Possessed by the Alpha
Page 42
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BONUS: Wild Hunt preview
In the game of good vs. evil, the Devil unleashes… Hell
They call him the Devil, Satan, Lucifer…a monster. He answers to anything, but if you ask him, he'll tell you the truth. His name is Arawn, Lord of the Underworld, and he's made a mistake. He fell in love and neglected his duties. Now, the Unseelie Court is terrorizing the human world, and innocents are suffering.
Righting his wrong won't happen without a sacrifice. Arawn knows that. The woman who holds his heart and soul knows that. Neither will like the price he has to pay to ensure the Unseelie Court is returned to the lowest pits of the Underworld.
But nobody ever said being the devil was easy. Luckily, Arawn knows a thing or two about hell… and love.
Arawn's story does not have a happy ending. It doesn't even have a safe ending, but the devil has a plan to turn his mistake into a victory. Come join him on the Wild Hunt for a blistering, twisted fairy tale of love, betrayal, mystery, and redemption.
The greatest game of all time starts now, and the devil is making the first move.
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Or read an excerpt:
Screams reverberated inside Arawn’s head. He knew the story behind each one, had shared in their agony, and had experienced their deaths. All had been avenged. None would be forgotten. It was his gift and a reminder of why he oversaw the punishment of the corrupt.
Or so the Triad had told him the day he was chosen as the Lord of the Underworld. The day he was sacrificed to Hell.
Damned and forgotten.
Hands clenched, he strode across the balcony of his fortress. At the railing, he stopped and swept his gaze over his realm. The endless barren landscape offered little in the way of scenery or comfort. It wasn’t meant to give any.
The unfortunate beings who found themselves on the desolate plains stayed only long enough to be judged before moving to the lower sections of Hell, where they faced their eternal punishment. The nine shimmering portals dotting the horizon provided access to each level.
He studied the barriers, looking for any additional signs of deterioration. All remained secured. He nodded, pleased that his efforts to mend them had found some measure of success. The horrors and inhabitants contained within the Underworld could not be released, not ever again.
The demon sentinels who guarded the gateways understood the dangers and the penalties if they failed in their role. Arawn had made sure of it, and those who obeyed his command were richly rewarded. Few offered him their allegiance, however. They were demons after all, and he was a god.
Revered, envied, feared, and…
Blessed.
Arawn cracked his jaw. The knowledge that he was the Triad’s favored servant, the one chosen to act as its hand in the never-ending battle against evil, didn’t comfort him or make his endless existence worthwhile. Only one thing did… One person, actually.
Minerva.
Silver hair and eyes, the face an angel, and the body of a succubus—she was beautiful. As a goddess of love, she was expected to be gorgeous. He craved her touch, savored her every kiss, and found heaven each time he joined their bodies.
He closed his eyes and conjured her face, allowing the wonder she bestowed upon him to seize him. The screeches and moans echoing within him faded to murmurs. He sighed in relief. Peace filled him. Fleeting, yes. The second her image slipped from the forefront of his mind, the endless anguish he experienced would return.
He treasured the moment. It would have to last. What he planned would take his personal heaven from him, at least for a little while.
He didn’t want to lose her. He had no other choice, however. His wrong in allowing the evil to escape Hell had to be righted, no matter the cost. Like a plague, the unholy beings scavenging on the humans in the mortal realm were multiplying and infecting the innocents, turning them into unspeakable creatures. They could not be allowed to spread more.
Arawn knew this. He accepted the responsibility to curtail the evil infecting the human world. The rationalization wouldn’t erase the sin he would soon commit, nor did it justify his past actions. His justification was all he had to give his mate, however.
It wasn’t enough. Nothing was.
On a weary exhale, he opened his eyes, letting Minerva’s image scatter, lost to his memory. The endless expanse of the Underworld greeted him. The shrieks and pleas of victims returned, ten times worse than they had gripped him before. Dots spread over his vision, and the pressure behind his eyes built. He breathed through the sensation until the dizziness passed. One more deep inhale, and he steadied himself, pushing back the weakness only Minerva knew about.
He turned his back on the domain he’d been tasked to oversee and made his way inside, each step slower than the last. Choices, past and present, weighed him down. They couldn’t be ignored, however. He’d picked his path, and the consequences of his decision were inescapable.
At his office, he straightened his spine, then flung the door open.
Lucas, the Demon King, stood with his hands clasped behind his back and his gaze on Minerva’s portrait. He glanced over his shoulder. His plain brown eyes held curiosity. “You summoned me?”
Arawn shut the door behind him. “I am leaving the Underworld, and I want you to maintain my rule while I’m gone.”
Lucas raised a brown brow, the only sign of his shock. “And how do you plan to pull off such a feat? You are tied to this realm, as I am.”
“Through my mate’s connection to the heavens.” Minerva just didn’t know she’d be helping him yet.
“I see.” Lucas faced Minerva’s portrait. “She plans to leave the Underworld too? I thought she’d vowed to remain here under your”—he cleared his throat—“protection.”
Protection. Arawn almost snorted at the demon’s word choice. None of the creatures in the Underworld would dare harm Minerva. No, it wasn’t protection Arawn offered her but relief. Within his realm of desolation, she thrived.
“She will remain here, and you will distract her from the unfortunate side effect of her position.”
“I am an incubus.” A leering grin spread over Lucas’s ordinary face. “The only comfort I can give is sex.”
Arawn didn’t bother responding to the demon’s taunting. For one, Arawn didn’t doubt his mate’s love or fidelity. More importantly, he knew what Lucas wanted above all else, and it had nothing to do with sex.
“Do so, and I will revoke my pardon. You and your flock will descend into the lowest pits of Hell.”
Lucas stepped forward, body tensed and hands balled into fists. “You need me to corral all the demon species. I am their king. You promised—”
“I promised nothing. Fear kept the lesser demons in check before you arrived. It will do so again if you lose your position. Do not forget why you were sentenced here.” Arawn motioned toward the body Lucas inhabited. “Or our deal.”
Lucas’s nostrils flared on his rough inhales. Finally, he cursed. “So be it.”
“Good.” Arawn nodded. “Until I return, then.”
He opened the door and stepped out, leaving Lucas behind in his temporary office.
“You plan to stop Dagda?”
The mention of his enemy sent a wave of anger through Arawn. Sharpened nails punched from the ends of his fingers. Fangs descended, and his jaw lengthened. He embraced the change, allowing the black, scaled beast feared by the humans to claim him. His massive wings unfolded. One flap, then two, and he closed the distance between himself and the demon who focused on Arawn’s wings, envy darkening his eyes.
Arawn crouched and tipped up Lucas’s chin with a curled talon. “That name is not to be spoken. Dagda is dead.”
“The fairy king is not dead.” Lucas narrowed his eyes. “He is Dar now, leader of the Unseelie Court, and transformed into a being even the Triad cannot touch.”
Arawn leaned closer. “Diseased, not transformed.”
He shoved the other male. Lucas flew back
ward and hit the desk, knocking over the wooden table. Scrolls and tomes fell. A crystal decanter followed. The bottle smashed, spilling wine over the millennium-old works. Neither of them glanced at the ruined pieces. Their gazes remained locked.
“Diseased, yes.” Lucas pushed to his feet. “But be mindful of your words. Dagda is not dead, nor is he weak. He grows stronger every day, and soon he will make good on his promise.”
To unleash his entire Court upon the mortal realm. Only Arawn stood in Dagda’s way.
Arawn allowed his winged form to recede and met Lucas’s accusing glare. Arawn didn’t bother arguing. The demon was right. Instead, Arawn offered the other male the one thing that would guarantee he carried out Arawn’s order without question—hope.
“I will return soon. Maintain my realm, and I will revoke my hold over you. You will no longer need to fear punishment at my hand.”
Lucas sucked in a breath. “You vow it.”
A vise squeezed Arawn’s chest and a sense of foreboding settled over him, but he knew it could not be avoided. Lucas was the only male Arawn trusted enough not only to oversee the workings of the Underworld but to guard the destructive powers it contained.
Arawn nodded. “I vow it.”
“And my followers? Do you vow not to punish them?”
“No, demon.” Arawn laughed. “I do not.”
“But they are innocent. They—”
“They followed your lead. Stupidity landed them in Hell. I cannot take the chance their poor judgment will affect my holdings. Keep them in check, and they will continue to live freely in my world.”
Lucas lifted a lip, but no sound accompanied his enraged expression.
“Do you agree?” Arawn asked. There could be no misunderstandings. Too many lives depended on it.
“I agree to maintain your law as you have set forth, to comfort your mate as if she was my own, and to ensure the creatures you’ve restrained here do not slip through the damaged gateway to the human realm. Is that enough?”
Arawn gave a single dip of his chin, then pivoted on his heel and strode down the hall.
“What is your plan?”
Lucas’s question stopped Arawn’s steps. He glanced over his shoulder. “I will build an army capable of hunting the corrupted fairies in the mortal world.”
The same curiosity that had damned Lucas and landed him in Hell bled into his eyes. He tilted his head. “And how do plan to accomplish that feat?”
By sacrificing the one thing his beloved mate yearned for. “You need not concern yourself over my plans. It is between me and the Triad.”
Lucas grunted. “Then prepare to lose everything.”
Arawn turned and continued down the corridor without responding. He feared the demon was right.
And it was his own fault. He chose love over duty.
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Possessed (by the Alpha)
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Cursed
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About the Author
Nancy Corrigan is a dreamer who one day decided to write down what the voices in her head were telling her. When she's not lost in her imagination, she's busy being a wife, mother, and chemist. Yes, she might run on caffeine some days as she juggles all her roles, but that's okay. She loves coffee.
Nancy resides in Pennsylvania with her husband, their three children, dog, snake, cats, turtle, tortoises, mouse, and guinea pig. Her other interests include tattoos, animals, classic cars, and mythology.
Nancy also writes under the pen names: Hayden Wolfe and Dana Archer, but no matter what name she uses, the values she upholds—courage, truth, honor, fidelity, discipline, hospitality, self reliance, industriousness, perseverance—are the same.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Nancy Corrigan, #247, 325 N 10th St. Ste. 400, Lewisburg, PA 17837
Possessed Copyright © 2019 by Nancy Corrigan
Edited by Linda Ingmanson
Cover art by Dar Albert, Wicked Smart Designs
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Electronic publication: May 2020 (1st edition)
This is the Mainstream Fiction version of Kade by Dana Archer.
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ISBN: 978-1-946672-93-3