Chapter One
Warriors, leather-clad fighting machines with arsenals of weapons deftly hidden beneath their coats. They were gladiators who fought to the death and belonged in an arena.
Not striding through a hotel lobby in Amish Country.
That’s where Alek Foress had found himself twenty-odd years ago protecting Nikolaus, the Kind prince. In fucking Lancaster County.
All these years later, back in the California high desert, he was still addicted to the bastard’s blood and there were times he swore he smelled like a stinking lion.
“Damn you’re in a nasty mood.” His friend’s laughter rang out in the little corner of the club Alek had chosen to hide in. The sound scraped his already raw nerves. “You striped beasts always smelled worse than us.”
“Case, I don’t need any shit from you.” From the corner of his eye Alek saw Tres heading their way. He took in her green hair and curvy body before facing Case. The man grinned widely as his mate approached, a grin that reminded Alek he’d done the right thing by hiring Tres to handle Case’s club. Initially his friend had objected to his swanky voyeur club being run by a snow leopard shifter with green hair. But the spunky little cat had won the white lion’s heart and soul.
“You both stink and have fleas.” Tres had read her mate’s mind. “Damn warm cats.”
“Hey, baby.” Case’s large hands encircled Tres’ waist.
Alek slouched deeper into the chair as he watched Case pull his mate into his lap. These two were one of the happiest couples he knew. They were also part of the reason for his frame of mind.
Alek would never have a mate or know the kind of happiness they shared.
Case nibbled on Tres’ neck and lifted her up. “Can you see to things for a bit? I need to talk to Alek.”
She leaned in and kissed Case on the lips. “I’m famished and unless you want me biting a customer, don’t be too long.”
“Greedy wench. I’ll take care of you later.”
Alek watched her disappear down the hallway of the Looking Glass. He spun on Case and cut him down before he started.
“Here’s where you tell me so what if I have lion’s blood running through my veins and you’re going to give me the bullshit about being lucky I have a tie to the royal family.” He lifted his glass, downed the Wild Turkey and fixed Case with a deadly stare. “How would you feel walking around for twenty damn years with a hard-on for a fucking male cat?” Lips drawn into a grimace, he ground the words between clenched teeth, “We don’t screw males.” Standing, he leaned and banged both hands flat down on the table. Alek lowered himself until he was eye to eye with his friend. “And now would not be the time to tell me to ‘relax, it’s the vampyre blood’ or ‘it’s no big deal’.” He straightened up, planning to leave.
His head flew back with a snap and his body was flung down into the chair. It tipped back precariously on two legs.
“I haven’t said anything yet.” Case glared at him with gleaming red eyes. “But someone needs to so you can get on with your life and stop this bullshit.”
“What the hell was that?” Alek rubbed his jaw.
“That was a white lion full of vampyre piss and vinegar trying to save his best friend from a life of loneliness.”
He sat back and studied Case Tangara. He’d known he had strength but hadn’t suspected anything like this. For now, his only option was to listen.
Alek and Case were both part of the Kind species of big cats infected with blood of the undead. Both served as Sovereign warriors, known as the Reign, to protect the weaker of their brethren—the Sovereign Kind cats who refused to accept the vampyre way of life by ingesting human blood. They were animals and it was what they wanted to remain.
Case continued, “We are what we are. Embrace your vamp powers and deal with it.”
Alek’s mind wandered as Case babbled on about it being okay if a man wanted to make love to another man.
A thousand years ago the undead had invaded the lions’ ancestral caves in the Balkan Mountains and the sons of bitches had contaminated the cats with their vile blood curse. Unfortunately the lions carried the thirst across continents to a multitude of animals. He used to lead the Reign. Stripped of his status, he didn’t give a shit anymore. His downfall came from spending too much time in women. Literally. He pined away even now, his cock throbbing in anticipation of the wet pleasure found between a willing set of shapely legs. Furry or not, he’d change to suit the situation.
Leading the warriors hadn’t been his idea anyway. He’d assumed the position to stay near the prince.