Table of Contents
The Wolf & The Pretender
Copy Right
Get in Touch
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
From the desk of…
Other Books by the Author
The Wolf & The Pretender
Book 3
Series: Werewolves & Mates
By
Serena Simpson
Copy Right
The Wolf & The Pretender- Werewolves & Mates - Copyright © August 2019, 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 Peri Wolford
Published by Serena Simpson
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Chapter One
Phony!
Fake!
Fraud!
Keva didn’t pay any attention to the insults being hurled at her. It was all part of the show whether the audience knew it or not.
She was sitting on a stage done up in garish red and gold the colors she had picked out for her act. The mythical, the magical pretender. If you hummed it just right, it would remind you of the very old show The Nanny and The Professor. How’s that for shows done in black and white? Keva eyed the too tan man, he was secretly filming the show though no cameras were allowed. That was for her safety.
He wanted a show. She was going to give him one.
“Something is coming to me I feel it in the air.” She turned her head slowly from side to side. The long ribbons coming from her turban starting to sway as the wind picked up. “Yes, I can feel you. Quiet,” she hushed her audience, they were looking at her with large eyes.
“Someone has been a naughty boy breaking the rules. She peered out over them, is it you?” She pointed to an older gentleman who almost broke his neck shaking his head no.
“No, it’s not you, you’re a good boy. Who could it be?” Slowly she began to rise from the floor where she was sitting with her legs crossed.
There were gasps as the audience watched her. Someone usually a man or a jealous woman murmured about the ropes holding her breaking since she was so heavy. Ignoring them was part of what she did. Today she pushed the envelope, instead of just going straight up she floated to the edge of the stage.
“How can she do that?”
“Did you know she could do that?”
“This was never in any of the articles I read about her.”
“If only I could get my hands on her tech, I’d be rich.”
Sadly, he was right. The great magicians did it all the time. When you were a man, they believed it was a sleight of hand when you were a woman, they called you a witch.
She focused on the man who was much too tan for this climate. “Is it you?”
He pointed to himself with a shake of his head.
“Are you breaking the rules? Taping when you know no taping is allowed?”
“That’s preposterous.”
“Shall we find out?” She held up her hands showing that there were no wires attached to them. Then she ran each hand over her head in small and wide circles proving that there were no wires. Finally, she lowered her hands and began to move them in intricate rhythms. This is what the crowd paid for, and the price was steep. A small gold thread of energy came from her hand slowly to mix with the red energy swirling around her. When she collected enough of it, she threw it at the crowd.
The energy field followed her silent directions speeding for the man who had to be a journalist. When it reached him, it hovered over him before exploding around him like fireworks. When the energy field came back together inside of it was an expensive camera.
“That’s mine,” he shouted, “you can’t take my camera.”
“Naughty boy,” she chided. The whole room broke into applause and laughter.
“Naughty boy,” they repeated after her.
Keva finished the show with the audience in the palm of her hands. She collected things like wallets and other trinkets. All would be given back at the end of the show untouched, except the camera. It was in perfect working order, but the film was blank, she got it before he was able to upload it to his phone.
She stood, when the room was silent, she lifted into the air and performed a perfect curtsy before leaving the stage.
When she made it to the room backstage she collapsed. The energy used to do her show was enormous, but it’s what paid the bills as well as kept her from being viewed as a freak of nature.
“That was an awesome show, they are raving about you. I have two openings next month I’d like to schedule you for,” Kelly was the manager. She proclaimed to be besties with Keva. In reality, she was a jealous B who would stab her in the back the first chance she got.
“I can’t do it.” She worked this joint four times a year and no more. She never made more than one appearance a month and tried to keep it to every other month if possible. The more money her shows made the less she needed to show her face.
“I made you and I need you to be here. I made promises.”
“Break them. Oh, you did not make me. I did it with hard work and sweat, lots of it. You turned me away as a flea-bitten beggar who couldn’t pull a rabbit out of a hat. Should I replay the scene?” She didn’t have the energy to replay the scene, but she’d dig into her reserves if she needed to.
“That was then, this is now.”
“And the answer is still no. I will do the prearranged shows and no more. If you want to renegotiate our agreement, you can do that when the contract is up.”
“I always knew you didn’t care about anyone but yourself. You take that black empowerment schtick too far.”
“The fact that you believe a black person sticking up for themselves is a gimmick shows me who you are. I agree at the end of the contract we will renegotiate.” That was code for she would never step foot in here again. She might have to work harder to replace the income she made here, but it would be worth it.
When Kelly left, she allowed herself to sink down in the chair trying to draw some of the energy she lost back to herself. After washing her face cleaning off all the garish makeup, she took off the extra-long eyelashes. Why was it necessary to wear eyelashes long enough to cause their own breeze? She grumbled to herself. Then came the robes. Seriousl
y why couldn’t she perform in jeans like the greats at least a nice dress? Technically she was wearing jeans they were just underneath the awful robe.
When her props were packed. What was a show without props? She packed her small carrier and rolled it behind her as she left the room. She gave a sigh of contentment when a small breeze caressed her face despite how hot it was.
“Going somewhere?”
“Troy,” a genuine smile touched her lips when she saw him. “Tired, thinking of going to bed and not moving for three days.”
“Sounds like I should take you to dinner first.”
“Oh, Troy that feels so good,” she followed it up with a moan like it was the best sex experience of her life. Several people walking by gave her the evil eye while Troy laughed.
“Come on troublemaker, I’ll give you a lift.”
“Seriously, Troy how do you do that?” He collected the energy she let go and redirected it to her body. That meant her recovery time would be cut in half maybe more.
“Wait,” she lifted a hand. “If you are going to lecture me, you have to feed me first.”
“One steak coming up with a side of carbs.”
She didn’t waste her time protesting. When you used the energy, your body made, one of the ways you got a jump start on replenishing it was with food and as much as she loved vegetables and they were life-giving yadda yadda, she needed more.
Right now, she could drink a gallon of water followed by a gallon of Gatorade or something with the same electrolytes in it.
Troy took her to their favorite steak house.
“I love this place.”
“I know,” he gestured to her water. He knew she had to drink to replenish the fluid she used in her act.
They ordered dinner and started with small talk.
“How did you know I needed you today? Well, I needed someone I was about to blow after that conversation with Kelly.”
“I keep telling you to end it. You don’t need that gig.”
“It’s a job, not a gig. I need money like the rest of the world.”
“Do you?”
“Not arguing with you.”
“What you need is a man.”
“I am woman hear me roar! I don’t need a man.” She settled down when she realized the other tables were looking at her. A flush heated her dark skin.
“What if you each took care of the other?”
“This isn’t a musical where everyone has a happy ending.”
“You mean like Mary Poppins where she was dragged away from the kids she loved?”
Keva stared at him, at least he didn’t say Jesus Christ Superstar. She had seen that musical done with a cast of young kids and teens live, the movies couldn’t hold a candle to how it enthralled her.
“What about Rent, The Sound of Music, Grease?”
“Those are good too, I suppose,” he shrugged trying not to laugh.
It took everything she had not to bang her head on the table. With a deep sigh, she picked up a piece of bread and butter. This time she let out a real moan, she was starving.
The waitress brought their food, after checking on their drinks she left them alone to eat. Keva took her first bite and rolled her eyes to the back of her head. It was part of the act that she mastered.
“All right, the steaks perfect and now you can preach.” She took another bite and chewed as she waited for his well-rehearsed dialogue.
“You need an anchor.”
She cocked an eye looking at him.
“Hear me out,” he held up a hand. “Not any anchor, but a mate. The one that was meant to be yours before the building blocks of the earth formed.
“You do understand romance.”
“I may have invented it.”
“Do tell Father Time.”
He chuckled and took a bite of his food. “You can’t keep losing energy like that, you’re not getting any younger.”
That she couldn’t argue with. The massive energy loss was beginning to take its toll on her body. If she didn’t find a way to streamline her shows or recapture her energy, she was going to have to stop doing this. Not that the thought made her sad. It was hard to entertain people when you knew they were talking about you.
“A mate who is your anchor would stop the drain of energy. When you use it, it will return to you. There would still be the effects of being tired but not to this degree. Whenever you use a considerable amount of energy, it will leave you tired.”
She never really thought of a serious relationship. Her best friend found someone; she was happy the last time they talked.
“I don’t know.” She could use that same dating service Ava used, still…
“Let’s be real Troy. I’m messed up. Who would want a woman like me? Especially if they knew what I could do to them.”
“You’re right, who would want a beautiful woman with flawless skin and eyes so deep they look like bronze pools? Most days you’re self-confident, you’re a go-getter who has taken care of herself since she was thirteen. I’d rather have someone else.”
“You know what I mean,” she leaned over and smacked his arm.
“There is someone for everyone Keva, all I’m asking is that you keep your eyes open. Don’t let him slip away just because.”
She took the time to examine his face. Troy was serious, she didn’t know why, but she was going to listen this time. Something in her life needed to break. As much as she loved cats, she didn’t want to become an old cat lady with no one to love her. She lifted her glass of water and toasted to the future.
Chapter Two
Kayden sprawled on the couch in the living room, things had been easy since the night they dealt a blow to the Shadows. It was the first major victory they could claim. He wasn’t whining about the calm; it was all the love in the air. He was happy for Tristan and Locke, their happiness shone a stark light on his life. There was no love in the air for him. He knew the others were on high alert. They expected any minute their mate would bounce through the door all thick, round, and mouth-wateringly delightful.
He hoped that was the case for them; they were all men of honor, valor, and integrity. He didn’t hold out such hopes for himself. Could he be an anchor? Not with his damaged mind. There were secrets in his closet. What did the humans call them? Skeletons? There were so many skeletons in his closet, many of them real. Enigma One were cold-blooded killers. They never talked about the past or why they spent so much time in the earth. Could it be that no one except him dealt with the horror they were exposed too? He didn’t think that was the case, his brothers, his team dealt with it better because they weren’t broken like him. That’s what he told himself, anyway. It made it easier for him to get through the day if he thought he was the only one suffering.
It gave him hope for the rest of his team. Locke was the lucky one his mate came first. He didn’t have time to dip into the reasons he didn’t deserve one. His thoughts didn’t fester and boil, again this is what he thought not what he knew.
“Have you taken a bath?” Ven wrinkled his nose like he was the one sitting in funk. “No, you haven’t.” He answered his own question. “Go bathe, now.”
Kayden dragged his body up. He was taking orders from the youngest Kur’ik, it was yet another sign that his mind was broken. He wasn’t the youngest, they had several children at the main camp but none of them lived here. He briefly thought about arguing, but some things weren’t worth it. He gave a shrug of not caring and walked to his room. Not a room, his suite. Several rooms with a large en-suite and a walk-in closet of all things. The largeness of the house was one of the reasons they bought it, the second was the remoteness of the location. Traffic out here was practically non-existent, that fit their needs. When you changed into a twelve-foot-tall werewolf privacy was a must.
How did the Thalians maintain their sanity when they needed to change into their natural form? Many thought the humanoid shape was their natural form, it wasn’t, they were werewolves at their core. It w
as one of the things that were different between them and borns. Borns were natural Kur’iks that came from a female body. Their makers reverse engineered Kayden and the rest of their kind to make them warriors, good for nothing but fighting and dying.
The cold water shocked his system bringing him out of the malaise that was haunting. When he was sure he was in control of his mind, he turned the water to hot and got around to cleaning himself.
He dressed in a black tee that complimented the grayness of his skin not that he noticed and a pair of jeans that flattered his rear and gripped his package showing it off. Those things went unnoticed as well.
“Did I miss lunch?”
“You did,” Ven was putting the leftovers in the fridge.
“I’ll just heat something up.”
“There’s nothing here to heat up.” Ven closed the refrigerator then leaned against it giving Kayden a serene look.
“I love you Ven, like a baby brother but there are days I don’t understand you.” He grabbed a set of keys they kept on hooks in the kitchen. He went out the backdoor pressing on the fob to see what vehicle he was taking. The lights on the dark blue SUV flashed. He got in mumbling about brothers and Kur’iks.
He turned on the radio letting it cut through any thoughts that would keep him from concentrating. The parking lot to his favorite restaurant was surprisingly full. That couldn’t be good. There were people waiting around the door.
“There’s a thirty-minute wait,” the waitress told him before he could open his mouth.
That wouldn’t do. He was about to walk out when he spotted someone sitting alone toying with her menu like she was unable to decide.
“I’m with the beauty sitting alone. I believe she has been waiting for me.”
The waitress ran her eyes over his tee which showed off his muscles, his arms well defined in the short sleeves. Then her eyes ran over his torso making several trips down to the bulge in his pants.
“Why would you date that? Is it a pity date? Are you checking off your bucket list? Screw a black female? On top of that, she’s fat.”
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