Mated to the Chaos (Portal City Protectors Book 5)

by Georgette St. Clair

  Mated

  to the

  CHAOS

  GEORGETTE ST. CLAIR

  LETEISHA NEWTON

  Mated to the Chaos (Portal City Protectors Book 5)

  Copyright © 2020 Georgette St. Clair and LeTeisha Newton

  Editing – Tiffany Fox; Beyond DEF

  Cover design – LeTeisha Newton; Beyond DEF

  Formatting – Beyond DEF

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information, contact the publisher.

  Beyond DEF

  https://www.beyonddeflit.com

  info@beyonddeflit.com

  THE PORTAL CITY PROTECTORS SERIES

  MATED TO THE CAPO

  MATED TO THE ENFORCER

  MATED TO THE PRINCE

  FATED TO THE TRAITOR

  MATED TO THE CHAOS

  MATED TO THE MOON

  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

  Epilogue

  About the Authors

  Chapter One

  His balls hurt … again.

  Carlo groaned, trying his hardest not to cup the aching home of his future children as tinkering laughter filled the air.

  Rosemary’s fucking baby.

  Arturo’s greatest treasure, his granddaughter and heir to the Moretti and Lombardi Packs, Isadora was no longer growing from the wealth of life magic within her. Silva and Ash had done their job by stopping the now three-year-old from aging quicker than her body could handle. However, that didn’t stop her from maintaining what she’d already received.

  Carlo scanned the space around him and had to look much higher than he expected. In a flash, the intelligent beyond her years, six-year-old-sized, born alpha female was perched on a bookcase and launched herself at him between blinks. He was lucky to leap out of the way in time but slammed into a coffee table, stubbing his little toe.

  He counted the ways he wanted to rip up the fucking world and burn it to ashes as the worst pain he’d ever felt brought tears to his eyes and a bellow from his throat. Isadora giggled, slid in for another crotch punch, and raced off.

  “That’s twenty points!”

  Carlo was going to kill Silva; he was already plotting the many ways she would die. Not really, but it was a fun thought. The Fae Queen was determined to corrupt Isadora any way she could—it didn’t matter what it was. Carlo, for one, was done playing battered babysitter. He rolled his shoulders, trying the ease the ever-present ache between his legs. Isadora, thankfully, had switched to playing with her grandfather, making the wolf laugh at something Carlo couldn’t see.

  Just to hear Arturo, a violent, unfeeling bastard to his core—the only chink in his armor being those closest to him—laugh with no care … It was awe-inspiring. The world around them was changing. There were more than just shifters and mages. Encantado was now home to Fae, had the Ales—one of the oldest mage bloodlines and the new leader of the Trinity Council—in Kalinda, and the Norns lived in the Chaos Realm.

  He didn’t give a shit that Heath called it the In Between. That horrible, cold, and vicious place would always be the Chaos Realm to Carlo. A shiver raced up his spine, and he ran his hands through the cool, thick strands of his hair.

  Wailing pulsed in his head, a piercing call clanging against his skull until he gritted his teeth.

  Don’t listen.

  Try as he might, he couldn’t ignore the memory of that sound. The way it ripped at him, pulled at his mind until he fractured and split to save him. How he lost himself to the screeching. The taunting laughter whispering to him about his failures every time.

  The Fury is coming.

  No!

  Carlo couldn’t think about that, the way it had destroyed his mind, twisting him until he was nothing more than a bumbling idiot only able to attack on command.

  At Ottavio’s command, his own fucking brother.

  There were two ways to create a wolf shifter. They either were Born wolves or created through a bite—a Made wolf. A Born wolf didn’t have to fear their first shift. It was like breathing for them. The moon was their sanctuary, and they didn’t have to wait for a full one to enjoy it. For those who were turned like Carlo was by Arturo, they had to hope they were strong enough to survive the initial bite, and then their first shift on the next full moon. Most didn’t survive. Out of a hundred Made, maybe twenty-five became a wolf. Carlo’s transformation had gone smoothly, or so everyone thought, until that first shift. Dark, twisting Chaos had come in, pulsing through his veins in greedy need until he’d splintered apart.

  It never should have happened. The Chaos had no place in a shifter’s transformation. It should have been nothing but his human body rebelling the change to his very cells as he became something more. Faster, stronger, living for much longer than humans could hope for. Except, it seemed, he’d received an extra dose of something, and it nearly made his long life unimaginable.

  Carlo growled, pushing away thoughts of the hell he suffered. Instead, he focused more on his surroundings. Sucking in a deep, information-rich breath, he focused on what he could. Now that he was free from watching over Isadora, he could get some work done. Not that he didn’t love the child—he did, just like everyone else—but she had a viciousness about her only Eiravel and Cynes seemed to be able to handle.

  Snort.

  Yeah, Dominic still had his manties in a twist over the fact his daughter was tied to the Unseelie males. The way they’d attached to her was like a wolf imprinting on its mate. Though, as much as Dominic hated to admit it, he’d confessed how much enjoyed the way they immediately went into protection mode when anything threatened Isadora. At this very moment, the men were downstairs in Arturo’s mansion, waiting to take her home when she was ready.

  Carlo’s footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor as each step took him closer to his bedroom—where she invaded his senses most. He knew of her. Couldn’t deny his wolf deep inside him that drove him to go to her. To claim her. Own her. Even now he couldn’t deny his incessant need to be closer to the place she’d first come to him.

  He hated it.

  “Come to me.”

  “No,” he growled. Yes …

  He wanted more than anything to say yes, but he refused. Not for her. Never for her.

  “You can’t fight this, wolf. No matter how much you try.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  He ripped his shirt over his head, his body heating just from hearing her voice. He refused to ask her name, to pull her any closer. Warm honey and cinnamon assaulted his nose, filling him until the scent soaked into his cells. It made him think of slick silk shee
ts, sultry nights, and mating.

  It tickled at the edges of his memories—memories he didn’t want to face.

  “Leave me be, witch.”

  “I’m no witch.”

  No, Zahara was a witch, in the truest sense of the word. Isadora had that blood too. Carlo didn’t want to acknowledge what she was. That voice. His … mate.

  Opening his slacks with deft fingers, he shredded the expensive material in his haste. His tongue grew thick in his mouth, his canines bursting through his gums, aching for relief. It was always the same each day, every fucking moment he didn’t go to her.

  But he couldn’t.

  Never.

  “Please.”

  Carlo closed his eyes, reaching for his wolf, for the change to protect him, to help him. The wolf’s natural instinct would have been to run to her, but with him closed in his bedroom, his wolf couldn’t give in to that need. The hatred. He’d only have to deal with the drive, and that he could push down. He hadn’t left the doors or windows open to get outside, and he was trapped here.

  “Did you ever think there was a reason Chaos touched you?”

  He snarled and snapped his teeth together. Fuck. No. Chaos had destroyed him, mixed him up until he’d forgotten who he was. It left him tethered to the murderous intent of Ottavio and his plot with Luigi to overthrow Arturo because he’d been so terrified of his own mind. He hadn’t been able to hear Arturo’s pleas or find a chance to free himself.

  Carlo hadn’t remembered family or emotions. He’d known nothing but the mindless slide into rage or desire, twisted until he only fought or fucked. And now? He couldn’t risk it. His second touch with Chaos had brought him back to who he once was, and he couldn’t risk losing himself again.

  Not even for her.

  “All is not what it seems. Things had to happen, Carlo. You must believe me.”

  Lowering to the floor in a trembling mass of need, his wolf whimpered at the sound of his name on her tongue. He had to go, had to get away from her and the temptation she presented. She would be his downfall.

  What kind of luck did he have that the one woman made for him would be what he hated most?

  “You don’t hate me. You fear yourself. Fear what was bestowed on you.”

  Bestowed? Bestowed?

  Carlo’s wolf went wild, tearing through his room. Teeth and claws ripped through anything close to him. The world faded to a red haze of remembered agony, fear, and rage. He’d never go back there. He’d die first, no matter what the fuck happened. His chest heaved as he dug at his bed, stripping it of its foam and coil guts.

  Just like him. Ripped open. Exposed. She knew what Chaos had done to him. She had to. She was Chaos, part of it. He could taste it along with her scent. He knew she was as much a part of it as it was of her.

  Ancient magic, the fount of it. She was a Mage, in the truest sense of the word. Zoey, Kalinda, Zahara, and Lorenzo, along with so many others in the Portal Cities, had some magic, but Carlo’s mate was different.

  He could sense it.

  He refused to tie himself to that, to the Chaos, again.

  “You have no reason to fear me. You just have to remember, Carlo.”

  Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. Carlo did a partial shift of his hand, just enough to open the door, and then he slid back into a full wolf before streaking from his room. He needed to run, needed the freedom of the forest. His claws clicked on the floor as he raced down the stairs and slid into the foyer.

  “Carlo?” The red starbursts in Eiravel’s black eyes sparked with power as he stood. “What has happened?”

  His twin, Cynes, leaned against the wall. The relaxed pose didn’t fool Carlo. He knew the Unseelie’s bow and magically enhanced jewels were within reach, in case he had to attack. They’d been powerful allies of Heath when he’d attacked Silva and the Lombardi Pack without having the truth of their memories, but their bond with Isadora had taken precedence. Their relations with the Unseelie, Renegade wolves, and the wolves of Encantado were still shaky—fighting nearly to the death would do that—but they were trying.

  Because of this, Carlo could appreciate Cynes and Eiravel’s need to protect their bonded female and question him. Even if Carlo outranked the males in the wolf hierarchy, he’d never begrudge a man protecting what belonged to them.

  Carlo shook his head, knowing the two were certain their charge was safe upstairs. Although the men’s postures didn’t change, the air around them felt calmer and the shine in their eyes dulled a bit, a sign they’d relaxed a fraction.

  Eiravel nodded. “Are you okay?”

  Damned observant Fae.

  Carlo couldn’t forget Eiravel was made for battle, the red magic in his eyes identifying his skill. Not answering the question, Carlo leapt across the room and to the always-open back doors that led to the back of the Moretti estate. He ignored the men calling out behind him and kept running.

  She couldn’t reach him out here. Her voice only filtered to him in his room.

  He hoped.

  “Stubborn male.”

  He howled. No, no, no, no, no, no!

  The wolf ran harder, his lungs working, ears alert, and a snarl warning anyone to stay away. He yipped at a passing guard, and the man nodded, already knowing the communication they’d set up between wolves and their human forms. The man would know he’d have to adjust duty to protect Arturo.

  Not all of them were gifted like Giuliana or Pasquale, who could talk to their wolves like they were people. Other wolves made it work.

  “I’ve tried to be nice.”

  Just like the Chaos. Carlo’s heart twisted in his chest. He knew she would be like this, but it didn’t stop it from tearing something inside. She’d proven him right.

  “You won’t believe until you see. I need you, Carlo. There is danger coming, such horrible danger, and you have to help.”

  He kept running, pushing himself until the green foliage of the woods blurred past him. She wouldn’t guilt him. He’d known of the danger coming their way. If nothing else, Heath had warned them. It was how they’d discovered Skuld was in league to hurt everyone they cared about, and she’d been working toward it long before they’d known. Carlo didn’t need some whispering voice from the Chaos to tell him that.

  “Come. Here. I’m finished with this game. It’s for your own good, trust me.”

  Yeah, it was for his own good. Pfft.

  Right, because being ripped from Encantado and tossed into the fucking Chaos Realm was good for anybody.

  “Fine. Then I’ll do it your way, mate. You will not deny me.”

  Grrrrrrrrrreat.

  And not at all in the jolly-tiger-for-that-cereal sort of way.

  Chapter Two

  “Who the hell is that?”

  “If I knew, Dominic, I wouldn’t have called you over here.”

  Dominic? Arturo?

  “Zahara? Got any clues?”

  “Chile, you’re on your own with t’is one, ya hear? I’m not touching tha’ one.”

  What the hell could make Zahara afraid?

  Dominic growled. “I just want to know if she’s a threat.”

  She?

  “A threat? Yes. One we can take down? That remains to be seen,” Arturo growled.

  “Romano, what’s your ETA on Kalinda?”

  What the hell is going on?

  “She and Silva will be here in five.”

  “Then we will wait, children of this era.”

  Her voice snapped Carlo from whatever stasis he’d been trapped in. His eyes snapped open, a growl rumbling from his chest and out his throat as he scanned the room.

  His bedroom.

  A very destroyed one.

  The entire space was trashed, claw marks and ripped-up wood everywhere. In this disaster, Dominic, his blue-green eyes snapping with warning, stood next to Arturo near the door. Carlo’s Alpha’s inky hair was slicked back, his slate suit unmarred, but the muscle ticking in his jaw worked steadily as he looked at Carlo. Ne
xt to him was Zahara, her skin once again smooth since she’d taken on the excess growth magic from Isadora, and her dreads curled over one shoulder. Romano was the only one who stood apart, hovering near the shattered windows, his eyes moving back and forth from the open air to Carlo.

  What the hell were they all freaked out about?

  A giggle and shifting body against him gave him the answer.

  Mine.

  His wolf fought to break free and claim the woman straddling his hips. She was by far the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on. White hair hung in loose waves down to her waist, an almost indescribable red color bleeding into her eyes in an impossible shade of rubies. Black horns curled around her ears in a delicate swathe, like onyx adornments in her hair, and her skin was pure white, like the full moon blazing in the sky. A fine dusting of … something hovered over her flesh, dulling the glow of her skin. Red and white. Strawberry and cream.

  She was a treat he wanted to swallow all at once.

  “Now you want me.”

  Yes … until he got his head right and decided it would be much better to throw her as far as he could. Carlo’s muscles tensed, prepared to do just that, but he couldn’t move. No matter how much he strained, he could do nothing more than breathe and blink.

  “You made it have to be this way.”

  “Get off of me,” Carlo warned. At least he could speak.

  “Who is she, Carlo?”

  “Dead,” Carlo answered his Alpha, ignoring how his wolf howled inside.

  She will break us, you idiot.

  “Then she’s a threat. We fight.”

  Carlo’s wolf whimpered at the deadly promise in his Alpha’s voice.

  We can’t move, idiot, and it’s because of her.

  His wolf didn’t care about that. In fact, he liked how she rubbed against him.

  He wanted her.

  “It wouldn’t be wise, Alpha of the Moretti. We will await the arrival of Asherah Danaan of the Sea. She has felt me and is coming with Niamh Danaan of the Silver.”

  Her voice was a wet dream.

  “Someone called for the Queen of Awesome— Holy fuck.”