Warrior Awakening: Alien Warrior Science Fiction Fantasy Romance (Archan's of Ailaut Book 1)

by S. A. Ravel

  “Offers for what?”

  “I’ve just heard from Sam Crimmons. He’s looking to marry off his youngest daughter.”

  “Never heard of him.”

  “You wouldn’t have. He’s got a small clan in the unclaimed territories. Texas, I think. They’re a young group, but the men are decent fighters.”

  “They’d have to be to survive out in that dump.” Dirk slouched in the chair and tried to ignore the itching and tingling that had replaced the pain where Louis had clawed him.

  Cyrus had a way of equating fighting prowess with strength, but Dirk had learned the hard way that things weren’t always so clear. Maddock was a decent fighter--more than decent-- but nobody in the family had heard from him in months. Technically, Maddock still had a high position in the clan system, high enough to command some respect even in his exile. But not all rogues respected the clans, and even those that did might figure they could disappear before the powers-that-be figured out who killed their exiled brethren. Dirk knew his brother was in danger, but he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge it for too long. No, Maddock was alive. Dirk could feel it. Maddock just needed space to cope. There was no way a rogue got the best of him.

  “Given the circumstances, you could do worse.” Cyrus said.

  “Does Sam Crimmons think his daughter could do worse?” Dirk asked.

  “He’s not in a position to complain, is he? A mate for his daughter with ties to the most powerful clan on the West Coast? He’d be a fool to reject it.”

  “Even if the mate can’t shift?”

  Dirk hadn’t managed to shift since Maddock left. A bear that couldn’t shift couldn’t fight, couldn’t protect what was his. A generation or two ago that would have been a death sentence for Dirk. Any rogue shifter looking to prove a point or low-ranking shifter looking to rack up an easy kill would have ended him long ago. Now, diplomacy and negotiation kept clans in line. Strong clan ties kept the rogues at bay.

  “We’ll make the announcement during the Masquerade.”

  Dirk struggled to control his breathing as a wave of fury ripped through him. He should have expected his father to have already worked out the deal. Somehow, he always underestimated his father’s schemes. Everyone served the Greenwood Clan, even if it was by their absence.

  “Will she be moving in after the ceremony?” A little humor might calm his anger. “Mama will be thrilled to have someone to dote on. As long as she doesn’t try to change anything.”

  “You’ll be moving there.”

  The room tilted in Dirk’s vision. “You’re sending me to the unclaimed territories?”

  “To a safe enclave within it. Daniella has brothers that Sam assures me are capable fighters. Your position there won’t be any different from here.”

  Dirk’s stomach roiled. Visions of his future flashed in his eyes, and they weren’t pretty. He would be the low man on the totem pole, with rabid rogues on his doorstep to boot. The unclaimed territories was a war zone. There was plenty of land to go around, but rogues staked claim to most of it. Every now and then, a lowborn son set up a clan there in desperation to have territory to call his own. It always ended bloody.

  “You’re exiling me.”

  “Nobody who matters will see it that way.”

  There was only one silver lining that Dirk could see. A small group like the Crimmons Clan would be hurting for capable fighters, maybe enough to let Maddock join the fold. If Dirk could find him.

  “You said there were other offers?”

  “One,” Cyrus said. “Marlow Tenwick is still searching for a mate for Alex.”

  Dirk groaned. “That woman is a bitch on wheels.”

  Alexandra Tenwick was Marlow’s second-born child, his only daughter. He was a member of the most powerful clan on the East Coast. The two clans never got along well. The Greenwoods tried to stay close to nature. They built their clan compound in forests just north of Los Angeles. The Tenwicks didn’t even pretend to enjoy nature. They preferred the concrete jungles of Manhattan.

  Sam Crimmons might save Maddock from exile after Dirk sired a cub or two to secure the line. Not Marlow Tenwick. Marlow didn’t need bodies; he needed to bolster his clan’s status. His grandson ascending to Alpha of the Greenwoods was a fine way to do that. Bringing the disgraced heir apparent into the fold was not.

  Either match would secure Cyrus an heir of decent stock. Either match would be hell for Dirk.

  “If I don’t want either of them?”

  Cyrus’s expression hardened. “You can choose one of the mates I’ve selected for you, or you can join your brother.”

  A bride or banishment. Marriage or death.

  “How long do I have?”

  “I’m making an announcement during the mid-ceremony address. You have until then to decide which announcement I make.”

  Dirk didn’t remember the walk to his bedroom being so long. He hadn’t dared to hope he would ever find his true mate. Fated matches were a rare thing in the clans, where political alliances depended on mate selections. His parents weren’t fated mates, and their marriage was strong. But he had hoped to have more of a say in who he married.

  He should have been grateful. A second son was never guaranteed the right to mate or have cubs. It was the Alpha’s decision, usually rooted in politics. Dirk knew that.

  Only one person would understand what it was like to be blindsided by Cyrus Greenwood. Only one person would care.

  Dirk reached for his cell phone and fired off a single text message. Maybe this time, Maddock would answer.

  Where are you? We need to talk.

  * * *

  Rachel slid the door of the van shut. She scowled at the peeling logo and blew at a stubborn speck of dust, but a few flecks of paint blew away instead. With the balance the client, Cyrus Greenwood, owed, she may have enough extra money to have the logo scraped and repainted.

  Callisto’s Masquerade was a gig for which any caterer with an ounce of ambition would kill. It didn’t pay as well as it should have, but it offered exposure to the sort of people who loved to throw money around on events and parties. If people liked their pastries, she’d be set for the next party season, maybe the next year. If they didn’t, it was back to Seattle and bail bonds with the rest of her family.

  Rachel pushed the worries to the back of her mind. Callisto’s Masquerade was also the classiest event in Los Angeles, at least the classiest event that someone like her could get into: a genuine masquerade ball. The idea of it excited her more than she cared to admit. Once she finished setting up she planned to find a corner to spy on the attendees and their glamorous costumes. Then she had a warm lavender bath and a hot cup of coffee waiting for her at home. With her luck, someone would shoo her away before she got a good look at anyone. She’d made herself presentable. But Rachel’s version of presentable was a pair of black slacks, a nice blouse, and sensible heels, not exactly proper for sneaking into a costume ball.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy getting done up. Fancy parties in Los Angeles meant rooms full of people calculating what they could get from everyone else in the room. Appearance was a big part of the calculation, and Rachel couldn’t afford to splurge.

  Rachel made her way toward the kitchen with the last tray of apple blossoms. Even the service hallway had its charms. The sterile white walls and tiles looked brand new. If the owners spent that much money on upkeep for the parts people didn’t see, she could only imagine how nice everything else would be.

  She’d only told one person about catering the ball, her roommate Megan. When her ex-boyfriend, Michael, had left her a blubbering and homeless mess, Megan had taken her in without question. And Megan was still the only person Rachel could bring herself to share her hopes with.

  “You should stay at the Masquerade after you finish setting up,” Megan had said. “Find a hot guy to dance with.”

  “How will I know if they’re hot? It’s a masked ball.”

  “Puh-lease, you can tell if man i
s hot without seeing his face. It’s all in the shoulders.”

  Rachel chuckled to herself as she set the serving trays onto a nearby table. A man in glasses carrying a black leather binder came up to her. His hair was slicked back. He wore a waistcoat, breeches, and shoes so shiny that Rachel could see her reflection in them.

  “I’m looking for Miss Simmons?”

  Rachel looked over her shoulder and nodded. “I’m Rachel Simmons.”

  “I’m Louis, Mr. Greenwood’s assistant.” He looked her up and down and frowned. “No, no. Your outfit won’t do at all. It’s far too plain.”

  Rachel looked down at herself and frowned. “For setting out trays?”

  Louis pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “For serving, Miss Simmons. Everyone has to be in costume, even the service staff.”

  “It’s Rachel. And I’m not service staff. Just the caterer.”

  “Yes, and your contract clearly states that you are to provide and serve the agreed upon pastries.” He looked over the tray and frowned again. “Is this all of them?”

  Rachel’s mouth fell open before she could cover her shock. “There must be some mistake.”

  Louis squared his shoulders and tugged at the ends of his elaborate vest. “Miss Simmons, we discussed all of this, at length, when I brought the contracts to your office.”

  “Now I know there’s been a mistake. We’ve never met.”

  “It’s all right here, Miss Simmons.” He opened the leather binder and held it out for Rachel to see.

  There were two signatures, hers and Michael’s. Sure enough, there was a clause saying they were to attend in costumes or formal attire and serve the guests.

  Rachel rubbed her forehead in frustration. She would never agree to a contract that required her to serve. Flour, eggs, and sugar she could handle, but she was horrible with demanding customers. It must have been another little detail Michael forgot to share with her. Like their empty checking account or the lease that only had his name on it.

  Her mind whirled. There wasn’t time to call in a favor from anyone she knew, and she couldn’t afford to hire a server for the night. Any hope she had of seeing the ball vanished as did her hopes for having the van repainted. She’d just handed Louis an easy way not to pay what he owed, but keep all her product.

  “You’ll have to go downstairs to costuming. They’ll have something that fits you. And best do it quickly, Miss Simmons. The service staff is expected to attend the opening ceremony with the guests.”

  With that, Louis clapped the binder closed and scampered off in the opposite direction.

  Rachel took a moment to calm her ragged nerves. “Bastard could have warned me that it wasn’t a standard contract.”

  Even as she said it, part of her was glad he hadn’t. She’d have blown her budget on a server, or refused the contract if she’d known ahead of time. Her bank account couldn’t afford either. Her little business wouldn’t survive if word got around that she’d blown a contract for Callisto’s Masquerade.

  Rachel made sure the plastic wrap on the trays was secure and made her way down to costuming. At least she’d get to see the costumes. The rest just wasn’t meant to be.

  Read more of Dirk and Rachel’s story in Alpha Unmasked.

  Commander Mavros Umthrane glimpses the petite pleasure slave trembling on the auction block, and vows to possess her. The cost?

  Immaterial.

  The fragile look in her eyes stirs a savage need inside him. Without a second thought, he buys the lovely girl. She comes at a hefty price but she's perfect. Innocent. Beautiful. He's certain she'll satisfy his dark need for complete control.

  Kristin Kalii is fugitive serving a life sentence in prison, until an alien warlord purchases her as his slave. He is powerful, commanding, brutal. And he frightens her. Despite his menacing demeanor Kristin thinks she sees hints of tenderness in the fearsome warrior.

  Mavros demands she surrender to all his twisted desires and insists on her total submission, but when the lines between desire and survival blur, will she find the strength to surrender?

  Or will Kristin lose the battle for the ruthless dominant who owns her?

  CLAN BEAR: 10 STEAMY BEAR SHIFTER ROMANCES

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  1LIAM'S BRIDE: Clan Conroy Brides #1 Secrets. Desire. Surprise pregnancy. A BBW romance.

  2ALPHONSO'S BABY: Clan Conroy Brides #2 Bear shifter Alphonso shunned his curvy mate Tamar to protect her from his dark past... but when he discovers he is the father of her baby, will he take the risk in order to raise their child? A BWWM BBW romance.

  3NORELLE'S BEAR: Clan Conroy Brides #3 A rebel Alpha billionaire. A beautiful, exiled Bear. A chance at love… but only if they break the Law.

  4BEAR PRINCE: Royal Bears #1 A curvy, small town ballerina. A Bear Prince yearning for his mate. An archaic law forbidding them to wed... A BWWM BBW romance.

  5BEAR PRINCESS: Royal Bears #2 A Princess who sacrifices love for duty... a King planning to seize his mate...

  6BEAR QUEEN: Royal Bears #3 (Includes bonus short HEA story, BEAR QUEEN'S BABY) The Bear Queen has a fence around her heart. The Alpha Clan Chief has an ax to chop it down. Their enemy lurks, waiting for an opportunity to strike...

  7BEAR'S TOUCH: Clan Healer #1 A Healer who can kill with a Touch. An Alpha Bear determined to save his son. Will they clash- or will they accept their bond?

  8BEAR'S EMBRACE: Clan Healer #2 Her alpha mate in jail. A rogue Dragon shifter on the loose. An unexpected threat to her new, fragile pregnancy.

  9BEAR'S TREASURE: Clan Healer #3 An Ancient Dragon. An immortal witch. A Healer determined to protect her baby from both.

  10WHAT A BEAR WANTS: A standalone stepbro shifter romance set in the same world. Curvy human Tamsin loves a forbidden male, the son of the Clan Alpha. She knows she can't have him- wouldn't their union tear the family apart?

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  Thank you for downloading Angel Awakening! We hope you enjoyed and please feel free to leave a review for readers to know what you liked/didn’t like about the story.

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  S.A. Ravel is an avid reader, writer, nature lover, and all around geek-of-all-trades. She honed her passion for storytelling as a teen. A wanderer at heart, Miss Ravel eventually traded the misty shores and towering redwoods of Humboldt Country for the concrete jungles of Los Angeles. She writes steamy tales about Alpha males and the curvy, strong women who love them.

  Join S.A. Ravel’s paranormal New Release list!

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  www.amazon.com/S.A.-Ravel/e/B01K5JDK5C

  About Emma Alisyn

  Emma Alisyn writes paranormal romance because teaching high school biology wasn’t like how it is on television. Her lions, tigers, and bears will most interest readers who like their alphas strong, protective and smokin’ hot; their heroines feisty, brainy and bootilicious; and their stories with lots of chemistry, tension and plenty of tender moments.

  @emmaalisyn

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  emmaalisyn.com

 

 

 
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