Page 3 of Unforeseen Mate

“She didn’t. She was being selfish, and now I’m left alone.” The man drew himself up. “I demand you return her to me.”

“If she chose to chance one of the circles of the Underworld to be gone from you, perhaps it is you who belongs below, and she has gone above to be forgiven for her momentary weakness. Go now and do not return.”

“I want her back,” said the little man. Hayden looked at his fingernails and sighed—growing more annoyed and bored by the minute. “You can’t stop me,” the man insisted.

The man raised his hand and tried to push the barrier aside. It seemed his soul had been weighed and was found not to measure up.

“Don’t…” Hayden warned him, but it was too late.

The man touched the barrier a second time, leaning into it with all of his might. That was enough pressure to trigger a built-in defensive measure. The man went up in flames in an instant—his soul lost forever. Shaking his head, Hayden clucked his tongue.

Sometimes this job really sucked.

Humans had no concept of the fact that hellhounds held back the darkness that lurked below and that they were the protectors of the balance between realms. They had no concept that they even existed. He had to keep it that way.

As he shimmered in the Hollow, Hayden used his invisibility to move between the realms. As the champions of the supernatural world, hellhounds had two tasks: to keep the peace and keep the secret of those who were not human, and to act as a kind of elite guard at the barrier between the worlds.

As alpha of his pack, Hayden and his clan had fulfilled their destiny, but he intended to ensure that the hellhounds took their seat at the table of a new Ruling Council—one that represented all shifters, not just those with wealth and influence. And hemeant for the hellhounds to continue on—be it in heaven, hell, or somewhere in between.

CHAPTER 2

FALLON

Savoy Hotel

London, England

Fallon sat in her pajamas, curled up in her favorite chair by the fireplace, a chunky knit throw she’d brought with her from home covering the lower half of her body. The Savoy was such a lovely hotel, and the service was exceptional. The museum had asked her where she wanted to stay. She’d been a bit surprised when she jokingly said the Savoy and they’d agreed.

The job had been both intellectually and financially satisfying. The museum was getting ready to open an exhibit based on legendary and mythological creatures, asking whether or not there was any paleontological evidence to suggest that at some point they had, in fact, existed. While Fallon had a PhD in paleozoology, she had focused her secondary line of study in this specific field. She had approached it not from a cryptozoological standpoint, which was more theoretical in her opinion, but from studying fossils and bones—hard evidence.

She was finishing up some final paperwork and was looking forward to the next few days. The museum was paying for her to stay through the night, and she had opted to remain in her roomfor an additional three days on her own dime. It was expensive, but Fallon had decided to treat herself and splurge.

One thing on her to-do list was a reading with a famed tarot card practitioner. Fallon carried her own set of tarot cards with her and dabbled, especially when seeking clarification on something. But so far, her own cards had revealed nothing about her strange dreams. Perhaps the tarot card reader who had far more experience and training could explain the dreams Fallon kept having. They made no sense. They had begun last year, and she had told no one—not even Nora, her best friend.

They were always heralded by a long, mournful howl by what she could only describe as a hellhound, which made no sense. There was no paleontological evidence that a creature such as a hellhound had ever existed, although there were pictographs and drawings. The cultures that depicted them showed them as enormous wolf-like creatures with long, black, shaggy hair, tipped in flames and eyes that had an ethereal glow. There was no evidence that a creature like that had ever existed and even the myths were fantastical, describing a creature with the ability to shapeshift from hellhound to man, a guardian of the Underworld living in a kind of bubble between Earth and the Underworld with the ability to be invisible for short periods of time.

Fallon knew several cryptozoological experts who pointed out that the mere fact that all of the myths and legends were virtually the same across many cultures indicated there had to be some truth to it. Fallon didn’t believe that, as the same could be said about a great many mythological creatures: sasquatch/yeti, dragons, mermaids, and many more.

But still, each time the dream started, she could hear the beast in the distance calling to her. She didn’t just hear it, but she could also feel the accompanying longing, need, and lust. Sheunderstood all three, and if she was being honest, the lust most of all.

It had been a long time since she’d been involved with anyone. Her life was hectic, and she enjoyed things the way they were—for the most part. Having a relationship meant making compromises she wasn’t willing to make. Maybe someday in the future, but for now she just made do with her handy dandy vibrator—and the very sexy dream lover who came to her with an ever-increasing frequency.

She finished her report and sent it via email to the museum.Voilà!Her work commitments here in London were finished. She packed away and secured her computer. She was done working and had promised to give herself the next few days off. She would be reachable by phone and would check her email once daily, but she needed some time off.

Entering the bedroom of her junior suite, she smiled at the turned-down bed and makings for a cup of tea sitting bedside. The Savoy’s turndown service was amazing. She’d mentioned in passing her first night that she usually liked to have a cup of tea in bed while she watched some mindless television before calling it a day. Ever since, there was always a cup just waiting to be brewed. Within minutes she was ready to crawl under the covers and sleep.

On a dark moor somewhere along the coast of England, the eerie sound of the hellhound called to her. The sound seeped into her being and made her shiver. He was coming for her. She knew it. Fallon looked to the top of the hill and saw the enormous black, shaggy hound watching her intently. She could barely make out his shape, but his fur seemed to be tinged with small flames and his eyes shone with an ethereal glow.

As she always did, Fallon moved in the opposite direction, even though it had always proved futile in her dreams. That was another oddity of the dreams: she knew she was dreaming.Perhaps that was why she didn’t find them terrifying. As she began to move, her clothes seemed to fall away, sizzling as if they were burning, but not causing her any harm. So now, as she picked up her pace in moving away from the beast, she was naked.

She looked to the horizon. Usually there was some kind of dwelling or outbuilding she could find in which she would try to hide, but that never proved successful. This time, however, no such barn, hunting lodge, or shack seemed to be available. There was a thick fog rolling in. It would be a contest as to which overtook her first—the hellhound or the thick mist.

Fallon picked up the pace, breaking into a run to see if she could find some kind of shelter. The hound bayed as he gave chase, and the sound caused her to stumble and fall to her knees. As she was getting to her feet, there was a low, rumbling snarl behind her, and her nostrils were assailed by fire, brimstone, and musk. She could feel his hot breath licking at her.

She stopped and turned to stand her ground. This was the first time she’d seen him as a beast close up. He was enormous, at least three times the size of a regular wolf. His black coat was long, shaggy, and it really did appear as if it were on fire. His teeth were larger than those of a normal canine. His eyes glowed, and his claws looked to be razor sharp.

He pressed against her as he circled her body with enough force that she was forced back down to the ground, sitting on her naked buttocks. He rubbed his head against hers, sniffing her neck before dragging his large, wet tongue along her throat. Backing off, he seemed to shimmer and then disappear into nothing.

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