Alpha Temptation: Sanmere Shifters Romance Collection

by Lola Gabriel

  5

  One Hundred Years Ago

  Esmerelda looked up in surprise as Isla came storming into the library where she was sitting reading a book.

  “I didn’t do anything,” she said quickly as she saw the angry expression on Isla’s face.

  “I know that,” Isla said, waving away Esmerelda’s denial. “We both know what would happen if you undid the curse and I don’t think you’re stupid enough to risk that, are you?”

  Isla had regularly reminded Esmerelda that it would be her family who would pay the price if she undid the curse. She seemed to enjoy reminding Esmerelda of this and watching her squirm. Esmerelda played along, promising she wouldn’t undo it, acting like she was afraid of Isla’s threats and that was why the curse thrived. The truth was, Esmerelda couldn’t undo the curse even if she wanted to now. The only way it could be broken was via the prophecy and Esmerelda was really starting to give up hope of that ever happening.

  Still, she kept that secret from Isla, letting Isla think she could be the one to undo it. The last thing she needed was Isla going off and finding and destroying the prophecy, and if she thought it was out there and could spoil her fun, that was exactly what she would try to do.

  For all it had been so long, and Esmerelda was almost sure the time for the prophecy to come true had passed, she still clung to a tiny ray of hope, and if Isla took that from her, she thought she would likely go mad. If the man the prophecy called for was a shifter, and she was sure he would be, then he would be immortal and he might find his destiny one day, even if it was a long time in the future. She had to have that belief to cling to. She just had to.

  “Umm…what happened?” Esmerelda asked when it became clear Isla wasn’t going to volunteer the information about why she was angry without Esmerelda asking her for it.

  It was almost like Isla had forgotten Esmerelda was there for a moment. She paced the floor, not looking at her. When Esmerelda spoke to her, Isla glanced back up at her and looked a bit shocked for a second. She soon recovered and set her face back to neutral. She paused for a moment and then she seemed to make the decision to tell Esmerelda what was going on.

  “Does the word Sanmere mean anything to you?” Isla asked.

  “No,” Esmerelda said, shaking her head. “I’ve never heard of it.”

  Isla stopped pacing and dropped into a chair opposite Esmerelda. She studied her face for a moment and then she sat back in the chair and sighed.

  “You’re telling the truth,” she said.

  It was a statement rather than a question, but Esmerelda nodded her head anyway.

  “So, you know how when male shifters try to turn human women, some of them make it, but the majority of them die?” Isla said.

  Esmerelda nodded her head again, unsure where this was going, but finding herself interested in it all the same.

  “The ones who don’t die have a unique and rare protein in their blood called Sanmere. Those women can turn safely and they can produce female children,” Isla explained. “Do you see why I’m angry now?”

  “I do, but if it’s a rare protein, it’s not going to make a massive difference to you, is it?” Esmerelda pointed out. “How likely is it, really, that any shifters will find those women and mate with them?”

  “Oh, that’s it!” Isla exclaimed. She jumped up out of the chair and clapped her hands together loudly. A laugh escaped her lips. “That’s it. How didn’t I think of that until you suggested it?”

  Esmerelda didn’t have an answer to that question. At least not one that she thought wouldn’t result in her being punished, so she kept her mouth shut for now.

  “This hasn’t diminished my hold on the shifter world. It’s only increased it,” Isla said with a smile on her face that on anyone else would be described as dreamy, but on Isla looked more menacing than anything. “You were right—the human women with the Sanmere protein are rare and would be difficult to find by the average shifter. I will start a team of people who are trained to hunt these women. They can sell them to the highest bidder, and I’ll take a cut and we can control who has which mate. Oh, Esmerelda, you really are a genius.”

  “That’s not at all what I meant,” Esmerelda said quickly, horror seizing her when she realized what she had started.

  “I shall call them my Matchmakers,” Isla said, ignoring Esmerelda’s protests. “You know, you’re not so bad to have around. I’ll tell Mary to make you a special dinner tonight.”

  She flounced away, leaving Esmerelda alone in the library once more, wondering what on earth she had inadvertently set in motion. She sat staring out of the window, watching a bird hopping from branch to branch in the large oak tree in front of the library window. It fluttered away and Esmerelda felt a stab of envy in her stomach. What she would give to be able to do the same.

  She started slightly when Mary spoke from beside her. She hadn’t heard the woman come into the library or cross the floor to stand at the window beside her chair.

  “Shit, Mary! How do you manage to sneak around like that?” Esmerelda started. She turned to face the woman and the words died in her throat when she saw the long, angry-looking red scar on Mary’s cheek. “What happened?”

  “Isla was pissed off on her way in,” Mary shrugged. “She cut me and used her magic to make sure the scar won’t heal. She seemed to be in a much better mood as she left, though.”

  “Yes. Yes, she was,” Esmerelda said, the weight of her unintentional suggestion pressing down on her like a weight on her chest.

  6

  Present Day

  Esmerelda sat in her favorite spot in the library, looking out onto the grounds of the castle. Evening was just starting to fall, that time between light and dark that Esmerelda loved. She pushed her window open a crack, breathing in the cool night air and smelling the freshly cut grass on the breeze. It seemed Mary liked this time of day too, because she always chose it to go outside and work on the garden and tonight was no exception. Esmerelda could see her now, crouched low, tending to one of the flower beds. She watched her for a moment, wishing she could go outside, even if only onto the castle grounds. She hoped that Mary knew how lucky she was to be able to come and go as she pleased.

  Esmerelda started, her eyes opening wider as she saw a shadow moving behind Mary. Her shock turned to something stronger when she realized the shadow wasn’t a shadow at all. It was a man dressed in black jeans and a black t-shirt. Esmerelda had no idea who the man was or why he was here, but as she watched him stalking closer to Mary, she felt something inside of herself, something like recognition. She didn’t consciously recognize the man, yet her sixth sense, her witch sense, told her she was meant to know him. If not now, then soon. She felt no fear as she watched the man, only curiosity.

  Silently, Esmerelda kept on watching the man as he crept closer and closer to Mary. He paused, seeming to be waiting for her to turn around and catch him or something. Esmerelda wasn’t sure what he was waiting for, but she held her breath, waiting with him. She felt as though she should be afraid of the man, and yet she wasn’t. She felt at peace, calm, as though the man was bringing her some sort of inner contentment. It was a bizarre feeling, but it was far from unpleasant.

  The man didn’t have to wait long for Mary to do his bidding, although Esmerelda saw now that he hadn’t been waiting for her to turn around and recognize him. He had been waiting for a chance to sneak closer to her while she was in a position that would slow down her defenses. Esmerelda considered calling out to Mary; her warning was on the tip of her tongue. But that feeling inside of her stopped her. That feeling told her to let this play out, that the man had a bigger purpose here than some issues with Mary. That somehow, this stranger was a friend.

  As Esmerelda watched Mary, she sat back on her heels and wiped the back of one gloved hand over her forehead, wiping away the sweat her work had brought forth there. The man paused for a moment as if gathering his courage and then he began to move forward once more. He moved faster than when E
smerelda had first spotted him, but his movements were every bit as silent and stealthy as they had been then. He broke into a run as he neared Mary. He pushed one arm behind himself, and Esmerelda saw a flash of silver. He had a knife. The flash was the slowly setting sun glinting off the blade. Esmerelda held her breath, mesmerized but still not afraid.

  The man was almost on Mary when she started to turn around. Esmerelda knew then that it was already too late for her. The way she had started to turn had given the stranger, who didn’t feel like a stranger to her, an advantage. He thrust out with his knife, pushing it between Mary’s ribs and into her heart.

  Esmerelda’s hand came up, covering her mouth, covering her disbelief. For all she had known on some level that this had been the man’s intention all along, watching it happen was still a shock to her.

  Mary’s wound was bleeding freely. Her hands pressed against it and her face showed her astonishment from being ambushed in this way. The man reached out and pulled his blade free of Mary’s chest. Esmerelda waited for him to finish the job, but he just stood there, watching Mary as though he thought he had done enough.

  Of course he hadn’t done anything close to enough to put a demon down, and Esmerelda saw Mary’s hands as they fell away from the wound and the flow of blood slowing down as the wound healed. Mary smiled at him, a cold smile that made Esmerelda wince. Mary didn’t take any prisoners and this man had really fucked up by not finishing what he had started while he had the chance.

  It was only when Esmerelda had that thought that she realized something. The man hadn’t expected Mary to recover from that wound because he didn’t know she was a demon. He thought she was a witch like her. That was when it all made sense to Esmerelda; he was the man from the prophecy—Atlas, the fearsome black dragon. He was going to get Mary out of the way and then come for her.

  Esmerelda ignored her realization for the moment—it didn’t matter if he wanted to kill her, it wasn’t like she could leave the castle and get away from him anyway. Isla had seen to that with a charm she had gotten her hands on that kept any magical creature from passing through it except those who had been treated to break it, and Esmerelda didn’t know how to achieve that status herself. She didn’t know what the treatment was.

  Enthralled now, Esmerelda watched as Mary started to bring her hands up again as she took a step towards the man—Atlas. His name is Atlas, Esmerelda thought to herself. It’s in the prophecy. Before Mary could act, Atlas’ arm came up and the knife blade in his hand ran across Mary’s throat.

  A wide slit opened up there and blood began to pour from the wound, but Esmerelda saw that this time, Atlas didn’t think that was enough. This time, he was going to finish the job.

  He ran the knife back the other way, opening the slit up wider, and when Mary collapsed and fell to the ground, Atlas went with her. He ran the knife back and forth across her throat until her head was no longer attached to her body.

  When it was done, Atlas stood looking down at the body for a moment, his shoulders heaving as he panted for breath. After a second or two, he moved away, heading deeper into the grounds. Esmerelda watched him, waiting for him to turn and head toward the castle and come and finish her off. What could she say to him to convince him to set her free instead of killing her?

  She had no idea, but it seemed that she was getting a short reprieve anyway. Atlas wasn’t coming towards the house yet. He had paused beside the pond, crouching down and washing the blood from his knife and his hands. Esmerelda was surprised when he straightened up and pushed the knife back away, but she figured it would come out again once he reached the castle.

  Instead of coming toward the castle, though, Atlas began heading back the way he had come from and Esmerelda frowned. Was he leaving? Was she wrong about him being Atlas? Was he just a local who had a problem with Mary? She didn’t know the answers to any of those questions. All she knew was that he was leaving the grounds and that somehow, she didn’t want him to go.

  She almost called out to him, but before she could make a sound, he glanced at the castle and she panicked, ducking down behind the windowsill so that he couldn’t see her. But before she had ducked away, she had gotten her first proper look at Atlas and she had liked what she saw. More than liked it.

  Atlas had dark brown skin and even darker brown eyes. His hair was neither long nor short, just at that lovely in-between length, and Esmerelda couldn’t help imagining how it would feel to push her hands into that hair and pull Atlas’ face down to hers. The fact that his mission was to kill her didn’t stop her from feeling drawn to him. Her pussy was wet, her clit throbbing, but it was more than that. She felt a connection to Atlas, and although she had never experienced the feeling for herself, she had heard enough talk of it to suspect that this was the feeling shifters got the first time they saw their one true mate. But no, Esmerelda thought, shaking her head. That can’t be true, can it?

  She hoped it could be, because if it could, then maybe she could convince him to let her go free after all. She peered back over the windowsill again, just in time to see Atlas leaving through a hole in the wall. That hole was new; he must have made it to gain entry to the grounds. Why would he be leaving, though? Even if he believed that his duty was to kill her, not free her, he must know he had to do something.

  Esmerelda gasped as the truth hit her. Atlas thought his mission was complete. He believed that Mary was her. She knew she had to do something to make him realize his mistake. The thought of her savior coming here and leaving without ever knowing she was in here was too much for her to bear. This was her one chance at leaving this place and she had to find a way to bring Atlas back.

  She thought she could at least get him to hear her out, and if she was wrong and he killed her, at this point, she thought that death would be preferable to being a prisoner for all eternity. Carrying the guilt that all of those women had been turned against their will, sold to shifters, and used as breeding machines was too much to bear.

  For a moment, desolation wrapped itself around Esmerelda’s heart. Atlas was gone and even if she called out to him now, he wouldn’t hear her. She sank down onto her back, fell into her bed, and looked up at the ceiling. She kept picturing Atlas, his beautiful eyes, his flawless skin, the way his body looked almost sculpted where he was so muscular.

  A thought hit her, and she sat up, smiling again. Maybe Atlas was meant to be her mate—maybe that was all part of this. Because if he was, then she knew how she could reach him. She could cast out her mind and link it with his whilst he was dreaming. She could plant herself in his dream and plead her case, and if he felt the connection that she felt, she knew he would come back for her.

  7

  Atlas had managed to get himself a room above a small pub in the town. It was a nice enough room, if a little small, but Atlas didn’t care about that. He planned to sleep, shower, and leave. He didn’t need any luxuries. He had been down to the bar over the course of the evening and had dinner and a couple of drinks. He had left after his third beer when he could no longer stop himself from yawning. He wasn’t surprised he was tired. To say he had had a long day would be the understatement of the century.

  He had lain in bed watching the little flat-screen TV on the wall for an hour or so. He now turned the TV off and snapped off the lamp beside the bed. He yawned again as he snuggled down underneath the duvet, and within minutes, he was deeply asleep and snoring.

  I move down a long, narrow corridor, heading for a door at the end of it. I have no idea where I am or what’s behind that door. All I know is that I have to get into that room. I reach the door and push it open. The room before me is all white—white ceiling, white walls, and a white floor. It’s empty of furniture and for a moment, I think it’s altogether empty, but then a woman steps forward, crossing the empty room and standing before me. She looks up at me and smiles and I feel my whole body come alive.

  The woman is a little bit shorter than me, her body curvy and beautiful. She has long, red hair th
at hangs down her back in curls. Her green eyes are so green they look fake, but somehow, I know they’re not. Her smile widens and flecks of gold dance in her eyes. Her red hair and green eyes are the only specks of color in the room. Even her dress is white.

  I reach out for her, unable to stop myself from touching her. She doesn’t pull away from me. Instead, she puts her hand over mine and squeezes it gently. My cock is hard and pulsing with desire, my body craving hers. My dragon is well and truly awakened, the lust pulsing out from him too.

  “I…who are you?” I whisper.

  “Esmerelda,” she says.

  I shake my head, no.

  “I killed Esmerelda. And she wasn’t beautiful, not like you are,” I reply.

  She smiles again and shakes her head.

  “That was Mary. She was evil to the core. You did the world a favor taking her out of it. I did cast the curse, Atlas. That much is true. But I need you to know that I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to cast the curse. Isla, the demon queen, forced me to do it. She threatened to hurt my family if I didn’t do what she wanted,” Esmerelda says.

  She looks up at me again, her eyes wide and innocent-looking.

  “You do believe me, don’t you?” she says.

  I feel myself nodding. I do believe her. I don’t know why, but somehow, I just know that she’s telling me the truth. She looks relieved at my words and she grabs my hand in both of hers, holding it tightly.

  “To break the curse, you have to come back to the castle and find a way to free me,” she says.

  “Okay,” I nod.