Chapter 1
ELENA PIERSON
“If I die, delete my kindle history,” I mutter, standing frozen in place, while my heart thunders in my ears.
My gaze is cemented squarely on the deep dark woods several yards from where I sit under a large willow tree, trying to survive one of my worst fears.
“There weren’t supposed to be bears in these woods. ”
“What?” Natalie answers, her voice low and confused coming through my earbuds.
I had trespassing, possible jail time in a foreign country, and soreness from years of not taking my brother up on more of his rock climbing classes at the gym as a list of possibilities when I decided to adventure to Romania.
Locating and taking a sample of the only fresh water in existence that’s been untouched by humans for almost a millennia is priceless, but being eaten by bears is one thing I thought I’d crossed off.
“Just hurry and Google for me if there are any bears near the castle,” I whisper back to her, my gaze darting through the shadowy tree line for any sign of movement.
Whatever that was, it was freaking huge.
“We’re going to circle back to what you’ve been reading, but you know there aren’t any bears. You told me yourself when I asked last month, remember?” my best friend says.
“Something big just ran behind the castle,” I tell her, if only to reaffirm it for myself. My thighs burn as I stand up from the squat I’ve been in and realize that my butt, along with the phone I had in my back pocket, is damp from the wet ground.
I grimace as goosebumps pebble along my skin, and resist the urge to shiver when the cold seeps in through my clothes.
I glance back at my backpack on the bridge and wonder how quickly I can grab my supplies without alerting whatever animal is in the forest, but a sharp and piercing howl in the distance has every hair on my body standing on end.
“You did mention wolves,” Nat replies helpfully, obviously having heard them too.
Shit.
I did mention wolves, which is why I bought an air horn yesterday at the closest hunting store I could find once I landed in Romania just in case, but no way am I going to use it unless I absolutely have to.
I can just imagine the news headline: ‘Elena Pierson, Twenty-Six-Year-Old Nerdy Biologist is Detained After Trespassing on Private Property and Waking up Castle Owners Via Air Horn.’
I’d really rather not.
Another howl fills the quiet, overcrowding the soft hum of night insects and occasional hoot of an owl I’d been listening to for the last hour and I frown. That’s odd. The wolves now sound much further away.
I place a hand on my chest while waiting on my heartbeat to return to a normal cadence, and I rationalize it could’ve been a lone wolf rejoining his pack after venturing near the castle wall.
Not that it matters, no way am I sticking around.
“Nat, let me call you back. I’m going to need to foot it back to the hotel,” I say, knowing running is about to be in my near future.
“The wolves?” she asks.
I grin even though I know she can’t see me. “They’ve moved up the ridgeline it sounds like, but I’m going to try and hurry back to check out these samples. The bus is coming early in the morning,” I remind her.
This is a working holiday-ish.
Besides, Natalie is used to my constant babble about work, and she knows once I get going on a new sample area I’ll be obsessed for days.
Untapped water reservoir that’s home to my favorite beetle?
I’ll be poring over these babies for weeks, I think to myself, my gaze scanning back over the terrain to where I’d left five new samples, and a flutter of giddiness fills me at the sight.
I’m so glad I made it before the castle owners did something nuts, like drain the moat and slap in a pool. A very real fear up until now.
“Okay, if you’re sure. Just text me and let me know you’re alive when you can. And try to have a good time, yeah? Collin just got home,” she says conspiratorially, and I know she means she needs to get off the phone anyway.
My brother Collin is part of the reason why I read my books with a hefty dose of kraken tentacles and monster smut, because men, like him and my other three brothers, are babies and are far more trouble than what they’re worth.
I check the time and nod. A little after two a.m. here, means it’s just after six p.m. there. “Yeah it’s just about dinner time now. Kiss Keegan for me,” I tell her, wishing I could hug my nephew suddenly.
“Have fun Elena, and call me when you make it into wherever you’re staying next,” Nat says.
“I will,” I promise, and the call ends.
The wind picks up and I shiver finally, and then register that the back of my shirt is damp too. What the heck?
I turn and my foot slides, causing my heart to lodge somewhere in my throat as I reach out and grasp for anything to hang onto. My fingers wrap in the deep green of the willow tree branches, luckily stopping my fall.
“Shit,” I gasp, laughing a little at how I must look, dangling out across the water.
I turn my head and meet the gaze of someone swimming just beneath the surface of the moat. Alarm flairs in my middle at the sight as my heart drops into my stomach.
A startled scream escapes my lips just as I lose hold of the willow branch, and I fall backward, plunging into the cold depths of the moat.
Strong hands register at my waist, taking hold of me just as my gaze dims to pitch black.
Lachlan Macbeth
Her eyes are blue. The thought hasn’t the time to pass through my brain before the decision to spend the rest of my life deciphering their exact color becomes my sole reason for breathing. My one true love has finally come and released me.
A high and shrill scream leaves her as she falls quite literally into my arms. Her gaze shutters and it dawns she may have fainted away, likely from seeing me swimming in swamp water in the middle of the night.
Happiness, along with a hefty dollop of concern, floods my sternum as I pull her to my chest and begin pushing her above water to allow her breath.
My hands shake, and I fight to keep them steady while an overwhelming sense of rightness centers in my being as I watch the magic bond take hold between us.
She’s my true mate.
The knowledge fills me along with intense determination as the deep green glow filters through the air swirling around our bodies within the water. Her hair plasters to her scalp, making it look like light strokes of honey down her face as I walk us both out and onto the nearby steps of the bridge.
“My, but you are a right bonnie lassie,” I say, a pang striking my heart as I gaze down at her.
A pert nose, round pale face, and big eyes make up her beautiful features, and instantly I know I’d move heaven and earth to keep her. Down to the marrow of my very bones, I’ll fight to stay by this lassie’s side forever— if she’ll have me.
A tremble wracks through my body at the thought of her possible revulsion, and my grip tightens on her voluptuous form as I bring her closer to my chest. My hands, even as large as they are, can’t span the width of her thick thighs and waist, and a sense of pride washes over me.
Gods be good, she’ll like the look of me too.
Her hand falls listlessly at her side and I frown, noticing a light thread of magic touching at her temples.
She’s not fainted as I’d first thought the moment I caught her, but has instead been rendered unconscious by the strength of the waters, most likely from the amount of magic coursing within the moat after so many long years.
Adrenaline pounding in my veins, I make way to the large castle doors and kick them open, uncaring when they swing wide and ricochet into the stone walls.
I tuck my mate into the crook of my arms and cover her ears for fear of her wee eardrums. “Help!” I bellow, sending my voice careening through the old keep, knowing everyone within has supernatural hearing and will come scurrying in a moment.
“Well, it looks like she made it in time after all,” Whitley calls out, and I turn to find the castle chef walking from one of the parlor rooms wearing her white uniform, her brown hair up in a tight bun.
My best friend, and the werewolf Doyle’s mate, grins from ear to ear, before reaching my side and squealing happily.
She leans in to hug us both awkwardly, obviously excited for my good fortune.
“Isn’t she bonnie? I can’t wait to know her name,” I say, holding out the lass carefully for her to see.
“She is, Lachlan. Take her to the library and make sure she gets out of those wet clothes,” Whitley says, nudging me toward a set of double doors while she tuts at the large puddles of water now in the doorway.
I wince at the mess I’ve left and reach out with my power to magically gather the water from the floor and extract the damp from our clothes in one smooth pull.
I can already sense from the strain of it that without my trident made whole, most of my magic has been made useless, but I can at least try to tidy my messes.
“Thanks,” Whitley murmurs, seemingly impressed by my trick.
“She won’t wake. I think she’s been put under a spell from the moat,” I say, before moving past her to make my way to the library, not wanting to waste any more time.
“Oh, good you’re here,” I say in a way of greeting to Vlad and Aubrey, seated near the fireplace.
Aubrey sits up, rising off Vlad’s lap, her long blonde hair a mess and clothes askew, likely her mate’s fault. She straightens her white blouse and climbs off Vlad to stand near his chair.
I glance around the expansive walls of the library, my gaze coasting across the various portraits dotted in between the vast rows of bookshelves, finding the room greatly changed since the last time I was in it. Lots of new shiny items are dotted about the library, no doubt Connor’s doing.
It’s been centuries since I’ve been able to step foot inside.
“What the bloody hell?” Vlad exclaims, his gaze on the treasure in my arms as he gets to his feet.
I stride across the room to deposit the bundle in my arms onto the couch, only to freeze just before doing so. My heart gives a flutter in my chest, a small pit forming in my stomach at the realization that I’ll have to stop touching her if I do.
“Over three hundred years I’ve waited for her,” I mutter, forcing my fingers to uncurl and let her go.
My hands tremble with the want to pull her back into my arms, but I back away a step when Whitley shows up at my side, a blanket in hand.
I quickly cover the lassie’s body, tucking it around her shoulders gentle like.
Even though she’s dressed in a white shirt, shorts, and boots, I still want her covered. Her brown shorts are bloody short, and I’m grateful to Whitley and for her foresight to know I’d want to protect my mate’s privacy.
“Thank you,” I say to Whitley, and pull her into a tight hug.
Setting her on her feet when I hear her mate clear his throat, I round on Vlad. “Can you call Odette?” I ask him, grinning when I find him seemingly shocked to silence.
The cranky old vampire’s gaze goes to my chest, and his facial features change slightly, his lip curling as he looks up at me. “Would it have killed you to put a shirt on?”
“Making you uncomfortable, am I Vlad?” I bounce my brow and flex my chest before pulling him into a bear hug too, ignoring his protests as I squeeze him to me, unconcerned with the fact I’m wearing only swim shorts.
He doubles down in a show of strength trying to pull away, but I don’t let him, knowing not many get the chance to show the wary male affection.
“It’s bloody good to see you,” I say, clutching him that much harder to me as he lightly struggles. He may be a powerful vampire, but instead of wasting away forever like he chose, I’ve had hundreds of years of strength training and storing my magic.
Given the time and progress I’ve made, it would take a much more formidable opponent to ever best me the way Vivian did ever again, and I highly doubt any one entity could be as strong as I’ve gotten.
“Get off me!” Vlad finally announces, his body going stiff in my arms.
I let him go after a few swift pats to his back and chuckle. “It feels good to be free.”
“Doyle, find Lachlan a shirt, and some pants to put on,” the vampire grouses.
I turn my head and find the werewolf standing just inside the sliding pocket door, dressed far more casual than I’ve ever seen.
The man is usually wearing butler-like garb, and I realize Whitley must have a hand in his new appearance.
Happiness swells within me to know my best mates are having such good fortune and seem content with one another.
Connor O’Doyle beams a smile before crossing his arms over his gray t-shirt and nods. “Good to see you out of your pond, Lachlan. I knew I smelled a human earlier while on a run and hoped I hadn’t scared her off,” he says, glancing behind me at the woman on the couch.
Before I can start explaining to him what’s happened, Whitley appears at my side again, shoving an armload of clothing at me this time, which I take gratefully.
I set the folded pants to the side and tug a soft, but obviously expensive white shirt over my head, smirking at how the new couples seem to gravitate toward one another like magnets snapping in place across the room.
Whitley and Connor sit opposite Vlad and Aubrey, each of them seated in a large wingback chair adjacent to the large green couch where my mate still hasn’t stirred.
After pulling my pants over my trunks, I raise a brow at Vlad. “Call Odette for me would ya? I think she’s been bespelled to sleep.”
“Only a fool or someone really fucking desperate would trust Odette with their mate,” Frank Stein’s familiar voice growls at my back. He’s dressed in his typical business suit, a wide frown marring his face, while his new mate, Bernadette stands behind him just inside the library double doors.
“What’s wrong with Odette?” I ask.
Odette is known as the most powerful magical witch for the last millennium, and is a friend to boot. I’ve no reason not to call her, especially when it was her magic that helped lift some of the Lady of the Lake’s curse so long ago.
“Her magic is volatile, and can’t be trusted,” Frank says, folding his arms over his chest.
I frown at the behemoth of a male, sensing he has more to say about the witch, but his attention moves squarely on the woman at his side.
“Is she dead?” Bernadette suddenly asks, pointing at the couch with her free hand as she clutches at Frank’s suit with the other, her gaze wide with apprehension.
Panic has me moving to block her view and searching for the words to put them at ease about the state of things. “No, she’s just been cursed a bit is all. She’ll be right as rain soon.”
“Well, she’s definitely not breathing,” Aubrey murmurs loud enough for everyone to hear, and the room explodes into female chatter.