Forbidden Mate Read Online Free PDF Page A

offering.
    “We’ve both given up on women,” he slurred.
    As the effects began to take hold, he smiled lazily.
He wanted to forget as much as he wanted to remember. The women in the bar all
began to look alike, his doubled vision playing tricks with his mind. He
staggered off his stool, bumping into other patrons as he attempted to find the
exit.
    “Watch it!” Someone pushed him into another man. He
was tossed about like a pinball until someone finally decided to throw a punch.
Unfortunately it didn’t knock his sense back into him, leaving him more
disoriented and pathetic. The other men in the bar were itching for a fight,
and the alcohol didn’t help the flood of testosterone. It wasn’t going to turn
out well for him.
    He did the only thing he could do with his vision,
strength, and common sense at the bottom of a shot glass—he started swinging.
    The roar of voices pounded in his head. There was a frenzy amongst the bar-goers, all chanting for bloodshed.
Marco was lost. He was sailing along, ignoring the pain, trying to make sense
of the chaos. The vague sting of punches reminded him he wasn’t winning any
battles tonight. He considered shifting, but even in his inebriated state, he
knew better than to shift in a public place. To break such a founding rule
would mean certain outcast or worse.
    “Marco!” The familiar voice registered, but he was
too wasted to care. Someone grabbed him sharply by the collar and dragged him
away from the bar and the relentless beating, tossing him onto the dusty
pathway. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
    He looked up through one slanted eye, the other
swollen shut. “Nett?”
    “Targus! It’s
Targus, Marco. For gods’ sake.” He watched his friend
pace back and forth, the light from the bar windows illuminating his large,
heaving frame.
    “Right. I
knew that.”
    “What the fuck are you doing here? What if I hadn’t
shown up? Do you think getting hammered is the answer? You look like a filthy
coyote right now, not a wolf.” Targus massaged both hands behind his neck. “You
used to be so much better than this. Maybe you are a lost cause.”
    He could feel his friend’s disappointment and
desperation. It wasn’t Marco’s intention to hurt anyone, especially Targus.
He’d really fucked up everything.
    Marco pushed up with his arms, but lost all
strength, collapsing back to the dirt. He wanted to stop his friend from
walking away, to demand another chance to prove he was better than this. But it
was too late.
    He fell asleep on the dirt floor in front of the bar
like a common drunk. He’d hit rock bottom.
    ****
    Helen was up early, going over all the brochures from
the tour company. They were spread out over the small kitchen table like
wrapping paper. She kept repeating the facts in her head in case any of the
passengers asked her a question on the bus tour. The entire trip was
ridiculous. She never should have agreed to come, not when these people were
paying for an experienced tour guide.
    She studied the notes she’d scribbled down about the
town. There was a massive castle as a focal point, but they weren’t allowed to
enter the grounds. Who lives there? It
must be some wealthy, upper class family…or possibly royalty. Maybe it was
empty, a landmark of sorts. She didn’t know much about the area or its history,
and nobody seemed willing to tell her anything. The townsfolk were all hush-hush
about everything, and it was started to rouse her suspicions. Hopefully one of
the passengers wouldn’t put her on the spot by asking her about the castle.
    Helen sighed and dropped down in her chair. As much
as she should be researching Chupacabras , castles,
and haunted forests, she couldn’t stop thinking about the man from last night.
Would she see him again? He was like a fantasy—here one minute, gone the next.
When she first woke up she questioned if the chain of events last night
actually occurred. Her ripped blouse was evidence it wasn’t