A Cursed Weylan Series, Book Four
Release Date: August 2nd, 2024
Elloise Weylan has a problem…or two. There’s a warlock circle hunting her coven for their powers and she’s lost control of her werewolf half. Her only hope is accepting help from her mate and entering a merge to reunite her two halves.
Jacques Kincaid has waited far too long to find his mate. Finding her only to discover her wolf has gone feral is a twist he didn’t see coming. Now he’s willing to risk his standing as an Old One and his life to hide her away until she can attempt a merge.
But the merge isn’t a simple spell. It’s a fight for dominance and life. If Elle fails she won’t make it out alive. If Jac is caught harboring a feral werewolf all their lives will be forfeited. Will Elle be strong enough to take back control? Or will they lose each other right as they have found forever?
~ Excerpt ~
Chapter One
Growling with frustration as she once again found herself driving away from the scent she hunted, she slammed on the brakes. The owner of the scent was moving, or the winds shifted. Her vehicle went too fast to properly hunt it. Damn these human conveyances!
She should have run on her feet, but her human relations would have found that too odd to ignore. For the moment, they did not realize she was in control. She planned to keep it that way, hence the aggravating mode of transportation she was forced to endure.
Snarling in frustration at having lost the trail once more, she turned down another side street, her back tire thumping over the curb. The ominous screech of metal over concrete pulled a wince from her. Blowing the long tresses of her blonde hair from her eyes, she sniffed the air blowing in from the open window.
She was so focused on trying to pick up her prey again, it took her a minute to realize she had made yet another mistake.
The street led to nowhere!
What was with humans and their desire to be cloistered together without proper avenues of escape?
Howling angrily, she turned the vehicle in a half circle, planning to double back in hopes of finding the scent once more. She needed to find it.
Ahead of her, another vehicle was coming down the useless road. What were they doing here? Five of her relations were in the vehicle, blocking her way. Stomping on the gas pedal, she decided to force their retreat, but the vehicle didn’t obey. It slowed, quickly coming to a standstill.
It shut down.
No!
Furious, she beat the steering wheel with her fist, pressing the gas and jabbing at the ignition. Nothing happened. What did she have to do to find that scent? Why did it always seem like it was just out of reach? She had been so close!
The sound of doors opening snapped her head up. They were coming for her, holding their hands to their sides as they approached, readying magic.
Traitors!
She didn’t have time for this. She had to find that scent.
Opening the vehicle’s door, she snarled at them for their interference, sure they were the reason her vehicle failed her.
“Elloise, dear,” her uncle’s mate tried to trick her with false comforting. “We are here to take you home.”
They wanted to take her back to the large den, where they were sure to lock her away. She wouldn’t allow it. Never again.
Spinning on her heel, she sprinted away from them. They wouldn’t be able to use their magic to stop her if she ran fast enough.
As she ran through territories, behind dens and across streets at speeds mortals couldn’t follow with their inferior eyes, she could hear three of them pursuing her. Why would they not cease?
Then she smelled it.
The scent. It was strong. Close.
And she was passing it again!
Abruptly she turned, running through the cluster of her relations, taking them by surprise and putting on a burst of speed to keep them from casting their magic on her.
She was closing in on her target. Almost there.
Ahead of her was a territory fence, a herd of sheep grazing beyond it. She could smell the owner of the scent. Along with four others. A complication, but it wouldn’t stop her.
She hopped the fence, snarling in satisfaction when her relations didn’t follow. They too would be able to smell the werewolves who claimed the land she trespassed.
She followed the trail to the den, stopping a half dozen yards before it.
Tilting her head, she looked it over. Not too large in size, with a porch on the front, and plenty of windows to allow sunlight inside. It was a clean white color, with a dark gray roof. She could hear his heartbeat inside and smell his scent the strongest here. Inside would give him an advantage. He knew his den while she did not. She needed him to come to her.
She didn’t have to wait long for him to appear, probably having heard her less than stealthy approach. Stepping from the den with a ferocious glare, he regarded her with bright green eyes the color of spring grass.
She deemed him attractive. Tall. Muscular. Shaggy black hair. Skin kissed by the sun and stubble dusting a strong square jaw. He had an aristocratic nose, sharp cheekbones and supple lips.
She tilted her head, admiring his physique. He would have made an acceptable mate.
Considering him was a mistake. One that allowed the four other werewolves she had scented to surround her. His pack.
She glanced around, eyeing the four male werewolves with indifference. They would not prevent her from her objective.
She looked back to him as the wind shifted. His nostrils flared as her scent was carried to him. His scowl dropped, his jaw slackening ever so slightly, green eyes flickering to his wolf’s yellow and back. He breathed deeply, as if he was savoring her.
Knowing he recognized her smell from their previous encounter, however brief that had been, she felt a margin if satisfaction. She had found him, and he was too late.
With a feral growl, she ripped her tattered shirt from her body. Tossing it aside, she kicked the sandals from her feet, shoved her skirt down her legs. Her shift pained her, but she didn’t let that stop her from running at him, her sharp wolf’s teeth aimed for his throat.
A V Gabriau 