Chapter 1
Lovely readers, this is Book #5 in the Bound by Fate series. Book #1, Flame and Fang (heavily updated and much better than the original!), is available on Galatea. Books 2-4 are on Inkitt. In order, they are, Potion and Power, Blood and Beauty, and Hex and Heart. I hope you enjoy the trials and tribulations of fated mates who can't quite believe their luck. Happy Reading!
“Az, it’s your father. He’s dead.”
Late-August sunset blazed orange and red over downtown Montreal and glinted off the Saint Lawrence River as it slipped around the island. At street level in the Old City, lights blinked on and illuminated the city’s mood change. Office workers with families fled from air-conditioned buildings to air-conditioned cars for the trip home. Singles looking to catch a quick dinner and the chance to complain about work to their friends flowed in the opposite direction to the many bars lining the street.
From his office on the thirty-second floor, Azriel Bernaud watched the sunset colors deepen. Venus started to shine just above the horizon. “The bastard has more security than the prime minister. It’s fake, another one of his lame attempts to irritate me.”
“It’s a text from Paquet.”
That made Azriel turn away from what was his favorite view. “Paquet?How?”
“I’m going to find out.”
Olivier Marcaux, his brother in all but blood and CTO of Bernaud Holdings, scowled at his mobile phone. “As much as you hate your family, Az, the message has the royal seal. Paquet says your father was killed and your brother injured in an assassination attempt. They’re at a hospital in Montreal. He’s sending royal guards to collect you.”
Azriel gritted his teeth against a flood of conflicting emotions. “Twenty-five years ignoring my existence and now he expects me to leap at his command.”
They both turned at the sounds of raised voices from the foyer outside the penthouse office. Olivier muttered “Merde,”and strode to the door. Azriel beat him to it.
Lise, his fifty-five kilo assistant, was unsuccessfully trying to detain a phalanx of over-muscled goons in ill-fitting suits from charging into his office.
Olivier growled. Azriel put a calming hand on his brother’s shoulder, and said in an even voice fretted with alpha command, “Stop.”
Only Olivier didn’t freeze. Azriel squeezed his shoulder again, silent apology for the discomfort of the full power of his compulsion.
“Lise,” he said, giving her arm a gentle squeeze and releasing her from his hold. “Are you hurt?”
She gulped air and backed away from the guards. “No, Monsieur Bernaud.”
“Then, would you be so kind as to get us all some coffee and bring it to the office? Our guests won’t be staying long, but we will show them hospitality.”
He smiled at Olivier’s muffled chuckle. Lise nodded, glaring as she sidled around the still-frozen guards.
Azriel folded his arms and released the guards from his hold.“Gentlemen, I take dim view of anyone being rude or, gods forbid, rough with any of my employees.”
“Your Highness, we are here on orders from Prime Minister Paquet and the High Council.”
“Neither of which have any meaning or significance to me.”
“You are in potential danger, your safety is paramount.”
“The only threat I see here is you six barging into my office and assaulting my assistant.”
Olivier’s phone rang. “Merde, Paquet is calling.”
“Put it on speaker.” He held out his hand for the phone. “This is Azriel Bernaud.”
“Your father is dead and your brother gravely injured after a targeted attack by vampires. Your blood is needed to heal the Crown Prince.”
“Why hello Monsieur Paquet. It’s been, what, over twenty years since you last deigned to speak to me?”
“Don’t be a fool, Azriel.”
“That’s ‘Your Highness’, Prime Minister.” He could almost hear the old goat’s teeth grinding. “As I recall, the High King was religious about banking his own blood for just such an occasion.”
Tooth grinding was now audible. “Regrettably, the High Court’s private supply of alpha blood was recently spoiled.”
Azriel shared a look with Olivier. “Sabotage?”
“Unfortunately, that was the conclusion of our internal investigation.”
“How did he die?”
“Did you not hear me say vampire? Exsanguinated, then his body was ripped apart.”
Azriel sucked in a breath. He’d hated the old bastard, father or no. But being sucked dry was an awful way to die.“And Thierry?”
“Critically injured. He’s at an Interspecies Council private clinic. The trauma expert treating him was sourced from a local hospital.”
“Human?”
“Werewolf.” Paquet’s voice turned sneering. “A mongrel of unknown parentage. Her medical reputation is spotless. But it pains me that one so unworthy is the best that can be found to treat your brother.”
Azriel made himself unclench his own jaw. “You used much the same words to describe me once.”
“An incident I can assure you I completely regret.”
Olivier stifled a rude comment with a cough.
“Now, Your Highness, will you permit my guards to escort you to this clinic so you can save your brother?”
“No.”
“What?”
Azriel nodded at the two werewolves who slipped silently into the foyer and with Olivier, wrestled the six royal guards out. “Text me the address. I will be there shortly. “
He cut the connection and stared at Olivier’s phone. Bernaud Holdings was a world leader in cybersecurity and data encryption. As CTO, Olivier was more outward-facing than Azriel, but still, how did Paquet get this number? He’d vowed never to hide from what had once been his family. Years of disinterest were apparently not enough to spare him being asked to save the brother that had tried to kill him.
The phone pinged with an incoming text. Olivier appeared at the door. “Address?”
Azriel nodded and tossed the phone. “This should be interesting. Let’s go save my brother.”
