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  Twice Mated

  Magically Mated, Book Four

  PENELOPE WYLDE

  Copyright Notice

  Copyright © 2019 Penelope Wylde. All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to [email protected]

  http:/www.penelopewylde.com

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Edited by Em Petrova

  Cover Designer: Bookin’ It Designs

  Contents

  Title

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Epilogue

  Hard Irish Mobster: Chapter 1

  Books by Penelope

  Mailing List

  About Penelope

  We were never meant to be. My two enforcers want to prove otherwise.

  I'm in way over my head in more ways than one.

  I have no business walking the halls of the Silver Circle this late at night or stealing ancient spell books. What can I say? The elders stole from me first and I want my magical powers back.

  But that's not where the real problems begin. No, that's coming for me in the form of two alpha enforcers with one purpose: to claim all of me for themselves before it's too late.

  Two devilishly hot, alpha AF and utterly possessive men who like to share. They know the power of their knee-weakening kisses and use those rough hands to bend me to their wills.

  Yeah, they’re trouble all right.

  Did I mention they're off-limits? I've learned the hard way witches and werewolves are forbidden to mate, but try telling that to my enforcers. They fight for and protect what's theirs and they've made it clear that's me.

  But it's never that simple. Before I can wear their marks, they'll have to save me from death's doorstep.

  I may not have my powers but being soul bound is a magic of its own and it might be the only thing that saves us in the end.

  Author’s Naughty Note: She's on a mission to save her magic. They're determined to keep her from dying. Forbidden love between this witch and her wolf shifters is nothing short of utterly explosive. You know this is going to be a quick, action-packed dirty read dripping with sweetness and just enough naughty to make you blush. Oh, and there are dragons! As always with a Penelope Wylde book, this dark one is safe with a HEA & NO CHEATING!

  Chapter One

  Eve of winter solstice

  Blood and black magic.

  The stench rolled over him and stung with every inhale of frigid winter air. No mistaking death. He knew the evil that lurked in the darkness all too well for it to hide from him.

  It drained the energy from the air for three damn counties and clawed at Grayson’s frayed nerves no matter how much distance he put between them and the dumpsite. His throat grew tight and he swallowed past the disgusting, lingering copper aftertaste of standing over a dead body for eighteen-plus hours.

  As enforcers, they’d been called out to give answers and all they had to offer were more damn questions.

  The most pressing question was how could a dead man kill again?

  His gut turned in on itself. Harlow. How had she gotten herself tangled up in this? Moonlight struggled to push through the ominous dark clouds that hung over them but failed.

  Petal kissing metal, Grayson gunned the 4x4 and white-knuckled the wheel as he hugged the outside line of a deep curve making their way back to Sleepy Briar.

  Black ice caught the back wheels and sent him and Zane skidding across the dark, deserted road. With the storm rolling in if they took a nosedive off the side, no one would find them till the spring thaw. He eased up a notch.

  Winding back mountain roads were the fastest if not the most dangerous route through the sleepy town. He knew every turn and dip in the road that led them home. With a pop of the clutch, Grayson down-shifted and backed off the accelerator, turning the wheel in the opposite direction, praying to whoever might be watching that the tires caught traction.

  Centuries of alpha shifter blood coursed through his veins, and right now he’d sacrifice every last drop if it meant they could save her. Like a bomb clock ticking down, Grayson’s gut tightened with every second. Teeth gnashed together, he worked through the jagged pain as tarnished magic tore into him. Anger fueled the need to drive his fist into the nearest—anything. But in all honesty, it wouldn’t curb the savage urge to sink his teeth and claws into the man behind the heinous crimes they’d witnessed tonight.

  Reluctantly they’d left Harlow alone last night while out on pack business. After arriving on the scene, what they witnessed left them beyond horrified. He had the strongest stomach a shifter could have, and it still made him queasy thinking about the poor human woman and what the beast of a man left of her.

  It fell on them to spread the nightmarish news and tell the alpha of two packs that a werewolf serial killer had risen from the dead and apparently had an agenda.

  “I know what you’re thinking. I’m thinking about it too. We can’t force her in a cell or lock her away even if it is for her own good.” Zane scraped a hand down his face and peered out the passenger window into the blackened night. “How the hell are we supposed to keep our mate safe when she’s working behind enemy lines?” He slammed a fist down on his knee.

  Grayson kept his gaze glued to the road, but he got where his friend was coming from.

  Zane, the other male half of their unconventional trio, flicked his phone on and pressed replay. Dulcet tones filled the small cabin of the pickup, and their sexy librarian’s usual laid-back tone sounded hurried and hushed as though she didn’t want someone to overhear her.

  Zane sat forward and held a finger up to signal the sound he wanted Grayson to hear. “Something has come up. Don’t wait up for me. I know I said I would bide my time, but I can’t. I hope you both understand.”

  Zane angled toward him, a look of pure horror all over his face. “There. Did you catch that?” Dread filled his words and Zane hit replay for the second time before it finished. He positioned the phone between them. On the edges of his hearing, hidden behind Harlow’s voice, five distinct rings echoed. One for each of the earthly elements as Harlow once explained, signaling witches and warlocks of the approaching winter solstice and the magical annual gathering.

  She thought no one was around to witness the plan she’d brewed up to reclaim her magical powers from the Silver Circle. That had to be it. How else could he explain her recklessness and still keep sane?

  “She never left the Silver Circle’s palace.” Grayson dropped the clutch and took another curve that had them kissing their own asses. Whatever their witch was up to left her in more danger than she knew.

  Instead of hitting replay this time, Zane let the message continue. “Come ou’ ya lit’le bitch, I c’n smell ya and I c’n smell ’em too.”

  The familiar voice of the killer shot ice through his veins, and hearing it for the second time didn’t lessen the blow any. No amount of prayer would lessen the truth
either.

  “One more time.”

  Zane complied and Grayson leaned in.

  As enforcers, they were trained to deal with mangled bodies, but the horror they found tonight had a different vibe from anything they’d ever dealt with before.

  The killer not only returned but for some reason had Harlow in his sites and they were miles away from helping her. Grayson scrubbed a hand over his day-old, thick stubble. “We can’t lose her, Zane. Fuck. This shit you can’t make up.”

  “We don’t know the Silver Circle has anything to do with the murder.”

  “If he’s there with her I’m not willing to play detective and wait around for more clues or for them to make another move.”

  “Me either. But until we have her close, we play it cool.”

  “Copy that.”

  Zane replayed the last bit of the message again, and the raspy, gurgled voice carried over the speaker in a mesh of words that ran together. As if speaking didn’t come naturally and words had no business falling from his mouth.

  In their world that meant one thing. When a shifter spent most of his time in wolf form, speaking abilities faded after a few months. At the one-year marker or thereabout, all human instinct melted into the habits of their beast. Eventually, the poor fool would be more wolf than man within a year and a half tops. The last known case had happened centuries ago when powerful warlocks captured numerous weres—dragon and wolf alike—during the bloody battles and ensnarled them with a spell that prevented any prisoner from shifting back to human. After a few months of torture, what came out the other side were brainwashed beasts unleashed on their own kind with orders to kill, all this under the command of sinister masters.

  Grayson swallowed a curse. Echoes of the recent past pelted him with a one-two combo that had him nauseated. “I just... there’s no freaking way, man. We killed him. Saw the blood and buried the body fuckin’ kinda killed him. You don’t come back from being six feet under.”

  “That we know of. Who the hell knows what the Silver Circle’s been up to behind their thick walls and mysterious magic gatherings.”

  Grayson ground his back molars, gritting out his worse fear. “Harlow does.” She researched and reported as the Silver Circle required of her on matters of law while keeping an eye on their comings and goings. The way Grayson understood it, Harlow continued on in her role as if they hadn’t violated her by stripping her powers away for illegal use of magic, and worked to regain their trust. She’d watched their moves, calculated their defenses and planned to strike when they’d least expected it.

  He loved her spontaneous nature, but this time it could get her killed.

  She played the quiet, handled and subdued little witch by day and by night she stayed after hours searching for the hidden tomes the ancients were whispered to have that held every spell and counter-spell known to the magical realms.

  So they said. He believed Harlow, but he didn’t make it a habit to step in the middle of the Circle’s law. Something he planned on changing.

  “Easier proving the fucking Easter Bunny is real than finding a way to prove the warlocks had anything to do with the murders tonight.”

  Zane's thoughts mirrored his own.

  Tension compacted against his chest and made every breath harder than the last.

  Neither of them could wrap their heads around this shit enough to find any real answers.

  Their witch worked as a librarian within the palace walls and for the highest of warlocks—Royals that considered themselves gods amongst mortals.

  A few months before, she’d helped a human with spellwork, some love potion, and the Silver Circle saw it as breaking the law. Soon after, they stripped Harlow of all her powers and left her with one option: work within the walls of their fucking gothic-looking castle prison or be exiled.

  Just the thought of her possibly stumbling onto something she wasn’t supposed to see sent a new wave of fear to ride him hard.

  Zane played the damn message again and Harlow’s voice jerked Grayson out of the past.

  “I...I... someone’s coming. Gotta go.”

  Spine rigid, the muscles along his neck bunched. Whispered warnings rattled in the back of his mind.

  “I can’t do this again. We lose her and that’s it.”

  “You can’t think like that.” Zane braced for the last curve that spiraled down to the small town of Sleepy Briar.

  Finally.

  Thick, towering pines stood sentinel over the stretch of road that led along the backside of the small Maine town. Scattered houses dotted the hilly landscape, spirals of smoke the only sign anyone still lived in the quiet town.

  Large evergreen branches bowed from the recent heavy snowfall, reached across the two-lane highway and gave travelers a clear path, for a few miles anyway. He gunned the accelerator.

  “How long since she left that message?”

  Zane gave a couple of flicks over his cell phone screen and answered in a strained voice. “Almost two damn hours.”

  For once he’d like to get the upper hand.

  “I know what I scented, and so do you.”

  “Ghosts don’t kill and that woman’s body smelled like him from head to toe.”

  Grisly images of the victim, a petite woman with her throat torn out and bite marks along her entire body, filled his mind. No matter how hard he tried, nothing would wash away the senseless violence.

  Two years ago a series of murders struck two local packs and took everyone by surprise, leaving shifter families terrified to leave pack lands.

  Aidan, Sleepy Briar’s pack alpha, called in help from their alpha and that’s where they came in. In the end, seven shifters in as many days had died alongside three human women before they’d caught the feral shifter responsible for the killings. Deep in blood lust, they discovered markings on his body that suggested a warlock or witch had tortured him, but their alphas counseled against sharing the details to keep the peace. Now he didn’t know what the hell was going on, but if Harlow got pulled into this, a fucking force of dragons and shifters wouldn’t hold him or Zane back from seeking vengeance.

  Blood lust did not happen overnight. If they were dealing with that again, once came off as a coincidence, twice was a wake-up call.

  When a shifter consumed too much blood, their system did one of two things. It either boosted the human instincts and calmed the beast with logical thinking, which separated shifters from wild wolves. This kept them from hunting humans as savage animals.

  The other, they turned feral and killed everything in sight, desperate for more blood before their latest kill had time to cool.

  Now they had a whole new angle to consider. Mind-bending. If history repeated itself, there would be more than just otherworldlies caught in the crossfire. Humans were targets now too. Since coming out three decades ago, no one would be safe if the Silver Circle reopened an old wound.

  Grayson took a hard left and hit gravel. Tires slung snow and pebble-packed bombs as he made record time up the long drive that led to Harlow’s cabin.

  “We check her cabin first, then make a plan from there. Agreed?”

  Before the truck came to a full stop, Zane had the door open. Guess that meant yes.

  Bone cracked, skin shifted to fur as his best friend freed his beast, forcing his own wolf close to the surface. Power surged and his muscles grew strained, but he forced his wolf back in case Harlow needed him. His wolf growled, clawed at him to run and seek out the enemy; tear them apart until blood paid the debt owed their mate.

  Grayson clenched his teeth and fisted his hands to ground himself. With a better grip on his control, he turned to Zane’s wolf. “I can smell him. He followed her here. I’ll go to her. You take the perimeter.” Already in motion, he tracked the white fur of Zane’s wolf as he disappeared into the dense woods surrounding Harlow’s place. “Good hunting, friend.”

  A small pool of light spilled through the thin curtains to cast a glow over the entrance. He pushed throug
h the snow and in a few steps shoved the door all the way open. Standing in the middle of the room, his heart stopped. Harlow withered on the floor as her body convulsed from an invisible force that ate at her.

  In two steps he crossed the room and wrapped his arms around Harlow.

  “Please don’t let this be happening.” The twisted bastard had already been here. Harlow’s convulsions calmed and Grayson stretched her limp body out on the floor, covering her with the small throw blanket from the nearby couch. At least she still drew air. But why? How? Something didn’t add up.

  “What happened?” Zane rushed in, pulling on his jeans, and hobbled over as he slipped on one unlaced boot followed by the other. Freezing winter air clung to him along with the killer’s scent. He turned to Zane for confirmation.

  Anger darkened his expression. “He was here, but the fresh snow is making quick work of diluting his trail. Gotta go now while I can still pick up his scent.” Before he could finish his words, Zane looked down and froze.

  In the dim light from the tableside lamp, Zane fell to his knees beside them and reached across Grayson. “Her heartbeat is faint and her breathing is shallow, but she’s alive. Did he do this?”

  Grayson shook his head. “Anything he touches dies. So I don’t think so. She’s done something or taken something from the looks of it. Could be his work, but not his MO.” With swift movements, Grayson ran his hands along her neck and inspected her body for any external injuries hidden from sight just to be sure.

  Zane grabbed her hand and moved to lift her body. “There’s old magic at play here. It grates on the senses and this level of power is way outta our league. There’s no one that can help her besides her sisters. We have to move now.”

  Grayson agreed. At first, she looked so calm, peaceful. If he hadn’t witnessed the horror, he’d say she was in a deep sleep.

  In all his years as an enforcer, he’d never dealt with witch’s magic. Shifters possessed a different kind of power. Their source of magic tied into the moon and not the ley lines as a witches’ did.