by Juniper Hart
Deeply ingrained in their genetics was a deep distrust for others, the witch’s betrayal imprinted in their minds and passed through the generations. This made it very difficult for the Birch Mountain Alphas to find their fated mates.
Have you read the other books in the Birch Mountain Alphas series?
Shifter Scandal
Captured by the Shifter
Unleashed by the Shifter
Thank you for reading my book. Readers like you make an author’s world shine. If you’ve enjoyed this book, or any other books by Juniper Hart or another author, please don’t hesitate to review them on Amazon or Goodreads.
Every single review makes an incredible difference. The reason for this is simple: other readers trust reviews more than professional endorsements. For this reason, indie authors rely on our readers to spread the good word.
Thank you very much! I am giving you a virtual high-five!
- Juniper Hart
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About the Author
Juniper Hart is a romance writer from the Midwest, who loves telling the insta-love tales of werewolves, dragons, and other paranormal heroes. She specializes in sweet and short alpha romances that always promise a happily ever after.
Juniper resides in Miami, Florida with her husband and rambunctious blue-eyed son.
Find out more about Juniper Hart at SecretWoodsBooks.com
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BONUS CONTENT
Royal Dragons – Books One & Two
Text Copyright © 2017 by Alexis Davie
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
First printing, 2017
Publisher
Secret Woods Books
[email protected]
www.SecretWoodsBooks.com
Forbidden Mate
Royal Dragons – Book One
By: Alexis Davie
Forbidden Mate
CHAPTER ONE
Nyle’s eyes stared directly above him, tracing the swirls and vines of the detailed painting that adorned the dome ceiling. Perhaps it had been the thousandth time in his life that he had sat in that very seat and gazed at the metallic gold artwork, his mind always questioning how an artist had been able to keep such a steady hand while being so high up. Then again, maybe it wasn’t as perfect as it looked, and it only looked flawless because the painting was so high up from where he sat.
“Nylyrias, are you even listening to your father?” his mother, Asalei, called over to him. She had never been the best at masking her frustration, her tone pinched with annoyance.
With his Italian shoes still kicked up onto the Macassar ebony table, he rolled his eyes in the direction of his parents. His father sat at the head of the table, just a few seats down from Nyle.
Nyle raised a platinum white brow. “I thought it was evident that I wasn’t.”
“Don’t be a smartass, Nylyrias. This is serious,” Thalydias scorned, his eyes narrowed at his son.
“How many times have we had this talk?” Nyle retorted.
“Apparently not enough for you to comprehend the gravity of the matter,” Thalydias glared. “Son, you must stop playing these games. Staying out all night in the city, avoiding our calls, missing your appointments with the matchmaker. The fate of our kingdom is in your hands, and you're doing nothing to seal it.”
Nyle’s eyes went back up to the golden swirls on the ceiling as he mused in frustration. He had to keep a level head; the last thing he wanted to do was lash out at his ill father. His parents were making it hard, though, with their constant badgering and treating him as though he was a child. Although, he supposed for their lifespans, he was just a child; his father was one hundred-and-two, and he didn’t look a day over forty. Still, Nyle was twenty-five and didn’t need his parents dictating every move he made—or his future. His fingers drummed against the arm of his chair, his jaw clenching in a repetitive rhythm until he calmed down enough to form words.
“So, because you’re ill, I don’t have the right to meet my soulmate and fall in love?” Nyle questioned as calmly as he could, though his frustration was there.
“I’m not just ill, Nylyrias. I’m dying. You need to understand and accept that because there is no telling when my time will come and when you will have to take over. We cannot wait for you to meet a soulmate that may not come along for decades. You need to secure a union and make our bloodline look strong, my son. We have been going around in these circles for the last year, Nyle. It’s time to stop being a child and be the man I need you to be. Now, quit being selfish and start taking action for your family and your people,” Thalydias preached to him, burning holes into Nyle’s chin with his gaze as his son kept his face turned to the ceiling.
Out of growing irritation, Thalydias stood and slammed his massive hands down on the table, causing a loud bang to echo through the chamber. The loud noise made Nyle nearly fall out of his chair, catching himself with the edge of the table and sitting up straight.
“Do you understand me, Nylyrias?” his father boomed, his intense gold eyes narrowing in on his son.
With his own honey-gold eyes locked on his father’s menacing gaze, Nyle answered, “Perfectly.”
While still holding eye contact, Nyle rose from his seat and straightened the light gray suit jacket he was wearing. “As I recall, part of me acting responsibly for my family is to keep up appearances with the family company. If you excuse me, I’m going to go do just that.”
Nyle pushed in his chair before turning to walk out of the dining room. Really, he just needed an excuse to escape from their badgering.
“Don’t miss your date tonight, Nylyrias. A driver will pick you up at the office at six o’clock,” Thalydias called after his son.
Nyle offered a wave over his head to acknowledge he heard what his father said, but didn’t offer a verbal response. He pushed open the heavy door and quickly closed it behind him, a huff immediately leaving his lips. Never in his life had Nyle been so disrespectful to his father. Growing up, he thought Thalydias was god-like. A being that was all powerful, wise, and immortal. Hell, up until a year ago, Nyle had never spoken against his father or gone against his wishes. It wasn’t until Thalydias fell ill that the image was shattered, and at first, Nyle had bent over backwards to make his father happy and help him in any way he could, but then Thalydias and Asalei started trying to force him into an arranged marriage. It went against the very DNA of their kind. They had soulmates, and to marry anyone short of that… well, it just felt wrong.
He tried to force the thoughts from his mind as he made his way through the palace. Nyle’s eyes caught a glimpse of the elegant off-white swirls that covered his skin when his sleeve fell as he placed a cigarette between his lips. The markings almost looked like faded scars since they were so close to his pale skin color. Sometimes he envied the other Royal Dragons, those whose dragon forms were burgundy or gray. At least their markings looked like tattoos on their human shape. He looked like he got in some sort of freak accident at a wallpaper
factory that left him scarred with a print. Refastening his cufflink so that they didn’t show, Nyle then brought his fingers to the tip of his cigarette. With a snap, a single orange flame flickered into existence just long enough to light the cigarette.
His lungs filled with the soothing aromas, smoking an ancient blend of organic herbs his people possessed. The taste had always reminded him earl grey tea, and it smelled like frankincense with a hint of citrus. The herbal cigarettes put traditional tobacco products to shame. They were safe—yet his mother still hated when he smoked them. Asalei despised the musk it gave him.
As he dragged on the cigarette, Nyle made his way through the halls of the palace and out the front door. He flicked his ashes on the steps as his eyes landed on the single black town car parked in the driveway. A driver he recognized stood next to it.
For a moment, Nyle thought about ditching him and driving one of his own cars, yearning to get a taste of freedom for the afternoon, but his father’s words echoed in his head. A driver would be picking him up at the office at six that evening, and he would be in deep shit if he didn’t show up. Letting out a heavy sigh, Nyle walked over to the car, giving the driver a nod before climbing into the back.
His head immediately leaned against the window, watching the tall pine trees go by in a blur as the car made its way down the long and windy driveway. The Flamme estate was in the middle of a forest, forty minutes outside the city. Nyle took a deep inhale of the cigarette, desperate to calm his nerves. The last place he wanted to go was to office. It wasn’t like he did much there.
Nyle was technically the president of the La Flamme Foundation, a non-profit organization created by La Flamme Corporation. In his position as president, Nyle was meant to oversee the corporation’s donations and communication with charitable organizations. Basically, the foundation hosted events and galas as a way to network.
Nyle’s daily work had been handed off to the employees of the foundation—his title was basically honorary and gave him a way to look like a productive member of society. He made an effort to go into the offices once a week to hold up appearances, but he certainly didn’t prefer to spend his time there. It was boring, and he despised having to interact with the humans who were corporately driven and always attempting to impress him. They all seemed soulless, despite the fact his team only handled charity work.
When Nyle first took the job, he figured the people he would be forced to deal with on a semi-regular basis would be decent because they chose to work for a non-profit, but he was wrong. They were all charming, but so insincere they could have been snake oil salesmen.
Nyle busied himself by playing games on his phone while riding in the back of the car and smoking too many herbal cigarettes to kill time. He despised the drive into town, especially when he wasn’t driving himself. Eventually, the car came to a stop outside of La Flamme Corporation’s headquarters.
Trying to wipe the look of dismay from his face, Nyle stepped from the car when the driver opened the door. Before he could take a step, one of his board members came marching outside with an artificial smile plastered on his face. His offices were located on the thirtieth floor, so he had no idea how anybody knew he had arrived. His father must have called ahead.
The man’s name was Ned Colfax, but he was so phony and pretentious that Nyle took solace in calling him by anything but Ned. It amused him to watch the man try and keep his resolve, but still, Ned remained determined to kiss Nyle’s ass. Ned wasn’t a part of the foundation to better the world; he was on the board to climb up the social ladder.
Ned paced over to him, extending a hand to shake. “Mr. Flamme, it’s good to see you this afternoon. So glad you could make it in today.”
Nyle reluctantly extended his hand. Even Ned’s voice grated Nyle. It was so chipper, and there was no way that he actually spoke like that. Why did humans feel compelled to make every person around them like them? It puzzled the hell out of Nyle.
“Nice to see you as well, Ted,” Nyle said flatly, withdrawing his hand as he walked toward the building. “So, what is going on today?” he questioned, wondering if they were planning an event.
“Actually, sir, it’s Ned. But it’s okay; I know you’re a busy man,” Ned grinned, hurrying to keep stride with Nyle.
Hah. Nyle wasn’t a busy man at all, unless avoiding his parents counted as business.
“You’ve actually come on a fantastic day. We just started working with a new organization that wants to clean up polluted rivers. We’re planning a black-tie gala to raise money. We’re actually in a meeting with the event planning company we hired right now. We would be so honored for you to join us.”
Event planners? Why in the hell was there an entire team of employees at his foundation dedicated to throwing fundraisers if they weren’t even going to plan the event themselves? It made the team unnecessary middle men, just so that the company could say they hosted the event.
“Sounds great, Tom,” Nyle called back to him as he stepped into the private elevator off to the side of the lobby.
CHAPTER TWO
Daisy was awestruck by La Flamme Corporation’s headquarters. The stunning architecture and sleek interior design were unlike anything she had ever seen. Daisy swore she could see her reflection on every surface. Everyone going about their business were dressed well and looked important. It felt like she was walking around the inside of a business magazine. She couldn’t believe her aunt landed her the job; it was honestly a little overwhelming. She figured she’d plan weddings, bar mitzvahs, and possibly some sales events. She had no idea she’d be organizing an event as grand as a La Flamme Foundation fundraiser.
Daisy told herself that it was just like any other party, no different from the other events she had organized, but she was too aware of that being a lie. She had never been surrounded by such an elite group, knowing everyone at that conference table had to be worth millions of dollars, if not more. The board members of the foundation were top-ranking executives from large international companies. Even the employees of the foundation seemed as if they were in the upper echelons of society. The amount of money they would raise at the event would be astronomical. Daisy couldn’t even wrap her mind around it.
In that moment, her biggest challenge was trying not to look out of place. She certainly looked the part, wearing a black and white sheath dress and heels. Her Aunt Chanel bought her a few nice outfits to wear for the job to make her comfortable, as well as serve as a congratulatory gift. While it helped, she felt almost like they could smell ‘middle-class’ on her. It wasn’t like Daisy was ashamed of her position in life; she was doing well for herself, even if she wasn’t a millionaire. However, she felt like a fish in a shark tank.
With that thought, her eyes shifted to Wren and Trey, curious to know if they were having the same thoughts, but they looked comfortable, calm, and collected. Wren was her manager, there to oversee the project since it was such an enormous contract, and Trey was her coworker.
“We would like the event to take place at a venue that is used to hosting extravagant galas, as our guests are used to the finer things in life. We want them to be comfortable and impressed. And of course, money isn’t an issue. We want to do this to the best of our abilities. The founder of the river clean-up non-profit is a good friend of the company,” a man near the head of the table explained, pulling Daisy back to reality.
She quickly jotted down what he said in her notebook. Her mind hadn’t actually processed it until the words were staring back at her from the page. Daisy noted everything that the businessmen called out: specifications about the location, the decorations, table layouts, catering, guest list, and on and on. Her team had to get every single detail right, or else they were going to be on the chopping block. There was no way they could keep their jobs if they disappointed a client as big as La Flamme Corporation.
Daisy started getting a hand cramp from her active notetaking and had to put her pen down for a second to massage her hand. As she ru
bbed the space between her thumb and index finger, Daisy looked up to the men, trying to listen for any significant details. Just as she picked up her pen again, she noticed one of the men reaching for his phone. His eyes widened, turning quickly to the man speaking. The man stopped talking, taking a moment to listen to the other man’s whispers.
Turning back to Daisy and her team, the man cleared his throat. “I’m sorry about that. There will be a couple of others joining us shortly. Just to inform you, one is—”
The door to the room opened, and in walked a man with slicked back raven hair and a rather forced expression. Directly behind him followed another man, one with snowy white hair and a young, chiseled face. His cheekbones and jaw were dramatic and angular, which Daisy could notice from the other side of the room. The white-haired man was pale, though he practically looked tan in contrast to his hair color, having a slight golden hue to his skin. Nothing stood out more than his golden-brown eyes. Could they even be considered brown? Their color was rich in yellow, looking just like honey. His gaze was intense as he looked at the faces of the businessmen, all of them straightening their posture and putting on pleasant expressions for him.
The white-haired man radiated an aura that was palpable, leaving Daisy breathless. Even if it hadn’t been for the behavior of the other executives, she would have been able to sense he was powerful. It was astonishing coming from someone who looked just a few years older than her.
And then his gaze fell on Daisy. His golden hues burned through her like hot pokers, and she resisted the urge to squirm in her chair. He paused the instant their eyes locked, staring at her more intently than anyone ever had. Suddenly, the aura he was putting off felt more like magnetism, like the two halves of the room were going to fold into one another, just so they would be side by side. The room was silent for what felt like hours to Daisy, but it had only been a couple seconds. Then, his lips flickered into a small smirk, and he moved to sit at the head of the table. As soon as he sat, the whole room seemed to breathe. The men went back to discussing the gala.
