Her Alpha Mates_A Shifter Menage Romance

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Her Alpha Mates_A Shifter Menage Romance Page 3

by Maggie Ryan


  But, we weren’t on a battlefield. We weren’t even at Ravensloft. No, we were in the middle of the city. This was my domain. I stood, shocked, arms at my sides as she leapt to her feet and squealed. Dancing over to me in high silver heels, her flowery dress swishing with every step, she wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace.

  “Oh, honey, don’t you just look like the epitome of feminist fashion.” She tweaked the lapel of my long, tan, fitted trench coat. “So professional. And that auburn hair, those highlights just as fiery and beautiful as their owner. I swear I always wanted green eyes just like yours. How’ve you been, girly? How was that honeymoon with those—”

  “Where’s Debbi?” I was too startled by her presence to return her greeting. The accusatory words tumbled from my mouth before I could stop them, interrupting her incessant string of compliments.

  Hand patting nervously at her silvery-blonde beehive up-do, Dolly pasted a tight smile on her face. “Debbi?”

  “Yes, Debbi. You know, the woman whose desk you were sitting behind? She’s been with me since I started at the firm.”

  “Oh, yes, Debbi! She’s in Paris.”

  “Paris? Like in France?”

  Dolly gave an enthusiastic nod. Before I could wrap my mind around Dolly’s exaggerated ‘oui, oui,’ she continued. “It’s rather amazing, really. Turns out that Deborah never really wanted to be a secretary. She was so excited when your Deo offered her a retirement package—”

  “Retirement?” I said, interrupting her. “Debbi is not even thirty years old! She’s far too young to retire!”

  Dolly just smiled. “But not too young to begin a new life. Her dream has always been to become a chef. Believe me, she was more than grateful when she learned that Deo has procured her a spot in the next class at Le Cordon Bleu.” Clapping her hands together, she said, “Just think, she can learn how to make exquisite French cuisine in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower.”

  Part of me was thrilled that Debbie had been given a chance to fulfill her dream, but a selfish part, the pissed-off part, couldn’t help but wonder exactly how Dolly thought she could just step in to take Debbi’s place. Had Dolly ever held a job in her life? Not wanting to hurt her feelings by asking, I turned the conversation back where it belonged. “Why would Deo do that?”

  “Do what, honey?” Her eyes widened innocently.

  “All this. Hire a new security guard, change the name of the firm, push Debbi out.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

  The patting of her already perfect hairdo began again. “He’s… err… Deo’s made a lot of changes… recently.”

  “Since when?”

  “Um…you know—since he bought the building.” She gave me a bright smile, her brows raised, gauging my reaction.

  As I stood speechless, Dolly—in her bubbly way—informed me that Deo had bought the building, booted everyone out—all three floors—creating his own business with three partners: himself, Draco, and me. The doorman was Deo’s great uncle—super sweet guy, she informed me—and ‘Isn’t it just wonderful?’

  Maintaining my composure, I smiled demurely at Dolly as if everything she had just said was old news to me—and with a curt ‘excuse me,’ headed for the phone in my office to call Deo. I could feel her worried eyes on me as I marched through the empty hallway, holding my head high. I would dial Deo’s number and demand an explanation.

  Reaching the end of the hall, I was relieved to see that in the upheaval of the day, my name was still on my office door. Leaning against the doorframe, hand still on the door handle, I breathed in the familiarity of my space. My massive dark wood desk sat stoically in the center of the room, the bank of windows overlooking the city behind it. My possessions I had packed away the day Baal had come to take me to the castle had been returned to their shelves. The beautiful multicolored gem globe sat prettily on my desk, glinting in the sunlight that streamed through the windows.

  The only thing that was amiss was the striking man standing at those windows taking in the view of the New Jersey skyline.

  He turned to face me. The sight of Draco Ambrosia still took my breath away. Standing six feet two with broad shoulders, a rock-hard chest, a flat abdomen full of rippling muscles, and hips I loved to cling to as he fucked me, he truly looked like a god. Beneath his form-hugging olive green sweater I envisioned his mark—an intricate tattoo of a magnificent fire-breathing dragon, black swirls covering every inch of his bare chest. He could not understand my obsession with it. How my fingertips were drawn to it, lazily following the curves of the lines, my head resting on his chest after our lovemaking. It was hard to be in the same room as Draco and not have my panties fall right off onto the floor.

  Running a hand through his thick brown hair, Draco’s warm chestnut brown eyes met mine. A small smile raised the corners of his full lips, melting me to my core as he said my name in his velvety tone, “Cassie.”

  Willing the flush to leave my cheeks, I reminded myself of my anger, my rage. After all, my whole career had been turned upside down. My building purchased, my partners dismissed, my secretary replaced. All without a single word of consultation. Anger returning full force, I narrowed my brow. Slamming the office door shut behind me, I demanded, “What the hell, Draco?”

  Draco crossed his arms over his massive chest. Displeasure at my temper washed over his features, his eyes now stern. “Lower your voice, Cassie.”

  His reprimand was not enough to settle me. Throwing my bag on one of the empty chairs in front of the desk and smacking my coffee cup down, I untied the sash of my knee-length tan coat and plopped down in the other vacant chair.

  “Draco,” I said, lowering my voice to a level that I was pretty sure would fall in the ‘obeying’ category, but saw no reason to curb the sarcastic tone. “If you would be so kind as to explain to me why the words Ambrosia, Ambrosia, and Ambrosia have replaced the names of the partners of the law firm that I worked for, I would be forever grateful.” I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at the looming man standing across from me.

  “Though the volume is better, the tone could still use some work.” His brown eyes locked on mine as he casually uncrossed his arms. His right hand slowly reached down, resting lightly on his belt.

  Lowering my gaze, I gulped, my buttocks involuntarily clenching in my seat.

  Satisfied his silent threat was enough to have me hold my tongue, he took a seat in my office chair, leaning his elbows on the desk before him. “Deo bought the building, sent the occupants on their way, generously bought out the leases of the other businesses, and opened our own private… firm.”

  “Sent my partners packing? How dare he, I’ve worked with them—”

  Draco held up his hand to stop me, his eyes darkening. “You need to learn to trust us. Your ‘partners’ were not what you thought,” he said softly. “They were attracted to dark things. This firm was wrought with greed and corruption, though it was well hidden from the naked human eye.”

  Silent for a moment, I thought over Draco’s words. My husband and his family were able to see the darkness in the world and those prone to attract it. It was one of the mysterious powers they all had. Don’t ask me why Dolly and I weren’t graced with any cool tricks when we’d become Ambrosias—it was a source of contention for me.

  “Why didn’t you or Deo tell me before I left the house this morning?”

  “If I recall correctly”—he paused momentarily, his dark eyes flitting over my face, that brow quirking high—“you swept out of the house early with just a brief call of ‘see you later.’ If you’d graced the table and shared breakfast with us as we’d expected, you would not only have learned of the recent turn of events, but you would have known that it was my intention to accompany you.”

  “Don’t be silly. You wouldn’t be comfortable in my small coupe,” I said with a smile, thinking of his huge frame crammed in my car. “Besides, I know how you feel about Starbucks and I want to enjoy my coffee in peace,” I added, reaching for my cup a
nd taking a long sip.

  “I wasn’t talking about your little Lexus. We will be quite comfortable in the Escalade, and while I might not agree with your choice of beverage, I won’t begrudge you the indulgence.”

  I didn’t care to learn he obviously meant to be my driver, but there were bigger fish to fry. That one could be set on the back burner for now. “I still don’t see why Deo would want everyone out—not just those in my firm, but everyone in the entire building? Why would he make such a drastic move?”

  Draco’s fingers steepled, pointed at me and my stomach dropped.

  “Deo wanted everyone out of here, because of me. To protect me.”

  Draco’s eyes told me my guess was right.

  My heart softened toward my overprotective mate, the alpha of our pack. He was just trying to keep me alive, after all. “This is the only way it is safe for me to leave the house now, since the attacks have begun. Isn’t it?” I mused.

  “Your mind works quickly, princess.”

  “He was setting all of this up during our honeymoon, wasn’t he?” The hushed calls, the few meals he had left Draco and me to dine without him, apologizing that he had business to attend to. Deo had been busy buying the building and driving everyone away, using the enormous Ambrosia wealth to do so.

  “Deo is generous. And money can get a lot done in a short amount of time.”

  “You think?” I rolled my eyes. “For God’s sake, Draco, he sent Debbi off to a foreign country! And what about Cy and Andrew? Were they forced into retirement as Debbi was?”

  “It was best for Debbi if we kept her out of this. Not only is she thrilled to have been given the opportunity, she is safer if she moves on with her life, knowing nothing of our world. And, young lady, if you’d stop acting like your mate took away your favorite toy, you’d agree.” He paused, his look of disapproval making me fidget in my chair. “Now, as for Cynthia and Andrew, they have been hired by Deo.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. Call me selfish, but, well… losing Debbi was one thing, but I truly didn’t think I could bear losing my friends. “I’m so glad he kept them on. Andrew and Cy already know about the curse, the fact that you all become wolves and all your other little secrets. Not to mention both risked their lives to fight beside us.”

  My mind flashed to the battle: Deo had been injured, two demons on him, one holding the scythe that had torn Deo’s shoulder. I had taken the other demon on, but it wasn’t enough. Just before the fatal blow could fall to my mate, Andrew—whom Deo had previously treated with nothing but disdain—tricked the demon into burying the scythe in the ground, saving Deo. My husband bore a long, jagged scar from the scythe across his shoulder from that battle. A constant reminder of how close we had all come to losing our alpha.

  “We are all forever indebted to Andrew,” I reminded softly.

  “That we are,” Draco agreed. “Deo was more than happy to keep Cynthia and Andrew on. We all think of them as honorary members of the pack. It’s true that the focus of our work has changed, but there is still work involved. Should they choose to do so, Cy and Andrew will remain in our employ, training beside us, battling beside us.

  “Baal has been busy transforming the first floor of this building—outfitting it into a state of the art training facility. Under the care of Baal, you, Andrew, and Cy will continue to perfect your skills, increasing your strength and agility. You will remain the lawyer representing the Ambrosia family, protecting our assets and wealth. The second floor is where we are storing the Ambrosia documents, and where Artem will spend most of his days—”

  “Artem works here now?” I interrupted. I should have guessed as much, since his wife, Dolly, had just introduced herself as my new secretary. It only made sense that her husband would join the party. Still, a chill ran down my spine thinking of Artem and how a simple gaze and the slightest narrowing of his dark eyes were capable of making me aware he wasn’t a man who gave his approval easily.

  Draco’s eyes softened, reading my concern. “Yes, princess. He is studying the texts and looking for a loophole—”

  “To break the curse,” I murmured. “And what of Deo?”

  “Deo will spend his days at the house, monitoring while he manages our businesses and plans for the future.”

  “Where are Alekos and Xander?”

  “They remain at the castle. Guarding it. Xander running the perimeter, looking for signs of danger, of a potential attack. Alekos wanted to remain with Aunt Margaret at the castle but will be here at the first sign that his mankind need protection.”

  “Aunt Margaret didn’t return to Greece after the battle?” I squeaked out. The jury was still out on how I’d classify the relationship between me and Aunt Margaret. Though I was pretty sure she didn’t actually hate me, as she’d begrudgingly told Deo that ‘she’ll do,’ I still found the small, older gray-haired woman to be intimidating.

  “No. She remains at the castle. Should we need to return, she will have it prepared for us.” A light reached his eyes, a calm smile crossing his handsome face. “You haven’t yet asked my role at Ambrosia, Ambrosia, and Ambrosia.” Amusedly, he raised a brow to me. “Care to guess?”

  Overwhelmed by the sudden changes in my employment, I hadn’t given a thought to Draco’s presence in my office. Our trinity honeymoon at the house had been amazing, my mates lavishing attention on me, the three of us pleasuring one another. I had assumed that I would return to work today and life would go back to—somewhat—normal. And Draco would return to doing whatever it was he had done before this sordid fairytale began.

  How naive of me. Though Deo had left the house on several occasions over the past week, Draco had remained right by my side, every moment. Every single moment. The answer clicked in my brain.

  “You’re my—babysitter?” I spat.

  At my reaction, Draco gave one of his rare, low, rumbling chuckles. “That is but one of the roles I have, but, to answer your question directly—yes. Though I prefer the term protector. We are to share an office. Roommates, if you will. Shall you take the desk, or I?” Draco’s warm eyes sparkled with amusement.

  Flying to my feet, I roared, “Unbelievable, Draco! I don’t care what you call it, I do not need—”

  The door opened. I held my tongue and looked to see who dared to enter our office.

  My best female friend in the world stood in the doorframe, looking almost as angry as me. Her blonde curls bounced, her hips swayed beneath her tight, fire-engine red dress as she practically marched right past me, toward Draco, without a single wobble even in her five-inch heels. Yup, definitely a woman with a purpose.

  Standing before Draco, Cynthia planted one hand on the curve of her hip, the other hand with five perfectly manicured, hot pink painted nails waved in the air for emphasis as she demanded, “Would you care to explain to me what is going on? The last time I was in this building, after our little fairytale romp, I discover that instead of a new client file, I find a memo on my desk informing me that the firm is going to undergo a bit of restructuring. Not only am I requested to keep that information to myself, which I do, I’m asked to leave town. And while I admit, it was a lovely break, now I have to wonder if I was played for a fool. I come back, refreshed and ready to get right back into the swing of things and discover a bit of restructuring appears to be a huge understatement. Even though Dolly tried to assure me that I’m still employed—and believe me, I have lots of questions about what in the world she is doing here—and that I’m privileged to work exclusively for the Ambrosias now, I have no idea what exactly I’m expected to be doing. No offense, Cassandra, I know he is your husband…” Here she paused, her head swiveling to look at me. “Make that one of your husbands, but really? How is one client supposed to keep even a small firm busy enough?” Turning her attention back to Draco, she said, “So, again, what the h-e-double hockey sticks is going on here?”

  “Exactly what I’ve been trying to ascertain,” I said, moving to stand beside my friend. Sliding my arm arou
nd her waist, I gave her a squeeze. Lowering my voice so only she would hear, I said, “I have no idea what’s going on, but shit, I do know that you rock this pissed-off look. You look incredible!”

  “Thanks,” she whispered back. “I’ll tell you all about it later, but for now, let me just say, that was one fabulous spa. Do you have any idea how wonderful it is to be pampered twenty-four hours a day?” When I gave a soft giggle, it was her turn to roll her eyes and give me a squeeze. “Duh. What was I thinking? Of course you do. I mean, you were on your honeymoon after all. Was it as great as I’m imagining?”

  “Better,” I said instantly. A little embarrassed at how I’d not even hesitated in giving my enthusiastic answer, I remembered how best friends weren’t supposed to have secrets. Leaning closer, I said, “Speaking of better, I’m sure you have your own experience with exactly how good these Greek men are. Right?” When her expression remained blank, I pushed a bit more. “Come on, are you still going to pretend that a certain green-eyed Greek hasn’t helped fuel your imagination?”

  “Oh, you know me, since when have I ever stuck to any one region,” Cy said. I saw a look in her eyes that I’d never seen before she added, “Why would I when there are so many other delicious flavors on the buffet of life?”

  Chapter Three

  Cassandra

  Despite her words, I wasn’t quite buying her act. You’d have to be both blind and deaf not to realize that there had been an instant attraction between Cynthia and Baal. But evidently no steps had been made toward a relationship—at least none that I was privy to.

  Though I’d spent the majority of my honeymoon in my bed, the few times I’d come up for air, I’d given my friend a call, teasingly asking her if she missed Deo’s right-hand man, Balthazar, whom we call Baal. I just now realized how effectively she’d brushed me off every time, with a high, tinkling laugh. We would chat for a few minutes about clothes, food, our time at the castle—my ‘hottie husbands—double the pleasure, double the fun,’ as Cy like to refer to them. But, when I would try to turn the conversation to Baal, she would plead busy, apologizing that she needed to get back to work, and end our conversation.

 

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