Shifters of Grrr 1 (39 page)

He stared at my eyes for one final defiant moment, then looked down at his feet and whimpered. Satisfied, I turned away from him and exited the octagon, making my way toward the arena’s exit.
 

I’d done it. I’d reasserted my dominance. Reclaimed my position. And after this, I knew, no one would ever attempt to challenge me again. As far as this club was concerned, I was and would always be alpha. I no longer had a reason to go, to fight, to prove myself.

And considering the fact that there was a gorgeous woman waiting back in my penthouse, that was just fine with me.

EPILOGUE

I stood inside the cabin, hand in hand with the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, and gazed out at the view. For miles on end, there was nothing but trees and mountains, capped by a sapphire blue sky that went on forever.
 

“This is some place you have here,” I said, turning back to our hosts.
 

“I like to think so,” Andrea said, smiling. “But as much renovation as we’ve done, I still can’t get past that view. It’s the best, isn’t it love?” She turned to her husband, Chase Hammer.
 

Chase nodded. “Feel free to stay as long as you’d like. It’s the least I can offer.”

Megan, beside me, tugged at my arm, forcing me to gaze upon her beautiful face once again. “I think we should take them up on that, Kalvin. God knows we could use a break from the city.”

In the weeks since the final bout with Darrel in the arena, life had been bliss. True to his word, he’d returned ownership of the company to me the following morning. Apparently, he had drafted a living will that returned the company’s stocks to me in the instance of his disappearance or death as well. So even if I
had
gone through with killing him, I’d still have my company back. If nothing else, the man didn’t break promises. After some thinking and much to his dismay, I turned control of the company over to Tony. Right after I axed Brandon, Jason, and Mark.

Megan had passed her exams with flying colors and was still in the process of joining Doctors Without Borders. I’d told her over and over again that she’d never have to so much as lift a finger if she didn’t want to, but she assured me that she still wanted to do good in the world. With my newfound freedom from the corporate world, I’d decided that I would accompany her in her travels.
 

After hearing about the events in New York, Chase had gotten in touch with me, offered a sincere apology, and invited Megan and myself down to his cabin in Boone, North Carolina. With a grudging reluctance, I’d accepted the invitation at Megan’s behest, and here we were. I’d since learned that Chase had sold his stake in Hammer Industries several months ago in order to spend time with his own mate, Andrea Sloan. Darrel taking control of the company was just a side effect of that, and his identity as a shifter was something that came to Chase as a surprise. The fact that he couldn’t smell the stink of the big cat on the man said a lot about Chase’s prior lack of closeness with his bear, something that he claimed had changed upon moving to Appalachia.
 

Still, one thing that Chase and I could agree on was the fact that our mates needed and
deserved
every ounce of our attention. And that was something that we were both more than happy to give them.

“I agree,” I said, finally, staring into my mate’s eyes. “And besides, I could get used to this.” I motioned back to the wilderness outside the window. The bear inside me rumbled his agreement.

“It’s settled then,” Andrea spoke up. “Make yourselves at home and stay as long as you’d like!”

With that, Andrea grabbed her mate and sped off to the other side of the cabin in order to, apparently, give Megan and I some time to get comfortable.

“You know,” Megan started, leaning against my frame, her soft curves melding perfectly with my hard muscles. “I could see us raising a family here.”

I glanced down at her, a bit startled at that. Then, I caught the twinkle in her eye and, for the first time, noticed the glow on her skin. I couldn’t help but grin at her, the joy building up quickly inside me.

“A cub of my own,” I whispered, letting the thought take hold of me. “And to think, I get to share the experience with
you.”
 

Megan beamed at me, “And I, with you.”

Then I leaned in and kissed her as deeply and passionately as I could for a long moment, before sweeping her off her feet and carrying her to the nearest bedroom, kicking the door shut behind me as we entered.

The End

About the Author

Raised among the Smoky Mountains of North Carolina, Mercy May has long had a passion for the wild, dangerous, and paranormal. Today, she channels that passion into her writing, working to develop and produce stories about protective, strong and often ferocious alpha shifters and the beautiful curvy girls they so often fall in love with.

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Trancing the Tiger - Rachael Slate

CHAPTER ONE

Penang, Malaysia

554 days since the first outbreak of the Red Death

I can’t let her die alone.

Her father’s words haunted her mind. Lucy crumpled the red envelope in her hands, one hot tear sliding down her cheek. Shoving aside the past, she shouldered her black duffle and headed toward the exit.

Hot, sweltry air blasted over her as she filed down the staircase of the private plane with the other dozen passengers.

Her driver proved easy enough to spot, sporting a bold-lettered sign with her name:
Miss Lucy Yeoh.

He was tall…tall enough that she had to crane her neck to meet his gaze. The man dwarfed her five-seven frame. A driver’s hat and dark sunglasses concealed most of his features. She stared at the lower half of his face.
Hmm.
What matched that sexy mouth and strong jaw? Amazing how he wasn’t sweating buckets in his tailored uniform. His broad shoulders and expansive chest filled the fancy suit exquisitely. She tilted her head in appreciation. With his muscular build, he looked more like a bodyguard than a personal driver.
Heck, he probably is.

“That’s me. I’m Lucy.” She offered her hand with a friendly smile. He stared at her through those mirrored shades, pivoted, and guided her through the airport to his waiting car.

She jerked her hand back.
Guess he’s not the chatty type.
Gripping her bag, she followed him through the air-conditioned hub and back out into the blasting humidity.

He opened the trunk of his silver town car and held out his hand for her luggage, but she shook her head and clutched the wide strap of her duffle. She didn’t have many possessions left in the world, and what she did own was in this bag.

Letters her parents had written to her. One family photograph. Her mother’s bracelet and her father’s pocket watch. This red envelope in her hand and, inside, two crimson ribbons bestowed by what remained of America’s government—the closest she’d ever come to a grave for her parents.

It wasn’t a lot, but no one owned much these days. If an item couldn’t be traded for food stubs, medicine, or batteries, it was as good as garbage.

Not anymore.
At least, not in this part of the world.

The driver opened the door for her. Casting a furtive “thanks” at him, she slipped inside the car. She plopped her bag onto her lap and smoothed the crumpled envelope over the top, sighing into the air conditioning. Although she’d grown up in Stockton, California, where the summers were quite hot, it’d be a few weeks before she acclimated to the oppressive embrace of this sultry heat.

The second the driver slid onto his seat, he lowered the partition. With those damned reflective sunglasses, she wasn’t sure if he waited for her instructions or not. Or—she swallowed hard—if he was sizing her up. His scrutiny made her feel like an outsider, as though he wished she’d scurry back to where she belonged.

Her left ear twitched. Wincing, she squeezed her lobe to stop the tic. She lifted her lashes and, through the mirror, she glimpsed the quirk in the corner of his mouth. His face reset in an instant, and she frowned. Had she imagined the expression? She shifted on her seat until he switched on the radio and the blast of hip-hop music blocked out any requirement for conversation.

Private car. Badass driver/bodyguard. Her uncle, Xiaodan Yeoh, had to be insanely wealthy. Especially compared to the world she’d left behind. Since Day Zero of the pandemic outbreak, most of Asia managed to scrape by, unscathed by the Red Death. Aptly named because, in the final stages, those infected cried tears of blood.

Like Mom and Dad.

As the car sped away, she braced her hand over her heart. Her parents had been alive when they’d been seized by men in hazmat suits. She hadn’t been with them when they’d passed and never had the chance to say a final goodbye.

The hairs on the back of her neck rose, and she flicked her gaze to the partition, but the driver focused dead ahead.
Huh. Weird.
She could’ve sworn he’d been watching her.

Despite the strict travel and quarantine regulations, did he question whether she was infected? Was that why he refused to shake her hand? Or maybe his brooding flowed along the lines of why she was important enough to be granted such an exorbitant ticket here.

Yeah, me too.

The airport faded into the background, the palm trees giving way to an urban sprawl of stark white and glass buildings as they approached Gurney Drive. Nary a speck of litter soiled the pristine streets. Each car they passed cost more than the last. Malaysia thrived, especially after PETRONAS—the country’s leading energy company—had discovered an underwater oil reserve several years ago.

The car pulled to the curb, wrenching Lucy from her thoughts. She stuffed the red envelope into the side pocket of her duffle and peered out the window. Her uncle’s condo building soared at least six hundred feet high. Whitewashed concrete, interspersed with mirrored glass, comprised the façade. Lush, tropical landscaping encircled the diamond-shaped footprint.

The driver strode to her door and held it open.

She tilted her head and stepped out of the car, trying to determine which floor would be hers.

The driver closed her door, regarding her through those dark shades for an intense moment, before he slid back inside and drove away. Apparently, he wasn’t her bodyguard, after all.

Her attention shifted to the entrance. A man exited the lobby’s sliding glass doors. As he descended the stairs, the family resemblance sealed his identity. Her uncle was shorter and lankier than her dad, but his eyes bore the same shade of chestnut.

My uncle.
A man she’d never met, whom her father had never even mentioned existed until the night before her parents had been removed.

This man was the only family she had left in the world.

She steeled herself, fighting the urge to turn around and hop on a plane home. Back to everything she knew. Her father’s last request had been for her to come here. This was home now.

Inclining her head in deference, she addressed him using the proper term for her father’s younger brother. “
Nĭn hăo, Shūshu
.” Although Mandarin was her second language, her family hadn’t been traditional like she assumed her uncle would be.

Her breath gushed out; strong arms wrapped around her, lifting her feet off the ground until her toes grazed the stone pathway.

“
Zhínǚ
. My niece. Lucy.” His embrace tightened, threatening to cut off her air.

A hug was the last affection she expected from a stranger, relative or not. No one hugged anymore—not since a single touch had become as deadly as a bullet to the head.

“Oh, sorry.” He rushed the words in English. He must have realized his tight grip was suffocating her. Either that or she’d turned blue.

“It’s okay.” Her hand flew to her throat. She gasped, wincing a smile. It had been so long since anyone had touched her, tears threatened to break free from the corners of her eyes. She rapidly blinked them away.

“No.” His affable tone sharpened. “No, it’s not okay. What my brother did, leaving you alone in the world…” Features drawn into a steel mask, he surveyed her, stripping away her guise of confidence. “Well…” He nodded as though satisfied with the results of his perusal. “At least you’re here now. Safe. I trust they vaccinated you?”

“Yes.” She rubbed at the injection site on her left arm. Her ticket to Malaysia wasn’t the only thing worth more than its weight in gold. Passage to Asia included the elusive Red Death vaccine, which had barely wended its way into North America. The Chinese had been the first to manufacture it. While they provided aid to other countries, vaccinating an entire world against a disease proved unfeasible. Vaccines took time, required testing. As the virus morphed, so too had their vaccination efforts.

Despite being exposed more than once to the lethal bug and never getting sick, she’d still had to be injected. The Malaysian government wasn’t taking any chances the outbreaks devastating the rest of the world would break loose on their soil too.