by Toni Aleo
Table of Contents
Title Page
The Patchwork Series
About Broken Pieces
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
A note from Toni Aleo
More books from Toni Aleo
Copyright Notice
The Patchwork Series
Pieces
Broken Pieces
Pieced Together (Coming Soon)
The rules of The Works have remained unchanged for centuries. There is to be no romantic mixing between any of the five supernatural clans.
But from the moment Oceanus von Stein, second-in-command to the Patchwork family, caught sight of Taegan Conner, daughter of the leader of the Wolves, he knew he would never love anyone else.
Only now, Taegan has been promised in marriage to another, an arrangement to strengthen her family’s alliances—and she gets no say in the matter.
Neither does Oceanus.
While they both know they have their places and responsibilities in their clans, their love is too strong. How can they let go of what they have? Though it is forbidden, Oceanus and Taegan won’t stop until they can have each other. The only problem is that the world is against them, and Oceanus has a threat to his sister’s life to vanquish.
Can they find a way to be together, or will they both always be two Broken Pieces?
Being the oldest isn’t always easy.
Everyone depends on you.
Looks up to you.
You are the poster child for the family.
Plus, you worry about everything.
Well, at least, I do.
Which means being selfish isn’t possible. Maybe not selfish—that word is harsh and I’ve never really liked it, but something along those lines. What I mean is that my needs, my wants are not important when I have three younger siblings and a father to worry for.
You see, I’m a very busy man. I have many jobs. The first and most important being to protect and love my family. With everything inside of me. It is my job to guide my brothers and sister in the right direction to be future leaders of our community. The community my family runs. A community that is unseen to the human eye, which is fine by me. Dealing with witches, wolves, shifters, and vampires, along with the Patchwork citizens is enough in my opinion. They cause enough drama for one man, yet I love them. I want to protect them.
They are my extended family.
Even if a faction of our Works—the shifters—wants to overthrow my family and take over, I still care for their well-being. I have to. It’s my job as a future leader of the Works. When my father decides to step down, which could be at any moment, it will be my job to step up and be the king this community needs. Not that my father isn’t doing his job; he is. It’s just…he’s old-school. Very old-school, and while all his parts are working at their full capacity, he isn’t the man he used to be. So much has changed. This isn’t the 1800s anymore, but my father apparently missed that memo. He’s budged a bit, adapted some, but he still has the same notions he had back then, and they drive me absolutely mad.
Beyond furious, actually.
But what do I expect? He lived in a time where a man was always right and you followed your father, your leader. After he lost his father to the plague, he became the leader and led his family. I don’t think my father meant for his life to go where it did, but it all changed when he found his grandfather’s old lab books.
That grandfather was Dr. Frankenstein.
The guy who made Frankenstein’s monster himself. Yes, the stories are true. But what the stories don’t tell you is that he had a son, who had four more sons, my father being one of them. With Father’s grandfather gone, and then his own father dying, I doubt anyone expected for Dr. Frankenstein’s work ever to surface again. But my father was and may be smarter than his ancestors. For when he found the books, he became obsessed with them, and soon he developed a formula that granted a man immortality.
True immortality.
He soon administrated the formula to his brother, Samuel. But after their mother and two other brothers died when the formula didn’t work on them, Samuel and Father were discovered. So, of course, they fled. They had no choice. But they did have a choice when they decided to come to America and make their own clan.
A clan full of immortal people who would follow and bow down to them. Or, really, to my father. I doubt Samuel had much say in it, but my father, yeah, he was drunk with the power he had. He knew he was the best, a god in his mind, and people flocked to him. They begged for the formula, needed it, and soon my father had his clan.
His Patchwork.
You would think that would be enough, but it wasn’t. Soon he reached out to the other supernatural groups. The vampires were first. The main reason was the simple fact that my uncle loved to sleep with them. The vampires didn’t need anything from my father, but he offered them an alliance, a way to get them constant blood since he had turned the owner of the local hospital immortal. As long as the vampires followed my father, he would be there to help them. As creatures of the night, and being killed off almost every other night by hunters and humans, they signed on quickly.
Next were the witches. My father promised to export and import anything they needed or wanted on his fleet of ships. In return, he would use their spells and rituals for things he was unable to fix.
The wolves signed on for the money. My father needed lots of guards and security support, and he paid very heavily for them. At first, it was just employment. But somewhere in there, my father worked out some kind of alliance. It’s beyond me, but he did it, and now they are basically eating out of his hand.
No pun intended.
The shifters are a whole other story. The resisted us, only coming to us with offers for the formula itself. Father denied them, of course, but he did ask them to join us. He offered that we would protect them and even employ some of them. He wanted to make our community complete with the five strongest clans of supernatural beings. But the shifters didn’t want any part; they were independent. That was, until people started dying and they needed the protection my father offered since no one could catch who was killing off their clan. I believe my father had a part in it, that he hired people to kill them, but he denies it.
Either way, my father got his underground clan, and soon, the rules were in place.
Do what your clan is expected to do. All of us have a particular job to keep the Works running. The guard support the wolves offer—along with their construction work. The spells and treatments the witches provide. The political connections the vampires play a part in. And we can’t forget the connections on Wall Street that the shifters give us. It’s simple, really. Everyone plays their part and reports back to Father. Well, the clan leaders do, at least.
Another rule is paying your taxes. For obvious reasons, if my father is protecting your group, curing diseases, providing good housing, and everything else he does, the least you can do is pay the monthly tax.
Lastly, don’t mix clans. Father wants to keep the purest of bloodlines, to make the future children of the Works the strongest and best—my father’s words, not mine. Now, that is the rule that gets broken the most. Mostly by my uncle Samuel and his obsession with vampires. But even with his lust for the creatures, he has never fathered a child, mostly because vampires c
an’t have children. That isn’t the case for other clans, though. And when it happens, I mean, when a mixed-clan child is conceived, it isn’t long after birth that the child is killed.
That sickens me and will be one of the first things I change when I am the leader of the Works.
I just have to get there.
“You’re thinking way too hard for someone who just woke up.”
I smile, my heart filling with such unadulterated tenderness for the wide blue eyes that soon trap me in their gaze. A grin pulls at my sweetheart’s lips, her long, flowing strawberry-blond hair falling every so delicately along her jaw and onto my chest as she traces the scar on my stomach.
“I thought you were sleeping,” I whisper, my lips pressing against hers as my hands grasp the thick globes of her ass. Holding her tight against my side, I kiss her. Softly, ever so slowly, memorizing every single thing about her lips and the way they make me feel.
Perfection. Pure perfection.
When she pulls back, her eyes darken a bit as she throws her leg across me, straddling me as her nails bite into my chest. “I’m not sleeping,” she says, her cheeks dusting with color as I drink in the gorgeous freckles along her body. She is covered head to toe in them, and I swear, I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my days tracing each of them with my tongue, my fingers, anything. As long as I’m touching her.
My love.
As she moves her hot center against my growing erection, I smile. “I can see that.” My hand comes up to cup her full breast. “Whatever are you doing up there?”
She scoffs, her wet core making every single thought from before disappear within seconds. “If you have to ask, I worry for ya,” she jokes, and I smile, my eyes falling shut a bit. Her voice, her thick Scottish brogue, does the dirtiest things to my body. Turns me on to the point of no return.
“I thought you had to leave?”
“I think I have a wee bit of time. Maybe we can spend it?”
Bringing her down by a hand at the back of her neck, I kiss her jaw as her breasts press into my chest. “I know we can,” I say before rolling her over, my body pressing into hers as I push her legs back into her chest and enter her quickly. She is hot, accepting me and squeezing me, making me breathless as I stare down into her beautiful, flushed face.
She stuns me, and I just look at her, my lips curving as my cock throbs inside of her, begging for release. But I can’t move. Not when she is looking at me like that. She reaches up, a grin pulling at her lips as she runs her thumb down my jaw.
“Gonna stare at me, my love? Or fuck me?”
“Stare,” I say simply, my body heavy against her legs. “I swear I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as you.”
Her grin grows, her body flushing even more, and my heart explodes in my chest. Cupping my face with her other hand, she threads her fingers through my hair. My body breaks out in gooseflesh as she holds my gaze. When she looks at me, I know she doesn’t see the scars or the wounded flesh, the cut marks or the gunshot wounds. She sees me, her lover.
Because that’s all I can ever be.
“I love you, Oceanus,” she whispers, her eyes so dark, so full of lust, and of course, love. Fuck, I love it when she says those words. Those three words that are ever so beautiful—but more tragic than one could think. Well, that is until I take over the Works. The moment that happens, which pray God is soon, I will marry my love. I will make her mine, I will put my child in her, and together we will lead the Works.
She will be my queen.
I don’t care that she is Taegan Conner, the princess of the wolves, because I don’t see her faction or even her family name.
I see her heart.
And it’s mine.
All mine.
Moving her hair out of her eyes, I kiss her nose before sliding mine against it. “I love you too, my love.”
When her mouth captures mine, I lift her up, holding her ass in my hands as I fall back on my haunches, thrusting up into her. Her breath is harsh against my mouth, her breasts heavy against my chest, and as I drive into her, I don’t care about anything but her and me.
I’m being selfish.
I’m taking what I want.
And I don’t care one bit.
It doesn’t happen enough in my opinion, but I guess, being me, I don’t get that luxury.
Truth be told, being Oceanus von Stein isn’t easy.
But it’s who I am. And while I lose myself inside of this beautiful woman, I don’t think of anything but her, and that’s okay for now.
Eventually, I’ll be able to do it for the rest of my days.
I just have to be patient.
Because my time is coming.
“Colin is coming home.”
As I wrap a piece of Taegan’s hair around my finger, I smile. Not because her brother is coming home—I’m not worried about that snot-nosed brat who hooked up my sister many times—I smile because Taegan is so beautiful. Her face is flushed, her body still radiating so much heat from our lovemaking. It’s always like that with her. Only her. But then, she runs hot all the time.
“Why is that?”
I ask only because my father sent him away a long time ago, and I thought I’d never see him again. When Father sends someone away, it’s usually a forever kind of thing. Colin was getting too close to my little sister, and since mixing the clans is so forbidden, the poor kid had a one-way ticket to Ireland. That happens a lot when Father feels things are out of his control. They claimed Colin’s own father had sent him to care for his grandmother, but I know the truth.
“He’s met his betrothed, is madly in love with her, and they’re set to marry by the year’s end,” she says simply, her leg hooking across my midsection. Taking a chunk of her thigh in my hand, I cuddle her closer. “My da talked to your da, and he agreed.”
“Surprising.”
“That’s what I said,” she says on a small chuckle, snuggling her face into my neck. I close my eyes, leaning my head into hers as her fingers trace along my chest and my nipple.
“I thought you had to go?” I ask, not that I want her to go, but I also don’t want her to get in trouble. She had a family thing to go to. Maybe Colin’s homecoming. “What are you going for, by the way?”
Looking up at me, she pinches my jaw, a sneaky grin turning up her lips. “Jealous?”
“No.” Squeezing her thigh tightly, I growl against her lips. “You’re mine.”
Giggling, she gives me a quick kiss that kick-starts my heart. “As you are mine.”
“Exactly. So where you going?”
“Do you not listen to me? Colin is coming home.”
I nod, my nose moving against her cheek. “Ah. Wish him well for me.”
“I will,” she whispers. “I think he’ll go see Rebekah as soon as he can.”
My brows come together. “I thought he was in love with another.”
“He is.”
“Then why would he see my sister?”
Tipping her head back, her eyes meet mine, so bright and shiny. I love them. I love everything about her. Her little fairy nose, her soft features. She isn’t like her siblings, who have hard lines to their faces. She’s by far the most gorgeous out of her two other sisters. She looks more feminine, while they favor her father, looking a bit rough. More wolflike, I guess.
But not my sweet Taegan.
No, she looks like my queen.
“Don’t ya know?” she asks, and my lips quirk.
“Know what, my love?”
“That once you go von Stein, there is no going back?”
When she pauses, her lips curving, I can’t help it, I laugh. Hard. I shake the bed with my laughter, and her body shakes against me. She completes me, my love does, and I really don’t know how I went as long as I did without her.
I mean, it was just sixteen years of my life before I met her, and another five before she was mine, but it felt like a lifetime. As silly as it sounds, I always swore she’d be mine. I remembe
r whispering to my brother Jonas that I wanted her and I would have her. But, no, Taegan Conner didn’t want anything to do with me. She was the master of hard to get. She resisted me all through school. Ignored me. Found me an annoyance. I don’t know why, but it turned me on more than I can describe. It soon became my life’s mission to get her to want me, to love her, and to be loved by her.
But when we finished school, she left. Went home to Scotland, and I didn’t see her for three years. I thought about her constantly. Missed her. Though, I assumed she never thought of me; I learned later I was wrong. I thought she was gone forever. Then word got to me that Taegan Conner was coming home, and there was to be a traditional homecoming for her since she is the firstborn of her family. I decided I had to go. Thankfully, my father had decided to send me as an ambassador for our family.
I remember how nervous I was to see her. I had changed, for obvious reasons. New arms, one new leg, and a few scars on my face from battling with my brothers. I knew I didn’t look the same—not that I thought she found me to be attractive before—but what if she didn’t recognize me? That all changed when she came down the stairs into the huge ballroom of the Conners’ estate. To this day, four years later, I still remember every detail of that moment.
The Conners are very traditional and proud people. They are also very skilled hunters, which is a given, I guess. But even with being in New York, when at a festival or homecoming, everyone always wears their last kill. I knew of this tradition, thought it was quite cool. Seeing some of the other pack leaders in their kills was amazing, especially when the outsiders like me and the ambassadors of the other clans wore only our best suits, looking completely out of place. It was intriguing to me. I loved it.
But I’ll never forget watching Taegan, the only girl I knew I could ever love, come down the stairs in her kill.
She wore a stark white dress that not only hugged every single one of her curves but made her skin glow in the dimly lit room. The dress sparkled; it was stunning, made of diamonds and lace. It was the only thing I could see, and I admired it greatly…that is until the huge, thick, brown pelt that hung off her shoulders caught my eye. I was speechless, completely taken aback by how much fur it was. But then, Taegan came into view. Her bright blue eyes sparkled, and her strawberry-blond hair was in waves along the fur. Her face was made up dramatically, not like how I usually see her now, so clean and soft. No, she looked like the leader of a pack, and then I saw the huge bear head with its mouth open, perched on her head.
