Mick (The A'rouk Brothers Book 1)

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Mick (The A'rouk Brothers Book 1) Page 1

by Serena Simpson




  Table of Contents

  Mick

  Acknowledgements

  Copyright

  Other Books by the Author

  Reviews and where to find me

  Prologue

  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

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Epilogue

  Want more of these characters?

  Connect with me

  Mick

  The A’rouk Brothers

  Book One

  By

  Serena Simpson

  Acknowledgements

  I want to thank my daughter for being there in the ups and downs of my life as well as the writing of this book. I want to thank Keriann, my editor whose faith in me humbles me.

  I also want to thank my fans you waited a long time for this book to come out, I am humbled that you want to read it. I thank each and every one of you for loving the original series Love Me Harder and the encouragement you have given me as I wrote the first book in the spin-off series. You are the best fans ever!

  Copyright

  Mick – The A’rouk Brothers, Book One - Copyright © September 2016, Serena Simpson

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  Cover Art by OriginalSyn

  Edited by Keriann Mckenna

  Published by Serena Simpson

  Other Books by the Author

  Love Me Harder Series

  Aran Book 1

  Niko Book 2

  Sergey Book 3

  Nicolas Book 4

  Hale Book 5

  Alexei Book 6

  Ash Book 7

  Alien Mates Series

  Soul-Bonded to the alien Book 1

  Rylan’s Heart Book 2

  Gabe’s Destiny Book 3

  Colun’s Passion Book 4

  Dragon Mates Series

  Alexa’s Dragon Book 1

  Shifters on the run

  Tane’s Mate Book 1

  Reviews and where to find me

  Once you’ve read Mick, I hope you will take a few minutes to leave me a review. Amazon love’s reviews so the more you leave, the more they eat it up.

  You can find me on my website.

  I’m also available on Twitter @serena789books

  You can also find me on Facebook

  Look for me I’m happy to connect with all.

  Prologue

  Change. Dante spent centuries both anticipating and dreading this day. With a wave of his hand, the red-haired woman entered his vision. She tossed and turned in a bed as she dreamed of Mick and the brief glance she had of him before he was pulled away and chained. The dream was of her first encounter with him. It was highly unlikely, no, impossible, but in those minutes she felt her life shift, she wanted him.

  “No,” Jaz whimpered holding out her hand to him. She needed him and didn’t even know why. “Please,” the word escaped her lips in the midst of her tortured dreams.

  She kicked the covers as she remembered the blue of his eyes. The expanse of his muscles. Everything about him called to her, made her want to give up and simply settle in his arms.

  “No!” her mind protested loudly. “That’s not who we are. It’s not what we are. We were made to die, and that’s what we will do.”

  She flipped in her bed and fought with the covers as if they were trying to choke her to death before she finally kicked them to the floor. A deep breath escaped her like she just won a battle.

  “Clone,” she heard the word and shook her head. She was a clone, made for nothing more than harvesting—a fancy word that meant they would kill her. Maybe her organs would go to help the Original survive, or maybe she would just burn. When you were dead, it didn’t matter.

  “Jaz, deadlines are meant to be broken. Rules are meant to be smashed. In fact, I’m about to smash one that is thousands of years old. Let’s hope we live to enjoy the fallout.”

  She stopped struggling. Dante’s words had haunted her for days, now they gave her peace. Indeed, let’s hope we live to enjoy the fallout.

  She fell into a peaceful slumber as once again she dreamed of the male with the bright blue eyes. “Mick,” his name came softly on a sigh of pleasure. He was pulling her into his arms and whispering words of forever.

  She was not what he anticipated, but then again how was he supposed to anticipate his brother’s mate.

  The image of the woman disappeared with a wave of Dante’s hand as Mick, his brother, came into view with a wave of his other hand.

  Mick’s body convulsed as he stubbornly refused to cry out. The male behind him beat him although there was not a mark on his body. The Darkness was more insidious than that. It beat him, tortured him mentally, yet he was still enduring. Soon, the whip would come out signaling the beginning of the end.

  The Darkness. Dante bared his fangs and growled for a minute. It was the one thing that plagued him and his brothers constantly waiting for them to make a mistake. Waiting for one of them to find their mate. That was their weakness, and it waited for them to meet the one female who would call to them. Then with glee, The Darkness would destroy them one at a time. Mick should have been safely in the chains Dante put him in, but his brother was stubborn and he traded his life for that of his mate.

  Mick stood chained on the planet Sylica—the hell planet. Around him stood the Army of Darkness waiting for the moment he would give in. At his feet were the fires of hell burning him repeatedly. His body would heal, and the fires would burn him again. The executioner stood behind him.

  “She belongs to us and so do you.” The male with the whip spoke before he brought it down to his back again.

  Mick said nothing. To acknowledge them in any way may mean placing her in jeopardy. Her, Jaz—his mate. The female he only saw briefly before his brother had him dragged off and placed in chains. He felt the whip across his back again, but he was too preoccupied with exploring her lovely body to pay much attention to it.

  He thought of her looking up at him. Green eyes the color of the dewy grass in the morning giving him a look of pleasure for something he had done. He bent over and kissed her neck needing to simply get a small taste of her sweetness. He imagined her soft voice in his ear or her hand on his arm.

  She was so small and petite compared to him. Not even six foot he bet. He trembled at the thought of her arms holding him tight. The executioner laughed thinking he was brea
king him.

  Mick would never break. They may kill his body, own his soul, but they would never have his mate because he wouldn’t give her up.

  “No more,” Dante growled. He would no longer stand there and be a silent spectator to the agony his brother was suffering. “It ends now.”

  Mick looked up and smiled. It was gritty and bloody, but he didn’t care as his brother walked through the fires of hell. They dared not touch him; his clothes looked as fresh as when he dressed this morning.

  The minions of Darkness complained, protested that Dante didn’t belong there. Mick was now theirs to torture however they chose. The executioner dropped the whip and stood back. Smart male. Everyone knew they could die. Yes, the setting was Mick’s mind but what happened here was real, and if they died here, their death would be final.

  “You can’t come here.” The words came out warped as if the tongue belonged to a serpent and not a man. The male speaking was a minion of The Darkness acting on its behalf.

  Dante stopped and looked around at those gathered.

  “Would you like to stop me?” Dante’s voice was whisper soft and all the deadlier for it.

  “Killer.” The word traveled through the Army of Darkness on an air of its own. It was said reverently, fearfully.

  Mick would have laughed if he wasn’t feeling the full effects of the pain trying to kill him. He was on a planet occupied by the most notorious killers in the galaxy, and each one of them was scared of his brother who stood by his side.

  “Your time is up. Mick is still sane and whole.”

  A roar went up; they would not release him.

  “Dante,” Mick whispered, not wanting anything to happen to his brother. He knew this day was coming when he laid his eyes on his mate. He would not have Dante forfeit his life so he could live.

  “Don’t ruin my fun, Mick, I get so little of it.”

  He closed his mouth because his brother was right; he had too many responsibilities and very little time for fun in his life.

  One brave soul—the executioner—stood up. “If your brother leaves here alive The Darkness will require my soul.”

  He raised his whip—the soul killer—the one he used to end lives for centuries and brought it down over Dante’s back because he stepped between his brother and the whip.

  The crowd gasped as one as they waited for him to hit the ground, no one survived the soul killer. The whip wrapped itself around his body allowing Dante to get a firm grip on it. He pulled the executioner to him until the male couldn’t move.

  “You should have feared me more.” He reached out, and the male died. The crowd retreated, eyes wide in disbelief.

  He went to his brother and unchained him, whispering in his ear. “You will remember I came for you, but that is all you will remember.”

  Mick nodded once before his unconscious body fell into his brother’s arms.

  Centuries of planning may not have been enough.

  Chapter One

  “Jaz, are you up? Breakfast is on.” Brook’s voice echoed up the stairwell giving Jaz a feeling of calmness. Knowing her sister was there for her made each day a little easier.

  Brook was born several hundred years ago and placed in cryo because she had a rare genetic disorder that didn’t have a cure. Her parents traded their lives for her so she might have a chance to live. Jaz was the clone who was ordered to bring her out of cryo. Now Brook was the friend she never had.

  Things changed for them when Brook almost died; the Patron singled her out for death and sent his assassins after her. He is one of the biggest thieves in the history of their new world, stealing what he wanted and killing anyone who defied him. Most considered him to be a benefactor who helped the poor, but those whose lives he touched knew better. He almost succeeded in killing Brook. Jaz used every medical skill she gained over her lifetime to save Brook, and from that day forward they became sisters of the heart.

  “I’m up. I’ll be down in a minute.”

  She took a look at herself in the mirror. No one was going to give her any awards for beauty. Most days she barely registered how she looked. Clones weren’t supposed to take pride in their reflections. They were made to be the most optimal version of the Original. The Original being the genetic stock from which she was cloned. While she never took pride in her looks, she did try to look decent when she walked out to meet others.

  There were bags under her eyes, and her body was gaunt even though Brook tried to stuff her with food. The last couple of weeks had taken its toll on her, and it was only in her dreams that she experienced occasional relief. She quickly ran a comb through her red hair and opened the door, taking the back stairwell down. It was closer to the kitchen.

  “Ash made us a big breakfast today.” Brook’s smile was fake. She was worried and trying not to show it.

  Jaz eyed the food knowing she wouldn’t be eating. Today was the day her handlers would come. They would stand before her and demand that she turn herself over. That she go willingly to a death she didn’t deserve.

  She walked all the way into the kitchen and sat at the island. The walls were painted a sky blue. Brook had a thing for blue; it was the color that went first when she started going blind. Not being able to see the sky had killed her a little more inside each day. Now there were random bits of blue all over her house.

  The kitchen was retro though Brook told Jaz to her it was ultra-modern. Brook’s mate, Ash, was one of the Created that lived on the earth. The Created were a group of aliens that came from a different planet to make Earth home. Ash could be mistaken for a human if you ignored his height and the muscles he sported along with his red eyes. According to him, what you saw on the outside was nothing compared to what was on the inside. One of the things that was different was Ash couldn’t eat synthetic food. It was all the rage right now. According to the nutritionists, it was super healthy, good for the body, didn’t pack on extra unwanted calories so you could eat as much of it as you wanted. It also had the added benefit of coming from the food processors totally cooked so you didn’t have to learn that useless skill.

  Ash cooked from scratch, which was why he had this retro kitchen. Jaz had to admit nothing coming out of a processor could stand up to the dishes he made using real ingredients. If she wasn’t about to die, she’d be stuffing her face this very moment. The thought of looming death was enough to destroy her appetite.

  “Jaz,” Brook said softly. She could hear the tears she was holding back in her voice. If she broke down, so would Jaz.

  “Please, Brook, I can’t eat anything right now. I just want to sit here with you and Ash while you eat.”

  Brook nodded and went to give her a brief hug before she sat back down. Ash came over to sit by his mate although neither ate; they just pushed the food around on their plates.

  Jaz was pretending this was a normal day. That there would be lunch and dinner and Brook would put her hand on her hip and lecture Jaz to eat like she was a child. She was pretending she would go to sleep tonight and wake up tomorrow.

  A scream caught in her throat, but she swallowed it down because she wouldn’t wake up tomorrow. Today was her last day alive. She should be running but she knew the truth, there was a tracker embedded in her bone. One that even modern technology couldn’t remove. There was nowhere to go.

  She looked up to see silent tears trickling down Brook’s face. Well, hell…that said it all.

  *~*~*~*

  When Mick opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was the yellow walls. Then it dawned on him he was no longer chained. He tried to move, and his body caught fire. He felt around for obvious bruising and found none, but tell that to his back which disagreed. Pain shot up his back like the executioner had taken stakes and hammered them down his spine, smashing each bone into a thousand pieces. Every move he made increased the pain. He turned his head to the left not sure living was worth the pain he was enduring. His brother was standing there; he could hear the faint sound of his breathing.
r />   “I can hear you.”

  “I want you to hear me,” Damon replied.

  They were killers, each of the six brothers. Bred to kill right down to their DNA, they never forgot what they were. After coming to Earth and finding it to be such a soft planet they could have relaxed, let down their guard, but they chose not to. Those instincts were what kept them alive over the centuries.

  “What am I doing in here?” Mick was in Damon’s house in his medical wing. Just a look at the walls was all he needed to know that. Damon copied this wing from the design of the spaceship they came over in; the only thing he changed was the color of the walls. Damon had never understood why the walls had to be white if you were sick.

  “You should be grateful you’re here.”

  He was right, Mick should be grateful, but it didn’t answer his question. He stared at Damon saying nothing until Damon sighed a signal that he was going to give in.

  “Dante brought you here. He said you passed the first test, but there were many more to come. What do you remember?”

  “I was on the hell planet. The fire…” His eyes clouded as the vivid memory of being burned over and over again made his legs ache. He sat up to examine them. They were fine, but the pain in them still lingered.

  “They beat me, Damon. There was an executioner, he was determined to end my life and steal my soul.” Mick’s voice was low, the anguish of what he went through there too horrifying for anyone to hear.

  Damon reached down and grabbed his shoulder before he finally pulled him into a hug and held on tight. He could have lost his brother.

  “They wanted me to give her to them.” His voice was stark when those words came out.

 

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