Chosen Mate: Lion Shifter Romance (Cybermates Book 5) Read online

  Copyright © 2020 by Lovestruck Romance Publishing.

  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 except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  This book is intended for adult readers only.

  Any sexual activity portrayed in these pages occurs between consenting adults over the age of 18 who are not related by blood.

  Contents

  Special Offer

  Story Description

  1. Elin

  2. Dylan

  3. Elin

  4. Dylan

  5. Elin

  6. Dylan

  7. Elin

  8. Elin

  9. Dylan

  10. Elin

  11. Dylan

  12. Elin

  13. Dylan

  14. Elin

  15. Dylan

  16. Dylan

  17. Elin

  18. Dylan

  19. Elin

  20. Elin

  21. Dylan

  22. Elin

  Other books from Candace Ayers…

  Chosen Mate

  Cybermates

  Candace Ayers

  Lovestruck Romance Publishing

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  Sassy siren. Alluring beauty. Fragile human.

  Elin has a dream

  To mate a shifter

  To form a family

  It’s a rule of nature—shifters don’t leave their mates.

  Dominant alpha. Jungle beast. Sexy feline.

  Dylan has a duty

  To breed his females

  To build his Pride

  It’s a rule of nature—lions don’t have mates.

  Fated mates. Star-crossed lovers.

  Two months ago, the sexy lion shifter with the killer smile and smoldering eyes swept into Elin’s life like a whirlwind, then disappeared just as quickly.

  When Dylan ran, he hadn’t realized he was making the biggest mistake of his life, or that he was leaving behind more than a beautiful woman and a broken heart.

  1

  Elin

  Waving a water stained magazine back and forth in front of my face to ward off the heat, I tripped over a plastic tote, landed on an air mattress, and catapulted myself headfirst into my bedroom closet. Fortunately, I sustained no serious injuries. I took a hanger to the forehead, but I’d purged wire hangers years ago after watching Mommy Dearest, so it didn’t leave a mark.

  My entire cottage resembled a war zone. In the two months I’d lived in Sunkissed Key, I’d already dealt with a small army of rodents, a palmetto bug infestation, and now a burst water pipe.

  Despite the ninety degree heat, I had to leave the air conditioning off and the windows open to dry out my soggy life. Belongings—I meant soggy belongings.

  Damp clothes hung over every surface. Hastily packed plastic totes dotted the living room, and trash bags stuffed with waterlogged books, papers and magazines were piled near the door.

  The landlord was apparently vacationing in Jamaica. Who vacationed in Jamaica when they already lived in the Florida Keys? That made zero sense.

  And where were my red pumps? I continued to dig through plastic bins and navigate treacherous piles to no avail. Finally, I found them buried in the back of my closet under a sleeping bag and an old set of luggage.

  Once my outfit was completed, I did a spin in front of the full length mirror. The black cocktail dress was tasteful but daring, form-fitting but not skin tight, and it fell just above mid-thigh to reveal a decent amount of leg. A little overdressed for ladies night at Mimi’s, but I looked good. Good enough to catch a husband, to quote Mildred Larsen-Pierce—aka my mother—which was exactly my intent.

  My solo search had thus far proven to be futile, if not downright nauseating, but tonight was another opportunity to beg, bribe, and cajole Parker Pettit. Her Cybermates site was my best chance at landing a shifter mate.

  I stifled a yawn, sucked back the last swallow of my fifth iced coffee, and entered the one room in the house that was pristine—the kitchen. I’d been awake sixteen hours, most of which had been spent working on blogging and video editing.

  I slid the tripod back just a little to catch the perfect camera angle before filming myself as I removed my special-recipe homemade chocolate fudge brownies from the oven and resting the pan of ooey-gooey heavenly goodness on a cooling rack.

  They smelled incredible. I was tempted to steal a little nibble, but I already shouldered a truckload of guilt courtesy of a master guilt-tripper—my very own Mommy Dearest. According to Mildred Larsen-Pierce, baked goods were a highly effective weapon in a single woman’s arsenal, but they were meant to lure men in, not let seams of dresses out.

  I stared into the camera. “And here they are, folks. The most mouthwateringly delicious brownies you’ve ever tasted. You can find this recipe in my new cookbook, Elin’s Tasty Treats, available now on Amazon. I’ll have the link below in the description.”

  I scowled at the brownies.

  They looked delectable.

  They smelled scrumptious.

  Screw it.

  Before I could stop myself, I cut a small square from the corner and popped it into my mouth. Then, I did a bouncing dance with my mouth open and my hand flapping in front of my face to fan the molten chocolate while it played hot potato with my tongue.

  After finally managing to swallow it, I braced my hands on the counter, drawing in deep breaths.

  I’ll edit that part out.

  Another deep breath, and a bright smile for the camera.

  “Don’t forget to hit the like and subscribe button and tap the bell notification icon up in the corner to be notified when a new video has been released. Thank you for watching. Bye”

  My tongue tingled from the burn. There was a real chance I’d maim myself someday in some stubbornly defiant act. But, damn, those brownies were good.

  After taking a couple still shots of the plated brownies for Instagram and my blog, I wrapped the platter in foil, and headed to my VW Bug for the drive to Mimi’s Cabana.

  2

  Dylan

  “I’ve been sleeping with Tom Morris, and he’s begging me to become his first wife.”

  Brittany was trying to get under my skin. It was working, just not in the way she intended. I couldn’t care less if she slept with Tom, Dick or Harry, or Tom’s hairy dick. She could bang every lion shifter in the state of Florida for all I cared. I just wanted her to shut the hell up. My head was beginning to throb.

  “And where I go, Ashley goes.” She pointed emphatically to Ashley who was sitting angrily on my sofa tapping her foot and giving me the evil eye.

  I was about to toss Brittany some snippy comeback like I’ll call a cab for your Brexit, but I really didn’t want to add fuel to her fire. She already seemed to be casing my apartment, looking for something to throw at me.

  I simply nodded to her, then to Ashley. “My congr
atulations. To you both.”

  Apparently that was the wrong thing to say.

  “Ugh! You are such an asshole!”

  Well, what the fuck did she want?!

  She threw the TV remote at my head.

  I ducked.

  It missed.

  So she picked up a vase and hurled that. Missed again. When the vase shattered to the ground, she stomped over and swung a few punches. “You’d just let us go that easily?”

  I held my hands up to fend off the attack. “I would…um…support you in any direction you felt was best for your future happiness.”

  “Is that so?” Her finger wagged in my face. “Well, you’re not getting rid of us. It’s time you man-beast up and make this grouping an official Pride.”

  “Told you Brit, I’m not prepared to form a Pride just yet.” I took a step back in case she decided to Mike Tyson me again.

  “Oh really? Well, I suggest you get prepared. I have power among the local lionesses. I can blacklist you. Then good luck finding any wives for your Pride that aren’t butt ugly or older than dirt.”

  She wasn’t issuing idle threats, I knew that. So I pretended to care. Brittany was perfect first wife material. She was a bitch—ruthless, cunning, and she took no shit.

  I couldn’t stand her.

  It was mutual. She couldn’t stand me either.

  Not that that mattered in lion shifter prides. Romantic love was non-existent among our kind.

  For us, it was about the three P’s: power, prosperity, and prestige. That was how a male built his Pride, and what a female looked for when considering joining a Pride.

  Oh, and a fourth P—polygamy.

  Brittany and Ashley glowered at me, waiting for me to say something, but I was done. The tension was too thick, and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with them.

  I snatched my truck fob off the hall table. “I have things to do this afternoon. You two lock up when you leave.” I gestured to the shards of broken glass and returned their glares—one at a time. “And clean that mess up before you go.”

  As I swung open the door, Brittany decided to get in one last jab. “Make no mistake, this is an ultimatum, Dylan King.”

  Last straw.

  I turned to face her and let loose an earth shattering roar that shook the windows in their panes. Shit, I hated to do that. Things like that were difficult to explain to the neighbors.

  Both Brittany and Ashley shrunk as the wave of dominance rolled over them and flooded the room. Their bodies slumped and they bared their necks in submission.

  I wasn’t as big a bastard as it sounded. Lion shifter males were expected to put on a show of dominance in situations like this. It was the only way we maintained respect among our kind.

  Massaging my temple, I strode out to my truck and climbed in.

  Brittany was no different from most lionesses. All she cared about were those three P’s, and I had them: power inherited from my father, prestige as the only son of the Chancellor of the lion shifter community, and financial prosperity from selling my tech company for a bundle a few years back. I was considered a catch among our kind. Unfortunately.

  It was why Brittany chose me. Ashley…well, the only thing Ashley wanted was Brittany.

  I didn’t give a rat fart about Brittany and her power to blacklist me, although I knew her threats weren’t idle. She’d use it if it served her purpose. The thing that felt like a kick in the nuts was that the Brittany and Ashley were right. I couldn’t keep putting it off.

  It was time for me to start a Pride.

  3

  Elin

  “There are scores of dating sites for you to choose from.” Parker shoveled another of my chocolate fudge brownies in her mouth. She raised herself to her knees on the stool and leaned across the bar top to see around Laila and Grace who were standing between us, deep in conversation.

  She waved her smartphone, jabbed at the screen a few times, then slid it across the bar toward me. “There you go. Bliss Match, the number one most trusted and highest rated dating site—for humans.”

  I sighed and glanced briefly at the phone without reaching for it. “No thanks.”

  Parker kept the phone where it was, midway between us, even though I sat three barstools down. She didn’t give up. She leaned farther, examining one of the profiles. Well, would you look at this hunka-hunka…” Pinching the screen to zoom in on his full-body pic she squinted at the crotch area. “Whoa…and check out his burning love!”

  I winced and looked away quickly, but she kept going. “Michael. Six foot two inches, 30 years old. Likes long walks in the park and watching the sunset on a sandy beach. Oh! He volunteers at an animal shelter—”

  Arden, seated to my right, shook her head. “Parker, you know she wants a shifter. She’s only said it a million times.”

  Arden Richardson, soon to be Arden Bennett, and I had been best friends for over a decade, ever since we were the only two flat-chested, late-blooming dweebs amongst the crowd of beautifully blossoming pre-socialites at Fuller Academy, an upscale prep school for girls outside Miami.

  “Can’t say I blame her.” Heidi was working the bar and slid a mixed drink in front of me. “They’re protective as all get out, if you can get past the sometimes irrational jealousy. Plus, the sex is off the charts.”

  Laila waggled her brows. “You got that right. Gray does this thing in bed, I know it doesn’t sound anatomically possible, but just hear me out—”

  “Eww… TMI again, Laila. That’s my brother you’re talking about!” Grace clamped her hands over her ears. “Lalalala, I can’t hear you.”

  Laila flashed a devilish grin. “I love doing that to her.”

  Arden and I exchanged glances—mine frustrated, hers sympathetic. “Come on.” She nodded to the center of the room. “Let’s dance.”

  In what seemed like no time, I was three drinks in and three sheets to the wind. On the dance floor, or the space we’d single-handedly turned into a dance floor, I was sandwiched between Fern and Megan, working my hips to the beat and sipping my drink—a fruity concoction called tight snatch.

  I tried and failed to ignore the fact that I was the only single woman at our ladies night gathering. And that all the other women were mated to shifters.

  “Someone’s phone is ringing!” Laila waved my pink jewel-encrusted phone case in the air. “It’s…” Laila looked at the name on the screen. “Mom.”

  I grimaced and stumbled slightly as I grabbed for my phone. Pushing decline, I grinned at Laila. “Let’s ignore that, shall we?”

  “That might be wise in your condition, considering you just tripped over thin air.”

  The phone started up again, almost immediately, and I frowned down at it realizing it wasn’t going to stop. Swearing under my breath, I forced a smile. “I guess I’m answering. It’s either that or she’ll notify the island authorities she suspects foul play and have them search my home for clues to my abduction.”

  By the time I edged past the crowd, stepped outside, and took a few wobbly strides toward the ocean, my mother had already hung up and called back again.

  “Mom?”

  Instantly, her shrill voice greeted me. “Why haven’t you been answering your phone? Where are you? I’ve called no less than eight times.”

  “I’m out with friends. I didn’t hear my phone.”

  “You’re at a bar?”

  I groaned, holding the phone away from my face so she wouldn’t hear.

  “So, you’re drunk?” When I hesitated, she jumped on it. “Oh, goodness, Elinor. Really? Acting the fool in public? Highly unattractive.”

  “Mom, is there a reason you called eight times?”

  I tried to focus, but in my drunken state, the phone slipped from my fingers and landed in front of my shoes. When I bent at the waist to retrieve it, I couldn’t seem to get a good grip on it. It ended up slipping from my fingers and burying itself in the sand.

  I could hear my mother’s voice as I worked to dig the
phone out. “Elinor?! Elinor?!” Wobbling, I lost my balance entirely and toppled head over heels, splitting the seam of my dress and sending a red pump flying through the air. Lovely.

  I finally managed to reclaim the phone just in time to watch the screen go dark as the battery died.

  Releasing a half groan half sigh, I rolled over, let my head fall back on the sand, and stared up at the crescent moon. Since I was too drunk to drive, and I couldn’t call a taxi with a dead phone, I figured I’d just lay there. I didn’t want to go back inside with all the mated women.

  The evening temperature had cooled slightly and a gentle breeze rolled in off the ocean. It was a perfect night for lovers.

  I sighed loudly up at the stars. “I’m ready universe. I’m ready for mine.”

  My dream, for as long as I could remember, was to have a family—diapers, and car seats, and date nights, and meatloaf Mondays.

  I’d been searching for Mr. Right for much of my 27 year existence, but all I’d managed to find were dick pic texters, the chronically unemployed, and man-child porn addicts living in their parents’ basement and playing video games in their underwear. If it were a field of study, I’d hold an advanced degree in heartache, abandonment, and bad choices.

  When Arden told me about shifters—fiercely loyal, protective, steadfast, and attentive, I moved to Sunkissed Key in a heartbeat.