The Shifter’s Secret Baby

by T. S. Ryder

  "Cleo is already mine. I will defend her against the likes of you, but if I win I get more than what I already had." He glanced at Cleo to gauge her reaction. Her eyes were wide, but she nodded at him to continue. She must have guessed what he was doing.

  The Alpha's eyes narrowed. "What do you want, then, vampire?"

  "If I defeat you, then you allow me and my wife to return to our home in safety. You do not follow up with any assassination attempts, even if I don't kill you," Darius said, straightening his shoulders. His heart hammered, but his mind was set. "Furthermore, if I win, all of the shifters here leave vampire territory and surrender in this war."

  "I would expect a vampire to demand no less." The Alpha snarled but shrugged. "Very well."

  "Will these other shifters obey if Darius kills you?" Cleo shouted desperately.

  "I am their Alpha. They will obey. It will give you even more to lose as I choke the life out of you, vampire, to know that you failed your kingdom as well as your mate."

  The bear pulled a knife from his belt.

  "Wait," Darius nearly stepped back until he realized it would put him on the outside of the ring, "where's my weapon?"

  "You don't get one."

  The Thunder charged him, muscles strained and tendons popping from his neck. Pure hatred shone from the man's eyes. Darius pulled in a quick breath before running straight back at the bear. As the beast sprang forward, shouting, the knife in his hand glinting, Darius ducked. He slid under the bear's feet and twisted on the ground, aiming a solid kick at the bear's knees as he landed.

  Darius jumped back to his feet as the bear stumbled. He followed it up, punching the bear in the kidneys. An arm flew back. He ducked, but it clipped him on the top of his head. The sheer force of impact made him stumble. The Thunder roared, swinging the knife at him. Darius blocked him, using both arms against the bear's one. The force of the blow still forced him back a few steps.

  In the back of his mind, Darius knew that the shifters around them were shouting, that somewhere was Cleo's voice as well, telling him not to give up. His muscles strained as he fought to keep the knife from plunging into his body.

  A huge fist sunk into his stomach. Pain exploded through his body, blinding him. He was just able to keep his hands wrapped around the thick wrist, to keep the knife away. His heartbeat had nearly stopped from the blow. When a second one came, stealing his breath, Darius did the only thing he could.

  He lunged forward, clamping his teeth in the shifter's shoulder. The hand with the knife jerked and the bear pulled back. Darius took the opportunity to put distance between them, spitting out blood. It tasted awful like he had dragged his tongue through diesel.

  The bear inspected his shoulder. It was dribbling blood, but the wound was superficial. It would be healed before Darius had a chance to get his breath back. His lungs felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest.

  "I should have expected such a low blow from a vampire," the bear growled.

  "Low blow?" Cleo shouted from somewhere. "You're the one with the knife! If this were a fair fight you'd already be dead, but you're too much of a coward to face him on equal footing."

  The bear turned, snarling. Darius saw the opportunity to attack – but he was just able to draw in a single breath. If he attacked now, his strength would be greatly diminished. The Thunder would easily turn the attack against him.

  "And as for you, you wuss of a vampire, just take him out!"

  Darius couldn't help but smile. Always directly to the point. It was exactly what he needed. He didn't bother wasting time looking for his wife in the crowd.

  He ran forward, springing off the ground right before he clashed with the bear. The shifter spun on his heel to follow him, but Darius kicked him hard in the face before landing lightly and driving his knuckles hard into the bear's abs.

  The bear gasped for breath a moment, but raised his knife again and shook off the blows. Rage was still in his eyes, but there was something else as well. Desperation. Pain. And even as they continued to trade blows, Darius suddenly felt a surge of sympathy for his opponent. If their positions had been reversed and it had been Cleo to die… wouldn't he have done the same thing?

  There were only two options for the shifter. Revenge or death. There was nothing else for him. Not without his mate.

  Silence fell around them. It was just the two of them, fighting for so much more than their own lives. And when Darius twisted the knife from his opponent's hand and drove it through his throat, there was no joy on his face. There was no fear in the Thunder, either.

  "I'm sorry," Darius whispered, pulling the knife back out.

  The bear sagged, and he caught the massive brute and lowered him slowly to the ground.

  "I'm sorry for killing your mate," the vampire whispered. "I hope there's an afterlife where you may be rejoined with her."

  He got to his feet and backed away from the bear. Glancing around, he saw absolute fear on the faces of the shifters. Maybe that was a good sign. His shoulders slumped as he gestured to their Alpha.

  "The last thing he sees should not be the face of his enemy."

  The shifters stirred. A second man, almost as big as the bear he had just defeated, stepped forward. "Take your mate and leave. We will do as was promised and leave vampire territory."

  Darius nodded at him. Nobody challenged him as he went to Cleo's side. Tears shone on her face and there were red scratches oozing blood on her arms. He picked her up, holding her close, and started walking. He knew in his gut that the shifters would honor the agreement their Alpha had made. The war, at last, was over.

  If only there was a way this could have ended without violence, he thought sadly. But at least it is over now.

  Chapter Ten – Cleo

  The sun shone brightly through the leafy foliage of the elm tree that Cleo and Ed sat under. The sisters had a blanket spread out under them while Ed carefully cradled her newborn nephew. Cleo smiled at the sight. Even though she knew that baby vampires, just like the adults, couldn’t contract diseases, she had been nervous about bringing her son to the hospital Ed lived in. He was going to age at the same rate as humans until he hit adulthood, but, at the moment, he just looked so small and helpless.

  Seeing how her sister beamed made her glad she had decided to come visit.

  "He's so cute," Ed crooned. "What's his name?"

  "Tobar. I wanted to name him Eduardo so I could call him Ed after you, but Darius said that it was too close to Edward. Tobar was his father's name, so we decided on it."

  "What's wrong with Edward?"

  Cleo shrugged. "He said that there are already too many princes named Edward and that we wouldn't be adding to the list."

  "Why is he a prince?"

  "Oh!"

  Cleo shook her head. She had been so concentrated on her little son that she hadn't even remembered to tell her sister about the many changes that had happened over the past two months. The Rebeluna pack had kept the Thunder's terms of the fight against Darius. They had retreated from vampire territory, taking with them all the shifters fighting against the vampire armies.

  With them gone, shifter incidents had virtually stopped. King Iosif had publicly praised Darius for staking his life on the chance to drive them out. And just last week, there had been a huge celebration for three days and nights, at the end of which Iosif declared Darius his new heir. It was everything the two of them had hoped for.

  "Darius was adopted by the king," Cleo told her sister, deciding to leave out the complicated politics of it all. "He's the prince now, and he's going to be king someday."

  Ed stared at her with wide eyes. "That means you're a princess!"

  Cleo nodded. "Yes. It does. Speaking of Darius, he should be here soon. He said he was going to come spend the afternoon with us."

  Both sisters looked around. Ed pointed, although she was very careful to keep cradling Tobar's head. "There he is! And Gordon is coming, too."

  "I see them."

 
Cleo stayed where she was, smiling at her husband as he and his friend approached. Both of them returned the smile. Ed started to fidget, trying to smooth her hair one-handed while still holding the baby. Her eyes were glowing, and Cleo felt her own smile widening. Since she and Darius shared all their secrets, they had been visiting her sister often.

  Gordon came with them quite a bit, and Ed had developed quite a crush on him. Cleo's own relationship with the vampire was improving as well. They weren't friends, but they were getting there.

  "Hello, lovely ladies," Darius said, bowing to the both of them. "Do you mind if we join you on this fine day?"

  "No, you can join us," Ed said. "Gordon, sit next to me. I have a new cat’s cradle trick I want to show you."

  Cleo retrieved her baby as her sister started rooting around in her pockets for the string. Gordon sat beside her, a patient smile on his face.

  I'll have to remember to thank him for being so good with her, Cleo thought. It's not just a show, he really does listen to everything she says and doesn't get tired of her. She needs people like that.

  Well, maybe everybody did. But Cleo didn't care about everybody. She cared about her sister, and she was glad that she had a real friend that wasn't there because he was being paid. Although the staff at the hospital were terrific, Ed needed to have friends from the outside world as well.

  "Let's go over to the bench to play cat’s cradle," Gordon suggested, offering a hand to Ed. "I think Darius has something he wants to tell Cleo."

  "Okay."

  They went off, leaving Cleo alone with her baby and husband. The human turned a puzzled look on the vampire. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

  Darius was grinning. It stretched from ear to ear, and he looked so excited he was practically glowing. This was something special, Cleo could tell. But her husband shrugged, as though it was no big deal. He plucked a blade of grass from the ground and teased her nose with it. Cleo batted it away.

  "Don't keep me in suspense."

  "Okay. Well, I've been doing some research and asking around. I've arranged it so that Ed can come visit us at the estate regularly. And not just a drive out and drive back here. I'm getting a room set up for her there, too."

  Cleo's jaw dropped. "Can we really do that? She doesn't do well outside the hospital."

  "I've spoken with all her doctors, along with many other professionals. None of them see a problem with her leaving for short vacations. I've already hired a special staff to look after her at the estate and here, to minimize disruption of her routine. And it's not like we're going to let her run out of her meds, is it?" Darius brushed Cleo's hair from her face. "I know you feel guilty for not doing more, even if there wasn’t really anything more you could do. You were right, she needs professional caring, but we can facilitate that at the estate now."

  A warm feeling of love swept through Cleo and she kissed her husband, tears pricking her eyes. "Thank you."

  "You're not crying, are you?" Darius' soft voice was teasing. "The baby hormones are still getting to you."

  "Yes." Cleo laughed as she wiped her face. "I think you did that to me on purpose, getting me pregnant so you can tease me about my emotions being all over the place."

  Darius kissed her again, taking the baby as he did so. The tiny bundle of blankets looked so delicate in his arms. He beamed at his son. "Did you hear that, little man? You have made your mother an emotional wreck. But that's okay, isn't it? Because we don't have secrets from each other anymore – except for surprises and presents."

  "I'm glad we decided on that policy," Cleo said. "Sharing secrets. I didn't realize there was so much about my life that I wanted to share with you until I started telling you."

  "I'm glad, too. And I'm glad that you're my wife." Darius stroked Tobar's fluffy dark hair. "I'm glad we have a son. I'm glad we have peace. I'm glad that I'm the king's heir, but I'm gladder that I was able to save you. I could keep going forever."

  Cleo nodded. She understood the feeling. There was so much to be grateful for. But most of all, she was grateful for her husband. That he loved her. That she loved him. She leaned into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. Yes, she had everything she had fought for. But she had far more than that.

  She had love. And even if everything else was taken from her, she knew that love would sustain her the rest of her life.

  *****

  THE END

  The Shifter's Hostage

  Description

  A curvy gal with hidden powers PLUS an insanely sexy dragon shifter PLUS dangerous creatures looking for their next target…

  Lydia is a curvy restaurant manager who doesn’t need unfriendly customers. Least of all the arrogant, but unfortunately extremely sexy billionaire who keeps sending back his food.

  But when she’s suddenly attacked by a bunch of demons, the billionaire might just be the only one who can save her. Even if that means he has to keep her hostage in his fancy mansion. Just her luck…

  Ian Orkney a.k.a. “The A**hole” wants everything to be done exactly his way. But behind his self-built wall is a man who has lost everyone he loved.

  What he really wants is a mate and children. But that means he’d have to reveal the secret he’s been keeping for almost three hundred years: He’s the last of the dragons. His job is to protect the world against demons. And his newest project involves a human. An incredibly sexy one.

  Not that that matters.

  He could never love a human.

  Right?

  Chapter One – Lydia

  "Please, just kill me already."

  Lydia Crawford lay stretched out on the floor of the restaurant she managed, the cool floor doing nothing to soothe the swollen, uncomfortable ache in her belly. Her waistband cut into her stomach, her skin stretched to the point where she felt like a single poke would make her burst open like an overripe peach. She moaned in agony.

  The head chef of the restaurant, Amber, finished wiping down her food prep station and turned towards Lydia with a critical look in her eye. "You know, it's your own fault you're in this state."

  Lydia managed half a glare at her. "Is not."

  "Hey, nobody forced you to eat all that dessert. In fact, if I recall, I warned you that you shouldn't." Amber shook her head, smoothing her apron over slender hips. "It'll be a miracle if you don't die during the night. That was enough food to feed three tables. You should have just let me throw it in the trash."

  "But they were only three days old," Lydia protested. "And you know that Boston cream pie is my favorite. And blueberry cheesecake, and coconut cupcakes… I couldn't let it all go to waste!"

  Amber nudged Lydia's side with her toe just enough to make the horizontal manager groan again. "If you keep that up, it will all go to your waist. For all your moaning about not being able to lose weight—"

  "Yes, thank you," Lydia interrupted. "If you're not going to sympathize with my terrible plight, the least you could do is get a flour sack and suffocate me with it. Put me out of my miserable, hypocritical existence."

  Amber rolled her eyes. "Get up. You're my ride home."

  "My keys are in my coat pocket. Just leave me here to die."

  "Okay, now you're just getting annoying. Let's go. "

  Lydia sighed. She ought to have known she wouldn’t get any sympathy from Amber. It didn't help that they went through this ritual at least once a month. It just hurt to see all those beautiful desserts getting chucked into the garbage because three days was apparently too old. To make matters worse, the restaurant owner, Maria, was against donating leftover food. It was a tragedy. If they were going to the homeless or basically any cause besides rotting in a landfill, Lydia wouldn't have to eat them all.

  "Come on," Amber pressed, tapping her foot impatiently. "If we're quick about getting out of here, I'll be able to catch a rerun of I Love Lucy before it's time to go to bed."

  "I hate Lucy," Lydia grumbled but nonetheless rolled over. She groaned as her too-full stomach wobb
led in protest. Maybe this time she'd learned her lesson and she wouldn't overindulge like this again in the future. "You know, this is all your fault. If you weren't such a good cook, I wouldn't gorge myself on your food all the time."

  Amber prodded Lydia in the stomach, making her groan again. "If you weren't a glutton, you wouldn't be in this situation."

  Lydia got to her feet, the heaviness of the food resting on her pelvic bones. Ugh. "Keep it up, missy. Just keep laughing at me, and when I open up a restaurant of my own, I'll leave you here with this dump to rot among your three-day-old pies."

  "If you even open your own restaurant. You've been saying that for, what, five years now?" Amber patted her back gently as if trying to burp her like a baby. "Always the threat of not hiring me on. But it's not much of a threat if you don't have your own place, is it?"

  That was true enough. Lydia stuffed her arms into her jacket, frowning as she considered it. It was a big risk to open up her own place. A risk she wanted to take, but one she was too frightened to make just yet. She always said she needed more experience and money, but she practically ran Maria's restaurant single-handedly and handled most of the business as well as managing the workers. She knew all the ropes. With Amber as a partner, they had more than enough money for the initial investment. All they really needed was a loan to handle the first few months and they could have their own place in no time.

  "I don't think it's the right time," Lydia said. "Not with the economy the way it is right now. Even this place has been a bit slower for a couple months now."

  Amber shook her head, looking a little exasperated. "Is it ever going to be the right time for you? Lydia, you know I've received other offers. If things don't start happening between us, I'm going to have to accept one of them. We've got dreams, yeah, but I have dreams, too. And they don't involve sitting around here with Maria scolding me for every ounce of flour that goes to waste or getting into a tizzy about the cakes and pies we have to throw out, but then going back and yelling at me for not having three days' worth of desserts premade for customers."