Scandalous Shifters Paranormal Box Set

by Mia Taylor

  “Yes, My Lord,” he muttered, unsure if that was the title he was meant to use.

  It was not the proper one and the Commodore roared with laughter as he gestured for Ashur to sit at his side.

  “Lord?” he chuckled when he finally stopped chortling. “There are no lords here. Michael has filled your ears with lies.”

  Ashur did not point out that the dark otherworld was, in fact, worse than he had been told.

  Everyone lied. Nothing could prepare us for this. There simply are no words to describe it.

  “There are no lords or ladies,” the Commodore continued. “Do you see anyone being worth more than another in this forsaken place?”

  Ashur looked at his hands, sensing a trick at hand.

  “I asked you a question, wolf!” he roared, and Ash jumped, shaking his head.

  “No, uh, yes… I am uncertain of how to respond, lord.”

  The Commodore grunted.

  “Firstly, cease calling me lord, or I will string you up on the pole.”

  Ashur cast him a tentative glance.

  “What should I call you…?” he asked, willing himself not to say “lord” once more. His manners fought against his need to survive with his sanity.

  The Commodore cocked his furry head to the side and examined him closely.

  Suddenly, he lowered his voice and leaned in, his inky eyes darting around the room to look around as if he feared being overheard.

  “You alone may call me Com.”

  Ash was certain he had misheard, but when the Commodore sat back, Ashur saw an eagerness in his face which both terrified and confused him.

  He seemed a small, evil child, rubbing his paws together with glee.

  “Com?” he choked, and the Commodore nodded.

  “It has a nice sound to it, doesn’t it? I always liked how kind and warm it sounds. Anyway, we are Commodore, you and I, Ash—may I call you Ash?”

  The conversation was taking a surreal turn, but Ashur had no choice but to follow along, sensing a grave danger which lurked beyond the words.

  After all, it was the Commodore with whom he spoke.

  “Yes… Commodore,” Ash agreed slowly. “I suppose we are all fortunate to be children of the gods—”

  “Oh, please!” the Commodore scoffed. “If we were all His Grace’s children, you and I would not be residing in the fires of eternity. He has forsaken us, cast us out because He is too blind to see our worth.”

  Ashur could not agree with him even though he knew the Commodore was expecting him to do precisely that.

  It was not the gods’ fault his brother had betrayed him. Jayce had chosen that path all on his own.

  As if reading his mind, the Commodore chuckled.

  “You believe that the gods are without fault. You are nothing more than a trained monkey. If nothing else, the dark otherworld allows you to be the true you, the beast you could not be in life. Here you are encouraged to follow your primitive desires and act, not suppress them in hopes that your soul will be saved. You already know that you are beyond redemption now.”

  Ashur had to admit that the Commodore had a point, and that night, the leader’s words rolled around in his head.

  In the following weeks, the ruler seemed to seek him out and they began to discuss the virtues of shifter theology.

  “Do you long to return to the bright afterlife?” he asked, licking the blood of a live chicken from his fingers. Feathers clung to his snout and Ash cocked his head in amazement.

  It had always seemed incredible to Ashur that animals had been sent to the dark afterlife.

  What could they have possibly done to warrant such a ruthless eternity? he wondered, imagining a chicken on a killing spree. But it was a question for another time.

  “No, I do not long to return,” Ashur answered truthfully. “Not any longer.”

  “It is because you know you cannot?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “I imagine this was the gods’ plan in part—”

  “You are a fool!” the Commodore spat. “There is no plan. Every creature is for himself. I hope you do not pray to the gods any longer.”

  Ashur was ashamed to admit he did not.

  He could not say when that had happened, but he could not recall the last time he had spoken to the gods. He reasoned that he no longer believed anyone was listening.

  The gods’ ears do not hear into the pits of darkness.

  The Commodore laughed as if he knew the answer to his own question and shook his head.

  Over time, Ashur began to see the truth in the shaggy wolf’s words and the fear he had once had of the beast turned to grudging respect.

  One evening, the Commodore took Ashur on a private walk through the immaculately kept grounds of his estate.

  Lava fountains flowed from the mouths of nymphs while the hydra yipped through the yard playfully.

  “You are not alone, Ashur, but you and I, we are not like the others. We have tasted the glory of bright afterlife. We have walked the streets paved in gold, heard the harps and met His Grace firsthand. The loss is more bitter than anything we have ever known. The others have no idea what they are missing because they have never seen what they are missing. You are more resilient than I. It took me hundreds of years but I, too, am resigned to my fate. And it is fate. Now we must do what we must, embracing the hand which we have been dealt.”

  “At what cost?” Ashur asked and as the words left his mouth, he wondered why he had asked them. A debate with the Commodore could not be won.

  Submission was the only win.

  “What else could you wish for, Ashur?” the Commodore chuckled. “We are all the feral beasts we were born to be. We remain in our natural bodies. We are no different than any other animal, no matter what the gods will have you believe.”

  Ash knew what it was he wanted but it would be years before he admitted it to the Commodore.

  I may not have turned my back on the gods, but there is still something I want, something I will be mocked for.

  He was silent on the matter for several years.

  The day he had finally broken his silence had come at the poker game. Ashur had been at his usual spot, next to the Commodore.

  He had become somewhat of an advisor to the ruler but in what capacity, Ash could not say. All Ashur knew was that the Commodore was the closest thing to a friend he had in the fiery pits, bizarre as it seemed, not just to him but everyone else.

  Ash knew he was both an object of pity and envy, for no one wanted to be so close to the sadistic wolf ruler, but they vied to know which favors could be curried in such a position.

  In the beginning, Ash had tried to warn himself of the repercussions of befriending the beast, no matter how innocuous their conversations seemed.

  He could not shake the sensation that the Commodore had a dark plan brewing in the depth of his scheming mind, but as the years passed by, there was no mention of anything untoward and slowly, Ashur began to lower his guard.

  Until three weeks past.

  “Tonight,” the Commodore announced, jumping atop the flaming table, tossing the decks of cards randomly into the air, “tonight, we do not play poker. Instead, we take wagers.”

  There was a wave of begrudging groans as the men began to fork over their weekly earnings, but the Commodore held up his hand.

  “Now, where is your sense of adventure?” he demanded mockingly. “What do you take me for, simply assuming your wages? No, we will have a bet, one on one. Who would like to start?”

  Of course there were no volunteers and Ashur felt himself grow alarmed as the Commodore’s ebony eyes rested upon him.

  “My dear Ash,” he declared. “You and I will begin this game, shall we?”

  “As you wish,” Ashur sighed, wondering if the mangy wolf ever got bored of his own antics. “What are the rules?”

  Not that it much mattered. It was clear that the Commodore would win as he always did, but Ashur was in no mood to fight. He only wished for the game
to be done so he could step back into his pitiful existence.

  “You must tell me your deepest desire,” the Commodore explained. “And if it is in my power, I will make you a wager to ensure it is done. But if you lose, the consequences will be dire.”

  Ashur stared at him, a strange sensation fluttering through his gut. Unrest flittered through the crowd, each one knowing that the game was rigged, but what choice did they have but to indulge him?

  “Commodore, you may as well take what you desire,” Ash sighed. “There is no need for theatrics. You always win and we all know it.”

  The Commodore’s eyes bored into him and Ash felt a flash of apprehension snake down his spine. He realized he may have spoken out of turn.

  “If you play by the rules, I will also,” he purred. “On my word.”

  Ashur stared at him, mouth parting slightly as he tried to gauge his opponent.

  Your word is caca, he thought. The Commodore scowled and Ash knew his thoughts had been read, but that did not worry him as much as it once had.

  Their relationship had reached a much deeper point than anyone could have ever anticipated.

  Should I go through with this?

  Ash knew it did not matter what he did—the Commodore always won. It would be in his best interest to indulge the ruler’s whims. Minimally, it would take his attention from the others if only for a time.

  When did I learn to feel responsible for every murderer, thief, and sinner in the dark afterlife? Ashur wondered, but he could not recall a time when he had not felt some level of compassion for the damned souls with which he shared his existence now.

  If Jayce still resides in the bright afterworld, who is to say that these men are also not deserving of a place? I am not the one to judge. Apparently, no one is there to judge except gods who refuse to see the truth.

  “Tell me what you crave, Ashur,” the Commodore said, his eyes narrowing. “Tell me what you wish for and I will ensure you have it—if you are able to do it my way.”

  “I want love,” Ashur blurted out. For a frozen moment, no one spoke, the words sitting solidly in the air. Instantly, Ash wished he could reclaim the words. Abruptly, the crowd burst into hysterical laughter.

  All but the Commodore, who held up a hand to silence them.

  “Love?” he echoed, the word seeming to roll about on his tongue as if it soured him to speak.

  “Never mind,” Ashur muttered quickly, wishing he could recant his blurt. “I have changed my mind. I would like—”

  “No! You shall have love,” the Commodore interrupted slowly. “But here are the rules…”

  Ashur gaped at him, waiting to hear the beast’s concoction while reminding himself that it was not real. It could not be. As always, the Commodore toyed with them all.

  But he could hope, and as he listened, his faith grew stronger.

  It was the closest thing to hope he had felt in decades.

  “You will have one month on earthly ground,” the Commodore began, falling back against his throne to make a steeple of his claws, the pads of his paws spread wide as his mind worked. “You may go with your shifting abilities but you may not use them to influence the mind of your chosen.”

  “Ashur must use his charms without manipulation?” someone in the chamber called. “A sheep has a better chance for seduction!”

  There was a roar of laughter and a sudden explosion as the Commodore cast the chortling group to flames.

  When the screams subsided and they reappeared, charred and shaken, the Commodore continued.

  “One month and she must be fully in love with you and you alone.”

  “You will permit me to return to earth?” Ashur gasped. “For a month?”

  “If you should find this love,” the Commodore pressed on as if he hadn’t heard the question, “you will remain there as an immortal soul with this true love. She will also be granted immortality if she does not already possess it. But if you should fail…”

  Ashur waited, his grey eyes growing wide and worried as he listened. For the first time since he could recall, there was an almost deafening silence around him as if the otherworld had ceased to function for one moment in time.

  What could I possibly give him? What would he want from me?

  “You will remain here, ruling in my place while I take over your form and stay on earth.”

  Ashur stared at him, the short elation he had previously felt dissolving into a puddle.

  “How can you do such a thing?” he asked, his brow knitting in confusion. “You are bound here.”

  “I was,” the Commodore agreed. “But that was before another fallen shifter came along. It can be done and if you should lose this wager, I will return to earth and seek my vengeance on the gods without having to babysit the lot of you.”

  Ashur bit on his lower lip and stared at his guardian warily.

  “Why do you not simply take what you want?” he whispered, uncomprehendingly. “Why must we do this?”

  The Commodore grunted and sighed.

  “Okay, you have me figured out,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “I cannot just do that. You must agree to it and I assume you will say no if I merely ask. So, let us try it this way, shall we? A real, honest wager.”

  Their gazes locked and Ashur heard the Commodore inside his head for the first time since falling from the bright afterlife.

  “We are not the same as the other souls,” he said pleadingly. “Give me a chance to reclaim what is mine and you shall do the same.”

  At what cost? You know he cheats. He lies. He deceives.

  “I will play fairly. I give you my word,” he vowed and Ashur could hear the sincerity in his words.

  The loss will be great but the gain… that will be something I will never again have the opportunity to have…

  Ashur nodded slowly, making his decision as he raised his own snout to meet the Commodore’s eyes.

  “Yes,” he breathed. “I agree.”

  In a whirlwind moment, he was on earth, dressed in nothing but a t-shirt and blue jeans, inhaling breathable air. There was no aftermath of sulfur, no scent of smoke.

  He did not have high hopes for the future, but as he thought about where he was, he realized that the bet was already worth it.

  No matter what comes from this, Ashur affirmed silently, I have experienced life on earth again, tasted clean water, eaten food, touched others, and felt smiles or warmth. I will not forget these feelings when I lose to the Commodore.

  Yet as Ashur gawked at the vision of beauty before him, he knew for the first time that he was about to win the bet. Never before, in all his weeks of wandering the eastern hemisphere, did he embrace the swelling of happiness inside him.

  “What is your name?” he almost whispered. A lopsided smile formed on her lips as she looked up at him, seeming unsure of his closeness.

  “Serafina,” she replied, giggling nervously, but she didn’t move away.

  “Serafina,” he whispered. “The fiery one.”

  Her auburn eyebrows furrowed, and she stared at him.

  “Excuse me?” she asked, a coy smile playing on her lips, but Ashur shook his head. He had already spent enough time talking.

  “I am going to kiss you now.”

  She did not resist as he grabbed her, pressing his mouth to hers, and Ash felt her body quiver as their tongues met.

  She pulled apart first, eyeing him with interest.

  “Would you like to come back to my place?” she asked and Ashur nodded, longing to kiss her again.

  I am going to win this wager, I am certain, but how will the Commodore react when I do?

  He pushed the concern from his mind and raced after Serafina.

  There was still time to worry about the Commodore.

  He had more important matters to think of at that time.

  Chapter Five

  Overwhelmed

  They did not make it out of the hospital.

  The heat rushing through Sera’s loins was too
much for her to bear and without realizing it, she had pulled Smith into a supply closet.

  She had no way of knowing if they would be caught, but she didn’t care.

  All Sera knew was that she needed to be taken by this mystery man and fast.

  What am I doing? some remote voice yelled at her from the back of her mind, but she barely heard it, ripping her shirt over her head and throwing herself forward.

  The stranger caught her and pulled her close, dancing backward against the wall until his back landed against a metal shelving unit.

  Neither of them seemed to notice as the items crashed to the floor in a clang of insanity.

  He reached for her breasts as their lips crushed into each other, their tongues wrestling to explore.

  Sera gasped and pulled back suddenly, her green eyes clashing with his grey and she felt as if he were reaching into her with only his stare.

  Do I know him? Why do I feel like we’ve met?

  A warm rush filled her and instantly, she was consumed by headiness as his hands teased her nipples, but Sera pushed them aside, pinning his arms against the rack as her head moved across the front of his shirt.

  She dropped one wrist, eager to see the size of him beneath his jeans, but even before she did, she could tell he was well endowed.

  She was not disappointed and when she dropped to her knees to take him into her mouth, her dark emerald eyes fixated on him.

  He startled her when he cried out as if he had never experienced such an action, but Sera did not slow down, and she could tell he did not want her to as his fingers locked into her auburn waves.

  Guiding her down, she took him fully and he mumbled something that she couldn’t hear.

  “Oh, dear gods,” he muttered again, and Sera tightened her mouth to create a vacuum effect. Tears formed in her eyes as her motions became almost violent and she used her free hand to slip into her own pants.

  “Wait!” he protested but she did not stop, finding her own pulsating button and massaging herself in time to her deep, rhythmic thrusts.

  His sooty eyes seemed ready to pop from their sockets as they watched the scene with disbelief, but Sera’s gaze went hazy as her own body tensed.