Rebel & Her Knights, page 23
The last Alpha I expect to buy me in the Institute’s auction is the same Alpha who abandoned me. The man who broke my heart: my enemy. What secret lies behind his rejection? Will this generous, heroic Alpha and his beautiful rock star male Omega bond with me for real this time or send me back to the Institute?
When we’re stalked, a dominant Alpha Sheriff and his Beta Deputy take us under their strict protection.
But then, they can’t protect us from the secrets of our pasts.
Ember. Her marshals. A pack bond that changes everything.
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REBEL WEREWOLVES
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The Alpha rapped a silver tipped cane against the single word above the door: REJECT.
I lifted my eyebrow. “So, not all your Omegas are perfect.”
The Alpha’s nostrils flared, and she bared her teeth; I could’ve imagined it, but I thought that they lengthened just for a moment. I fought the urge to take a step back. Then I shooed her with my hands. Reluctantly, she stepped away, swinging open the door.
Silver magic swirled out, sighing as it curled around my own.
I stared into the gloom of the tiny windowless room, scrunching my nose against its stuffiness. There was nothing in it, not even a mattress, except for the wolf shifter, whose magic had leaked out and sought mine, while every other Omega avoided me like I’d be the one to gobble them up.
You know, I’ve spent the last ten years dreaming of either kissing or killing a werewolf.
Case in point: the sleeping werewolf marked REJECT, who unlike the other Omegas, was naked. A tumble of moon blond curls, long limbs curled on the cold floor, and a leather collar that was stark in contrast to the paleness of his skin.
What made him different enough to be shut up here?
I suddenly couldn’t help the smile as I tapped with my magical shadows on his head. He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like but I don’t want to get up for school yet and squirmed, nestling back into his arms. He might be a wolf, but I couldn’t help the urge to kiss the curve of his soft mouth. I slid the shadows lower, down his neck, between his pink nipples that peaked from the lightest touch, and then…tickled.
The Omega spluttered awake, flailing and staring up at me with wide golden eyes that were flecked with silver and framed by thick black lashes.
My breath caught.
He wasn’t pretty like the other Omegas: he was beautiful.
How on earth could he be a reject?
The Omega rubbed his hand over his eyes, before yawning and blinking at me. Then he glanced down at himself as if remembering that he was naked and crossed his arms. A rosy blush crept up his neck.
“By my fur, I didn’t expect to entertain today.” His soft Scottish accent didn’t hide that he could’ve won the Sass Awards. It jolted me how little I would’ve guessed he was a werewolf and that I didn’t even know what on earth that meant. “Who are you then?”
I arched my brow. “Someone who’s traveled too far to stare at a lazy ass sleeping wolf.”
The Omega pushed himself up to lounge against the wall like we were in a club and not a cell, pushing a curl behind his ear. “Are they even selling tickets to see my fine behind to American witches now? Were you expecting a lap dance?”
When he cocked his head, I noticed that he wasn’t trembling or looking at me like I was a dragon, and that it was adorable. And why would I think like that about a wolf? Was it the silver, which had quested, entangling with my red?
As a kid, I’d always been taught that wolf shifters didn’t have magic. And boy, did it make them more terrifying if they did.
I hadn’t realized that my breathing had become harsher and more panicked, until the Omega reached out his hand to steady me, only for the Alpha to — thwack — crack her cane down across his arm.
The Omega hissed, as the silver sizzled, burning his delicate skin. For once, the non-magicals had the myth right because silver was one of the few ways to take down a wolf.
The magical red jolted from me without even conscious thought. It slapped away the cane, clattering it across the cell. The Alpha blanched, holding up her hands in automatic surrender. She wasn’t so big without her stick, cameras, and muzzles.
The Omega’s smile was dazzling, as he ducked his head in thanks. My guts clenched, as I rode the thrill of having him look at me like that…of having anyone look at me with such genuine — surprised — respect.
That could become addictive.
“Trust me, we’re safe with the big bad Omega here.” I snatched the Alpha by the shoulder, tossing her out of the room.
My Aunt Stella’s gaze darted between us, before she sighed. “You were always one for dramatics.”
“Big bad Omega?” The Omega pouted. “Are you mocking me?”
I leaned next to him. “Well, duh.”
The Omega’s eyes widened as he stared at me, then he spluttered with laughter. “You’re not like any witch I’ve ever met. I love this goth chick thing you’ve got going on. Is madam rebelling against ma and da?”
I stiffened, biting my tongue hard enough to taste the tangy blood. “That’d be a nope. They’re dead.” This would be the point that guys at parties would rush to apologize and slip away as fast as they could. Instead, the Omega only continued to study me with an intent golden gaze. Finally, I was the one who broke. “So, are you rebelling against your mom and dad?”
The Omega shrugged one snowy shoulder, as his lips quirked into the ghost of a smile. I hated how the look made my stomach squirm. If he wasn’t a wolf — and I’d met him at one of those private parties on yachts or at the tennis club that my cousins loved so much — then he was just the sort that I’d have pinned to the sheets, until I’d dirtied up his sweet innocence. I had to stop thinking of a wolf as a sheep because that was how you ended up devoured.
At last, the Omega leaned close to my ear. “That’d be a nope,” he whispered in a faux American accent. I bristled. “But I wish that they were.”
I startled back from him, and Stella caught me.
Stella’s laugh was harsh. “Oh, my naïve niece, did his sinful body or angelic eyes trick you?” I shrugged out of her hold, although my pulse pounded too loudly in my ears. How could I’ve been so trusting, just because his magic had called to mine? “He might look your age, but these shifters live for centuries. He was a kid in the time of your legendary great-grandmother.”
Firstly, I had a legendary great-grandmother…? Secondly, I had to take home with me not simply a werewolf but one that was centuries old…? Maybe I could still persuade my aunt that I hadn’t been kidding about wanting that new set of oil paints for my birthday instead of a shifter.
The Omega had stiffened, edging warily towards the corner of the cell.
Stella gestured out at the ranks of perfect Omegas. “Why would you consider a reject, when there’s a platter of deliciousness out there?”
I shrugged. The way that she’d frowned, when I’d suggested not following her orders about taking a Charm, made me hesitate to reveal the Omega’s magic. “Shops always have the best produce hidden at the back.”
The Omega huffed. “I doff my hat to the queen of the backhanded compliment.”
“Is it because he’s got that vulnerable but rebellious thing going on?” Stella looked the Omega up and down appraisingly. “Like he should be on his knees but he’d fight you all the way? I could definitely go for a taste of that. Plus, those curls would look delectable wrapped around my fingers…”
“Stop talking,” I snarled, pressing my nails into the palm of my hand, until the crescents bit into the skin.
Stella tossed her hair. “Possessive…yet you don’t even want him.”
I noticed that the Omega’s own nails were clawing into his arms as well and that they sparkled golden. Had they been painted or were they natural?
“Are you holding out on me? Why’s this Omega in the reject pile?”
“More like,” Stella smiled; her gray eyes glittered, “what happens to him if he’s not picked?”
The Omega’s lips thinned, and for the first time, a tremor ran through him, even though he lifted his chin defiantly.
“I’ll bite: What happens if I don’t choose him?” I tried to meet the Omega’s gaze, but he stared with attempted bravado over my shoulder.
“He’ll be put down.” Stella twirled a strand of her hair around her finger. ‘Oh, don’t worry, it’ll be humane.”
When I gasped, the Omega’s gaze shot to mine in surprise: it was open and raw. I saw the hurt beneath the sass. If his silver hadn’t reached out to my red, and if I hadn’t answered its call, he’d have been executed.
Yet Stella had announced his death sentence like: Oh, it’ll be a soy latte.
Just how much did witches hate werewolves? Or werewolves their own Omegas if they weren’t perfect?
The Omega had paled. He stroked his curls as if self-soothingly. Seriously, that’s what he thought of me? That I’d only wanted some entertainment but even after knowing that he’d be put down humanely, I’d still walk away and leave him here?
I marched to the Omega, shoving his hand away from his curls and running my fingers through them instead; they were as soft as I’d hoped. He leaned into my touch, closing his eyes with a contented hum.
Then he peeked at me. “Is this the last stroke for a condemned wolf?”
KEEP READING TO FIND OUT IF SHE REJECTS OR CLAIMS THE OMEGA HERE!
REBEL DEMONS
READ MY DEMON OF FIRE HERE
I trace my fingers further along the soft bedding and blink in amazement. The bed has been pulled apart and then reformed into a strange but highly snuggly circle around me. The blankets are pulled as close as possible and the satin pillows and cushions are almost like the walls of a…
Hell, demons do nest.
And talking of demons, where’s my Demon of Fire?
I peer over the bed, but Sol’s not sleeping on the floor in a nest of his own.
Instantly panicked, I sit up, not caring that my hair is at wild angles or my stomach is rumbling for breakfast.
Where’s Sol?
Then I notice that there’s something heavy around my neck like a coiled necklace. Except, this necklace is warm, leathery, and moving.
I still and listen hard.
It’s snoring.
I hiss out a breath and reach up, only to touch scales and the light flutter of wings. Then whatever is curled around my neck begins to purr at my touch.
If demons put living collars on their humans, Sol is in for an ass kicking.
I peer down but all I can see is the ruby tip of a snout and a tail curled around my neck.
“Hey, wake up,” I hiss. “No snoozing around my neck without permission. I only give snuggles to those who I’ve been introduced to and not freaky but cute purring collars.”
Instantly, the creature wakes up with a startled jerk. His black eyes open to stare up at me in panic. He chirps as if in apology and unwinds from my neck, flying to sit on the other side of the nest.
He’s a dragon.
I gasp in delight.
The creature is tiny and beautiful. He’s shimmering ruby, and magic flutters around him like smoke. His neck is long and sinuous, and his wings sparkle.
The look that he’s shooting me is adorable, until he flashes his fangs.
I just had those small teeth way too close to my jugular…
He’s a demonic dragon. I should have known.
“I take it back. As long as you promise not to bite me, you can snuggle me any time.” I hold out my hand to the dragon, but he hops backward.
Then in a ruby spray of glitter, the dragon transforms into Prince Sol.
I let out a yelp of shock, as Sol lounges in the nest, running his fingers through his hair. He’s wearing the same pajamas as me, so at least we match.
Sol’s smile is sheepish. “I can’t promise not to bite, but thanks for the offer.”
I stare at him. “You’re a dragon.”
Of course! Sol’s guitar is decorated with dragons, and his clothes are like dragonhide. Plus, the way he half transformed last night into a monstrous creature that was growly, protective, and possessive.
“I’m a Shifter Demon,” Sol corrects, “and my shifter is a dragon. I didn’t intend to transform in the night. Instinct took over. Dragons are possessive of their treasure…”
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ROSEMARY A JOHNS is a USA Today bestselling and award-winning romance and fantasy author, music fanatic, and paranormal anti-hero addict. She writes sexy shifters and immortals, swoonworthy book boyfriends, and epic battles.
Winner of the Silver Award in the National Wishing Shelf Book Awards. Finalist in the IAN Book of the Year Awards. Winner in the Best Indie Book of the Year Awards. Runner-up in the Best Fantasy Book of the Year, Reality Bites Book Awards. Honorable Mention in the Readers’ Favorite Book Awards. Shortlisted in the International Rubery Book Awards.
Rosemary is also a traditionally published short story writer. She studied history at Oxford University and ran her own theater company. She’s always been a rebel…
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Have you read all the series in the Rebel Verse by Rosemary A Johns?
Rebel Demons
Rebel Academy
Rebel Gods
Rebel Werewolves
Rebel: House of Fae
Rebel Angels
Shadowmates
Rebel Vampires
Rebel Legends
Have you read all the series in the Oxford Verse?
Biting Mr. Darcy
Hexing Merlin
A Familiar Murder
A Familiar Curse
A Familiar Hex
A Familiar Brew
A Familiar Ghost
A Familiar Spell
A Familiar Yule
Have you read Rosemary A Johns’ Contemporary Romance?
Elite
Rebel & Her Knights
Ember & Her Marshals
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APPENDIX ONE: KNIGHT PACK
General Knight, Head Alpha
Senator Falcon Knight, Chief Alpha and owner of Knight Hall
Xavier Knight, Second Alpha and tech billionaire
Scott Knight, Beta and bodyguard
Leo Knight, Omega and painter
Rebel Knight, Omega resistance leader
APPENDIX TWO: OMEGAS
Rebel, Omega resistance leader, bonded to the Knight pack
Leo, painter, bonded to Knight pack
Roman, rock star in Knotty but Nice band, Songbird, rescued from Institute
APPENDIX THREE: BETAS
Scott, bodyguard, bonded to the Knight pack
Angel, resistance member, Rebel’s best friend
McKay, Doctor
APPENDIX FOUR: ALPHAS
The General, Head Alpha, Falcon’s father
Falcon Knight, Senator, Chief Alpha
Xavier Knight, Second Alpha, tech billionaire
Lucian, resistance member, Rebel’s brother
Clint, Alpha and enforcer in the Marshal pack
Tabitha Hyde, Senator and Falcon’s rival
Rosemary A. Johns, Rebel & Her Knights
