Fated Mates: Paranormal Romance Series Starters Boxset

by Hariharan, Laxmi

  Nolan had found me and saved my life. When I’d regained consciousness, I knew without a doubt I’d never let that happen to me again. I’d never manage to lead a normal life. I was never going to be this weak, this vulnerable again. I had to learn to use my powers and defend what was mine. To safeguard my people and protect my country.

  When Nolan had mentioned the Fae Corps, I’d jumped at the opportunity. Not that life was easy while training for the Corps, but it was a hell of a lot less dangerous, and not just to my body. My story is similar to that of Dante, but it’s not something I am going to disclose to him or to anyone else. Not that I have anything to hide, but those memories are ones best suppressed. For some reason, all of that comes rushing to the fore, and I can’t understand why.

  Maybe it’s because I feel alive. For once, I don’t care about the mission the Fae Corps installed in me.

  There’s only this need to feel again. This intense urge to claim. To own. To break her. It’s why I cannot let her go. Why I am going to monopolize her and get her out of here. I am going to ruin her, only she has no idea yet.

  “You don’t mean it.” She raises her head so her lips hover at the height of my chest.

  I lick the last drops of sweetness from the lollipop then bend to my knees, so I am at eye level with her.

  “Try me.” I swing her up and over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Then stomp forward.

  The crowd of Fae and shifters who’ve gathered to celebrate the upcoming nuptials part.

  “Let me down.” She screeches then slams her fists into my back.

  I don’t feel it. No, I lie. The vibrations from the hit flood down my spine, pooling at the base. My dick hardens. I drop my hand to my crotch to adjust myself then continue to stalk forward. One step at a time.

  “Asshole, what the hell do you think you are doing?”

  “Giving you what you so innately crave, and that’s alpha-hole to you.”

  “Whatever, you brute.” She wriggles in my hold, and the side of her waist chafes against my neck. Her butt twitches.

  I smack the rounded flesh. The feel of her luscious curves sends lust roaring through my veins.

  Fuck, not what I’d expected. But so much what I want.

  The intensity of my need smashes over me. A low snarl vibrates up my chest. My ears lengthen, and I know then there isn’t much time left. I’d wanted to only teach her a lesson, but the bite of her nails as they sink it into my waist, through my clothes, the renewed moving around in my hold, all of it screams to me that I will not be able to stop here. My vision narrows; my chest heaves. I need to get her out of there.

  A figure steps in my path.

  “Get out of my way, Doc.” I shove at the other man’s shoulder.

  He moves aside, only to grab at my forearm. “You’re not thinking clearly, Chef.”

  “Fuck I care about that?”

  “My point exactly,” He holds my gaze, his features hard. “Don’t throw away everything you’ve fought for. You fuck up this mission and it'll cost you the Fae Corps.”

  Applause rings out around us. Behind me I hear cheering—clearly, the newly mated couple have arrived. The fucker Dante lucked out. He takes over as Commander of the Fae Corps and he’s found the love of his life. More power to my teammate.

  It’s all the more reason to get out of here. I'll never have the kind of bond that connects Dante and Gia. No one should have to put up with the seething mass of emotions that lurks inside me. No, all I have is her and I am not letting her go. Not now, not ever.

  I angle my head. “You’re right. I can’t mess this up. There’s too much at stake.” I raise my fist and slam it into Doc’s face.

  The big man goes sprawling on his back. The thud from the impact of his body shudders through the ground.

  Footsteps sound and Hawke comes running up. His gaze falls to Doc, then swivels to me.

  “Don’t,” I growl and tighten my hold on the woman in my arms.

  She bends her leg and tries to knee me. I ignore it. I step around Doc, and Hawke grabs my arm.

  I turn around and snarl at him.

  "Don’t do anything you’ll regret." Hawke drops his arm to his side. “I know you’re feeling something powerful for her, brother, just be sure you take care of your mate.”

  I set my jaw. “Not my mate.”

  Hawke folds his arms over his chest and stares.

  My heart begins to thud.

  Over my shoulder, all her muscles tense. “What’s the hell is he talking about?”

  The sound of her voice sends me over the edge. “You’re about to find out.” I race out of here, weaving through the crowd.

  I sense the fear that emanates from them. One of them makes to cross my path. I snarl, and he falls back. Then the faces fade. I reach the edge of the courtyard and leap over the wall.

  She gasps. “You do know I am a shifter?" Another thump slams into my back. "I am not a puny human who’ll give in without a fight.”

  “It makes this so much more exciting. You’re strong enough for everything I want to do to you and more…” The words come out so harsh, so needy, that hearing my voice only thickens my cock further.

  She must catch the intonation, too, for she struggles in earnest, kicking out at me, tearing at my back with her nails, and fuck if that doesn’t turn me on further. My groin twitches, my pulse races, and adrenaline spikes my blood.

  Lust sweeps through my body. Strong. Throbbing. So fucking intense. I stumble and almost lose my grip on her. The fuck is she doing to me? Only one way to find out. I draw in a breath in the space. The air lightens. The hair on my neck stands up. I draw up the energy from the hidden Fae part of me, let it rush over me, enclosing her in the bubble of the portal, and I teleport.

  To find out what happens next, get Jess and Tristan’s story in PROPERTY OF THE FAE, HERE.

  Binge read the entire fae’s claim series => US / UK / Other markets

  TURN THE PAGE TO MEET AARON IN BONDED BY THE DRAGON

  Bonded to the Dragon

  Dragon Protectors, 1

  Part I

  1

  Hope

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  Twenty-four hours into her break from being a sentinel of the dragons of Mauritania, Hope had walked into that bar in Bombay.

  She wasn't supposed to be in Bombay.

  The dragons had flown under the radar for so long. They'd kept away from people until they had all but faded from memory.

  She was taking a major risk by being in that city, but she hadn't been able to resist.

  The city had always called to her, and for once, Hope couldn't soothe her dragon out of the urge to visit.

  A few weeks more, and she would be bonded to a fellow dragon shifter. She was looking forward to it.

  Liar.

  Sweat trickled down her spine. The scents of the shifters, vampires, and humans in the bar, entwined with the smell of her desperation.

  She tightened her fingers around the glass. It shattered, the liquid splashing onto the bar counter.

  As one of the seven born to the dragon who’d founded her clan, it was her duty to mate with another dragon and continue her bloodline.

  No other species could survive the psychic impact of bonding with a dragon shifter. She was screwed.

  Likely, this was her last night of freedom, and she had to make the most of it.

  When she was out flying through the air or winging through the seas on her boat, she could be herself. She felt free to do what she wanted, without fear of letting down her family.

  It was also the reason she kept breaking the rules of her clan.

  It was childish of her, but these occasional bouts of rebellion were what kept her dragon sated. Enough to allow the woman to stay in control in human form.

  "Non-alcoholic ambrosia, please." She peered up at the bartender from beneath lowered eyelashes.

  T
he man's eyebrows flew so high they disappeared under the hair that fell over his forehead. "Let me guess. You're a dragon shifter, the only species who don't like alcohol."

  A jolt of fear ran through Hope. The heat of the enclosed space inside Alex's bar weighed down on her shoulders. Had she been found out?

  Then she saw the teasing glint in his eyes.

  She relaxed and raised her fingers to her mouth, pretending to yawn. "Do I look like a dragon shifter?"

  The bartender looked over her features, down her chest, to her waist, then back. "Hmm. You're curvy and tiny and too sexy to be one."

  She recognized his harmless flirting and decided to play along. "What does a dragon shifter look like anyway?"

  "Large, fire-breathing, with wings." He flapped a palm in the air. "Never seen one. They're almost extinct, right?"

  "Right." She flashed a smile.

  Had the satisfaction of seeing him blink.

  Oh, he was interested all right, and cute and friendly. Only…she wasn't looking for any complications.

  "By the way, it's not like dragon shifters don't like the occasional alcoholic drink. But when you’re a fire-breather, alcohol tends to add fuel to the flames. Know what I mean?"

  Hope clamped her lips shut. Hell! She shouldn't have said that. But her dragon had insisted she set the facts right.

  Dragon 1. Woman 0.

  Stupid game! But it was so much more fun to keep her dragon and woman in balance this way.

  Her animal was too damn close to the surface. She never had managed to rein it in. Very early, Hope had realized that unlike the others, her dragon took a lot more to control.

  The bartender didn't seem to hear her muttered comment. He was too busy shaking up a concoction.

  A crash from the other end of the bar had her turning that way. The hair on the back of her neck prickled. Both dragon and woman were riveted.

  The clinking of the glasses, the conversation of the couple next to her…all of it faded. All she saw was him.

  The man who had her attention rose to his feet, only to stumble.

  She didn't even realize she was moving until she found herself next to him.

  The feel of the rock-hard muscles of his shoulder bunching under her fingers sent a thrill of awareness rippling through her.

  She was in so much trouble.

  2

  Aaron

  Five minutes earlier

  "Non-alcoholic ambrosia?" Aaron stared into his glass, hunching his shoulders. Sounds of laughter, conversation, the clinking of glasses…all of it washed over him. Aaron wrapped the noise around his shoulders. He wanted to bury himself in its anonymity.

  "That's all you'll be getting from me for the rest of the evening." Alex, the bar owner, folded his hands over his chest. "You've already had five drinks in less than an hour."

  A record, even for someone who'd decided to make the bar his second home in the past few months.

  But it was not enough.

  Not when Aaron could still hear the screams of his twin, Zayn, as that bastard Noah had sliced the sword through him. Noah. An immortal warrior, a fellow Ascendant, had gutted his twin three months ago.

  In doing so, he'd torn out the other half of Aaron's soul.

  Zayn was gone. In his place, all that remained was a black hole. A darkness that had grown since the moment Zayn’s light had blinked out on the psychic web shared by the Ascendants.

  With every passing day, his grief expanded, until it twisted his insides. Until he'd become a creature he couldn't recognize anymore. A twinless twin.

  Just thinking about it pulsed of keening grief through Aaron.

  Keeping aside the ambrosia, he reached for the bottle with the amber-colored liquid he craved. It was the only thing that helped numb his emotions, blotting out any sign of who he was. Aaron Garcia. The youngest of their group of immortal warriors, since the death of his brother.

  Before Alex could protest, Aaron tilted the glass back, letting the liquid burn down his throat. It hit his stomach with a sickening thud that did little to douse the emotions warring there.

  Then, just as he’d intended, a veil of blankness crashed between him and the ever-present grief that threatened to overwhelm.

  Aaron still felt the pain, but it was a little duller. Only a burning twist of a knife's blade that carved out his heart, leaving him numb.

  The harsh sound of Zayn's breathing as he lay dying was muted. He would never forget the feeling of his twin's life seeping out.

  It should have been him, the cynical older brother, who had died. Not Zayn. Not the one who’d had so much life. Every time he’d stepped into a room, he’d lit it up. No one who’d met Zayn had remained unaffected by his pure joy of life.

  Zayn's vibrancy had provided that much-needed link to everything that was bright.

  With his death, Aaron had no anchor.

  He reached for his glass, only to miss it. The glass, toppled over and hit the floor, smashing to pieces.

  Without a pause, Aaron grabbed the almost-empty bottle, raising it to his mouth.

  Alex tore it out of his hand. "Enough!" He didn't approve of Aaron trying to drink away his grief.

  Neither did his fellow immortal warriors.

  Tired of being told off, Aaron had moved out of his barracks in the mayor's complex and into a room just above the bar.

  Alex hadn't turned Aaron away. Probably because it was easier for Alex to keep an eye on him that way.

  Not that it mattered, as long as Alex kept his tab running and kept the liquor coming every night.

  The alcohol had done its job. Aaron didn't feel anything. Not even his legs as he got to his feet…and almost collapsed. Reaching out, Aaron grabbed the bar counter, as if it were his only support in a world gone wrong.

  Someone touched his shoulder. The scent of vanilla and sunshine laced with something hot and spicy tugged at his senses.

  "You okay, Guardian?"

  Aaron turned, and the world tilted.

  Golden sparks in green eyes pierced the fog in his head.

  She raised her chin. The dark cloud of auburn hair around her face kissed the honey-brown skin of her neck.

  The amber pendant nestled in the dip between her delicate collarbones caught the light from above, throwing her face in relief. Cheekbones slanted down to meet a heart-shaped chin.

  She was sensuous yet had just a hint of obstinacy in those eyes to make her intriguing. Those luscious, unpainted lips. He wanted to sink his teeth into them.

  Aaron had wanted to shut out the world since Zayn's death. He hadn't thought that when he decided to face reality it would be like this.

  Months of holding back all emotions shattered, and the feelings he'd tried to smother for so long rushed to the forefront.

  "Guardian?" That husky voice called him back to the present.

  She was addressing him. His black pants and shirt with the armband were a dead giveaway that he was part of the mayor's elite team of Guardians of the City.

  His senses reached out to her. A flare of silver zinged between them on the psychic plane before disappearing so fast he was sure he'd imagined it.

  Heat slammed into his chest, and the breath whistled out of him. "Who are you?" He reached up to rub the spot over his chest where it throbbed.

  "Hope."

  3

  Hope

  He looked at her, and his pain sliced through her as if it were her own.

  Those cobalt-blue eyes drew her in, inviting her to drown in them. It was as if he saw straight to her soul, to who she was.

  If she let him, he'd strip away her barriers.

  His unleashed dominance thrummed against her nerve endings, and Hope's will dissolved.

  She wanted to reach out and pour herself into him, to push away the grief that dragged down his spirit.

  "Hope?"

  Little sparks of awareness skittered over her skin.

  He chuckled.

  The sound tugged at her lower belly, reaching
parts of her they had no business reaching.

  "I've been looking for hope."

  "Oh?"

  The man nodded, eyes intent, framed by long hair that flowed down his back. Cheekbones jutted out, sloping down toward an unruly beard that clung to his features.

  Hope wasn't partial to beards or to unkempt men, but the look suited him. He felt untamed, wild…and so sexy.

  Her dragon shifted, restless, jolting a pulse of heat through her.

  One side of his lips twisted, in a smile or a sneer, she couldn't tell. He looked like someone who was trying to hold on to his control. Or someone who was trying his best to not fall over.

  He was drunk.

  Even in his inebriated state, those glazed eyes held an edge of threat. His T-shirt molded itself to his chest, outlining rippling muscles that marked him out as a warrior. Tattoos ran up the side of his right arm, disappearing into the sleeve. He looked lethal.

  Yeah, this man had a mind of his own.

  Reaching out a finger, he brushed her cheek.

  Sizzle.

  A jolt of electricity coursed through her. His touch arrowed straight to her core.

  On the psychic plane, her dragon lunged for him, anxious to get close, to wrap her wings around this man and inhale his essence. Her dragon recognized this male. Wanted to bond with him.

  She reined in her beast.

  If she let things progress, they'd sleep together, and Hope knew it would not be casual. The Guardian’s life was in danger. From her.

  Her dragon felt connected to Aaron somehow.

  It would only make the parting—and they'd have to part—that much more difficult, for both woman and dragon.

  Best to stop it before it started.

  Besides, she didn't want to hurt him.

  She didn't know this man, so why was she so affected by him? Enough to care about his emotional well-being. It didn't make sense at all.