Property Of The Fae: A Paradormal Erotica

“You wanna get me killed?”

“Huh?” I peer up at the Fae Corps soldier. “What did I do?”

“You tell me,” he nods at a point over my shoulder. “Judging by how Tristan is glowering at me from the corner, I’d say he wants to kill me for just looking at you.”

He sidles back so he’s just out of my reach.

“Seriously, Doc?” I huff out a breath. “You’re acting as if Tristan has a claim on me.”

Doc drums his fingers on his chest. “W-e-l-l, he is your partner.”

“Work partner, and only on this upcoming mission to track down the Fae resistance,” I prop my hands on my hips.

“Or, we could call him your alpha-hole.” Doc chuckles.

I glare at him, and Doc raises his hands faceup.

We are at the arena in Singapore, to celebrate Dante mating my best friend Gia. After he deposed of Boris, the previous commander of the Fae Corps, the Fae and the Bureau of Shifters had decided to bury their differences.

I have been chosen by the Bureau to partner with Tristan as a test to see if the two species can work together.

Still, given the rivalry between the dragons and the Fae, I am wary of these men. “All eight of you Fae Corps men can teleport?”

“You need to ask Tristan.” Doc shifts his weight from foot to foot. “Assuming he agrees to take on this mission with you.”

I clench my hands. “Didn’t know Tristan had a choice in accepting me as his partner or not?” I need this assignment and it’s not for the money.

“Fae Corps work alone.” Doc sets his jaw. “And I’ve already said too much.” He makes a zipping motion over his lips.

I grimace, then pluck at the cardigan around my waist, “You Fae are the most secret, loyal, and macho race I know.”

“Don’t forget, possessive.” Doc’s gaze shoots up over my head. His cheeks go pale. “Very possessive.” He pivots his body away from me.

I blink.

Heat slams into my back and the fine hair on my neck rises. Don’t look behind. Don’t. “Get away from her.” Tristan’s voice twines around me as if it’s a lasso.

Goosebumps pop on my skin. My toes curl.

“You know me, Chef.” Doc’s throat moves as he swallows. “Just harmless conversation.” His voice is low, as if he’s trying to appease an angry beast. Or a fuming apex predator alpha?

“Sorry, Jess, but I hear someone calling my name.” Doc strides away.

“Coward,” I call after him, then swipe the hair from my face.

The heat at my back turns up a notch. The scent of pinewood and smoky incense swirls around me. Tristan’s scent.

My skin puckers. Every pore in my body seems to quiver in anticipation.

“You have to face me at some point.” The rough edge to his tone tugs at my already sensitized nerve endings.

“Do I?” My pulse rate ratchets up.

“And you called Doc a coward?” A snicker floats down from somewhere far above me. “Pot meet kettle.”

I bet if I turn around, I’ll see a smirk on his face, his lips twisted in a way that promises retribution and pain and pleasure…so much pleasure. I swallow. I’m making things up in my head. Best to face this threat head-on. It’s what they taught us at the bureau after all. Never to give an inch. To always, always outwit your enemy.

Yep, all I need to do is think of him as a challenge, a threat to my body, my heart, my soul…nah! Not that.

Nobody gets to play with my feelings. Certainly not this full-of-himself, conceited Fae male. Don’t forget sexy. Did I mention mouthwatering powerhouse of dominance?

Moisture slicks my core and my pussy clenches.

I’ve only seen Tristan once and already his features are etched on my brain.

My belly quivers. I set my jaw.

I cannot give in to this insane chemistry that had flared between us from the second our eyes had connected. My children, I need to put them first.

I have forty-eight hours to betray my to-be work partner so I can rescue my flesh and blood. I bite the inside of my cheek.

I need to win this Alpha-hole’s trust and get him to where Boris is holding my kids. I reach out to them on the psychic plane and sense their energies. Their pulse thuds in my head. The girls are fine, for now. But time is running out.

I need to lure Tristan to where Boris has taken them.

Which means I can’t give in to Tristan’s demands. To do so will mean I have no influence over him. I need him to want me, hunger for me enough to pursue me.

I must show this arrogant alpha male that his presence has no effect on me.

I square my shoulders and swivel around. My throat goes dry.

His massive, beautifully sculpted chest life fills my vision. Mistake. Mistake. All my senses jangle. My instincts go into overdrive. The heat from his body slams into my chest, and I gasp. It’s as if his presence is a physical force that weighs me down, pushes me back, and forces my thighs to clench.

My insides stutter.

I press my booted feet into the ground. I am a trained soldier, a dragon shifter. I, too, belong to a species of hunters. But nothing has prepared me for this hunk of one hundred percent pure masculine male who blocks my path. I swerve around him, and he simply moves with me.

“Let me pass.” I jut out my chin.

“Cute.”

“Excuse me?” Rage builds a slow burn low in my belly. It’s mixed with something else. Lust? No, it’s more than that. It’s a primal need to throw myself at him, crawl under his skin, and wallow in his essence and ask him to take me and rut me. Bloody hell, I have obviously gone without the company of the opposite sex for too long.

“Didn’t think you’d be afraid to look me in the eye.”

“Am not.” I wrap my arms around my waist. My elbow grazes his abs. Rock-hard. Sculpted. Hard. So hard. Holy hell.

“You said something, princess?”

“Don’t call me that.” I raise my gaze to his.

Searing blue and molten sapphire stare back at me. Glittering eyes, that can sear me, swallow me up, grind me down, and shatter me. Cold burns in them, and yet his pupils are black. Hard. Unforgiving. Everything about this man is uncompromising.

“What should I call you then?”

“Nothing.” I toss my head. “You can call me precisely nothing.”

“That’s going to be difficult, considering we are going to be together for an extended period of time, you capisce?” One side of those gorgeous lips lifts up in a smirk.

No man has the right to be so lethal. He’s sex on a stick, and I want to spear myself on him.

My cheeks flush. “Now what, you’re Italian?”

“Only when it comes to my preferred choice of cuisine when I cook.” His voice is serious. Does he know something I don’t?

“Wasn’t aware that this was a social call.” All my instincts tingle. This man is up to something, but what?

“That’s where you’re wrong. I wanted to invite you to dinner. My place.”