Veltris leaned over and kissed hismate, inhaling her sweet scent. “I will avenge the harm caused toyou and our unborn pup. The Blood Wolves will suffer forthis.”
He stared at his mate for a heartbeatlonger and then forced himself to leave the room. Ren would keepher safe and heal her. All Veltris could do in there was be in theway.
A thought occurred to him, and hepaused in the hall to let his mind roll.
His pack had gone after the BloodWolves before and failed numerous times. They were more vicious,more brutal than purebred shifters because of their vampire genes,and each time they battled, Veltris lost members. That two of theBlood Wolves had fallen had been luck more than planning, and hewas certain they wouldn’t be that lucky again. But... if hecouldn’t kill Wrath—the most dangerous and feared male on thecontinent—by himself, the possibility for his downfall could comeat the hands of multiple groups.
If Veltris got the other purebredpacks to band together, they would be strong enough to defeat him,wipe him and his mangy hybrids off the face of the fucking planet.It wouldn’t be easy—purebreds had a history of fighting forterritory and power among themselves, and there were a lot ofstrong-willed alphas who wouldn’t want to admit they weren’tpowerful enough on their own. But he knew for a fact that everyalpha within five hundred miles of the Blood Wolves had been harmedin some way by the hybrids. Wrath was not above using innocents togain whatever he wanted—territory, power, wealth.
Taking Gemma and putting her and theirpup in danger was one step too far in Veltris’s mind.
Wrath was irredeemable. He needed tobe put down.
And Veltris was just the male to doit.
* * *
Trinity Jeremiah rolled her neck andtook a drink from her favorite mug.
“Oh, blech,” she said. Thecoffee had gone ice cold. She glanced at the digital clock next toher computer and realized she’d been writing for an hour without abreak. The words had needed to come out, like some kind of creativevomit. Which was a gross thing to think about.
She pushed back in her chair andstood, smiling at the screen. Her current work in progress was bookeleven in her series about an alternate earth. In her world, therewas no modern technology, which made it a bit like medieval timesbut without the knights and castles. She populated her fantasyworld with vampires, shifters, and humans. The vampires andshifters hated each other, but they hated the hybrids of theirpeople—Blood Wolves—far more. The Blood Wolves were the villains ofthe series, and the most villainous of all was their alpha,Wrath.
Popping a coffee pod into the machine,she yawned and waited for it to brew. Her mind flitted to the dreamshe’d had the night before, which had prompted the scene she’d justwritten. She’d been dreaming about Wrath and his band ofwolf-vampire hybrids since she was a teenager. The dreams had cometo her infrequently the year she turned fifteen, and most oftenwere only about Wrath. When she turned sixteen, the dreams werefairly regular, nearly every month, and became more detailed as themonths rolled by. She looked forward to the dreams as much as shewas troubled by them.
She felt connected to Wrath, as ifthey were meant to know each other. But he was a figment of herimagination, and it wasn’t as if she could make him a reality. Incollege she took a creative writing class and wrote a story aboutone of the recurring dreams, in which Wrath killed the leader ofthe Blood Wolves and became Alpha. The old alpha had gone crazybecause he hadn’t found his true mate—the one female in the worldmeant for him. Blood Wolves, as hybrids of two supernaturalcreatures, went insane without their true mate to balance theirferocious nature. A true mate curbed their blood lust and need forviolence, kept the beast in check. The males only had through theirtwenties to find their mate and claim her. Once they hit thirty,they became unstable, too rage-filled, more beast than man,attacking their own family and pack.
While her teacher had thought thestory was too violent, and Wrath was irredeemable, Trinity had feltin her heart that her dream man was fully redeemable. With theright woman.
A few years later, she was a publishedauthor with twenty novels based on the world of her dreamsfeaturing Wrath and his Blood Wolves versus the purebred wolfshifters. She still dreamed about Wrath regularly, and those dreamswere documented in her books.
She fixed her coffee with caramelcreamer and headed outside to the concrete patio. Sitting at thelittle bistro table, she stared out at the cornfield highlightedwith the morning sun. Her mind wandered to the scene she’d written.Veltris saving Gemma was a good thing, but his plan to rally theother purebred alphas to destroy Wrath was something she hadn’texpected.
Not that she’d ever let that happen.They might come at the Blood Wolves, but she was still the authorand creator of the world and she’d never let him be killed. In herdreams, he was the sexiest man alive—dark hair, piercing greeneyes, and a body built for war.
And pleasure.
And he was all hers.
Chapter Two
Trinity scooted her chair in a littlecloser to the long table and settled the lanyard around her neckbetter, so it laid comfortably. The doors to the ballroom wereabout to open, and she was full to the brim with nerves andexcitement. It was her first time as a signing author to thepopular book lovers’ convention—Romancing Philly—in Philadelphia,Pennsylvania. She lived two hours from the bustling downtown, butshe’d never gone to a convention as a signer. It wasn’t until anauthor pal suggested if she went they could share a hotel room,that she decided it would be a fun thing to do.
So here she was, sitting next to herfriend and fellow fantasy romance author—Gloria Maynert—with stacksof books in front of her, a big banner at her back, and a wholebunch of swag spread out on the table.
“You look like a deer aboutto bolt,” Gloria said with a chuckle. “You keep watching thedoor.”
“I can’t shake the worrythat no one will want my
