Alpha Guardians Series - The Complete Collection: 650+ Pages Of Sizzling, Fast-Paced Bear and Dragon Shifter Romance

by Vivian Wood

  The next thing she knew, she was in Gabriel’s steady arms once more as he carried her up the stairs and straight to their bedroom. Gabriel laid her down and undressed her silently, his every touch gentle, his gaze possessive.

  When he tucked her under the thick comforter, he stripped off his uniform and climbed into bed with her.

  “Come here, darling,” he said, turning on his side and fitting her to his body. “I need you close. I just— I never…”

  Cassie felt the fine shudder that ran through Gabriel’s body, the well of fear and anger and shock that ran too deep for words. She turned in his arms and kissed him, understanding that it was her turn to comfort him.

  “I’m here,” she said. She took his hand and drew it down to her stomach, splaying his fingers out across her bare skin, reminding and reassuring him at once. “We’re safe.”

  “We,” Gabriel said, looking down at her belly with something like awe. “I’m sorry, darling. In all this mess, I haven’t even said… Hell, I don’t even know what to say.”

  Cassie hesitated, a little burst of fear flaring in her heart.

  “You’re happy, aren’t you?” she asked.

  Gabriel placed the softest kiss on her lips, taking her breath away.

  “There isn’t a word for how I feel,” he said. “Happy isn’t enough. Elated? Proud? Surprised, certainly.”

  He slid his hand across her body, skimming it up her hip.

  “Afraid, a little?” Cassie said, giving him a wry smile.

  “God, yes,” Gabriel said with a chuckle. “What a world we live in. And now we’ve brought this new life into it, defenseless…”

  “She’s got you to protect her,” Cassie said, seeking his lips for another kiss.

  Gabriel stiffened against her.

  “She?” he asked, pulling back to look in Cassie’s eyes.

  “I… I think so,” Cassie said, a grin spreading across her face. “I think we’re going to have a daughter.”

  The look of joy and terror on Gabriel’s face made Cassie laugh outright. She knew just how he felt, for her own heart was filled with the same things.

  “Not even born, and already she’s giving you trouble, huh?” Cassie said.

  Gabriel laughed, and the sound warmed Cassie’s bones. She snuggled against him, breathing in his wonderful masculine scent, and sighed.

  “I can’t stay awake,” she warned Gabriel. “I want to do all kinds of dirty things with you, but I’m pretty sure I’d miss most of them.”

  Gabriel stroked her hair and huffed a laugh.

  “I think I can allow my pregnant mate one night’s respite, after being abducted and abused,” he said, his words growing bitter at the end.

  “You saved me, though,” Cassie reminded him, letting her eyes drift closed. “And I’m pretty certain I’ll be very interested in your attentions in a few hours. I’ve been waking up all… tingly, lately. I blame the hormones.”

  Gabriel rumbled a laugh and kept up his drugging touches. Cassie let herself succumb to the gentle comfort. She was nearly asleep when a very important thought popped into her head, and she roused herself with great effort.

  “Gabe?” she asked.

  “Yes, darling?” he mumbled, lips brushing the top of her head. It seemed her fierce Guardian was as lulled by their embrace as she.

  “If it is a girl,” Cassie said. “I thought we’d name her Caroline. After your sister.”

  Gabriel didn’t speak, only pulled her closer and kissed her lips. Cassie could feel the love and gratitude thrumming through his entire being, mirroring her own emotions perfectly. She smiled against his lips and let herself drift off, knowing she’d never be happier or safer anywhere than in Gabriel Thorne’s arms.

  Speak No Evil: Bear Released

  1

  Chapter One

  Dominic “Pere Mal” Malveaux stood at The End of The World, the dramatic spot where the New Orleans shore line led straight outward before sloping down into the Mississippi River, turning over the events of the last few months. This particular spot was beloved by locals, a place to walk right out to the water. A good place to perhaps celebrate a holiday, or marvel at the beauty of the Louisiana coast.

  Or think over one’s failures and accomplishments, as it were.

  Pere Mal swept his hands down the front of his suit, ignoring the way the salty, humid breeze buffeted him. He sucked in a deep breath and watched a tug boat guiding a ship downriver. For a moment, he felt a strange lash of jealousy toward the ship. He wanted that kind of guidance, needed it. Over and over again he’d summoned the spirits of his ancestors, normally a talkative bunch.

  But now… not a peep. Since that night, the disaster at St. Louis Cemetery #1, his ancestors had been silent. When he summoned them, he could feel them, knew they were present. But they gave him nothing. No advice, no glimpses into the future or the past. No help of any kind, just stony stoicism.

  It seemed that not only had the Alpha Guardians ripped the First and Second Lights from Pere Mal’s grasp, but they had also managed to lower him in the eyes of his ancestors. Pere Mal’s hands bunched into tight fists as he looked out across the river, struggling to maintain his composure.

  He wanted nothing more than to lash out, strike at the pesky bear shifters, burn their heavily-warded communal house to the ground. But no, that wouldn’t do. He still needed the First and Second lights, eventually. For now, he’d have to sit back and let them get comfortable, allow their security to grow lax.

  For now, he needed to hurt the Guardians in a more subtle way. The two Guardians attached to the First and Second Lights had their mates locked up nice and tight, no easy way to breach those defenses. The third Guardian was nowhere to be found… an unfortunate thing, since Pere Mal would move mountains to get his hands on a living, breathing dragon. Even if the creature never bent to his will, the money to be made from selling the blood and teeth and scales was immeasurable.

  That left the fourth Guardian, though Pere Mal was uncertain whether his membership was official yet. Luckily Pere Mal had seen the new one coming, and he’d put a plan in place to make sure the shifter wouldn’t be a problem for long.

  Slipping his cell phone from his pocket, he thumbed through his contacts and then hit dial.

  “Monsieur,” came the man’s immediate response, his thick Germanic accent slowing his words. “How may I be of service?”

  “You still have the girl we spoke of before, correct?” Pere Mal asked.

  “Ja, of course.”

  “I need her delivered to a residence on Esplanade.”

  There was a pause.

  “I do not understand,” the man replied.

  “I am going to text you the address. I want her dropped in the front yard, as conspicuously as possible.”

  “Monsieur, you plan to set her free? She could level the whole city with a thought, if the conditions were correct.”

  Pere Mal frowned.

  “That won’t happen. She’s in stasis right now, useless to me until she’s been… let’s say, activated. For that to happen, I need you to stop asking questions and follow my wishes.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “As soon as I have confirmation that she’s been delivered, I will wire the funds to you as we agreed,” Pere Mal said, already losing interest.

  “Sir, if I may—”

  Pere Mal ended the call and returned the cell phone to his suit pocket. Looking out over the water, he felt satisfied for the first time in days. Soon, his days of groveling at his ancestors’ feet, seeking more power and influence, would be at an end.

  All he needed was a bit of leverage, and he’d just set that in motion. Turning away from the river, Pere Mal smiled.

  Tout vient à point à qui sait attendre.

  All good things in time, n’est-ce pas? All good things in time.

  2

  Chapter Two

  If the ceremony was going to happen tonight, time was running out. Asher Ellison checked hi
s watch and found that it was 11:43. Seventeen minutes to midnight, on the night with the month’s fullest moon. Seventeen minutes to decide his fate for the foreseeable future, whether he would be bound to the paranormal protectorate of New Orleans. Or not, perhaps.

  “We know nothing about Asher. No knowledge, no control. That’s not how I like to run my operation here.” Rhys Macaulay crossed his arms and planted his feet, a typical display of dominance. Rhys was the textbook definition of a bear shifter, tall, muscle-bound and more than a little aggressive when he felt it necessary. Asher didn’t envy Rhys’s companion the battle.

  “We can’t wait for Aeric anymore. It’s been three months. We don’t know when he’ll come back, if ever… and I, for one, do not relish the idea of trying to force a dragon to do something against his will,” Mere Marie shot back, staring up at the massive ginger warrior who stood before her in a defiant stance. Brilliant moonlight splashed across the yard, illuminating the scene. It was nearly the witching hour, nearly time for the ceremony to begin.

  Asher was over a hundred yards away, watching the feisty little Voodoo queen argue with head Guardian Rhys Macaulay, but he still picked up nearly every word of their conversation. In his former line of work, reading lips was a vital skill; it was nice to know he hadn’t lost his touch since giving up military intelligence.

  Well, less given up and more shot dozens of times. Enough that he’d been forced to fake his death lest the Marines realize just what manner of wicked blade they had on their hands. The idea of the military finding out about shifters and then weaponizing them somehow… Even Asher shivered at that, and nothing in the world made him break a sweat.

  He was stone inside and out, through and through, just as his training had made him. His old bosses should be so, so proud.

  He stood just inside the wall of windows and French doors that led from the Manor’s communal ground floor living area out into the yard, waiting. Waiting for Rhys and Mere Marie to come to a consensus, waiting for Gabriel to arrive.

  Asher did a lot of waiting. He’d trained himself to turn within during lulls in action or conversation, to spend his down time analyzing and planning. This little shouting match between Mere Marie and Rhys had gone on for over twenty minutes, and nothing could be done without Gabriel.

  As Asher watched the argument outside, he ran all the potential outcomes of it through his mind. Duverjay, the Manor’s butler, turned on a light in the kitchen. Suddenly Asher’s view of the argument outside disappeared, replaced by his own image. Dark, close-cropped hair starting to silver at the temples, dark brows slashing over near-black eyes, a broad full-lipped mouth and thickly corded muscle from head to toe. His body was a well-honed weapon, his mind sharper than the deadliest knife, and yet…

  His reflection showed something that worried him. A hint of exhaustion, that much was normal. But there was something darker, too, some bit of shadow that should have been more surprising. It wasn’t a specific thing, more a lack of something… Asher had to admit that whatever it was, it had been growing for years. Ever since-

  “Still having a row, are they?” Gabriel’s voice startled Asher from his brooding. The tall, dark-haired Brit appeared next to Asher, squinting as he peered outside. He still wore his patrol uniform, black pants and a black tee under a heavy bulletproof vest. His sword and firearms were missing, though he carried a black duffel bag.

  “Yeah. It looks like Rhys has backed down, though,” Asher said.

  “Great. Now that that’s sorted,” Gabriel said, reaching into his duffel bag and pulling out a wad of shimmering black velvet. He thrust the bundle at Asher’s chest. “Don’t touch the dagger until I tell you to, unless you relish the idea of missing fingers.”

  Asher accepted the cloth-wrapped weapon gingerly, following Gabriel as he strode out into the yard. Asher hesitated for the barest moment, pushing down the tiny voice that protested against making such a long-lasting promise to the Guardians. His phobia of commitment was nothing new, and he’d already decided on this path.

  Once Asher Ellison made a decision, he followed through. It was a tenet of his personality, part of what kept him going through some of the most difficult moments in his life. He didn’t revisit or rethink or dither, he picked a course and followed it through to the bitter end. No exceptions.

  Setting his jaw, Asher stalked out into the back yard, letting the moonlight wash away his apprehensions.

  3

  Chapter Three

  There was something very, very wrong with Kira Hudson. She was certain of it. Slumped in a metal folding chair, hunched over below the only window in the dim, dank basement, she stared at her hands. They were bound in front of her now, duct tape chafing her wrists; the new guard had told her point-blank that any attempt at escape would result in some kind of very painful punishment, and that it was futile anyway.

  Kira was snatched off the street in Baton Rouge four days ago… or was it five now? At any rate, the skinny, pale meth head currently guarding her was her favorite of the men who’d held the post so far. This one was too far gone to care about much, and Kira didn’t garner more than a glance here and there as long as she stayed quiet.

  Seeing as how she only wore a thin white tank top and a long emerald green skirt that had been ripped several times during her capture, she was inclined to prefer the meth head over the first guard. The first one had stared at her like a juicy hunk of meat, licking his lips and grinning half the day. Just thinking about him made her shudder.

  Her jaw tensed when she considered that. That was what they wanted, of course. Stifle her, keep her quiet. Story of Kira’s frigging life. She was always too something for someone. Too brash, too impatient. Hell, too full-figured. That one she’d heard plenty back in her hometown. Union City was a small place full of small-minded people, and the guys Kira’s age had all chased the blonde cheerleaders.

  Kira’s eyes drifted closed, shutting out the misery of her captivity. She reflected on her love life instead, trying to keep her sense of humor despite the terrifying situation she was in.

  Baton Rouge was bigger and a little better, but Kira had soon discovered that the country boys there were not much better. They might be interested in big trucks and big tits, but they didn’t chase girls shaped like Kira for anything longer than a one-night stand.

  Kira had tried those out for a while, and found them unsatisfying. It was too bad, in Kira’s opinion. She liked her big boobs and hips and butt. She looked damned good in a tight pair of boot-cut jeans. When the country boys flirted with her, she flirted right back, trying to appreciate their shallow attention for what it was. Meanwhile, she was waiting for…

  Well, that was the question, wasn’t it? Kira had waited and waited, trying to figure out what her life was missing. When it never appeared, she’d saved up money bartending and booked a one-way ticket to Singapore.

  Bitterness coated her tongue at the thought, and Kira opened her eyes. She’d missed her flight by now, her chance at escape coming too late. If only she’d known she needed to escape more than her boring little life…

  She stared down at her hands again, glaring at her fingers. Sure, they were perfectly still and docile now. Where had this level of inactivity been over the last couple of months, when her mind blanked for a few minutes and, when she came to, she was cradling a dead mouse or bird? Only it wasn’t dead anymore. Something poured out of Kira, a direct line from her heart through her fingertips, filling the creature’s broken body with her inner light…

  Then the mouse would hop up and scurry off, or the bird would take flight, or… well, there were plenty of examples. Kira never chose to do it. In fact, the one time she’d tried to resuscitate a nest of baby possums under her back deck, her newfound power hadn’t surfaced. It came and went as it pleased, to Kira’s dismay.

  Inevitably, it seemed someone had finally noticed Kira’s little… ability. She wasn’t sure who had saw her, or what she’d done to snag their attention, but one way or another Kira
was in deep trouble. One trip in a windowless van, five nervous guards, and countless shitty bologna sandwiches later, Kira and her stupid hands were locked up in a creepy basement instead of exploring the sights in Singapore.

  Her captor’s cell phone rang, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Kira watched as he picked up the call and slunk out of the room. He left the door open a crack and she could hear the grate of his voice as he talked to someone. When he came back, he held a dark-colored pillowcase and a roll of duct tape in his shaking hands.

  “No no no,” Kira said, her voice coming out as a pathetic whimper. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll be quiet!”

  The guy grunted and rolled his eyes before taping over her mouth. He put the pillowcase over her head and then ripped another piece of tape off, and Kira felt him secure the pillowcase to the bare skin on her chest, arms, and upper back. Then he hoisted her up, slinging her over his shoulder to carry her upstairs. To her shame, Kira felt resigned to the situation as she was dumped onto a cushioned seat. A metallic slam made her think she was in the same windowless van again.

  She heard the engine start and then felt a lurch as the vehicle took off. Her heart pounded wildly and she felt vaguely nauseated as her mind filled with visions of all the horrible things that could happen next, worst case scenarios of her destination.

  The ride seemed to last forever. Kira worked to calm herself, wanting to be alert and focused in case she had a chance to escape. She took deep breaths through her nose, trying to ignore the fact that her shoulder and arm were asleep from the awkward position she lay in. She was pretty sure that there were just two men in the car with her, conferring in harsh whispers now and then.

  Eventually the vehicle stopped for a while. Kira felt two pairs of rough hands lift her from the van. Despite her attempts to stay calm, a sheen of sweat broke out over her skin, her scalp prickling with foreboding. Then her stomach dropped when the men flung her into the air, her brain throwing up images of her sinking into the sea, struggling to breathe…