Chosen by the Vampire King

by T. S. Ryder

  "They won't!"

  "I might have to kill Adam," Brian admitted. "But the others will be my sheep."

  Anger flared and Claire spat in his face, clawing at his eyes. She was never going to let this beast touch her! "I am Roland's mate," she hissed. "You will never be Alpha!"

  Brian snatched the gun off the nightstand and pressed it against Claire's throat, making her freeze. "Once Roland is dead, the others won't have a choice but to accept me as Alpha. And neither will you."

  Chapter Nine

  Roland frowned at his phone as he stepped into the lobby of his office building. After many hours of discussing business deals with his business contacts in China, he had gone out for a late breakfast. He was only just returning when his private phone rang. Few people had access to his personal number, and yet here was a call from a number he didn't recognize. He answered the call.

  "Is this Roland Davis?"

  He recognized the voice. It was that little detective who was always flirting with Adam. Grace something. Claire's friend and coworker. "Yes. How did you get this number?"

  "I'm a detective. I detect. And Claire left her phone open one time after she called you and I have a photographic memory."

  Roland headed for the elevators, rolling his eyes. He’d thought this girl was as ditzy as they came. "What are you calling me about?"

  "Have you seen Claire today?"

  Roland stopped. They had agreed to be inconspicuous. So why was Grace asking him if he'd seen her? "Why would I?"

  "Because she's half an hour late for work and she's not answering her cell. I hoped that she was lying about her relationship with you and that you two were—"

  "Spare me the detail." Roland's heart rate increased. Claire was never late for anything. She was almost neurotic about being on time or early to wherever she was going. And she would never not answer her phone. His wolf, already close to the surface because of the moon, growled deeply. "She stayed at my place last night but she should be at work now."

  "She stayed at your place?" Grace sounded delighted.

  This time, Roland did growl. "Do me a favor and send somebody over to check? Hopefully she just slept in."

  But even as he said the words, he knew that wasn't the case. Something had happened. Something horrible. He spun on his heel, scanning the lobby for Adam. He was on the back wall, casually flirting with the woman who brought the mail.

  Claire suspected one of his pack had killed Melissa. What if… It was too horrible to think about. His own pack wouldn't betray him. He refused to believe it.

  "We're going back to the mansion," Roland called to Adam, already striding out of the door. It would only take twenty minutes to get back to his mansion.

  He just prayed he wouldn't be too late.

  "What's up?" Adam asked, as soon as they were outside.

  "Claire didn't get to work." He paused a moment, hating what he was about to say. "She thinks that a member of the pack killed Melissa."

  Adam cursed under his breath as they got into Roland's car. "It can't be."

  "Can't it? Somebody was deliberately poisoning Melissa to make sure she couldn't carry any of the babies to term. Who besides a member of the pack—"

  "It can't be one of the pack. We'd know."

  They had only driven a block when there was a thunderous sound behind him. Adam slammed on the brakes as the world took on a red hue. Roland smelled the smoke before he turned. Red flames licked the sides of his office building near the top–right where his office was. Where he was meant to be at that moment. Where he would have been if Grace hadn't called him.

  Cold dread doused Roland head to toe. He turned to Adam, whose eyes were just as wide as his.

  "If it's a member of the pack—" Adam started.

  "Get to the mansion. Now!"

  Adam stomped on the gas, making Roland jerk to one side. His heart hammered. What if they were too late?

  It had to be Brian. He had done late night work in Roland's office the night before and it was his day off work. Roland felt like he had been stabbed. The hurt of betrayal rose in him, making his wolf throw back its head and howl in sadness. He thought he had been making progress with Brian. He thought… but the other werewolf must blame him too much for letting him be turned in the first place. Was this all about revenge?

  "She's going to be fine," Adam said, trying to make his voice upbeat, although Roland could hear the stress in it. "Only an idiot would kill a cop."

  Roland closed his eyes, forcibly rejecting all the confused thoughts in his mind, letting his wolf closer to the surface. He would do anything it took to protect his mate, to make sure she wasn't harmed. His wolf growled and the sound reverberated in his chest. He felt his canines grow, and claws sprouted from his nails.

  They reached the mansion quickly. Roland threw himself out of the car before Adam had even come to a stop. He rolled over the ground several times before he jumped to his feet and ran to the guesthouse. Claire's rich, chocolate scent was heavy in the air but she was nowhere to be seen. Brian's scent was thick as well.

  The wolf growled again and Roland dropped, nostrils flaring as he took in the scents. Outside, two paths went off in opposite directions, Claire and Brian's scents mixed together in both.

  "You take that one," he ordered Adam.

  His Beta nodded and scampered off in a half-crouch. Roland continued following his own trail. His business suit felt constricting, so he tore off his jacket and tossed it aside. The trail led him to a garden shed at the very back of the property. The scents grew stronger. Roland kicked the door in, adrenaline pumping through him.

  The first thing he saw was Claire. She was in a half-sitting position at the back of the shed, her hands tied together behind her, a gag in her mouth. She was wrapped in a sheet and nothing else. A snarl broke free as he registered Brian hunched over her.

  Brian looked up. His eyes widened and he sprang to his feet. "Roland—"

  Roland didn't wait for another word. He threw himself across the room, hands outstretched and grasping for the werewolf.

  Claws tore through Brian's clothes and Roland smelled blood. A hazy mist settled over his vision as he sent first one punch and then another into the other werewolf's face. He no longer saw Brian, a member of his pack. He saw an enemy who had threatened his mate, and he would show no mercy.

  A fist flew at Roland's head and he ducked, but he didn't see the punches to his abdomen and chest coming. He grunted at the impact, stumbling backwards. Brian snatched a two-by-four off the ground and swung it at the Alpha. He blocked the blow, jabbing at Brian's eyes with his fingers. Brian jerked back just in time to spare his eyes. With a growl, Roland kneed him in the stomach. Brian grabbed the Alpha's neck and slammed him against the wall. His canines flashed and sank into Roland's shoulder.

  The Alpha roared in pain, wrapping a hand around Brian's throat. He squeezed, cutting off the other werewolf's breath. Brian sank his fist into Roland's stomach again and again, until Roland stumbled back, gasping and wheezing. Brian sagged against the wall, panting, then pushed himself to his feet again. He turned his head. Roland followed his gaze. A gun lay beside Claire. She writhed against her bonds, eyes wide as she tried to grasp it.

  Both werewolves staggered in a circle, panting, glaring at each other.

  "We both know how this ends," Brian gasped out. "So let's get it over with."

  He dove for the gun. Claire rolled, covering the weapon with her body. Roland lunged, seizing Brian by his shirt. They tumbled over the ground until Roland sprang to his feet. He dragged Brian up and threw him against the wall. His canines sank into Brian's throat. The copper taste of blood exploded in his mouth. He felt the flesh give as he tore. Brian's eyes widened. His hands clutched the front of Roland's shirt.

  The Alpha stared at the bubbling blood and smelled that the wound was fatal. Fear rolled in waves off Brian, and just like that, he was a pack member again. Roland gently lowered him to the floor, supporting his head and neck as the bloo
d continued to flow. He tried to staunch the river but there was too much damage.

  "I would have protected you until death," Roland whispered. "All of you. You were one of my pack, one of my family. I'm sorry that you were cursed with being a werewolf, but—"

  Blood bubbled on Brian's lips as he laughed. The sound was wet and gurgling. His gaze sharpened for a moment. "You'll never understand."

  The smell of blood was heavy in the air as Brian's eyes lost their focus. Roland heard his heartbeat, rapid at first, then slower, then nothing at all.

  "No," Roland sighed, bowing his head. "I won't understand."

  Movement behind him reminded him that Claire was still bound and gagged. He closed Brian's eyes and turned his back on his dead pack member. Claire's wide eyes stared at him. She was terrified. He could smell her fear and hear the rapid beating of her heart. His own heart sunk low. After seeing him like this, she would run. And he wouldn’t blame her. He pulled the gag from her mouth and dropped his gaze as he started on the ropes.

  "Did he hurt you?" His voice was rough.

  "No."

  "Did he…?" He didn't want to think about the possibility that the bastard had actually raped Claire. But if he had, then he needed to know–Claire would need therapy, and even if she wanted nothing more to do with him, he would make sure she got the help she needed.

  "No," Claire repeated, softer this time.

  Relief flooded him. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

  He couldn't undo the knots, but his teeth were still sharp in his mouth, so he bent and gnawed through the bindings. As soon as she was free, Claire threw her arms around him.

  Shock rippled through him. After what she had just seen, how could she stand to touch him? She should be running from him as fast as she could! He had just brutally killed another man and she was hugging him?

  "It's not your fault."

  Roland realized he was trembling. "I've never killed anyone before."

  "He would have killed you. It's not your fault." Claire stroked his hair. "It's not your fault.

  The taste of Brian's blood was still in his mouth. He held his mate as tightly as he could, afraid that if he let her go there would be nothing to anchor him and he'd go spinning off the world, never to return. She stroked his hair, whispering again and again that it wasn't his fault. Roland had no breath to respond. He could only hold her tighter.

  Chapter Ten

  It was two weeks after Claire had given birth. She sat at the kitchen table in Roland's guesthouse, her new home. She traced the gentle curve of her belly, feeling almost melancholy that there wasn't a life inside her anymore. But holding her tiny daughter was worth the loss of movement inside her.

  "Hello?"

  Claire jumped as Grace's voice came out of her phone, where it was laying on the table. She shook her head, grounding herself back into the present. "Sorry, I lost my train of thought. What did you say?"

  "I was asking if Roland is any better."

  Claire sighed. She knew from her own experience that killing someone, even in self-defense, wasn't something that you just magically got over. Roland still carried a lot of guilt, both for Melissa and Brian's deaths, although he had been making progress over the past months.

  "He's doing better, yes. But it's going to take him time to recover. I'm just glad that he's seeing that therapist."

  "Give him my best."

  "I will."

  Claire shifted uncomfortably. Her breasts were feeling overly full. It was time to go feed little Ada–the tiny baby needed to be fed every hour. Claire smiled as she remembered her daughter's birth. It had been easier than she had thought it would be, but after she saw exactly how tiny her child was, the ease of labor had made sense.

  All the full moons throughout the pregnancy had been difficult, but they had got progressively worse as the baby grew, and Claire had been constantly worried that she was going to lose the baby. Roland had helped ease her fear by staying by her side, even when his body changed to that of a humanoid wolf. But when Claire had gone into labor at 36 weeks, she had been glad that she wouldn’t have to go through another full moon while pregnant.

  "More importantly, when can I come and meet Ada?"

  Claire winced. Grace had been thrilled about the pregnancy, and Claire knew that she was planning on being a big part of Ada’s life. But they had to be careful about when they had visitors, and make sure that they planned around the full moon.

  “Soon, I promise. Look, I have to go and feed her.”

  “Okay. But send me a picture at least.”

  “I will do. Call you later.”

  Claire hung up the phone, smiling, and headed into the bedroom. Ada Doyle-Davis was born weighing just five pounds and four ounces. When Claire first saw her, her heart had stopped. She was certain that, even though her baby had survived the full moons, she couldn't survive being born so tiny. Ada had been only skin and bones, and she still seemed exceptionally thin, although the doctors had said she was doing fine.

  Roland sat on the bed, cradling their daughter against his chest. The doctors had told Claire that physical contact was very beneficial for babies born prematurely, so the two of them took turns holding her at all times. The other members of the pack hung around, making food, cleaning and never straying far from the guest house. All of them were extremely protective of the little girl who would be the next Alpha.

  "Is she awake?" Claire asked, and Ada stirred at the sound of her voice. Her eyes had not yet opened, but she still responded to the sounds around her.

  "Awake and wanting her mother."

  Claire slipped off her shirt and unhooked her bra. Ada's tiny mouth was already searching as Roland passed her to her mother.

  Roland put an arm around Claire as Ada began nursing. "She's amazing."

  "She is. Grace phoned. We're going to need to be careful with her. I think she’s going to want to spend a lot of time with Ada. I'd like to be able to tell her the truth someday, but…"

  "Adam would like that, too. I think he might be smitten with her."

  Claire couldn't help but laugh. "If he can get her, it'll be a miracle. That girl goes through boyfriends like we go through socks."

  "Adam's always had a similar relationship with women. I told him that he's not allowed to get her pregnant, but the rest is his business."

  "Hypocrite," Claire cooed. "If I hadn't gotten pregnant on our once-only night, would we be together now?"

  "Yes." Roland shrugged at Claire's raised eyebrow. "We would have found a way to be together. We are meant to be. You're my mate. Somehow, no matter what else happened, you and I would have found each other."

  Claire had to admit that he was right–she felt just as strongly as he did. "And now we have Ada." She leaned her head against his shoulder, smiling. "I love you."

  "I love you, too." Roland's breath ruffled her hair. "I love you forever and ever."

  "And ever and ever," Claire added.

  Roland smiled. He laughed and drew her in for a kiss. "And ever and ever and ever and ever…"

  *****

  THE END

  The Dragon Shifter's Love Potion

  Description

  A witch in love with her best friend’s older brother PLUS a dragon shifter with a bad boy attitude PLUS a risky love potion!

  Thea, a twenty-one-year-old big, beautiful woman, has fallen in love with her best friend’s older brother.

  As a witch, she knows how to make the best potions, but love potions are risky...

  They only work if the drinker already has some feelings for the maker. Thea mixes the potion and spikes Logan’s drink, but she isn’t sure the sip he took was enough. Later that night, when Logan comes to her dorm room, she thinks the potion has worked after all. But the next day, Logan seems to have changed his mind, leaving Thea questioning everything.

  Does Logan have real feelings for Thea? What will happen when she tells him her secret? And what will her best friend do when she knows that T
hea slept with her brother? Find out now!

  Chapter One

  Thea went into the closet of her dorm room and pulled the door shut behind her. She turned on the lamp, illuminating the small space and all the objects she had brought in there with her. Several containers held crushed herbs or other elements, like the dove feather she’d had to find. There were several test tubes of liquid and a candle to heat the mixture.

  She looked at her book of potions, reading the instructions again. She poured oyster oil into an empty flask and added her own saliva. Then the dove feather. Next, she added the rose petals and lavender. She swirled the mixture while holding the tube over the candle’s flame, as the book instructed. She added the remaining ingredients, heating and cooling, stirring and sitting as the potion called for.

  When it looked to be the correct color, Thea dipped in her finger and tasted the potion. She’d never made a love potion before, so she wasn’t sure what it should taste like. But there were always certain things to check for with potions, like whether it tasted burnt from the flame or rotten in any way. She also needed to know how strong the taste was and what might hide it the best.

  This potion, though, unlike many others, was designed to be hidden. Most times, people didn’t knowingly drink a love potion. They had to be tricked into it. Tricked into loving the person who’d brewed it. When she tasted it, its taste was very faint. She could likely hide the potion in almost anything. Except maybe water. Or something too clear. It did have a pinkish hue to it that would show if whatever she put it in didn’t have a color or taste of its own.

  With the potion ready, Thea turned the lamp off and opened the closet door. Her dorm room was empty. That made things much easier. She mixed potions and did spells in the closet sometimes to keep them hidden from her roommate, but always worried that one time she’d come out of the closet to find Marie standing there, staring at her like she was crazy. And she would surely look crazy, having hidden in the closet for who knows how long. What excuse would she give? Was she looking for something? Was she crying in private? Or praying? None of them really applied, but her roommate wasn’t here, so all was well.