Monsters & Guardians Copyright ©2019 Kay Elle Parker
Published by Kay Elle Parker. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Published by Kay Elle Parker on January 5th 2019
Cover Design © JodieLocks Designs
This book is intended for a mature audience only.
Table of Contents
Disclaimer
Dedication | To my top team of beta readers who have helped me down this previously unnavigated road of non-consent, debauchery and reverse harem, you are amazing people and deserve to be acknowledged for giving me so much of your time during the writing of Monsters & Guardians. | I know there were times you hated me, so I apologize for that, but this journey would have been left unfinished if not for you standing with me and making me see I could do it. | So, much love to you all: | Nanette, Saskia, Beth, Annie, Charlotte, Sam and Sara.
Monsters & Guardians | Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
Other Works by Kay Elle Parker:
How to Reach the Author:
Dedication
To my top team of beta readers who have helped me down this previously unnavigated road of non-consent, debauchery and reverse harem, you are amazing people and deserve to be acknowledged for giving me so much of your time during the writing of Monsters & Guardians.
I know there were times you hated me, so I apologize for that, but this journey would have been left unfinished if not for you standing with me and making me see I could do it.
So, much love to you all:
Nanette, Saskia, Beth, Annie, Charlotte, Sam and Sara.
Monsters & Guardians
Prologue
Two Years Earlier – Maigh Cuilinn, County Galway
“Father, this is preposterous! You can’t expect us to—”
“Quiet. Don’t ever presume to tell me I cannot use my influence as Alpha of this pack to kick you into touch, Dubhlainn. Oldest son of my loins you may be, but you haven’t earned the right to challenge me yet, boy.” Fergus O’Callaghan speared his first-born son with eyes the color of amber trapped in sunlight. Bright, all-seeing eyes set in a weathered face of age, war and leadership. “Five sons I have. Five strapping men born of my blood—the blood of centuries of warriors—and not one of you have proven yourselves fit to lead this pack. Not one of you have taken a mate, though by the gossip running through the village, you’re quick enough to fuck the nearest bitch who comes begging. Not one of you have made an effort to extend the O’Callaghan line beyond yourselves. At this rate, the title of Alpha will be thrown down as a reward in the fighting pits!”
Taking great delight in the set of his sons’ shoulders and the unease in their eyes, Fergus stood straighter and growled low enough to set the hairs on his arms rising. They should be worried, impudent little bastards. Thinking they were entitled to everything he had worked and fought for since childhood. “None of you are guaranteed to take my place when I step down as Alpha. The title has been held in our family for almost two centuries, and you risk throwing it away.” Fergus jabbed a gnarled finger toward the smallest of his offspring. Although at six-three, Cabhan was hardly small. “My second son. Meant to be your brother’s right hand if he ever sits in command. Found drunk and half-knotted inside a serving bitch. A sterling fucking example of leadership, is it not?”
Cabhan ducked his dark head, his young face cast into shadow in the great hall where punishment and reward could be dealt hand-in-hand. But Fergus’s keen eyes—he might be coming to his sixty-fifth birthday but, by God, his eyes still held the magic of the wolf—picked up on the faint blush working over his son’s cheeks and neck. “It was a drunken folly, Da. Nothing came of it.”
Fergus’s temper snapped. “Nothing came of it because the lass was taken to Mother Moira and the problem taken care of before it could start,” he snarled furiously. “Did you think she’d be left to luck and nature, boy? Are you so fucking stupid at twenty-seven years of age that you believe you’re infallible to the ways of Mother Nature?”
“No, Da.”
“I will not have the line perfected by years of our forefathers ruined by five spoiled whelps who barely pull their weight by day and fuck away their nights. The decision has been made final between myself and the Council. Until such a time as you can prove you have become worthwhile and responsible members of the pack, you are to leave the village. The first of you to bring back a suitable bred and bonded bitch will be considered first-in-line for command.”
Dark green eyes glared at Fergus from beneath a creased brow. A genetic throwback to Fergus’s own great-great-grandfather, the inestimable Padraig O’Callaghan. Only this pair belonged to Malachi, his middle child of the five brothers. “Banishing us, Father, because we’re enjoying life? Jesus, how many stories have you told us over the years of your foolish, wild and drunken escapades?”
“There’s no denying that,” Fergus allowed with a nod. “Wild and reckless, I was, for a long time. And I had a mate waiting for me when I settled down. Your mother knew what I was, who I was, and what power she would have access to once I took leadership of the pack.” He grinned, remembering fondly the bitch who had whelped him five sons any wolf could be proud of—under other circumstances—and who had died a good decade past. “Never has there been a more power-hungry bitch than that one. She would have made a fantastic Alpha if she’d been born a male.”
“You never loved her.” The murmured words caught the Alpha’s attention, along with the surprise and...was that bitterness?
Fergus narrowed his eyes at Finn, the youngest and softest of heart. The boy was barely into his twenties and would make a better healer than a warrior. For sure, he’d never make it to Alpha—the pack would eat him alive within a week. That Finn could speak of love, the lack of it, was yet another indication of his inability to lead.
Love did not further a pack into greatness, did not ensure survival of their species in a time when their numbers were already dwindling. Love was a crutch, an excuse, a flimsy concept waved around to draw bitches in like bees to the honeypot.
“Aye, I never did, just as she never loved me. We fulfilled our destiny, boy. Five strong sons, born and bred to be valiant warriors and firm leaders. She ruled by my side for thirty-five years. Love was never a part of our dynamic and we were the better for it.”
“That’s why you’re still alive ten years after
her death.” Finn’s haunting gray eyes—a throwback to times long past as there hadn’t been a wolf with gray eyes recorded in the pack’s history for almost four hundred years—bore into his father’s with accusation. “A true pairing, a true bond, means you should have died when she did, or not long after.”
One of them was learning. Fergus acknowledged Finn’s angry scowl with an easy nod. There were tricks to being Alpha of a pack, little shortcuts that ensured leadership continued long after the death of a spouse or child. “Smart lad, Finn. Just like your mother. Breeding a bitch is a far cry from fucking one for fun. Breeding is a commitment, one no wolf takes lightly. Find one whose company you don’t mind, who can take your knot without too much screaming, and you shouldn’t have too many problems.”
“What if she doesn’t want to be bred? There are tales of unquenchable lust, of females who beckon to males unknowingly with pheromones. Innocent females with no comprehension of what we are.” Quinn, dark eyes gleaming with fury, lifted his head to stare Fergus down. “You think to banish us from the village, away from the females of our own kind, who are physically designed by nature to accept our forms? How much damage do you think we’re capable of inflicting upon mortal women? You’d expose the pack that way?”
Fergus showed his teeth in a wide, white snarl. “Expose the pack in any way, shape or form, and I will send the full wrath of your brethren down on your heads, sons or no. This is your chance to prove to me, to the Council, that you are not self-indulged, worthless fucking idiots. Fail and you will not return here. Dead or alive.”
They were bristling now, all five brothers born from the same womb and yet as subtly different as they were alike, and the scent of their rage was like a drug in Fergus’s blood. They would make an intimidating force out in the world, and hopefully that pulsing aura of danger would suck bitches in and give the pack a fresh wave of genetic material into an otherwise stagnant pool of DNA.
Too many wolves of breeding age were related closely enough to make mutations and defects a common occurrence. More than two dozen pups over the past last three years had been drowned at birth for just that reason, and more still had fallen prey to ‘accidents’ as they grew older and their imperfect flaws revealed themselves.
The pack did not allow defective stock to survive—there wasn’t the physical resources to support any wolf who couldn’t provide for itself. No time for bitches to be fussing over pups still crawling at six months old instead of running and shifting.
So new blood was required, and if wolf bitches couldn’t be found and claimed, mortal females were compatible enough to be bred and carry offspring to full-term. They just didn’t last too much longer after the birth, for the most part; their healing abilities were ridiculously limited and often the cause of their deaths once the pups left the safety of the womb.
“You are to be gone by first light. Whether you hunt your mates down as a bachelor band or go your separate ways, it’s of no interest to me. But you will not step foot within fifty miles of Maigh Cuilinn without a bitch attached to you. You are my sons, but until you prove yourselves to be the warrior wolves I know you can be, you will no longer be my heirs.”
Fergus’s words echoed around the great hall with finality. The order had been passed and was unbreakable now—there was no going back for any of them. He took one last look at the produce of his loins and saw strength, ruthlessness, compassion, determination and unflappable control in the faces so like his, so like his Sheila’s.
They were the future of the pack, if they embraced the beast inside.
Without another word, Fergus strode from the head of the hall, down the wide stone aisle flanked by flickering sconces of flame, and returned to the life he’d spent decades cultivating, not giving his sons even a backward glance.
They would fend for themselves, prove themselves, or they would die.
It was the way of the pack.
Chapter One
Present Day – Somewhere Outside Boulder, Colorado
Raine
Eyes were on her.
Raine moved quickly, quietly, through the unsettled nighttime darkness like a shadow, merging with nature as the prickle of awareness strengthened along her nape. She didn’t know who or what, but she was well aware she was being stalked. Had been, in fact, for damn near a month.
She didn’t like it.
Hunting things was her specialty. Wayward bears, wolves, moose that strayed too far toward civilization were the bulk of her day job—relocation or termination depending on the infraction and the animal. Highly skilled with knife, bow and gun, she worked alone, with confidence, and strived for the best outcome for the wildlife every time.
It quite literally gutted her if she was forced to end a life.
Her night career, however, was a little different and the reason she was out under the unsettling orange-hued full moon on this late September evening. Reports had come in of several livestock mutilations across the county and all signs indicated a pack of wolves migrating into the area. Teeth and claw marks were pretty specific, Raine thought as she remembered the sheriff’s report. Wolf, most likely a bachelor pack heading for cover for winter.
Unfortunately, they’d cost a few farmers a substantial amount in dead stock.
Luckily for her, she had knowledge her counterparts didn’t have access to and she’d put together a haphazard theory based on what she knew and what she felt. These were no ordinary wolves, that much was clear. Too big, too cocky, and using tactics only a human brain could devise to trap and kill their prey.
So, she was looking for shifters or weres.
She cursed as her foot slipped off a rock, caught her balance, and kept moving. The pack was tracking her and, by her estimation, had been doing so for over a month. Which meant they’d crossed state lines and had no qualms about running her to ground when they thought the time was right.
At first, she’d believed she was paranoid from too much time on her own and the nature of her after-dark endeavors, but it became clear that she was in someone’s sights when she felt eyes all around her wherever she went. Not to mention the dark, seductive scent of...something she couldn’t quite place but drove her hormones insane.
A twig snapped over to her left, deeper into the trees. For now, she was staying as far out in the open as she dared—she’d seen the result of their hunting tactics and she wasn’t amenable to being their snack for the night. But it seemed it wouldn’t make a difference; shadows parted from the darkness on either side of her, ushering her into a pincer trap. As she started to run, they kept pace, veering nearer despite the rocks and trees she was aiming for.
Driving her into a dead end.
Fuck. She slammed to a halt, her Army-grade boots skidding on loose earth, and spun around in the same movement, taking off in the opposite direction before her pursuers, all four of them, realized their quarry was bolting in the opposite direction.
Raine fumbled for the six-inch knife in the sheath tucked into her belt, gripping the handle firmly. Using it might become necessary and she wanted it in her hand as a warning if nothing else.
A goddamn mountain stepped out of the trees, cast in darkness, looming over her like God. She squeaked, dodged, and sent up a prayer as hot, thick fingers grazed over her arm, almost finding purchase. She yanked for good measure, ensuring he couldn’t get a hold, and sprinted for the trees. Maybe she could find cover for a few minutes, catch her breath, but she knew there would be no reprieve now.
Her heart rate and breathing were through the roof, impossible to contain and reduce to normal levels. The pack would hear her a mile away without a word passing her lips. And she was sweaty, her body pumping out her location in waves of fear, broadcasting trapped female to whichever male got close enough first.
So much trouble. How did she always get herself into so much fucking trouble? Her feet pounded the ground to the same rhythm as her heart, and then the ground vibrated as the mountain charged after her, no light-footedness from him.<
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Raine ducked and weaved through the trees, gauging spaces and sneaking through the smallest ones to gain an advantage over her main pursuer. More than once, she rapped hard into an unforgiving trunk or caught her flesh on branches, bark.
And she was tiring.
Two figures cut ahead of her, urging her like sheepdogs to take a left turn into whatever corral they’d devised for her. The one at her back made no move to tackle her, just kept pushing her steadily away, and the other two were nowhere to be seen.
She zipped right, heard a low and amused male curse, and strived for every last drop of energy she had left. If she had another two minutes’ flight left in her, she’d be lucky. Rough terrain was taking its toll. Her legs were turning to rubber, no longer long, powerful strides but jolting, wobbling half-steps as her chest burned and her oxygen levels depleted.
She stumbled, almost went down but by the grace of God managed to stay upright. Sheer force of will kept her moving despite her body screaming at her to stop, to rest, before she seized and died from overexertion.
“Finished yet?” His voice was like boulders tumbling down a mountainside; rough, deep and resounding. “We can go all night, little rabbit.”
Yeah, she just bet he could. Panting breaths wheezed into pathetic growls, useless against the likes of him. She thought he’d probably be laughing his head off at the inanity of her pathetic threat, but she didn’t stop running. Couldn’t. While her threat might be a bluff, his presence and that of his pack—because she sure as hell didn’t want to meet the actual Alpha if he wasn’t it—was nothing but reality.
The ground became rocky, lethal in the darkness. Although her eyes were used to the gloomy light now, they were blurring with exhaustion and tears of fatigue. Little more than hobbling now, she strained to put one foot in front of the other, mind on autopilot, until she dropped to her knees in defeat.
Body thrumming with adrenaline, she waited for two things—her system to crash, and hands to claim her. The hilt of her knife was slippery in her hand and she valiantly tightened her grip on it. She had others, hidden here and there, but she imagined they would be discovered by the wolves in short order.
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