. “Come on,” Martin said. “Put the fucking mop down. Don‟t make us Taser you.” James knew for a fact they didn‟t have Tasers. A soft feminine growl erupted before the florescent light behind the guards burst. They skirted out of the way as the glass rained onto the floor. “What the hell is going on?” Julio asked. “Eh, weird shit always happens in this school,” Martin answered. James took a step forward and it hit him like a freight train. Magic, powerful and raw rolled off the young woman. She was a supernatural. He could feel it in his bones. “I‟ve got the police on the phone now,” the Dean bellowed from the end of the hallway. “Professor Elias, what are you doing here?” “Just leaving for the night,” he answered the Dean. “But since I‟m here, is there anything I can do?” “No, no.” He waved a dismissive hand, the other still holding the phone to his ear. “I‟m on hold but the police should be arriving soon.” “The police?” James questioned. “What has the girl done wrong to warrant an arrest?” James used all the influencing ability he had to get an answer from the Dean. “She‟s a janitor but we found her living in the school basement. There‟s been a string of thefts we think she might be involved in. And she‟s been sitting in on classes without being registered.” Ah, so that’s where I’ve seen her. Yes, if he remembered correctly she was the only one who paid attention during the deities lecture in Mythology. “Nothing for you to worry about James,” the Dean said with a smile. “The police will take care of it.” The police? The girl could barely control herself with the threat of the security guards, involving the police would turn into a disaster.

He sighed. I have a feeling I’m going to regret this. He stepped forward. “Actually, the girl –” He stopped himself then glanced at the name on her work badge. “Sage and I have a prior arrangement.” The Dean looked skeptical. “You do?” Sage looked appalled. “We do?” He gave her a conspirator‟s glare but kept his voice cool. “I ask you for leniency, sir. She‟s only slept here a few nights while my other tenant moved out. You see, Sage and I just signed a contract. She will be renting a room from me.” Sage gasped. “Like hell I –” “Hush,” he snapped with a sharp look. His tone commanded obedience and she obliged. By the look on her face it was a loathing obedience. He smiled at the Dean. “Would you excuse us for a moment?” Dean Merrit looked confused. “The police –” “She‟s not going anywhere. I promise.” He gave the Dean a winning smile that always worked to soothe humans. He strode toward Sage, assessing her body language. She was confused, angry, willing to fight if pushed. A quick yank and the mop was out of her hands. “Come with me,” he ordered. She looked at the Dean, still on the phone with the police, then at the guards blocking the only exit. With a loud exhale she nodded. Smart girl. He led her down the hallway, far enough out of hearing range but close enough not to worry the Dean. “Who the hell are you?” she hissed, a hand perched on her hip. This should be interesting. “Do you want to get arrested?” “Why –” “It‟s a simple yes or no question. Do you want to get arrested?” Her lips tightened into a thin line and the lights flickered. “Fuck you.” He stepped towards her, she stepped back. He grinned. For all her bravado she was as insecure as a small child. “I know what you are,” he whispered in her ear. “Come home with me and we‟ll talk.” Her eyes grew wide for a fraction of a second before she schooled her features. A guarded scowl aged her. She studied him, appraising him like a gazelle would a lion. “It‟s either that or spend the night in county.”

“What‟s the catch?” Typical American. Always expecting to get screwed over. “Here are my terms. You come home with me tonight, answer my questions, get a good night‟s sleep in my guest room…” He paused to let it sink in. “And I‟ll get you out of this mess. I‟ll even buy you breakfast in the morning.” She gave him a sideways glance. “What kind of questions?” “You‟ll just have to wait and see.” Her gaze was harsh as it raked him over. “We don‟t have time to agree on every detail, Sage. You‟ll just have to trust me.” A small smirk formed on the edge of her lips. It was such a contrast to the cynical glares that it unnerved him. Was she scheming? “Fine,” she answered flippantly. “But I want coffee with my breakfast.” He had to bite back a laugh. Cornered and desperate yet she still makes demands? “Done.” “Strong coffee.” He smiled. “Is there any other kind?” She stuck out a hand. “Sage Peterson.” He shook it. “James Elias.”

Chapter 2 “Welcome home,” James said as they pulled into the driveway of a quaint blue house several miles from campus. Sage couldn‟t tell if he was being sarcastic but she shot him a cutting glare. He looked young, for a professor. His chiseled features and regal confidence reminded her of European nobility. Strawberry blonde hair was cut short and styled in perfectly random spikes, as if he were about to shoot a hair gel commercial. She drank in his deceptively charming appearance. Deceptive, because at first glance he looked like a wealthy gentleman, but what women didn‟t see was the lethal potential simmering just below the surface of the calm exterior. The professor had stayed true to his word and talked the Dean into dropping all charges. She had repressed a snarl when James promised to “take full responsibility of her.” She had lost her job and was banned from campus. But the only thing she‟d felt guilty about was lying to Tony. He had looked heart-broken when she‟d packed her meager belongings and gave him a quick hug. As a product of the foster care system, she was used to saying goodbye. James opened the car door and carried her bag toward the house. At least he’s not a complete ass. “What do you have in this bag?” he asked. “Rocks?” Nope, still an ass. “None of your business,” she snapped, attempting to grab it back but he put an arm out to stop her. Once inside, he flipped on the lights to reveal a kitchen that opened to a living room with wide windows on three sides. It was an attractive home, very clean. Too clean. She cringed. A neat freak. Of course, did she expect any different from the uptight, perfectly groomed professor? She assumed he was a bachelor. It didn‟t seem likely a woman would take too kindly to her husband bringing home a twenty-five year old girl like a lost puppy. James walked her through the kitchen and down a hallway. He pointed out a bathroom then flung open a door across the hall.

“You can sleep here.” He dropped her bag inside. A multi-colored quilt that looked like a grandmother had stitched it lay across the full size bed. A desk with a reading lamp and office chair filled the other corner of the cozy room. She looked longingly at the bed. It did look comfortable. Tempting as it was, she couldn‟t stay. “Can I get a few minutes before you interrogate me?” “Sure.” She waited for him to leave. He only widened his stance in the doorway and crossed his arms over his chest. “Privacy?” she hinted. “My wallet?” Busted. Maybe he was smarter than she gave him credit for. She sighed then pulled it out of her back pocket and handed it to him. He opened it then arched a brow. “There was twenty dollars in here.” With another sigh she took the twenty out of her other pocket, and slapped it into his palm. He grabbed her hand pulling her into his body and whispered in her ear, “I don‟t know your background but I understand your desperation. I will tolerate many things but stealing is not one of them.” She yanked her hand away, stumbling back a few steps. “Fuck off. You can‟t talk to –” “I‟ll be waiting in the living room. You have five minutes.” He slammed the door before she could utter another word. “Bastard,” she hissed at the closed door. But she would get the last laugh. He can’t really think I’ll just go along with this. She had a feeling he was serious about that five minute time limit so she didn‟t waste any time. Glad to see a window big enough for her to fit through, she took extra care to open it quietly then popped the screen out. She squeezed her body through, thankful the bedroom was on the first floor. She grabbed her backpack from the ledge and slung it onto her back. It was a moonless night and she struggled to orient herself in the darkness. She took several steps before bumping into a hard wall of muscle. “I should have known you‟d be trouble,” the familiar voice said.

She groaned. How could she not have seen him, his pale skin glowed in the black night. She turned to run but a hand shackled her wrist and he dragged her through the dark at a pace that made her depend on him to remain upright. She tried to stay calm. “Let me go, James. You can‟t force me to stay here.” “Wanna bet?” was his smooth answer. She panicked. He sounded utterly confident. And he was strong – she could feel it in his grip around her wrist. He could easily overpower her. A bright blue light burst into her free hand. The magic flowed through her, barely contained, fighting for release. She knew what would happen if she let it go. It had a life of its own. James swung around to face her. “Cut that out.” He squeezed her wrist until her bones threatened to snap. “Ow!” Her light flickered then disappeared, the heavy weight of power disappearing with it. “Control yourself,” he snapped. Ha! As it if were that easy. Still, he didn‟t seem fearful of her power, which put her on edge. What other weapon did she have against him? “Look. Bad things happen when I get angry, okay? As of right now, I don‟t want to hurt you. Keep dragging me around and I‟ll change my mind.” With the small amount of light coming from the flood light up ahead she could see his lips twitch in amusement. “Hurt me?” Oh yes, arrogant one. You have no idea what you are unleashing. “I may be small but I‟ve hurt bigger men than you.” “You and I need to have a talk.” He continued his hurried pace, crossing the driveway, dragging her along behind him. Inside the house he grabbed a wooden chair, set it in the middle of the living room then ordered her to sit. She remained standing. Out of habit she searched the room for exits and weapons. “I can see you‟re thinking about running again,” he said calmly. “Do you think I won‟t catch you?”

If there was one thing Sage knew, it was body language. His voice may have been calm, but his body was not. He stood several feet in front of her, sturdy like a tree, blocking her only exit. Had he always been that tall? “We need to talk,” he told her. “I have nothing to say to you.” He sighed. “Must we do this the hard way then?” The hard way? She didn‟t like the sound of that. Really, Sage, since when have you been scared of anyone? She wasn‟t scared, she told herself. Just unsettled. “This is your last warning,” she said with an extra bite in her tone. “I really don‟t like being backed into a corner.” He smiled and took a step towards her. “I know. You‟re like a scared little kitten, claws out ready to fight the world.” His voice warmed, his pale blue eyes softened as he looked deep into hers. “Sheath your claws, anwylyd. No one is going to hurt you.” She almost believed him. Then reality hit. Adrenaline burst in her chest, burning through her veins. A ball of neon light formed between her hands. She tried to control it but it was intense, the pressure built, the power yearned for release. “Impressive,” he said. “Now what?” She narrowed her eyes and took a deep breath. Please don’t miss. Please don’t miss. Squaring her shoulders she took aim then released the ball of light, thrusting it towards him. As soon as the energy left her fingertips she ducked and covered her head. The light soared across the room, missing her target, then ricocheted off a metal cabinet and blew up the wooden chair between them. A couple pieces of the chair bounced off of James but he barely seemed to notice. Sage slowly stood, studying his reaction. He looked surprised at first then his eyes darkened. “You‟re going to pay for that,” he said. In answer she reached into her pocket, took out the wad of cash – her only cash – and flung it at his chest. It bounced against it then plopped to the floor. He didn‟t pick up. “There‟s your payment. Now let me go.” He shook his head. “I‟m afraid I can‟t do that Sage.” He stepped towards her. The blue light congregated in her palms again but it was weaker. Her energy was fading. “I‟ll do it again,” she warned.

He shrugged and took another step. Seeing no other option, she launched another lightening ball. This time it flew straight toward him. But he put up a hand and the light sizzled then disappeared. He stepped closer. Panicked, she launched another, but he flicked that one away too. Her eyes widened. What the hell? She tried to pull up more light but her hands only sparked. He took another step, putting himself just a few feet away. She tried again but exhaustion washed over her. “Damn it!” She shook her hands as if it would spring the power back to life. Sucky time to run out of juice! The professor sneered. “Fickle, your powers, aren‟t they?” She couldn‟t deny they were spiraling out of control. And she‟d be lying if she said it didn‟t scare her. But there wasn‟t anything she could do about it. She didn‟t even know where her powers came from. Erin was only person who‟d known about the mysterious things that happened when she was angry or scared. And she‟d been taken from her sister long ago. He pulled another chair into the center of the room. “Sit in the chair, Sage.” Her fists clenched, her nails dug into her palms. She never did do well with orders. She blinked and he was inches in front of her. His scent hit her like a tidal wave, wrapping a cocoon of comfort around her. Crisp fall days, aftershave, and desire. It was the kind of smell she would have liked to curl up in on a cold day. What has come over me? She lifted her head and stared into his tranquil eyes. He wrapped a hand around her upper arm and set her down on the chair. She tensed to flee when he released her arm, but before she could move his hand clamped around her throat. There was something wrong with her that her first thought was how warm it felt against her skin. Was she that starved for human contact? Though gentle, the grip on her neck was still a threat. “Don‟t move.” She heeded his sharp command. A strange stream of light snaked from his index finger and wrapped around her body pinning her arms to her side. The light made a sort of magical rope that tied her to the chair. No matter how much she struggled, she couldn‟t get free. “There.” He shook the light free from his finger. “That‟s better.” He sat down on the couch opposite her. “As I was saying…we need to talk about your powers.”

She was at his mercy. Always a survivor she surrendered, hoping he would let her go if she played nice. Or at least buy her some time to form a new plan. “Okay. Yes. I have certain…abilities. But I don‟t know how they work or where they come from.” He furrowed his brow. “Do you really not know what you are?” “Do you?” “Of course,” he scoffed. “You‟re a sorceress.” A flood of emotion overwhelmed her. A sorceress. She didn‟t know much about it, but at least it was a name. Something that explained what had been happening to her, and around her, for as long as she could remember. She had first recognized her power at the age of five when a blender her foster mother used to make a seaweed breakfast smoothie had exploded. Sage had wanted Lucky Charms. She‟d won that battle. She had long since believed that anything was possible. Growing up she‟d been called a witch because of the unexplained events that happened around her. She‟d been tossed out of foster homes over and over because she was “bad”. In high school, students, and even teachers, had whispered rumors of witchcraft behind her back. When she went searching for answers she came up blank. Nothing described the types of things she could do. Sorcery was not a stretch from witchcraft. But more importantly, there were more of her out there. “A sorceress,” she said out loud. I could get used to the sound of that. “Yes. A very powerful one.” James glared at her with contempt, knocking the wind out of her newly flown sails. “But I can tell you‟re untrained. Most of us have been guided by teachers and mentors since we were very young. We‟ve had years to learn how to control our powers. It‟s a good thing your aim is shit because the first Bolt you sent could have killed me.” A Bolt? At his unbending glare she yelled, “Well nobody taught me!” “Obviously. Who are your parents?” “I don‟t know,” she admitted, a hint of sorrow in her voice. He folded his arms over his chest. “Why should I believe you? You‟re a liar and a thief.” An accurate assessment. The corner of her mouth curled up. “And I cheat at cards too.”

He exhaled a laugh but it was humorless. “Look at you.” His gaze raked her body. “You‟re nothing but a volatile, foul-mouthed, little smartass. Nothing like a sorceress should be. I‟m surprised you‟ve managed to stay alive all these years.” Only because of the light. She had a couple of close calls though. “What are your parents‟ names?” “I told you I don‟t know.” The rope tightened across her chest, crushing her until she could barely breathe. She panicked. A flash of lightning lit up sky outside. A gust of wind rattled the windows. James looked from her face to the windows and back again. His brow creased. Why did he look surprised? Didn‟t all sorcerers affect the weather? “It‟s really quite simple, Sage,” he said in clipped tones. “Answer the questions and we won‟t have a problem.” “I already told you I don‟t know who my parents are! I‟m not lying. My mother left me at the hospital to be adopted right when I was born. I had a name and that was it.” She dropped her head, feeling helpless and broken. She would have cried if she hadn‟t banned it years ago. This was the most vulnerable she had felt in a long time. God, I hate it. He blinked and stepped back. “I‟m sorry.” Regret tinted his voice. “I can see now that you‟re not lying.” She sent him a glare that told him exactly where he could shove his apology. “If I let you loose, do you promise not to run away?” She nodded, not that she had a choice. This man, that she now guessed was a sorcerer, was clearly more powerful than she. “All right. I‟m going to remove the rope. Do not move from that chair.” He pointed a finger at her and she rolled her eyes. “If you try to run, I will catch you. Do you understand?” It really couldn‟t get any more humiliating. “Yes.” The lighted rope faded away and she stretched out her arms. If it had been a normal person guarding her, she‟d have either run or fought. But since the arrogant spawn of Satan stood by her instead, she sucked up her pride and, for the first time in a long time, she allowed someone to tell her what to do. “I‟m not a child.” For some reason she needed to make that clear. His gaze landed on her breasts. And stayed there. Usually she liked the attention her low cut shirts and well-endowed chest got her, but now she felt naked under his heated gaze. “I can

see that. Here‟s the thing Sage. There are rules for our kind. You can‟t go around using magic anytime you please. That‟s not how it works and it‟s going to get you in a lot of trouble. You‟re lucky it hasn‟t caught up with you so far.” “I‟ve never known anyone else like me. How am I supposed to know all the rules for your magical wizard world? I can barely follow people rules in my own world.” “I know. And that‟s why I‟ve decided to train you.” He said it with so much resolution Sage thought he was joking at first. “Excuse me?” She arched a brow. “What makes you think I want to be trained? And by you, no less?” “I don‟t really see how you have a choice.” “Umm…yes, I do. It‟s called „no‟. No, I will not be trained by you. I‟m not a dog.” “How will you know what the rules are for our kind?” “I don‟t know. Don‟t you have a book or something?” “What happens when your powers get out of your control? You need someone watching your back.” She snorted. “Yes, that‟s just what I want. You watching my back. Did you forget the part where you almost suffocated me with a magical rope?” He took a deep breath. “What if I told you that I could make you more powerful?” This piqued her interest. Momentarily. “You could be ten times stronger, Sage. With some guidance and practice –” “No thanks,” she snapped. “I‟ll figure it out on my own.” He didn‟t seem shocked by her refusal, which made her uneasy. She shifted in the chair. “When‟s the last time you ate?” he asked. “Lunch.” “And before that?” Her gaze dropped to the floor. “Stay here with me, Sage. I‟ll give you a warm place to sleep and regular meals. All you have to do is allow me to teach you how to use your powers responsibly.” She‟d grown up with the old adage, if something sounded too good to be true, it usually was. “What‟s your angle? If you think I‟ll sleep with you, you can forget it. I‟d rather starve.” “No angle. Just a sense of obligation. You‟re dangerous and need to be controlled before you hurt somebody. I don‟t want that on my conscience.”

“Controlled? Who the hell do you think –” “Don‟t be stubborn,” he snapped. “You look like you‟re half-starved.” She grimaced. Standing at an average 5‟7”, she wasn‟t scrawny but had – or used to have – ample curves in the right places. It was the only thing about herself that she liked, since she didn‟t consider herself particularly pretty. “Don‟t let your pride get in the way of taking something good that‟s offered. There‟s no better opportunity for you than this. And I promise, when I‟m done with you, you‟ll never have to mop floors again.” She gave him a wary glance. “I don‟t trust you.” “Nor I you. But what do you have to lose?” She stared down at her hands. “Fuck if I know.” Am I really considering this? Life had taught Sage to be adaptable and resourceful. This proved to be another situation where she needed to access those skills to survive. Or maybe she wouldn‟t just survive this time. Maybe she would thrive. Even though this sorcerer bugged the hell out of her, he appeared to be ready to feed her and teach her. If she learned more about her abilities – how to harness them and control them – then she could finally have a normal life. “All right,” she conceded. “But just so you know, I sleep with one eye open.” He smiled. “What makes you think you‟re my type?” And now he insults me? Bastard! His icy eyes melted to warmth as he held out a hand. She stared at it. “I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I want you to know you can trust me.” She had to stop herself from bursting out loud laughing. Trust? In one day? That was not something she could afford. Especially not with a demanding male who was clearly used to being in control. Well, she had control issues too. And when it came to a battle of wills, she always won. She bypassed his outstretched and grabbed her bag off the floor. “Goodnight James.” She stalked to her new room and shut the door. Something slid underneath it while she unpacked her things. A wad of cash. She counted it. He hadn‟t taken a single dollar to pay for the broken chair.

Destiny United Available now for all e-readers

Chapter 1 Marcelo elbowed his way through the crowded bar, growing more irritated with each step. Music assaulted his ears, vibrating painfully through his skull. He choked on the thick scent of tobacco, alcohol, and sex. Not good sex, but cheap, dirty sex. At least there were plenty of shadows for a vampire to fade into. While walking to the counter he‟d been bumped twice by drunk adolescents. One particularly rowdy juvenile spilled his drink on Marcelo‟s boots. He loved these boots. His queen owed him for this “small favor.” The next drunk frat boy that got within a foot of Marcelo would be growled at, fiercely. One bold woman offered to buy him a drink. Interesting, he mused. It didn‟t happen often, although he‟d been told he was terrifyingly handsome. But Marcelo wasn‟t there to drink or pick up women. Actually, that wasn‟t quite true. He was there to pick up one very specific woman. He turned on his phone and studied the picture his queen had sent of her sister one more time, although he‟d already committed it to memory. Erin Bolton. His hunt had landed him at a small liberal arts college in Albany, NY. He chuckled remembering the look on the students‟ faces when he‟d demanded to know Erin‟s whereabouts. Sometimes it was good to be a vampire. Hunting the girl had been the easy part. The next step would require a certain amount of finesse this battle-scarred vampire did not possess. He had to convince Erin to trust him, and then escort her to the Underworld. He stared out into the sea of faces. At the other end of the packed room, a woman jumped onto a table and yelled, “Let‟s get some karaoke going!” Cheers erupted around her as she waved her hands in the air. Marcelo shook his head in disapproval. Date rape bait.

His mind drifted to the conversation he‟d had with Sage, the Queen of the Underworld. “Five days,” she had said, “and I’ll meet you by the portal in Wales.” This was only day two. “Oh, and Marcelo, be gentle with her. She’s timid.” Then what the hell was she doing in a bar like this? With an aggravated sigh, he scanned the crowd for her again. More noise came from the table where the same girl was singing about putting a dime in a jukebox and loving rock and roll. He rolled his eyes. He remembered when music used to be good. His gaze made its way up the girl‟s body. Might as well get a good look since she insists on displaying herself. She wore brown leather cowboy boots, her slender calves changing to shapely thighs. Her short denim shorts were ripped up on the bottom and cut off at the perfect spot just below where the thigh met the buttocks. Her shirt was an almost see-through white billowy blouse covered with a brown leather vest. On top of her head was a matching brown cowboy hat. This girl, whoever she was, had sexy down to a science. No wonder the men were drooling over her. Honey colored hair flowed down her back in loose curls as she shook all the right parts at all the right times. Her hair wisped wildly around her sweaty face. She threw her cowboy hat to a tall boy cheering loudly in the back then spun around giving Marcelo a full view of her face. Big brown eyes looked out into the crowd – eyes that looked oddly familiar. Bloody hell! Marcelo flipped to the photo on his phone again. He held up his phone next to the girl dancing provocatively on the bar table. It was the same girl though the phone displayed a much more innocent version with a bright smile. The sister he‟d been sent to retrieve was drunk and dancing half naked on a table. And Sage had called her timid? He took several determined steps forward, hurrying to finish this inconvenient side trip. Before he made it half way through the crowd, one distinctive word echoed above the noise around him. “Fight!” Oh shit. A glass bottle broke then the crowd turned vicious. Alcohol did that to hormonal adolescents, which was why he hated it – alcohol and adolescents. Of course anyone who dared bump into Marcelo was thrown aside, but he feared for the girl. He‟d made a promise to Sage to protect her sister, a job he took seriously. When he looked

up at Erin, still on the table, it was just in time to see a beer bottle launched straight into her head. Shock filled her eyes as she staggered backwards. Marcelo shoved his way towards the table. He caught her when she tumbled off the ledge then cradled her against his chest. Up close, the girl was smaller than he‟d thought. She weighed close to nothing. He strode towards the exit with Erin hanging limply in his arms. The crowd parted once he slapped on his “get-the-fuck-out-of-my-way face”. He‟d expected someone to fight him, or at least question him. He was a dangerous looking man carrying away a beautiful woman. But no one approached him. Was this woman here alone? Dressed like bait? Drunk with no one to watch over her? He was irritated before but now he was downright fuming. He‟d never been so glad to step out into the warm summer air. It wasn‟t exactly fresh air, but it was enough to soothe his anger. The last thing he needed was for the human to wake up and see fangs poking out from under his lips. After he checked over both shoulders to be sure he wasn‟t followed, he turned down an empty alley. In Marcelo‟s world you didn‟t stay alive for long without being paranoid. Closing his eyes he concentrated on his intended location, a hotel room he‟d reserved several blocks from where they stood. Nothing happened. Puzzled, he tried again. Still nothing. He stood in the piss and garbage filled alley, holding the unconscious girl in his arms, confused and growing angrier by the second. He‟d never been unable to traverse before. So far Marcelo was the only vampire he knew that could traverse – or teleport, as his queen called it – to any place he‟d previously been. This ability was the only reason he‟d agreed to perform this “small favor” in the first place. Traveling the mortal way held no appeal, especially toting a very breakable, easily killable, drunk-on-her-ass human. After trying three more times, he gave up with an exhausted sigh. Yes, he and his queen would be having a talk soon. He carried Erin the four blocks to the hotel, receiving plenty of odd stares, but still no one questioned him. When he reached the generic hotel room he gently laid the girl on the bed. Scrubbing a hand over his unshaven face he stared at the body stretched out before him. Now what? Should he undress her to make her more comfortable for bed? Someone ought to smack him for that thought. If she woke up in a hotel room next to a stranger with nothing on but

a bra and panties, she would surely have a fit. As it was, he expected some sort of panic when she awoke. Hopefully she had more sense than her sister and wouldn‟t try anything foolish like attempting to fight him. He brushed her hair away from her face to inspect the wound at her temple. He‟d need to get ice when she awoke, but it didn‟t look like a serious injury. Most likely she was passed out more from being drunk than from being hit. He combed his fingers through her hair; it was silky like Natalia‟s. The small reminder made his heart heavy. How he missed her. But the similarities stopped there. Natalia had pale porcelain skin. Erin‟s was a shade darker, almost matching her honey colored hair. She had unimaginably long thick lashes that spread delicately over her skin. As he looked her over, he realized everything about her was delicate. She was so fragile. So human. So mortal. Yet she‟d ventured out, barely dressed, to a rowdy bar with no one to look after her? So foolish! He growled with an odd sense of protectiveness. It wasn‟t his place but he wasn‟t sure he could stop himself from giving her a stern lecture about her disregard for safety once she awoke. Her fingers were long and thin, but he could see the tips of her fingernails were chewed off. A nail biter. Nasty habit. His gaze moved down her body and rested on her boots. Might as well take them off. Two reasons. One, it might be more comfortable for her to sleep. But more importantly, it would keep her from running. He tossed the boots under the bed. How long would she remain unconscious? He wanted to feed but wouldn‟t risk leaving her alone. He suppressed the urge to shake her awake, command her to stay put, then go in search of a woman to feed from. But Marcelo knew from experience, human women did not like being ordered around by men. His queen had taught him that when she had tried to kill him only a few months ago. And all because he‟d forced her to drink blood and steal the throne from her twisted father. Women were so temperamental. With that in mind, Marcelo settled himself onto the bed and plotted the next place he would resume his hunt for Natalia. Two hours later, the body next to his began to stir. A soft moan broke free from her lips. When her eyelids fluttered open, he sat up straight and said, “Be careful. You were hit hard. I‟ll get some ice as soon as –” Her eyes were pools of terror. “Be calm, female. I mean you no harm.” He put his hands up in a non-threatening gesture.

Before he could reassure her with an explanation about Sage, she flew off the bed and bolted into the bathroom, where she slammed and locked the door. She didn‟t ask questions, didn‟t threaten him, she didn‟t even scream. He was glad he‟d grabbed her boots. She was a runner. Marcelo walked to the bathroom door, chuckling a bit about the lock. A steel door couldn‟t stop him from getting through it. Not unless it was silver. Still, the last thing he wanted to do was scare her further. He knocked. “Come out of there. We need to talk.” He waited for a response. Nothing. Feeling a flicker of frustration he barely stopped himself from twisting the doorknob and barging in. Patience, Marcelo. She needed reassurance, not a brute showing of strength. “Your sister, Sage, sent me to see you to safety.” Still no response. “Please, open the door. I will not hurt you.” He could hear her heart racing with fear. But there was a chance she could have a concussion. Rather than waiting until it was too late, he took a deep breath and twisted the doorknob, breaking through the lock. If she was scared and mad, so be it. Safety came first. As soon as he stepped a foot through the bathroom door, a glass vase whizzed towards his head. He barely dodged it before it thudded onto the carpeted bedroom floor. For fuck’s sake. Timid my ass! Erin stood in the corner, a bottle of sample shampoo clenched in her fist. He gave her his sternest expression. “Don‟t do that again.” She dropped the bottle and started gasping, dragging air into her lungs as if it were suddenly difficult. Her body slumped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Mierda! She was hyperventilating. He rushed to her side, kneeling on the bathroom floor. She flinched away from him. “What‟s the matter?” he demanded. Her wide eyes darted around the room as if she were searching for invisible threats. No, not looking for threats. Marcelo was the threat. She was looking for an escape. With a deep breath he softened his voice and tried to tone down the feral look in his eyes. “I‟m sorry I scared you. But I am not going to hurt you. You can trust me.” The shallow breathing continued. She looked like she was going to faint any second. At least she’d be easier to deal with. He mentally kicked himself. That’s just not right.

“Will you not speak to me?” he asked the girl. She didn‟t respond. “Do you need medical care? Should I take you to the hospital?” She shook her head so hard he thought he heard it pop. “Then calm down so we can talk.” When she continued to gulp air, he added, “Female, I will have no choice but to take you to the hospital if you do not calm down.” A tear slid down one cheek as she covered her mouth with trembling hands. “Aw, hell. Don‟t cry.” “Go…away,” she said between gasping breaths. “Or…my boyfriend…will…kill you.” He repressed the urge to laugh out loud at the ridiculous threat. Instead he pressed his lips into a grim line. “I‟m sorry, I can‟t go away. Sage sent me to protect you. I‟ll bring you to her as soon as possible but we need to get a few things straightened out first.” Her breathing quickened, growing louder and more labored with each one. Seeing no other alternative, he dialed Sage‟s number then thrust the phone into Erin‟s shaking hands. “Do you have her? Is she safe?” Sage‟s voice rang clear on the other end. She must have heard the heavy breathing because she said, “Erin? Is that you?” Erin inhaled sharply. “Yes...” Another gasp then she tried to form a sentence. “Who…who…what…” “Fuck! I should‟ve known this wouldn‟t go well. Look, just calm down. I know Marcelo isn‟t Mr. Personality but he won‟t hurt you.” Erin continued to breathe raggedly into the receiver. “Slow down, Dot. Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth. Marcelo will take care of you. I promise. You can trust him with your very life. Just calm down.” “I‟m…trying…” “Hey, remember when I punched that kid Joey in the face cause he called you a freak? The principle was going to expel me but you convinced him my fist had Tourettes.” Erin choked on a laugh but the distraction seemed to calm her enough to listen to reason. Though Marcelo could hear Sage as clearly as if she were in the room, he kept his concentration on Erin‟s eyes. They narrowed, taking him in with skepticism as Sage described his appearance. So mistrustful. He supposed it was only fair. If she‟d had a life similar to Sage‟s, then she had every right to be mistrustful. Once Sage had confirmed who he was, relief washed over her features. Marcelo smiled when her heart rate slowed to a steady pace. He hadn‟t realized he‟d been holding his own breath until he finally exhaled.

“I‟ll see you soon,” Sage said. “Miss you, Dot.” “I…miss you too.” She shut the phone then looked up at him with those big brown eyes. No, not brown. Amber, with flecks of orange and black. Captivating. “Will you speak to me now?” She shook her head. “Just one little word?” he coaxed with a half-smile. She stared at her hands for a long moment, then inhaled deeply and squeaked a meek, “Hi.” He offered her a comforting smile. She scooted back an inch. Guess I need to work on that. “You‟re going to have one hell of a hangover.” She winced and nodded. Sage had been right, Erin was timid. Then why had she been dancing on a bar table? He shrugged. Wasn‟t his problem. “Come then. Let‟s get you some coffee. I won‟t be bringing you to your sister half dead.” She took his outstretched hand and he helped her off of the bathroom floor. “We need to treat your head wound as well. How do you feel standing up? Are you dizzy?” “I‟m fine.” Her voice came out hoarse. She cleared it with a cough. “I think you‟ll be okay. Coffee first. Then I‟ll get ice for your head.” She nodded, pulling on her boots when he handed them to her. Silently she followed him out the hotel door towards the 24 hour gas station and snack shop across the street. Marcelo smiled to himself. Maybe this would be easier than he‟d thought. Although he was still confused and worried that he hadn‟t been able to traverse that night, at least the girl followed directions. Not like her sister at all. He stepped over a bum passed out against a garbage can. The store‟s florescent lights stood out against the black of night. Outside the snack shop, Erin froze. “I‟ll wait here,” she said, her voice no more than a whisper. He shook his head. “Not possible. You go where I go.” Clearly she didn‟t know the danger she was in. They‟d be having a talk about that later. “Not in there.” She gestured to the store with her eyes.

“I‟m not asking,” he said with a warning growl. Perhaps he had spoken too soon about her willingness to follow his orders. Either way, she needed to know that they would be doing things his way. And better to clear that up right away. “No!” She took one shaky step back. What the hell is wrong with this girl? “Why not?” he demanded. She didn‟t answer but she tensed as if she were going to flee. “Damn it, tell me!” She shook her head. “If you won‟t give me answers I‟ll assume you‟re being difficult. In which case I‟ll throw you over my shoulder and march you in there myself.” Her skin paled at least three shades. Her eyes turned to saucers as air hissed in and out of her mouth. A wild heartbeat reverberated in his ears. She smelled like fear. Grasping Erin‟s elbow he pulled her down an alley, stopping under the brick building‟s outside light. She leaned forward, bracing herself with her hands on her knees, calming her breaths. Marcelo looked from the store, to Erin‟s face, then back again. Realization struck. “Are you having a panic attack?” he asked. She cringed and nodded. “Because of this store?” Another nod. “Only this store?” She gazed up at him, auburn eyes peeking from under thick lashes. Slowly she shook her head. “Everywhere?” he asked, praying to gods she said no. “Just about,” she answered. He staggered back several steps. “Bloody hell!” He rubbed his hand against his forehead as if soothing a headache. Only vampires didn‟t get headaches. “Bloody, bloody hell.”

*** I hate when they do that. Erin watched the towering figure pace before her. He was obviously irritated about her…disability. Most people were, once they found out exactly what it meant. Erin had social

anxiety. Anytime she was around new people, she panicked. No grocery stores, no restaurants, and no shopping malls for her. Not without alcohol. Lots of alcohol. Which was why she often drank. It was the only time she felt free. Free of fear. Free of anxiety. She could be herself. Well, a really loose, reckless, impulsive version of herself. She trusted the man her sister had sent only because she trusted her sister. I wonder if he knows she’s not my real sister. Sage and Erin had spent several years in the same foster home as children. They were the closest thing either of them had to family. And they‟d fiercely protected one another throughout their lives. Sage would never have sent someone who would hurt her. That was why she felt like she could give him a little push. “Is it that big of a deal to just let me wait outside?” she asked though she knew he wasn‟t upset about the coffee. “I‟m not going anywhere. And you can see me from the window.” He whipped his head around to pin her with a stern glare. “Yes it‟s a big deal!” he snapped. “Clearly you don‟t understand the danger you‟re in.” She didn‟t, really. All she knew was some wizards were after her and it had something to do with Sage. It was no surprise to Erin. Her sister was good at pissing people off. “You stay by me at all times until this is over, is that clear?” The menacing look on his face was enough to make her nod her head in agreement. Taking out her arsenal of weapons, she slapped on her most charming expression. “But,” she said, taking a tentative step towards him, “you could just run in real quick and grab me a coffee couldn‟t you? It would only take a minute.” She shrugged with an innocent smile. “In, out, no big deal.” He stopped pacing to face her with an arched a brow. “I could say the same to you, querida.” Damn. He’s got me there. She hung her head then looked up at him with the puppy dog eyes she‟d mastered over the years. She knew the moment he became putty in her hands. He inhaled deeply then ended in a long, drawn out sigh. “All right. I‟ll get you coffee. But you are to stand here,” he dragged her by the arm and placed her in front of the store window, “and you don‟t move. Understand?” It was a tad overdramatic for her taste, but she nodded. Hopefully she wouldn‟t have to deal with him for long. In only the few minutes they‟d spent together she could already tell he

was arrogant, overbearing, and…grumpy. She couldn‟t help but feel like she was the reason for his bitterness. At least he wasn‟t bad to look at. No, he was sexy as hell. Tall, dark, and handsome came to mind. Only, replace handsome with terrifyingly delicious and you would be spot on. His black leather pants hugged his backside perfectly. His powerful thighs, thick and rooted like tree trunks, were wrapped cozily in the soft pliable leather. Men just don’t wear leather pants enough anymore, she thought, nibbling her lip, staring shamelessly while he waited in line. Thick raven hair framed his gorgeous bronzed face reaching his chin. His face was rough and strained, but it was handsome in a rugged Hugh Jackman as Wolverine kind of way. She gave her head a shake. I have a boyfriend! She shouldn‟t be drooling over a friend of Sage‟s when she was completely happy in her current relationship. That reminded her, Jimmy would be back from poker night soon. He‟d be worried if he found the apartment empty. She would text him as soon as she found out from this mystery protector what the hell was going on. Coffee in hand, Erin followed her bodyguard back to their room where he ordered her to sit on the bathroom counter so he could treat her wound. She insisted it was fine but the unbending look on his face told her she should just go along with it. She hopped onto the counter while he ran cold water over a washcloth. “You never told me your name,” she said, pulling back her hair to give him access to her wound. He leaned forward to study her temple. “Marcelo.” His breath whispered across her skin giving her goose bumps. “Marcelo? Is that Italian?” “Spanish.” His accent mixed with his rich, husky voice was hot enough to melt ice on any Albany winter day. His language was from a different time but he didn‟t look a day over thirty. Brown eyes as dark as chocolate flickered back and forth between fury and a strange sort of warmth. Just when she was about to ask if he was from Spain strong fingers gripped her jaw and tilted her head to the side. She flinched when he pressed the washcloth to the wound. Immediately he backed up, his eyes filled with concern. “Did I hurt you?” She smiled. Hm…maybe there’s a gentleman under all that uncombed hair and surly exterior after all. “A little, but I can take it.”

Marcelo nudged her knees apart and settled his hips between them. He leaned in so close she could hear his heartbeat. Or maybe that was her own. Yep. Her heart was pounding ferociously in her chest. She never would have guessed hands as big as his could be so gentle. Warmth poured off of him, wrapping her in his scent. Inviting, relaxing, seducing. Pure male. She almost moaned out loud in pleasure. Snap out of it, Erin! You’re being ridiculous! Even the sting of the alcohol he dabbed on her head wasn‟t enough to stop her from breathing him in and feeling the sudden urge to just melt into him. “What were you doing at that bar alone, Erin?” he asked, breaking the silence with a cool voice. Something about his tone and the way he‟d used her name made her feel like she was about to be scolded. It was enough to snap her out of the strange hypnotic trance his body had induced. “Umm…just having a couple drinks…with some friends,” she answered casually. But she‟d never been a good liar. Marcelo lowered his head and looked her in the eye. Yup, he saw right through her. “You cannot lie to me. I was there, remember? I caught you when you tumbled from the table you were dancing on. And you didn‟t have just a few drinks. You were quite drunk.” A chuckle escaped her. “No…I was tanked.” But it had been fun and she had no regrets. “Ow!” she cried when he scrubbed the dried blood viciously from her head. What happened to the gentle giant? With a disappointed sigh, he wet the washcloth again and soothed the sore area with gentle strokes. “Why do you laugh about getting drunk? You could have been raped. You don‟t know how men think when they see a girl like you dressed up like…this.” He waved a hand at her clothing. She furrowed her brow. What was he trying to say? She looked like a slut? “And when I left with you, I saw no friends step forward to defend you. You put yourself in a very dangerous situation, cosita.” “Well aren‟t you a downer,” she grumbled to herself. But he was right. With a sideways glance he plopped a towel filled with ice into her hand. “Put this on your head.”

She frowned. It was just a little bump, wasn‟t it? She opened her mouth to argue then shut it when he arched a challenging brow. This was a man used to getting what he wanted. I better pick my battles. Slapping the ice onto her head she jumped down from the counter. “So, what do we do now?” “Now I take you to your sister.” “Where is she?” Sage had been vague about her location in the last few months. The more questions Erin asked, the less her sister answered. But they were the kind of friends that could go a long time without talking then pick up right where they‟d left off. It was the perfect relationship for people like them. For people who‟d grown up never really having a home, never having a family. Ignoring her question, Marcelo turned away and strolled into the bedroom. “Where‟s your car? Is it at the bar?” She followed him, ice against her head. “Yes, it is. Now, are you hard of hearing or just ignoring me?” He paused at her sour tone then dropped his gaze. “I better let her explain where she is.” She scrunched her nose in displeasure. “Okay. What about the wizards –” “Sorcerers.” “Whatever. What do they want with me?” “I better let her answer that as well.” She sucked in a sharp breath, attempting to tame her rising frustration. “Is there anything you can tell me?” He ran a hand over his chin, studying her face as if the answer were written on it. Uh-oh. She knew that look. Either Marcelo was going to lie to her, or, at bare minimum, give her halftruths. “There is a group of sorcerers who want you in custody. We think it has to do with Sage but we don‟t know for certain. They are powerful and dangerous. I will protect you until I hand you over to Sage and James.” She scowled at the implication that she was some sort of package. “This can happen quickly if you cooperate.” He gave her a weighted glare that irritated her. As if she weren‟t already doing everything he told her!

“Also,” he continued, “we will be traveling to Colorado. Together.” Then he was inches from her face so fast she flinched. “And as I said before, you do not leave my side!” She rolled her eyes. “Yes, sir.” She‟d meant to be sarcastic but he smiled and said, “Now you‟re getting it.” Rolling her eyes again she watched him walk to the window. With graceful movements, he opened the curtains and stared into the night. It wasn‟t just his looks that made her breath hitch and her knees tremble, it was his very presence. Powerful. Confident. He took over the room and everyone in it with a quiet sort of strength. It sucked you in and held you captive as you found yourself ready to do everything and anything he asked with no question or hesitation. It was dangerous. He was dangerous. Marcelo turned back around to face her, surprising her with the depth in those chocolate brown eyes. Rich and deep, swirls of midnight black threaded through the tawny brown. “How did Sage know the sorcerers were interested in you? Did they try to hurt you?” She shook her head. “Two of them came to my apartment.” She had known they were up to no good straightaway. They had been too friendly. No one dressed up like FBI agents but acting like preschool teachers should be trusted. Jimmy had convinced them she wasn‟t home though she‟d stood just inside the door, listening to every word. “They said Sage was in danger and needed my help. I knew it was a lie. Sage would never send for me if it involved danger. We‟ve always protected each other. Plus, she can take care of herself.” Marcelo‟s brows shot up. “Why do you look so surprised?” His lips curled up on one side. Whether it was in amusement or disgust, she didn‟t know. With Sage, it could go either way. “I happen to have an interesting history with your sister.” Before she could question him, he asked, “How‟s your head?” She lowered the icepack. “Cold.” His lips twitched. “Leave the icepack. Let‟s go get your car.” He opened the door to the hallway. “Right now?” “Yes, right now. The faster I get you to Sage, the faster I can get on with my life.” Well, when you put it like that… “Look, it‟s obvious you don‟t want to be here. Just take me to my boyfriend. He can bring me to Colorado just as easily.” She shook her head roughly, then muttered, “Not that I even believe Sage is th –”

“That will not be happening.” She arched a brow. “Why? Because of the danger?” When he nodded she insisted, “Jimmy can keep me safe.” Marcelo let the door slam shut and took one intimidating step towards her. “Really? Did Sage tell you about werewolves?” She shook her head. She‟d only heard about sorcerers and witches – her sister was both. Sage had also told her to stay away from anyone too good looking to be real, and anyone who gets furry on the new moon. Vampires and werewolves. It hadn‟t taken much for Erin to believe her. Ever since Sage had begun blowing things up with a single thought and making thunderstorms appear in sunny skies, Erin had begun to believe that anything was possible. Marcelo took another step closer, making an exaggerated effort to loom over her. In a dark voice he explained, “Sorcerers are known to hire werewolves to hunt their prey.” Prey? She shuddered. “Werewolves are just under seven feet tall with shoulders wider than that doorframe.” He gestured with his eyes towards the door. “When they turn to their crinos form, half wolf, half human, they get even bigger. Their fingers turn into claws with nails five inches long and as pointy as daggers. They grow upper and lower fangs and their jaws extend big enough to fit my entire fist in their mouth. They are fast and unbelievably strong.” His gaze roamed her body in a disturbing way. “Strong enough to snap you in half like a twig. And vampires are no better. They are just as deadly, only worse because they often look like ordinary people. You wouldn‟t even know if you were talking to one.” His eyes twinkled with amusement. “That‟s who‟s hunting you, querida. Still think your boyfriend can keep you safe?” Erin stared at him, careful not to show any fear. Sage may have sent someone who wouldn‟t hurt her but that didn‟t mean Erin was stupid enough to believe everything that came out of his mouth. And this guy looked like trouble. He looked deep into her eyes, seeming to search her very soul. It was more unsettling than the visual of the werewolves he‟d just given her. Averting her gaze, she stepped back and dug into her pockets for her phone. They were empty. Where the hell – “Looking for this?” he said, holding her phone in his palm. “You stole my phone?” Okay, the dictatorship is officially annoying.

He shrugged. “I merely caught it as it fell from your pocket while you were shamelessly dancing half naked on a table top.” Lips pursed, she held back a string of profanities. “If you think you can make me feel guilty about that, you‟re wrong. Now give it back!” She thrust her hand towards him, palm up. “Not likely.” Was he holding back a grin? Amused by her anger? She lunged for the phone but he yanked it away at the last second. With an irritated huff she gave up. Marcelo outweighed her by at least one hundred pounds. She wasn‟t about to fight him for it. “You won‟t allow me to at least tell my boyfriend I‟m okay?” she asked in her sweetest voice. “Already did. Sent a text while you were sleeping. Now get going.” He opened the door and held it with an arrogant smirk. Just go with it, she told herself. You’ll soon be rid of him and reunited with Sage. Repressing a growl, she stomped through the door. He was so silent behind her that she looked over her shoulder to be sure he followed. When she saw his eyes glued to her ass, she sighed. Men! “Eyes up, Lieutenant.”