Shifter Fated Mates: Boxed Set

by Mandy M. Roth

  “Navid, come back here.” Falke leaned forward to sniff her. His eyes dipped over her attire. At great length, he nodded. “My brother has chosen her as his woman. Take her and have her prepared for him, then deliver her to Prince Kirill’s chambers.”

  He was Kirill’s brother? Ulyssa thought with a brief wave of panic. Oh, hell, I’ve really done it now! Great going, Ulyssa!

  “That won’t be necessary,” Ulyssa began weakly, swallowing down her nerves. She glanced over her shoulder at Navid. His thick arms were crossed over his chest, as he waited for her to comply with the Prince Falke’s order. Turning back to the Commander, she shook her head. “I...”

  Ulyssa did the only thing she could think of, she took off running. Passing the smaller Navid, she hooked him across his throat with her outstretched arm. The man fell back. With lightening speed, Falke was on her, pouncing from behind and tackling her to the ground. Her face slammed into the hard stone floor, jarring her near senseless at the impact. A light moan escaped her lips.

  “If my brother wants you, he will have you. You wear his clothing and you have his smell,” Falke said, unaffected by her escape attempt. She tried to struggle at his words, but his one hand held her pinned to the floor. An unforgiving knee pressed into her lower back, stifling her breath. She gasped just to stay conscious. “On your way, Navid. I’ll handle her. She better speak the truth for, if she lies, she’ll bear the King’s wrath.”

  Navid bowed and left, glaring at her as he did so. Ulyssa knew he didn’t take kindly to being out-maneuvered by a woman in front of his boss. She didn’t care. It was his fault for thinking she’d be a complying female who’d follow orders.

  Falke hauled her up from the ground with a swift leap into the air. Ulyssa stumbled while he landed effortlessly on his feet. Without another word, the muscular Prince tossed her over his shoulder and sprinted down the hall. It was all she could do to hold on.

  * * * *

  Kirill’s coronation was short, just like all of the Var ceremonies. They found no reason to draw out the legalities of an event and turned right to the celebration. As the Preost spoke, his eyes had scanned over the crowd. Most persons within the royal palace were present and made to swear allegiance to the new King. The banquet hall was packed full, but Ulyssa wasn’t there. He wondered why he felt disappointment in her absence. He wondered why he thought of her at all.

  The banquet hall was a splendid affair with a high domed ceiling of glass that let in the diffused light of the three suns. Music poured from stringed instruments, playing the traditional songs of his people. Flowers swept over the walls in long garlands, their fragrance sweetening the hall.

  Dancers from Attor’s harem weaved about the tables, entertaining the men with their seductive movement. Silk and gauze clung to their bodies, flowing like ocean waves from their tight flesh. Kirill watched their movements in distraction.

  He was now responsible for every soul in the hall before him, and many more souls beyond the palace walls in the Var city, and more still beyond that. It was a heavy burden. From that moment on, every Var life was dependent on him. Every mouth that needed to be fed would be his to feed. Every wrongful death would be his to avenge. Every quarrel, no matter how small, would be his to decide. It was a difficult responsibility, but one he must bear alone.

  Kirill’s stomach knotted to think about it. There would be no one to shoulder the burden of his centuries of reign. His brothers would help, but they could never understand. He only wished he’d been more prepared for his father’s death, but none had expected the indestructible Attor to fall.

  Looking around the hall, Kirill was glad that most of his father’s women had chosen mates. Once a decision was made, the Var found no reason to wait. They’d be leaving the palace that night after a quick mass marriage ceremony.

  Kirill’s attention was caught by one of the guards, who came to bow before him. Behind the man was a line of attractive women. Kirill hid his slight smile. A woman to warm his bed and temper the fire in his loins was just what he needed to relax and momentarily forget his burden. Regally, he nodded at the guard, who then motioned the women forward. One by one, the lovely creatures bowed before him. First, a red head with bright green eyes caught his notice, followed by a mystical temptress with hair as dark as deep space. Her gaze sparkled with mischief.

  Kirill debated between the two, eyeing their displayed breasts and the curve of their hips. When choosing a lover, he knew he didn’t have to look beyond those few simple things. For a moment, he considered taking both. With the stress he’d been under lately, he wasn’t sure he could properly pleasure both of them at once. In the end, he chose the dark temptress.

  With a lift of his hand, he motioned her forward. The woman smiled, coming closer to him. Without hesitation, Kirill asked, “You haven’t been with the late King?”

  “No, my lord,” the woman answered meekly.

  Kirill nodded, pleased with her sultry voice. She would do well to fulfill his body’s needs. “You wish to be with me in my bed?”

  “Yes, my King.” There was no hesitation in her answer. Her lips stayed parted and she shot him a look of pure invitation.

  “Very well. The rest may go,” Kirill said.

  The women bowed, their disappointment evident. It was a great honor to be chosen as the King’s lover and if a woman could please him enough to be made a mistress, well that position was almost as grand as being a wife. However, all knew that the Var Kings did not usually share their power with a Queen.

  “Your name?” Kirill asked of the woman.

  “Linzi, my lord,” she murmured. Her eyes dipped boldly over his form.

  Kirill saw her attraction to him, an attraction she didn’t try to hide. Instantly, another set of eyes flashed in his mind—eyes of entrancing dark blue. He scanned the hall, looking for red-blonde hair, hair that would stand out in a crowd. His body lurched, wanting Ulyssa. Her scent was still in his head. Remembering the sound of her voice drummed fire into his veins. Her allure to him was potent, more potent than any other had been.

  “My lord?” Linzi asked, looking over her shoulder at the crowd to see what he stared at.

  Kirill’s attention focused once more at the sound of her voice. He sighed, hiding his disappointment in not seeing Ulyssa. She was probably long gone by now. It was just as well. He didn’t need the kind of distraction a woman could become, especially right now as he fitted himself in the role of a King.

  Slowly, he stood from the throne chair that commanded the hall. The milling crowd parted to let him through, eyes turned to him in respect. The exotic dancers spun out of his way and bowed low as he moved passed. Linzi followed meekly behind him without having to be commanded.

  Once they were out of the hall, Kirill turned and gave the woman a smile. He held out his arm for her to take. She did without hesitation. There was no shyness in her as she looked at him. She knew well what he wanted from her. There was no modesty in sexual things for the Var. Sex was as natural as breathing. Although Linzi was not Var by blood, she, like so many others, had adopted the Var ways as her own.

  Gently, the King said, “Come, Linzi. Let us go to bed.”

  * * * *

  Ulyssa’s nostrils flared in anger as she struggled against her bonds. That oaf Falke had tied her to Kirill’s bed like some sort of coronation present. Her wrists were bound over her head and her legs were loosely tied to the bottom posts, conveniently keeping them open. She’d actually been surprised when he didn’t tie a big, red bow over her breasts. The nerves of these men, thinking they could just do as they please with a woman wherever and however they wanted!

  Ulyssa wasn’t sure what made her angrier—the fact that she was tied to the bed, or the fact that Falke made her put on a dress. She grimaced looking down at the skimpy ensemble. Barely two pieces of transparent material, the black and silver dress had a short front piece and a longer back piece, held together by side cross straps that ran over her naked hip and sides, finall
y to loop over one shoulder. With a pull of either strap, the dress would come completely off. Ulyssa knew it was probably the exact function the Var had in mind when they designed the awful thing.

  Hearing a noise, Ulyssa froze. A door closed and a small sound came from the other side of the bedroom door. Tensing, she glared toward the sound, pulling hard at her restraints in a renewed effort to be free. There was a crash followed by a very feminine giggle. Suddenly, the bedroom door flew open, thrown with a hard push to bang loudly as it hit the wall. The woman giggled again, a truly nauseating sound.

  Kirill’s back was to her. A metal crown was on his dark head. Animalistic groans of pleasure came from him as he kissed the dark woman in his arms. Ulyssa watched in stunned, frustrated silence, as Kirill’s hands ran over his lover’s body. His palms cupped her breasts, the thumb rubbing in slow circles over her nipple. The woman kept giggling, until it was all Ulyssa could hear in her numb brain. It annoyed the hell out of her.

  A low sound grew in the back of Kirill’s throat to answer the irritating laugh, bringing Ulyssa from her trance. The rumbling sent shivers over her spine. A heated, unreasonable jealousy lit like fire in her blood as she watched them together—especially since she’d nearly burned for him since their first meeting. Without thinking, she growled, “If you want to use the bed, then you best help me get off it first.”

  Where did that come from? Ulyssa was shocked by her outburst. She watched as Kirill stopped in mid-kiss. His firm lips drew back from the woman’s and his hand fell from her breast to his side. He turned confused eyes to look at her. Ulyssa wiggled her fingers at him in greeting, drawing attention to her wrists above her head. She pressed her lips together, giving him a mockingly wry smile.

  “You?” the stunned woman by his side began. Her wide eyes roamed over Ulyssa. Suddenly, she bowed low, “Forgive me, my lady. I did not seek an introduction. I am Linzi. I didn’t know the King already had a first. I didn’t know to seek your permission.”

  Kirill frowned and opened his mouth to speak. Linzi’s words stopped him.

  “I’m sorry for tempting you, my lord. I’ll spend the required thirty days in exile from you. If you wish to have me then, you know where to find me.” Linzi bowed and rushed from the room.

  Kirill didn’t even try to stop her from going. A rueful expression crossed his features and his heated gaze turned to the bed. Seeing her, a frown creased between his brown-black eyes. Ulyssa met his stare dead on. The challenge between them was once more renewed.

  Chapter Four

  “Cute little girlfriend you have there,” Ulyssa said dryly, “nice and submissive. I’m curious, does she have to ask permission to get on her knees and give you a blow—”

  “What are you doing here, Lyssa?” Kirill asked, crossing his arms. He had no qualms about checking out her bound form on his bed. Interest lit inside him, as he unabashedly studied her tantalizing position.

  “Uh, in case you’re blind, I really don’t have a choice but to be here at the moment. Your barbarian of a brother, Falke, tied me here.” Ulyssa again wiggled her fingers for dramatic effect, but his eyes weren’t on her hands. She tried to draw her legs together, but it did no good. If he were to lean over just a little further, he’d see right up her skirt. Moisture pooled between her thighs, making her more than ready.

  “And why would he have done that?” Kirill asked, coming to stand beside the bed. A slow, delicious smile curled his lips. A soft light shone from the closet, giving a pleasing dimness to his bedroom, casting their skin in a romantic softness that seemed out of place in their battle of the wills.

  “I don’t know,” she lied. Her voice dipped and she couldn’t stop herself from looking at him.

  “Hum.” Kirill studied her a moment longer before shrugging. “Suit yourself. I know my brother wouldn’t have tied you there without cause. Until you’re ready to speak the truth, I’ll be forced to leave you where you’re at.”

  Kirill made a move to leave. Ulyssa tensed.

  “Fine!” she yelled after him as his hand touched the door. “I was trying to escape this damned palace—which I’m sure you’re well aware is one giant maze. Some guard stopped me, then your brother showed up out of nowhere and...” Ulyssa sighed, rolling her eyes in her head. “And I might have told him you chose me to be your woman. Now untie me.”

  “You said what?” Kirill paled slightly. His eyes darted around to hers.

  “Gawd! You don’t have to look at me like that. Okay, so I’m not your type. You don’t have to rub it in. I’m not a freaking leper!” Ulyssa glared at him. What in the hell was wrong with her for a lover? She was every bit as attractive as that harlot she’d just chased out of the room with her presence. “Besides, you’d be lucky to sleep with a woman like me—if you could even handle it!”

  “I didn’t choose you,” Kirill said softly. A strange expression came to him. “Why would you say that?”

  “Hello? Are you even hearing me? I said I was trying to escape. I thought it would get me a free hall pass.” Ulyssa shrugged. “Now, I told you what happened. Untie me.”

  Kirill’s lip curled slightly, but he ignored her otherwise. Slowly, he walked to the fireplace and stuck his steel crown on the mantel. Very thoughtfully, he ran a light finger over the metal edge before moving to smooth back the long length of his black hair.

  “Don’t you understand what it is you have done?” Kirill asked.

  “No.” Ulyssa watched him closely. He turned to her, his gaze dark and poignant. Whispering, she asked, “What?”

  “You’ve declared yourself my mate,” Kirill said. “My first half-mate to be exact. It gives you power in my home. All it would take is my declaration and you’d be my lifemate, my wife.”

  “What?!” Ulyssa nearly screamed as she began bucking anew. “I’ll be no man’s wife! Now you untie me this instant, you heathenish, savage... jerk. What’s your race’s obsession with getting married anyway? Why don’t you join the modern age, you primitive... cat man! Don’t you even dare think to—”

  “Luckily,” Kirill stressed by way of interruption, “for both of our sakes, I’ll never make such a declaration. I’ve no use for a wife. And I certainly don’t wish for one that would try to burn me alive every day.”

  “What? Oooh! I said it was like being burned alive, like, oh, never mind!” Ulyssa glared hotly at him.

  “Either way, I’ve no use for a wife,” Kirill said, hiding his smirk.

  “Great, so it’s agreed. Untie me and point me to the nearest exit.” Ulyssa relaxed against the bed. Her arms ached from her constant pulling. Her finger throbbed from lack of blood and her wrists were beginning to sting from being rubbed raw. “And bring me my clothes.”

  “I’m afraid that’s no longer possible.” Kirill turned to her and made his way across the room to stand above her.

  “The clothes or the untying?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “What in the hell are you talking about, not possible?” Ulyssa’s eyes narrowed, as she stared up at him. Man, but he was handsome. If he weren’t so damned frustrating, she’d try to get him to lie on top of her. Tingles erupted all over her skin. Suddenly, her binds didn’t seem like such a bad thing. Her nerves reached out to him, wanting him.

  “You’ve declared yourself my first half-mate.” Kirill’s eyes softened as he looked down at her.

  “Yeah, so?” she demanded, growing rigid as she fought to control her lust for the barbaric King. Her lips pressed tightly together. “I take it back. I’m not your woman. There, taken care of. Now. Let. Me. Go!”

  “My kind cannot take back such declarations, especially on the same day they’re made. To do so would dishonor us both. It would be assumed either you lied or I misused you and later denied it. Either way, it’s not a good way to start my reign as King—with scandal.”

  “Tell everyone I lied. You’ll not be looked down upon. In fact, you can say you banished me from the palace as punishment. It’d solve both our pro
blems.” Unbidden, her eyes began a journey over his hard body. He was gorgeous to be sure. Her gaze took in his broad shoulders, his slender waist, his perfectly proportioned hips. Seeing the hard bulge pressing against his pants, her mouth went dry. She wished her hands were free so that she could pull open the laces at his hips to better see. But, being as her hands were occupied, she’d gladly use her teeth—if he’d just step closer.

  “You’ll be dishonored.”

  Ulyssa’s eyes flew up to meet his. His features were lined with vast amusement.

  “I don’t care what your people think of me. So what if I’m dishonored.” She widened her eyes and declared mockingly, “I’m sure I’ll get over it.”

  “To be dishonored in my culture is to face either imprisonment or death.” Kirill’s eyes roamed over her body, devouring her form as she had his. His gaze stopped to leisurely stare at her breasts. He purposefully licked his lips. “If I let you go, you’ll be hunted.”

  “Well, oh dire one, tell me. How do we get out of this mess?”

  “There’s only two ways I know of,” he answered.

  “The first?”

  “Death.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to die for me, would ya stud?” Ulyssa asked with a raise of her brow.

  “No.” Kirill grinned mischievously at her—a truly wicked smile. Tremors again coursed through her at the look. He was really too attractive, just looking at him made her mind wander to naughtier things.

  “And the second?” Her voice came out a whisper. His smile widened. Ulyssa grew nervous. “What’s the second way?”

  “You have to stay here, in my home, and be my mistress.”

  It took awhile for the shock of his bold statement to set in. Ulyssa stared at him, waiting for the laughter that was sure to follow such a declaration. The laughter never came. Even as her body leapt with fire at the idea of being his lover, her mind rebelled. She would belong to no man. She could be no man’s mistress.