by Amanda Jones
He tapped in the number of the private investigator.
"Tell me you have something, anything. The prick just sent us another demand."
"Got a motherlode, boss. Apparently Tucker is a bit of a pedo. Caught in '04, he got out for good behavior and is still cruising the schools and playgrounds. Hasn't reported his new address to the parole office or registered in that county, either. Filling out the paperwork, sending the pictures, and making a nice neat case for the sheriff and then popping it all in the mail. And then sending you the bill, Lyle."
The worry seemed to melt off Lyle's chiseled features as he clung to Gunnar.
"Appreciate it more than you know. What's the turnaround time?"
Gunnar looked up into Lyle's face as he nodded to Gunnar, signaling good news. He wrapped his warm body around him, holding him close.
"Give me three weeks"
Scene Eleven
Back at the Harris estate, Lyle and Gunnar were laying by the fire when they got the call.
"Hello Cranston, what's the news?" Lyle said, sitting upright and giving Gunnar a 'one minute' gesture.
Gunnar raised up from Lyle's lap and brushed pre-cum off his lips. Cranston was Lyle's private investigator, so he knew this was going to be important.
Only a few minutes went by as Gunnar watched Lyle's face. It wasn't long before he could see relief flooding the handsome features. Gunnar rubbed his hands over his extended belly and waited.
As soon as Lyle closed the call he turned and said, "They got him. The PI sent the past few weeks of surveillance to the police and they grabbed him outside of a daycare in Charlotte. Parole violation."
"That's good then, right?"
"Even better, actually. Turns out that when they nabbed him he started raving about gorilla shifters impregnating their male interns and they put him in for a 5150 psych hold."
"What will that mean?"
"Well, first of all, we never have to worry about him using that information for blackmail ever again, and secondly, you're probably going to have to stay inside for the rest of your pregnancy."
Gunnar snarled up his face while Lyle kissed his nose.
"There, there, I'll still bring you your favorite treats from the deli and pamper you every moment I'm home."
Gunnar smiled wide as he replied, "I guess that'll do then."
"Or we could just wait for our little bundle of fur and then get married," Lyle casually said as he pulled out a titanium band from his back pocket.
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying, Gunnar Gray, will you be mine forever?"
Gunnar rubbed his stomach, feeling the flutter of early morning sickness hit. His hand barely made it to his mouth to hold back the impeding sickness before jumping over Lyle to get to the bathroom.
He came back into the room a few moments later, looking a little pale and sheepish.
"I'll try not to take that personally," Lyle laughed.
"You did this to me," Gunnar mock-punched him, "but yes, I'm definitely and utterly all yours Mr. Harris."
About the Author
Artemis Wolffe has always been fascinated by strong men, alpha personalities, and hot encounters. Being born in hills of Appalachia, he knows his way around panthers, bears, and wolves.
While he loves to write about his deepest desires, he is at heart, a romantic. There may be beastly men in his tales, but they know what they want and aren't afraid to go after it with style and grace.
All of Artemis Wolffe's work is available on Amazon's Kindle platform.
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Trapped In A Gilded Cage
Sold To The Alpha Book 1
By Cara Wylde
CHAPTER ONE
Alma Venus
Avelyn dropped her towel and reached for the blue bathrobe. She caught a glimpse of her body in the mirror and stopped for a second, contemplating it from the top of her head to her dark red toenails. She sighed. “Three more months.” The only thing she couldn’t give up on when she had made her decision almost 10 years before was her hair. It cascaded down her bare back, reddish blond curls that were now heavy with water. She had given up on her slim waist, narrow hips, and smooth thighs. At first, it was difficult, but there was no other way. The only thing that could offer her a sense of control and confidence was changing her body, attitude, beliefs, and even dreams as much as possible, becoming the opposite of what was expected of her. She refused to be like the others girls, thin, shy, and obedient, waiting for Prince Charming to spend a fortune to enjoy their grace and talents.
An impatient knock on the door snapped her out of her thoughts.
“Avelyn, hurry up! I’ve got it.”
Even though Delyse had whispered, Avelyn could hear the excitement in her voice. She threw on her bathrobe, snatched a dry towel for her hair, and unlocked the door.
“Where is it?”
“Right here,” said Delyse. She motioned for her friend to follow her to one of the single beds. They both sat down, and Delyse pulled out a white envelope. Avelyn grabbed it and opened it with trembling hands. She took out the shiny ID card and looked closely at her own picture. Joanna Thorne. She repeated the name two more times, loving the way it rolled down her lips. She hugged Delyse, squeezing her small frame so hard that the girl could hardly breathe for a moment.
“Thank you! Thank you so much!”
“No problem,” smiled Delyse. “I told you my brother would do anything for his little sister.”
Avelyn finally let go and put the ID card back into its envelope.
“I’ll hide it somewhere safe. This is my ticked out, Delyse. Three more months and I’ll be far away, enjoying a latte in a fancy Italian café and drawing the design sketches for my small, pretty bakery.”
Delyse gave her another smile, but her eyes showed sadness. However, she knew that Avelyn had to leave. It was better for her to end up in Italy, free to follow her dream, than on the streets of London or in a brothel.
“Well, I have Greek Philosophy in 10 minutes, so I’d better run. Talk to you later.” She jumped off the bed and went to her desk to get her books. She sniffed her nose silently and ran out the door before Avelyn could notice that she was barely holding her tears back.
Alone in the room, Avelyn slipped the envelope under her mattress. She went to the tall windows and pulled the curtains back, letting the warm afternoon sun invade the room. She looked at the four single beds, all lined up against the walls, then at the small desks beside them, filled with papers, books, pens and pencils. Claudia had left her laptop on her nightstand, an empty glass of water on top of it. Her side of the room was a complete mess, and Delyse always complained about it. Avelyn’s desk and nightstand were clean and well-organized. Of course, it had a lot to do with the fact that she had packed most of her things and stuffed the huge suitcase under her bed.
It was no secret that she was preparing to leave Alma Venus, and that was why the Guardians didn’t care that she wasn’t attending her classes anymore. No one cared. Avelyn was a lost cause. She would never become a good bride for no shifter because no shifter wanted her. The buyers came to Alma Venus, checked the catalog, interviewed their prospective brides, usually chose an innocent, fragile beauty, and left. Few of them ever requested for Avelyn to be brought to them, and when they did, she made sure that not only her body showed how different she was from the other girls, but also her attitude. She figured out long ago that there were enough men who preferred curvier women, and the fact that the stylists and make-up artists at Alma Venus did their best to enhance her physical qualities hurt her more than anything when one of those clients happened to show up. So, Avelyn did her best to be rude and make a show of her ignorance and impertinence. If they asked her to sing, she would raise her voice so high that she would sound like a
wounded magpie, and if they asked her to dance, she would display the grace of a clumsy she-bear in ballet slippers. She wrote the most cringingly romantic poems and drew the thickest, shakiest ink lines on washi paper, insulting the entire art of sumi-e with her horrible attempts. “Cooking? Oh no, sir, you won’t catch me dead in the kitchen unless it is to taste the delicious dishes your personal chef has prepared. Can’t you tell?” And she’d give them a wicked, crooked smile.
Maybe there were clients who could see through her act, but if there was one thing all shape-shifters had in common was the desire to control their mates, to bring them to their knees and have them begging for attention and affection. Wolf-shifters, bear-shifters, dragon-shifters, fox-shifters… their animal form didn’t matter when the beast inside craved the same thing: complete control. That was why the peace between the shape-shifters and humans had ended up being so unfair to the latter party. Reasoning with them was almost impossible. Avelyn despised them. At 14, when she fully grasped the idea that living and studying at Alma Venus Boarding School actually meant that she was being bred for marriage, and that once she turned 18 she would be sold to the highest bidder, Avelyn decided that no one would ever own her. They would never own her body, her wits, her talent for painting and singing, her soul. She started eating. She ate two courses plus dessert, and she made sure she had lots of snacks between the main meals. When the Guardians noticed she was getting bigger and bigger with each passing month, they forced her to go on diet. They came to such lengths that they brought a nutritionist and requested that one of the chefs at Alma Venus would cook especially for her. But Avelyn had made a plan and she was determined to stick to it no matter what. She had friends. That was when Delyse and Claudia started sneaking food into the bedroom they shared, and kept Avelyn’s secret from their other roommate, Amelia. They understood their friend’s motivation, and even though they didn’t agree with her plan and they often talked about how they would never have the courage to mess like that with their own bodies, they admired Avelyn and supported her. Soon, the nutritionist claimed that she had no idea why Avelyn kept growing in size no matter what diet she tried, and concluded that it must be hereditary. The school principal was at a loss. Miss Delacroix had paid a fair price for Avelyn when the girl’s mother had come to her office and begged her to take her daughter, who was only 8 months old, and save her other two sons from starvation. Even if the young woman was covered in dirt, her hair tangled and slimy, and even though the old rags she was wearing hung off her skeleton-like body, Miss Delacroix could tell that she was a beauty. Deep blue eyes, rich, curly hair of a reddish blond, and a delicate body frame. Yes, she had paid a fair price for Avelyn, made her mother sign a contract that said she would never try to see her daughter again, and she couldn’t understand how or why the girl was getting fatter and fatter at such an alarming rate. There was no way it could have been hereditary, because she had researched the girl’s family before making the decision. Alas, when the school’s psychotherapist came with no explanation or solution, the headmistress decided to leave the girl alone. After all, they all knew there were men who preferred curvy women. Avelyn still had a chance to pay the school back for the education she received and make her contribution to the feeble peace between humans and shape-shifters.
But Avelyn was smarter than that. She made sure she didn’t excel at any class she was taking. The Guardians soon came to the conclusion that she had no talents. She couldn’t sing, couldn’t play the piano or the violin, she hated dancing, and she was terrible with words. Her poems were childish, she could never get the measure and content right in a haiku, and her drawing skills were non-existent. Given that she loved to eat so much, they figured that cooking was also an art, so they introduced it as an optional course for all the girls who were interested. It wasn’t optional for Avelyn, but it surely was useless. She always messed up the spices, overcooked the meat, and she couldn’t tell the difference between parsley and dill to save her life. In their attempt to make something of her, anything, the Guardians made Avelyn take more classes than any of the other students. Now, at 24, three months shy of turning 25 and being thrown out of Alma Venus, Avelyn was a decent dancer, an amazing singer with a heavenly voice, an adept of the art of Japanese ink painting, could speak five languages fluently, could play the piano and the cello, cook incredible food, bake delicious cookies, and write fairly good poetry. She could also solve complicated algebra exercises faster than most, and she knew all the classics. And that was because when, at 14, she had decided to make herself as undesirable as possible, she had also decided to take advantage of everything Alma Venus had to offer. No one beside Delyse and Claudia would ever know that, and sure as hell no shifter would enjoy Avelyn’s company. On her 25th birthday she would refuse the offer to serve in a brothel, say that she’d rather make a living on the streets, and accept her status of society’s pariah. Then, when everyone forgot she existed, she would take out her fake ID, become Joanna Thorne, and flee to Italy. There, she would open her own bakery, rebuild her life, lose some pounds if she felt like it, become the kind of person she’d love inside and out, and then marry some unsuspecting guy with a lovely smile and a kind heart who would enjoy her singing, painting, and cooking for the rest of his life.
That was Avelyn’s plan, and it was perfect.
With a bright smile on her face, Avelyn stepped away from the window and took off her bathrobe. Her hair was almost dry. It was a beautiful spring day outside and she had no intention of spending it in this dark, chilly room. She went to the huge wardrobe she shared with her three roommates and chose a long, flowery dress. She didn’t feel like covering her body in anything else than the light, soft dress, and the idea of bra straps digging deep lines into the creamy skin of her shoulders to keep her heavy breasts up made her shudder. Same thing with the panties. Too much confinement. “Oh no. Today I’m going to enjoy the hot sun and the warm breeze. I’m not even going to move from the lounge chair in the garden.” She grabbed the book she had started reading the day before, “The Shadow of the Wind” by Carlos Ruiz Zafón, and slipped on her bright green flip-flops. She closed the door behind her, crossed the long corridor, and started down the stairs of the majestic building.
Alma Venus hadn’t always been a boarding school for girls. It was old and full of history, and Avelyn sometimes thought that if she pressed her ear to the cold walls, she would hear them whisper of long nights spent in prayer, of fear and war, and then of young students running to their classrooms, heavy course books held tightly against their chests. It hadn’t always been called Alma Venus. When it was founded, somewhere around 590 AD, it was a medieval cathedral school. Later, under King Henry VIII, it became a grammar school, and during the Victorian era it was slowly turned into a public school, as it started taking in students of all social statuses. It didn’t change much until the war between humans and shifters, after which, in 1918, the Delacroix family decided to renovate it, as they did with the entire small town of Myrtle Valley, which they practically owned. Now Alma Venus was one of the best boarding schools in Europe. Shape-shifters from all over the world came here looking for brides, as they knew they would find the best educated young ladies. They were, of course, very expensive, but their unequaled beauty, exquisite manners, and various talents of the most exotic kinds always convinced the rich, influential shifters the brides were worth the money.
Avelyn stepped lightly on the marble floor of the main hall and made a last moment decision to visit the kitchens and grab some snacks that would go well with the sunny afternoon and the gothic romance novel she was determined to finish before dinner. So, she made a right at the bottom of the staircase, followed a long corridor guarded by old paintings on both walls, and reached the kitchens in no time. As most of the students were attending their classes at this hour, the building was deserted. She didn’t bother to knock on the door, and she simply entered the enormous room where three chefs and dozens of cook assistants and maids were moving from one ta
ble to another, chopping vegetables, cleaning plates, arranging utensils, and chattering loudly.
“Avelyn, you’re skipping classes again,” said Miss Potts instead of “hello”. She was a sturdy lady who baked amazing muffins and absolutely loved Avelyn for her healthy appetite and for the appreciation the girl showed for her sweets.
“Yes well, we all know it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Oh, honey. Don’t talk like that. Your Prince Charming might still appear in these three months.”
Avelyn smiled at Miss Potts’ naivety. The middle-aged lady truly believed the treaty between humans and shifters was the best thing that happened in the last century, and that the girls chosen to become shifter brides were privileged. However, Avelyn couldn’t hold that against the adorable Miss Potts, who was in more ways than one like an innocent child, and who had already grabbed a box where she proceeded to stuff chocolate chips from last evening, strawberry muffins left from breakfast, as well as hot cinnamon rolls she had just started baking for dinner. Like every other day, Avelyn left the kitchens through the back door, box full of goodies in hand, and headed for her favorite spot in the garden.
***
The moment she stepped off the rock pavement which surrounded the school building, Avelyn took off her flip-flops and closed her eyes for a few seconds, shoes in hand, her face turned towards the sun, and enjoyed the feeling of slightly wet grass beneath her bare feet. As she was soaking in the warmth, breathing in the cool air and reveling in the soft brush of the morning breeze against her skin, Avelyn had the odd sensation that something was wrong. She stayed like that for a long minute, trying to prolong the feeling of peace and contentment, but the spell was broken. There was something there, in the air, in the shuffling of the tree branches, something that told her the moment didn’t belong to her alone. Her stomach twisted with the realization that she was being watched. Avelyn snapped her eyes open and turned her head to the left side of the school. Her instinct hadn’t failed her because there he was, a tall, handsome man with a strong physique. He was dressed casually, blue jeans and a checkered vest over a white shirt that fit perfectly over his broad chest. He was too far away for Avelyn to see his eyes, but she did notice how the faint wind was playing through his longish black hair. A neatly trimmed beard covered his strong, square jaw. At the sight of him, her heart started beating like the wings of a trapped dove, and when he took a small step towards her, Avelyn took a step back.