Alpha's Second Chance_Shifter Nation_Werebears Of The Everglades

by Meg Ripley

  "What do you mean?"

  "There are members of the operative who have gone rogue. Their goal is to either eradicate us completely, or enslave and essentially weaponize us. Your father worked very hard to build his relationship with the clan, and when you were born my father marked you as my future mate."

  "Your mate?" she asked, "So I'm part of a breeding program? My father pimped me out to try to make, what, an army of tiny dragon hybrids?"

  She was trying to climb off his lap, but Arach held her firmly.

  "No. It's not like that," she wriggled again and Arach pulled her tightly up against his chest so she couldn’t move, "Listen to me. It's not like that. You were made for me. My father just recognized that and made the agreement with your father that we would be the link that would maintain peace between our worlds. Unfortunately, one of the rogue groups found out about it and threatened a war if you weren't given instead to their efforts."

  "Oh my god, Greyson," Aurora said, realization dawning on her painfully.

  "Yes."

  "So, you're telling me that I've been a pawn since birth. My own father essentially sold my ass to Greyson to keep peace that I promise you would not last anyway. He lied to me and he tried to take away my future because he got himself in the middle of –what? Dragons and dragon slayers?"

  Her mind was spinning. She was confused, furious, and deeply saddened all at the same time.

  "Yes, but he changed his mind."

  "What?"

  "Your father. He changed his mind about the arrangement. My father had a meeting with him just a few weeks before—"

  "That's why he was murdered," Aurora said quietly.

  Arach nodded, releasing some of the tension on his grip so he could stroke her cheek.

  "The hunters heard of his change of heart before we could properly protect him."

  "Did Greyson…" she trailed off, unable to even ask the question that burned in her throat.

  "Yes," Arach replied carefully.

  A botched break-in, the police had called it. Aurora and her mother had come home to Lee in a pool of his own blood in the living room, the cards for the speech he was working on spread on the marble floor around him. Aurora remembered dropping to her knees beside him and dragging her father's head into her lap. He looked up at her with terror in his eyes, his face streaked with blood, and took her face in his hand. Greyson, he had whispered. Aurora had reaffirmed her promise to him then, committing herself unknowingly to her father's murderer.

  "Arach?" a voice from the doorway broke through the tense moment between them.

  "Yes?" Arach said to the young man standing just outside the doorway.

  "They are coming."

  Arach nodded and the man ran away. He lifted her off his lap and placed her on the bed beside him, immediately starting to button his shirt again.

  "Who's coming?" Aurora asked.

  Arach didn't answer, but stood and started toward the door. Aurora chased after him, following him out of the room and into a cold stone hallway.

  "Aurora, go back in there," he demanded, not stopping, but glancing briefly over at her.

  "Who's coming?" Aurora repeated.

  She had to run to keep up with his long strides and the stone floor felt rough beneath her feet.

  "Go back."

  Aurora reached out and grabbed onto Arach, yanking him to a stop and shoving him back against the wall to the hallway. She was nearly a foot shorter than him, but she looked up at him without intimidation.

  "I have had enough of men telling me what to do in the last few months. Today has truly been the wedding day from hell. At least, I think it is still today. I honestly have completely lost track. I'm still standing here in my fucking wedding dress after finding out that the man I very nearly married murdered my father. So, stop telling me to go back and instead try telling me what the hell is going on."

  Arach looked startled and took her carefully by the shoulders to guide her a few steps back from him.

  "My clan took your father's murder as an act of war. That is why I connected with you when I did. I needed to bring you to me before the fighting began."

  "You connected with me on purpose?"

  "Of course. When a dragon has a human mate, he has the ability to connect with her in her dreams so he can spend time with her without being near other humans."

  "So, those dreams were real?"

  "They were both dreams and real."

  Aurora decided it was futile to try to understand any further.

  "Who's coming, Arach?"

  "The rogues did not take my removing you from your wedding well. They have made it known that they take it as a sign of aggression and are coming to take you back."

  Arach started walking again and Aurora chased him.

  "Greyson?"

  "Yes."

  "How did he explain you to the guests?"

  Arach led her through a massive wooden door into a room filled with weapons. He reached up and pulled a heavy-looking sword from the wall.

  "People only see what they think they should. By tomorrow it will have all been explained away and only those who already knew about us will have any idea that they saw dragons."

  Suddenly Aurora heard screams from outside. Arach muttered an obscenity and pushed past her through another door. Without a second thought, Aurora wrapped her hand around a crossbow and followed him.

  15

  Outside, a brilliant sunset was dying behind the horizon, sending tendrils of deep purple across the sky. Aurora looked around and saw dragons at every side. She heard another scream and took off running in the direction of the sound. As she ran, the terrain became more familiar. Soon she found herself in the forest where she had walked in her first dream.

  She ran until she came to the edge of the woods and saw a group of men slashing with knives at a dragon far smaller than Arach. The dragon made another of the screaming sounds and sent a weak stream of fire toward the men. Aurora didn't understand why the other dragons hadn't come. She started running again and as she approached the group she saw Arach rise out of the water and knock several of the men to the ground with his claw.

  To his side a man pulled a long sword from a sheath at his hip and raised it above his head. She immediately recognized him.

  "Greyson!" she called, stopping a few yards away.

  Greyson turned sharply and before he could say anything, Aurora lifted the crossbow and let the arrow fly. The sharp metal tip burrowed through his throat, tattering the skin as he collapsed to the ground. Everything went silent around her. The other men fell to the ground one by one, torn and burned. Within seconds, the battle was over. She dropped the crossbow to her feet and walked toward Greyson's body.

  Blood poured from the wound in his throat and he stared with blank eyes up at the sky. Sickness rolled through her as she looked at him, not because of the blood or even because he had died at her hand, but because of the trust he had so horrifically betrayed.

  No longer in dragon form, Arach walked toward her and gathered her in his arms. She hugged him back, burying her face in his chest.

  "Are you real?" she asked into his shirt.

  Arach pushed her back gently.

  "Yes," he said.

  "Was I really made for you?"

  "Yes," Arach repeated.

  "Prove it to me."

  Before she knew what was happening, Arach had shifted and she was on his back, riding him over the trees back toward the house. The dragons that had swarmed the area when she first emerged were gone. She would later learn about their rules of battle and why they had stayed behind while Arach and the other dragon fought. For now, all she cared about was him.

  Arach landed just outside the massive stone house and waited until she slid from his back to shift back into human form. He took her hand and led her along another stone hallway back to the bedroom. She noticed that the walls of the hallway featured swathes of purple velvet, a sign of royalty.

  When they reached t
he bedroom, Arach swept Aurora into his arms so he cradled her against his chest as he walked toward the bed. He set her on her feet at the edge of the bed and she felt his hands come to the back of her gown. The corseting strings released and he peeled the dress away from her body, letting it fall to the floor at her feet. She wore only white satin panties beneath and he lowered himself to his knees in front of her so that he could draw the damp cloth down her thighs and guide them off her feet.

  Taking her hips in his hands, Arach dipped his head forward and used his tongue to mimic the skilled movements of his hand the first time she had seen him in human form. The tip focused intensely on the swollen pearl of flesh at her peak and Aurora tossed her head back to let out a cry of pleasure. Stopping just short of her completion, Arach climbed back to his feet and undressed, tossing his clothes aside. Aurora drank in the beauty of his naked body in front of her. She reached for his erection and wrapped her hand eagerly around it.

  Arach drew in a sharp breath and Aurora took the sound as encouragement to continue. Still stroking him, she knelt in front of him and let her tongue slip past her lips so that the tip of his penis stroked across it with each long glide of her hand. He let her continue this way for a few strokes, then took her by her shoulders and brought her to her feet.

  Aurora complied willingly with his hands as he led her onto the bed and turned her body so her head rested on the pillows. He climbed up toward her and she could see the dragon in the power of his movements. Bringing his lips to hers, Arach stretched his body over hers so they touched from their chests to their toes. Aurora put everything into her kiss, letting him coax her further and further into her overpowering desire for him.

  She drew her thighs apart beneath his, causing him to settle between them and the tip of his erection to touch her opening. The sensation made her gasp and she looked into his eyes, holding his gaze as he pushed slowly forward, sinking deeply into her until his hipbones rested against her and her body felt full and fulfilled. She pulled the leather strap from his hair, releasing the silken strands so they fell around his face and onto his shoulder blades.

  Aurora buried her fingers in his hair and brought his mouth back down to hers. She flicked the tip of her tongue against the inside of his bottom lip, encouraging him. His hips rolled against her and she whimpered, relaxing against the feeling to let her hips open further to him. Each long, deep stroke massaged her and she used her hands on his lower back to guide him into a faster rhythm. As he thrust into her she could hear growls of pleasure in his throat.

  Sweat beaded on his skin and Aurora lifted her head to lick the drops off his shoulder before bringing her mouth close to his ear.

  "Let go," she whispered.

  Arach released the sounds from his throat and started moving at a faster pace, each stroke hard enough to elicit a cry. Aurora felt herself spiraling out of control and just as her body contracted around him, Arach gave a final, intense thrust and groaned loudly. She could feel him pulsing within her, spilling hot stream into her body as her tremors milked him.

  Aurora kissed along his shoulder as he dropped down onto her and tucked his head in the curve of her neck. War was coming. She knew it. All that mattered to her in that moment, though, was his heartbeat against hers and knowing that when sleep overtook her, she would remain in his arms, just where she was made to be.

  THE END

  Sneak Peek of Ranger Knox

  Werebears Of Acadia, Book 1

  Ranger Knox

  I’m pledged—as every shifter is—to keeping our kind and its history a secret.

  Because of my role as head ranger at Acadia National Park, as well as the Alpha of my clan, I have the responsibility of making sure no outsiders know about the real reason why our park came to be. Hannah, a journalist who's been snooping around doing research for an exposé, is most definitely an outsider, no matter how much the ursine part of my brain keeps insisting that she should belong to me.

  She should be mine. Except she’s not a bear—she’s not any kind of shifter. How could I want her? Is it possible that a human...could be my mate?

  And how will I keep her from unraveling the mystery that has kept us safe from the public eye for generations?

  1

  Hannah

  I pull into the spot where my Airbnb host said I could leave my car and look around me. It’s my first time in Bar Harbor, and though my surroundings look more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen on the Travel Channel, I’m not here to admire the foliage: I have an ulterior motive. Sure, the magazine could force me to use my vacation time, but they couldn’t keep me from writing while I did.

  I’ve been trying to work my way up to a full-time editorial position with New World for about a year, and when HR told me that I had to either take my vacation time or lose it, I hatched a plan to work on something while I was away. The magazine has its one-thousandth issue coming out in a month, and I figured--I hoped--that an exposé on the controversial history behind the National Park Service would put me in a better position to get ahead. So, I scheduled my vacation time and booked an Airbnb in Bar Harbor, a quaint little tourist town right outside of Maine’s Acadia National Park, and started to plan my research.

  I’d gotten the idea from a piece I’d read recently, which delved into how the National Park Service came into existence. Of course, there had always been green spaces that rich people bought up and set aside as conservation areas, but there was something in the article about the founders--something I couldn’t put my finger on--that struck me as a little odd. Aside from that, I’d come across these wacko conspiracy theory websites claiming the national parks were actually set up for some kind of nefarious purpose. The theories I’d read speculated they were being used as reserves for fossil fuels or gold and other precious metals; the most interesting and least likely to be true theory was that the lands had been set aside by freemasons and other occult groups in power for the sake of performing secret ceremonies.

  I grab my laptop case and backpack off the passenger seat and check my phone to make sure I’m on time. Mary, the woman whose house I’m staying in, seems to be a fairly accommodating host, based on the messages we’ve been exchanging, anyway. Her place is more accessible than the hotels in Bar Harbor, and considering it’s the height of foliage season, much cheaper. I lock my car out of habit, even though I can’t imagine anyone on the sleepy little street stealing from me.

  It’s chillier than I thought it would be, so I hurry up to the front door of the little house, pulling my denim jacket tight around me. I knock on the door and wait, fidgeting as I look around. Maine is one of those places that’s stunning when you’re looking at it in pictures or video, but if you’re standing outside in late September, it’s chilly and damp, making it hard to appreciate the beauty of the yellow, orange, and red leaves on the trees.

  “You must be Hannah!” Mary looks like someone’s mom: gray-streaked chestnut hair, wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, wearing a matching pink sweatsuit with 80s-era floral appliques stitched on the chest and pant legs. “Quick, come inside, dear; it’s getting cold out there.”

  I follow her through the door and make small talk about my drive up as she gives me a tour of the house. The kitchen has plenty of cast iron and a gas-powered stove--according to Mary, it’s more reliable than electric in the winters. Mary leads me upstairs to my room, explaining about the bathroom and how she got a tankless, gas-powered water heater installed so that she’d never have to wait for hot water.

  She shows me to the guest room, giving me the chance to unpack and get settled, but instead, I pull out my laptop and search for the Acadia National Park website. I chose it as the place for my work-cation because Acadia was one of the first national parks established by the NPS; I’d hoped it would be a good place to start.

  I look over the material I’ve already assembled about the park, thinking about how I’ll kick off my investigation. Well, the first thing to do would be to get there and check the place out,
I decide as I examine the maps of the area. Mary’s place is about two miles away--close enough that, in theory, I could walk there, but if I did, I may not have enough energy left to explore the place. It’s taken me all day to get up to Maine and it’s already late afternoon; I should probably wait until the morning, but if I want to get a real feel for the place, I’m going to need to check it out when there aren’t as many visitors there. I change into some warmer clothes--a thicker pair of jeans, a turtleneck sweater and a beanie--and I tell Mary that I’m off to run some errands.

  I get back into my car and pull up the directions to the park. I’ve got about another hour or so before it’s too dark to really see, but I’ve got a heavy flashlight with me, so I’m not too worried.

  As I pull into the park a few minutes later, I fumble through the glove compartment in search of the one-week pass I’d ordered online before my trip and hand it to the ranger at the gate. I take a second look and have to admit he’s pretty hot; he fills out that uniform really well with those broad shoulders of his. His deep brown hair and beard are cut short, and he’s got strikingly bright green eyes.

  “Just to let you know, the visitor center is closed for the day, but the park is open twenty-four hours,” he tells me. “If you need any help, there are signs posted just about everywhere telling you how to get in touch with the rangers.”

  “Thanks,” I tell him, taking back my visitor pass. Maybe I can interview him about Acadia, or at least get an official quote.