Genre: Paranormal Romance

Nik Connal has lived his life in the shadows, on borrowed time. As a rogue, he was supposed to be killed the moment he was exiled from his birth pack, rejected by his father, and condemned by all who knew him. Instead of sinking into despair, he gathered a pack of others like him and forged his own path, determined to make a difference, outside the pack hierarchy, yet always determined to find a home for himself and his pack. He lived a life of lies, did things he hated, all for a greater good.

Until he came face to face with the mate he was forced to reject.

Isa Sinclair knows what it's like to be abused and tortured, to be at the mercy of those stronger than her. Now that she is the number three enforcer in the Chesapeake Pack, she takes her duties as protector seriously. When she is asked to help those wolves abused by the Saranac Alpha, she willingly accepts, until she is confronted by a ghost from her past, a ghost she never expected to see again.

As Nik and Isa confront the mating bond that ties them together, can they navigate the dangers of their present, and overcome the pain of their past to find a new future, healed and whole together? Or will they fall back into despair, alone and broken? Rejected.

Excerpt

A scent tinged with the bitterness of anger drifted to him, along with a hint of something he was more familiar with. Fear. It was acrid and sour to his nose, and he hated it. Over the past two years, he had become far too accustomed to it as Treadway’s enforcer and right arm. Even when he had tried to help people, they had watched him with wariness. He couldn’t wait for the peace and quiet and remoteness of the Alaskan wilderness, provided Caleb didn’t screw them over.

Another scent floated on the bitter one with tones of jasmine, rose, and sandalwood, notes embedded in his memory for the past decade but lost to him until recently. It made the wolf inside him lunge against the stranglehold he had placed on him, almost tearing loose.

Nik froze, his hands bracing the punching bag still, his body rigid and stiff. He didn’t dare turn around, afraid of scaring away the interloper.

“I didn’t expect to see anyone in here this late.” Her voice was husky and caressed his nerve endings, making him want something he would never have. His cock stirred, something he was quickly becoming accustomed to after years when it had seemed to have gone dormant.

“I couldn’t sleep.” He slowly turned around to face the female whose screams had haunted his nightmares since that horrible night, more than ten years ago. “I can go if you want the space.”

Isabelle Sinclair, third in the Chesapeake pack, stood in the gym doorway dressed in black leggings and a T-shirt. She hugged herself, betraying her tension despite her carefully blank face. She looked anywhere but at him, her gaze darting around the spacious room filled with workout equipment and sparring mats. Caleb had spared no expense for his enforcers, ensuring they were well-prepared for anything they faced on the job. Too bad Nik was slowly demolishing his stash of punching bags. He considered it his payment, since nothing else was coming to him or his team. At least not yet.

He held his breath as she seemed to consider her options. Then she straightened, her chin lifting as she met his gaze defiantly. “You don’t have to leave. I’m not afraid of you.”

He suppressed a smile and silently applauded her, the too-silent she-wolf who used to cower beneath the gazes of the males of the pack they had come from. “I never thought you were afraid of me. You will never have anything to be afraid of. I would never hurt you. I couldn’t.”

She snorted. “Bull. You forget, I know you, Nico. I’ve always known you. You may have the Council fooled with your reformed ways, but I grew up in your pack. I saw you. I know what’s in your blood. I know who you really are, deep down.”

Nik flinched, her words striking him like knives. She wasn’t wrong. He couldn’t exactly refute her words. He was Nico Constantine, son of one of the most traditional Alphas on the entire Council and one of the most brutal, save Treadway. His blood ran through Nik’s veins. His DNA had made Nik the man he was. His father’s actions had formed his entire early years. He’d made Nik, and, for worse, he was the voice inside of Nik’s mind and soul at all times, continuing the torment from his childhood.

Nik advanced on her slowly until he stood a few feet from her. “Believe me, I never forget who I am or where I came from. No one knows that better than I.” He let his gaze travel over her, the toned body, the fighter stance, the challenge in her gaze. “But you’re not the same Isabelle Sinclair from back then either, are you?”

Her lips curled in a snarl, her wolf rising to the surface, and his wolf pushed at the chains, eager to tangle with his mate. “My name is Isa.”

“And mine is Nik. Nik Connal. You’re not the only one who has changed, Isa.”

“Unlike you, I changed more than my name. I will never be a victim again, not of you. Not of anyone.” The fierceness in her tone made his wolf proud, glad she could defend herself.

“You never had to protect yourself from me. I never hurt you, not intentionally.” Of course, it was the unintentional pain that he wished he could take back, but hindsight was twenty-twenty.

She gave him a look of disbelief, then folded her arms in front of her, armor against him. “Whatever. I don’t even know why I’m here.”

He raised an eyebrow. How could she be so oblivious to the call of her wolf? Was she that disconnected from her wolf? Or did she hate him so much that she would rather live the life of a rejected mate with the bleeding hole where the bond was torn out? He would know. He’d spent the last decade with the raw, open wound, never expecting to find her again.

He’d let her go, never sought her out even though the bond would act like a homing device if he let it, but he’d respected her choices when she’d told him never to follow. However, the Goddess had other plans for them, bringing them together in the shitstorm of Treadway and their Supreme Alpha’s mess. Now, he had a second chance, and he wasn’t going to waste it. If she asked him to leave her alone, he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to do it.

He took another step forward, slowly, carefully, watching her for any sign of fear. He’d gotten good at watching for those indicators over the past two years and hated it every time he saw them. But instead of fear, he saw a flare of awareness.

“Don’t you know? Check your wolf, Isabelle. See what she says.”

Her eyes glowed gold for a moment as she sucked in a breath. “No.” She breathed the word, a hint of horror in the tone, and hope plummeted.

“Yes, Isabelle. We’re mates. The bond has reawakened, stronger than ever. The power can’t be ignored.”

She shook her head almost frantically. “The Goddess wouldn’t be this cruel to me twice. You rejected me. I was there. I felt you reject me.”

He rubbed his chest where the bond still ached, a dull seeping of energy, like a trickle of blood that he’d almost grown accustomed to over the years. But, with her nearness, the bond had flared to awareness and ached with a visceral pain, demanding that he claim her as his own. But he would never force her. He had vowed no one would force Isabelle again, not even him, and he stood by that.

“Clearly, it didn’t take,” he replied dryly.

Her eyes flashed fire. “Reject me. Now.”

“I don’t think that will work this time, baby. I think we have to figure a way around this and complete the mating.”

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About the Author

Sabrina Silvers began her writing career dreaming of elves, orcs, and hobbits in the fantasy section of her local library, looking in wardrobes for Narnia and Aslan, and hunting for gnomes in the forest. To her dismay, she never found any of them except between the pages of her books. So, she had to go out and create them for herself, leading to her lifelong love of reading and writing and dreaming about adventures, fantasy creatures and love in fantasy lands! She divides her time between writing sexy contemporary romances under a different pen name, reading, knitting and being owned by a very spoiled cocker spaniel who does not share her love of fantasy creatures.

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