by Mia Taylor
She signed it with love and a well of emotion bubbled in Vaughan’s gut.
How can she mean that, knowing what I am? How can she feel that way about me?
Another voice in his head told him to shut up, not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Vivian saw something in him, something worth holding onto and he would be a fool to let her go—a third time.
His fingers began to type as fast as they could and without giving himself a chance to change his mind, he hit “send.”
He flopped back on the couch, wondering where they would go from there, the need to have her in his arms almost choking him.
She’s five hours away. Even if we agree to meet, I won’t see her until tomorrow—
Chase growled and Murphy followed suit, both jumping toward the door.
Vaughan didn’t need to check out the window. He knew who it was and he threw open the door as Vivian made her way across the yard.
“Were you sitting out there this whole time?” he asked gruffly. She stopped in front of him, looking up into his eyes.
“So what if I was?” she asked innocently. “Is that a problem?”
“What if I didn’t email back until tomorrow?”
“Then I guess I was sleeping in my car.”
“What if I never emailed back?”
“Then I guess I was camping in your yard until you came to your senses.”
A slow, broad beam formed on Vaughan’s lips but his eyes were filled with sadness.
“I didn’t mean to—”
“We’re done with apologies. We don’t know one another’s last names but we have apologized enough for one lifetime, don’t you think?”
“Well, I have,” Vaughan chuckled. “You might owe me a couple.”
They stared at one another for a long, silent moment.
“Are you going to invite me in?” she asked quietly. “Or are you still deciding?”
“You’re already in,” he told her softly, reaching down to take her hand.
Vivian sprung up and threw herself into his arms, pressing her lips to his and Vaughan felt his body relax. She was precisely where he needed her—safe in his grasp.
When they parted, he brushed a strand of hair from her face.
“I’ll never hurt you,” he swore. “But I’m not always in control of my… abilities.”
Her mouth became a fine line.
“Whatever is happening to you, we will figure out,” she swore. “But Vaughan, I’ve learned some things that you need to know, things about your past.”
He shook his head vehemently.
“I don’t want to talk about my past,” he told her firmly. “Not today.”
Slowly, she nodded in agreement, burying her face in his chest.
“All right,” she whispered. “We’ll only talk about the future today—our future.”
He exhaled, relieved that she understood him so well. He had not been wrong to let her in, despite all his fighting. While he could never have imagined it in a million years, somehow he had found his mate on the side of a mountain.
“No, seriously,” Vivian said, pulling back. “Can I come inside? It’s freezing out here.”
He laughed and nodded, leading her inside.
“Make yourself at home,” he told her. “My cabin is your cabin.”
Epilogue
“Do you think it’s big enough?” Justin asked skeptically, eyeing the cottage. “I feel like there might not be enough bathrooms for two people.”
Vivian snorted and punched her brother in the arm.
“You’re one to talk, Mr. Fifty-Thousand-Square-Foot Mansion. This place is paltry in comparison.”
“This place is beautiful,” Rochelle interjected, looking at it in awe and for a moment, Vivian was brought back to the first time she had seen Vaughan’s cabin on Mt. Rogers.
Their new place had taken a year to build and it was far more remotely set in the back of the Blue Ridge Mountains, two hours from civilization, but it lacked for nothing.
“Are you going to invite Mom and Dad up here?” Justin whispered in his sister’s ear. “They are going to flip their lids.”
“Maybe one day,” Vivian sighed and Vaughan slipped his arm around her waist carefully.
“Maybe after the wedding?” Vaughan teased and Vivian groaned.
“Babe, we just finished the house. I’m going to have to write another book before we can do up a wedding.”
“I’m in no rush,” Vaughan told her jokingly.
“Come on,” Rochelle urged Justin. “I want to look around inside again. I can’t believe this place. You need to build me one.”
“Your wish is my command,” Justin chuckled, leaving the new homeowners outside to admire the stunning log cabin.
The week after they had reconciled, Vivian had insisted that they pack up the only real home that Vaughan had ever known in adulthood and find a new place to live.
“Why?” Vaughan demanded. “This is my home. Murphy and Chase—”
“Will come with us,” Vivian assured him. “But I don’t think you’re safe here anymore, Vaughan. I think that it’s only a matter of time before your secret is exposed and moreover…”
“What?”
“Your biological father is out there looking for you. He knows you’re Kodiak, Vaughan. That’s why there is an Ambrosia office so close. He’s been looking for you for thirty years, you and your brothers. He won’t stop until he finds you and when he does…”
Vivian trailed off.
“We need to get you off this mountain and figure out a way to stop you from roaming around unwittingly at night.”
It had taken Vaughan a long time to process that his real father had been doing horrible things to him and his brothers and through Vivian’s constant digging, her investigative mind unfaltering, they had learned a great deal more about the shady, illegal and underhanded dealings of Daniel Wexley.
But they had no idea what had become of his real mother or brothers.
“We’ll find them one day,” Vivian promised him. “But our first priority is getting you to safety.”
In the end, they had agreed to buy a plot of land and build their dream cabin in the Blue Ridge Mountains while staying with Justin and Rochelle.
Vaughan had been reluctant at first.
“What if your brother learns about my shifting?” he asked worriedly. “What will he do?”
“My brother is a criminal attorney,” Vivian informed him. “We’ll keep him on retainer. He can’t rat you out.”
Their fears had proven unfounded for it seemed that Vaughan’s unconscious shifting had come to an end the minute that Vivian had entered his life.
Vivian had been shocked at how smoothly their lives had gone after leaving Mt. Rogers.
Her parents had been livid at the idea that she might corrupt their perfect son with her debaucherous ways but Justin finally managed to silence them once and for all with a family freeze-out.
“We can talk again when you can be civil to Vivian. She wrote a story that has been shared over a million and a half times. Her piece is so well-written that she’s been commissioned to write a book on all the mountain legends in Virginia. She’s living her dream and you still can’t be happy for her. What else do you guys want from her?”
The freeze-out had lasted six months with Justin cracking first but Vivian was happy to keep her family at a distance, even though they had stopped ridiculing her at every turn.
“What are you thinking about?” Vaughan asked. “You have a funny smile on your face.”
“I’m just thinking about how far we’ve come in a year. Think about how much further we’re going to be a year from now.”
Vaughan stared down into her face lovingly, brushing away her outgrown bob.
“I like you better when I can see your freckles,” he told her. She blushed.
“You just like making fun of my freckles.”
“No,” he replied earnestly. “I just like seeing every pore of your
skin. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you, Vivian.”
Her face melted into a warm, happy smile and she returned his adoring look with one of her own.
“You saved me,” she reminded him. “How could I possibly forget that?”
“You say I saved you but it was really you who saved me,” Vaughan murmured, pulling her in for a kiss. “If I hadn’t found you, I would still be wandering the mountainside with sorrow in my eyes, tormenting the scared souls of Blacksburg.”
Vivian grinned at him and squeezed him tightly.
“Now I’m the only one you torment,” she teased.
“Damn straight, lover. Damn straight.”
Ryker’s Mate
Shifters Forsaken
Book 4
By: Mia Taylor
Prologue
The opulence in which he was surrounded awed the boy, even though it was commonplace. He had lived among fine things since he had been brought to live with the Lucianos well before he was able to form memories.
That didn’t mean that it impressed him any less as the years passed, and to seven-year-old Ryker, this was by far the most lavish party he had ever seen.
He hid in the alcove overlooking the foyer, his light gray eyes widening more with every detail he took in.
His mother had outdone herself with this event, the soft LED lights illuminating the corners and hanging down like garland strands on a Christmas tree in every room on the main floor.
Liveried waitstaff ambled about, serving champagne on silver platters, their expressions ones of stoicism as if they were moving statues and contained no emotions of their own.
If he had been older, he might have appreciated the effort Franca Luciano had taken to make the party seem part of another century. Ryker was sure he had never seen so many finely dressed people in one place, each tuxedoed man almost outdoing the expensively gowned woman on his arm. Jewels glittered blindingly around him and Ryker barely knew which way to look.
“Why are you hiding here?” Bryn asked, plopping at his side uninvited. “Papa won’t care if you go downstairs.”
Ryker cast his older sister a wary look, wondering if she was setting him up again. The notion of going down and being in the middle of all the glitz and glamor was almost overwhelming but he dared not, especially when he’d had instructions not to.
It would be just like Bryn to send me down and get me in trouble. She’d probably tell Papa that she begged me not to go and he might believe her.
“He told us to stay upstairs,” Ryker reminded her. “Why don’t you go downstairs if he won’t mind?”
Bryn shrugged indifferently, tossing her white-blonde hair over her shoulders.
“These parties bore me. I mean, if I was a baby like you, I might still be impressed but I’ve got things to watch on my computer.” She looked at him contemptuously. “One day you might know how to work one if you’re not too busy drooling over Mama and Papa’s friends.”
Ryker scowled. Bryn was twelve and always throwing their age difference in his face even though Ryker sometimes thought she acted exactly like a five-year-old. Her temper tantrums were legendary in the Luciano house.
“I’m going to bed,” Ryker sulked, angry that his sister had ruined the fleeting moment of awe for him. Even if he remained after she left, he was sure her words would still ricochet around in his head and keep him from enjoying the view.
“Suit yourself,” she retorted. “And to think, Papa believes you’re going to run the business someday. You can’t even stay up long enough for a party.”
Ryker stared at her, uncomprehendingly.
“What?”
Bryn snickered, jumping agilely to her feet.
“You are such a dumbass. You have no idea what’s going on around here. It’s not surprising—you’re not really a Luciano. You’re just a charity case Papa and Mama took in. If you were a Luciano, you’d know what’s in your blood.”
Indignation flared in Ryker’s bones. It had never been a secret that he was adopted, but no one but Bryn had ever made him believe he was anything less than family.
“That’s not true! I am every bit as much a Luciano as you!” he shot back. Bryn smiled coldly.
“We’ll see about that,” she laughed. “Time will tell—”
“Bryn! What are you doing here?” Franca demanded, her eyes narrowing with annoyance. “I told you to stay in your room.”
“You told him to stay in his room, too,” Bryn whined, pointing at Ryker. “Why aren’t you yelling at him?”
“Go back to your suite and don’t let me catch you out here again,” Franca snapped, ignoring her protest. “Off to bed with you.”
Fury crossed over Bryn’s face but she seemed to realize the futility in arguing.
“I hate this house,” she spat, storming away. “One day I’ll bring everyone in it down!”
“You better not let your father hear your mouth,” Franca called after her warningly. “You’re not too old for a spanking, Bryn.”
But she was already gone. Ryker wondered if his father would still give her a spanking at the age of twelve. Thinking that he might gave Ryker a smidgen of satisfaction.
His mother sighed heavily and turned to Ryker.
“She’s is a wild child, that one. She reminds me of her grandmother.”
“Your mama?” Ryker asked and Franca nodded.
“She didn’t know her place either. Didn’t end up well for her.”
Ryker wasn’t sure what that meant but it caused a look of sadness to cross over Franca’s perfectly made-up face. She smiled gently at Ryker.
“You shouldn’t be here either,” she chided but her tone was much more tender than it had been with her biological child. “I know these parties are exciting to you, Ryker, but trust me when I tell you to enjoy your innocence while you have it. There will be more parties than you can count in your lifetime.”
Not for the first time, Ryker stared at his mother admiringly, wondering how he had gotten so lucky with a family who adored him. In his wildest imagination, he could not envision his real mother caring for him as much as Mario and Franca Luciano. It was probably why he never thought much about her.
Who cares what happened to the people who left me when I was a baby? This is my real family, no matter what Bryn says!
“I’ll go back to my room, Mama,” he promised her, rising to his feet with the help of her extended hand.
“Good boy, Ryker. You never give me the problems your sister does.”
Franca looked guiltily behind her as though she expected Bryn to be listening but the girl had disappeared, at least from view if not from earshot. Ryker gave her a brief grin.
“That’s because girls are more trouble than boys,” he joked but Franca did not return his smile.
“You have no idea how true that is, Ryker,” she replied quietly. “Boys are much simpler creatures. They say what they want. Women are much more complicated.”
“I’ll remember that, Mama.”
Franca looked embarrassed suddenly and shook her coiffed chignon.
“No,” she told him firmly. “Don’t remember that. Mama has had too much wine tonight. You will remember that women are beautiful creatures who are meant to be adored and loved. If you love fully, you will get love fully in return. Come on, figlio. Off to bed with you now.”
Ryker happily obliged her, quickly darting a kiss onto her cheek and scurrying off before his father caught him disobeying their instructions.
When Ryker entered his room, Bryn was waiting for him, her fair face darkened with ire.
“You don’t belong here,” she hissed at him. “If you were born a girl, you wouldn’t even be here!”
Ryker thought of what his mother had just said about girls.
I pity the man who loves Bryn fully one day.
“I wouldn’t want to be a girl,” he replied, thinking she was joking. “You’re too complicated.”
Oddly, a bemused smile touched Bryn’s lips.
“Or maybe it’s just that men are too stupidly simple,” she retorted, turning to leave him alone. “I guess time will tell that, too.”
Her departure left an uneasy feeling of foreboding in his gut but Ryker was far too young to understand what he was witnessing or why.
Only time would make that clear, too.
Chapter One
Helpless Abandon
A familiar pang of sadness touched Rui’s heart as she glanced at the clock but she willed herself not to show her emotions on her face.
“It’s time to call it, Dr. Granger,” Nurse Reese murmured and Rui bristled at the reminder. She didn’t need anyone telling her how to do her job.
“Time of death, thirteen sixteen,” she murmured, releasing the old man’s wrist from between her fingers. She was careful not to meet Nurse Reese’s eyes and looked to the other nurse at her side hopelessly.
“You did everything you could, Dr. Granger,” Lucille told her gently. Rui loathed that the woman knew her so well. She wished she did not display her emotions so clearly on her face.
“Yes, of course I did,” she snapped. “I’ll notify the family.”
She turned away from the room, Carson Birling’s corpse in her peripheral vision. His death had been inevitable when he had signed a DNR order only two days before. Rui couldn’t fault the man for being sick of living, not when he had been struggled to breathe for almost six months. He had been brought back three times and he’d finally had enough.
It had been Carson’s choice and Rui knew she had to respect it, but that didn’t mean it made her happy. Her oath was to do no harm, to help anyone, without judgment. Sitting back and letting the man die was not in Rui’s bones.
She made her way to the nurses’ station and sat laboriously on a chair, trying to compose herself before making the dreaded call which she was sure Mrs. Birling was expecting.
They were together for fifty-two years. How is she supposed to go on without him now? You can’t live with someone that long and not consider it a devastating loss.
“Do you want me to call the wife?” Lucille asked and Rui grunted silently. She wished the nurse hadn’t followed her.