Alphas After Dark (9 Book Bundle of Sexy Alpha Biker Bad Boys)

by Vivian Arend

  I couldn’t give it to him. Not yet.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them, he continued. “By the time I was able to get away, you were already recovering with your family. I wanted to see you but thought I should wait until you were stronger. But then you were gone again. I fucked up. I should’ve come as soon as I was able. I apologize. It won’t happen again.”

  It was what Chessa had tried to tell me. And the fact that he was here now was all the proof I needed. He was an incubus. A man who, through no fault of his own, had taken my power and was here to give it back.

  I could live with that.

  “Kiss me,” I said.

  And then he did. His lips were soft, testing at first as he kissed the corner of my mouth. But I turned into him, pressing my lips to his. And as his tongue slipped over mine, magic sparked from him to me. My magic. The power I’d been harnessing before had belonged to the white witch. It had given me strength but at a price. A distorted reality. But now that I had a thread of my own, hers had vanished.

  I was me again. If not whole, then not broken either. With each caress, each kiss, my power grew. And as our desire heightened, so did my strength.

  The world around us vanished. I no longer saw the empty waterfront. Everything narrowed to just me and Vaughn and the heat between us. I wanted him. Needed what he had to give. “Make love to me,” I said.

  He pulled back and for the briefest moment, I saw a flicker of fear in his gaze.

  “You won’t hurt me.” I knew it deep in my gut. He was here to give, not take. I could feel it. “It’s the only way you’re going to be able to give me back enough power to let me cross.” My magic had been building, but I was still weak. And as a sex witch, I knew what I needed to get strong. He knew it too. I saw it in his eyes.

  After a few moments, he pulled me to him, resting his chin on the top of my head. “I’ll do anything you need.”

  “I know,” I said, believing he would.

  EPILOGUE

  MATISSE

  In the end, Vaughn did make love to me on the shores of the Mississippi. He was gentle and attentive, giving me everything he had, never once taking pleasure for himself. Not even when I tried to give it to him. He insisted he was making love to me. Not the other way around. And while I felt odd about it, I knew he was making sure he took nothing from me, ensuring that I got my power back. And boy did I.

  By the time he finished, I was utterly satisfied in every way and brimming with more power than I’d known what to do with. Vaughn, on the other hand, looked a little pale. Still, with his new incubus powers, he had no trouble jumping with me back into our world.

  That was two weeks ago. I’d seen Vaughn numerous times, but only briefly when he stopped by to make sure I was still okay. I was. More than okay, actually. Tonight was the first night we’d actually made plans.

  He showed up at my door at eight o’clock sharp with a pitiful-looking bouquet of what appeared to have been sunflowers in another life.

  I laughed as I waved him in and eyed his Indian. “Umm, rough ride?”

  “You could say that.” He dipped his head and kissed me softly.

  Heat seared through me as it always did when I was near him. I tamped it down though. We were taking things slow. “Maybe flowers and motorcycles don’t mix.”

  He gave me a wounded look. “I still get points for trying, though, right?”

  “Absolutely.” I took the mangled stalks and deposited them in my kitchen. When I returned, I slipped an arm around his waist and tilted my head up. “So, what did you want to tell me?” When he’d called to ask if I was busy, he’d said he had news.

  He tugged me to sit down next to him on the couch and as he stroked my arm he asked, “How would you feel about having a boyfriend who works for the Brotherhood?”

  My brain couldn’t get past the word boyfriend. Was he serious?

  “Mati?” he asked after I bit my lip.

  “Yeah? Oh. The Brotherhood. You mean you want to be a demon hunter?”

  He sat back. “Not want. Am. I made it official today.”

  I tilted my head up, studying him. Shit. I’d read that all wrong. He wasn’t asking me if I was okay with him being a demon hunter. He was asking me to be his girlfriend.

  He grinned, waiting for my answer.

  Goddess. Girlfriend? Did I want that? Was I ready for that? I knew right away the answer was yes. “You know there’s going to be a constant power struggle, right?”

  His eyes sparked with molten desire as he lowered his lips to mine and whispered, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  I shook my head, chuckling. “You have no idea what you’re in for.”

  “Neither do you.”

  And then he kissed me, giving me just a taste of what was to come.

  MORE FROM DEANNA CHASE

  Marked by Temptation is a spinoff novella from the Jade Calhoun Series. To read more of this world, check out:

  Haunted on Bourbon Street

  Witches of Bourbon Street

  Demons of Bourbon Street

  Angels of Bourbon Street

  To be the first to hear about Deanna’s new releases, sign up for her newsletter here.

  Haunted on Bourbon Street excerpt:

  My eyes flew open, spotting Kane moving toward me. Where had he come from? I jolted up out of my slouch, preparing to leap off the counter, but Kane blocked me, making it impossible. His eyes roamed over my body, as if taking inventory. My stomach fluttered, and I said a silent thanks I was sitting when my knees turned to jelly. Damn.

  “Can I help you?” I asked in a stiff, formal voice.

  “Sure, any time.” He moved in close.

  “Uh, I mean, do you need something? Now?”

  “Yes, I do.” He leaned in with his right arm holding his weight on the shelf over my head.

  I tried to form the word what, but as his face came closer I lost all rational thought. Wanting to taste him, to feel his lips on mine, I closed the distance between us and was rewarded with the slightest brush of a kiss. Kane’s warm lips lingered on mine while his free hand caressed my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. The kiss swiftly turned heated as our lips parted with urgency. He tasted faintly of mocha and cinnamon. I pressed closer, anxious for more.

  My mind stopped working altogether, and I let myself get lost in the delicious intensity of his expert mouth. Unaware of how it happened, my arms and legs somehow wrapped themselves around his waist. He pressed his hips closer, pushing me up against the cupboards.

  His excitement became apparent in more than the bulge pressing against my jeans. Intense need, exactly as I dreamt the night before, took over my senses. My blood boiled, and I ached to feel him, all of him. Desperate to regain control, I pulled away.

  He took a step back, smiling a devilish grin. “That wasn’t exactly what I meant, but thanks all the same.” He held a sleeve of coffee cups in his right hand. “I stopped in for a second, and Pyper asked me to get these.”

  I tilted my head and spotted the inventory of extra cups.

  Shit.

  BIOGRAPHY

  USA Today bestselling author, Deanna Chase, is a native Californian, transplanted to the slower paced lifestyle of southeastern Louisiana. When she isn't writing, she is often goofing off with her husband in New Orleans, playing with her two shih tzu dogs, making glass beads, or out hocking her wares at various bead shows across the country. For more information and updates on newest releases visit her website at www.deannachase.com

  JUMP TO...

  Copper King by Vivian Arend

  Marked by Temptation by Deanna Chase

  Rumpel's Prize by Marie Hall

  Tank by M. Malone

  Shattered Web by Crista McHugh

  Caged Wolf by SM Reine

  Collateral by Roxie Rivera

  Beyond Solitude by Kit Rocha

  Blue Roses by Mimi Strong

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Rumpel's Prize />
  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  More from Marie Hall

  RUMPEL'S PRIZE

  Imp, deceiver, villainous mastermind…Rumpelstiltskin’s been called all these names and more, and for the most part, they’re entirely true. But there is more to the brooding, blond haired Adonis than brokering deals for the devil. He’s hiding a terrible, hideous secret. One that threatens to fray the already delicate strands of his sanity and reason. A secret that he’s desperate to make right, to see whole again, and there is no one and nothing that will stand in his way of getting what he wants—no one except a slip of woman with hair like fire and skin like finest porcelain. Something about Shayera Caron calls to the beast inside him and makes him question his motives for the first time in his life.

  Shayera Caron is the daughter of the infamous Gerard Caron, former lothario of Kingdom but now a reformed rake and settled husband and father. She can go nowhere in her tiny hamlet without seeing the sneers of women and hearing the murmurings of their disdain for the blood that runs through her veins. Shayera is desperate to get away from the gossiping hens, so when Rumpelstiltskin rides into town, she doesn’t think twice before going wherever he leads. Only thing is Shayera is not as innocent as she might seem, for she hides a secret too. One that will bring the most feared man in all of Kingdom to his knees…

  DEDICATION

  To my devoted Kingdom fans, for refusing to let me end this series, I can’t imagine a world in which I did not write Rumpel’s story. Having learned who he really is, this book had to be written. You guys are the best, thanks for believing in me and loving this world and my characters as much as I do… And to all of you discovering Kingdom for the first time, all my books (with the exception of The Huntsman’s Prey) can be stand alone reads. So don’t be scared, even though this is book 8, I promise you won’t be lost.

  PROLOGUE

  “You failed.” Rumpelstiltskin looked at the girl dressed in red, standing before him with her chin thrust forward a notch and her spine rigid. Her hair was long and brown and gleaming. Her face was elfin, with striking cheekbones. She was pretty in a banal kind of way.

  Angelica glared at him with eyes as cold as steel. Her ruby-red lips thinned. “You lie!” Her body quivered with fury.

  The volcanic mountainside rumbled as the slide of heated magma ran slowly down the black rock between them. The sky was an angry shade of gray and against that dreary backdrop, he could almost believe her to be a warrior goddess, especially the way she stood barefoot on the jagged shards of rock, feet torn and bloody, with the sulfur-tinted breeze whipping through her tresses. Her face was covered in angry red scratches and her once-luxurious gown was now little more than shreds of ribbon clinging to her.

  The woman knew what she was about. He smirked.

  Snapping his fingers, Rumpel made her oath manifest itself as a scroll of parchment that gave him the right and authority to do whatever he wished with her. She’d sealed her acceptance of his every condition in a bloody signature. Her blood, to be more precise.

  The crackle of fire curled around the edges of the brown sheaf. “See this?” He pointed and smirked when her eyes widened. He could practically taste the slick slide of fear oozing from her pores. “This here is an oath, a binding one, my dear. One that gives me absolute power over you.”

  “I hate you.” She glowered.

  “Oh come, Angelica, honestly. I gave you what you craved. Beauty, power. You struck the deal.” Crossing his arms, he rested his weight against his chrome-and-steel steed.

  Her lips trembled as her fingers clenched tight to her sides. “You know the future, how can you say I lost?” she spat out. “I passed each one of your tests easily. I found the treasures each time. You simply refuse to acknowledge it.”

  Gods, give a woman a little beauty and they became such a pain in the arse. He rolled his eyes. “You know, I much preferred you when you were just a simple country mouse. And what do I honestly stand to profit by claiming you’ve lost? Accept facts, chameleon. You may now be a beauty, but your brain is as it always was. Empty and dull.”

  She gasped, daring to take a step toward him.

  He chuckled. “You bore me. Our contract is terminated.”

  “No! Wait!” She held out her hand, the heat of her fire completely banked in her desperation that he might take it all away. “I can do anything. I will… I would…” Nibbling her lip, she stared at the ground, then back at him. “I will sleep with you. Yes!”

  She smiled and it was so uninspired, so put on, that his lip curled in instant revulsion.

  “You made me thusly, surely this body”—she traced a slim hand down the length of her svelte form—“tempts you.” Her voice dropped an octave, becoming huskier and what he could only assume she meant to be sexy—problem was it sounded to him like a woman straining from constipation. Her fingers plucked at the laces around her breasts.

  “Stop.” He shook his head. “I can promise you you’re doing nothing more than embarrassing yourself.”

  Now there were tears shimmering in her eyes. Nausea rolled like bile in his gut at her theatrics. His amusement with her had run its course and he was well beyond the point of caring.

  “You cannot do this to me, you promised—”

  “And I delivered.” Jerking upright, he nodded. “I kept up my end of the bargain, you did not. The contract is now null and void.”

  The moment the words were spoken, a shimmering wave of incandescent light rained upon her. She shrieked, dropping to her already gashed-up knees as her hands flew to her face. Her skin shifted like melting wax, reforming and reshaping her from what she now was to what she’d once been.

  When the light died, she blinked up at him. Her face was plump—hardly fat, but definitely fuller. Her skin was dull, her hair greasy and lifeless. The chit wasn’t the foulest creation known to man by any means, but those who came to him rarely believed reality but rather their own perception of the truth.

  She saw herself as hideous to behold and had been willing to trade her soul for a chance at comeliness.

  Shrieking, she covered her eyes with her forearm. “You’ve ruined me,” she cried. “You swore to me, Rumpel. You swore and I did all that you asked me to do. I won this gauntlet.”

  With a scoff he straddled his bike. “You can find your own way home.”

  “What?” She shot to her feet, the dress that’d fit her so well just a day earlier now had to be held in place so as not to expose more of herself than was seemly. “I’m several days walk from home. At the very least—”

  “I owe you nothing more. Be grateful, mouse, that I didn’t kill you for wasting my time.” With a final glare in her direction, he revved his stallion and left. Her screams echoed behind him.

  There were only a few names left on his list. His heart clenched as the muscle in his jaw tensed. The blast of wind against his face as he rode failed to calm his nerves as it normally did.

  Riding pockets of air currents, he streaked across the sky like a hellish blaze of fire and brimstone. Somewhere in Kingdom was the woman who’d end his curse. It seemed impossible to believe that she might possibly come from the loins of one Gerard Caron, but if she was here, there was nothing and no one that would prevent him from doing any and all manner of vile things to possess her.

  No matter how, he meant to see this nightmare come to an end.

  “The devil’s come to collect his due, Caron.” He laughed and his
bike roared.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “I forbid this!” Danika shrieked, gazing furiously at a smirking Rumpelstiltskin. The blond demigod was lounging on his steel stallion from hell with his hands clasped firmly behind his head, looking for all the world as if he were the cat that ate the canary.

  The black leather pants he wore fit him like second skin, and the white shirt outlined the sharp planes and grooved demarcations of a body honed by a master sculptor. No one was really sure whether Rumpel was as devastatingly wicked as he appeared or if the demonic little imp had simply glamoured himself to appear thusly, but one thing was certain, he was as evil as he was beautiful.

  The ground beneath her feet rumbled as his bike purred, the clouds were gray and gathering with the first stirrings of an apocalyptic storm, and a bolt of lightning struck a massive oak not ten yards from them. The unmistakable odor of ozone permeated the air, making her fight an urge to sneeze. Holding her ground, refusing to be cowed by his garish display of power, she balled her hands into fists and gave him a withering glare.

  Thankfully, she’d managed to route the imp on his way into Gerard and Betty’s village, otherwise his show might have actually succeeded in scaring off the townsfolk. Danika herself was merely cross; she too had magic and could wield it just as sharply as he if she so desired.

  “Oh come now. Just because you’re Gerard’s godmother doesn’t give you any right to interfere in this. In case you’ve forgotten, you don’t actually get to tell me what to do.” His gleaming ride spewed a tail of fire from its chrome pipes. Red headlights seemed to almost blink back at her.