Forbidden Mate Read online

  He pawed the earth and then bounded through the narrow paths between trees. The forest was thick and untouched by humans. It was also home. He knew every leaf, every unruly root, and every valley for miles. He didn’t stop for hours. As he ran, his heart raced, adrenaline rushing through his veins. He loved connecting with his wolf—just his fur and the nature around him.

  When he came to the southern edge of the forest, the natural darkness was cast out by the lights from the town. He stopped and watched, not moving a muscle. He was an outsider. In the shadows of the tree line, not even another shifter would be able to spot him. Marco listened to the drone of music from the bar, pet dogs barking, and light footsteps coming toward him.

  He crouched lower, his eyes riveted on the source of the steps. It was a lone female rushing along the barren dirt road. Fear clung to her like a cheap perfume. The signature was impossible to miss and also irresistible to his wolf. He had the urge to attack, but kept himself under control.

  As she passed in front of him, she wasn’t the wiser of his presence in the shadows. Her scent was a subtle vanilla, instantly arousing his beast. He wanted her.

  Marco roared as a war played inside him. You have no right to desire another woman! The female on the street gasped before she began to run in the direction of the darkened buildings. It wasn’t his intention to scare her. He really only wanted to punish himself for letting his mate die and continually trying to move forward without her. He didn’t deserve a second chance.

  Marco’s sanity was teetering on a fine edge and he knew it. He decided he’d step out of character for tonight and hit the local bar. Normally he liked to avoid other shifters and keep to his remote hideaway in the woods. But he needed something—maybe a miracle. Since that was unlikely, he’d try to drown out his sorrows in cheap liquor. It worked for countless other males in their remote homeland, maybe it would for him too.

  Marco managed to scrounge up a pair of worn jeans and T-shirt before entering the only place left open at the late hour. He needed to wipe the scent of that female from his memory because he couldn’t stop obsessing. This was the first time in nearly a decade he couldn’t control his wolf.

  “Can I help you?” asked the barmaid after he sat on a wooden stool.

  So this was the source of the noise he could hear from the edge of the forest. He’d always been curious. Marco looked to his sides, absorbing his surroundings and accessing any threats.

  The place didn’t live up to his expectations.

  The music was loud on his senses, the place filled to capacity with overbearing revelers. He wanted to be invisible, but then again, he doubted any of the drunkards or scantily-clad women noticed he existed. Maybe this was his answer.

  He returned his attention to the barkeep. “Give me something strong.”

  “Need a little liquid courage tonight?”

  “Just need to forget.”

  “Don’t we all?” The she-wolf set down a row of clean shot glasses and began to pour. Part of Marco screamed to leave, to not take the path of deeper self-destruction. But the weak part, the one that barely held on one day to the next, swallowed the liquor as if it were a saving grace.

  He swiveled and scanned the crowd, the booze burning a path down to his stomach. There were too many unfamiliar faces. Time seemed to stand still, one minute blending into the next as the last shot began to filter into his blood.

  “I thought humans weren’t allowed in here,” he said.

  She shrugged. “These are modern times. It was bound to happen.” She poured him another round. After wiping up a spill on the lacquered bar, she continued, “I’ve seen you before. You and another wolf.”

  “You mean Targus.”

  “And you’re both unmated? Seems unusual for two quality males.” She licked her ruby-red lips, but he wasn’t buying whatever she was offering.

  “We’ve both given up on women,” he slurred.

  As the effects began to take hold, he smiled lazily. He wanted to forget as much as he wanted to remember. The women in the bar all began to look alike, his doubled vision playing tricks with his mind. He staggered off his stool, bumping into other patrons as he attempted to find the exit.

  “Watch it!” Someone pushed him into another man. He was tossed about like a pinball until someone finally decided to throw a punch. Unfortunately it didn’t knock his sense back into him, leaving him more disoriented and pathetic. The other men in the bar were itching for a fight, and the alcohol didn’t help the flood of testosterone. It wasn’t going to turn out well for him.

  He did the only thing he could do with his vision, strength, and common sense at the bottom of a shot glass—he started swinging.

  The roar of voices pounded in his head. There was a frenzy amongst the bar-goers, all chanting for bloodshed. Marco was lost. He was sailing along, ignoring the pain, trying to make sense of the chaos. The vague sting of punches reminded him he wasn’t winning any battles tonight. He considered shifting, but even in his inebriated state, he knew better than to shift in a public place. To break such a founding rule would mean certain outcast or worse.

  “Marco!” The familiar voice registered, but he was too wasted to care. Someone grabbed him sharply by the collar and dragged him away from the bar and the relentless beating, tossing him onto the dusty pathway. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

  He looked up through one slanted eye, the other swollen shut. “Nett?”

  “Targus! It’s Targus, Marco. For gods’ sake.” He watched his friend pace back and forth, the light from the bar windows illuminating his large, heaving frame.

  “Right. I knew that.”

  “What the fuck are you doing here? What if I hadn’t shown up? Do you think getting hammered is the answer? You look like a filthy coyote right now, not a wolf.” Targus massaged both hands behind his neck. “You used to be so much better than this. Maybe you are a lost cause.”

  He could feel his friend’s disappointment and desperation. It wasn’t Marco’s intention to hurt anyone, especially Targus. He’d really fucked up everything.

  Marco pushed up with his arms, but lost all strength, collapsing back to the dirt. He wanted to stop his friend from walking away, to demand another chance to prove he was better than this. But it was too late.

  He fell asleep on the dirt floor in front of the bar like a common drunk. He’d hit rock bottom.

  ****

  Helen was up early, going over all the brochures from the tour company. They were spread out over the small kitchen table like wrapping paper. She kept repeating the facts in her head in case any of the passengers asked her a question on the bus tour. The entire trip was ridiculous. She never should have agreed to come, not when these people were paying for an experienced tour guide.

  She studied the notes she’d scribbled down about the town. There was a massive castle as a focal point, but they weren’t allowed to enter the grounds. Who lives there? It must be some wealthy, upper class family…or possibly royalty. Maybe it was empty, a landmark of sorts. She didn’t know much about the area or its history, and nobody seemed willing to tell her anything. The townsfolk were all hush-hush about everything, and it was started to rouse her suspicions. Hopefully one of the passengers wouldn’t put her on the spot by asking her about the castle.

  Helen sighed and dropped down in her chair. As much as she should be researching Chupacabras, castles, and haunted forests, she couldn’t stop thinking about the man from last night. Would she see him again? He was like a fantasy—here one minute, gone the next. When she first woke up she questioned if the chain of events last night actually occurred. Her ripped blouse was evidence it wasn’t imagined.

  Why had he just ditched her? She’d been ready to give her body to him without restraint, and he flatly refused. It was for the best, that she was certain. Helen didn’t recognize the lusty woman from last night. It couldn’t have been her. She prided herself on living a conservative—boring—lifestyle. Messing around with gorgeous strange
rs in the wilderness at night was on her top ten list of no-nos.

  There was a sudden knock on her door, giving her a fright. Before she even stood up to answer it, the bus driver called out that she had fifteen minutes before they had to board. He hated her. She could feel the animosity the second she stepped onto the bus yesterday. He was probably pissed that he had to tow around a replacement guide with no experience. Helen just kept to herself and tried to make the best of it. Surely she’d survive four days.

  She gathered the most informative brochures into a neat pile and then tucked them into her oversized purse. Helen glanced out the window before leaving. It was an overcast day, no comforting rays of sunshine to perk her up. Everything was a shade of gray. She looked down to the street below.

  That’s when she saw the body.

  Helen swung her purse over her shoulder and rushed out of her hotel room. When she reached the main floor, she shoved open the front door with exaggerated force. He was only a few feet away from the entrance, his body face down in the dirt. She felt a small twinge of disappointment when she realized the man wasn’t the one starring in her new fantasies from yesterday. They looked so much alike at first glance—tall, built, and littered with tattoos. But this man was a new stranger, probably homeless or a drunk if he’d slept on the street.

  To make sure he was okay, she squatted down on her heels next to him. She looked side to side, wondering why no one had stopped to help him by now. The town was small but surely someone would have passed by since sunrise.

  “Hello?” She gave him a slight nudge, surprised by how firm his muscles were, even when relaxed. The cotton shirt pulled tight over his shoulders, leaving nothing to her imagination. Nice.

  The stranger lunged out and snagged her wrist in a too-tight grip. She squealed from the shock and fell on her bottom as she bolted back. Helen thought he was oblivious to the world, asleep in some drunken state. He stared at her with unblinking focus, his eyes glowing an inhuman yellow, taking her breath away.

  “Who are you?” he demanded. The man took in his surroundings with a look of complete confusion, as if he’d woken up on the other side of the world. He had a strong jaw covered in a few days’ worth of stubble. The man definitely worked out, so she doubted he was homeless. Then why was he asleep on the ground?

  “Helen. Helen Cooper.”

  “Helen? What are doing here?”

  “I–I’m working with the tour bus company.” She pointed to the bus parked about half a block away. Why was everyone shocked she was in town? There were other tourists besides her on the tour. “Can I get you something?”

  She was thinking he might be thirsty, but the look in his eyes was a different kind of hunger. Helen swallowed hard, wanting to look away but unable to.

  He slowly shifted off the ground and rose to his feet, pulling her up with him. The man was massive when standing. He brushed some of the dirt from his pants and then ran his hands through his dark, unruly hair.

  “I remember that scent. It’s even stronger today. When did you arrive here?” He clutched the side of his head as if suffering from a massive headache. She didn’t doubt it, if he’d been fall-down drunk last night.

  “I came yesterday…around dinner. And I showered this morning, by the way.”

  He looked puzzled as he raked his eyes up and down her body. She felt naked, like he was undressing her slow layer by slow layer. Those eyes were capable of preforming foreplay without a touch. “You’re human.”

  “I hope so.”

  He looked like he wanted to reach out to her, but stopped himself. “You’ve just complicated my life,” he said it with an air of regret.

  The guy growled, his eyes narrowed before he turned and stormed away in the direction of the tree line. What had she done wrong? She’d just played Good Samaritan, and now he was pissed?

  “Wait!” she called out. But he didn’t stop or even turn to acknowledge her. That was the second brooding hunk to walk out of her life in the past twenty-four hours. The rejections weren’t helping to build her self-esteem. It was bad enough she was thirty-five, unemployed, and single. Never mind the fact her body decided to reach its sexual peak a few months back. But finding a good man was like finding a winning lotto ticket—most were losers.

  Helen collected herself, refocusing on the job at hand. She boarded the empty bus up the street and waited for the driver and passengers to join her. It would only be a few more minutes until they showed up. As she sat alone in the quiet interior, she looked off into the distance through the windows—no buildings or towers to impede her view. She swore she saw a wolf pass between two trees, but by the time she could focus closely on the movement, it was gone. Hopefully mystery man number two didn’t run into it alone.

  Chapter Three

  The queen was scheduled back in less than a week—too soon. There was another potential threat that needed to be dealt with. During their nightly patrols they caught two young shifters near the palace’s perimeter fence. After a lengthy interrogation, the teens admitted they’d been hired by a wolf to watch the patterns of the Royal Elite. They knew no names or contact information. What could this mystery wolf want from the royal palace? Last time they’d caught a fox shifter sneaking on the property, he’d been hired to kidnap one of the princesses.

  Now things were different. The princesses were all mated to three or more males each. There was no longer a chance to mate with any of them, narrowing down the obvious motive. But this wolf was up to no good, some rebel out for chaos and bloodshed.

  Wesley examined all the secret doorways in the underground tunnels for weaknesses before Alexander joined him.

  “I hear you’re looking for a wolf this time. Any luck?”

  He shook his head. “He wouldn’t happen to be a relative of yours, would he?”

  “If one of my family members was trying to harm my mate, I’d kill them myself.” Alexander walked toward the small Roman column next to Wesley and began to pile his clothes neatly atop it. “What you have is a loose cannon. He’s likely out of joint because he has no chance to bed a princess now that they’re marked.”

  “We’ll find him one way or the other. I’m heading to town to question the regulars. Those kids were supposed to meet the wolf at the bar last night.”

  “Well, you have fun with it. Right now, I need to run.” Alexander nodded once before shifting into his wolf form. The man exercised his beast like clockwork. He’d kept the same routine for the past five years he’d lived at the castle. Now that Delia had returned to take her place as his mate, he continued to run at the same hours. Wesley felt unnerved watching Alexander’s strong, muscular haunches as he tore off through the open fields. Pure strength. Wolves were not shifters to be toyed with. The man they were looking for had to be dangerous.

  And the routines at the palace were too predictable.

  He checked the last doorway and then headed into town to look for clues. One lead was all he needed to get started.

  Wesley scanned the area as he walked along the dirt paths. Normally he’d have one or two other Elites hunting with him, but they were short staffed with the queen and most Elites off the property. She was their priority, her bloodline capable of maintaining all shifter races.

  He shook out his arm, his knuckles still swollen from slamming his fist into the side of an oak last night. Although he’d welcomed the distraction of the melee with the intruders, he still couldn’t wipe Helen’s image from his mind. Now that he was alone in the forest, he had too much time to think.

  He wasn’t a fool. As much as he hated that she was a human female, he couldn’t deny Helen was his mate. Just thinking of her name made his cock hard. Now what? He was an Elite and she was forbidden. All he could do was use his training to ignore his natural desires, stifle them until he was colder than ice.

  As he entered the small town, he noticed a male he didn’t recognize weaving in and out of the perimeter trees. Besides looking suspicious, he was too muscular to be a local b
eta shifter or human. And he was looking for an alpha wolf.

  At this point, everyone was a suspect. He’d forget Helen by focusing all his energy on finding his mark. Wesley slipped into the forest and used this stealth to sneak up on the man. His panther moved with deadly grace, barely shifting a leaf out of place. Not even a wild hare would hear him coming. When he was only a few feet from his target, the man shot around and stood his ground, arms crossed over his chest.

  “A Royal Elite. I should have known.”

  “Who are you?” Wesley demanded.

  “Now you want to know? None of you gave a shit when I lost my mate.”

  Wesley narrowed his eyes, giving the male the once over. It had been years ago, but he still remembered the wolf shifter. It was an emotional case, one he couldn’t easily forget. The wolf had come to the palace demanding the queen take revenge on the human hunters who’d trespassed and killed his mate. He’d been a complete mess. But it wasn’t their place to interfere in affairs of the human world. Maybe he wanted revenge on the royal family for not taking action on his behalf. Maybe he was the wolf they were looking for.

  “Marco, right? It’s been a while.”

  “Years don’t take away the pain, if that’s what you’re thinking. No matter how many people try to tell you so, time doesn’t heal all.”

  “Look, what happened wasn’t the fault of the Elite or the queen. And it was a long time ago. What did you expect us to do? ”

  “Nothing.” Marco whirled away before quickly facing him again. “It wasn’t your place to protect her. It was mine. I’m the one who failed.”

  Wesley wasn’t sure what to make of the wolf. He sounded like a male in mourning, not the mastermind behind a plot to destroy the queen. In fact, he reeked of alcohol and his suffering was palpable. Wesley felt uncomfortable around Marco. He was unable to deal with the heightened emotions the wolf was displaying when he could barely hold onto his own.

  “We’re looking for a wolf that’s targeting the princesses and the queen. Do you know anything about it?”