Alpha Returned: A Rejected Mates Reverse Harem Shifter Series (Feral Mates Book 3)

by Sabrina Thatcher

  The whole place is staffed by incubi and succubi, creatures far more gorgeous than any of their human counterparts. There are colorfully lit cages hanging from the ceiling, just out of reach of the dance floor, and inside each one is one of these demons clothed only where they are legally required to. All around the club I can see cocktail waiters and waitresses, barely dressed, their bodies and beauty on display, all of them sought out by the desirous customers.

  The breathtakingly beautiful maitre d’ greets us with a low bow and leads us through a throng of excited onlookers to a private table in a secluded area of the upstairs gallery, looking down on everyone.

  We’re seated at a table with the guard standing conspicuously nearby; not where we’d be blocked from view of the patrons, like a king and queen on high before the royal court, but still visible for this area to be marked out as our own special place.

  This is my first time out of the compound since I arrived, and the juxtaposition between the quiet—if militant—compound and here is overwhelming to say the least. At least I’ve had some time to get my shifter senses in check. A month ago, I would be curled up in a ball with my hands clapped over my ears just to try and tune out some of the turmoil of emotions.

  “Send up our best champagne, and the special menu, and send Alore to me,” Rylan tells the maitre d’ as soon as we’re settled in. The man nods and disappears.

  Rylan looks at me and smiles a little. “What do you think of my place?”

  “This is your club?” I ask, not at all surprised. I think the question ruffles Rylan a little bit—just as I hoped.

  “Yes. Do you like it?” He wraps his arm around the back of the seat behind me, just over my shoulders, and begins to rub his fingertip lightly on the side of my upper arm.

  I pull my arm away from him and he frowns at me.

  “It’s loud and vulgar,” I reply simply.

  Rylan narrows his eyes at me and brings his arm back to his side, looking out at the crowd.

  Moments later, champagne and a stunning meal are brought to the table. I take the champagne, hoping I can drown my misery in it. A woman arrives with the meal. She is the single most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and she, like every other employee in the place, is a demon.

  Rylan gazes coolly up at her.

  “How’s business tonight?”

  She gives him a pleasant smile. “Everyone is sold, just like every night.”

  I freeze. I know I must have heard her wrong. I stare at her, but she doesn’t look away from him.

  “Let our best clients know that I’m hosting a private party on the yacht tonight. They can seek out the best pleasure there, for $50,000 apiece.”

  “Right away, sir.”

  She turns to go, but as she does, she meets my eyes for a split second, and I see something that looks like gratitude, though it’s so fast that I might well be mistaken.

  “Did … did she say sold?” I ask, feeling a well of hatred roil up inside of me.

  “Yes,” Rylan answers simply. “I own all the demons in here. Each one of them is sold to clients who wish to have sex with them. The demons are allowed to eat part of the client’s souls, but not in their entirety; I don’t want a bad reputation. I make a good deal of money, the clients get what they want, and my demons get fed. It’s just enough to keep them going so they’re never fully satisfied, but neither are they left to starve. It works like a well-oiled machine. Other might see it as parasitic … but I see it as symbiotic. We all benefit here.”

  He’s proud of himself, as he always seems to be. I can see that it’s all about power and fortune for him; about ownership. I can easily see that he believes I should be completely impressed with what he’s doing.

  The psychopath.

  “Is this your only club?” I ask, already knowing that answer.

  He scoffs. “Not by a long shot.” Leaning so close to my ear that I can feel his lips on my skin, he whispers, “I own fifty clubs that operate just like this. Each one is just a little different. Each one gives the clientele exactly what they want.”

  With those last words, I feel his left hand on my knee, and it begins to move slowly up my inner thigh. Despite myself, heat pools between my legs at the touch of him, the scent of him, that flash of excitement in his dark eyes so close to mine. My breath catches and I cross my legs immediately. He chuckles, leaning back against the seat of our booth again.

  “You’re right. Somewhere else.” He hands me another glass of champagne and I scowl darkly.

  We don’t stay long. I notice that even though he ordered the best there was from the kitchen, and a great deal of it, he eats nothing. The extraordinary meal is there to impress other people, not for him to nourish himself with. He’s wasteful; not even one bite.

  Wanting to be as different from him as I can be, I eat some of the seafood, and part of a fancy chocolate dessert with red fruit. I’m about to eat more when Rylan gives me a disapproving look.

  “We’re leaving.”

  I say nothing, but stand and tug at my dress, trying to make it cover as much of myself as I can. Sergei moves to stand beside me, blocking me from the view of people who are straining to get a look. Rylan takes my arm and guides me out of the club with a strong grasp. He pauses at the door where the beautiful succubi Alore is waiting for him.

  “Are we booked for the yacht?” He eyes her seriously.

  “Fully.” She nods, and he turns to leave. She gives me a momentary nod, and I see the look again. It is gratitude. I can smell it. I smile at her, and we leave, ushered directly back into the SUV as cameras go off all around us like wildfire.

  Next, we go to an enormous yacht parked in a private marina. There’s a party going on as we board, and as Rylan reaches the deck, wealthy men and women approach him to shake his hand; all of them grinning at him, pandering to him, and thanking him as they haul their demons around, disappearing into dark corners all over the yacht for lustful trysts. I pity the humans in part. They’ll lose some of their souls, and they have no idea. I can only find some small comfort in the fact that the demons have no appetite for souls that aren’t wicked; souls which would be going to hell, anyway.

  Though I do have a feeling most of these guests are as wicked as they come.

  Rylan takes me to his private stateroom, and Sergei refuses to look at me as we enter the room and he stands guard. The base of my spine tingles, and it’s all I can do to keep panic from setting in.

  Once the door is closed, he turns to face me.

  “Take a seat. I want to talk to you.”

  Dread forms a heavy knot in my stomach. “Is this about what happened in your chambers?” I’ve been waiting for this. He was so angry, I doubt he could let it go.

  He watches me in silence for a moment.

  “We’re not going to talk about that. I told you never to do it again, and you’re going to listen to me and never do it again, so we don’t need to talk about it.”

  I’m surprised, but I don’t let it show on my face. “What would you like to discuss then?” I ask without any emotion.

  “I want to get to know you. I want you to tell me your history and how you came to be a wolf shifter.”

  I narrow my eyes slightly. “I’m fairly confident that you already know all that.”

  He only watches me as he pours each of us a drink. He hands one to me.

  “I’d like to hear it from you. You might think me a cold-hearted bastard … and maybe I am one, but if you’re to be my queen, I’d rather us not be complete strangers at least.”

  I swallow hard. I know he can hear my heart as it begins to race. I take a long pull from the tumbler and a deep breath.

  “I was an orphan all of my life. I had a lousy boyfriend, and at first, I thought he was my saving grace, but then I learned the hard way that he was just a jerk, using me for his own benefit. Luckily, I walked out of the door of his bar and was accidentally bitten by Roman—but everything after that you already know. For the first time in my li
fe, I had a family. It means everything to me, and I would do anything to protect it.”

  I’m not giving him any more than that. He doesn’t need to know everything about me. He already knows everything he really wants to know.

  Rylan nods for a moment, and then sets his drink down and walks over to me where I’m sitting in a cushy, cobalt blue chair. The whole room is done in cobalt blue and highly polished dark wood.

  He takes my hands and brings me to my feet, standing right in front of me. My heart begins to beat faster. He gazes into my eyes, and his voice is low.

  “You may have been an orphan before, but you are about to become a queen. That position comes with power, but you are never to forget that you are mine, and you will obey me and do as I please, or there will be significant consequences. I have no problem killing anyone you care about.”

  His words are blunt and unfeeling. I shouldn’t be shocked, shouldn’t be affronted, but I still am. After all … how could I not be?

  “If you want me to do anything you say, you will respect me and leave my loved ones alone. If anything ever happens to a single one of them, I will never speak to you again; marriage or not.”

  My tone is even, and my voice is earnest. The message is straight from my heart, and I mean it. He can sense that.

  A slow smile touches the corners of his mouth.

  “I like that about you … the fire in you. You’re a wild thing, strong and independent. You’ll make a good match for me. I can see why the universe fated us.”

  He draws nearer to me, and I can smell the hunger on him. It’s intoxicating … the scent of his pheromones. I close my eyes and will myself not to breathe them in, because they only make it worse.

  Rylan chuckles softly and brings his mouth to my ear, murmuring into it as his fingers move up the bare skin on my back, where my dress leaves nothing to the imagination.

  “Give in to it …” he whispers softly. “Give in to me. I can smell you, little wolf, and I know you want me, too. I can taste your desire in the air. Let your guard down and surrender to what your body longs for. I will give you what you need. It’s so easy … just let go of your inhibitions.”

  His lips close over the flesh on my neck, and he begins to suck softly as his fingers move over my back, and then down to my hips. He pulls me snug against him as his lips hungrily find their way to mine, and he opens my mouth with his, tasting me slowly, intently, deeply.

  My mind is alight with anger, frustration, and confusion. I cannot understand how someone I detest and do not love can make my body feel as if it is being consumed with such intense desire. I’m unable to deny it anymore. His very touch leaves me burning, needing more, and my breath grows shallow and short as he pulls me against him.

  I can feel him; hardened with his own need as his fingers slip beneath the hem of my dress, sliding up my leg.

  I find myself kissing him in return, wrapping my arms around his neck and drawing him nearer to me. There is an almost unquenchable desire between us. My feet leave the floor, and in the next moment I am lying back in his bed. His mouth leaves mine, trailing ravenously down my neck to the soft upper curves of my chest as his fingertips slide beneath the side of my thong. He’s going to pull it off; I can feel him press firmly against me, groaning with need.

  The bond between us makes me want so much to feel him in me, to be satisfied by him, but something in me pushes back against it.

  There’s a hollow in me that I know he cannot fill, hormones be damned. I do not love this man. I want him, there’s no denying that, at least in this moment, but I do not love him, and I cannot let this go further.

  Not Rylan.

  Never Rylan.

  Gasping for air, I push myself out from beneath him and scoot off of the bed. He comes right after me, pulling me back to him again.

  “What are you doing? Why are you stopping?” he gasps breathily. “I know you want me every bit as much as I want you. It’s part of being a fated mate.”

  I yank myself free of him. “Not before the wedding night. I want to do this right. We’ll be together on our wedding night, and not before.”

  I cross my arms and stride to the door, turning to look at him. He groans and slumps back against the headboard of his bed.

  “You’re going to make me wait.”

  I nod, unrelenting. “I am.”

  I’m surprised when he only chuckles.

  “Fine then. We will wait. It’s only going to make me want you more.”

  With a desirous gaze lingering over all of me, he finally rearranges his clothes and comes to the door. “We’re meant to be together for life. That’s what the mark on our necks means; fated mates for life. I will have you more times than you can count. What’s a little waiting when there’re centuries still left ahead of us?”

  He stands right before me and takes my face into his hands, lifting my chin and then pressing his lips to mine. His kiss is warm, hungry, and as his tongue invades my mouth again, my breath is caught in me once more, my body aching with a near-supernatural need.

  “Can’t you feel it?” he whispers against my lips, sucking on them and the tip of my tongue, “Doesn’t it burn you up from the inside out, searing you with need for me?”

  My body trembles in his arms. I moan softly, and he kisses me deeper, but I pull my mouth free of his and pant breathlessly.

  “After the wedding,” I insist.

  He sighs, dropping his hands and letting me go. “Very well.”

  Rylan pulls the door open sharply and we leave, Sergei right behind us. With any luck, I can put him off until I can get the flower and do what I most want to do. I may not be able to cool the desire I have for him when he’s beside me … but I’m not so taken with him that I’ll lose focus of my mission.

  The flower must come, and I will do what has to be done.

  Between now and then, I’ll do all that I can to mask my true intentions.

  Rylan lets me go reluctantly at the door to my chambers and turns to Sergei, who’s standing at attention behind him. “Bring the servant in.”

  Sergei motions to one of the other guards, and Kera is brought forcibly in through the doorway. Sergei holds her upper arms, keeping her in place as she stands before Rylan.

  I freeze, trying not to let fear overwhelm my emotions. Kera, meanwhile, stands wide-eyed and terrified in Sergei’s arms.

  Rylan’s fingertips glide down my cheek, and then to the side of my breast, tracing the curve there before dropping away from me altogether.

  “When you give yourself to me in our ceremony, you will give yourself to me completely; wholly, and solely. I will not stand for insubordination or betrayal.”

  His voice is cool, something in it sends a shiver throughout my body.

  Rylan steps toward Kera and lifts his hand high in the air. His hand transforms into a massive claw, and with one downward angled swipe, he shreds her neck.

  I scream at the top of my lungs as blood splatters the ground, the ceiling, me. I see the light leave her eyes.

  And just like that, she is gone, forever.

  Rylan turns to me and I have to lift my tear-stained face to stare into his eyes.

  “There will be no more secret messages. If Roman, Teague, and Elon ever return to this compound, they will be killed on sight. You are never to see them again. When you marry me, you will be mine, and mine alone. Do you understand me?”

  I am weeping horribly; my body shaking. All I can do is nod.

  “Now, kiss me.”

  It’s not a request. It’s an order. He brings his mouth to my lips and drives his tongue inward, twisting it around mine. It is not a passionate kiss. It is a declaration of ownership. I kiss him in return, giving him what he expects, and then he pulls his mouth from mine, glaring at me, and leaves.

  All I taste is my own bile.

  As the door closes behind him, I vow to myself and to Kera that I will kill him.

  And I will not regret it. Not for an instant.

  Ch
apter Twelve

  I lock the door and run to my bedroom. The letter from the boys is almost all I can think about right now. My heart aches for them—and for my poor dear Kera. I feel so torn about everything that’s happening, and I don’t really know what to do with it all. I wish I had answers. I wish I had someone to talk to and to ask for advice.

  I’ve been trapped in this place for weeks, a mess of trying to keep my emotions in check and hidden from the crowd of shifters constantly surrounding me. I’ve been witness to countless cruelties, and somehow … somehow, I know this is just the beginning.

  I still get the impression that Rylan and every other vicious shifter in here is holding back. For me.

  At least until the impending wedding.

  After that … after that I’m sure the facade will crumble and I’ll begin to see the ugly face of this place in full. I’m not looking forward to that day.

  Nor the night before it.

  Even if my body responds to Rylan each time he’s near me. That stupid, stupid bond between us. It’s a cruel fate that bound us together. One that I can’t understand. Not when the bond was given by the same goddess—at least I’m assuming—that’s now told me to poison that same mate she fated me to.

  What does she want, really? Or is this all in my head? Is all of it in my head?

  I don’t know anymore.

  I’d grown used to not being alone anymore in the two short months since Roman turned me. The perspectives of Isla, from Roman, Teague, and Elon—they’d become invaluable to me. To be able to weigh my own thoughts and judgments against them, especially when it comes to wolf things because there’s still so much that I don’t know, so much I have yet to learn … I’d taken it all for granted.

  Now all I wish is that I could ask them again. That I could get more guidance.

  I’m lost at sea again, left afloat in the middle of this sea of grass and mangroves in the middle of nowhere, struggling to make sense of this new word that only grows stranger by the day.