Royally Charmed: A Royal Bad Boy Shifter Romance

by Lea Jade

  “Will you come with me? To see my father?”

  Caleb lifts my face up to his, so he can graze his lips on mine. Purring softly. He smiles.

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  THE END

  Epilogue

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  Sneak Peek: Raging Moon

  Book One of The Broken Bad Boy Shifter Series

  Jake

  I smell her fear.

  She’s watching me again.

  I’m standing in the corner, fists clenched, ready to fight as her eyes rove over me. The way she does when thinks I’m not looking, taking in my naked, sweat-soaked flesh, studying every plane and angle of slick, solid muscle. Even though I’m all hot and bothered from being under the spotlights too long, I can hear her praying under her breath, asking the gods to protect me.

  Not that I need protecting.

  And since when did she start worrying about my safety? A couple of weeks ago maybe. No, longer than that. Since the first time I spoke to her, about a week after she started working at the club. I noticed her well before then of course. Before she even glanced my way. Wearing a short, tight, little number, flaunting herself at the twins.

  Sure, she was going to get the job. Who wouldn’t want to hire her? She’s a stunner. All dark eyed and mysterious, with luscious cherry-red lips and cascades of long, silky, jet-black hair. A body to worship and die for.

  Damn. I shouldn’t think about that now. I should focus. Considering what’s about to happen.

  Hundreds of pairs of eyes are on me. Degenerates from all walks of life eyeballing me from their lofty status above the steel, caged circle I’m locked up in. All cheering, spitting and howling for the kill.

  For my kill.

  And I’ll give them what they want. Their pound of flesh. Not that I’ll enjoy it much. Though, if it isn’t me who does the slaughtering it’ll sure as hell be the other guy. The one who’s eyeing me from across the ring right now, stamping and strutting like a bull about to disembowel a matador.

  He should be so lucky.

  As if he could be the one to take me down. The chosen one where all others have failed. If looks could kill, maybe… No joke, the guy is glaring at me so hard he looks like he might shit himself.

  My wolf growls and snaps back, pacing the mental enclosure I’ve stuffed him into. I can’t let him out yet. If I do, he’ll rip that guy to shreds before the first bell and then the fight would be over.

  I can’t let that happen. Too early.

  The twins, Eric and Xavier fucking Lexington wouldn’t like that. Every fight needs to be good. Every drop of blood earned. The night needs to last and look convincing or the punters will demand their money back. And no one likes refunding customers any more than the infamous ‘Bloodbath Brothers’, dragon shifter twins so named for their fondness of illegal bloodsports and violent gambling rackets. The bastards.

  Not that, that’s why I’m here. No shit. I’ve honestly no idea how I ended up fighting for these fuckers. They own me. Or at least they think they do. But I don’t mind this game we play, where I beat the shit out of some upstart and we reap the rewards equally. One day I’ll take my leave, but for now the arrangement suits me fine. It’s not like I’ve anywhere better to be. And my wolf was born for ring, that much I know.

  The crowd heckles as tension mounts, and my nose and mouth curl up into a tight snarl. I’m losing focus again. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes. Shutting out the chaos. Calming my raging beast.

  Easy now.

  Soon we’ll have him.

  “And now, ladies and gentlemen, the fight you’ve all been waiting for. The biggest and bloodiest brawl of the night.” A voice rings out overhead at last. “Are you ready to see hell unleashed before your very eyes?!”

  The throb of the crowd explodes from above, dying out only as the announcer continues. “Our newest challenger all the way from Boston. A grizzly shifter with claws of black iron, known to his comrades as the fierce and merciless Heart Breaker! Ira Grey DeSilver!”

  Some preppy jackass with a double-barreled name. Great.

  As always, this moment of anticipation, between the bell ringing and the unleashing of my fury, feels fucking endless. Fates alive, I hate waiting. There’s some cheering for my opponent, but mostly they boo as he bellows and bounces around the pit. The regulars do anyway.

  He sweeps by me. With my eyes still closed, I sense and smell him almost too close. A musky aroma that has the hairs on the back of my neck bristling. I keep my eyes shut. I don’t need to see him or the crowd, or anything else until it’s on. And it will be soon.

  “And in this corner, the powerful, unstoppable, and reigning champion of the East Side Pit. Our very own bare-knuckle wonder, Jake Archer, The Raging Wolf!”

  The crowd goes wild—a sound I must admit never gets old. They chant my name over and over and I permit myself a sliver of a grin. It won’t be long now.

  “Does our newcomer stand a chance against our ferocious, blue-eyed wolf? Will this be the match that finally sees the King of the Cage brought down? Or will the demonic Heart Breaker leave bloodied and broken?” The announcer pauses, as the air around the ring becomes electric. “Ladies and gentlemen are you ready for blood? Then let’s. Get ready. Tooo rumble!”

  I scent the ref as he comes forward, like he always does right before the start. Not in the cage with us but walking steadily around it, making one last check. My eyes are still closed but I know the moment he stops walking.

  “Alright boys, you know the drill. Anything goes once the bell rings or until one of you gives up. Do not try anything between rounds or I’ll tear you down where you stand, got it?” I sigh and hiss a yes, but the other guy doesn’t say a word. “You. Noddy boy, I need to hear you say ‘yes’ or get the hell out of my ring.”

  “Yeah. I get it.”

  “Ok good, the ref has given us the greenlight so we’re ready to go in three, two, one–!”

  I open my eyes.

  The sound of a bell makes the bars behind me reverberate against my spine as I step away. The crowd jeers and their shouts become louder, hollering at me to ‘take him down’ or ‘crucify him’. But I wait, while my flashy opponent dances toward me fists raised, claws out already like a rookie, grinning like a moron.

  It’ll be almost too easy to take him down.

  All at once he moves, swiping talons with lightning speed.

  It takes the barest step left to dodge him. And then he’s back again, gunning for me. I dodge every blow, right then left. I don’t even need to raise my fists. He follows me around the room like a pathetic puppy, barking to keep up.

  Then I take a shot. No claws for me, just my knuckles in his face.

  I hit home.

  There’s a crack of bone and a spray of red as I slug him just right. The copper tang of salt and iron fills my nostrils causing my wolf to grunt. I lick the blood off my lips and then go in low and hard, up close for a few calculated strikes and then out again. No blood drawn but just as devastating.

  The crowd love it.

  So does she.

  Her scent is spiky now and there’s a faint sweetness to it. If I’m not mistaken she’s aroused. But I dare not look at her. I won’t be able to control my beast. He’s raging, throwing himself against the mental bars inside my head. She’s the first female to have my human and my wolf interested. Keeping us in check during the fight is going to be twice as hard. We’ve been panting after her for weeks.

  A few rounds in and my opponent’s claws are still kissing air, missing me over and over. He’s getting sloppy. Not much of technical fighter. Going ten rounds with this clowndick is going to be a bore and ball-ache. I’m just getting warmed up, teasing the hell out of this guy, flirting with him, whe
n I sense it. A stillness in the crowd that wasn’t there before. A shadow.

  On the catwalk above between rounds, ring-girls parade next to a private viewing platform nestled in the scaffolding. I find my gaze drawn up there to see Xav observing me with blank eyes.

  I’m surprised to see him, but he must have just arrived. The older twin isn’t one to come to The Pit often, preferring to leave the hands-on business side of things to his younger brother, Eric, instead. I crease my lips into my usual, trademark smirk, but the bastard just stares intently, the corners of his mouth curling downward. No doubt, displeased with how the fight is going.

  If I keep on pounding this guy, he’s going to shift early and then all bets are off. I can’t control my wolf. It’s what I’m known for. And despite their whoops and cheers, I’m not giving the crowd what they really want either. They want more blood, a lot more blood. And not my opponents. They want mine.

  The other option is to let this douche-bag, grizzly pummel me for a bit, but my damned wolf isn’t going to like losing. Especially, if our female is watching.

  Our female? Where the fuck did that come from?

  But, next round I’m slower, enough to let the grizzly slice into my shoulder and side a few times. No too deep, but enough to make it messy.

  I hear her gasp.

  I have to grit my teeth as my wolf snaps at me for control. But this is what I’m supposed to do. Let the moron win a few and he’ll keep coming back for more. A few blows to the head and I’m leaning against the cage bars, scanning the crowd for her. Dark eyes full of terror, she meets my unfocused gaze for a split second. And then, something inside me clicks. I can’t hold back any longer, it’s been eight fucking rounds already.

  I look up to see if Xavier will give me the nod, a sure sign to finish this guy, but he doesn’t move. The bastard just sits there stiff like a statue. Why is he drawing this out? What’s so damned special about this fight?

  Behind me, I sense the grizzly moving in for another batter of blows. He won’t shift while he’s winning I get that, but he’s sure as hell taking his own sweet time about it.

  But I’ve had enough of this charade. Eight rounds of getting my head kicked in is plenty in my book. It’s time to end this.

  My wolf howls inside as heat surges in waves out from my core, as skin shreds to reveal fur, and as canines and claws lengthen. My grey-blue wolf explodes finally, uncontrollably, into the ring.

  And, we’re on.

  Time to dance motherfucker.

  To be continued…

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  Author Note

  Thanks for reading but it’s not over yet!

  While there are no cliffhangers in the Royal Bad Boy Shifters Series, each story is connected and follows the fate of the Shifter Royals as they battle it out for the Imperial Throne, finding true-love and a little magic along the way!

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  About the Author

  Lea Jade lives in London with her bean-shaped dog and the rest of her non-furry family. Where she writes fun & flirty paranormal romance with plenty of magic, action and mystery suspense. All her stories end happily. Featuring smoldering alphas or cheeky, shifter bad boys needing to be tamed, who fall hard for the sassy, kick-ass heroine who doesn’t need to be saved.

  When she’s not pandering to the whim of her grumpy, jack-chi pup, or beating up bad guys, you can find her word-wrangling her next crazy adventure, and listening to Ed Sheran while sipping spiced chai-latte at her local Starbucks.