Chosen Mate

by Juniper Hart

  “That’s a damned uncanny resemblance!” Wilder growled. “I need to find her before the cops do. I want her brought here and chained in the dungeon for questioning!” Keppler tried not to laugh aloud.

  “Wilder, we made the dungeon into a fitness room and massage center about thirty years ago,” he reminded him. “We have prisons now, remember?”

  “No!” Wilder snarled. “A prison won’t hold her if she’s a dragon! Why do I have to tell you this? Think, Keppler, think!”

  Keppler sighed loudly, not bothering to hide his exasperation. “I really have to go,” he told his brother. “Maybe we should have another meeting tonight and talk about what happened to Raemyr and his wife.”

  Wilder’s jaw slacked slightly, his eyes narrowing.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” he hissed. “We know what happened.”

  “Yes,” Keppler agreed. “But we never really talked about who did it.”

  Wilder’s eyes widened, and he inadvertently stepped back, eyeing Keppler with a peculiar expression he couldn’t read.

  “No… we haven’t, have we,” he murmured, the words seeming to stick to the roof of his mouth as he said them. “Maybe we should…”

  “Set it up, Wild,” Keppler said. “I have to go. Seriously. Just take it easy, okay? I’ll come back here tonight, and we’ll sort out what needs to be done, if anything, with Bryn Castillo.”

  Wilder’s eyes bugged slightly, and he reached out to grab Keppler’s arm. “So you agree?” he gasped. “You think it’s her!”

  Keppler immediately realized his mistake.

  “I don’t remember what the kids looked like,” he replied, answering with honesty for the first time since starting this conversation with his brother. “I have no idea if it’s her or not.”

  “I will never forget what they looked like,” Wilder mumbled, and the words sent a chill of apprehension through Keppler.

  It was him, he thought. He did kill Raemyr and Magnolia. We were such animals back then. Was there nothing we wouldn’t do?

  Keppler forced himself to concentrate on the present, offering his brother a quick, nervous smile.

  “No matter what,” he told Wilder, “there is only one of her and five of us. There has not been a breath of dragons on the Sunside in centuries. Even if it is her, she may have forgotten how to use her shifting abilities.” He didn’t believe his own words, of course, but he desperately wanted to wipe the stricken look from Wilder’s face.

  “No,” his brother sighed deeply. “There are four of them, and I know you don’t believe for a second that if it’s them, if they haven’t died off, they have forsaken their powers.”

  “Just hang in there,” Keppler said quickly, turning away before Wilder could drag him into another game of ‘what if.’ “We’ll sort this out one way or another.”

  “I hope so,” Wilder murmured. “We’ve come so far. The last thing the Hollows need is unrest when things have been going so well.”

  “You’re being a fatalist,” Keppler chirped optimistically. “I’ll talk to you later.” He hurried away, feeling Wilder’s worried eyes on his back.

  I guess the suppliers really will have to wait, he thought grimly. I’m going back to pay Bryn a visit, and this time, she doesn’t get the option of dismissing me. Not if she wants some hope of getting out of this alive.

  Bryn’s car was in the driveway when Keppler arrived, but the engine was cold, suggesting that it had been there all night.

  She better open the door, he thought grimly. She really doesn’t understand the danger she’s in right now. He hit the doorbell for the fourth time in less than twelve hours and waited impatiently as fog rolled in over the city, the haze creating a laziness along the street.

  The door opened abruptly, and Bryn stood before him, staring at him in shock.

  Keppler couldn’t stop his eyes from wracking over her svelte frame, accented by a pair of red yoga pants and a simple tank top. He realized she was getting ready to go for a jog, her Fitbit fastened to a slender wrist, earbuds laced around her neck. She wore her black hair hastily pinned up in a haphazard ponytail, but her blue eyes were barely noticeable through the slits of her lids.

  “You have got to be kidding me!” Bryn stared at him as if he had two heads, but he didn’t let her stop him from storming inside the front door. “Hey!” she cried. “Get the hell out of my house!”

  “No,” Keppler growled, spinning to face her. “Not until you and I have a conversation.”

  She folded her arms over her chest and scoffed at him, though Keppler detected a definitive nervousness to her cocky pose. “I swear, Keppler, I will call the cops!”

  “Oh, cut the bullshit, Bryn,” he interjected. “I know who you are. You’re not going to call the cops. Your face is everywhere in the city.” Bryn eyed him silently, her mouth forming a tight line. “You’re in trouble, Bryn.”

  “If you came here to save my soul, you’re a little late,” she snapped, but as she spoke, Keppler noticed a fire burning in her eyes, like she was ignited by the confrontation.

  She’s enjoying this! he realized, half-amused, half-annoyed. She’s not going to be in a second.

  “I assure you, your soul is the least of my concerns,” he retorted, slamming the door. “And I’m not talking about your illegal enterprises, Bryn, I’m talking about—”

  A smash from below him caused him to start, cutting him off midsentence.

  “What the hell was that?” Keppler demanded. Bryn’s face turned ashen, but she shook her head, struggling to keep the sour look on her face.

  “The washer,” she said. “Must have an imbalanced cycle.”

  “That was not the washer.” Keppler didn’t wait for her to argue as he brushed past her to throw open the basement door and hurry down the steps.

  “Wait!” Bryn screamed after him. “You can’t go down there!”

  But it was too late, and as Keppler stood at the bottom landing, staring at the tangled captives on the dirty concrete, he sucked in a quick breath of air. The two hostages desperately cried out to him, their words muffled by their gags.

  Keppler turned to look at Bryn, who grunted in exasperation but didn’t seem bothered that she had been caught in the middle of a kidnapping plot.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Keppler asked from between clenched teeth, although he made no move to help the couple on the floor, bound to a broken chair. He didn’t know what was going on, but he had a feeling that Bryn had not simply plucked two unwitting strangers off the street for ransom. At least, he thought so. It wasn’t like he knew the woman at all. And yet…

  Why do I feel like I do? he wondered. Like I have? He hated himself for hesitating, for not jumping into action, but he found himself waiting for Bryn’s response.

  “It’s a business transaction gone bad,” she grumbled, turning back to head up the stairs. “They’re fine. Just leave them.”

  “Just leave them?” he echoed.

  “You said you wanted to talk, right? Let’s talk.” Bryn was already on the main floor of the house, leaving Keppler to stare at the horrified duo with pleading eyes.

  “Sorry,” he offered simply, turning back up to follow Bryn. The boys and I have done much worse. If those captives were Wilder’s, they wouldn’t be alive right now after a foiled business deal.

  As Keppler reached the top landing, he looked around for Bryn, opening his mouth to call out for her. Before he could speak, his body was spasming violently, and he crashed to the floor. As the first shock subsided, Bryn’s face appeared over his, and another shock quickly ensued, spots of color dancing before his eyes as he stared up at her in stunned amazement.

  “Sorry about this, Keppler,” she said. As odd as it was, Keppler could hear the regret in her voice. “But you’re going to ruin everything.”

  With that, she jolted another wave of electricity into his massive frame, and he lost consciousness, silently cursing her as the world went dark around him.

  9r />
  Bryn paced around the bedroom, willing herself to be calm, even though her blood was pounding in her ears as she stared at the unconscious figure on her king-sized mattress, his wrists bound to the posts of the posters with the twine Bryn was quickly running out of. She chewed on her lower lip, continuing to glance at Keppler through her peripheral vision.

  I have three people tied up in my house, one of which is a dragon prince, she thought. How long would it be before he regained consciousness? And what would he do to her when he did?

  She was not stupid; she knew there was no way that the binds would hold him, not when he was apt to wake up in a fit of dragon rage. Her only option was to watch for signs of consciousness and zap him again until she came up with a more solid plan.

  How did this happen? For a decade, she had been working toward executing the proper revenge, and suddenly, in two days, it had all gone to shit!

  Because of those two assholes in the basement, she recalled. I really should kill them!

  Of course, Bryn knew she couldn’t. It wasn’t in her nature, no matter what she had promised her dying brothers when she left Greenland.

  They had not fared well in the arctic tundra, the fire in their blood turning to ice until they became ghastly shadows of their former selves. When the exile had lifted and they had been free to leave, none of the three had been able to.

  “We’ll die here, Bryn,” Jace, the oldest, said in resignation. “It’s on you to avenge our parents, to avenge us. You must kill them all. The conspirators, both mortal and immortal. The dragons. You must find out which one was the actual murderer and make him suffer the worst.”

  They were far too weak to understand what they were asking of their youngest sibling, the kindest-hearted of the four, and she was desperate to appease their wishes.

  I’ve changed in the last decade, Bryn told herself firmly. I could kill them all now. She wondered who she was lying to inside her own head.

  On the bed, Keppler stirred slightly, and she sprung forward, the taser in her hand, ready to zap him. Before she could, he seemed to fall back into unconsciousness with a heavy sigh.

  Bryn walked around the side of the bed and perched there, placing the taser at her side as she studied his face pensively. Asleep, it was difficult to believe he was a creature of unimaginable horrors, but Bryn remembered the Battles of Wyvern as if they had occurred only weeks earlier. There had been bloodshed and terror beyond her wildest comprehension, the fight for supremacy lasting what felt like centuries despite having only lasted decades.

  We had a truce, you jerks, Bryn thought furiously, reaching a hand up to subconsciously move a strand of hair from Keppler’s face. Why couldn’t you just let it all fall into place and share your rule naturally?

  Suddenly becoming aware of her fingertips on his face, Bryn felt a flush of heat course through her body. She didn’t move her hand, though, realizing this was the closest she would ever come to one of the princes without facing imminent death.

  If he wakes up, you’ll be in trouble, she warned herself, but that didn’t stop her from tracing the regal lines of his cheekbones, trailing them across his face to meet his full lips. Idly, she wondered what it would be like to taste his mouth, and the thought filled her with both shame and excitement simultaneously. Like you don’t have enough to worry about without molesting a dragon prince.

  But reason had already slipped away. Slowly, Bryn lowered her lips to his, watching his face with wide, clear eyes as their mouths touched.

  She didn’t know why the voltaic shock surprised her, but her heart raced at the instant connection, as if she’d been waiting to do precisely that her entire existence. Their mouths touching still, Bryn took in Keppler’s slumbering face, wondering if he could feel their attraction in his dreams.

  No sooner did she have the thought than she was suddenly flying upward and flipping midair to fall onto her back. Keppler loomed over her, his strong body straddling her, the thin rope dangling from his wrists.

  “Are you having fun?” he growled, fury coloring his eyes as he pinned her arms to the bed. A rush of titillation flooded Bryn, and she could do nothing but nod, their eyes clashing.

  “Yes,” she heard herself answer, even though she recognized the inherent danger she faced. But what she read in Keppler’s eyes overcame the feeling of peril she should have known, and as his weight crushed into hers, Bryn knew that their bond surpassed political ties.

  This can’t be happening, a voice of reason cried out to her from deep within her mind. Bryn silenced it instantly, jutting her chin upward, daring Keppler to kiss her. He easily read the challenge in her eyes, and he crushed his lips to hers, his breaths already escaping in short, charged gasps.

  Bryn tried to raise her arms, yearning to wrap her arms around his neck, but Keppler held her firmly in place, his kisses growing hotter as his tongue moved to tease hers. She gasped at the touch, the sound echoing past her lips when Keppler pulled away from her, his lips trailing along the smoothness of her cheek.

  “I should kill you,” he growled, but the words had the adverse effect they were meant to have, sending jolts of arousal through Bryn’s body. Keppler’s nose nuzzled against the soft skin along her neck, his mouth sampling each inch of exposed skin.

  “Not before you finish,” Bryn exhaled. Keppler grunted, but Bryn could hear the amusement in his tone, his kisses growing more urgent as he found the curve of her breasts.

  A tingle slithered through her, goosebumps exploding on her arms as she again tried to push up against him. He continued to hold her in place, his mouth suctioning against the taut skin of her nipple. Bryn moaned, relishing the waves of heat flowing over her. Keppler’s face dropped lower, somehow managing to remove her jogging outfit with only his teeth, and Bryn mewled with pleasure, arching her back to meet his roaming tongue.

  This is so wrong, she realized. If Jace and the others knew you were sleeping with the enemy… The last thing she wanted at that moment was to think of her brothers’ disappointed faces, and she shoved them aside, if only for a few minutes. I deserve some pleasure for once. I haven’t experienced anything but suffering in my entire life.

  She didn’t remind herself that it was the fault of the princes, because at that moment, Keppler—with his hot mouth pressed against her center—was the only source of elation she had felt in eons.

  Bryn gasped, feeling her body quiver as he brought her to her limit, her thighs tensing as his tongue worked vigorously against her core. Finally, Bryn could take no more, exploding in a mass of cries that filled the room. She floated above herself, Keppler coming to meet her face with his, and they shared a deep, long kiss before he let her one arm free.

  Eagerly, Bryn reached for the zipper of his faded jeans, shoving the pants over his sculpted rear singlehandedly to guide him toward her center. Their gazes locked again in a frenzy of anger and arousal melding together as their bodies joined in a passion, unlike anything Bryn had ever known.

  “Gods!” Keppler gasped, filling her as his arm seized her slim waist and yanked her skin to his. She could feel the burn of his flesh against her belly, her hand sweeping up into his mass of light brown waves. She pulled his face to hers, choking on a gasp when Keppler’s movements grew more frenzied.

  Bryn mewled, feeling the rush of another climax rising inside her, and as Keppler pulled back to stare intently at her, she knew he felt the same. In seconds, they were a pile of quaking legs and arms, twisted in one another, struggling to regain their breaths.

  Very slowly and painfully, reality began to seep back into Bryn’s veins, and she was consumed with an almost palpable fear once she realized the predicament in which she found herself.

  “Relax,” Keppler muttered, as if he sensed her onset panic. “I’m not going to kill you.”

  “I figured,” she replied dryly, but her pulse was still racing. Slowly, Keppler released her other arm, and a flood of blood rushed up Bryn’s wrist. Her hand had fallen asleep, though she barely notice
d in the wake of what they had experienced together.

  Keppler rolled off her and cast her a wary look, his back against the mattress. Bryn also eyed him through her peripheral vision, unsure of where they were going to go from here.

  “You know who I am,” Keppler continued without staring at her fully. “What made you think you could ever subdue me?”

  “I don’t know who you are,” Bryn lied, wondering why she was bothering. They were so past the games now. She had two people in her basement, people who knew about her misdeeds and who would probably try to kill her if they were released. People who likely heard us up here, too. This house is not exactly soundproof.

  Embarrassment tinged her cheeks.

  “You don’t know who I am?” Keppler chuckled mirthlessly, turning to prop himself up on one arm. “Then allow me to introduce myself. I’m Keppler Parker, and I believe you have a plan to get revenge on my family to avenge your own family. Does any of that sound familiar?”

  Bryn’s face flushed, and she closed her eyes, furious with herself. “How could I kill you?” she snarled. “I’m one. You’re five.”

  Keppler exhaled, and she could hear the disappointment in the outpouring of air. She realized that a small part of him had been hoping she was not who he thought she was.

  “Who is that couple in your basement?”

  “I told you,” Bryn snapped defensively, sitting up to pull her shirt down over her bare bosom. “They were business associates.”

  “From the home invasions?” Keppler asked.

  “What do you want from me? If you’re here to kill me, just do it. You’ve already ruined my entire family. One more life shouldn’t be any mark on your conscience.”

  Keppler sat up and gaped at her. “I did not kill your family!” he retorted hotly. “And I haven’t come here to kill you. I’ve come here to save you!”

  He seemed as shocked by his words as Bryn felt, and the two stared at one another, unspeaking, for a long minute. From below them, a crash made them both jump, the moment temporarily lost.