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Shadow Tribe 1

Rakeym

On a hike in the woods surrounding Brac Village, Kelson Carswell
is tranquillized and kidnapped, thrown into a place made of

nightmares. He finds a way to escape but must leave others
behind in an attempt to get help. But his plans are short-lived
when one of his captors chases Kelson down, determined to end

his life. When his rescuer turns out to be a man from the feared
Shadow elf race, Kelson is cast into a world filled with chaos,

deceit, and loneliness.

Rakeym Dareon is the leader of the Shadow elves—a tribe that

despises his authority and wishes him dead. The old ways are
killing his race, but with his people so deeply entrenched in

tradition, the search for an easy solutions seems futile. Amidst this
stonewalled society, Rakeym's very foundation is rocked when he
discovers someone who will not only change who he is, but bring

him to his knees as a once-frozen heart thaws.

Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Contemporary, Paranormal,
Shape-shifter
Length: 41,123 words

RAKEYM

Shadow Tribe 1

Lynn Hagen

THE LYNN HAGEN MANLOVE COLLECTION

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
The Lynn Hagen ManLove Collection

RAKEYM
Copyright © 2014 by Lynn Hagen
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62741-572-9

First E-book Publication: April 2014

Cover design by Emma Nicole
All art and logo copyright © 2014 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be
reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including
electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without
express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance
to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers

Dear Readers,

If you have purchased this copy of Rakeym by Lynn Hagen from
BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank
you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy

This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or
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The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying
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This is Lynn Hagen’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect
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Amanda Hilton, Publisher

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www.BookStrand.com

RAKEYM

Shadow Tribe 1

LYNN HAGEN

Chapter One

“You picked the wrong day to come out here.” Kelson pulled his

hoodie over his head, his clothes becoming quickly soaked. His shoes
squished as he continued to hurry through the forest. “Why didn’t you
check the forecast before you asked me to go hiking with you?”

Emery held his jacket over his head, hurrying along the path

behind Kelson. His dark hair was already matted to his head, the
rivulets of water streaking down his face getting into his eyes and
mouth. “Why would I think to check the weather when the skies were
bright and sunny earlier?”

A twig snapped, the sharp sound alerting Kelson. At first, he

thought it was a deer or other animal trying to run for shelter in this
driving rain. But now he wasn’t so sure. The sound was growing
closer, not fading further away. But who else would be out here in this
kind of weather? Another hiker like them? Poor shmuck was probably
as drenched as Kelson and Emery.

“Are you sure we’re going the right way?” Emery spoke louder,

the rain making it difficult to hear.

“Yes.” Kelson dodged a large puddle that was quickly turning into

a small pool. He wasn’t sure why he bothered. His feet were already
soaked through and his jeans were like wet, denim logs clinging to his

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legs. Still, with the way his luck was going, there was probably a
large sinkhole under that pool waiting to suck him in and drown him.

His hands became cold and clammy, but he had nowhere warm to

put them. His jacket was just as soggy as the rest of him. Kelson
began to shiver, hurrying in the direction where Emery had parked his
car. The ground was becoming quickly washed out, the smell of
ozone clinging heavily in the air. He wiped the rain from his eyes,
blinking to see the trail he and Emery had taken. The ground was
disappearing, becoming a stream instead of a path that would lead
them out of here.

Emery grabbed the back of Kelson’s thick sweater. “I think we’re

going the wrong way!”

Kelson stopped to look around, pulling the edge of his hoodie

outward to try and stop the constant drip getting into his eyes. “No,
I’m almost sure this is the right way. We have to keep going. That
small bridge we crossed is going to be flooded out soon.”

Emery’s eyes widened, as if he’d forgotten the small river they’d

crossed when first venturing into the woods on their hike. Kelson
glanced over his shoulder, hearing something behind him. He scanned
the area, but all he saw was a wet forest.

“Let’s go before it’s too late!” Emery shoved Kelson’s shoulder to

keep them moving. They had hiked two miles into the woods before
the rain had started. Kelson guessed that they were still a ways from
the car. If it weren’t for the bridge that could trap them, Kelson
wouldn’t try to rush out of here.

How much wetter could he get? Kelson sped up, trying to hurry

back to the car so he could escape this torrential downpour.

“Wait up!”
Kelson turned to see Emery hurrying toward him. He knew his

friend was a city boy, and the idea of exploring the woods had
fascinated him, but Emery was out of shape, huffing by the time he
made it to Kelson.

Rakeym 9

Before they began to move again, Kelson froze, hearing muffled

voices close-by. He normally would have checked to see if whoever it
was needed help, but the wet hairs on his cold neck stood on end. His
instincts made tight knots form in his stomach. “We need to hurry.”

Though the rain drowned out a lot of noises, Kelson could still

hear the muffled voices. Even hurrying down the path, those voices
kept pace.

“Wait!” Emery yelled.
Kelson spun around, stumbling back when his foot caught on a

root. His body twisted as he fell, his chest hitting the ground with a
hard thump. His palms skidded across the muddy surface, catching
sharp twigs and small rocks. His hands stung and his chest hurt, but
Kelson jumped to his feet, looking for Emery.

His friend was nowhere in sight.
“Emery!”
The only sounds Kelson could hear were the rumbling thunder

and the rain falling in sheets. He frantically searched where he’d last
seen his friend, about ten feet back. The rain was coming down too
heavily, washing out any tracks that might have been left behind.

“Emery!”
Kelson ran his hands through his wet hair as his mind raced to

figure out where Emery could have gone. They hadn’t been that far
from each other so Emery shouldn’t have gotten turned around. Using
the back of his hand, Kelson cleared the rain from his eyes, feeling his
heart beat hard in his chest. What if Emery had fallen into some kind
of pit? He’d never heard of one being discovered in the forest lining
Brac Village, but it was possible. What other explanation could there
be?

“Emery!”
The muffled voices returned once again. Kelson turned in the

direction of the voices, hoping his friend was with the strangers, but
he didn’t see anyone. The only thing he could scent was wet earth.
That wasn’t going to help him.

Lynn Hagen

Stepping off the path, Kelson tried to listen for the voices, tried to

track where they were coming from. He was shaking, from the cold
rain perhaps, but also from the fear that was creeping up his spine,
wrapping around his chest, and settling in his heart.

Twigs snapped.
Kelson spun just as he felt a sharp pain pierce his side. He went

down and the forest faded away.

* * * *

Kelson Carswell yelped as the fire hose was turned on him. He

turned his head away from the frigid spray, huddling in the back
corner of his cage. The wound on his stomach throbbed, making the
abuse that much harder to suffer through. The cold water chilled him
to the bone and stung like a thousand hornets attacking at once.

“There’s your bath, you filthy dog.” The man’s laugh was sadistic

as he turned the hose off and dropped it to the floor. With a loud belch
that was followed by a curled lip, he sauntered toward the exit.

When the lights dimmed and a heavy bolt slid into place, locking

them in this god-awful place, Kelson settled on the cold and wet floor
of his enclosure. The pungent odor of feces and urine clung to the air,
making his stomach churn, but there was no escaping the foul stench.

“How long have you been here?” the man in the next cage asked.
Kelson wasn’t sure. He remembered being caught in the rainstorm

with his coworker and friend, Emery. He even remembered losing the
guy before a sharp pain had taken him down. When he’d come to,
he’d been locked in a cage and the cruelty had begun. Kelson had
been in his coyote form for…he had no idea how long he’d been here.
His days and nights had blended to form one long, torturous stay at
Hotel Hell.

“They caught me running through the city streets,” the man

continued, resting his head on the bars like they were in real jail cells
instead of metal crates that were no bigger than closets. “I’m not sure

Rakeym 11

how they knew I was a shifter, but they tranquilized me and shoved
me in a carrier. You?”

Kelson shivered, soaked to the bone. There was no heat in this

large, empty warehouse. The only light was from a soot-smeared
window high above them. It allowed light in, but Kelson couldn’t
even see the night sky. He ached to be free, to go back to his mundane
life as a cashier at Brac Village Mart.

One decision had changed his life. If he hadn’t gone hiking with

Emery…Kelson shut the lid on that thought. He didn’t know what had
happened to his friend. When he had awakened here, Emery had been
nowhere in sight. Kelson didn’t want to contemplate the possibilities
of his friend’s fate.

“Man, what I wouldn’t give for a fat, greasy cheeseburger right

now.” His neighbor licked his lips before smacking them. The image
only made Kelson’s stomach growl. They were hardly fed, given
maybe a bowl of scraps a day. Kelson could feel how much weight
he’d lost, and it wasn’t like he could spare any in the first place.

“The first thing I’m going to do when I get out of here is eat like a

king.” The guy’s face grew hungry. “What do you think, coco?”

Kelson hated the nickname his neighbor had given him, but since

Kelson refused to shift, he couldn’t protest.

“Yeah, I know. It sounds wonderful, doesn’t it?”
Kelson inwardly smiled. His neighbor had held a conversation for

both of them since being brought here a few days ago. He chatted on
and on about nothing, filling the silence, likely to keep the fear at bay.

Brushing the matted brown hair from his face, the guy grinned at

Kelson. “My mom makes this killer pot roast. You’ll have to come by
sometime and try it. She makes it the first Sunday of every month.”

The air seemed to turn colder. Kelson’s shaking became brutal,

his muscles tight and sore. He was starving, but would give anything
for a heated blanket instead. The water from the hose had pooled in
the center of the cage. Kelson would have parched his dry throat, but

Lynn Hagen

the floor held a thick layer of grime he suspected had been there for a
very long time. They hadn’t cleaned his cage since he’d arrived.

Kelson’s head popped up when he heard the sound of metal

protesting. His neighbor shifted into his fox form before the door
creaked open. Kelson watched as one of the men returned, a large
mixing bowl full of swill in his hand. Passing each cage, he dumped
some of the contents through the top, the gooey mess dripping to the
floor with a dull splat.

“Don’t waste this.” A booted foot kicked at Kelson’s cage,

making him yelp. The sadistic man kicked his cage repeatedly before
he laughed and walked away. Kelson’s stomach cramped from
hunger. He couldn’t ignore the disgusting stuff.

At least this time the human hadn’t shoved his cattle prod against

the metal bars, shocking Kelson. Moving from the corner, Kelson
sniffed at the pile of brown-and-orange goop. The texture reminded
him of cow dung.

Why did I have to think that?
Kelson was lowering his head and hating himself for even

considering what he was about to do, when he noticed something
shiny on the floor. His eyes swung over to the entrance, wondering if
their captors were gone for the night. The idea of being caught trying
to escape frightened him beyond words.

There were five cages in all, each one occupied. The two grey

wolves had been here before Kelson’s imprisonment and they never
whimpered, never made a sound. They lay there twenty-four-seven in
silence. A puma shifter lay in the filthy cage next to Kelson. He
yowled all the time, baring his sharp teeth whenever the guards were
near.

The cat turned his head, gazing at Kelson. The puma had seen the

knife, too. With a nod, he urged Kelson to grab the pocketknife and
gain his freedom. But terror froze Kelson in place. The electric prods,
fire hoses, and sharp pokers the guards had tortured him with for
entertainment had brought Kelson to the point of near insanity.

Rakeym 13

Each of the prisoners had also been carted off once or twice to a

dank room and given an IV. The only thing the men had done there
was take Kelson’s blood, but still he had become dizzy, nauseous
before returning to his cage. The container had filled and Kelson
knew they’d taken too much. He just didn’t know why they were
taking his blood.

Already relentless in their cruelty, Kelson didn’t want to think

about what they would do if they caught him out of his cage. But he
couldn’t just sit there. Even if he had already given up all hope, there
were others—like his chatty neighbor—who didn’t deserve to be here.
None of them did.

His heart kicked against his ribs, threatening to beat right out of

his chest as Kelson let the shift take over. The sensation felt foreign to
him. His human limbs were awkward at first, but then Kelson got to
work, guiding the knife through the open bars. He used his fingertips,
maneuvering the knife carefully closer before curling his fingers
around the cool steel. Now his only problem was figuring out how to
pick a lock. He hoped he got this right and didn’t break the dang blade
off inside the tumbler.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Chatty Charlie asked. Kelson

smiled to himself at the nickname he’d given the man.

“Not a clue.” His voice sounded raspy and rough from being

unused for so long.

“I’m Duncan. What’s your name?” The man scooted closer to the

side of his cage, his blue eyes focused on Kelson’s hand.

“My name is Kelson.” He grunted when he nearly dropped the

knife. “Now let me concentrate so I can get us out of here.”

“Not another word. I swear. You won’t hear a peep out of me.”

Excited energy filled the room, Duncan nearly vibrating.

Kelson threw all of his concentration into what he was doing,

blocking everything else out.

It took nearly two hours and a lot of curse words before he heard

the lock snick open. Kelson almost whooped for joy, but refrained

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from making any loud noises. There could be a guard in a nearby
room.

“Hey, don’t leave me here.” Chatty Charlie rattled his bars. “Pick

my lock, too!”

Kelson shivered once he was out of his cage. He was naked and

stepping onto a cold concrete floor that was still wet from his hose
down. His fingers had grown numb, barely able to hold onto the knife.
But he didn’t intend to give up.

He had always helped those in need. Kelson enjoyed volunteering

and getting into community projects. But this was more than just
lending a hand. Helping the others escape could mean the difference
between life and death.

As he stepped toward Duncan’s cage, he heard the sliding of

heavy metal. Instinctively, Kelson shifted into his coyote form, the
knife hitting the ground, echoing loudly in the barren room.

“No!” Duncan cried before he changed back into his fox. Kelson

froze when the guard who had brought them their swill swung the
door open. He stopped in his tracks as he glared at Kelson.

“How the hell did you get free?” Lifting the cattle prod from his

utility belt, the man snapped it open. “Get back in your cage.”

Kelson nearly passed out when he heard the snap and sizzle of the

electrical currents. His body had instantly recognized the sound. He
felt like Pavlov’s dog, reacting to the buzzing noise instead of a bell.

But obeying meant being kept prisoner and Kelson wasn’t

spending another night here if he could help it.

“I’m going to make you pay for this.” The guard advanced. When

the man reached for him, Kelson scurried to his right, taking off
toward the door that had been left open. He had no clue where he was
going, but all he needed was an exit out of this building.

Guilt ate at him that he had to leave the others behind, but now

that he had a chance to gain his freedom, Kelson could go for help.
Alpha Maverick Brac wouldn’t stand for something like this. He had
No Hunting signs posted all over the woods bordering Brac Village.

Rakeym 15

Kelson hoped the timber wolf alpha shut this place down and ate
every last person who had had a hand in Kelson’s torture.

The corridors confused him. He ran into a dead end twice. Luckily

he was faster than the out-of-shape guard. The guy couldn’t keep up.

“I’m going to find you!” The ominous voice echoed through the

halls.

Kelson spotted a glowing exit sign and hauled ass toward it. He

leapt up onto his back legs, using his front paws to shove at the push
bar. An alarm sounded, but that didn’t stop him from racing away.

The fat bastard was still chasing him and Kelson wasn’t sure he

could get away. He was too weak and wounded to keep going. The
long period of starvation and abuse had taken its toll. His mind was
willing, but his body just couldn’t do it.

He stumbled, hitting the ground hard. Kelson didn’t have the

strength to get back up. He just couldn’t muster the will. He slowly
closed his eyes and prayed that whatever was about to happen ended
his life swiftly.

Lynn Hagen

Chapter Two

Rakeym brushed wayward strands of hair from his face, tucking

them behind his ear. He was beginning to wish he’d tied it back
before setting off to see Ahm. But as irritated as he was with his hair,
Rakeym was glad he’d chosen to take a walk through the woods to
clear his mind. The quiet tranquility was the solace he’d been looking
for.

Out of nowhere, Rakeym spotted a tan-and-white coyote running

through the woods. He paused, his eyes tracking the creature when he
spotted another giving chase. Rakeym was far enough away that he
wouldn’t be seen. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but it wasn’t his
business.

Clasping his hands behind his back, Rakeym began to move

again, away from the two, when he heard a high-pitched yelp. He
paused once more. Why was he giving the two any thought? Shadow
elves left the outside world to its own devices. They didn’t interfere
and they didn’t bring anyone who was not of their race into the folds
of their lives.

But the distressed cry of the coyote…bothered him. Turning,

Rakeym muttered when the breeze picked up and tossed the long
black strands into his face once more. If the length of one’s hair
wasn’t such a prestigious thing among his people, Rakeym would cut
the shit off. Some days it was more trouble than it was worth.

The high-pitched cry echoed through the forest again, sending a

few birds skyward to escape the tortured sound. The flesh along
Rakeym’s arm prickled and something deep inside whispered to him,
urging him to go help the suffering coyote.

Rakeym 17

It was the last thing Rakeym wanted to do, but he couldn’t ignore

his inner voice. It had saved him on more than one occasion and he
had learned to trust it. Moving with the quietness and stealth his
people were known for, Rakeym followed not only the sound of
malicious laughter and cruel shouting, but the metallic scent that
began to slowly filter through the forest. He wasn’t sure why or where
the arc of fury had come from, but it was a fine tremor over his skin
when he saw what the human was doing. Rakeym’s fingers curled in,
the sharp nails biting into his palms.

The coyote was down, unmoving, his once-light coat of fur now

covered in blood. The stranger was slicing at the creature, shouting at
the “dumb mutt” for making the guy chase him. The stranger’s head
snapped sideways when Rakeym moved into view. The man’s eyes
bulged, his lips parting as he straightened. The inner thigh of the
man’s pants turned a darker shade, the scent of urine filling the air.

Rakeym lifted his arm, uncurling his fingers, showing the man his

bloody palm. “Ona ta a’amin.”

The portly man’s thick, unkempt brows pulled together as his

head moved from side to side. “What was that?”

“Give. It. To. Me.”
The knife dropped to the forest floor. Skin once flushed from

exertion now paled as the stranger glanced over his shoulder and then
looked back at Rakeym. “He’s rabid. I was just putting him down.”

The man was lying.
Rakeym moved closer, the stranger taking a step back, and then

another.

“What the fuck are you?” the portly man asked.
Rakeym gave a deep, humorless laugh. “My mother told me that I

was a demon spawn conceived after a bottle of cheap whiskey on a
hot summer night.”

The man choked on a cough as Rakeym squatted, checking to see

if the coyote was still alive. Fury boiled in his gut when he got a
closer look at what had been done to the creature. There was so much

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blood coating the fur that he couldn’t tell how many wounds the
coyote had sustained. This wasn’t putting a rabid dog down. The
amount of rage that had gone into this told Rakeym that the guy hated
this coyote with a passion.

And then Rakeym’s world shifted.
He couldn’t see beyond the dark-red fury that had him standing to

his full height, towering over the cringing man as he snarled, “You
tried to kill my A’maelamin?”

Spinning on his heel, the stranger fell to the ground, shouted, and

then pushed to his feet, racing away. He kept looking over his
shoulder, though.

Rakeym went after him, grabbing the man around his throat from

behind and yanking him to a dead stop. “You will pay for this,
saurar.”

Birds shot from their branches, the wind blew heavily through the

leaves, and then the forest grew quiet as Rakeym released the
stranger, the foul man’s body falling lifelessly to the ground. Rakeym
returned to the prone coyote, lifting the creature into his arms before
shimmering back to his home in the marshlands.

Rakeym laid the coyote out on his oversized bed and then called

for his most trusted Sentinel, Nazul. The room felt a little chilled, so
Rakeym lit the stone fireplace, placing his hand on the mantel as he
wondered whether he had done the right thing by bringing the coyote
here. He turned when Nauzl walked through the door. His footsteps
had been quiet on the plush carpet.

“Fetch me the Mage, but swear her to secrecy.”
Nazul gave a firm nod before leaving Rakeym’s bedroom.

Rakeym knew that the high-ranking Sentinel wouldn’t betray him and
tell the tribe that their leader had brought a shifter amongst them.
Ahm’s mating was still fresh in their minds, still gossiped about with
anger and hatred. Ahm’s fall from grace after mating outside their
race, to another male no less, had been swift—former ruler or not.

Rakeym 19

Rakeym closed the bedroom door before anyone could come by

and discover the shifter in his home. Unlike Ahm, Rakeym did not
have an open-door policy. He believed in his privacy, his solitude.
But people visited unannounced, much to Rakeym’s dismay. He
understood his position and what it entailed, but damn if he didn’t
miss the days when his only responsibility was being the commander
of the Sentinels.

Rakeym preferred battle to politics.
He loved his people, but most of them were idiots. They turned

their noses up at homosexuality, but practiced inbreeding. It made no
sense to him whatsoever. Rakeym wasn’t a saint. When it came to
outsiders, his views were just as jaded. But his reasons were far
different than those of the rest of his race.

He took a seat, resting his elbows on his knees, his chin on his

clasped hands as he waited for the Mage to arrive and heal Rakeym’s
A’maelamin—his mate.

* * * *

“Fucking idiot.” In the woods bordering the sanctuary, Marino

Malone slid his hands into his front pockets as he gazed down at the
dead guard. “It’s hard to find good help.”

Myne and Yante—two Shadow elf bookies—stood next to him,

apparently clueless about what to say.

“I could have sworn I told both of you to keep any shifters from

escaping.” Marino could feel the murderous anger rising up inside of
him. If the two hadn’t proven to be so valuable, Marino would have
killed them both. He couldn’t allow anyone to find out about his lab.
It had taken him damn near a year to scout a location as perfect as this
one, and he wasn’t going to let a loose coyote spoil everything he’d
worked so hard to build.

Money was pouring in from his Liquid Wrath deals, but Marino

wanted more. This little operation was the most important thing he’d

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invested in and he needed to keep a tight lid on things. “Find that
coyote and kill him. If he’s told anyone, kill them as well.”

Yante leaned his blue head back and inhaled deeply. “A Shadow

elf was here.”

Marino caught the curious look Myne gave the man before he

scented the area as well. “Sentinel.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass if it was Mother Teresa traipsing through

these woods. If she helped rescue the mangy dog, then off with her
head.” Marino inwardly chuckled at his own brand of humor.

The two shimmered away as Marino turned and walked back

down the path. He’d paid a fortune for the spell he was currently
brewing and there was no way in hell anyone was going to interfere.
The recipe called for a cauldron’s worth of shifter blood, and that’s
exactly what Marino was going to drain from those caged creatures.
But he needed more than what he had right now.

He’d tried to kidnap Parker and make the young Mage read the

spell. But the man had proven worthless. Marino had found someone
else and now he had the translation he needed to complete his work.
Now he had to replace the supply of shifter blood that had been
wasted during the failed attempt to have Parker cast the spell.

Once inside the warmth of the building, Marino snapped his

fingers. Kell immediately came to him. “Find me some more shifters.
If they aren’t rogues this time, so be it,” Marino said.

It still gave Marino the creeps how much Kell looked like

Kenyon. It was too bad Maverick Brac had killed the head Vampire
Hunter. But no matter. Marino had Kell and he planned to use the
man to replace Kenyon. The benefit of having his own chameleon-
wolf shifter on the inside was that now Marino could control the
Hunters.

Who said being evil never paid?

* * * *

Rakeym 21

“I’m getting too old for this, Nazul.” That, of course, would be

something Rakeym’s tribe would love to hear. His tribe hated having
Rakeym in charge. They might not approve of Rakeym being their
leader, but they were too afraid of him to protest. Who wanted to go
up against a mutant who stood taller than anyone else in the tribe and
was the commander of the feared Shadow elf Sentinels?

Nazul shook his head. “It’s just been a rough day. The coyote is

fighting the silver poisoning, but he’ll pull through.”

“That’s what I don’t get.” Rakeym had turned the problem over

and over in his mind since first discovering what the coyote was
fighting against. He sighed and rubbed a hand up and down the back
of his neck. His head ached like a bad tooth. God, he was tired. “How
would that human know to use a silver knife?”

The coyote whined from the bed, his muscles jerking as his head

tossed. Rakeym’s headache flared as a knot formed in his gut.

“He’ll pull through, Rakeym.”
After the last three long, tense hours of watching the shifter fight

for his life, all of this seemed strangely unreal. Rakeym resisted the
impulse to tell Nazul that the chances of the coyote surviving were
slim to none. The human had done one hell of a job slicing the
creature up. The Mage who lived among the Shadow elves had done
what she could, but the poison was substantial. If the coyote did
survive, he was going to carry around a heavy dose of external scars.
And depending on why that human had been hell-bent on killing the
coyote, likely a large dose of emotional scars as well.

“Just make sure you keep everyone away. Ever since Nara’s

death, Blythe has been nothing but trouble. If Ahm’s uncle finds out
that a shifter is here—” Rakeym turned, grabbing a drink from the
table by the wall. His fingers curled around the cool glass. “Just keep
them away, Nazul.”

Nazul glanced toward the floor and Rakeym knew the man wasn’t

telling him something. Blythe was an Old Law thumper, constantly
quoting passages from the Scrolls of the Elders. He was a pain in the

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ass, but was very influential with not only his own tribe, but
Rakeym’s as well. “Spill it.”

“I know you are already dealing with a lot of things and I didn’t

want to bother you with this,” Nazul began. “Blythe is trying to
convince everyone that Ahm needs to pay for his betrayal and Nara’s
death. He wants Ahm brought here for justice.”

“Oh, jeez.” Rakeym set the glass down, wiping a hand over his

face. Was Blythe insane? Ahm was one of the Ultionem. The leaders
would not only protect Ahm, but the Lakelands would kill anyone
who came near the man and his daughter. And Ahm was Rakeym’s
oldest and dearest friend. Rakeym wasn’t going to allow any harm to
come to the man.

“I’ve ordered the Sentinels to keep a close eye on Blythe.” Nazul

picked up the glass Rakeym had been holding, downing the liquid.
“But the slick bastard keeps slipping in and out of different places.”

If it had been anyone other than Nazul who’d stolen Rakeym’s

glass of aged scotch, Rakeym would have tried to kill their ass. But
Nazul was not only a high-ranking Sentinel, but one of only two men
Rakeym trusted with his life. The guy was a good friend.

“How are you going to deal with this situation?” Nazul glanced

toward the bed where the coyote lay silently.

There was a knot forming in Rakeym’s chest as he gazed at the

sleeping shifter. He had never mentioned that the coyote was his
A’maelamin, but bringing the creature here had said it all.

“I haven’t a clue.” It had occurred to him that having the shifter

here was going to be a battle in and of itself, but dealing with the man
on a personal level wasn’t something Rakeym was looking forward
to.

Nazul gave him that look. The one that said he sympathized

because the man knew Rakeym’s past. He scowled at Nazul and then
curled his lip.

He didn’t want or need pity. His mother had been one of those

women who thought having a child was an inconvenience, a burden,

Rakeym 23

and had treated Rakeym as such. Never once as a child had his mother
hugged him when he was hurt or scared, tucked him into bed, or
baked a damn thing for him. He was lucky if she remembered to stock
the cupboard with food.

When he turned eighteen, the commander of the Sentinels had

pulled Rakeym from his home and his training had begun. Life at the
Temple hadn’t been any easier, but at least his mother wasn’t coming
in late at night, stumbling drunk, with another “uncle” on her arm.

Rakeym brushed those memories away before turning to say,

“He’ll stay in my home, away from the tribe.”

A black brow arched on Nazul’s forehead. “Prisoner?”
“Protected.” Rakeym’s headache, now a good deal worse, stepped

up a notch. “I’m assigning you to keep everyone away from my
doorstep.” Rakeym had personally trained Nazul over the past
century. The man may only be one hundred and twenty-five—young
for a Sentinel—but he was deadly, quiet, and highly intelligent. No
one could ask for a better guard.

“I’ll have Jhan take over my duties until further notice.” Nazul set

the glass down.

“No.” Rakeym raised a hand. “I want Jhan here with you. Have

Talon take over both your duties.”

“Harsh.” Nazul gave Rakeym a wicked smile. “But something he

deserves after his slacking.”

If Rakeym was going to hide the coyote for the time being, he

wanted the two men he trusted most watching over his home. Nazul
was right. Talon could use the punishment for leaving his post two
nights ago. Though two decades older than Nazul, Talon still acted
like one of the young.

Sentinels were born, not made. They were the elite race of the

Shadow elves. Had there been such thing as quitting, Rakeym would
have kicked Talon out of the Sentinels already. But the man was
immature, hotheaded, and still had much to learn. Although they were

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born with the ability to become great fighters, not all the Sentinels
were given common sense in the womb.

Once Nazul had left to carry out orders, Rakeym poured another

glass of scotch and moved over to the bed, staring down at the
sleeping coyote. He downed the amber liquid before saying, “I’m not
sure if I rescued you or just made your life a lot worse.”

* * * *

Kelson’s eyes fell on a girl with blue skin pigmentation. She stood

there, smiling at him as she bounced in place. She looked about
eighteen—maybe nineteen—wearing a top and skirt made of
deerskin, and had eyes the color of summer skies. Overall, the female
looked harmless enough.

“Hi, I’m Meda.”
The clock hanging on the far wall chimed three times as he

hesitantly said, “I’m Kelson.”

“I’m here to help you until you get better, Kelson,” Meda

announced cheerfully before resting a hand on the post of the bed. “Is
there anything you need?”

His bladder was full, straining, but there was no way in hell

Kelson was telling her that. He didn’t care if he had to fall out of bed
and pull his limp body to wherever the bathroom was. He’d do it. If
she had been a nurse, or other adult professional, then he might have
spoken up. But certainly not to some innocent, smiling young female.

Talk about total embarrassment.
Lying on his side and covered with a thick blanket, Kelson had

never been more relieved that his nakedness was hidden than he was
right now. Why couldn’t someone older and with more experience
help him? Kelson wasn’t sure where he was, but there had to be an
adult who was more skilled than this adolescent. “Nothing that I can
think of. Thank you, though.”

Rakeym 25

Bright-blue eyes turned upward in an impressive eye roll. “I told

my uncle Rakeym that you wouldn’t let me help you to the
bathroom.” Meda flounced toward the bed, eyeing him curiously.
“I’ve never met a shifter before. Do you bite?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve had my shots,” Kelson deadpanned. After what

he’d just been through, Kelson wasn’t going to allow his guard to
come down, even if Meda looked as harmless as a fly. He curled his
fingers tighter into the blanket, wondering if he was someplace safe or
if this was another version of hell. “Where am I?”

The smile slipped from Meda’s face and then reappeared again,

but her eyes were cautious. “Come on, I know you need to use the
bathroom. I promise not to peek.”

His bladder twinged at the reminder, ready to burst. Kelson knew

he had no choice but to let her help him or soil the bed. Either way,
the blanket was going to come off. “Do you have a towel I can wrap
around my waist?”

Meda rolled her eyes once more. “I have two baby brothers. Trust

me when I say that I know what the male anatomy looks like. They
are in the middle of being bathroom trained and they’ve streaked
through the house more times than I care to count.”

Kelson cocked his head as he raised an eyebrow. She was

speaking of toddlers. Kelson was a grown man and there was no way
he was—“Please.”

“Fine.” Meda left the room and came back with a green towel.

She handed the soft fabric to him and then turned, giving him her
back with a grunt.

Kelson froze in place as he stared at the tattoos that started at her

neck and ran all the way down until the design disappeared under her
deerskin skirt. The pattern was intricate, beautiful, and he had the
distinct feeling it meant something. By the time he had secured the
towel around his waist, Kelson was sweating from exertion.

“Can I turn around yet?” Meda asked, voice filled with

exasperation. Her hands were crossed over her chest, her foot tapping

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impatiently on the polished wood floor, making Kelson noticed that
she was barefoot.

“Yeah.” He threw back the covers and then froze. His pale chest

was riddled with slash marks that were raised, red, and still healing.
He looked like a freak science experiment. His thighs were no better.
One long mark ran from his upper, inner thigh all the way down to
behind his knee. Grabbing the edge of the blanket, Kelson flung it
back over his disfigured body, his hands trembling as he closed his
eyes tight, praying this was all a bad dream.

“It doesn’t look—”
“Don’t.” He didn’t want to hear anyone placating him. He knew

how horrendous he looked. “My face?” Kelson heard himself ask, this
time in a softer voice. He cracked his eyes open to see Meda looking
at him with cautious sympathy. Apparently not even his face had been
spared.

“Get out!” He pulled the white blanket over his head, refusing to

let her see him like this. And he didn’t want her to see the white-hot
tears that were now streaking down his face. He heard the door snick
close, his bladder forgotten.

Seconds later the door opened again. Kelson hurriedly wiped at

his eyes, ready to tell Meda that he wasn’t kidding, when the blanket
was ripped out of his hand. His fingers curled tightly as his pulse
raced madly. Kelson’s body trembled as he gasped for breath, staring
up at someone who looked wholly evil. He had heard of the
mysterious Shadow elves. But being this close was nightmarish. The
guy gazed at him with two different color irises, one emerald-green
and the other dark amber. His skin was the color of robin eggs, and
his ears came to a sharp point, the right one sporting two small hoop
earrings in the lobe. His features were strong, masculine, and
downright frightening. The instinct to run was strong, but Kelson was
too weak to even sit up.

The guy looked like a hoodlum and a warrior all rolled into one.
This must be Uncle Rakeym.

Lynn Hagen

Chapter Three

Kelson tossed and turned, the nightmare thrusting him back into

that cold, dank cage. The guard stood over him, laughing as he
shocked Kelson over and over again with that homemade prod. Only
now Kelson wasn’t in his coyote form, but his human one. He
crouched down, wrapping his arms around his legs. The air filled with
the stench of burnt skin, the shifters in the other cages laughing,
shouting for the guard to use the poker, to drive it deep into Kelson’s
flesh.

Kelson’s eyes flew open, a loud scream ripping from his throat as

he lay there in a cold sweat. His eyes adjusted to the room and he
remembered he was no longer locked in that god-awful cage. He
turned over but no matter how Kelson tried to lay, the wounds on his
body hurt. Funny how they hadn’t hurt when he had first woken up
two days ago, but now that he knew they were there, every single
gash, slice, and stab mark throbbed painfully.

“Are you okay?” Meda asked from a corner chair. Her slim legs

were tucked under her, a thin throw blanket covering her lap. Her
eyes were puffy, suggesting Kelson had woken her out of a deep
sleep.

Kelson yanked the covers up to his chin as he glared at the young

girl. “Jeez, Meda. Why don’t you go home? I can take care of myself.
You look like shit.”

She gave him a warm smile as she unfolded her legs, stood, and

then stretched. “I’m going to read you a story.” Meda grabbed a book
sitting on the dresser. “That should help you take your mind off
of…you know.”

Rakeym 29

“Who is he?” Kelson asked, thinking of the man who had taken

his very breath away—the man who had carried Kelson to the
bathroom.

Meda’s eyes dropped to the book as she smoothed her hand over

the cover. “You’ll have to be a little more specific, Kelson.”

She was playing coy with him. Meda knew exactly who Kelson

had been referring to. She had to. Right?

“The only other person I’ve seen since being here.” He slapped

his hands on the blanket as he scowled at her. After two days of Meda
refusing to leave his side, Kelson had begun to slowly show his face
again. It was hard having a conversation under the covers, and she
had joked and teased with him, helping Kelson to let his guard down
around her. “And why won’t you tell me where here is?”

Setting the book aside, Meda walked over to the bed and sat

down. Her fingers began to twist in her long black hair, her eyes
locked on the floor. “He’s my uncle, Rakeym.”

“Well, you tell Uncle Rakeym to get in here right now. I want

some answers.” Kelson clenched his jaw at the thought of being
cooped up in this room. Although it was lavishly decorated, it was
still a cage. He’d had enough of them to last a lifetime.

An overwhelming urge rippled through him to go home. What he

would do from there, he’d figure out later.

Meda’s mouth twitched as she released her hair. “Trust me when I

tell you that ordering him to do anything wouldn’t be good for your
health.”

Kelson opened his mouth to tell her that he knew Rakeym was his

mate, had smelled it when the man had taken him to the bathroom two
days ago, but something made him keep that knowledge to himself. “I
don’t care. Just tell him to get in here.”

If the man wanted to act like Kelson didn’t exist, then Kelson

could act like a jerk. Desperate times called for shouting.

“It’s your neck.” Meda stood, gazing down at him. “Don’t say I

didn’t warn you. He’s the leader of the Shadow elves and the former

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commander of the Sentinels. You can’t get any scarier than him.” And
then she smiled. “But he’s nice to me.”

With that, she bounced out of the room. Kelson really didn’t care

if Rakeym despised being ordered around. After leaving Kelson to a
teenager’s care, Rakeym could suck the big hairy one.

After half an hour had passed with no Rakeym, or Meda, Kelson’s

blood began to boil. Thinking about the nightmare only fueled that
anger, making it hotter by the second. After forty-five minutes of
waiting, Rakeym finally filled the doorway. He leaned his shoulder
into the frame, his mismatched eyes sweeping over Kelson.

All the bravado Kelson had felt slipped away as the menacing

aura filled the room. He had mentally gone over what he was going to
say, but now his mind was a total blank. The man had to be close to
seven feet tall. His body wasn’t overly muscular, but the hard swell of
toned flesh definitely stood out. Those eyes still bothered Kelson, as
did the man’s long fingernails that ended in sharp points. His lengthy,
silky black hair was braided today, sitting over his shoulder like a
silent snake that reached all the way to his waist.

“Why are you being so difficult with Meda?” The question was

posed in a low and calm tone, as if Rakeym was asking for a weather
report.

“Because,” Kelson began and his bravado returned, slightly.

“You’ve left me alone for two whole days.”

“Not alone,” Rakeym corrected.
“You call allowing a teenager to take care of a wounded, fully

grown man not being left alone?” The bitterness slowly rose through
his chest and into his throat like hot gas. Already mentally scarred,
disfigured, and clueless as to where he was, Rakeym’s cold distance
wasn’t helping Kelson any. Kelson’s coyote whimpered for his mate,
but he ignored it.

“Meda is quite capable.” Rakeym pushed away from the frame.

“Was there something you needed?”

Rakeym 31

Yeah, Kelson’s mind supplied, for this nightmare to end and to

find out that my stay in Hotel Hell never took place. “I sure do.” His
tone changed to a cheery pitch. “The door, so I can get the hell out of
this place.”

“That’s going to be a bit of a problem,” Rakeym answered.

“You’re not fit to take care of yourself on your own.”

“So you’re keeping me here against my will?”
Meda walked in with a tray piled high with food. The aroma filled

the air and Kelson’s stomach began to rumble.

“That pretty much sums it up,” Rakeym said before exiting the

room.

* * * *

Rakeym might think he could hold Kelson prisoner, but that didn’t

mean Kelson had to roll over and show his belly. He was going to get
out of here and he wasn’t going to look back. It hurt like hell that his
mate was giving him the cold shoulder, but Kelson knew he would
survive. He had no choice.

Making sure Meda was sound asleep, Kelson pushed the blanket

aside. Kelson growled as he stared at the green towel sitting on the
nightstand. Why wouldn’t they give him any clothes?

After wrapping the fabric around his waist, Kelson eased across

the floor, praying none of the boards squeaked as he reached the door.
Giving Meda a fleeting glance, he wrapped his fingers around the
nickel-plated handle and pulled down and then inward, stepping out
into the hallway. He didn’t bother closing the door all the way, afraid
of making too much noise.

Kelson stood there for a moment as a frown creased his forehead.

A long hallway, filled with dark shadows, extended on each side,
leaving him unsure which direction to go. He stared at a vase sitting
on a small wooden stand across from his door. Kelson waited, as if a

Lynn Hagen

bright neon arrow would suddenly appear and point him in the right
direction.

Deciding he would go left, Kelson kept his steps soft on the

wooden floorboards. His heart raced, beating so loudly in his ears he
worried it would give him away. The idea dawned on him that if
Rakeym was the leader, there just might be guards around the house,
or at the very least, walking the perimeter outside.

He had no clue but he wasn’t giving up. Staying here wasn’t an

option for him.

And going home is any better? a voice in his head asked. You’re a

damn cut-up monster. Do you think Mr. Walker is going to continue
to let you work as a cashier? You’ll send all the customers running
and screaming.

Kelson paused. His inner voice was cruel, but speaking the truth.

If he went back to Brac Village, there was not a chance in hell he
would be able to keep his job, and in turn, no one would hire him.
He’d be a homeless bum, panhandling for spare change just to get a
burger or some warm gloves.

But he couldn’t stay here. Not when he was being caged once

more. A shiver stole over his body as Kelson thought about those
cages. He had to get help for Chatty Charlie and the others. And he
had to find out what had happened to Emery. How could he have
forgotten about them? One more reason he had to get out of here. If
nothing else, Kelson had to speak with Maverick about that horror-
filled place. It could have been the thought of that warehouse, but to
Kelson, the air in the hallway felt heavier than in his bedroom. The
silence was thick as a blanket and deafening to his ears.

A door swung open and Kelson froze. Two men walked out. He

stiffened, terrified of the two blue giants, before recognizing one of
them as Rakeym. But knowing one of the guys was his mate didn’t
stop Kelson’s knees from knocking. He found himself wishing he had
stayed in his bedroom or had gone right instead of left. But it was too
late for any kind of wishing.

Rakeym 33

“What the hell?” the guy standing next to Rakeym shouted, his

eyes widening and then narrowing. The man was already scary
enough, blue and towering over Kelson. The relentless gleam in the
black depths of his eyes didn’t help Kelson’s inside unfreeze. The
stranger turned toward Rakeym, stabbing a long, thin finger toward
Kelson. “Can you explain why you have a naked shifter standing in
your hallway?”

“He has a towel on,” Rakeym pointed out dryly. His mate’s eyes

slid over to Kelson. The expression in them said for Kelson to remain
quiet.

Kelson had no problem doing that considering he was too freaked

out to talk.

“Rakeym,” the man said, his blue face suffusing with a light tinge

of red, making him look a bit purple as raw anger filled his eyes.

“I’m considering him as a pet,” Rakeym said.
Kelson took a shaky step back, his breath slamming out of his

chest. Rakeym could have reached out and punched him and it would
have hurt far less. Although the Shadow elf had been completely
ignoring Kelson since he’d woken up, the blunt statement made his
chest feel like a raw, gaping hole was opening up.

“You know how we feel about shifters after what Ahm did. Get

rid of him.” The man with Rakeym raked his eyes down Kelson and
Kelson should have combusted from the hate-filled look. “He’s a
freak. Look at all his scars. How could you keep such a pathetic
creature in your home?”

“Watch your tongue,” Rakeym said, a tight growl rumbling in his

chest. Rakeym was intimidating enough, but the dark look that
crossed his face was both terrifying and ominous. “You may be one of
the council members, but do not forget who you are speaking to.”

The man’s eyes dulled. “Then collar him so everyone knows he is

your pet.”

One to the gut, and now a punch to the head. Kelson spun to

leave, but fingers curled around his upper arm, holding him in place.

Lynn Hagen

“Let me go!” Kelson kicked at Rakeym, his foot landing on the

man’s shin. The move only made Kelson’s toes throb in pain, but his
humiliation ran deep and he just didn’t care.

“Feisty,” the stranger said with a gleam in his eyes that revealed

just how much he was enjoying this. The stranger reminded Kelson of
the guard who had tortured him. They had that same dispassionate
gaze in their eyes.

“Leave,” Rakeym ordered the man as his grip became bruising.

Kelson stilled, narrowing his eyes at the stranger, and then Rakeym.
Both ignored him.

“Very well.” The man turned on his heel and hurried away.
“Bastard is probably going to announce this to everyone in the

tribe,” Rakeym muttered before turning his eyes on Kelson.

“Serves you right,” Kelson argued, twisting his arm and hoping

like hell that Rakeym’s sharp fingernails didn’t pierce his flesh. “You
should have taken me home when I asked you to.”

“Instead”—Rakeym dragged Kelson back down the hallway—

“you’ve just alerted every single member of my tribe to your
presence. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were rallying right now,
ready to kill us both.”

Kelson didn’t know a thing about the Shadow elves aside from the

fact that they existed, but even to him what Rakeym was saying
seemed pretty harsh. “They’d kill us just because you had a shifter in
your house?”

Instead of taking Kelson back to the bedroom he’d been held in

for days, Rakeym hauled him into an office. The Shadow elf kept
going until they reached a large varnished oak desk. Kelson yanked
harder on his arm when he saw Rakeym pull a black studded collar
from his desk drawer.

“No!” Kelson yanked and yanked, biting and kicking to get away.

He wasn’t at full strength, far from it. His attempts at gaining his
freedom were wearing him down quickly, making him pant as his
eyes zeroed in on the thick piece of leather.

Rakeym 35

With a hard jerk, Rakeym brought him closer. “If you don’t wear

this, we are both dead.”

“Then kill me now,” Kelson shouted, the pitch of his voice rising.

He yanked again, biting hard into Rakeym’s forearm before he was
pinned to the desk. Kelson hated himself for letting the tears fall from
his eyes. He hated Rakeym for what he was trying to do, going to do.

It didn’t matter to him that the two different irises filled with

remorse and regret.

In that moment, Kelson hated everyone and everything as Rakeym

snapped the collar into place, securing it with a tiny padlock.

* * * *

After taking Kelson back to his bedroom, Rakeym returned to his

office. He swiped his hand over the desk, sending the contents flying
to the floor, crashing on the carpet. He smashed the Tiffany lamp,
overturned the bookshelf, and then punched his hand through the
arch-shaped window.

Nazul rushed into the office and then came to a stop, gazing at

Rakeym like he wasn’t sure what he should do. “Rakeym?”

“Get the fuck out!” Rakeym picked up a weighted knickknack

from the shelf and hurled it at Nazul. The Sentinel ducked and then
nodded, leaving Rakeym to his rampage.

Rakeym couldn’t get that look out of his head. Kelson had been so

afraid, so terrified, yet Rakeym had forced that collar on him just so
that pompous bastard, Lence, wouldn’t come back with an angry mob.

“You’re a coward and worthless piece of shit,” he snapped at

himself as he dropped onto the couch cushions. Rakeym cradled his
head in his hands, uncaring that one of them dripped blood. It would
be so easy to remove the collar and tell his entire tribe to kiss his ass.
But it wasn’t that simple. For one, as well-trained as Rakeym was, he
couldn’t fight an entire village. They may fear him, but that wouldn’t

Lynn Hagen

stop some from coming at night and setting his home ablaze while he,
Kelson, and Meda were still in it.

What they didn’t know was that Rakeym didn’t want his people to

fear him. Respect was what he sought, but who would respect a
mutant? His own mother had scoffed at Ahm handing Rakeym the
tribe. She told him he would fail miserably, that he would destroy
their way of life.

And two, Rakeym loved the marshland more than anything. He

couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. He wished he could allow
Kelson to roam freely, to get to know Rakeym’s people and see just
how enchanting this place truly was. Not all the Shadow elves were
ruthless when it came to outsiders. Most were, but a handful thought
the old ways were outdated. Unfortunately, the majority ruled in this
society, and that majority said mating outside their race was a death
sentence.

Feeling fucked up about what to do, Rakeym grabbed a bottle of

scotch from a shelf that had escaped his wrath and took a long drink.
Those copper-colored eyes filled with stark terror once again flashed
across his mind. Rakeym clenched his jaw, pushing from the couch
and retrieving the key from one of the desk drawers. He wasn’t sure
what he was going to do about Lence, but he wasn’t going to bend to
the man’s will at his mate’s expense.

Asshole, you did that already when you forced that collar on

Kelson.

Setting the bottle down, Rakeym returned to Kelson’s bedroom.

Meda sat huddled in the chair, her eyes wide as she stared at him.
Rakeym nodded toward the door, telling her to go.

She stood and hurried out as Rakeym moved over toward the bed

to see Kelson wide awake. His eyes were bloodshot but still full of so
much anger. His brunet hair was tousled and a large part was hanging
in the shifter’s eyes, making him look twice as foreboding. Rakeym
showed the man the key before reaching for the lock.

“Don’t.” Kelson jerked away. “I don’t want you touching me.”

Rakeym 37

Rakeym studied Kelson’s scarred face. The knife used to butcher

him had sliced across one pale cheek. It wasn’t a large cut, but it was
very noticeable. Another mark ran from the corner of his right eye to
under his jaw.

Not for the first time, or even the tenth, Rakeym wondered how

badly Kelson was suffering on the inside. Rakeym’s thoughts
suddenly spun back to a time when he was in training, when the boys
training with him had beaten the crap out of Rakeym for being
different, for having different color eyes and long, sharp, black nails.
For having a whore for a mother and for taking to training like a fish
to water when most of them struggled just to get the moves right.

You would know what Kelson was going through if you hadn’t

been trying to keep him at arm’s length, refusing to get close. Rakeym
had struggled—and still did—with his emotions since Kelson’s
arrival. How could a man who knew nothing of love, whose heart was
encased in ice, show tenderness toward another? Rakeym had formed
half-ass bonds with a few people—like Nazul, Jhan, and Meda—but
not even those three knew a lot about him. Rakeym kept to himself
most of the time, speaking very little, but observing everything.

Ahm is the one person who knows you better than anyone. And the

man lived in Brac Village, a place far from here. Rakeym didn’t visit
his friend often. Ahm had his own life now.

Rakeym lifted his hand, presenting Kelson with the key.
When the man refused to take it, Rakeym dropped it onto the

mattress next to the shifter. Kelson’s glare said that Rakeym was the
big bad wolf who was disguising himself to Little Red Riding Hood
and that once he grabbed the key, Rakeym would attack.

“Take it off.” Rakeym’s tone was a bit harsh, but the severity was

from the disgust he felt with himself. It had nothing to do with
Kelson.

Sitting up, Kelson snatched the key from the bed. He fumbled

with the thick leather until he had the key inserted into the padlock.
The collar fell away and then Kelson hurled it across the room. The

Lynn Hagen

collar smacked against the wall before sliding behind the dresser.
Kelson held the key for Rakeym to see before dropping it to the floor.

A statement, Kelson taking a stand against the injustice of what

Rakeym had done, and it showed a dark undertone, a feeling of
triumph that was mingled with pain. Kelson’s eyes weren’t filled with
glee that he’d successfully removed the collar. His eyes spoke of the
pain he was suffering, the loneliness he felt, and Rakeym knew those
emotions all too well.

Kelson didn’t ask to be taken home like Rakeym assumed he

would. The man stood by the bed with his back rigid, his head held
high, but his eyes…God, those eyes. They spoke to Rakeym in ways
that made him uncomfortable, that reminded him too much of the
turmoil he himself had lived with for centuries.

“What are you going to tell your buddy?” The question dripped

with acid.

Before Rakeym could open his mouth to answer, the floorboards

creaked just outside the bedroom door.

Rakeym 39

Chapter Four

“If that’s not your cleaning lady, then—”
Rakeym held up a hand, silencing Kelson before moving

soundlessly toward the door. Rakeym looked like he was ready to
battle the dark dragon on the other side. Kelson should have been
downright terrified when Rakeym pulled a long, pearl-handled blade
from a sheath on his side.

How did I not notice that deadly-looking weapon?
Though the knife was frightening in itself, what struck a chill as

deep as February down Kelson’s back was the visible change that had
swept over Rakeym’s features. An aura of danger encompassed the
Shadow elf like an old friend, clinging to him as Rakeym reached the
door. Kelson’s head tilted slightly, watching the change take over his
mate, a deeper part of him amazed at the lethality, the beauty in what
Rakeym was. Quicker than Kelson was able to register, Rakeym had
the door open and a man pinned to the wall, the blade pressing into
his throat.

“Fuck, Nazul!” Rakeym bared his teeth before releasing the man.

“Are you trying to die?”

“I hadn’t penciled that into my plans.” Nazul rubbed his throat

and Kelson noticed the guy’s fingernails were pale with a tint of blue,
not the same as Rakeym’s deadly ones. Also, his eyes were the same
color as Lence's, a dark blue. More and more it seemed that Rakeym
was an anomaly. Though Nazul did have the same pointy ears as
Rakeym, the same type of earrings in his right ear, and long hair—
even if his only reached to the middle of his back.

Lynn Hagen

“Want to explain to me why you were creeping around the

house?” Rakeym sheathed his knife as Kelson went for the blanket on
the bed. He covered his disfigurement before Nazul could openly
stare at him.

“I was just doing my interior sweep.” Nazul’s dark-blue eyes

flickered over to Kelson before he glanced back at Rakeym. The man
spoke casually to Rakeym, but Kelson felt the man watching him
carefully, closely. The sensation made him shiver with unease.

“Wear a bell around your neck,” Rakeym snapped, though his

words lacked heat.

Nazul’s moves were graceful as he turned toward Kelson, offering

his hand. “I am Nazul, head Sentinel under Rakeym, and so sorry you
are mated to this barbarian.”

A smile instantly surfaced on Kelson’s face as he shook the guy’s

hand. Rakeym grunted and rolled his eyes. It was the first time Kelson
had had a glimpse into his mate’s true personality. Rakeym’s guard
seemed to lower around Nazul.

“I’m Kelson.”
Releasing Kelson’s hand, Nazul gave Rakeym his attention once

again. “Do something about your hand. It’s still bleeding. Maybe
you’ll think twice before punching a window out next time.”

Kelson’s eyes fell on the blue hand that was covered in dried and

fresh blood. Without thought, he went to the bathroom and searched
the cabinets until he found some alcohol and gauze. Grabbing a towel
and wetting it as an afterthought, Kelson finally returned to the other
men. “Have a seat.”

Nazul grinned as Rakeym sat in the chair Meda had occupied

earlier. Kelson’s eyebrows shot up in surprise when his mate didn’t
argue about being told what to do. The man had too much pride for
his own good. That might come in handy when filling his role as a
leader, but in the private confines of this bedroom, the guy needed to
give it a rest.

Rakeym 41

Dropping to his knees, Kelson took the wet cloth and began to

clean the wounds. There was more than one, and a few looked as if
they needed stitches. He did the best he could—considering he wasn’t
trained for this—and then poured the alcohol over the gaping cuts.

“Son of a bitch!” Rakeym shouted as he jerked forward, glaring

down at his hand, still dripping with the clear liquid. “You did that on
purpose!”

Yeah, Kelson had. “I’m just cleaning the mess you made of

yourself. Next time you want to put your hand through something,
make it a wall.” He knew the alcohol would burn like the dickens and
had used it on purpose, but Kelson was careful with the cuts. His left
hand cradled Rakeym’s, the black nails resting gently against
Kelson’s palm.

As angry as he was at Rakeym, a small thrill shot through him that

he was finally able to touch the man. His fingers moved over the
wounds with the lightest of touches, cleaning each one individually,
prolonging what he was doing so he wouldn’t be left out in the cold
again when his mate pulled away.

The blanket slipped and Kelson loathed letting the man’s hand go.

He pulled the blanket back around his shoulders, tying it into place
before continuing his work.

“I’m going to finish my rounds,” Nazul said. “Try not to beat up

another window tonight. Jhan is in your office repairing the damage.”

Rakeym raised his unscathed hand and flipped Nazul off. It didn’t

seem to faze the Sentinel as he took his leave. In fact, the guy
smirked. Kelson wasn’t sure of the men’s relationship, but it was
certainly deeper than just leader and head guard.

Once they were alone, Kelson felt heat radiating over him and

knew that Rakeym was watching him closely. He felt exposed and
began to quickly finish his task. Rakeym reached out with his other
hand and pulled at the tie holding the blanket securely over Kelson’s
shoulders. Kelson grabbed the fabric, stopping it from slipping free
and revealing his scars.

Lynn Hagen

“Why do you hide?” The query was posed the way an innocent

child would ask why the sky was blue. Kelson dropped his eyes,
shame filling him as he tied the material back into place. A flush was
rising in his cheeks and Kelson found something extremely disturbing
about the question. What should have been obvious seemed to be lost
on Rakeym.

“The same reason you do.” Kelson averted the question. He

glanced up and saw that the light from the lamp was caught in
Rakeym’s eyes. He almost dismissed what he thought was a
twinkle…but that wasn’t what it was. It was a shine that told of the
man’s pain, a glimpse into what made the guy tick.

The inner workings of a haunted man.
Kelson wasn’t sure where that thought had come from. It was true

that Rakeym was a mystery to him, but the thought stuck to him and
he couldn’t shake it. Kelson cleared his throat and began to clean up
the mess at his knees. He shoved the blood-stained gauze into the
folds of the wet towel and screwed the cap back onto the alcohol
bottle.

As Kelson knelt at Rakeym’s feet, feeling exposed and vulnerable,

he sensed Rakeym lean forward and gaze down at him. “I do not hide
my mutations. Every single day I walk outside my home, I show
everyone how Mother Nature screwed me. Can you live with your
battle wounds, embrace them?”

Battle wounds. Kelson rolled the description around in his mind,

tasted it on his tongue. The flavor was a hell of a lot more palatable
than the words hideous scars. He didn’t like Rakeym’s description,
but he liked his own description even less. “You’ve had your entire
life to cope with what you see as flaws.”

Rakeym grunted as he sat back, resting his index finger across his

mouth as his elbow relaxed on the arm of the chair. “Flaws. That’s
one hell of a way to describe them.”

“I said what you see as flaws.”

Rakeym 43

Rakeym’s eyes held a glint of interest. “And what do you see my

mutation as?”

Gathering the materials from his ministrations into his hands,

Kelson pushed to his feet. “You are scary as hell. There is no doubt
about that. I figure that’s because I don’t know you. But, honestly, I
don’t see any flaws, just a bitter man who hides behind his silence,
using it as a mask to keep the world from seeing the side of you that is
afraid of getting hurt.”

Rakeym lowered his hand, a snarl lifting the side of his full lips.

“There is no vulnerable side to me. This is who I am.”

“Then it’s a damn shame.” Kelson began to walk away. “Because

if that’s all you have to offer, then your world must be a dark and
hollow place to live.” He paused, staring directly at the guy. “I was
tranqued, shoved into a cage, abused, tortured, starved, and then
nearly sliced and diced to death. I even survived silver poisoning
according to Meda. I might hide my disfigurement, but I won’t let the
world beat me down. I was a caring and giving man before that
happened and I’m still one.” He lifted the bundle in his hands to prove
his point.

Rakeym stood and crossed the room, slipping a black nail under

Kelson’s chin. Kelson swore the man was going to kiss him, his head
moving closer and closer. But it didn’t happen. Instead, the man’s
whisper chilled Kelson. “At least you have a beating heart.”

* * * *

The next day, Kelson gazed around the kitchen, marveling at how

expensive it appeared. The island in the center was made of crystal
with a design of lilies sandblasted into the middle. There was a stone
worktop attached to one side of the island that didn’t have a single
scratch on it.

Lynn Hagen

Kelson reached down and pulled at the waistband of his pajama

pants. They were a bit big, but he felt ten times better wearing
something other than a towel wrapped around his waist.

He walked over to the large bay window and stared outside at the

greenery in the backyard. The sun was setting, making the foliage
simply beautiful. He felt a cautious delight about not being stuck in
his bedroom as he watched a blue jay rest on a branch close to the
window.

“A collar, huh?” Meda pursed her lips as she chopped up an onion

on the counter by the sink, her slim fingers moving with familiarity.
“That’s…different.”

A fiery heat shot up and spanned Kelson’s cheeks. He wasn’t sure

how Meda had found out about that, but he was not going to discuss
the collar with the young female. “What are you cooking?”

Her expression said that she knew he’d purposefully changed the

subject, but she let it drop. “Dinner. Can you preheat the oven for
me?”

They both stopped what they were doing when they heard raised

voices in the hallway. Kelson looked over at Meda to see that her eyes
had grown a little wider, a worried expression on her face. Kelson
wasn’t sure what was going on, but it didn’t sound like the people
talking were buddies.

Wiping her hands on a towel, Meda hurried over to a drawer and

slid it open. Kelson’s eyebrows shot up when he saw her pull the
black collar free, gripping it tightly in her slim fingers.

“What are you doing with that?” he bit out, speaking in a loud

whisper. He wasn’t sure why he was whispering, but something told
him that this was not a time to draw attention to himself. It was more
like an instinct and Kelson followed that gut feeling.

Meda worried her lower lip, keeping the thick leather down by her

thigh as she approached him. “I know it was dead wrong the way my
uncle put this on you last night. But you have to understand that—”

Rakeym 45

“I’m not wearing that thing!” Kelson protested. “I’m not a

freaking pet and no one is going to treat me like one.”

“He is only trying to protect you!” Her whispered shout was just

as angry as Kelson’s. “Do you think he wanted to call you his pet, to
demean you?”

“I don’t even know him,” Kelson pointed out. “How would I

know what his motives are?” Kelson’s eyes dropped to the collar once
again and a surge of willful pride raised its ugly head. The only thing
Kelson could think about was the way Rakeym had forced that collar
around his neck. “I won’t do it.”

Meda reached for Kelson’s hand, her eyes flickering toward the

door before looking at him. A shimmer of tears brimmed the edges,
making her blue irises sparkle. “Kelson, you have to understand what
is going on here. As an outsider, if anyone catches you in the
marshlands, even if you are in their leader’s home, that is a death
sentence to whoever is harboring you. It’s a death sentence to you as
well.”

Rakeym had told him the same thing. But Kelson’s mind still

rejected the idea of putting that thing around his neck. The entire time
he had had it on last night, Kelson could feel his neck growing thicker
as the material got smaller. He knew it had only been in his mind, but
the choking feeling was still with him.

Meda threw her arms around him, whispering into his ear, “For

me, please. I don’t want to see anything happen to you.”

If he put the thing on, he would be giving Meda and Rakeym what

they wanted. But what about Kelson? He would be placating the
narrow minds of the people protesting his presence in the first place.
The stranger from last night came to mind, as well as the look of joy
on his face when Rakeym had called Kelson a pet. Rebellious urges
swept over Kelson. If he gave in and wore the collar, what kind of a
statement would he be making?

The voices grew closer.
“Please, please, please,” Meda chanted in his ear.

Lynn Hagen

Kelson downright hated himself when he nodded, but the fear he

heard in Meda’s tone made him decide to play along for the time
being. She pulled back and lifted the collar toward his neck. Kelson
wanted to smack the thing out of her hand, to burn the piece of leather
and shout that everyone needed to get their heads out of their asses.
He couldn’t help but cringe when the leather touched his skin. It was
like a claw wrapping around his throat, squeezing tightly, choking
everything Kelson believed in, stood for, as she locked it into place.

Her palm pressed against his cheek as she gave him a wobbly

smile.

Rakeym and the man from last night entered the kitchen. Rakeym

wore a deep scowl. The stranger’s face was mottled in red. They were
glaring at one another as they moved into the kitchen. Meda dropped
her hand away from Kelson’s face and took a step back.

“I was just giving your pet a few pointers on how you like your

food prepared,” Meda offered.

The word pet rankled Kelson’s very foundation, but he kept his

lips sealed. She hadn’t spoken in a demeaning manner, at least. Points
for her.

Rakeym’s eyes widened to some extent and then he recovered.

His head dipped in a slight nod, his eyes shining with gratitude. Okay,
points for him as well. Kelson still wanted to kick the man in the balls
for forcing the collar on him, though.

The stranger turned toward Rakeym and said, “I’ll inform Blythe

that this is no trickery. Maybe he’ll calm down once I tell him that the
shifter is indeed your pet.”

Rakeym’s green and amber eyes flared with anger before he

walked out with the guy.

Kelson decided in that moment that he was going to do everything

he could to help Rakeym not only take this man down, but figure out
this problem his people had with outsiders.

Because if one more person called him a pet, Kelson wasn’t going

to be responsible for his actions.

Rakeym 47

* * * *

Rakeym shuffled through some papers on his desk, looking for the

notepad he knew was shoved somewhere in the pile. Jhan had done a
damn good job of cleaning up Rakeym’s mess, but nothing was where
it should be. The only person Rakeym could fault for that was
himself.

A soft knock sounded on his door, pulling his attention away from

his search. Rakeym hoped like hell that it wasn’t Lence again. His
anger flared when he thought about how Nazul had allowed the man
inside this evening. One heated debate per night with the pompous
blowhard was enough.

When Kelson entered with a plate of food in his hand, Rakeym’s

eyebrows lifted slightly. This was something he hadn’t expected. If
Kelson had entered with a gun in his hand, or baring his canines,
Rakeym would have been less suspicious. After the way he had acted
with Kelson, there should have been cow dung on the plate instead of
a delicious-looking roast with all the trimmings.

Setting the dish on the desk, Kelson tucked a few strands of his

dark-brown hair behind his ear, his eyes glued to the plate. “Meda
asked me to bring you this.” Indifference filled the man’s tone.
Rakeym glanced at the collar wrapped around his mate’s neck and felt
a pain in his chest.

Kelson cleared his throat and then turned to leave. Unsure of what

he was doing, Rakeym reached out and grabbed the man’s arm in a
gentle grip.

Their eyes locked.
All the words forming in Rakeym’s head sounded foolish. He

wanted to tell Kelson that he appreciated his mate putting the collar
on, but that might sound like a slap to the face. He briefly entertained
the thought of just saying thank you, but that didn’t seem adequate.

Lynn Hagen

He let his hand fall away, deciding on a nod to convey his thanks

for dinner and for…things. Just…things.

A twitch jerked at Kelson’s lips and Rakeym swore the man was

going to smile. He waited, wanting to see it, but the only thing Kelson
gave him were slightly upturned corners of his mouth before he left
the office. Rakeym sat back, rubbing his hand over his jaw. What had
been going through Kelson’s mind a moment ago?

“You are a true puzzle to me, Kelson,” Rakeym said to his empty

office before beginning to eat, his stomach growling fiercely with
each bite. Rakeym thought about what Kelson had told him last night,
about his torture and some of the things his capturer had done to him.
The more he thought about it, the more Rakeym’s appetite fled. He
shoved his plate aside, crossing his fingers together to form a fist that
he rested his forehead against. He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly as
he tried to figure this mess out.

“Are you done?”
Rakeym lowered his hands, nodding at Kelson, who had slipped

back into his office.

Kelson glanced at the pencil holder resting on the corner of the

desk and said, “You know, just because things have always been a
certain way doesn’t mean change is a bad thing.”

Rakeym glanced around the dark paneled room. His eyes finally

rested on the window that overlooked the deep foliage. It was dark
out, nothing really to see, but Rakeym found it easier to look at
anything other than the damn leather strip around Kelson’s neck.

“Why did you put the collar on?” Rakeym finally asked the

question that had been burning in the back of his mind since seeing
the material on Kelson’s neck again. Rakeym forced himself to turn
his head, to look at the man he had humiliated.

“Meda begged me,” Kelson admitted as his fingers smoothed

across the surface of Rakeym’s desk. Rakeym’s eyes dropped to what
Kelson was doing, watching the way the shifter’s fingers caressed the

Rakeym 49

wood. Kelson snatched his hand back, his jaw growing tight. “Don’t
get any ideas about me actually becoming your pet.”

The sides of Rakeym’s mouth quirked with a slight smile. He

began to wonder what made Kelson tick. Who was this man? Where
had he come from? What had he been like before being kidnapped
and tortured? Grabbing the plate from the desk, Kelson left the office
without another word.

Rakeym was ready to get back to work when Kelson reentered his

office seconds later, his face tight with anger and his copper eyes
ablaze. “You know, you are the leader. Why do you bend to that
asshole’s way?”

Rakeym picked a pencil up from his desk, gripping it tightly in his

hand. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Setting the plate back down, Kelson balled his hands into fists.

“People usually say that when they don’t understand either. The dude
is a douchebag and you let him come into your home and dictate how
he thinks things should be done.”

Rakeym’s guard shot up, Kelson’s tone of voice setting his teeth

on edge. Rakeym snapped the pencil in his grip. “What do you know
about being a leader? There’s more to it than making everyone bend
to my will. I can’t just kick ass and take numbers.” Even if that was
exactly what Rakeym wanted to do. A part of him hated that Kelson
was right, that Rakeym was kowtowing to Lence. “A true leader
listens to his people. A true leader—”

“Does what’s best for them,” Kelson snapped. “Is killing all

outsiders best for your people, Rakeym? Is the way things are run
around here the best for them? If a man can make you put a collar on
your own mate, I’d say you need to reexamine how things are done.”

“What do you want me to do?” Rakeym slammed his fist on the

desk, the stapler tipping over. “Fight them all? Leave? Ahm chose to
leave and left me in charge of this mess. I won’t run, Kelson. This is
my land, my people.”

Lynn Hagen

Kelson tapped at his collar. “It only takes the strength of one to

change many.”

“You can’t always fix what’s broken!” Rakeym wished to god he

could take those words back. He knew he was talking about more than
just his people. He turned his head away from Kelson, gritting his
teeth at allowing the slip.

Kelson’s shoulders pulled back until they were ramrod straight.

“No, you’re right. But if it’s worth the fight, I’ll buy stock in duct tape
and do my best to tape the pieces back together.”

Rakeym grasped for words as Kelson stormed from the office,

slamming the door behind him. He ground his teeth as a muscle
quivered in his jaw. What the hell did a coyote know about leading an
entire tribe of Shadow elves? It was easy to stand there and make
judgments when the guy knew nothing about what Rakeym was up
against.

Pushing away from his desk, Rakeym crossed the room and

pressed his hands against the cool glass of the window, staring out
into the darkness and wishing like hell he could find the answers in
the shadows just beyond his home.

Rakeym 51

Chapter Five

“Are you sure?” Rakeym crossed his arms over his chest, glancing

toward the hallway from where he was standing just inside the foyer.

“About eighty percent sure,” Nazul replied, his voice a hushed

whisper. “I mean, Myne and Yante are being discreet about it, but
they are searching. I’m just not sure for what. They won’t say. Lyshin
came to me, telling me that they were very persuasive. She allowed
them to come into her home, and when she went for something to
parch their dry throats, she heard them searching her place. A few
others have told me the same thing.”

Kelson. He would be the only reason those two troublemakers

were conducting a low-profile sweep of the marshlands. But Lence
already knew Kelson was here. It didn’t make any sense to undertake
a search. Unless, Lence hadn’t told them, and Myne and Yante were
searching for Kelson for other reasons. Rakeym turned when he heard
voices and saw Kelson and Meda coming from the living room. The
two had become fast friends and Rakeym was glad his mate had
someone to talk to. Meda couldn’t have been a better choice.

“Interrogating them won’t get us anywhere.” Rakeym turned back

to Nazul. The two bookies were not easy to crack. They were good-
looking men, charmers, but took their business seriously. Ahm had
never interfered because he felt that their business was legit. Rakeym
didn’t feel the same way, but amongst all the other problems he was
dealing with, bookies were on the bottom of his list.

“I have Talon keeping an eye on them,” Nazul informed him.

“He’s staying out of sight, but watching their every move.”

Lynn Hagen

Rakeym looked back over to where Kelson had disappeared

around the corner.

“Haven’t done the deed yet, have you?”
Rakeym’s head snapped back around, his anger rising. “What

business it that of yours?”

Nazul splayed his hand in front of him, his dark-blue eyes intent.

“When a man is sexually frustrated, it can affect his judgment. All
I’m saying is that there’s a lot going on. Is your head in the game or is
your dick leading you right now?”

With everything Kelson had been going through, Rakeym hadn’t

thought about claiming the man. But now that Nazul had planted that
damn seed in his head, Rakeym began to envision the slim shifter
writhing under him as he pleasured the man. How those coppery eyes
would smolder with sensuality and how Kelson’s silky hair would
feel gliding through Rakeym’s fingers.

“Tap that ass so you’ll be able to think straight when Lence shows

up again, because he will show up again. I don’t want Jhan repairing
any more broken furniture or windows.” Nazul slipped out the front
door, leaving Rakeym standing there with a semihard cock.

Taking a lover would be easy for Rakeym. The thought of

claiming a mate, however, made his hands clammy and his heart beat
faster. He highly doubted that Kelson would be receptive to having
sex with him, but Nazul was right. A lot of Rakeym’s anger stemmed
from sexual frustration. He just hadn’t known that until the Sentinel
pointed it out.

It became too hot in the foyer. His gut twisting, Rakeym began to

walk to Kelson’s bedroom. Along the way, his gaze darted into the
kitchen where Meda was washing the dishes from their breakfast.
Rakeym kept going until he was standing in front of the closed
bedroom door.

Letting out a slow breath, he opened it to see Kelson standing

there with nothing more than a towel wrapped around his waist.
Kelson’s eyes shot to Rakeym before the shifter snatched a shirt from

Rakeym 53

where it was sitting on the dresser, shoving it over his head and
pulling it into place.

Rakeym stepped into the room and shut the door behind him.

Even as a youth, he had never been intimidated by sex. In almost all
aspects of his life, Rakeym was strong, self-assured, and knew what
had to be done, or simply what he wanted. He didn’t understand his
hesitation when Kelson turned those coppery eyes on him.

“Was there something you wanted?” His mate grabbed the pajama

pants that had been sitting by the shirt, holding them in front of his
legs like a shield. The fact that Kelson thought himself disfigured, a
monster, made Rakeym’s stomach turn. Especially when Kelson
couldn’t be more wrong. The man’s pale flesh was appealing to
Rakeym, blemished, but still utterly gorgeous.

Rakeym’s fingers began to tingle, the thought of running them

over Kelson’s body rushing to the forefront of his mind. His eyes
landed on the collar and Rakeym’s heart began to beat faster when he
realized how much he liked seeing the black material around Kelson’s
neck. Not because it marked Kelson as his pet, but because, in a way,
it said that Kelson belonged to him. Still, he knew how much the
shifter hated the thing.

“You don’t have to wear that collar in your bedroom.” Rakeym

moved over to the antique dresser and scooped the key from the
colorful dish it had been resting in. He moved behind Kelson,
brushing his knuckles over the satin skin before inserting the key and
releasing the lock. The collar fell away. Rakeym grabbed the material
and set it on the dresser behind him. But he didn’t move away. His
fingers skimmed down Kelson’s bare shoulders before he bent his
head and kissed the exposed flesh just below the line of hair.

Kelson didn’t move. He stood as still as a statue, his body stiff.

Rakeym reached up and ran his fingers through the soft hair, tilting
the man’s head to the side, continuing his nibbling expedition.

Lynn Hagen

“What are you doing?” Kelson’s tone was like a bucket of ice

water being dumped over Rakeym’s head. It was frost filled, coming
out in a snap. Rakeym moved his hands away, taking a step back.

“If I have to tell you—”
Kelson turned, his eyes filled with confusion. “No, I mean, why

are you trying to seduce me?”

Now Rakeym was the one who was lost. “Because you are my

mate.”

Kelson moved away from Rakeym, shaking his head as he crossed

his arms over his stomach. “When you really mean it, come see me.
Don’t try to fuck me just because one of your guards thinks it’s a
good idea.”

Kelson had heard his conversation with Nazul?
“I might be a cute little pet that you want to pat on the head, but

even us dumb coyotes have a remarkable sense of hearing. Fuck off,
Rakeym.” Kelson walked into the bathroom and slammed the door
shut.

* * * *

The hallways were dark. The sound of heavy rain pinging against

the roof—reminding Kelson of the day he had been kidnapped and
Emery had disappeared—kept him awake. As he wandered restlessly,
the smell of wet earth and ozone filled his lungs, his mind trying to
convince him that he was still in that forest, soaking wet, searching
for Emery desperately as his body began to shake from the freezing
rain.

Although the temperature inside Rakeym’s home was

comfortable, Kelson’s bare feet on the polished wood floors became
cold. He pulled his arms into his shirt, hugging his stomach as he
wandered around one corner and then the next. The house was large,
not a mansion, but enough to get him turned around. Meda had gone
home for the night, her visits fewer and fewer with Kelson’s recovery.

Rakeym 55

Still, he tried to remember the paths she had shown him around the
house. All he really remembered was the kitchen. Their tours had
always ended there so she could be sure he wouldn’t starve in this
desolate place.

Compared to the rain echoing around the house, the hallways were

so quiet, nothing seeming to move. He could go back to his room and
try to sleep again, Kelson supposed, but every time he closed his eyes,
he either saw the electric prod, sharp poker, or the knife that had
sliced him up. He wouldn’t risk waking in a cold sweat, his body
trembling as it had before.

Kelson stopped just outside Rakeym’s office. He turned the

handle and let himself in. The room was dark. He found the light
switch and flicked the lever up, a warm glow filling the room. Kelson
walked around the office for a moment, taking everything in before
curling up on the large cushioned love seat that sat to one side, his
eyes gazing out into the night. The rain streaked down the glass,
causing small channels to form as they ran toward the bottom of the
window.

Lightning streaked across the sky and Kelson shot up, his heart

beating faster, his breath coming out in short pants. He could have
sworn he’d seen a shadow just outside the window. He cursed his
imagination. That nightmare still had its claws wrapped around him,
making him see things that weren’t really there. Rakeym had two of
his Sentinels guarding the house, Meda had said, but it was doubtful
they were outside in this driving rain.

It was doubtful anyone was out in this weather.
Kelson hugged himself tighter as he curled back into the cushions.

The floorboards outside the office creaked. His breath stilled as he
listened. Scenting the air, he smelled Shadow elf, but that didn’t mean
anything considering he was in the marshlands. Kelson eased from the
love seat, pulling his arms back out of his shirt before placing his feet
quietly on the floor.

The creak came again.

Lynn Hagen

Kelson hurried to one of the bookcases, the burgundy carpet

insulating the sound of his movements as he grabbed a heavy
bookend. He eased over to the door, waiting behind it as it slowly
opened.

Kelson raised the bookend over his head, his heart slamming in

his chest as a shadow appeared. His arms swung downward, hard,
heavy. At the last second, a hand stopped his forward momentum, the
grip around his wrist tight, almost bone crushing.

“That’s twice now I’ve nearly had something traumatic happen

above my shoulders.” Nazul released Kelson’s wrists, grabbing the
bookend and setting it aside. “I think I just might wear that damn bell
after all.”

It took a moment for Kelson’s pounding heart to settle to a normal

pace. “Stop creeping around this damn house!” He raised a shaky
hand to brush through his hair. “I think you like the thrill of scaring
people.”

The smirk on Nazul’s handsome face said it all. The guy was a

screwed-up bastard. Although Rakeym had nearly sliced the man’s
throat and Kelson had been seconds away from crushing his skull, the
guy enjoyed keeping them on their toes.

Twisted fuck.
Kelson was walking back toward the love seat when Nazul

tackled him. Kelson shouted, his mind trying to understand why the
Sentinel would attack him, when something crashed through the
office window, hitting the floor hard before a blaze of fire began to
lick across the carpet. Another flash of light came through the
window and something hit the bookshelf, the blaze growing higher.

Nazul grabbed Kelson from the carpet and hauled him through the

office door as another guard—Jhan if Kelson remembered correctly—
came racing down the hall. Kelson’s shoulders hunched, prepared for
another firebomb when something crashed in the office. Rakeym
appeared in the hallway, shouting at Jhan. “Hide Kelson in the safe
room.”

Rakeym 57

Before he had a chance to protest, Kelson was being pulled in the

opposite direction as Rakeym passed him, talking to Nazul in a voice
that sounded deadly.

Jhan lead him into the kitchen, and then into the pantry. Kelson

frowned at the choice of hiding place until the Shadow elf removed
the back wall of the small enclosure.

“In here.” Jhan placed his hand on Kelson’s shoulder, moving him

forward. As soon as Kelson cleared the entrance, the door sealed
behind him.

“No!” Kelson slammed his fists into the door just as he heard a

heavy bolt slide into place. A pain filled his chest as he became dizzy.
He frantically pulled at the metal lever but the door wouldn’t open.
Kelson extended his claws, using them to dig into the metal of the
door to no avail. He wasn’t thinking straight. His mind fragmented as
he tried to find a way out of this room.

Rakeym had said safe room. Shouldn’t the door open from the

inside? There shouldn’t be a lock on the outside. There was nothing
safe about this room. Kelson’s pulse skyrocketed as the walls closed
in on him. He couldn’t breathe. It was like being locked in that cage
all over again.

He shouted until his voice was raw before collapsing to the floor

where he hugged his legs, his body trembling uncontrollably as time
became skewed and he waited for the cattle prod to reach through his
cage and the torture to begin.

* * * *

Rakeym came up short when he saw the dead bolt in place. He

could feel the color draining from his face as he reached for the lever.
Kelson had given him a brief description of what he had been
through, the way he’d been locked inside a cage. Rakeym could only
fear the worst.

Lynn Hagen

Opening the door to the safe room, Rakeym stilled. Kelson was

lying on the floor, covered in a thick layer of sweat, his hair matted to
his head. Those coppery eyes that always made Rakeym’s heart skip a
beat were glazed, unfocused.

“Kelson,” he murmured gruffly as he crossed the room and knelt

by his mate, checking the man’s pulse. It was beating so slowly that
Rakeym felt a tight knot form in his stomach. Careful of his sharp
nails, Rakeym slipped his hands under Kelson and pulled the man up,
feeling how cold his mate’s skin was. He moved out of the room,
taking Kelson to his bedroom where Rakeym placed the shifter on the
soft mattress, covering him with two thick blankets.

“Kelson, can you hear me?” Rakeym pressed the back of his hand

to Kelson’s face, soothing his knuckles over chilled flesh. “Kelson.”

Rakeym wasn’t sure what Jhan had been thinking, but the man

was going to answer for locking Kelson in that room. His instructions
had been to hide Kelson in there, not treat him like a prisoner.
Rakeym had never dealt with anyone who seemed so close to being
comatose. He wasn’t sure how to reach Kelson. Letting instinct take
over, Rakeym climbed under the covers and stretched out next to the
shifter. He began to rub Kelson’s arms, trying his best to warm the
man.

Nazul came into the room, his dark-blue eyes landing on Kelson.

His brows knitted together. “Did something happen to him?”

Rakeym didn’t want to discuss what he’d learned about Kelson’s

captivity, but Kelson was going to be a permanent resident here and
Nazul needed to be made aware of certain things, things that had
adversely affected Kelson. “Before I found Kelson in the woods, he
was held in a cage, tortured for god knows how long.”

Nazul rubbed a hand over his face. Fire burned in the head guard’s

eyes. His jaw grew tight at what Rakeym was telling him. Rakeym
could also see empathy in Nazul’s eyes and knew that was a rare thing
for the man. Nazul’s training had been just as harsh, just as cruel as

Rakeym 59

Rakeym’s. For any of the Sentinels to show compassion and caring
was an amazing feat.

“I never want him locked in any small space again.” Rakeym still

didn’t understand why Jhan had locked Kelson in.

It was a safe room. Kelson should have secured it on the inside.

That would have enabled him to leave the room at any time. He
wouldn’t have felt trapped and he wouldn’t now be lost in his mind,
using it as an escape from the horrors of his memories.

“I’ll send for the Mage.” Nazul spun on his heel and left Rakeym

to Kelson. Rakeym had no nurturing memories to draw from, leaving
him clueless about what to do. A large part of him wanted to help
Kelson, wanted to comfort the man. Rakeym tried to think of ways to
soothe his mate, but his mind drew a blank. Now more than ever he
hated his mother for the way she had raised him.

Rakeym remembered being afraid and alone when growing up,

especially when his mother was in a drunken stupor. Those were the
only memories, the only profound feelings he had to call upon. He
curled around Kelson, pulling the man close in his arms and
whispering in his ear, “I don’t know what to do for you, with you. I
seem to be fucking everything up.”

He wasn’t a man to let any soft emotions affect him. But as he lay

next to Kelson, he felt a warm sensation spanning across his chest,
clutching at his heart.

Rakeym tried to give the man as much warmth as possible. He

placed a hand under his mate’s shirt, rubbing his palm across
Kelson’s chest.

Kelson stirred slightly and then began to tremble. Rakeym held

his mate tighter as Kelson slowly came back to him. He had been
fucking this relationship up from the start but prayed he could at least
halfway get this right.

“No more small rooms.” Rakeym whispered the promise against

his mate’s ear.

Lynn Hagen

The tremors turned into full-body wracks, Kelson’s teeth

chattering. Rakeym continued to rub his hands over any and all flesh
within reach, spooning his mate tighter. A sob tore from Kelson’s
throat and Rakeym held onto Kelson so tightly that he feared he
would break the man. Crying wasn’t something he was used to or
practiced himself. His heart tore in two as Kelson lay there falling
apart.

“No more small rooms,” he repeated vehemently. “I promise.”
“You have to free the others.” Kelson’s voice came out raspy and

strained. “You have to go back to that warehouse and free those
shifters.”

Rakeym didn’t have a clue what the man was talking about. “I

give you my word that I will find and rescue them. I’ll send Nazul and
Jhan to the location where I found you. They’ll scout the area and find
out where the others are being held.”

Right now, the only thing on his mind was pulling Kelson back

from the edge. As he held the man, trying to figure out how to
comfort him, Rakeym swore that he would try to change. Kelson
believed in him. His mate had said that it only took the strength of one
to change many. From the firebombing in the office, Rakeym could
see now that he had a battle on his hands and not an easy one.

But he had already known that.
For Kelson, he would fight that battle. He would show his mate

that even someone as lost and broken as Rakeym could change.

Rakeym 61

Chapter Six

Kelson buried his face in Rakeym’s chest, trying his best to rid his

mind of the horror he had been through.

“Better?” Rakeym asked.
Kelson opened his mouth to say yes, but nothing came out. A

lump formed in his throat, threatening to cut off Kelson’s airway as
Rakeym’s hand moved over his body, warming him from the inside
out. Kelson had been against mating Rakeym before because the guy
had only wanted to scratch an itch. This wasn’t touching just for the
sake of slaking a need. Kelson could feel the desire, scent the arousal,
and taste the passion that was clinging to the air.

Rakeym wanted him in a way that a man who was filled with

hunger wanted another. When Kelson gazed up into Rakeym’s face,
the man’s mismatched eyes grew darker, his nostrils flaring slightly as
his hand slowly lowered to the top of Kelson’s backside. One lone
finger slid into the crease, teasing, but didn’t touch the entrance.

Kelson’s breath grew shallow, his pulse quickening. God, Rakeym

was so fierce and so closed off. Kelson wanted to break down those
walls, to know the true leader, to find out who the real Rakeym was.
The man was sharing his body, but Kelson wanted his heart.

Kelson gripped the long, obsidian braid in his hand. He began to

unthread the hair, running his fingers through the satin strands.
Rakeym groaned.

“You like your hair played with?”
“My hair has significance,” Rakeym said, his voice low. “For

Sentinels, the length represents years of training and dedication. It
shows that I mastered the art of war.”

Lynn Hagen

As he unwound the last of the braid, Kelson asked, “What would

happen if you cut it all off?”

Rakeym’s body stiffened as his brows drew together. “I would be

shunned and my rank stripped. I would still hold the markings on my
back, telling all of my birth as a Sentinel, but that would be all I
would have.”

“The Shadow elves have too much pride.” Kelson ran his fingers

over the tips of Rakeym’s long, pointy ears and was stunned to see the
man shudder. He did it again and his mate’s fingers tightened on the
flare of Kelson’s ass. Kelson smiled with the newfound knowledge of
how to turn Rakeym on. Rakeym’s ears were just as sensitive as his
scalp.

Kelson sucked in a breath when Rakeym clasped his ass tighter

with those strong fingers, bringing the two men closer, before
lowering his head and flicking his tongue across the seam of Kelson’s
lips. He nipped Kelson’s lower lip before working his way to the shell
of his ear. Rakeym drew the lobe between his teeth. Kelson could feel
perspiration coating their bodies, the room becoming so hot that he
had to throw the covers back in order to cool off.

“A’maelamin.” Rakeym’s breath blew across his ear. “How I have

been hoping for you, melamin.”

Kelson didn’t have a damn clue what the man was saying, but his

skin flushed hot as his chest rose and fell in quick pants.

Rakeym could tell Kelson that he looked good in a potato sack

and Kelson wouldn’t care, just as long as the guy kept talking in that
deep, rich accent. Rakeym’s tongue slipped inside Kelson’s mouth,
dissolving any and all resistance that might have been lingering in the
air between them. Kelson let the walls come down, pushing closer,
wrapping his hand in the strands that felt like cool water cascading
over his fingers.

Shoving at the waistband of Kelson’s pajama pants, Rakeym

curled his hand around Kelson’s cock. His fingers smoothed over the
swollen head as the man teased Kelson with his tongue. Fire. Heat.

Rakeym 63

Kelson swore he was burning alive in Rakeym’s arms. He gasped
when Rakeym’s tongue traveled the length of his throat, sucking the
skin, causing Kelson’s cock to throb twice as hard.

Desperation filled him. Kelson wanted his pants off. He wanted to

throw his leg over Rakeym’s muscled thigh and open himself up for
his mate. He arched his back once his legs were free, their skin
gliding against each other. Rakeym bit at one nipple before sucking it
into his mouth, sending Kelson into a quaking, shuddering response
that tore a cry from his lips. His body sang, hummed, and sizzled with
Rakeym’s touch, his lips falling apart as he tried to accommodate
more air.

“Cry for me, melamin. Tell me how much you love what I’m

doing to you.” Rakeym worked his lips to Kelson’s other nipple,
giving it just as much attention. Kelson could feel Rakeym’s erection
straining against his soft, leather pants. He rocked his body on the
bulge, wanting to feel it sink deep inside of him. As if reading his
mind, Rakeym reached between them, releasing his shaft. Kelson
ground his hard cock into his mate’s abdomen, fighting for friction,
desperate for release.

When Rakeym reached for the hem of Kelson’s shirt, Kelson

stopped him. “Leave it on.”

Rakeym didn’t look the least bit pleased, but dropped his hand to

pull his own shirt over his head and shove his pants off. He twisted
around and reached for the nightstand.

They were in Rakeym’s bedroom but Kelson had a good idea

what was in that drawer. As Rakeym reached, Kelson took a second
to look down between the man’s legs and then swallowed tightly.
Rakeym’s cock was hanging low, the heavy weight of the thick
muscle pulling his shaft down until it stood out straight. Kelson
wasn’t sure his ass would accommodate that cock. Rakeym came
back with a jar of clear liquid, unscrewing the cap, his eyes
concentrating on what he was doing. Kelson bit his lip, knowing he

Lynn Hagen

was about to be claimed, his heart thumping loudly in his chest at the
thought.

Setting the jar aside, Rakeym’s hand glistened with the clear

liquid before he lathered his cock. “I can’t stretch you.” The man
looked genuinely remorseful. “My nails…”

Kelson didn’t need the man to explain any further. The sharp

points would tear Kelson apart if Rakeym even tried. For a fleeting
moment, Kelson wondered how anyone could look at Rakeym as a
freak of nature, a mutant. He was breathtakingly beautiful, every
damn inch of him.

The safe room, the cage, his torture were all a blurry memory as

Rakeym pressed the head of his cock to Kelson’s ass. Kelson had just
enough time to inhale fully before Rakeym drove his cock deep,
making Kelson cry out as he gripped the man’s chest, digging his
nails into hard muscles. His head twisted, his lips parted, and Kelson
didn’t care who heard him as he shouted again.

Rakeym turned until Kelson was beneath him. Grabbing Kelson’s

inner thighs, Rakeym spread them apart. The man looked animalistic
as he knelt between Kelson’s legs. His blue, rippling muscles, his
biceps, chest, and tightly packed abs all moved as Rakeym thrust his
cock into Kelson’s ass. His hair fell over his shoulders, giving him a
rough, rogue look. Kelson closed his eyes, wrapping his legs around
Rakeym’s waist as his fingers clawed at the pillows.

“Oh, god…I need to bite.” Kelson felt so full, so stretched with

the delicious pleasure. But it was his gums that ached, his canines that
lengthened as his body geared up to claim the Shadow elf. But…he
wasn’t sure if Rakeym would allow him to.

His mate pressed a palm on either side of Kelson’s head, hovering

over him, his body rocking as his cock plunged into Kelson. Before
Kelson could open his mouth and beg, Rakeym pulled his hair to one
side, exposing his toned shoulder. He pulled Kelson up until he was
straddling Rakeym’s lap, strong fingers pressing into Kelson’s back,
holding him in place.

Rakeym 65

“Son of a bitch,” Rakeym groaned.
Kelson fisted his mate’s long, silky hair, and the extreme

dominance and sexual expression in Rakeym’s gorgeous eyes
prompted a flood of pleasure so intense it was almost a physical ache.

“Bite.” The growled word rumbled between them, Rakeym telling

Kelson to claim him. Rakeym’s features were a mask of darkness, his
eyes a sensual heat. Kelson could feel the power beneath his hands as
Rakeym moved inside of him. The sounds Rakeym was making
reminded Kelson of a predator—hungry, consuming.

Kelson touched Rakeym’s face, letting the tips of his fingers trace

along the fine lines and strong bones. The man was magnificent. How
could Rakeym ever think himself a monster?

Brushing his hair to one side, Rakeym offered Kelson his neck

once more. This time Kelson didn’t hesitate. He sank his teeth deep,
his body arching as his mate drove his cock in further. Rakeym’s
chest pressed into Kelson’s like a solid wall, the friction delicious and
welcome.

Kelson whimpered into Rakeym’s shoulder, his fingers digging

into his mate’s upper arms. The excitement in him began to rise, his
legs tightening around Rakeym’s powerful thighs. He didn’t want this
to end. Kelson didn’t want to leave the protection of Rakeym’s body.

Rakeym panted in Kelson’s ear before he let go of a low and

sensual growl. His hips thrust forward and Kelson damn near lost his
mind. He licked the wound and snaked his hands between their
bodies, grabbing his own cock and stroking the hard flesh as Rakeym
laid Kelson down.

This position enabled Rakeym to power drive into Kelson’s

writhing body. Kelson stroked his cock a few more times before he
cried out, “Rakeym!”

Kelson felt dizzy. His senses were clouded as Rakeym bowed his

back and let go of a shout, his cock pulsing in Kelson’s ass.

Lynn Hagen

Kelson stared up at Rakeym, into eyes transformed into

bottomless pits of lust, his blue cheekbones flushed. The man’s mouth
was fiery, his tongue delving deep as his teeth tugged at Kelson’s lip.

Rakeym pulled his softening cock free just as the door swung

open. The blanket was thrown over Kelson so quickly that he didn’t
even have time to blink. Rakeym crouched over Kelson, a deep growl
filling the room.

“Uh, I have the Mage with me.” Nazul had the decency to look

embarrassed.

“Give us a moment,” Rakeym barked as he stood, the door

closing. Kelson lay there trying to catch his breath as Rakeym pulled
his pants on.

“I don’t need a doctor.” Kelson pulled the covers over his chest,

curling onto his side. “I’m fine.”

“I agree.”
Kelson’s jaw dropped, stunned. He thought for sure Rakeym

would demand he be examined.

His mate walked to the door, turned back toward Kelson, and said,

“I’ll be back.”

* * * *

“Kelson tells me that there are others,” Rakeym said in a low tone

as he watched the Mage take her leave. “I promised him that I would
free them, but I fear leaving him alone.”

Nazul fully understood Rakeym’s worry. The tribe had caught

wind that their leader was housing a shifter. Although the lie about
Kelson being Rakeym’s pet was placating them for now, Nazul knew
that wouldn’t hold up for much longer. “Why don’t I send Talon?”

Rakeym shook his head. “I want my two most trusted. You will be

rescuing shifters and I’m not sure what Talon’s stand on the species is
yet.” He told Nazul where he’d found Kelson.

Rakeym 67

Although Talon had a lot of growing up to do, Nazul knew the

Sentinel. Talon wasn’t prejudiced. But Nazul wasn’t going to stand
here and debate with Rakeym. He could see the resolve in his leader’s
eyes and knew the man wasn’t going to budge. “As you wish.”

Nazul left Rakeym standing in the hallway as he sought out Jhan.

The Sentinel was standing guard at the front door. “We have a
mission. Go get Talon and tell him to guard Rakeym’s home.”

Jhan quirked a brow, but didn’t question Nazul. Once Talon was

in place, the two took off.

Nazul and Jhan moved through the forest, keeping their steps light

as they scanned the area for signs of a building. The rainstorm the
night before had saturated the ground, creating small lakes in some
areas. The rain was still falling, but lightly now.

Nazul bent at the waist, brushing his hand over a fading footprint.

The tracks would wash out soon, so he needed to follow them
quickly. Jhan was already ahead of him, making his way down the
small hillside. As far back as Nazul could remember Jhan had been
impatient.

That was not a good quality to have as Sentinel.
Scenting the air, Nazul sifted through the different odors, pushing

aside the smell of wet earth to latch onto a tiny fragrance. Demon.
Nazul rose to his feet and followed Jhan until they had cleared the
woods. There was a small structure in front of Nazul. The words
Wildlife Refuge were etched into a sign that hung on one side of the
building.

Nazul had a feeling this was no refuge. But there were large

fences surrounding the place. One in particular looked brand new. As
if it had been erected just days ago. The cement that held the posts
still appeared wet. The newly placed gate stopped anyone from
entering or exiting the building without using some sort of access
code.

Jhan glanced in his direction. Nazul made a whirly motion with

his hand, telling the other Sentinel that they were going around back.

Lynn Hagen

The two moved quickly and quietly. Nazul spotted a few cameras
mounted in various places.

Someone was paranoid.
Three were mounted on the back of the building alone, two in the

trees surrounding the perimeter. A few more were attached to the
fence that ran along the property.

There was no way any wildlife refuge would go to such an

extreme with security. Nazul realized too late that he had probably
made a grand entrance on at least five of those cameras.

Jhan swiftly climbed over the fence and scaled the side of the

building, moving until he was on the slanted roof. Nazul did the same.
If they had been spotted, they had precious little time before men with
guns emerged.

“There’s soot-covered windows on the south side of the building,”

Jhan said. “We can ease them open and gain entrance there.”

“Good work,” Nazul said. He rolled his shoulders, the long blade

that was sheathed on his back reminding him that he was here to not
only rescue those who had been captured, but take down anyone who
stood in his way.

Jhan had a blade strapped to each thigh and his bow and arrows on

his back. The Sentinel was unmatched when it came to his skills as an
archer. He could hit a moving target and drop an eagle from the sky.

But Nazul wasn’t without his own set of skills. He excelled at

hand-to-hand combat. Rakeym had trained him long and hard, over
many decades.

Easing over the side of the roof, Nazul spotted the windows Jhan

had seen. But the latches looked rusted, fusing the locking
mechanisms to the frames. Reaching for the blade he kept sheathed on
his thigh, Nazul worked until he had the two parts separated on the
closest window.

The hinges are going to resist and make one hell of a sound.
What the hell. Who wants to live forever?

Rakeym 69

Nazul grinned wickedly at the thought of a challenge. But he at

least wanted to be inside the building before he had to fight. Getting
shot off of the roof wasn’t on his list of things to do today.

Nazul inched forward and then spun to his back when a searing

pain tore through his stomach. He saw a nail sticking out of the
asphalt shingle. The head had broken off, leaving a dangerous weapon
in its wake. Nazul glanced down to see he had a long, bleeding cut
running down his abdomen.

“Can’t take you anywhere,” Jhan teased. “Are you going to cry

like a little girl?”

Nazul growled at Jhan. “Sorry, I wouldn’t want to sound like

you.”

Jhan winked at him before Nazul eased the window open and

slipped inside. He had to scale down the wall since the windows were
placed twenty feet high.

The first thing he spotted was five cages.
All occupied. The stench of death filled his nostrils as he looked

around the barren room. The place reeked of foul odors. Nazul closed
his lips tightly, not wanting to consume those retched fumes.

“What the—” Jhan whispered as he covered his nose and mouth

with his hand. His dark-green eyes scanned the room and then
stopped when they landed on the cages.

Nazul moved quietly across the room, spotting two grey wolves to

his left. They weren’t moving. He suspected the death stench was
coming from their cages. They appeared skeletal, their sides sunken in
to the point that they didn’t seem real.

What in the hell was going on in this place?
The fox to Nazul’s right shifted, his fingers curling around the

bars of his cage. The man was emaciated. “Get me out of here!”

Nazul held his finger to his lips, silencing the young man. A puma

shifter growled low as it head butted the cage. Nazul could scent the
creature’s anger and fear.

Lynn Hagen

The fifth cage held a large Bengal tiger who just sat there

watching them with cautious and curious eyes. He didn’t move and he
didn’t make a sound. Nazul was momentarily mesmerized by the
tiger’s majestic beauty. The tiger sat there proudly, refusing to
whimper or growl.

Jhan began to work on the fox shifter’s cage while Nazul worked

to open the tiger’s cage. He wasn’t too sure about the puma. The cat
seemed extremely aggressive. Nazul understood the cat’s anger, but
he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of it if he freed the creature.

And the wolves. Nazul was not looking forward to checking on

them.

“Thanks!” the fox shifter said as he hurried from the cage. “That

last guy who ran from here didn’t even bother to come back.”

“Are you referring to Kelson?” Nazul asked as he eyed the puma.
The fox shifter cocked his head to the side. “How do you know he

was here?”

“Because he’s the one who sent us after you,” Jhan answered as

he moved across the room and squatted down by the wolves’ cages.
He lowered his head as he curled his fingers around the bar and Nazul
knew that the wolves were dead. He sent up a silent prayer to his
gods, wishing them a safe journey into the afterlife.

“Can we get out of here?” The fox shifter bounced from foot to

foot, chewing his lower lip as he gazed toward the door. “I don’t want
to get caught escaping.”

Nazul could see the many scars on the man’s naked form. The

only way a shifter didn’t heal was if something silver was used. It
turned Nazul’s stomach to know that this man had been tortured. And
starved, judging by his wasted body.

But if silver had been used, then the shifter would be dead. Nazul

wasn’t sure what’d happened and didn’t have time to ask.

As soon as he unlocked the tiger’s cage, the majestic beast walked

out at a slow pace, holding his head high before he shifted. He was

Rakeym 71

thick with muscles and his hair was short, the color of ginger. The
man had the most gorgeous amber eyes Nazul had ever seen.

“Thank you.” The tiger shifter gave a half bow before turning

toward the puma shifter. “He must be freed.”

“I’m not too sure about that,” Jhan said, though Nazul could see

the Sentinel wasn’t in the least bit intimidated by the puma. Cautious
was another thing. “He just might reward us by trying to rip our
throats out.”

The tiger shifter shook his head. “He is angry for being captured.

He will not harm you.”

“How do you know that?” Nazul asked, his eyes still glued to the

man’s hard body.

“Because I will kill him if he tries.”
Fate is definitely testing me today. Nazul used his knife to work

the lock open. When the door swung wide, he didn’t jump back.
Nazul locked eyes with the puma, showing the cat that he didn’t fear
the creature.

The puma leapt from his cage, snarling at all of them before

bounding toward the door.

You’re welcome.
All four men followed the puma. Nazul stuck his head out of the

door and checked the hallway. It was empty. The lights overhead
flickered as if they were in a horror movie. The eerie glow of the
erratic bulbs made shadows appear and disappear. Nazul wasn’t
getting a good feeling about this.

The puma didn’t wait. As soon as Nazul had the door opened, the

cat raced down the hallway. Nazul wanted to shout for the man to use
more caution, but he knew the cat wouldn’t listen to him. The beast
was hell bent on gaining his freedom.

The naked tiger shifter moved behind Nazul and it took

everything in Nazul to concentrate. He was highly aware of the hard
muscles and wall of flesh within reach.

Lynn Hagen

The fox shifter was situated between Jhan and Nazul. The guy

seemed unsteady on his feet, but kept pace. Twice Nazul almost
reached out to right the guy when he tilted too far to one side. As they
made their way to the exit, Nazul wondered why this had been so
easy.

With all the cameras around, they should have been spotted by

now. But aside from them, no one was around. Nazul knew better
than to trust things that came too easily.

Nazul noticed the fox shifter wiping sweat from his brow.

Perspiration was building on the man’s upper lip. He wasn’t going to
make it out of here on his own.

Something creaked behind them. But when Nazul turned, he saw

no one. The sooner they left this place, the better. He wasn’t one to
give in to fright, but the hairs on the back of his neck warned him to
be extremely cautious.

“I hear it as well,” the tiger commented from behind Nazul.

“Someone is here.”

As he grabbed the fox shifter under his upper arm, the four began

to move at a faster pace. The red glow of the exit sign was just ahead.
But as they turned the corner, two very large, muscled men stood
between them and their freedom.

“Going somewhere?” one of the muscled men asked.
Nazul pulled his blade from the sheath strapped to his back,

brandishing the cool metal. “I would advise you to step aside.”

The puma was pacing back and forth in front of the two men,

snarling, but not attacking. Nazul wasn’t sure why. The puma could
take these men down. But the cat seemed to hesitate, like the hell he’d
gone through made him almost afraid of these men.

The tiger shifted back into his cat form, letting go of a low,

rumbling growl. The muscled men looked between the two cats, but
didn’t move away from the door. “Marino is going to kill all of you.”

Rakeym 73

Nazul had no idea who Marino was, but he highly doubted the guy

was going to win this battle. Moving between the cats, Nazul brought
the tip of his blade close to the guard’s face. “Move. Aside. Saurar.”

“I’m guessing that’s an insult,” the guard said. “No matter.”
Nazul wasn’t sure what the man’s reply meant until he heard

someone coming up behind him. It wasn’t Jhan because the Sentinel
was standing just to his right. From the wicked gleam in the guard’s
eye, it was someone he thought could best Nazul.

Taking a step back, Nazul turned to see the most hideous creature

he had ever laid eyes on. The man was scaly and repulsive. His eyes
were too large for his head, his teeth long and sharp. His skin was
greyish with a tough leathery appearance.

The fox shifter whimpered and slumped by the wall, shielding his

head with his hands. The air around them became stifling and Nazul
was tempted to close his mouth so he wouldn’t breathe the creature’s
stench in. “And you are?”

The creature made a sound as if it hurt to breathe. It was windy

and rattling. “Someone who will make your life a living hell.”

Nazul had seen hell. He’d lived it growing up and in training. He

highly doubted this man could do any worse. “You are holding these
shifters against their will,” Nazul stated as he continued to hold his
blade steadily in front of his chest. It felt strange defending anyone
who was not a Shadow elf. Their race tended to stick to themselves
and let the rest of the world sort their own problems out. But Nazul
had given Rakeym his word that he would free these shifters.

“They are considered casualties of war,” the creature stated.
“There is no war,” Nazul replied.
“You Shadow elves need to pay closer attention to the world

around you.” The creature threw his head back and laughed, but the
sound wasn’t right. It wasn’t laughter, but something that reminded
Nazul of a battle cry. Nazul raised his blade, taking a fighting stance
as the creature moved toward him.

Lynn Hagen

Chapter Seven

Rakeym tried to turn on his heel and walk away, but it was too

late. His mother had already spotted him. She was standing by his
front door, a hard edge to her delicate features as she argued with
Talon, showing the Sentinel very little respect. Her tongue was as
vicious as ever as she unleashed it on the poor man. To Talon’s credit,
he stood his ground and didn’t flinch when she made references to his
mother that would have anyone else up in arms.

Rakeym had endured that sharp tongue his entire life. “How good

to see you, Fayette.” Rakeym gave Talon a nod and the Sentinel
moved aside to allow her entrance.

She moved through the front door as if she had every right to be

here. Which was the farthest thing from the truth. She of all people
should know that Rakeym didn’t like uninvited visitors. But that
never stopped her.

“I hear you have a filthy dog.” Her eyes raked over Rakeym in her

usual condescending manner, but Rakeym ignored her. Her scathing
glances no longer bothered him. They should, but he had stopped
caring what she thought eons ago.

“Is there something you wanted, Tyelka?” Rakeym stopped

himself from spatting her maternal connection to him. That would
only fuel her obstinacy.

Pushing her dark hair from her face, Fayette glanced around the

foyer, as if she expected Kelson to come around the corner at any
second to sniff at her hand and whimper at her feet. The idea made
Rakeym’s lip curl.

Rakeym 75

“I came to see your pet,” she announced as she tried to get past

him, but Rakeym stepped in front of her, blocking her from taking a
step further into his home. He towered over her, but that didn’t seem
to faze her one bit. Her dark-blue eyes bore into him as she placed her
hands on her hips. “Why are you acting like this?”

The scent of alcohol blew up toward his nostrils. She huffed a

disgruntled sigh as she once again tried to step around him. Rakeym
squared his shoulders. He mentally counted to ten, telling himself that
he couldn’t toss her out on her ass—even though the thought was
tempting.

But Fayette was damn good at making trouble, and that was the

last thing he wanted. Someone had already tried to burn his home
down and Rakeym knew the violence would only escalate over time.
He was trying to find a solution to his tribe’s hatred, and having a
visit from the callous woman was not helping.

“You are drunk, Tyelka,” Rakeym stated. “Go home and rest.”
It was impossible to predict her behavior. Not every encounter he

had with his mother went badly. But Rakeym was not willing to allow
her to venture further into his home. He had Kelson to consider and
he knew his mother would not have a kind word for Rakeym’s mate.

If she ever found out that Kelson was his mate instead of his pet,

no doubt a war would probably break out. Rakeym knew she was
looking for the smallest reason to have him dethroned—as she called
it. He no more sat on a throne than she baked cookies.

And a war it would be, because Rakeym was not giving up his

position. He often wondered why Ahm had handed over the tribe to a
mutant. The man could have given it to Jhan or Nazul. They were just
as qualified, but Rakeym had never asked Ahm. His friend had given
him a flimsy reason, but Rakeym knew there was more to it than
Ahm’s belief that Rakeym was well suited for the job.

Was there something deep inside Ahm that hoped that, by giving

Rakeym the tribe, the Shadow elves would accept a mutant?

Lynn Hagen

“I am not drunk.” His mother cut into Rakeym’s thoughts. “I came

to examine your pet and I’m not leaving until I do.” She shifted to her
other foot as she squared her slim shoulders in rebellion. Rakeym had
seen that look a hundred times before and knew she was going to keep
pressing until she had her way.

Fayette had a way of making the men she slept with into her

puppets, ready to do whatever she asked. But he wasn’t one of the
men who frequented her bed. He wasn’t going to bow to her demands.
This was his home.

“Leave,” he demanded.
Instead of arguing with him, his mother smiled. That, he hadn’t

expected. She tilted to the side as her eyes took in something behind
Rakeym.

He already knew who was there before he turned to see Kelson.

The man stood in the foyer. Thankfully he was fully clothed. The man
hadn’t even taken the collar off.

“My, my.” His mother practically purred the words as she slinked

around Rakeym. “You do know how to pick the pretty ones.” Her
hand came up in a stop gesture before swiping past Kelson’s face.
“Although he’s damaged. I hope you got a bargain for the markings
on his handsome face.”

Before Rakeym could stop her, his mother grabbed Kelson’s

groin. Kelson yelped before smacking her hand away. The heat in
Kelson’s eyes said he was five seconds away from giving her a piece
of his mind. Stunned, Rakeym wondered why Kelson hadn’t lit into
her. The man didn’t seem to have a problem voicing his opinions.

“How dare you!” Fayette raised her hand to strike Kelson, but

Rakeym caught it in midair. His fingers bruised her flesh before he
released her. “I see you are fond of him,” she said.

“You have seen him.” Rakeym was trying his best to keep his

anger from exploding. “Now go.”

She turned on her heel, her vivid blue gown with cream swirls

fanning out behind her as she walked toward the front door. “I told

Rakeym 77

you that you would bring this tribe down,” she said without bothering
to turn around. “Next thing you know, those mutts will be running
amuck through this village.” She paused at the door, her hand resting
on the frame. “Get rid of him before everyone else wants a pet.”

She was gone before Rakeym could reply.
“Next time your mother wants to grope me, tell her to buy me

dinner first,” Kelson said before leaving the foyer with a scowl on his
face.

Rakeym rubbed his temples, wondering if his day was going to

improve. If one more person came by to see his pet, Rakeym was
going to place bars over his doors.

He knew he should go talk to Kelson, but Rakeym went to his

office instead. He had work to do. Whether his tribe accepted him or
not, Rakeym believed in running a tight ship. There were disputes to
settle, politics to suffer through, and he still had to figure out why
Myne and Yante were combing the village.

He thought about handing some of his lighter duties down to

Nazul, but the tribe already thought Rakeym incapable. If he let
anyone else handle the problems he needed to resolve, people would
start to say he was too dim witted to handle simple tasks.

Rakeym wondered if he would ever catch a break. Just as he

thought things couldn’t get worse, Kelson walked into his office,
blood trickling from his scalp.

* * * *

Kelson could not believe that bitch had hit him. Rakeym’s mother

had come out of nowhere and smacked him with something hard, but
Kelson hadn’t had time to see what the object was.

“What the hell happened?” Rakeym stood so fast that his chair

clattered to the floor behind him. Kelson was still attempting to get
his bearings, trying hard not to face-plant into the floor. He could feel

Lynn Hagen

the blood trickling from his head, the warmth and scent nauseating
him. God how he hated blood.

“Your mother.” Kelson no sooner said those two words than

shouting began somewhere in the house. Rakeym ran his fingers
through Kelson’s hair and Kelson could see the fury in the man’s
eyes.

“Stay in my office.” Rakeym moved quickly to the door and was

gone. Hell, the guy didn’t have to worry about Kelson going back out
there. Rakeym’s mother was a brute.

But he did move closer to the door, eavesdropping on the

commotion outside. He heard something break and then Rakeym’s
voice grew louder. Kelson’s stomach knotted at how deadly his mate
sounded.

“You have five seconds to leave before I seriously hurt you,”

Rakeym said and Kelson could only guess that his mate was talking to
his mother.

“Tell me, Rakeym. Why are you so defensive over your pet? I can

see in your eyes that you are hiding something,” Rakeym’s mother
shot back. “Why do you have a male pet? I’m willing to bet you’re
gay and he’s your mate. You’re pathetic, following the same path as
Ahm!”

Kelson glanced around the office, wondering what he should do.

The Shadow elves were tall, majestic beings who could squash
Kelson like a bug. He considered picking up a bookend and smashing
it over Rakeym’s mother’s head, but he wasn’t sure how fond of the
lady Rakeym was.

“Get your grubby paws off of me!”
Kelson couldn’t resist when he heard her shout. He pulled the

door slightly open to see two blue guards grabbing the woman under
her arms. Queen Bitch didn’t look too happy.

“I’m going to make you pay for this,” she said with venom in her

voice. “One day you’re going to fall from your mighty throne and I’m
going to be there to watch your mutant ass die.”

Rakeym 79

Well, damn. Kelson wanted to go out there and not only comfort

Rakeym, but smack the venomous woman in her hateful mouth.
Rakeym didn’t seem fazed by her words, but Kelson could see a small
twitch in the man’s jaw. His stony appearance was a front, plain and
simple. What man wouldn’t be crushed if his mother said such hurtful
words?

“We’re all dark, evil bastards. You’re just pissed because I’m the

darkest, evilest bastard of them all,” Rakeym replied before he flicked
his hand and the guards pulled the woman away.

As soon as the hallway was clear, Kelson approached Rakeym,

unsure what to say. No words came to mind to remove the hard slap
Fayette had delivered. “Don’t let one person stop you from holding
your head high.”

It was lame, but the only thing he could think to say.
Rakeym looked down at Kelson, his eyes filled with fire. “The

only thing that happens when you hold your head up is drowning
when the downpour comes.”

Kelson thought Rakeym was about to walk away. Instead, his

mate touched the cut his mother had given Kelson. “I’m sorry this
happened to you.”

Kelson shrugged. “I’ve lived through worse.”
“But you shouldn’t have to,” Rakeym said before taking Kelson’s

hand and leading him toward Rakeym’s bedroom. He wasn’t sure
what his mate wanted, but he sat on the bed when they entered the
room. Rakeym went into the bathroom and came back with a wet
cloth, dabbing at the wound. Kelson was floored by the man’s
attentiveness. Rakeym was so tough, so closed off. Kelson wanted to
break through that shield, to dissolve the barrier between them. He’d
always heard stories about how mates found each other and instantly
fell in love. What a crock of shit. Even if Rakeym wasn’t his mate,
Kelson would want to help the guy. He’d never met anyone so
isolated, so damn lonely before.

Lynn Hagen

Kelson’s eyes fluttered closed when Rakeym kissed him on the

wound, his lips lingering, the scent of the man swallowing Kelson
whole. The power of Rakeym’s body being so close had Kelson
yearning to be in his mate’s arms once again as Rakeym made love to
him.

“A’maelamin,” Rakeym whispered. His hands skimmed over

Kelson’s arms, making goose bumps rise on his skin. Kelson’s lips
parted as he tilted his head to the side, his cock hard, his mind blown
away by that simple touch. Rakeym was a like a hit of a drug,
powerful and straight to the brain. Kelson was lost, floating, riding
Rakeym’s high.

“Rakeym.” Kelson groaned in protest when the Sentinel stilled,

his hands tightening on Kelson’s hips. He glanced at Rakeym through
the fall of his bangs, worried that he had done something wrong. The
wonderment on Rakeym’s face was something Kelson would never
forget. He stared like he had just discovered that Kelson hung the
moon and the stars.

“The way you say my name,” Rakeym murmured, his voice filled

with awe.

“Do you like the way I say your name, Rakeym?”
He pulled Kelson into his arms and they both tumbled backward

onto the bed until Rakeym landed just to the side of his beautiful
mate, Kelson’s eyes blazing now with want and need.

Kelson gasped when Rakeym cupped his face, pulling it toward

his. Rakeym’s eyes locked onto Kelson’s luscious and tempting lips.
They were perfectly made for kissing. They were made for him.
Rakeym slanted his mouth over Kelson’s, trying his best to devour the
man. He wasn’t about to lose the chance to taste heaven.

Rakeym’s hands slid up Kelson’s sides and then wrapped around

him, pulling his body closer as he took over the kiss, tilting his head
for better access. Kelson opened, letting go of a deep moan as his
hands tangled in Rakeym’s hair, tugging it gently. The sensation
brought a tingle to Rakeym’s skin, his body reacting to the soft

Rakeym 81

touches of his mate. Rakeym wanted desperately to tell Kelson how
he felt, to let the coyote shifter know that he cared deeply for him, but
lacked the right words to convey those feelings. Rakeym wasn’t used
to telling anyone how he felt. It was foreign to him.

But he would try. Rakeym wanted Kelson to know that he was a

stunning creature that fascinated him.

“So pretty,” he whispered as Kelson spread his legs apart, giving

Rakeym all the room he needed. “Tell me what you want, Kelson,”
Rakeym commanded deeply. “Tell me what you want me to do with
this sexy little body of yours.” Because Rakeym planned on pleasing
every inch of his mate. It was a point of pride among his people to
leave their lovers well sated and too tired to beg for more.

“I want you…” Kelson curled his lips in as his cheeks flushed.
“Tell me, melamin,” Rakeym encouraged as he lifted a strand of

Kelson’s hair with the tip of his black fingernail. Rakeym leaned in
and inhaled the wonderful scent, feeling a rumbling purr climbing up
his chest.

Kelson’s lips parted as he tilted his neck to the side, his eyes

fluttering as if he would close them. “Let your shields down and show
me the real Rakeym—the man who I know lives inside of you.”

“And what else?” Rakeym asked as he climbed off of the bed and

slowly peeled his clothes from his body. “I want to hear your deepest
desires, you most treasured dreams.”

Kelson watched every move Rakeym made, his eyes so full of

hunger that Rakeym let go of a low growl.

“I want to taste you.”
Those words sent a vibration down Rakeym’s spine and heated

lust coursing to his groin.

Rakeym groaned as he climbed back onto the bed and knelt in

front of Kelson. He hooked his hand around Kelson’s neck, bringing
the man’s succulent lips to the head of his cock. “Then taste your
warrior, melamin.”

Lynn Hagen

Kelson’s lips parted and Rakeym pulled in a lungful of air before

his mate engulfed him. Rakeym hissed in pleasure as he watched
Kelson taste him for the very first time. Kelson’s lips were so soft, so
moist that Rakeym couldn’t stop himself from driving forward,
feeding Kelson his cock in small bursts. He gripped his mate’s hair,
tugging on the brunet strands as he slid his cock in deeper.

“Mela en’ coiamin.”
Rakeym shuddered when Kelson moaned around his cock. He was

so close already that he knew he would be coming soon. His balls
were drawn up tight and a tingle had started in his spine. He needed
the edge taken off.

Rakeym gave a few more short thrusts and then came down

Kelson’s throat, his body shuddering as his orgasm washed through
him. He knelt there for a moment, breathing through the hedonic
feeling before pulling his cock free.

The breath caught in Rakeym’s throat as he watched Kelson roll

over, dropping his head down to the mattress and sticking his ass up
in the air. He felt his entire body shake with need, with the control it
took to not attack his mate right there and then and ram his aching
cock into the little pink puckered hole twinkling up at him. He ran his
hands up and down Kelson’s rear end and then dipped a single digit
into the crease of his ass, taking great care not to harm the man with
his sharp fingernails. He circled Kelson’s tight little entrance with his
finger, playing with it, teasing it until it was pulsing to be filled.

“You must stretch yourself, melamin.” But that didn’t mean

Rakeym couldn’t help.

After grabbing the lube, he lathered his mate’s hand and then

curled Kelson’s fingers in, leaving one lone finger to stand out.
Rakeym guided it into Kelson’s body until the finger slid past the
band of muscles and sank all the way in. He released his mate’s hand,
feeling his cock begin to fill again. He became hard at the sight.

Rakeym placed kisses along Kelson’s spine, paying close

attention to the scars that riddled the man’s body, pressing his lips

Rakeym 83

into the raised flesh. Rakeym was well aware of how self-conscious
Kelson was, thinking himself a monster. He wanted his mate to know
that Rakeym thought that notion the farthest thing from the truth. “So
sexy.”

Kelson shuddered and added two more fingers, making Rakeym

groan. If he’d known how much watching his mate stretch himself
would turn him on, Rakeym would have had Kelson do this the first
time they’d had sex.

Rakeym kissed the skin at the nape of Kelson’s neck, down his

spine, past his shoulder blades, to the little dip at the base of his back.
The longer his tongue played over Kelson’s skin, the harder Rakeym
became. His tongue trailed a path to the man’s crease and then swiped
over Kelson’s invading fingers.

Kelson jerked, rising up on his toes, his breath coming out so fast

that Rakeym thought the man was going to pass out. He grinned and
did it again.

“Mmm, you like that.” Rakeym swiped his tongue a few more

times, his hands holding Kelson in place. He loved the way he made
his mate writhe around, his lithe body wiggling as Rakeym licked the
man repeatedly. Rakeym pulled Kelson’s fingers free and then
plunged his tongue deep into his mate’s ass.

Kelson’s hips were rocking from side to side as he tried to push

his ass back, impaling his hole onto Rakeym’s tongue. Rakeym
wrapped his fingers around his shaft, taking his pleasure to new
heights. The scent, the taste, the needy groans coming from Kelson
combined until Rakeym’s senses began to reel. He wanted to be the
man Kelson begged to see. Rakeym hated being closed off, always
suspicious, always on guard. But he’d lived that way for so long that
he wasn’t sure how he could pull those walls down or if he even
could.

Yes, he wanted to do it for Kelson and was going to try. But the

concept scared him in ways he’d never felt before. His mate was
asking Rakeym to expose a side of himself that he’d buried a long

Lynn Hagen

time ago—to let someone in when all Rakeym had ever tried to do
was shut everyone out.

He ran his hands up and down Kelson’s backside, letting the tips

of his nails gently scrape over his mate’s smooth flesh.

Kelson jerked as he groaned, his legs spreading further apart.
Rakeym’s lips pulled back into a hungry snarl as he watched

Kelson scoot closer. He gripped one pale globe and gave the skin a
light squeeze. “Someone wants to get fucked.”

Kelson whimpered.
Rakeym shuddered as he pressed the head of his cock into

Kelson’s back entrance, pushing slowly until the tip slipped in.
Rakeym inched in by tiny increments.

“A’maelamin,” Rakeym moaned. The heat built higher, hotter. His

body became inflamed as they slid along each other. His control was
slipping.

Rakeym began to fuck into Kelson’s ass with hard, deep lunges

that had his mate crying out his name. He watched each hard thrust
stretch Kelson, a sight which propelled Rakeym into a flight to
ecstasy, his cock powering into his mate, filling him, stroking the
already-blistering heat higher.

A dark and feral surge washed over him. Rakeym reached under

Kelson and gripped the man’s cock with his still-lubed hand. The
heated flesh slid through his fingers, pulsed, and then pulled back.

A cry tore from Kelson as his cock began to throb in Rakeym’s

hand and his mate’s tight hole gripped him like an iron fist. He
slammed his eyes closed, trying to stave off his orgasm, but it was a
battle that he was quickly losing. Kelson’s body felt too damn good.

He was overwhelmed by the heated tightness surrounding his hard

shaft and the sound of pure ecstasy in Kelson’s voice. Rakeym could
feel the white-hot tongues of fire moving down his spine now. The
pleasure wrapped over the head of Rakeym’s erection like tiny fingers
of paradise.

Rakeym 85

After a flurry of hard and fast thrusts, Rakeym finally froze,

buried as deeply as he could be and roared as his cock erupted. He
was pulsing, erupting, dragging air into his lungs as the pleasure
swept through him, seeming never to end.

Rakeym pulled his cock from Kelson’s ass, watching as his mate

tried to catch his breath.

Rakeym was panting just as hard, sweat covering every inch of his

body. When he finally got his breathing under control, Rakeym lifted
his head and looked down at the man that meant everything to him—
even if he couldn’t find the words to convey that. Kelson’s eyes were
closed, his lips slightly parted, his face flushed with fading desire.
Rakeym could see that Kelson had fallen asleep.

“I love you,” he whispered, closing his eyes as the ice that

encased his heart began to melt. Something inside of him shattered
and Rakeym felt true terror fill him. For the first time in his life, his
enemies had something precious that they could use against him, to
destroy his very world.

Lynn Hagen

Chapter Eight

Nazul rolled when the creature leapt at him. He’d tried to use his

blade, but the man had been too fast. The tiger let out a loud growl
before bounding toward them, but one of the guards tackled the tiger.

“You will now be a casualty as well,” the creature said, hissing

into Nazul’s face. Nazul placed his back against the wall before using
his feet to propel the man away from him. The creature hit the floor
before howling in rage. Nazul knew he had to get the shifters out of
here. He also had to get him and Jhan out of here. The creature’s
strength had caught him off guard. It would be harder to defeat the
man than Nazul had originally thought.

From the corner of his eye, Nazul saw Jhan take one of the guards

down. He used both knives in a primal dance of death, slicing the man
across the throat.

Now they had one guard and this hideous thing to contend with.

Nazul could see the puma and Bengal were taking care of the last
guard. For the first time in a very long time, Nazul wasn’t sure he
could defeat his opponent. At a glance, the thing looked pathetic,
weak. But that was far from the truth.

“Get them out of here,” he shouted at Jhan.
“And leave you to have all the fun?” Jhan asked. The Sentinel

spoke to the Bengal and then joined Nazul at his side, knives bared,
taking on a fighting stance.

The second guard went down and the three shifters turned toward

Nazul.

“Get them to safety!” Jhan yelled at the tiger.

Rakeym 87

“You stay, we stay,” the fox shifter said. “Fuck it, my mom is

already pissed that I’ve missed Sunday dinner. I might as well go
home with a hell of an excuse.”

Nazul wasn’t sure if the man had all his screws. The guy was

scrawny as hell and didn’t look like he could beat up a brown paper
bag. But Nazul admired the man’s warrior heart.

“You will all pay for what you’ve done here today,” the creature

said, his words coming out with a strange hiss before he escaped
down the hallway. Nazul wanted to give chase, to kill the nasty-
looking thing, but he knew his first priority was getting everyone to
safety.

If the puma hadn’t taken off, he could have shimmered them out

to begin with. Fucking cats.

“Let’s get them to Kelson,” Nazul said before he touched the

tiger’s fur and grabbed the nutty little fox. Jhan tried to grab the
puma, but the cat slammed against the door, letting in the rays of sun
before taking off.

Jhan shrugged. “Can’t save them all.”
Wasn’t that the damn truth.

* * * *

Rakeym turned on his side and wrapped his arms around the warm

wall of heat burrowed against him. It was strange waking up with
someone in his bed. He wasn’t sure he would ever get used to it. For
so long Rakeym had lived by the code of one-night stands—two
bodies simply sating a need. There was no cuddling or spending the
night.

But Kelson was changing that. The man was changing a lot of

things Rakeym had grown accustomed to. As he lifted his hand and
brushed his fingers over the brunet strands, Rakeym wondered if he
was ready for the new direction his life was taking. Since childhood,
he had operated with emotions such as hate, anger, revenge, and

Lynn Hagen

indifference. Except when it came to Meda, Nazul, and Jhan. But
even then, he only thawed enough to offer them patience and
tolerance.

Kelson sighed and began to turn. Rakeym held his arm up, waiting

for the man to settle back down before he pulled his mate close again.
But his arm lingered in the air as Rakeym felt his entire world shift
from under him.

A strawberry patch that all Shadow elven women developed when

they conceived was forming around Kelson’s neck—the same
marking that he’d seen circling Ahm’s neck when the man mated with
Bryce Lakeland.

For the first time since his days training at the Temple, Rakeym

felt panic tightening his chest. He became dizzy as his throat closed
up. He slipped from the bed, careful not to disturb Kelson, and
dressed quickly. Rakeym damn near flew from the room, having to
use the wall in the hallway to steady himself.

How the hell had this happened?
Knees growing weak, Rakeym pressed his back into the wall,

gazing up at the ceiling as he fought to bring himself back under
control.

“Uncle Rakeym?” Meda appeared in the hallway, her dark brows

pulled into a frown. “Is there something wrong?”

That was a goddamn understatement. The hallway began to close

in on him and Rakeym couldn’t seem to pull enough oxygen into his
lungs. He started to sweat as he felt himself hyperventilating.

“Uncle Rakeym!” Meda ran to him, her eyes wide. “What’s

wrong?”

You’re a worthless animal that I should have killed at birth. You

don’t deserve to breathe the same air as the rest of us.

Rakeym pressed the palms of his hands into his temples, trying to

shut out his mother’s voice. How the fuck was he supposed to bring a
child into the world when all he’d ever been taught was a cruelty that
should have killed him?

Rakeym 89

He slid down the wall and wrapped his arms around his stomach,

rocking, feeling tears that hadn’t escaped since he was seven years old
streaking down his face.

“Please,” Meda begged as she dropped to her knees, tears

glistening in her blue eyes. “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“I—” The lump in Rakeym’s throat began to burn, constricting,

stopping him from speaking. He pushed to his feet, turned, and
slammed his fist into the wall so hard that his hand went through not
only the paneling, but the Sheetrock as well.

Meda openly sobbed as she began to back away. But Rakeym

couldn’t stop the raging sea of hatred that was churning inside of him.
“Why the fuck didn’t you teach me love, teach me how to love!” he
shouted at the top of his lungs, feeling the pain that he’d kept buried
for centuries break free to mingle with a fury that threatened his very
sanity. “Why!”

He slammed his fist into the wall again and again.
“Rakeym!” Meda screamed as Talon raced down the hallway,

skidding to a stop before he grabbed Meda and tried to pull her away,
but she fought to get free, to get to Rakeym.

Rakeym was lost. Too many long-suppressed feelings were

breaking free of the prison he’d vanquished them to. All he’d ever
wanted was someone to believe in him, to believe that he had
something beautiful to offer. But that hope had been extinguished,
beaten out of him.

Worthless.
Mutant.
Pathetic.
Rakeym threw his head back as an animalistic sound tore from his

chest, his very soul shattering. He was coming undone, unraveling
after ages of careful restraint.

“Rakeym!”
Lowering his head, Rakeym turned to look at Kelson, his eyes

zeroing in on the strawberry patch. The gut-deep anger rose up high

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and then vanished as if it had been exorcised right out of him—
leaving behind an empty husk. Rakeym took a step toward his mate
and then stopped. “I’m so sorry I did this to you. Please, forgive me.”

Kelson’s head moved back and forth in slow motion, his eyes

guarded. “Tell me what happened, Rakeym.”

He couldn’t form the words. They died in his throat as images of

his mother, his trainer, and the students who’d punished him for being
different clouded his vision. He was the leader of a tribe who hated
him and wished him dead.

Spinning on his heel, Rakeym fled his home and then shimmered

away.

* * * *

Kelson didn’t understand what had just happened. He stood in the

hallway, gazing at Meda who was still crying. Talon had taken off
toward the front entrance, leaving Kelson grasping at what to do.

He couldn’t take seeing Meda cry. It was breaking Kelson’s heart.

He pulled her into his arms, trying his best to soothe her. “Tell me
from the beginning.”

She shook her head, wiping at her eyes. “I don’t know what

happened. I came over to check on you when I found him staring at
the ceiling. He wasn’t acting like himself. Then he burst into a rage
like I’ve never seen before.”

Something had to have set the man off. “Was his mother here?”
Meda shook her head. “No one was in the hallway but Rakeym.”
It didn’t make any sense to Kelson. He was still wondering what

Rakeym had meant when he apologized and asked for forgiveness.
The man hadn’t done anything wrong. Not since he’d forced the
collar on Kelson. But his gut told him that wasn’t the reason.

They’d made love last night and Kelson had felt like he was

finally getting through to his mate. Since then, the only thing they had

Rakeym 91

done was sleep. Kelson’s head snapped around when Meda gasped.
“What?”

Her blue eyes were wide as she stared at his neck. Kelson felt heat

stealing over his skin, wondering if Rakeym had gotten carried away
last night and left some sort of love bite on him. Not that he would
have minded. The man was an extraordinary lover and he could do
whatever the hell he wanted with Kelson’s body.

Meda grazed her fingers over Kelson’s neck, starting below the

ear. “Oh my.”

Kelson batted her hand away. As embarrassed as Kelson was that

Rakeym had left his mark on him, at least she was no longer staring at
the scars on his face. “It’s nothing.”

Her eyes flickered up to his. “Nothing? How can you say that? It’s

everything.”

The girl was obviously more naïve than Kelson had originally

thought if her idea of everything was a sucker bite. He wasn’t sure
why, but knowing she lacked experience only endeared her to Kelson,
making him want to protect her. “Didn’t you come over here to cook
breakfast?”

Where the hell did Rakeym run off to?
“How can you take this so lightly?” she asked.
Kelson started to tell her to forget his bite when Nazul came down

the hallway, Jhan and two other men in tow. His eyes widened when
he spotted Chatty Charlie.

“Coco!”
He had seconds to brace himself before Duncan wrapped himself

around Kelson and gave him a hug. It hadn’t slipped his notice how
much thinner the fox shifter had become.

“I thought you left us.”
Kelson glanced at Nazul, pleading with his eyes for help. Nazul

just stood there, grinning.

Bastard.

Lynn Hagen

Meda glanced at Nazul and then pointed at Kelson. “He’s wearing

the circle of conception.”

The what?
Nazul moved Duncan aside and lifted the hair from Kelson’s

neck, examining him, his dark-blue eyes intense. Although Kelson
knew Nazul had a wicked sense of humor, the man’s sober gaze was
disconcerting.

“Where is Rakeym?” Nazul asked.
Meda stood there and explained what’d happened in the hallway.

She revealed some things she hadn’t told Kelson. His heart broke
when she told of how Rakeym cried, shouting at the wall about being
loved and having something beautiful to offer. Kelson felt tears well
up in his eyes, his throat becoming tight.

A strange expression passed over Nazul’s face before he nodded

and spun on his heel.

“Wait!” Kelson grabbed the Shadow elf’s arm. “Do you know

where he went?”

Nazul glanced over his shoulder at Jhan. “Guard Kelson with your

life.”

Kelson wasn’t too sure about that. Jhan was the one who had

locked him in that damn safe room. He took a step back, ready to bolt
if the guy came anywhere near him. There was no way he was
reliving that kind of nightmare.

Jhan didn’t say a word. He slammed his right fist over his heart

and bowed his head slightly.

“If you even think of locking me away,” Kelson said as he bared

his teeth. “I’ll kick your balls so far up into your stomach that—”

“A misunderstanding,” Jhan said, cutting Kelson’s threat short.

“And my apologies for the incident.”

Incident? Kelson decided to let the subject drop. The man said he

was sorry, and to be honest, Kelson was more worried about finding
his mate. He turned to Meda. “What is a circle of conception?”

Rakeym 93

Meda tapped her finger on his neck. “The strawberry patch

growing around your neck,” she replied. “You are with child,
Kelson.”

Kelson’s eyes rolled to the back of his head before he passed out.

* * * *

Jhan eased toward the front door, listening as Talon argued with

Fayette—Rakeym’s mother.

“I don’t give a shit who you are,” Talon said, his tone lethal. “No

one is getting in here without Rakeym’s express permission.”

“Step aside or I’ll crush your fucking balls,” Fayette threatened.

Jhan had to hand it to Talon. The man didn’t even wince. He stood
ramrod straight, staring the woman in her eyes. Not many went up
against Rakeym’s mother. She was a brutal and cutthroat bitch.

As Jhan got a better look out of the privacy glass on either side of

the door, he saw that Fayette wasn’t alone. Not only did she have
Lence with her, but six other tribe members, all of whom seemed set
on getting past Talon.

Jhan pulled his cell phone free. It was true that the Shadow elves

lived off the land, creatures of Mother Nature, but they were also vain
and enjoyed some of the conveniences that modern society had to
offer. The Wood elves refused to conform, but the Shadow elves had
no damn problem living comfortably.

“Malavito.”
“It’s Jhan. I want you to grab two Sentinels and haul ass to

Rakeym’s home.”

“Trouble?” the Sentinel asked.
“Possibly. Fayette and Lence are here, a handful of residents as

well.”

Malavito groaned. “Why can’t that woman find a hobby, like

becoming a chloroform tester?”

Lynn Hagen

Despite the severity of the situation, Jhan chuckled. “Yeah,

wouldn’t object to her pursuing that occupation. I can see someone
holding a rag out to her and asking her if it smells like chloroform.”

“Don’t get me started on her rotten ass. I’ll be there in five. Are

you sticking around or stashing Rakeym’s mate?”

Jhan grew still. No one had told the other Sentinels that Kelson

was anything more than a pet to Rakeym. Only Nazul and Jhan knew
the truth. He began to wonder if maybe Talon had overheard things as
he’d guarded the door.

“Okay, I see I wasn’t supposed to know,” Malavito said. “So

forget I said anything. I’m on my way.”

Jhan knew the Sentinels lived by a code. They would never betray

their tribe leader, especially not Rakeym. Although no one said
anything to the feared leader, the Sentinels revered him and would lay
down their lives to protect not only Rakeym, but his mate as well.

Too bad Rakeym would never let anyone get close enough to find

out how many people actually did like him.

“What’s going on?” Meda asked as she stepped into the foyer,

glancing around Jhan.

“I want to bring Kelson and those two shifters into your uncle’s

office.”

Judging by the wide-eyed expression, Meda knew what that

meant. Jhan wasted no time going into the room where Rakeym kept
his weapons, grabbing extra bows. He also shoved a few extra knives
into his waistband before meeting the others.

“What’s going on?” Kelson asked, his complexion still a bit green

from his earlier fainting. Jhan knew what he was about to say was
going to throw the man into a panic attack, but they had no choice.
From the sounds outside, the mob was growing angrier.

His first priority was keeping Kelson safe.
Instead of answering, Jhan moved over to the bookshelf on the far

wall and slid his hand under the bottom shelf, pressing the release
button. A snick sounded. He stood, pulling the shelf aside. This was

Rakeym 95

the only bookcase Rakeym hadn’t damaged when he’d torn his office
apart. One of the reasons was because it was bolted to a steel door and
couldn’t be knocked over.

Kelson turned from green to a pasty white as he began to back

away, visibly trembling. “I’m not going in there.”

“Oh, hell no!” Duncan moved back so fast that he slammed into

Rakeym’s desk. “No, no, no. I won’t go in there. I can’t be locked up
again. Please, please don’t make me,” he begged, tears welling up and
spilling over. “I promise I won’t cause any trouble. Please, Jhan,
please.”

Jhan crossed the room, kneeling in front of Duncan to appear less

threatening. At six four, he towered over the man when standing. “It
is merely a tunnel, little fox. I give you my word as an honorable man
that there are no cages, no locks to trap you.”

Duncan wouldn’t stop shaking as he continued to cry. “I can’t.”

His voice cracked.

“Shhh.” Jhan wiped the tears with the pad of his thumbs before

giving Duncan a long, sharp blade. “If anyone tries to imprison you,
slice their throat.”

Duncan shook his head. “I can’t kill anyone.”
Jhan was at a loss of what to do. He could hear Meda and the tiger

trying to convince Kelson that they had to flee. But Kelson was giving
them just as much resistance.

Jhan jerked around when he heard a loud crash.
“Run, Jhan!” Talon shouted from somewhere in the house.
With no choice, Jhan scooped Duncan up into his arms and

hurried across the room. The tiger did the same with Kelson. Both
men screamed at the top of their lungs and Jhan felt like the worst
kind of monster for making them relive nightmares he could only
guess at.

The steel door locked into place and the lights flickered on.

Duncan was sobbing and Kelson was clawing at the tiger’s back.

Lynn Hagen

“Keep moving,” Jhan ordered Meda and the tiger. They descended

the stone stairs that led to the concrete passages that ran under the
village. This was only the second time he’d been down here and Jhan
wracked his brain, trying to remember which tunnel led under his
home.

He wasn’t sure if his place was any safer, but it was currently

mob-free.

“I’ll be good. I’ll be good,” Duncan kept chanting under his breath

as Jhan carried him further downward.

“You’re safe,” Jhan promised. “I swear that I’ll kill anyone who

tries to harm you.” He meant it. There was no way he was going to
allow anything to happen to his A’maelamin. He wasn’t sure why
Duncan hadn’t mentioned their connection, but the little fox seemed
oblivious.

“Rakeym!” Kelson was still fighting the tiger to get free.

“Rakeym!” He looked over at Jhan as his face contorted into a mask
of rage. “You promised!”

Jhan knew that nothing he said would console Kelson, so he kept

quiet as the five of them wandered the passages.

Rakeym 97

Chapter Nine

Nazul shimmered in to the scent of earth and freshwater lake. The

breeze slipped through the trees, creating a light, melodic sound. He
knew he would find Rakeym here. This was a place both men had
often ventured to when training became too much, the world became
too confusing, or just to simply appreciate the beauty.

Rakeym was leaning against a log, gazing off over the water.

Nazul stretched out next to the man he considered a close friend—
even if Rakeym kept him at arm’s length. “Do you remember the first
time we met?”

Rakeym’s head dipped slightly. “You had just come out of your

training and thought I was the perfect person to test your skills on.”

It felt like a lifetime ago. He’d been full of fire and stupidity back

then. A honed warrior, but not a lick of sense to him.

Just like Talon now.
“I was young.”
“You had a chip on your shoulder, pent-up aggression, and you

were looking for a victim,” Rakeym stated.

That’s what Nazul loved most about his leader. Rakeym never

cushioned his words. “And you were just as angry and aggressive.”

The two fell silent. Nazul turned to his back, tucking his hands

behind his head, gazing up as the clouds drifted past. He knew
Rakeym wasn’t going to open up to him about what was going on.
The man was too closed off, too hard to reach. Nazul had tried over
the course of their friendship to get past the man’s defensive wall. But
Rakeym had never lowered his guard, not once.

“What are you going to do about your mate and unborn child?”

Lynn Hagen

Rakeym turned his head a fraction of an inch, enough to gaze

down at Nazul. “Try digging into my mind and all the shrinks in the
world won’t be able to cure you.”

Nazul grinned. “That’s cool. I was never sane to begin with.”
Rakeym looked away. “Leave it be, Nazul.”
If only he could. Nazul knew that if he didn’t try to talk some

sense into Rakeym, his friend would destroy his relationship with
Kelson. Nazul could see how much Kelson loved Rakeym. And
Rakeym cared for Kelson. Whenever the two were near each other,
the chemistry was palpable and there was an electrical current in the
air.

The man had a shot at something special and Nazul wasn’t about

to let Rakeym throw that away. The guy deserved some damn
happiness for once in his lonely life.

“Are you afraid your mother, the council, or the tribe would hurt

Kelson and the babe?”

The tension in Rakeym’s jaw intensified, his eyes narrowing. “I

would kill anyone who tried.”

That was a start.
“You’re hurting them, so should I kill you?” Nazul was still

stretched out, gazing up at the sky, but every muscle in him tensed.
He knew he was treading on thin ice.

What the hell. Who wants to live forever?
“Be very careful of your words, Nazul. My patience is not infinite

nor is my friendship if you keep this up.”

Nazul scoffed. “Friendship? Is that what we have?” He stared up

at Rakeym. “You could have fooled me with your aloofness.”

A low rumble started in Rakeym’s chest and Nazul tried to

remember whether he had filed his last will and testament with the
council. Maybe his beneficiary and killer shouldn’t be the same
person.

Rakeym 99

“I mean, if I found out that my mate was carrying my child, shit. I

wouldn’t be sitting here contemplating the universe. I’d have him in
bed, trying to fuck any and every orifice I could get my dick into.”

The tension was so thick that Nazul could have reached out and

caressed it.

“If I had known that throwaway mates existed, I would have had a

few by now. I’m not quite sure of the rules though. If you kick Kelson
to the curb, am I allowed to—”

Rakeym leapt, cutting off any other stupid things Nazul might

have said. The man wrapped his hands around Nazul’s throat, choking
him. “I’ll fucking kill you if you ever go near my mate.”

The demonic expression on Rakeym’s face told of just how much

he loved Kelson. It also told of how much Nazul was screwed if he
couldn’t calm the man down.

Using the skills he’d honed over the course of his life, Nazul

broke the contact, pulling in a ragged breath before scissoring his legs
and yanking Rakeym clear. The man landed on his back, but didn’t
stay down. He was on his feet, circling Nazul in no time. But Nazul
hadn’t stayed down either. He was crouched and ready to strike if
Rakeym came at him.

“Why are you so pissed, Rakeym?” Nazul taunted. “It’s not like

you want him anyway. As soon as you found out you had knocked
him up, you ran.” Nazul took in a breath and prayed…just prayed.
“Pussy.”

There was only one surefire way to get Rakeym to bring his walls

down, and that was through anger. Nazul was trying desperately to
reach the man, and if he had to take this route, so be it. Hell if he was
going to watch a potentially beautiful mating fall to the wayside.

With a savage growl, Rakeym slammed into Nazul, lifted him into

the air, and tossed Nazul over his head. Nazul landed on his back and
the air was knocked out of his lungs.

“You have no idea why I ran!” Rakeym shouted at him. “You’re

just like everyone else. I should have never trusted you.”

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Lynn Hagen

“Trusted me?” Nazul asked as he rolled and then crouched.

“When the fuck did you trust me? As a Sentinel? Sure. But what
about as your friend? Both of our lives have been one long train
wreck, Rakeym. My mother is no better than yours. You have a shot
at happiness and you’re pissing it away over people you don’t even
give a fuck about.”

“I care!” Rakeym moved away, but Nazul wasn’t letting his guard

down. Rakeym was a wild, feral animal right now and unpredictable
as hell.

“That’s the fucking problem,” Rakeym continued. “I care too

damn much. Even after the way my mother raised me and the tribe
shit on me, I care what happens to them, to us!”

“That’s all well and good,” Nazul said. “But the one person you

should care about the most is the one you shut out. I’m not saying go
home and cry like a woman to him about your woeful life. All I’m
saying is let the damn man in.”

Rakeym spun and walked toward the lake. Nazul wasn’t sure what

to do when his leader began ranting and raving to the water, his arms
moving animatedly around. Never had he seen Rakeym anything but
cool and composed. The guy had bouts of rage, but not once had he
lost control.

Finding out Kelson was with child must have opened a floodgate

inside Rakeym. The man was finally releasing some of the poison that
festered inside of him. Nazul just hoped Rakeym left the gateway to
his emotions partially open for Kelson.

Nazul’s eyes widened when Rakeym shoved a finger toward the

lake and growled. Maybe purging some of that crap had cracked
something in Rakeym’s brain.

“I think you need therapy,” Nazul said. “You’re finally losing it.”
Spinning on his heel, Rakeym marched toward him, growled, and

then turned around, heading back toward the lake. Nazul wasn’t quite
sure what to make of this newly discovered side of Rakeym.

Rakeym 101

Rakeym glared at him. “Why in the fuck are you doing this to

me?”

Nazul didn’t hold back a chuckle. It was good to finally see

Rakeym ruffled, his walls crumbling. “Even a blind squirrel deserves
a nut once in a while. Call it my mating gift to you.”

“You’re giving me the gift of insanity?”
Nazul shrugged. “Don’t say I never gave you anything. But no,

I’m giving you the gift of logic. You love Kelson, even if you don’t
know what that emotion feels like.”

“Twisted bastard,” Rakeym said with a snarl.
And Nazul’s heart bled for this man who had never known love.

Right now, Rakeym looked like a small child, uncertain, scared. He
still wore a deep scowl, but his eyes couldn’t hide those vulnerable
emotions.

“If you give your heart to Kelson, I can promise you that he will

treasure it forever.” Sadness crept inside Nazul. Dealing with all of
this, with helping Rakeym to realize what he had, only reminded
Nazul that he would be going home to no one.

Rakeym cocked his head, a strange look filling his face. Nazul

went on alert, listening to the forest around them. He didn’t hear any
approaching enemies.

“Kelson,” Rakeym whispered before he shimmered away.

* * * *

Kelson gazed around the room he and the others were in. Jhan had

gotten turned around and couldn’t figure out the way to his home, so
the elf decided it best for them to remain down in these creepy
tunnels.

Judging by the intricate scrollwork on the walls, they had once

been used for something more than just passageways. Kelson couldn’t
read elvish, but the symbols were beautiful. The cobwebs and dust

102

Lynn Hagen

attested to the fact that the rooms down below hadn’t been used in
forever.

Duncan was still wrapped up in a ball in the corner and Jhan was

trying to soothe the fox shifter. Kelson was handling their situation,
barely. He could still feel the walls closing in on him, but Kelson kept
his mind occupied by gazing at the depictions on the walls.

Unfortunately, that left him time to think. He replayed what had

happened in the hallway with Rakeym over and over in his mind. The
conclusion he kept arriving at was that Rakeym didn’t want the baby.

Kelson was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he

was pregnant, but he believed Meda. And from Rakeym’s strong
reaction, the strawberry patch meant exactly what they said it meant.

Rakeym hadn’t wanted Kelson from the beginning. The man had

left him in Meda’s care for two days before he’d even come to see his
mate. The Shadow elf leader was distant and quiet, except when he
was barking out commands or making love to Kelson.

“The elders had to have done this,” Meda said as she walked up

beside him. “Not even I can understand what it says.”

“So the symbols are words?” Kelson ran his hand over the stone

wall, his fingers tracing the art. The long elegant lines and crafted
loops fascinated him for some reason.

She nodded. “The elders had a language of their own, from what

I’ve been taught by my tyelka.”

Kelson shook his head. “I don’t know what that means.”
She smiled. “Tyelka means mother.”
“Rakeym keeps calling me his A’maelamin. I never asked him

what it meant.”

Meda slid her hand over his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

“He’s calling you his beloved.”

“Do you have a word for mate?” Kelson asked.
“No, but A’maelamin is almost the same thing. We don’t use the

word lightly. For Shadow elves, it’s a very powerful endearment,
reserved for people we treasure more than our own life. Melamin,

Rakeym 103

which means my love, is more commonly used for close friends and
family.”

That didn’t make any sense to Kelson. Why would Rakeym use

such a sacred word if the man acted like he wanted Kelson gone?
When Rakeym saw the mark on Kelson’s neck, the guy had looked as
if he were disgusted. That look had shattered Kelson when he found
out why Rakeym was acting like a lunatic.

“He’s been closed off for so long, Kelson. Rakeym—”
Kelson held up his hand. He couldn’t bear to hear her give

excuses for her uncle. Not now. Not after the way Rakeym had fled
and left him to deal with all of this on his own. Kelson was freaking
out as well, but he was trying his best to deal with the fact that he was
knocked up.

Rakeym had run as if the thought of creating a child with Kelson

was repulsive. After all, hadn’t Rakeym called Kelson his pet? Kelson
didn’t have anything else to go on. Rakeym wouldn’t open up to him,
so Kelson knew absolutely nothing about the man.

God, he was seven kinds of confused.
Kelson stiffened when he heard a noise in the distance. The tiger

shifter’s head snapped to the entrance, and Jhan rose to his feet,
pulling his sword free.

Meda yanked on Kelson’s arm, pulling him toward Duncan. They

squatted down by the fox shifter, Meda pulling Duncan into her arms.
Kelson’s heart was beating so hard that he was getting an instant
migraine from the stress of waiting to see who was coming.

The tiger planted his back against the wall by the entrance. Jhan

did the same on the opposite side. There was a large stone slab in the
center of the room that helped keep him, Meda, and Duncan hidden
from view.

Kelson felt weak in the knees when Rakeym and Nazul appeared

in the entrance. He wanted to run to his mate, to be held and assured
that everything would be fine. But even after Kelson stood, Rakeym
paid him no attention.

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“The house is clear,” Rakeym said to Jhan. “Talon and the other

Sentinels cleared the mob and secured the place.”

Jhan nodded before he crossed the room and pulled Duncan into

his arms, carrying the man away. Meda and the tiger hurried behind
Nazul. Kelson wasn’t sure what to say to his mate. Rakeym stood
there, waiting, but said nothing.

Fuck it. If Rakeym wanted to be an ass about this, then Kelson

wanted to leave. There was no way he was going to raise a child in a
cold and unloving home. He wasn’t sure where he’d go, but he knew
that if he asked, Maverick Brac would help him. Everyone knew the
timber wolf alpha had a soft spot for those in need.

Kelson was jobless and pregnant. How much needier could he

get?

Kelson felt overwhelmed as he left the room and headed down the

passageway. A large part of him prayed that Rakeym said something,
anything. But the guy said nothing.

Once he and Rakeym cleared the hidden doorway and were

standing in the man’s office, Kelson spun. “I want you to take me to
Maverick Brac.”

“Out of the question,” Rakeym replied as he closed and secured

the bookshelf. The man’s tone was aloof and Kelson was five seconds
away from screaming his frustration.

“Why? If I wasn’t here, it would make your life a lot easier. You

wouldn’t have a mob at your door.” And you wouldn’t have to worry
about a child you don’t want.

The way Rakeym was staring at Kelson made him wonder what

the man was thinking. Kelson couldn’t read the expression. The guy
was just…staring. He began to feel self-conscious, his fingers
touching the long scar on his face. “What?”

Rakeym’s fingers curled in and Kelson swore he saw some sort of

struggle on the guy’s face. “I don’t—” Rakeym’s jaw flexed. “I don’t
want you to go.”

Rakeym 105

“But you don’t want me to stay,” Kelson pointed out. “You’ve

never wanted me here, Rakeym. I’m nothing more than a burden to
you.”

“I never said that!”
“You didn’t have to!” Kelson reeled in his anger, telling himself

that shouting at one another wasn’t going to get them anywhere.
“Actions speak louder than words.”

“And sometimes those actions aren’t what they appear to be,”

Rakeym countered.

Frustrated and up to his ears in bullshit, Kelson slammed his

hands into Rakeym’s chest. He wanted to hurt Rakeym as much as the
man was hurting him with his silence and detachment. It wasn’t fair
that Kelson was falling in love with the man and Rakeym acted as if
Kelson were nothing more than his pet.

He was scared—no, terrified, alone, and felt as if his entire world

was upside down. “Why can’t you love me?” Kelson shouted,
pounding his fists into Rakeym’s solid chest. “Why are you so
fucking cold and heartless?”

Tears gathered in Kelson’s eyes and he hated himself for his

weakness. But the culmination of everything that he’d gone through,
was still going through, was coming to a head.

“How the hell can I love you when I don’t even know what love

is?”

Kelson stilled.
Rakeym’s eyes grew slightly wide.
The silence in the room was deafening. The expression on

Rakeym’s face told it all. He hadn’t meant to say that. “Do you care
about me, Rakeym?” Kelson asked, his voice shaky.

There was a battle brewing inside the leader. His eyes turned

darker. His jaw jerked from side to side. Kelson wasn’t going to give
the man an out. He wanted the truth. If Rakeym said no, then Kelson
knew he couldn’t stay.

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Although Kelson wanted to keep his distance, he closed the gap

between them and wrapped his arms around his mate, holding him
close. “Do you care about me?”

Rakeym’s hand pressed into Kelson’s back and Kelson could hear

how wildly his mate’s heart was beating. The silence stretched on.
Finally, Rakeym said in a low tone, “I care.”

Kelson pressed on. “Do you want the baby?”
Rakeym stiffened.
The thin sliver of hope that Kelson had begun to feel vanished. He

started to pull away, but Rakeym kept a firm hold on him. Kelson
didn’t struggle, didn’t demand to be released.

He waited with bated breath.

Rakeym 107

Chapter Ten

The words wouldn’t come easily to him. The emotions cascading

inside of him were turbulent as he fought to think of a way to explain
to Kelson how he felt.

It wasn’t easy considering Rakeym had never before spoken of his

inner turmoil. He kept it locked away and hidden from everyone—
although his mother let everyone know her views on her son.

Rakeym felt elation at the thought of sharing a child with Kelson,

but the fear of how fucked he was mentally kept rearing its ugly head.
“I don’t think I would make a good father.”

Kelson tilted his head back and Rakeym became lost in those

coppery eyes. He could see the trepidation in them, the hope, but most
of all, he could see determination. “And you think I know what to do
with a baby?” Kelson scoffed. “I’ve never held a baby in my life.”

“It’s not the same.” Rakeym growled the words.
“I know. I’ve met your mother.” Kelson shook his head. “I can

just imagine what your childhood was like.”

Rakeym released Kelson and moved over to the window. He

gazed out into the sunny afternoon, yet that sun couldn’t penetrate the
dark shadows of his soul. “You couldn’t begin to imagine what my
life has been like.”

“Then tell me.” Kelson joined him. “Tell me about you, Rakeym.

There is so much more to life than pain.”

What the hell was with everyone wanting to get into his head

lately? “The only thing life has to offer is pain. The degree of that
pain is a personal choice.”

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Kelson scrunched his nose. “You really are one morbid man. I

sure hope our child gets his outlook on life from me.”

Rakeym wasn’t sure how to respond. Pain, anger, bitterness, those

were things he knew well. But Kelson wasn’t arguing, shouting, or
trying to slap Rakeym. The man was using humor, something
Rakeym knew nothing about. “Why don’t you hate me?”

“Why should I?” Kelson asked. “It takes two to make a baby, and

judging by your stellar reaction, you weren’t even aware I could
become pregnant.”

The man made absolutely no sense to Rakeym. “I’m a mutant,

Kelson. The chances of our child inheriting my abomination are
high.”

“Just as long as he or she doesn’t inherit my brother’s annoying

laugh, I’m good with our child having your amazing eye color.”

Amazing? Rakeym growled at Kelson’s absurdity. “They are not

amazing. Among my people—”

“Sorry, but your people are idiots. I see the way they act when

someone is different or steps a toe out of line. I wouldn’t put too
much stock in what they deem acceptable.”

There didn’t seem to be any way to convince Kelson that he was

wrong. Kelson had strange ideas about how the world worked.
Rakeym had always felt that shifters were bizarre creatures, and now
he had proof.

“I don’t care about your past, what people think of you, or why

the sky is blue, Rakeym. All I care about is our relationship, or
building one with you. To me, you’re perfect.” Kelson twisted his lips
to the side. “On second thought, you need to work on polishing your
communication skills. They suck.”

“Just last week you were complaining about being a monster,”

Rakeym reminded Kelson. He didn’t like being in the spotlight.
Rakeym didn’t want his faults pointed out nor did he want to discuss
his feelings. He wasn’t a damn female.

Rakeym 109

“And you told me they were battle wounds,” Kelson shot back. “I

had to work through what they did to me. It’s not going to happen
overnight, but I’m trying. Are you?”

Kelson curled his fingers over Rakeym’s wrist. “I’m terrified,

Rakeym. I have no clue what I’m going to do or how to raise a child.
But there’s one thing I know, and that is that I can’t do this alone.”

Rakeym traced his fingers over the growing patch around

Kelson’s neck. He wanted something real with Kelson. Rakeym was
tired of his lonely existence. What would it be like to share his life
with someone he truly cared about? What would it be like to raise a
child? Could he raise a child and not inflict the same emotional
damage that his mother had? “What if I’m just like her?”

“For one, you have me,” Kelson said as he pressed his cheek into

Rakeym’s hand. “I won’t let you crawl back into your shell.”

“And two?”
“I’ll put my foot up your ass if you even think about acting like a

lunatic.”

Rakeym threw his head back and laughed, surprising the shit out

of himself. His eyes grew wide as he glanced at Kelson.

His mate was grinning from ear to ear. “Do you know how

beautiful that sounded?”

For the first time in his life, Rakeym felt himself blush.
“Baby steps,” Kelson said. “I’m not expecting you to instantly

change your ways, but letting me in is a start.”

“I don’t know how,” Rakeym admitted, using the tips of his nails

to gently scrape over Kelson’s cheek.

“Will you let me show you?”
Everything in Rakeym rejected the idea of letting someone in. He

was used to being closed off. He was used to being feared. He was
used to…hating. Rakeym wanted to love for once and to know what it
felt like to be loved. “Yes.”

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A wobbly smile appeared on Kelson’s face and his eyes shined

with unshed tears. Please don’t let the man cry. Rakeym wouldn’t
know what to do if Kelson let those tears fall.

“Now we just need to find out how in the hell I got knocked up,”

Kelson said.

“I think I can answer that.”
Rakeym turned to see the Mage standing in the doorway of his

office. What was she doing here? It unnerved him that she had snuck
up on him. He was going to have a long talk with Talon about his
inability to guard one damn door.

The Mage moved into the room, her eyes falling to the patch on

Kelson’s neck. “You are well aware of the fact that our race used to
be asexual?”

Rakeym nodded, watching the woman cautiously. She was a

powerful being and he didn’t fully trust her. Venturia had been with
the tribe for as long as Rakeym could remember, but no one knew too
much about her.

“The salve I used on your mate,” she said as she stopped by his

desk. “It had a hormone that I mixed in.”

“You what?” Kelson nearly shouted the words.
“Explain yourself,” Rakeym demanded. He didn’t like the fact

that the Mage had done this without his knowledge.

“I am merely unlocking that which was locked.” She was

unrepentant. “The Shadow elves weren’t meant to die out, Rakeym.
Your numbers are diminishing. You of all people should know this.
The inbreeding is killing your race.”

Rakeym was well aware of their dilemma. Ahm was still trying to

find a solution to the mortality rate among the newborns. But it was
hard going against a stonewalled society. Since the ancient books
dictated that the Shadow elves live this way, everyone accepted the
decree as law. No one stopped to question the morality or damaging
effect inbreeding had among their species. They were sheep,
thoughtlessly following the dictate of ancient laws.

Rakeym 111

They were blinded by their beliefs and oblivious of the

slaughtering ahead. And it would be a slaughtering if they didn’t
change their ways.

“But Kelson is a coyote shifter,” Rakeym said. “Even if you found

a way to unlock our old way of breeding, how can you change his
genetics?”

A smile curved her full lips. “Simple manipulation.”
“You could have told me!” Kelson was now shouting. “How

would you like it if I snuck into your home and stole your birth
control?”

Rakeym raised a brow.
Kelson shrugged. “It was all I could come up with.”
The Mage moved toward the office door. “What has been done

cannot be undone.”

Rakeym was starting to wonder if she was related to the keeper of

the underworld.

“Bitch,” Kelson huffed.
She laughed before walking out.
Rakeym moved in behind Kelson, reached around, and placed his

hand under his mate’s jaw. “Such language.”

“She can bite the hairy one for what she did.” But Kelson didn’t

pull away. He leaned his back into Rakeym’s chest as if it were the
most natural thing to do. Rakeym hesitated before wrapping his arm
around Kelson’s shoulders.

“I want the baby,” Rakeym admitted into the quietness of the

room. “I want you.”

“As long as I know that, we can work everything else out.”

Kelson turned, leaned up, and cupped Rakeym’s face. “I’m still
scared, though.”

And Rakeym knew he would do whatever it took to protect

Kelson. He wasn’t good with words, but he could show Kelson how
he felt through his actions.

“I want you, A’maelamin.”

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Rakeym’s heart thundered in his chest to hear Kelson call him by

that endearment. No one had ever used it on him before. He had never
been anyone’s beloved.

Lowering his head, Rakeym brushed his lips over Kelson’s,

inhaling the sweet fragrance of his coyote shifter. “Amin raane e’a
olos.”

“What does that mean?” Kelson demanded against Rakeym’s

mouth.

Rakeym wasn’t brave enough to give Kelson the translation. The

man would be appalled at Rakeym’s poor attempt at poetry.

Instead, Rakeym pressed his lips to Kelson’s, swiping his tongue

inside. Kelson groaned, pulling at Rakeym’s shoulders. When the
coyote shifter pulled back, Rakeym felt dazed.

Kelson gave him a wicked grin before he dropped to his knees and

unfastened Rakeym’s pants. He stood there watching, amazed as
Kelson pulled Rakeym’s cock free and swallowed his shaft.

Rakeym hissed as he threw his head back, his legs unsteady.

White-hot lightning shot through him as Kelson licked and lapped,
tracing the veins in Rakeym’s cock with his tongue.

He guided his fingers through Kelson’s hair, careful of his razor-

sharp nails. What Kelson was doing to him had Rakeym on the edge
already. He fought not to thrust his hips, to let Kelson explore him at
his own pace, but he was quickly losing that battle. His hips jerked an
inch, his balls growing tighter.

“A’maelamin,” Rakeym groaned. “You fight dirty.”
Kelson leaned back and winked at Rakeym. “I’m playing for

keeps.”

Rakeym felt as if he were breaking apart. How could one man

have come to mean so much to him? Time seemed to stand still as
Kelson took Rakeym back into his mouth. He wondered if he could
trust Kelson when the man said he was perfect. Was it a lie,
something said to soothe Rakeym out of his anger?

Rakeym 113

He wanted to trust his mate, but trust was something he’d never

given before. Not like this. But every touch Kelson gave him
screamed with passion and possessiveness. The way he was sucking
Rakeym’s cock was…fuck. Rakeym growled to himself when he
couldn’t find the right words.

Kelson gazed up at him and Rakeym forgot how to think. Those

coppery eyes were magnetic, enthralling. He brushed the back of his
knuckles over Kelson’s throat, moaning at the way the muscles
worked under his hand.

An electrical storm worked its way up Rakeym’s spine. His

muscles tensed, and his body jerked when his cock exploded. He
shouted as he came down Kelson’s throat. In the blink of an eye,
Rakeym had Kelson up and spun around, pressing his mate’s back
into his chest. Rakeym released Kelson’s hard cock and stroked the
heated flesh until Kelson was crying out his own release.

His mate slumped against him. Rakeym pressed a kiss to Kelson’s

head. But as much as Rakeym liked feeling Kelson in his arms, they
needed to clean up. He pulled his mate to his bedroom and made
quick work of both their flaccid cocks.

Rakeym yawned, climbing into bed behind Kelson. He curled

around his mate, glad that nothing had happened to the man. He knew
he had to do something about his mother. If left unchecked, she would
only get worse—especially when news reached the tribe that Kelson
was with child.

* * * *

“I’m not going down there,” Kelson protested. “Are you insane?”
“But I know I saw something,” Meda argued. “Don’t you want to

know why those writings were on the wall?”

“Not particularly.” The woman had lost her mind. She was trying

to convince Kelson to go back into the passageway. Once had been
enough. “There’s no way in hell you’re getting me to go back down

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there.” Kelson could already feel the walls closing in on him and he
was just standing in the office.

“You know,” Meda said. “They say the only way to get over a

fear is to face it.”

“Then I’m Velcroing my fear to me.”
Meda wrinkled her nose. “Don’t mention Velcro. Rakeym hates

the stuff. If you ask me, he’s actually afraid of it. The whole ripping
sound, you know?”

A devilish impulse hit Kelson. He wanted to go out and buy

anything with Velcro on it just to see if Rakeym—Nah, he wouldn’t
be that mean. But he stored that information away. It was just another
interesting layer to Rakeym that he’d discovered.

“Just think how proud Rakeym will be when he learns you’ve

conquered your fear.”

Kelson knew Meda was trying to use psychology on him. “The

only thing I’m conquering is a bowl of ice cream.” Kelson started for
the door when he heard Lence. That man was really starting to get on
Kelson’s nerves. His hand automatically went to his neck and Kelson
realized that he’d left the collar in his bedroom.

“There’s going to be hell to pay if he sees you without your

collar,” Meda whispered, as if Lence was in the room with them.

“Nice try,” he whispered back for some strange reason. “But

you’re not getting me into that tunnel.”

“Not even for a banana split?”
Kelson huffed. “I already know how to make one of those.”
“Fine, I’m going,” Meda said and then walked over to the

bookshelf, releasing the secret latch. “If I get lost and you never hear
from me again, then you’ll know why.”

Guilt. He couldn’t believe she was playing that card. Kelson stood

firm as he watched her slip into the open passage. He wasn’t going to
go. Not voluntarily. He froze when he heard something that sounded
like a person falling down steps. Without thinking, Kelson ran toward
the entrance and ducked inside.

Rakeym 115

Meda was standing right inside the entrance. She slammed the

bookcase closed, trapping Kelson inside. He spun, trying to find the
lever that would get him out of there, but he couldn’t open the door.
The musty smell clawed at him, sending Kelson into a rioting whirl.

“Calm down.” Meda hugged him as Kelson began to feel like he

couldn’t get enough oxygen into his lungs. It was bad enough that he
was inside here, but the air seemed so much thicker, so much staler.
“It’s just steps. You can do this, Kelson.”

“Let me the fuck out of here,” he said, growling the words at her.
“I know I’m dead wrong for doing this, but you’ll never get over

your fear if you don’t face it.” She grabbed Kelson’s hand and tugged.
“Just take small breaths and keep telling yourself that no one is going
to harm you. That you can get out of here after we’ve explored what’s
down there.”

“I hate you,” Kelson said between clenched teeth. His muscles

vibrated with tension.

“You don’t hate me.” Meda shook her head. “You hate the fear

that is rising inside of you. But you can’t let it control you. If you do,
whoever hurt you has won.”

“Don’t talk sense to me,” Kelson retorted. He swallowed as his

throat went dry. “I’m not listening right now.” Though he knew she
was right. Did he want to live the rest of his life afraid of enclosed
places? Was that a fear he wanted to pass on to his child? Kelson
gazed down the long passageway, his gut tying into knots.

“You can do it.” Meda whispered the encouragement as a breeze

whistled up toward them. “I know you can.”

“I’m glad someone has faith in me, because right now I’m scared

shitless.”

“I’m afraid of water,” Meda admitted as her blue eyes searched

his face. “If you help me explore the tunnels, I’ll let you teach me
how to swim.”

Kelson cocked his head. “Who said I can swim?”
“Just a hunch.”

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Kelson didn’t want to set foot down there. He’d managed last time

because he’d had no choice. Plus, there had been others there to
protect him. He highly doubted Meda could fight anything that might
roam these long-forgotten tunnels.

“Baby steps,” Meda said, grabbing his hand and tugging him

down the first couple of steps. That was the same thing he’d told
Rakeym. Kelson held his breath, his knees trembling as he allowed
her to slowly pull him deeper into the passageway. The farther away
from the exit he went, the more his heart slammed into his chest.

“You’re doing great,” she said. “Beautifully.”
Kelson wasn’t too sure about that. His insides felt like jelly. “Do

you remember which way we went last time?”

Meda tapped her temple. “Excellent memory.”
The last thing Kelson wanted to do was get lost down here. The

place looked like any sewer system would look, except it lacked pipes
and the floor was made of dirt. But the tunnels stretched out, webbing
in all directions. It was the slight breeze that creeped him out the
most. To him, it sounded like a ghost whistling a tune of dismay and
hardship. The musky odor intensified once they reached the end of the
steps.

“See, nothing to be afraid of,” Meda said.
Kelson followed when she turned right. He couldn’t believe he

was down here again. Every cell in his body screamed for Kelson to
turn back, to march up those stairs and pound on the door until
Rakeym found him.

“Rakeym wants the baby.” He wasn’t sure why he was telling her

this. He knew that his mate would be pissed if he knew Kelson was
blabbing about their private conversation. But his fear still had a tight
grip and Kelson was struggling to cope.

“I never doubted he would.” She turned her head and gave Kelson

a gentle smile. “Rakeym has issues I wouldn’t wish on my worst
enemy, but he has a heart of gold.”

Rakeym 117

Deep down, Kelson knew this. He had thought about leaving, had

feared Rakeym didn’t want him, but the truth was, his coyote had
known what kind of man Rakeym was.

“In here.” Meda made a right and Kelson found himself in the

room he’d been in yesterday. He could still envision Duncan
cowering in the corner, Jhan speaking quietly to the fox shifter.

“I saw this yesterday, but with everything going on, I didn’t have

time to investigate.” Meda walked over to the wall, brushing her hand
over the stone. Kelson did the same and noticed how cool the wall
felt.

His eyes widened when she pulled a small portion of the wall free,

reached in, and twisted her arm.

“Someone should teach you about putting your hand into strange

and potentially dangerous places,” Kelson said right before the wall
below her hand popped open. Kelson coughed when a spray of dust
scattered in the air.

“Oh, wow,” she said, pulling her hand free.
Kelson moved her aside. If there was some sort of trap, he didn’t

want Meda hurt. He didn’t want to be hurt either, but he knew he
couldn’t talk her out of seeing what was inside. He lowered himself to
his knees and worked the stone the rest of the way open. It took a lot
of elbow grease and some sweat, but Kelson pried the stone enough to
reach his hand inside.

Meda giggled. “I think we both need a lesson when it comes to

our hands.”

Kelson felt something hard and square. He pulled until he could

get a better grip, and then yanked the object free.

It was a book.
“Aw.” Meda pouted. “I was hoping it was some kind of lost

treasure.”

“It just might be.” Kelson took the book over to the stone slab and

set it down. He was afraid to open it because it looked old as hell.
What if it fell apart?

Rakeym 119

Chapter Eleven

Kelson glanced at Meda as Lence marched them through the

tunnels. The man had a gun in his hand and was clutching the ancient
book like it was the second coming. He could see the fear in Meda’s
blue eyes and wished he could tell her that everything was going to be
okay, but he wasn’t sure it would be and couldn’t bring himself to lie
to her.

“I knew you would be trouble from the moment I laid eyes on

you.” Lence shoved the gun into Kelson’s back, pushing him along.
“Too bad Fayette proved worthless.”

Kelson had no idea what the man was talking about.
“What does my maytyelka have to do with this?” Meda asked.
“Your grandmother was supposed to kill Kelson. The only thing

she accomplished was giving him a damn lump on his head.” Lence
didn’t sound too happy. Kelson shouldn’t be stunned to learn of
Fayette’s treachery after the stories he’d heard, but he was. How
could a mother be so cruel to her very own son?

Kelson pressed a hand to his stomach, already feeling a bond with

the child he had yet to meet.

“Do you think I was foolish enough to fall for the whole pet

routine?” Lence asked as he guided them up a set of stone steps. “I
knew from the beginning that you were his mate. And now you bear
the circle of conception!”

Kelson could hear the loathing that laced Lence’s voice. The

Shadow elf hated Kelson with every breath he took. Was it because he
was an outsider, or because Rakeym was mated to a male? Probably
both. The guy sounded just like Kelson’s father.

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Lynn Hagen

As soon as he had found out that Kelson was gay, the bigotry and

snide comments had begun. Kelson should have seen the writing on
the wall when his father tossed him out. The animosity had been
building for some time.

It still hurt to think of a man who had loved Kelson his entire life

turning so easily against him. It made him wonder how genuine that
love had been in the first place.

“Inside.” Lence made Meda open a secret door leading into a

simple living room. It wasn’t overly decorated, the furniture sparse. If
Kelson had to use one word to describe the room, he would say it was
spartan.

Lence set the book aside as he waved the gun at Kelson. “Don’t

think about being a hero. I have no qualms about shooting you.” The
man narrowed his eyes. “As a matter of fact, I’m going to kill you
regardless of what you do.”

“For what?” Meda’s voice was shrill. “For being different? For

knowing how to selflessly love another?”

Lence curled his lip back. “Save it, child. Your words won’t move

me. Shifters are a nasty breed that should be wiped from the face of
the earth. They’re dirty, arrogant, and more than likely carry fleas.”

“Fuck you!” Kelson couldn’t help himself. He’d taken enough

crap from men who thought themselves superior. The guard that
tortured him had been the same way. Kelson wanted to bite the
bastard, but Lence still had the gun in his hand.

“I think you’re the one who’s fucked.” Lence opened a coffee

table that apparently doubled as storage. He pulled out duct tape and
tossed the roll to Meda. “Tie him up and don’t think about making it
loose. I’ll shoot you if you do.”

Meda turned to him, her eyes woeful. “I’m sorry for forcing you

down into the tunnels and for having to do this.”

Kelson wasn’t mad at her. She was young and scared. He knew

she was only tying him up because she feared for both of their lives.
“I’m not mad at you, Meda,” he said, and then he lowered his voice so

Rakeym 121

only she could hear him. “I want you to get that book and run as fast
as you can. Get it to Rakeym.”

Her eyes said she wouldn’t leave him and Kelson couldn’t have

that. Both of them tied up would be useless. Before she wound the
tape around his wrists, Kelson hissed, “Do it.”

He moved away from Meda and rushed Lence. He knew the man

had a gun, but judging by the confused expression in the elf’s eyes,
he’d taken the guy by surprise.

Kelson slammed into the Shadow elf. Lence was tall and lean and

it took all of Kelson’s strength to shove the guy into the wall. From
the corner of his eye, he could see Meda hauling ass with the book
clasped to her chest.

Lence snarled, shoving Kelson to the floor before taking off after

the girl. Kelson got to his feet as Lence walked back into the room, a
look of retribution cutting across his features. “You shouldn’t have
done that.”

The man didn’t look as lethal as Rakeym, but he was terrifying

nonetheless. His eyes blazed, promising plenty of pain. Kelson hadn’t
backed down from Rakeym and he wasn’t going to back down from
this man.

He would question the sanity of that thought later.
“Fuck you,” Kelson said. Lence was on him in seconds, his

fingers wrapped around Kelson’s throat, squeezing the life out of him.
Kelson prayed the man didn’t kill him, but wasn’t foolish enough to
believe the guy would let him go. Meda would be back with Rakeym
in moments and Lence’s expression said he was well aware of that
fact.

Kelson could feel the pressure building, the hard thumping at his

temples as his blood tried desperately to flow freely once more. Spots
danced in front of his eyes. With all the strength he could garner,
Kelson slammed his knee into the man’s groin.

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Lence released Kelson, his hands cupping himself as he snarled.

Kelson didn’t wait to see if the elf would recover. He took off toward
the door, but Lence was fast.

Kelson cried out when he was slammed against the wall. The

kerosene lamp that had been sitting on the side table fell to the floor,
setting the carpet ablaze. The flames licked along until they reached
the small sofa.

“You rotten dog,” Lence shouted. “If it weren’t for you, Rakeym

would already be dead.”

Lence spun and slammed Kelson into the wall again. Kelson hit

his head on some ornament that was jutting out. He felt pain explode
and blood start to pour from the wound. The sticky, wet mess trailed
down the side of his face, but Kelson was too busy trying to keep the
man’s hands from going back around his neck to worry about the
blood loss. The flames grew higher, as if everything in the living
room was flammable. Kelson didn’t know things could burn so damn
quickly. The fire ate its way up the curtains and started across the
bookshelves, quickly filling the room with smoke.

Kelson was desperate. He was coughing and trying to dodge

Lence’s hands. He groped the air behind him, never taking his eyes
off the lunatic. He wasn’t sure what his fingers curled around, but
Kelson lifted the object in the air and slammed it over Lence’s head.

The man crumbled. Kelson dropped the heavy knickknack,

backing away. His eyes watered and stung, making it almost
impossible for him to see. He stumbled toward the door, but his head
began to spin and drawing air into his lungs was getting harder and
harder to do.

Kelson thought for sure he was about to pass out, to die in this

inferno, when he felt strong arms wrap around him. He cried out,
thinking Lence had him again until he heard Rakeym’s voice. “Don’t
panic. I have you.”

Kelson slumped in the man’s arms, coughing as Rakeym carried

him through the house. Just before Rakeym reached the front door,

Rakeym 123

Kelson heard a loud crash coming from the living room and then the
flames reached their tentacles into the hallway.

If Rakeym had rescued him even a minute later, Kelson knew he

would be dead. When they finally emerged from the house, Kelson’s
coughing became worse. The wound on his head was throbbing
fiercely and Kelson was finding it hard to focus. His mate set him on
the ground, saying, “Shift, A’maelamin.”

Kelson shook his head. Everyone was gathering around them and

as much as he wanted to fight against this tribe’s old ways, seeing so
many elves around him scared Kelson.

Aside from the juveniles, there wasn’t one short person standing

there. They were all statuesque, intimidating, and staring at him with
a mixture of curiosity and loathing.

“Shift,” Rakeym growled. His mismatched eyes blazed with fury

at Kelson’s refusal.

“Your”—cough—“people.”
“Will not harm you,” Rakeym promised. His mate glanced at the

gathering onlookers as he continued to speak to Kelson. “If any one of
them says a hateful word or lifts a hand to strike you, I’ll gut them
where they stand.”

Meda raced toward Kelson, dropping to her knees. “You have to

shift, Kelson.” Her small hands wrapped around his, the worry
increasing in her blue eyes.

A round of rib-crushing coughs wracked Kelson and he didn’t

think he would be able to breathe through it. He knew they were right.
If he didn’t shift, his lungs might become permanently damaged.

Kelson relented and let the shift take over, instantly feeling his

airways clearing. God, he’d forgotten how good it felt to be in his
coyote form. The freedom he felt, the exhilaration was enough to
make him get to his feet and take off. He knew he shouldn’t leave
Rakeym and Meda like this, but feeling the wind in his fur as his paws
hit the ground was purely amazing.

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He raced through the village, into the woods, up a hill, and down

into a valley. Kelson ran like he’d never run before. When he began to
slow, Rakeym shimmered in front of him, a cautious expression in his
green and amber eyes.

If Kelson could have laughed, he would have. He dropped to his

back and rolled and then jumped to his feet, prancing and playing.
The reserved looked on Rakeym’s face melted as he began to laugh.
“You miss running?”

Kelson jumped at Rakeym, friskily nipping the man.
A spark of excitement entered Rakeym’s eyes and Kelson was

taken aback at the playful look on the man’s face. The hardship that
was continuously etched into Rakeym’s features faded away as his
eyebrows bounced. “Then we shall race.”

Kelson was too stunned to move when Rakeym took off. The

man’s behavior had taken him by surprise. But his mind finally
registered what his mate had said. Kelson growled as he tried to catch
up with Rakeym.

The man was freaking fast!

* * * *

In one shocking moment, Rakeym had realized just how much he

loved Kelson. Meda had raced to him, telling him about Lence. When
Rakeym had shown up and seen the fire, he thought his life was over.
There was no way in hell he could live without Kelson. Snatches of
images had flashed through his mind and Rakeym couldn’t breathe as
he tried to imagine what their unborn child would look like as he
searched the smoke-filled house. He’d never been so relieved in his
life when he found Kelson alive.

And now he was even more amazed at just how much fun he was

having. Kelson was breathing new life into Rakeym, making him feel
things he’d never felt before.

Joy.

Rakeym 125

Excitement.
And most of all…love.
The emotions were foreign to him, yet Rakeym was basking in

them. He was laughing, teasing, and wanting a lifetime with the
coyote. He skidded to a stop and then waited for Kelson to catch up to
him. The coyote was stunning. The last time Rakeym had seen this
form, Kelson had been too bloody for him to get an unobstructed look
at the creature. His fur was tan and white, soft looking, and Rakeym’s
fingers itched to run through the coat.

Kelson came to a stop, his head cocking to one side. A bubble of

laughter caught Rakeym off guard, but he allowed it to rumble from
his chest. The sound filled the air and Kelson began to bounce in
place.

“So slow, A’maelamin.”
Kelson growled, throwing his nose into the air as if he were highly

offended at the statement. Rakeym dropped to his knees, cupping the
coyote’s jaw. “You’ll just have to keep practicing. Maybe one day
you’ll beat—” Rakeym was knocked onto his ass when Kelson
jumped up and slammed his paws into his chest.

The coyote began to lick his face and Rakeym grabbed his

animal’s muzzle, chuckling as he tried to keep the creature’s tongue at
bay. Kelson shifted, laughing as he straddled Rakeym’s waist.

“You were racing against an injured coyote. How fair is that?”
If the man only knew how beautiful he looked perched on top of

Rakeym. The strawberry patch was growing, a thin line that was
creating a necklace. Rakeym ran his thumb over the mark, his heart
filling so completely that he feared it would burst.

He was determined not to make the same mistakes his mother had

made. Rakeym was going to do this right and show his offspring how
a parent should love their child. He had no clue how he was going to
do that, but letting the child know that he or she was wanted would be
a healthy start.

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“I—” Rakeym cleared his throat, feeling his face flame with

embarrassment. He’d never spoken the words before and found them
lodging in his throat.

Kelson’s smile never wavered as he placed the palms of his hands

on Rakeym’s chest, leaning in to whisper against his lips, “I know
you love me.”

That wasn’t good enough for Rakeym. He wanted to say the

words, not just show them. He fought his childhood demons, his years
of brutal training, and the ice that had slowly begun to melt from
around his heart.

It’s just three words. Say them.
Rakeym’s fingers curled around Kelson’s sides, giving his mate a

gentle squeeze. His heart was hammering at the vulnerability he felt
when with Kelson. After everything he’d been through in his life, this
was the most terrifying moment he’d ever experienced. He pulled
Kelson close, burying his face into his mate’s neck. “I love you.”

“Take me home, Rakeym, and make love to me,” Kelson

whispered into Rakeym’s ear. Rakeym shimmered them to his bed,
keeping Kelson straddled around his waist. Without prompting,
Kelson reached for the lube.

Rakeym stared into Kelson’s coppery eyes, fascinated that a

creature so small had managed to shatter the dense wall of
indifference Rakeym had placed around himself. The shifter made
Rakeym want to be a better man, a better parent than his mother, and
a true leader of his people.

“Amin raane e’a olos.”
Kelson paused in his preparations, his brows furrowing. “You’ve

said that before. Now tell me what it means.”

Rakeym tucked his hands behind his head, gazing at his forever.

“I have wandered into a dream.”

Kelson’s lips parted as his eyes began to shine. A smile curved his

mouth. “I feel the same way. None of this seems real.”

Rakeym 127

Pulling one hand free, Rakeym traced the scars on Kelson’s face,

pride swelling inside of him to have such a brave and worthy mate.
Not only had Kelson survived his imprisonment and torture, but he
didn’t back down when he truly believed in something. The man had
a spine of steel and Rakeym felt honored to be Kelson’s mate.

He hissed when Kelson wrapped his fingers around Rakeym’s

cock, lubing the hard flesh. He kept his hands to himself, letting
Kelson take over. Rakeym forced his hand back behind his head and
watched as Kelson slowly sank onto his cock.

The raw pleasure that appeared on Kelson’s face was

mesmerizing. Rakeym became lost in the expression, fascinated that
he was the one who was making his mate feel this way.

But most of all, Rakeym was humbled that someone as gorgeous

and amazing as Kelson could love him. The man didn’t see a mutant.
He didn’t lash out at Rakeym for being different. Kelson embraced
every aspect of Rakeym, even his sour disposition. Never once had
Kelson let Rakeym’s aloofness push him away.

And for that alone, Rakeym would pledge his life to the coyote.
Kelson planted his hands on Rakeym’s chest and began to move

his hips, his ass sucking in Rakeym’s cock before he pulled up, and
then sank down again.

Rakeym’s eyes dropped to Kelson’s stomach and he tried to

imagine what the man would look like swollen with his child. He
pulled a hand free and spanned his fingers over Kelson’s belly.
Rakeym’s eyebrows shot high on his forehead when he felt his unborn
child connecting with him. It wasn’t words, or even images, but a
strong bridge that formed between them. His child knew who he was.
Rakeym could feel it.

“What’s wrong?” Kelson asked as he stopped moving.
“How long is a coyote’s gestational period?”
Kelson rolled his eyes. “I’m trying to please you and your mind is

a million miles away.” His mate smacked his chest. “If you don’t join
me soon, you’re going to bruise my ego.”

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Rakeym grabbed Kelson and flipped his mate, driving his cock

deep. Kelson cried out, pulling his legs back and spreading them
wide. Rakeym watched as his shaft moved in and out of his mate,
growling at the difference in their complexions, loving how pale
Kelson was compared to Rakeym’s blue coloring.

He fucked his mate’s ass hard. Kelson’s cock bounced freely,

making Rakeym’s mouth water for a taste. He’d never sucked a cock
a day in his life, but seeing Kelson’s erection so hard, the tip leaking,
had Rakeym pulling his cock free. Before Kelson could protest,
Rakeym took the man into his mouth.

“Oh, fucking glory!”
Rakeym ignored the strange outburst, concentrating on not

choking as he mastered the art of pleasuring his mate this way. This
was one area of sex where Rakeym wasn’t experienced, but he
planned to change that.

“Rakeym…I…fuck…close.” Kelson pulled at Rakeym’s long

braid, yanking on it like a lifeline as he came. To his dismay, Rakeym
had to pull back. He’d work on swallowing another time.

Kelson relaxed his death grip on Rakeym’s hair, allowing Rakeym

to crawl back up his mate and take the man’s lips in an all-consuming
kiss, setting his blood on fire as he inched his cock back into his
mate’s ass. Kelson whimpered, pulling Rakeym closer by his
shoulders as he wrapped his legs around Rakeym’s waist.

“Promise to love me forever,” Kelson said against Rakeym’s lips.
“Not even in death shall I stop loving you.” Rakeym thrust his

cock in to the hilt, planting his hands on either side of Kelson’s head
before beginning to fuck the man in earnest. He was stunned at how
easily that promise had fallen from his lips. There was no struggle to
form the words, no hesitation in his answer.

Maybe because he felt that promise all the way to his soul.
Rakeym growled against Kelson’s lips as his climax shattered

him. He wanted a hundred children with Kelson. Rakeym wanted a
lifetime to show Kelson how much the shifter meant to him. Rakeym

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Chapter Twelve

Rakeym was a little rusty when it came to the ancient language of

his people. In training camp, his instructor had insisted Rakeym learn
the forgotten tongue. The man had said that Rakeym would amount to
nothing and he needed some sort of skill to fall back on.

He was glad that what he’d thought of as an insult was now

paying off. Only a select few could read the language. Thankfully,
one of the council members was versed as well. Because what
Rakeym was reading rocked him to his core.

“Anything interesting?” Kelson asked as he came into Rakeym’s

office and curled up on the couch.

“Very,” Rakeym answered as he flipped through the aged papyrus

pages. “According to this book, the laws we follow were never
intended.”

Kelson lifted his head. “Meaning?”
Rakeym set the book down, skimming his finger over the passage

he’d been reading. “We were never supposed to inbreed. As a matter
of fact, the practice was outlawed. The original elders had taken other
species as their mates. The Shadow elves have strong genes and not
only would our pigmentation dominate, but breeding outside our own
race made us stronger.”

Kelson’s hand flattened over his stomach, a slow grin forming.

“So our child will be stronger because you mated a coyote shifter?”

“According to these passages, yes.” Rakeym wasn’t sure why this

book had been sealed away or how Lence had known about it. But if
the council believed this to be a true artifact, then Rakeym could help
guide the Shadow elves in a new direction. Not all would willingly

Rakeym 131

go. He wasn’t foolish enough to hope for one hundred percent
cooperation. But he now had proof that his race wasn’t supposed to
shun outsiders. Hell, one of the elders had even had a male mate.

“What if no one believes you?” Kelson asked. “What if they think

this is some kind of trick?”

“It only takes one.” Rakeym recited words Kelson had said to him

not too long ago. “I’m not going to give up. If I can convince them
that this is real, then the mortality rate of our children will drop. Our
race will flourish once again.”

Kelson got up and crossed the room, maneuvering around until he

was seated in Rakeym’s lap. “Whatever you decide to do, I’ll stand by
your side.”

Rakeym was still adjusting to how devoted Kelson was to him,

and he cherished every aspect of his mate. He slipped his arm around
Kelson, giving him a gentle hug.

“In this together?”
Kelson smiled, pressing his forehead against Rakeym’s. “Until the

very end.”

Rakeym growled when someone knocked on his office door. He

hated when his time with Kelson was interrupted. “Come in.”

Nazul poked his head in, an apologetic expression in his eyes.

“Your dear old mom is here.”

Since discovering that his mother had tried to kill him and harm

Kelson, Rakeym had put off facing her. The anger and betrayal had
reached an all new high and he feared he just might kill her.

But he had to stop putting it off. She was going to pay for her part

in Lence’s plan. Kelson scooted from Rakeym’s lap, allowing him to
stand and exit his office.

Fayette was standing in the foyer, Sentinels all around her. When

he’d learned from Kelson that his mother had been part of a plot to
have Rakeym killed, it hadn’t surprised him. He’d had her arrested
and detained until he could face her without tearing out her throat.

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But she had remained an ever-present thorn in his side, demanding

to be seen by her son. Rakeym knew it galled her to have to bow to
him. That wasn’t what he wanted from her, but Rakeym had given up
hope long ago that she’d ever truly love him.

“How dare you!” she spat as soon as Rakeym entered the foyer.

He wouldn’t allow her to be taken to any part of the house beyond the
front door. Rakeym didn’t want her in his home, period.

“You conspired with Lence to have me killed.”
“Lies!” she shrieked. She’d been held prisoner for over a week

and Rakeym could see her limbs shaking from alcohol withdrawal.
Her blue hue was paler, her face gaunt. For the first time, he looked at
her as a broken soul, not a strong adversary. But he knew better than
to feel sorry for her. Fayette wouldn’t hesitate to kill him, even now,
when her life hinged on his decision.

“I’d put more faith in a mate I’ve had for less than a month than in

my own mother.” Rakeym stepped closer. “How fucked up is that?”

“He’s brainwashed you,” she sneered. “How could you believe a

filthy dog over me?”

An overwhelming urge to backhand her seized Rakeym, but he

forced his hand to stay at his side. No matter how evil or blackhearted
she was, Fayette was still his mother and Rakeym refused to
disrespect the woman by striking her.

“Fayette Dareon, I sentence you to leave this village and never

return. If you do, then I’ll have the full weight of our laws coming
down on your head.” He shook his head, feeling sad, even though she
was truly unredeemable. His heart felt heavy as he spoke to her.
“Which means I’ll order your death if you come back here.”

“You’re banishing me?” Her words were spoken in utter disbelief.

“You would cast your own mother out into the world?”

Rakeym curled his lip back. “You cast me out into it when I was

five.”

He waved a hand at Nazul and Jhan. “Make sure she packs what

she wants and then escort her off of the marshland.”

Rakeym 133

“I hate you!” she shouted as Nazul and Jhan pulled her away. “I

wish I had killed you at birth!”

“You did,” Rakeym murmured before turning to see Kelson

standing behind him.

His mate slowly shook his head, an indiscernible expression in his

coppery eyes. “Anyone else would have her executed for what she’s
done.”

“And how would you have handled this?” Rakeym asked.
The Sentinels that remained became wide eyed. Rakeym had

never asked for anyone’s advice before. He knew he was changing
and he knew a lot of people wouldn’t accept how things were turning,
but Rakeym refused to hide how he felt toward Kelson. The coyote
shifter was his mate and if anyone refused to see that Kelson was an
integral part of Rakeym’s life, then he would deal with them.

“Honestly?” Kelson moved closer, his eyes flickering over the

Sentinels as he approached. “I think you handled your mother
admirably. I couldn’t be prouder of you.”

Rakeym’s heart swelled at the pride he could see in Kelson’s eyes.

He turned to Talon. “Go set up a meeting with the council.”

Talon gave a half bow before leaving. Rakeym gazed at the other

Sentinels who lingered. He was confident in their abilities, but only to
a point. When it came to guarding his mate, Rakeym only trusted
Nazul and Jhan. He would eventually trust Talon, but the man had a
lot of growing up to do first.

He decided to take Kelson with him. The council would just have

to deal with a shifter attending a meeting. If Kelson was going to rule
at his side, then everyone better get used to Rakeym’s mate.

An hour later, Rakeym was in front of the council, his head high,

and a look of warning in his eyes. If anyone said one wrong thing
about Kelson…

“Where did you find this book?” Aslanyn asked. “How can we be

sure it’s authentic?”

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Rakeym could hear the whispers among the council, the outrage,

and even the hesitance to believe that the laws they’d been following
hadn’t been set down by their elders.

It begged the question of who had hidden the real laws and

implemented the ones they lived by. Rakeym knew that question
might never be answered. His only concern was guiding his people in
the right direction.

“I have many talents,” Rakeym answered. “But one of them is not

forging ancient laws. The paper is aged, and who among us can read,
let alone write the ancient language?”

“You,” Aslanyn accused. “You have mated a shifter, which is

punishable by our laws. A male at that.”

“Wait.” Galenia held her slim hand up. “Let me see the book in

question.”

By rights, Rakeym could overrule the council. He was the leader

of this tribe. But he would have a war on his hands, a war he might
not win. Instead, he allowed them to reason this out.

Aslanyn didn’t look pleased, but he handed the book over.

Galenia was quiet for some time. Rakeym could see Kelson fidgeting.
Rakeym pressed a hand into Kelson’s back, steadying his mate.

“How could you refute this?” Galenia finally asked as she looked

up from what she’d been reading. “There might be a way to
counterfeit the writing, but no one could forge the Elder Seal.”

“He’s trying to fool us,” Aslanyn argued. “No one wanted him as

leader in the first place. Rakeym knows this. He is trying to find a
way to look the hero in all of this.”

Rakeym scoffed. “You think I’m doing this to gain popularity?”
“Opinion matters,” Aslanyn countered.
“If I had a dollar for every time I gave a shit what one of you

thought of me, I’d be deeply in debt.”

Galenia’s lips twitched as she held up her hand, silencing

everyone. Rakeym quieted out of respect because the woman had
never slighted him in any way. Aslanyn closed his mouth because he

Rakeym 135

feared the woman. She was one tough cookie and Rakeym knew half
the council was afraid of her.

“I know there is no love lost between you and Rakeym,” Galenia

said to Aslanyn. “But that is no reason to deny this genuine artifact.
The entire council will convene to discuss what to do about this
revelation.” She turned to Rakeym. “Your mating will be recorded
and accepted.”

Rakeym could have cared less if it wasn’t. But a small part of him

did want everyone to acknowledge that Kelson was his and Rakeym
wasn’t backing down from his claim.

“That’s preposterous!” Aslanyn shouted.
“As is your hatred,” Galenia said. She grabbed the book and

walked into the back chamber. The others followed, Aslanyn giving
Rakeym a hate-filled look before he, too, was gone.

“I think that went pretty well.” Kelson grabbed Rakeym’s hand.

“At least they didn’t outright refuse to listen.”

Rakeym shimmered them home, releasing Kelson’s hand. “Even

if the council rules in favor of following this new book, it’s going to
be a hard battle ahead of us.”

Kelson nudged his shoulder against Rakeym before Rakeym

enveloped his mate in his arms, pressing Kelson’s back to his chest,
spanning his fingers over an abdomen that would soon show proof of
how much he loved Kelson.

“I told you,” Kelson said, his hands covering Rakeym’s. “It only

takes the strength of one to change many.”

Rakeym hugged Kelson close. “And it only takes the strength of

one stubborn mate to thaw a frozen heart.”

Kelson chuckled. “Your heart wasn’t frozen.”
And Kelson would be wrong. For years, Rakeym had barely felt

anything other than hate and animosity. Only a select few had escaped
those festering emotions. But Kelson was changing Rakeym, making
him see that even though he’d survived hell on earth, there was also a
heaven, and it was right there in his mate’s arms.

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* * * *

Ahm set his daughter on the carpet before taking a seat on

Rakeym’s couch. It felt strange coming back here. Ahm remembered
when all of this had belonged to him. But he wouldn’t trade his life
with Bryce and Ashayla for anything in the world.

“Being a leader suits you,” he said as he gazed at his friend sitting

behind the desk. There was definitely something different about
Rakeym. The man didn’t have his usual snarl pulling at his upper lip.
Not that he had been that way with Ahm.

“It’s a lot of hard work,” Rakeym admitted. “But I think I’m

finally making progress.”

Ahm sat there, listening to Rakeym tell him about the ancient

book Kelson and Meda had found. It shocked Ahm that the laws they
had abided by their entire lives were false. Although he had been
shunned by his very own people, Ahm was glad they were now
making progress in the right direction.

He glanced up when Kelson walked into the office. Ahm’s eyes

widened when he spotted the circle of conception around the coyote’s
neck. “And you didn’t call me about this?” He waved his hand at
Kelson’s neck. “I’m hurt, Rakeym.”

To add to his already-amazed state, Rakeym laughed. Ahm was

blown away at just how handsome his friend was when he smiled.
The coyote seemed to be a good thing for Rakeym.

“I’m not a gossip,” Rakeym stated.
Ahm rolled his eyes. “Tell that to someone who you don’t visit

and give all the juicy tidbits on what’s happening in the village.”

Rakeym appeared unabashed as Kelson sat on the man’s lap. Ahm

was truly happy for his friend. Rakeym deserved someone who would
look past his sour disposition and love the man with his whole heart.

“There’s another reason I’m here.” Ahm scooped his daughter up

when she tried to join Kelson on Rakeym’s lap. Ashayla was three

Rakeym 137

now, and thought every man she met was her uncle. He blamed that
on Chauncey. The guy was famous for teaching Ashayla bad habits.
Bryce was still trying to kill Chauncey for teaching their daughter
how to throw her hand up in a stop gesture when either of her fathers
told her something she didn’t want to hear.

Rakeym gazed at Ahm, but didn’t say a word. Ahm wasn’t too

sure how well his friend would receive the invitation, but the vote had
been unanimous. “We would like you to join the Ultionem.”

Kelson’s eyes widened, but Rakeym showed no kind of reaction.
“With Dante tucked away in suburban hell, we need a seventh

person for balance,” Ahm finished.

Rakeym scoffed. “And you think I’m balanced?”
Ahm smiled. “I didn’t say balanced as in mentally. We need to

keep the numbers odd so the vote can never be tied.”

“What benefits does he get?” Kelson asked and it was Ahm’s turn

to make a rude sound.

“This isn’t a union. The only benefit he’ll get is helping to set

down the laws of all paranormal creatures and—” Ahm scratched his
head. “It’s just a cool club to join, okay?”

“Have you talked to Maverick lately?” Kelson asked and Ahm

knew why the man was inquiring about the alpha. Ahm was the last
person who wanted to deliver bad news, but since everyone had
assumed Kelson was dead as well, this was the first contact anyone
outside the marshlands had had with the coyote since that fateful day
in the forest.

“I’m sorry, Kelson. Maverick found Emery washed up in the

ravine.” Ahm felt bad for the shifter when he covered his face and let
go of a strangled cry. Rakeym pulled his mate into his arms,
comforting him. Although the shifter had just received bad news,
Ahm was fascinated to see Rakeym be so tender. He’d known the
man for over three hundred years and not once had he seen this soft
side.

138

Lynn Hagen

“It was Marino,” Kelson said as he lay against Rakeym’s chest.

Ahm listened to Kelson tell him about the wildlife sanctuary and what
Marino was doing there. He even told Ahm that Rakeym had sent his
Sentinels in to rescue those who had survived.

Ahm had known about what Marino’s activities, but not where the

sanctuary was. Myne and Yante had been working for Ahm, not
Marino. But he’d lost contact with the bookies and was having a hard
time finding them. They all knew that Marino was trying to find a
cure for taking the elixir of life. “I have to go let the others know
where this place is located and find out what happened to Myne and
Yante.” He grabbed his daughter.

“They’re currently combing the village,” Rakeym answered.
Ahm rolled his eyes. “Those idiots. Give them a task of spying on

Marino and they go off doing something else. They are probably
making it look like they’re searching for Kelson, but goofing off
instead.”

“No doubt,” Rakeym answered as he stood, running his knuckles

down Ashayla’s cheek. “I’ll tell them you’re looking for them.”

“Let me know your answer before the week’s end,” Ahm said to

Rakeym before he shimmered away.

* * * *

“I think that’s a fair deal.” Marino sat back in his cushy chair, in

his homey office, a smirk of triumph on his scaly face.

Mateo shoved his hands into the pockets of his neatly pressed suit.

“What makes you think I need to make deals with you?”

“Because we are of like minds,” Marino stated smugly.
Mateo was growing tired of this self-aggrandizing creature. He

hadn’t escaped the bowels of hell just so he could bow to some
pompous ass. He wasn’t even sure how Marino had known who he
was. Mateo had to keep his identity hidden or Nazaryth and his
winged beasts would be on his heels in no time. Mateo was a god and

Rakeym 139

feared no one, but until he removed the shackle on his ankle that
stopped him from fully accessing his powers, he had to be careful.

But the person Mateo had to make sure he steered clear of was

Jaden. Death was the person who had put Mateo into the pits of hell in
the first place. And until he regained his full power, Mateo wouldn’t
be paying the man back for his treacherous deed.

Nevertheless, Marino knew too much. The man was an insect and

Mateo planned on crushing him under his shoe. “We are nothing
alike,” Mateo stated with arrogance. “You are a tick clinging to the
ass of a deer while I am the hunter.”

Marino jumped to his feet, his hand shooting out as he pointed at

Mateo. “You have no idea who you’re fucking with.”

Mateo tapped into the small reserve of power he had, curling his

fingers in and watching as Marino grabbed his own throat, clawing at
the skin, fighting to breathe.

“There’s a new bad boy in town and it isn’t you,” Mateo said.

“I’m taking over.” He slammed his fingers closed and watched as
Marino’s lifeless body hit the floor.

Mateo then turned to the chameleon-wolf shifter. “If you can give

your services to a worthless piece of shit, then surely you can serve a
god.”

The shifter swallowed as he gazed up at Mateo. “I never wanted to

work for Marino.”

Mateo gave an evil chuckle. “Yet you did because he held

something over you.”

The man’s face turned to stone, his expression inscrutable.
Mateo took a step forward. “I could care less if you slaughtered

your entire pack. You’ll work for me out of fear for your life. I have
no use for Vampire Hunters or any other means Marino used to hold
his position.”

The shifter hesitated and then gave a begrudging nod.
Mateo nodded in return. “Our first order of business is to make

money.”

140

Lynn Hagen

“How?” the shifter asked.
“How else?” Mateo gave a toothy grin. “By becoming a drug

lord.”

THE END

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Lynn Hagen loves writing about the somewhat flawed, but

lovable. She also loves a hero who can see past all the rough edges to
find the shining diamond of a beautiful heart.

You can find her on any given day curled up with her laptop and a

cup of hot java, letting the next set of characters tell their story.

For all titles by Lynn Hagen, please visit