by S. A. Ravel
Really? “I’m not stupid.”
He shrugged, snapping his mouth closed.
And she’d thought registering for a state run trade school was the worst thing he could do, besides run afoul of a street organization.
“The damn Yadeshi. Are you out of your mind? The Yadeshi are...” words failed her.
Irritation flashed in his dark eyes. “They’re warriors,” he snapped. “They have discipline, and they’re smart. And loyal. Like a family.”
Zoriah couldn’t speak. She’d done her best. Maybe she could do better. Sixteen was young to have a baby, and to be forced to wed the father, who hadn’t wanted to settle down so young… the state didn’t care. They just wanted two financially responsible parents in the home.
Which meant living under the radar of SIA until Khalid was a legal adult. Which meant that with this third referral for misconduct, SIA would stick their nose back into her home life and evaluate not only her parenting of him, but of her two daughters. Which meant Zoriah needed to figure out something, and fast.
The counselor pursed her lips. “If your plan was to enter the training program with the Yadeshi, I could hold off on that referral. I don’t approve of you skipping school to force us to allow you to train, but under the circumstances what is done, is done.”
“What?” Zoriah stared at her. “How can you condone a child turning himself over to those blue skinned-”
“Don’t be specieist, Ma.”
“Is that a word?”
“It’s not a bad idea,” Ms. Beckett interjected. “Human students who graduate are offered opportunities for travel, employment-”
“As mechanics and mail-order brides.” Did she really have any choice but to allow it? They knew what the alternative was, damn her too-clever son.
“They accept humans in their tech and ground soldier units,” Khalid said.
“Have you turned in your paperwork?” Ms. Beckett asked. “You’ll need a mentor to sign off. It can take a while.”
He smiled, crossing his ankles. “I started as a scrub-”
The woman cleared her throat. “Prospect.”
“Whatever. I started training as a prospect already. With Adekhan Benyon Obe’shan.”
Ms. Beckett’s eyes widened. “An Adekhan? Khalid, that’s wonderful news!”
Zoriah rubbed her head. “What is an Adekhan?”
She’d ignored all talk of the alien warriors, even though they’d been on earth a good ten years. Zoriah didn’t approve of violence, and their whole culture was based on martial prowess. Once the reasons for their alliance with Earth became known- access to fertile human women for marriage, and human men to train as skilled tech-laborers, since the men of their society all wanted to run around with lightswords- she’d decided to write them off.
“An honored warrior,” Khalid said. “One who proved his willingness in battle to die for his unit.”
Perfect. Just... perfect. “How long has this been going on?”
He stopped staring her down then, eyes sliding back towards the window. “A few months.”
“When? You haven’t been skipping school for a few months.”
“I’ve been going on the weekends.”
“What about the enrichment program?” She worked the weekends and wasn’t home to monitor him.
“There was no program, Ma.”
Zoriah closed her eyes. “And your sisters?”
He paused.
“And your sisters?”
“They’ve been training with me.”
He watched Ladasha sit in a chair across from him. Benyon nodded, acknowledging her presence and giving her, a warrior not yet ranked Adekhan, permission to speak.
"Did you consider my co-habitation request?" she asked.
After several years among the humans, Benyon learned the Yadeshi were considered direct. It hadn’t bothered him before- but he'd come to enjoy the small meaningless conversations when walking among their shopkeepers and service people.
"It's hot today," he said, in English.
Her brow furrowed. "It has been hot for the last five years."
So much for little talk. "Never mind. I considered your request. I've chosen to decline."
She didn’t look surprised. He’d never shown interest in her as a woman, though they fought well together and they'd run several successful joint training simulations with the prospects. Ladasha was competent, even tempered and physically attractive, the epitome of a Yadeshi woman. Well-toned musculature didn’t detract from slender curves.
“I thought so,” she said. “Can you tell me why?”
A reasonable request.
"You are a fine warrior, and an attractive woman. I don’t think we would suit. I am honored by the request."
"We're both warriors. I will make Adekhan in the next battle."
He didn’t doubt it. Benyon wasn’t accustomed to explaining himself, but there was nothing challenging in her demeanor. "My mother would not approve."
Ladasha paused. "Your mother is dead."
Yes. Defending him from invaders. His mother, who'd rejected the Yadeshi warrior way of life to live simply, by the effort of her hands. A warm woman, and hardworking, with a soft body and broad smile. But in the end, she'd been Yadeshi to the core, dispatching enough of the enemy for him to find safety before her death.
"She would have wanted my marks to merge with a woman like her," he said. "She was not a warrior."
She nodded and rose, leaving the table with a brief, perfunctory salute. Watching her, Benyon sighed. His assignment on Earth ended in a few months, but he hadn't considered leave taking. The thought of merging with a human woman lured him- they were a tantalizing combination of softness and warrior spirit. But even though he’d spoken to many who intrigued, none yet had sparked his markings.
"Adekhan!"
The yadoana called him, the female Earth children under his tutelage. Another reason to delay his leave- who could he choose to take over their training? There was no one he trusted to handle them properly.
“Aja’eko,” he greeted as their brother approached, checking his amusement behind gravity when the boy executed a flawless obeisance.
Khalid’s sisters were not quite so perfect. Little Ashe grinned while attempting to emulate her brother, shooting him little looks from merry dark eyes. The eldest sister, Reign, performed her obeisance with the banked defiance he’d realized was not directed at him, but a part of her nature.
That one would be a Warlord’s consort, human or no.
“Adekhan, I need your help,” Khalid said.
“We’re not supposed to be here,” Reign said, sitting in Benyon’s presence without permission.
He ignored the lapse, watching the almost man formulate words. “My help, aja’eko?”
“Do you know what SIA is?”
An interesting question. He was familiar with the humans’ agency, the one tasked with providing for their people who had no families to look after them.
“I’m familiar. What does that place have to do with you?”
“I provoked them.”
Benyon’s brows rose and again he hid his amusement. “What did you do?”
“I’ve been skipping school. This is my third infraction.”
Amusement vanished. There were human cadets in the facility who’d fled SIA, and their barbaric system of remediation for individuals they deemed potential drains on social resources.
“If you knew you had two infractions, why risk a third?”
Khalid straightened his shoulders, gaze direct. “If I enlist as a prospect, SIA will leave me alone. But my mother doesn’t want me here.”
Ahhh… “Your strategy is to force her hand then.” Benyon frowned. “Your mother is unaware of your training here?”
Reign snorted. “Well, now she knows. Good going, genius.”
Benyon held up a hand. “You lied.”
Khalid’s teeth ground as he glanced at his sister. “Yes, Adekhan.”
Benyon turned his attention to the girls. Ashe, uncharacteristically silent and Reign, staring up at the ceiling, arms folded.
“And your actions effect your sisters?”
“…yes. If my mom won’t sign off on the paperwork, then I’ll be placed in remediation and our housing allowance will be reduced. I don’t think my mom will sign. She... doesn’t like fighting.”
“A mother would like the loss of her son even less.”
Aja’eko sighed. “Can you talk to her? So she doesn’t make my life miserable until I’m eighteen? Maybe if she sees-”
“I will speak with her.”
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Will he have to abandon his mate in order to save her?
A bear in a bind ...
Bear shifter Dirk Greenwood is in a bind: his Alpha father, Cyrus, has ordered him to choose a mate or be exiled. He wants his son to marry a woman from another clan to cement their alliance.
When Dirk argues with his prospective bride at the clan’s biggest social event of the year -- the Callisto’s Masquerade masked ball -- his father punishes him by saddling him with a human date for the evening. At first, Dirk resents her presence … until his bear begins to awaken, and he realizes the curvy woman is his fated mate.
A baker in a quandary ...
Rachel Simmons thought the Masquerade catering job would be an easy way to put her new bakery on the map. Instead, the fine print in the contract has her serving pastries in a skimpy outfit, dodging her jerk of an ex, and escorting a handsome but foul-tempered rich man’s son.
Like most humans, Rachel has no idea shifters exist, so she’s baffled by the pull she feels toward Dirk ... an attraction that goes far beyond the physical and can’t be denied. When he leaves the ball, she feels compelled to find him.
An agonizing decision
The more time they spend together, the stronger their bond becomes … but that only makes things worse. A shifter of Dirk’s status is forbidden to mate with a human, and she doesn’t even know what he is.
When a bear from the other clan attacks Rachel, Dirk is forced to defend her, leaving him with an impossible choice. He can keep his mate and be banished as a rogue shifter, leaving himself and Rachel in constant danger … or he can renounce his claim on the woman he’s come to love in order to keep her safe.
Is fate so cruel as to let them find each other, then force them apart forever?
Alpha Unmasked is a standalone paranormal romance with no cliffhangers, no cheating, and a guaranteed happily-ever-after.
CHAPTER ONE
Dirk barely dodged the mountain lion’s powerful jaws as it lunged for his torso. He answered with a sharp swipe to the animal’s nose. The lion shook his head and backed away, throwing Dirk a reproachful glance.
“Watch the skin,” Dirk snapped. “I’ve got places to be tonight.”
The mountain lion, Louis, tilted his head and positioned himself for the next attack.
The California sun was high in the sky. Dirk wiped beads of sweat from his forehead before they could trickle into his eyes. Louis already had the edge on him. Two minutes against a mountain lion would’ve been an impressive feat for a normal man, but Dirk Greenwood wasn’t a normal man. For the third time in two minutes, he reached for his bear. As usual, he felt nothing. A shifter’s inner animal wasn’t just a tool for fighting; it was part of who they were. For better or worse, a shifter’s animal form brought out different aspects of their personality, aspects often best left hidden in civilized society.
In his human form, Louis was a nervous little man who skittered around the Greenwood compound like a field mouse. But as a mountain lion, Louis was 150 pounds of pure muscle and raw strength. Dirk admired that, but he also hated it. Louis had been Dirk’s only consistent sparring partner for nearly a year. In the same timeframe, Dirk’s bear had retreated deep within him and beyond his reach. But even the loss of his bear didn’t excuse him from routine spar. He’d almost gotten used to fighting the way a normal man would. Almost.
Louis swiped at him with his razor-sharp claws. This time, Dirk didn’t dodge completely, and Louis left painful gashes in his abdomen. Dirk rolled away and pressed his hand to the wounds. Strictly speaking, the fight was finished. Louis had drawn first blood and was therefore the winner, but that wouldn’t be enough for the mountain lion shifter. He had orders to prove a point to Dirk: the next opponent, real opponent, wouldn’t show mercy because of Dirk’s disadvantage, and they wouldn’t stop at first blood. The moment of hesitation was exactly what Louis was waiting for. Dirk barely had time to cry out as the huge mountain lion tackled him to the ground. In desperation, he pressed his forearm against the huge monster’s neck. He’d already failed; a grizzly never fought from a place of desperation.
Louis lunged forward, pushing Dirk’s head into his mouth. In his bear form, Dirk could have ended this fight the moment it began. As a human, he was lucky to have lasted this long.
Again he reached for his bear, for the surge of power that would let him end this futile exercise. Nothing. He twisted his body, his muscles straining as he tried to wriggle out of Louis’s grasp. But he mountain lion’s jaws didn’t budge. There was only the feeling of the warm earth on his bare back, and Louis’s sharp teeth as they grazed the flesh of his skull.
“Mr. Dirk? Mr. Greenwood wants to see you.” Ana, the housekeeper, called from the patio.
Louis slid to his feet and sauntered away from Dirk. He sat on his haunches, licking the blood from his paws. Dirk climbed to his feet and brushed away the dirt and blades of grass that clung to the dried blood on his stomach. At least he still had rapid healing, the wounds would have required stitches otherwise, but the skin around the injuries had already fused shut leaving only a slight itch where pain had once been.
“Next time you scratch me, Kitty, I rip off your tail.” It was an empty threat. Cyrus, his father and Alpha, would break Dirk’s neck if he hurt Louis. But at least it sounded tough.
Dirk stopped next to Ana and pulled her into a side hug.
“How’s my girl?” he asked. “And what did I do this time?”
She swatted at his sweaty chest and stuck her tongue out, rubbing the dirt off on her apron. Ana, a shifter herself, had worked for the Greenwoods since Dirk was a boy and was used to the frequent backyard battles. Dirk adored Ana, almost as much as his mother. He could always rely on Ana for a hug. Now that he was a grown man, Miranda, his mother, reserved her hugs for special occasions. He couldn’t remember the last time his father had hugged him, but then Cyrus had been less his father and more his Alpha for years.
A summons to the Alpha’s office was never a good thing. It was worse when the Alpha was your father, and the office was down the hall from your childhood bedroom. Cyrus Greenwood wouldn’t take the few steps down the hallway to summon his youngest son. No, sir. Cyrus wanted everyone to come to him. That was an Alpha’s privilege.
Dirk stopped in his bedroom to put on a fresh shirt, but he didn’t dare tend to his wounds. That would’ve cost time, and Cyrus Greenwood was not a man who liked to be kept waiting on normal days. He would hate to be kept waiting on the single most important day of his social year.
A flurry of activity engulfed the Greenwood Compound and its occupants on the night of Callisto’s Masquerade. There were high-profile guests from all over the country to entertain, guests they couldn’t slight. Shifter clans had a long memory. It wasn’t uncommon for debts and grievances to be settled a generation after they occurred. Ever since his brother Maddock’s exile, more and more of the family social obligations, and the pressure that went with them, fell to Dirk.
He stepped into his father’s office and slammed the door behind him. “Couldn’t it wait? Wouldn’t want to shirk my sparring duties.”
If luck was on Dirk’s side, Cyrus would only want to give him a rundown of VIPs he was expected to entertain that night. If not, he’d somehow managed to screw up the few courtesy e-mails he’d sent to the more promine
nt guests.
Dirk was never lucky.
“Have a seat,” Cyrus said. “You smell like blood.” There wasn’t the slightest hint of concern in Cyrus’s voice.
No pleasantries. With anyone else, Dirk would have assumed he was in trouble. But Cyrus despised small talk, a quality that Dirk appreciated.
“Yeah, Louis has a better reach than I remember.”
Dirk didn’t have many possessions, only a room in his parents’ lavish house that served as his bedroom and office. It was large enough to serve both purposes, or so he reminded himself whenever he felt cramped. He rarely took business meetings in person. And when he did, it was easier to drive to the city. He had more than enough money of his own to move out, but as second son, he was expected to stay in the main house until his brother took charge or he took a mate. By tradition, the youngest son became second-in-command when his older brother became Alpha. The second child stayed close, but the eldest was king of the castle. Dirk was the younger of the Greenwood boys, he was never meant to rule. With Maddock gone, the succession of the Greenwood Clan Alpha was in crisis, and it had been the topic of conversation at every social event he’d yawned his way through that year.
Would Dirk ascend to the Alpha position? Had a tragic flaw made Maddock unsuitable to lead? Was Cyrus grooming his younger son for greatness? Hell no, and he wasn’t the least bit bitter about it. An Alpha was always on call. Always balancing between advancing his clan and keeping the peace. Sometimes one had to be sacrificed for the other. Either way, an Alpha’s wants and plans were almost never a consideration. Not if they were fit to rule.
Maddock hadn’t done a damned thing to earn exile, except maybe be a little too selfish to rule. But that had been enough for Cyrus. And Cyrus sure as hell wasn’t grooming Dirk to take his place. Nothing in the house had changed at all, except for Maddock’s empty room which Dirk still couldn’t bring himself to look at.
“There’s been a change of plans,” Cyrus said. “Some offers have come in that I have to move on.”
Dirk raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. They weren’t supposed to discuss business on the day of Callisto’s Masquerade. Miranda instituted the rule after Cyrus missed the opening ceremony one year thanks to feverish negotiations on a real estate deal. Cyrus never stuck to the rule. Dirk didn’t either.