Author: J.D. Tyler

“They’ll make it,” he said to his mate. “Wait and see.”

“I hope so. I love them both.” She turned to him, vivid blue eyes sparkling. “Almost as much as I love you.”

“Oh, my mate wants something,” he teased. “What could it be?”

“Hmm, I don’t know.” She pretended to think. “You, sprawled out naked on our bed?”

His cock stirred to life, suddenly taking an interest in the conversation. “That, my beautiful mate, can be arranged.”

“Now?”

“Oh, yes. Right now.”

Wasting no time, Zan pulled her to her feet and led her back inside to their quarters. Then he undressed her slowly, kissing and licking, savoring every gorgeous inch of her creamy skin as each part was exposed. Shoulders, breasts, tummy. And lower.

When he had her panting for more, he shed his clothes and made her scenario a reality, spreading himself on the bed, cock resting hard against his thigh. Crawling over his body, she returned the favor, nibbling, laving, and stroking his cock and balls until he thought he’d explode.

Then she straddled his lap and took him inside her slick heat, and he did just that. As she moved on top of him, he couldn’t stop the orgasm from erupting, and he emptied his seed deep inside his mate with a cry of completion that rocked his soul.

“I love you,” he said as they floated down together.

“And I love you too. So much.”

Rolling them, he tucked her back into his front, spoons in a drawer. Just breathed her sweet scent and counted himself a very, very lucky wolf.

He was immortal and mated to the woman of his dreams. Yes, there were challenging times ahead for him, for his mate, and for their Pack. For her father and Damien.

But they would make it, he was certain. They had love.

And he was living proof that sometimes love truly could conquer all.

I forgive you, Daddy. And I love you.

The words Nick had been desperate to hear for so long. Selene was the light of his life, his only source of happiness. She wanted them to be a family—all of them, including Damien. At one time, he would have sold his soul to make that happen. And now?

Would it be enough to save him?

Rounding the corner of the building, he rejoined the party, but kept to the fringes. His men and their mates gave him space, sensing he wanted to be left alone. Under a tree, he leaned one shoulder against the rough bark.

And that’s when he saw Calla.

She’d arrived late, apparently, and was greeted by Tarron. Brother and sister were all smiles as he hugged her warmly and began introducing her to Nick’s friends and colleagues. Watching her as he’d done that day in the forest, but with much less privacy, his heart began to pound. His palms began to sweat.

Calla was beauty personified, wrapped in an ethereal package of sexy vampire.

Vampire. His heart pounded harder, for a different reason now, and his skin grew cold. Carter Darrow had been a vampire, too. His nightmare, his secret shame.

You’re mine now, Darrow had murmured against his skin. Say it.

I’m yours.

What do you want, wolf?

Drink from me. Take it all.

Patience. I’ll do as you wish. After we’ve enjoyed this fully.

He had enjoyed it. He’d begged Darrow to do it and had craved more.

God help him, he craved more even now.

Suddenly, Nick realized that Tarron and Calla were headed his way. As they approached, the pair gave him a friendly smile, and it was obvious that introductions were about to take place. Nick pasted on a smile and steeled himself, ready to brave out a few moments for the sake of politeness.

“Nick, I don’t believe you two have had the opportunity to meet,” Tarron said, gesturing to the vision at his side. “This is my sister, Princess Calla Shaw. Calla, Nick Westfall, commander of the Alpha Pack.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Princess,” he said.

She smiled, showing the tips of her fangs. “Just Calla, please.”

Nick took her hand—and a shock traveled up his arm, taking his breath. Her wonderful, tantalizing scent reached him first. Then the vision hit him so suddenly, there was no time to prepare.

Calla, wearing white. Sobbing on her wedding altar.

Alone.

Tears were streaming down her lovely face, and she was devastated. Heart shattered. She’d gambled on love and lost.

He came back to himself and found his guests staring at him in alarm. “It’s all right,” he said hoarsely. “I’m fine. I’m sorry, but will you both excuse me for a few moments?”

“Wait,” Calla called out.

But he kept moving. Strode inside the building and made for the safety of his office, where he could think. Reaching his space, he closed and locked the door and then dropped into the chair behind his desk.

“Oh, God,” he groaned, burying his face in his hands. “It can’t be.”

His body flashed hot and cold. Grew clammy with fear. Lowering his hands, he reached for his desk drawer. Slid it open.

And stared for a long time at the gleaming pistol inside.

His hand shook. After a time, he closed the drawer, leaving the weapon untouched. But it was tempting. It would be too easy to end the pain of submitting to Darrow. The nightmares.

The dreams of what could never be.

Against all odds, fate had given him another chance at love—with a woman he could never touch.

A woman he couldn’t allow to touch him. To feed from him.

The very idea of another pair of fangs sliding into his skin, lips sucking, pulling at his life’s blood, the compulsion making him beg . . . He couldn’t do it. And so, fate had screwed him one last time.

Because Princess Calla Shaw, vampire, was his Bondmate.