The Jaguar's Arranged Mate: A Paranormal Shifter Romance

BOOK: The Jaguar's Arranged Mate: A Paranormal Shifter Romance
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THE JAGUAR'S

ARRANGED MATE

A PARANORMAL SHIFTER ROMANCE

 

 

JADE WHITE

 

 

Copyright
©2015 by  Jade White

All rights reserved.

 

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About This Book

 

Miera Artemis is a female Were-Jaguar of the Blood Roses pack but she has been pledged to mate with a male Were-Jaguar named Beric from rival pack, the Teal Warriors.

With danger looming it is hoped that this arranged mating can help the two packs to unite against a common enemy and protect the Jaguar bloodline for generations to come.

It is extremely important that Miera and Beric consummate this arrangement as soon as possible however, Miera is living with a secret that might make this much harder than anyone previously anticipated....

Read on to discover how an amazing story of reluctant mates blossoms into an epic tale full of adventure, love and romance!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                           
CHAPTER ONE

C
HAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

Kathy Clearwater cleared her throat as she knocked on Beric’s open door. “Excuse me, but your father wishes to speak with you.”

Beric Noca glanced up from his laptop. He had been looking up drainage issues, something he desperately wanted a break from, but his father had been as grumpy as a bear lately.
Or a crab.

He snorted at the mental image of his father shifting into a prickly crab with a bright red shell. His father, alpha of the were-jaguars pack the Teal Warriors, would tear him apart if he knew what he was thinking.

Kathy, one of the underlings his father favored, stared at him strangely. Like most were-jaguars, she had golden eyes. She was twenty, and pretty, but Beric had never seen her as anything more than a yes-dog to his father. She worshiped the ground his father walked on, and that was enough to churn Beric’s stomach. Their alpha was a capable leader, but his father lacked in the parental department, never understanding or willing to listen or give matters on anything personal, only those pertaining to the pack.

“I’m coming.” Beric closed his laptop. The sewage problem would have to wait.

The alpha’s quarters were right next door to the apartment he lived in with the other higher members within the pack. The compound they lived in was, for the most part, self-sufficient. They didn’t like having to rely on the help of others to survive. Their food they either planted or hunted, and everyone within the Teal Warriors pack did something to help the common good. All-in-all, they were a well-oiled machine. Beric’s father ensured they were able to live happy and full lives. Life was good.

At least, it was when his mother wasn’t pressuring him to pick a good were-jaguar girl to settle down with.

Or when his father wasn’t giving him demeaning tasks, such as cleaning up the drainage system.

Or when his friends weren’t giving him a hard time about his one day being alpha and how he shouldn’t forget them when he was the big cheese.

Honestly, he didn’t want any of that. Marriage? He wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t in the mood to settle down just yet. While he enjoyed several short-lived relationships, no were-jaguar had caught his eye, which was just as well, since his father would want to have a hand in who Beric married, and as alpha, he was well within his right to do just that.
For my son or daughter, my heir, I’ll let him or her choose. Hopefully, he or she will grow up to be mature and can be trusted to make his or her own match that will benefit the pack, make it stronger.

Another thing he didn’t want any part of? Sewage. The why of that should be self-explanatory.

And as for his being alpha, well, that might not be too terrible, although he doubted his father would die any time soon. His father was built more like a bull than a jaguar, more muscles than fat despite being in his late forties. He was fierce and proud and strong.

From the looks Kathy kept shooting him, Beric knew he was going too slowly for his father’s liking. He picked up the pace and breezed through the open door of the house that contained the alpha’s quarters. Bypassing the elevator, he took the stairs three at a time and climbed up to the top level, the fifth floor. His father had expanded the alpha’s dwelling place shortly after he’d taken over the position from his own father fifteen years ago.

To her credit, Kathy kept his frantic pace. The door to his father’s conference room was open, and Beric knocked on the door as he popped his head in. “You sent for me?”

His father was staring out of the ceiling-to-floor windows, his hands clasped behind his back, an imposing figure even from the back. He liked to be able to see the entire compound from up here. On his heel, he pivoted around, his hands still behind his back. “I did. Kathy, thank you. Please leave us.”

She nodded, smiling shyly at the alpha, and shut the door.

Beric’s father gestured for him to take a seat, but when he realized his father wasn’t going to sit too, Beric remained standing. He even mimicked his father’s pose, standing straight and rigid.

His father cleared his throat. “I’m afraid I have some troubling news.”

“Concerning?” Beric stood even straighter. His father had a tendency to get right to the point, but now, he was running a hand through his short hair, something he never did. His father never showed any sign of weakness, and Beric guessed he didn’t even when he was alone. Beric hadn’t noticed the small amount of gray mixed in his father’s dark until now. His father was getting older despite his physique. A distressing thought. Despite their differences, Beric wanted his father to live for a long time.

“Have you heard of the Brutal Claws?” His father leaned on the large oval table that filled the conference room.

Beric nodded, a little hurt by the question. Every were-jaguar knew of the Brutal Claws. “Of course.”

The Brutal Claws were just that—brutal were-jaguars who used their claws to slash through anyone who didn’t cave to their demands or refused to be assimilated into their horde of greed, murder, and sin. That his father was mentioning them could not be good.

“They give were-jaguars a bad name,” Beric added.

“And when they aren’t working on worsening their reputation…” His father shuffled through the papers on the table and carefully unrolled a map. His thick palms held the paper down. “They are sniffing around our perimeter.”

Beric frowned. “Since when? And why would they want anything to do with us?”

The Teal Warriors numbered in the low two hundreds. A fairly decent-sized pack, but nothing compared to the Brutal Claws that almost counted three thousand from all of the other packs they had absorbed over the long, bloodied years. They were like a blight or plague in the illustrious history of the were-jaguars.

“Why doesn’t matter. For the past week, our nighttime patrols have overheard them, seen them, but they have not yet engaged. It’s only a matter of time.”

“We’re too small for them to worry about us,” Beric protested. Was the other pack watching them? He had to admit, he didn’t like what he was hearing at all.

“Yes, if they wanted to have us join. But…” His father stared at him, the lines around his lips tightening as he scowled. “They didn’t bother to accept anyone from the last two packs they attacked. They wiped them completely off the face of the earth. Not a single Dawn Hunter or Scarred Prowler still exists.”

Beric swallowed hard and tried to keep any sign of fright from his face. The Dawn Hunters had lived two counties over from them, sharing the great state of Arizona with them and a few other packs. They would have made a formidable force if combined with the Brutal Claws. Although there were—had been—only a hundred of them, the Dawn Hunters were smart and resourceful, and they had already held their ground against another much larger pack that had tried to overtake them just two years ago.

As for the Scarred Prowlers, they were strong as well, sneaky, and would have made perfect spies. Several of them were rumored to have once worked for the CIA. If the Brutal Claws wanted to be able to infiltrate more packs, it would have made more sense to have the Scarred Prowlers join their ranks, not kill them.

“Why?” Beric asked, the word catching in his throat. He didn’t think he scared easily, but he was frightened right now.

“Ever since Andreas took over the Brutal Claws two decades ago, he has become more and more obsessed with power and domination. They aren’t content with just New Mexico. They’ve gained footholds in both Colorado and Oklahoma and are now looking here in Arizona.”

“This Andreas, what does he want?”

“No one knows for sure. Some think he means to be the only alpha. Others think they want to eventually take over all fifty states. Who knows? The man is obviously crazy, but he’s also brilliant. He knows what he’s doing. He will not hesitate long to strike, now that we are on their radar.”

“We’ll be ready,” Beric promised him. Already his fright was transforming into anger, and he wanted to do everything he could to ensure his people’s safety.

“Easy to say. Not easy to do.” His father jerked his chin toward the map.

Beric approached and stared at the detailed lines and drawings.

“Here and here…” The father pointed to two sections of their metal fence that surrounded their compound. “These are our weakest locations. They need to be fortified.”

“Right away.” It had been… wait? Five years? Six? More since they had last felt threatened. If not longer. The sight of their fence, which was eight feet tall and rather thick, was almost enough alone to deter their enemies. Still, they tried to penetrate it in two locations, but they had held them back. The repairs had been minimal, but those areas did remain the weakest spots of the fence.

“We’ll also need to double our guards and see to it that we have enough body armor and guns and bullets. Blades, too.” His father rubbed his chin, and half of the map started to curl. He flattened it again. “They were spotted near the south entrance and to the east.” The alpha stared at Beric, his eyes darker than their normal light golden hue. “I’ll be honest, Beric. I don’t like this. I don’t like it at all.”

His father trusted him enough to show him his worry. If the situation wasn’t so dire, Beric might appreciate that more. “Do you think they mean to eradicate us, too?” he asked, a bad taste brewing in the back of his throat.

“Eradicate, assimilate… Is there a difference between the two?” His father could not sound more bitter.

“Not really.” Beric stared at the positions on the map where the Brutal Claws had been discovered. Suddenly, he wished that the sewage issue was the only one they had to contend with.

*

Miera Artemis gazed out at the nighttime forest surrounding their village. Tonight, everything seemed calm and peaceful. It had last night, too, as well as the previous night. The night before that, though, one of their were-jaguar brothers, Thom Ross, had been captured during guard duty. The next morning, they had found his body, his torso ripped to shreds. There was no doubting who had done such a thing. The Brutal Claws were closing in.

Not on her watch, though.

As the hours ticked by, she strained to hear anything behind the faint music the nocturnal insects sang. Nothing. Everything behind her in the village was peaceful, and beyond seemed peaceful enough, too.

Still, she didn’t let down her guard, not even when the sky changed from black to gray to pale pink and yellows as the sun began to rise. Once she could see its entire yellow face, she headed back into the heart of their town, Riverwalk. Another night with peace. How many more would they have?

Along the way to her house, she passed by Silas, her replacement. He halted beside her and rubbed his bald head. “Your father was asking for you.”

She dipped her head, unsurprised to hear this. “Thank you.”

“All calm?”

“Quiet for now.” For whatever that was worth. They had several guards all around the perimeter, and during the day, they mounted scouting parties, but even so, Miera didn’t feel safe, and she doubted any of the other Blood Roses were-jaguars did.

Silas nodded, but she saw the way his fingers fluttered by his side. Hers did the same when she was wishing for her claws. But a battle against the Brutal Claws, a war with them if they should survive a battle long enough for there to be a second one… well, the odds of them winning, of ever knowing peace again, was almost non-existent.

“Be safe,” she said to him, even though not even the Brutal Claws would make a move during the day, not if they wanted to attack in their were form, which was by far their preferred method of combat. Although they were certainly bold enough to, and they did have the numbers to do whatever they wanted, human ignorance be damned.

Miera hurried to the central building in their town, past the fountain of two jaguars frolicking in the water. This building was the largest one in all of Riverwalk. Only the mess hall was wider.

Inside, she went to the third floor, where her father and all of the other council members were present, sitting in their customary seats around the circular table. She slid into her spot at the right hand of her father, the alpha of the Blood Roses.

“Your report?” her father asked instead of greeting her.

That was always his style, and she didn’t mind. Her father was too busy to play favorites, not that she wanted special treatment for being his oldest child. “Nothing to report.”

“Good.” Her father nodded and glanced around the table. “But we know they’re out there. They’re watching us.”

“Waiting,” Jericho Gravestone said. He was thirty-one, already a seasoned warrior, and his prowess in the field was what had earned him a seat on the council. Not every pack had one, Miera knew, but she thought a council made the most sense. No one, not even alphas, could make the best decision every time without aid. “But for how long? And we cannot allow Thom Ross’s murder to go unanswered.”

Harry Peace snorted. “We aren’t in a position to answer a murder at the hands of the Brutal Claws.”

Peace was a man of worries and anxiety. The voice of caution, her father called him. Miera thought he was more of a coward than anything, but even she had to think Jericho was being a little brazen and arrogant if he thought they could stand a chance against the full horde of the Brutal Claws. That road was paved with bones and blood and unburied bodies.

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