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Mated in Forbidden
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Mated in Forbidden
Alphas & Alchemy: Fierce Mates Book Five
Keira Blackwood
Liza Street
Contents
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
A Taste of Forever in Forbidden
Also by Keira Blackwood and Liza Street
About the Authors
Copyright © 2020 Keira Blackwood & Liza Street
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any actual persons, places, or events is coincidental. All characters in this story are at least 18 years of age or older.
The cover utilizes stock images licensed by the author. The model(s) depicted have no connection to this work or any other work by the author.
Introduction
Forbidden, Kentucky—where mates meet, and monsters make mayhem.
Alphas & Alchemy: Fierce Mates combines the worlds of Keira’s Alphas & Alchemy and Liza’s Fierce Mates.
Chapter 1
Caleb
The woman sitting across the booth from me in Hellfire Bar & Grill could barely fit into the seat. Her hard stomach pressed against the table.
“You look good,” I said to her. “Pregnancy suits you.”
The truth was, I wasn’t sure I recognized her. Jill was younger than me, but it couldn’t have been more than a couple of years between us. We’d probably gone to Forbidden High together. Her hair was the kind of blond that likely came from a bottle, and it curled in gentle waves around her shoulders. Her make-up was impeccable, but she didn’t use a lot of it. She didn’t need to, because her skin practically glowed. Blue eyes, set beneath dark blond brows, showed intelligence mixed with a smidge of annoyance.
“You played soccer, didn’t you?” I asked.
She blinked. “What?”
“At Forbidden High.”
“Um, yeah.”
“Thought so.” I grinned, feeling proud of my good memory.
The door opened. I could see those who entered and exited clearly, just over Jill’s shoulder. A couple with a flailing toddler headed out, leaving the restaurant a hell of a lot quieter than it had been.
After they left, in stepped James O’Malley.
“More importantly,” Jill said, emphasizing each word, “we need to talk about the baby. Your baby.”
“Right,” I said, still trying to do the math. She had to be seven or eight months along. “I’m just trying to remember what could’ve gone wrong. I don’t remember a condom breaking or anything.”
“My OB-GYN says they have a two percent failure rate at preventing pregnancy.”
I shrugged. Then it was probably about time I’d had one fail. If I’d screwed around with a hundred women in this town, and many of them more than once, it was a wonder Jill was the only pregnant baby mama sitting across from me in this diner.
Then again, doubts rose in my mind. I wanted to ask her if she was certain the baby was mine, but that would’ve been supremely uncool.
“Why’d you wait so long to tell me?” I asked.
Her eyes flashed. “I just found out last week.”
It was my turn to blink in surprise. Last week? “Surely you’d have noticed…” I waved in the general direction of her protruding stomach. “You’d have figured it out before last week?”
“No, I didn’t. I wasn’t pregnant last week. Last week was when we had sex.”
Impossible. I hadn’t been with anyone in a week—a fact which had been irritating before, but now was puzzling me. Why wasn’t I out at the Watering Hole every night, searching for the next woman to warm my bed? Nothing had been the same since I’d been magically aged by a malevolent spirit. I’d been an old man for the space of a couple of days.
Everyone said something had happened between me and Moira O’Malley, but neither of us had any recollection of it. After the spell had been broken, James O’Malley had been extra pissed at me, with darker than the usual threats about staying away from his sister. I didn’t remember anything happening between me and Moira, but I didn’t remember anything at all that had happened while I’d been trapped in a geriatric body.
As if the bastard could sense my passing thought about his sister, his hard gaze flashed to me from across the room. His lips curled into a sneer as he masticated a bulging mouthful of what I could only guess was pie, given his weird obsession with baked goods. Cheeks puffed out like a squirrel with two acorns, he lifted two fingers in front of his eyes and then pointed at me. I wasn’t sure if I should quake in my boots or laugh in his face.
“You were with me,” Jill reiterated. “Last week. We had sex. Now I’m pregnant.”
Okay, Jill was crazy. I knew it was a dickish thing to call an ex hook-up “crazy.” I also knew I was a dick.
I also knew she was actually crazy. There was no way that we’d had sex last week—my memory wasn’t always great about who I screwed, but it wasn’t that bad. During my memory lapses, I’d been locked down in the B&B, someone watching me at all times. I hadn’t slept with anyone since that time at the B&B. And also, there was no way that if we’d had sex last week, she would show up eight months pregnant seven days later.
“You’re such an asshole,” she said. “I can tell you don’t believe me. Here. Here.”
She took her phone from her purse and tapped the screen a few times, then thrust it into my face.
An image took up the frame. I had my shirt off and she was in her bra and we were cuddling—cuddling—on what looked like her bed. I was kissing her cheek and one of my hands was just beneath one of her tits.
She was very much not pregnant in the photo.
“Look,” she said, tapping the image. “Here’s the time-stamp on the photo.”
Sure enough, it showed last week. But I wasn’t a total idiot, I knew those kinds of things could be faked.
“Okay, Jill,” I said. “Okay. That is us in that photo.”
I had zero recollection of the moment, but I couldn’t deny the evidence. She was confused. The date was definitely wrong. I’d gone straight home after work, fixed a broken screen door for Ms. Cortez, and nursed a beer before bed. Alone. Maybe she was totally nuts about this accelerated pregnancy. But it was me in the picture. I could sense she wasn’t lying, because as a shifter, I always knew. She truly believed I was the father, and her belief would have to be enough moving forward.
It was time for me to be responsible.
Which was a hilarious idea. I could just imagine Moira’s laughter, or anyone else’s, at the thought of me being a dependable dad-type guy.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll help out. What do you need?”
She sniffled and I looked up in alarm.
“You were so much nicer last week,” she said in a voice choked with emotion. “Kind, considerate. Now you look like you’re going to open your wallet and give me some money to go away.”
I had in fact been reaching for the wallet, but I stopped and acted like I was itching my ass instead.
�
�I’m going to try to do the right thing, okay?” I said.
She nodded and blinked rapidly, probably trying to hold in tears. Oh fuck, I hated it when people cried. Tears were never a good thing. Men, women, kids—it didn’t matter. When the waterworks started, instinct told me to run.
Oh hell, what was I going to do when Jill had her baby? I shivered. Those fragile little gremlins cried the most.
Chapter 2
Moira
Cold, dark, industrial—the equipment trailer was starting to look mighty appealing. There was a little cot, plenty of space to sleep. Since my oldest brother Declan had moved into the B&B with his human mate Daphne, no one was using it. There wasn’t much else in here, only a mini fridge and supplies to make the world’s shittiest coffee. But there was no Brody.
Also, there was no heat.
I flexed my fingers, stiff from the frigid morning air, and poured almond milk into the reusable cup I’d brought from home. The carton was suspiciously light.
A few measly drops hit the bottom of my cup.
No chance I was getting instant coffee to dissolve in that. And I’d only just opened the carton yesterday. I tossed the empty container, which clearly had my name on it, into the bin and opened the fridge again.
There was still plenty of milk. All four of my brothers drank regular milk. Why did men always have to be dicks?
I shut the fridge, flicked off the light, and headed out. Morning sun crept through the trees, pushing darkness from the sky.
Movement caught my attention. Delcan was on the porch swing, his dark hair wet and slicked back away from his face. Alpha of the Forbidden Pack and oldest of our sibling crew, Declan had a quiet confidence about him. His posture was relaxed and non-threatening, yet he still managed a demeanor of control. I could feel it in the air as I watched him sip on his hot cup of much better coffee with a smug look on his face. Though maybe I was just imagining the smugness.
I started heading in that direction when I heard the rumbling engine of an approaching truck. Each one of the O’Malley work trucks sounded a little different. This one was puttery, like it had a lingering cough that it just couldn’t shake. It had to be Finn.
“What’s wrong with you?” Declan asked.
I met him on the porch. “Nothing.”
It was the easier answer. I was agitated for a number of reasons. One—I’d woken two hours before sunrise to a slap in the face. My hand, slapping my face. There was shaving cream on my palm, and a feather next to my head.
Two—Brody ran away before I could show him exactly what I thought of his prank.
“Right.” Declan leaned back and gave me a look that said he knew better than to believe that. His lip twitched. “Does it have something to do with the mustache?”
I glared at him. “What mustache.”
He leaned forward on the swing and pulled his phone from his pocket. A blinding flash later, he turned his screen for me to see.
I looked like shit. My hair was a tangled mess that looked like the B&B’s vulture had made a nest up there. One of my eyes was squinted like I’d been caught in a half-sneeze. And I had a curly black mustache drawn on my upper lip.
“Motherf—”
“You didn’t know?” Declan asked, and pulled the phone away. “It looks like permanent marker.”
“Of course it does.” Since Declan, Finn, and James had moved out of the rental, it was just me and Brody. Without the three of them to torture, the youngest of my brothers had focused all of his destructive energy on me. Lucky girl.
I needed my own place, and fast. Maybe later today I’d call Brianne Smythe, see if she could show me some houses on the market.
The puttering engine shut off, and a truck door shut.
“Good morning.” Finn’s voice carried from behind me.
I turned to reply.
His eyes went wide. “Wow.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I said.
“Here.” Finn jogged over and offered his mug. “You need this more than me.”
There was a touch of concern in his pale green eyes. I wasn’t in any mood to deal with anyone feeling sorry for me.
“Daphne has coffee inside,” Declan said with a glance between the two of us.
“Great, thanks,” I said. It might have sounded bitchy, but I actually meant it. “Anyone hear from Brody or James?”
“Not yet,” Declan said.
Finn shook his head.
I listened for engines. None were coming, so they were running late. In theory, it didn’t matter. We’d just finished the final touches on the third floor of the B&B, so all that was left was more of the same in the upper floors. In practice, I was in no mood for anyone’s shit today.
I sent them both a text. You’re late. Guess who’s on sewer duty?
The septic system was long overdue for regular maintenance. That was before one of the B&B’s guests flushed some toy cars down the pooper. We were well beyond the maintenance phase of the problem, and treading into emergency territory. Gross, messy, smelly emergency territory.
Little dots filled the screen. I waited to see who was typing.
The dots disappeared. If I had to guess, James had something snotty to say and decided better of it. Good.
“Declan, you’ll be starting the—”
“Nope,” he said, cutting me off.
Here we go, another round of alpha versus boss. “You haven’t even heard what I want you to do yet.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “Daphne asked me to build raised beds for an herb garden. I’m doing that first.”
Tired of arguing, I looked to Finn. “Well then Finn, looks like you get to—”
My phone buzzed in my hand with an incoming call. I checked the screen. It was Yanovich. Brody and I had visited him in Redemption to put in a bid for converting the old silo he bought into his new home. It would be double the cost of building something new to transform the rusty tower, so naturally I wanted the job.
I held a finger up to my brothers and answered the phone. “O’Malley Construction.”
“Moira, it’s so good to hear your voice, my dear.”
“Mr. Yanovich, what can I do for you?” I asked, forcing my voice to hold a chipper quality I didn’t feel.
“If you still want the job, I’d love to have you convert my humble silo into a home.”
“Of course,” I said. “We can start right away.”
I looked at Declan and Finn, who both had their arms crossed. The look was completely different on them. Declan’s stance was impatient, even while he lounged on the porch swing. Finn was probably copying him without realizing.
“Great,” Mr. Yanovich said. “I look forward to it.”
I agreed that we looked forward to it too, said goodbye, and met my brothers’ crossed arms with my hands on my hips.
“Got the Redemption job?” Finn asked.
“Hell yeah we did.”
He offered me his fist for a little bump of victory. Celebrate the little things, maybe turn my mood around.
Declan’s expression remained unchanged.
I heard another engine approaching; this time it was James. Perfect timing.
“Change of plans,” I said. “Finn, you and James will go to Redemption to start the silo job.”
“All right,” Finn said. “But it’s a drive, and with just the two of us—”
“We’ll need subcontractors,” I said, nodding. “And I’ll put you up in a hotel if you’d like, or you can drive back and forth.”
Declan and Finn watched James park.
Finn squinted and looked back at me. “There’s that burger place—”
James climbed out of his truck, and joined the conversation like he’d been there from the start. “Between the Buns.”
“Yep. We’ll have to eat dinner there at least once,” Finn said. “Or every night, right James?”
James grunted something under his breath.
“Don’t tell me you aren’t in,” Finn said.
<
br /> James stopped at the bottom of the steps and glared at me. “I heard I’m stuck here on sewer duty.”
“Doody duty,” Declan said into his mug.
James shot him a death glare.
“Woman up,” I said. “You don’t want to be in trouble, don’t be late.”
“Woman up?” James turned his frown on me.
“That’s right,” I said. “Let’s be honest, which is the stronger sex?”
James didn’t answer.
“No one is going to argue,” Finn said. “We won’t risk getting in trouble.”
I knew he didn’t mean trouble with me, but their mates. Smart man. It was still crazy to me, more than all of the supernatural madness that had been going around, that three of my brothers had found their mates over the past few months. Only me and Brody were left single, and I knew it would be me who’d be last to find love.
With as much trouble as Brody caused, he was sweet and charming. I couldn’t wait for him to find someone to take care of him, someone who wasn’t me. While every year that passed made me more and more sure I was destined to turn into a spinster, growing crabbier and less willing to put up with anyone’s crap.
“You’ve seen Daphne with the flamethrower,” Declan said.
“Truth.” I nodded. She was a badass. “Anyway, change of plans. James, you’re going with Finn to run the Redemption job.”
James gave me a nod of acknowledgement.
“Okay then, get going.” I shooed them from the porch. “‘I’ll text you the details and get everything set up before you get there.”
Maybe that wasn’t possible. It wasn’t that long of a drive to Redemption. Still, once I got back to my home office, I could make some calls to get things in motion. In addition to hiring subcontractors for the Redemption job, there were permits to arrange, equipment rentals to book, and supplies to order.