Imprinted: Eternal Enemies

By Roxy Matthews

A Lion Shifter Fated Mates Paranormal Romance (Eternal Enemies Book One)

 

Protecting his pride never included her, until now.

Blaire Davies wasn't born with the need to help others, she'd been gifted it... at a cost.

After nine years of helping victims ease their suffering with her abilities, she'd only chipped away at herself. Distracted by thoughts of changing professions, she's snatched off the street and left standing between a dead body and a full-sized lion; a bloodied blade in her hand.

Born into a centuries old truce surrounding Canterbury Cove, Shane Hunter now has the opportunity to show the pride what he's made of. At the helm to protect the residents, to keep blood off the streets, he expects some resilience. Not the body of one of his eternal enemies at the feet of a redhead with a blade the same color, nor the scent of the beginning of a war he had no intention of losing.

Can Shane find a way to keep Blaire safe from the danger that has been unleashed, or will she be forever imprinted and marked for death?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Roxy Matthews
• Release date: Jun 9, 2024
• ISBN: 9781989671214

Roxy Matthews

R.M.Sackville is a self-published author of novellas, novelettes, and short story collections that delve into the dark and twisted, testing the boundaries of taboo with Dark Fantasy, Sci/Fi, and Thriller pieces. Her work has been featured in Suspense Magazine and LitFest Magazine.     R.M.Sackville's softer side can be found under her alternate pen name; Roxy Matthews, where she writes Romantic/Suspense and Fantasy. In 2018 she was named one of Canada's Best Writers of the Year by Polar Expressions Publishing. Her work has been featured in several anthologies under this pen name, including ‘The Way Through’ by Polar Expressions Publishing, The Charmed Writers Flash Fiction Anthology 2019, and Naughty Night's Press' Sweeter Than Chocolate: Valentine's Day Anthology.  Subscribe to her newsletter for updates on new releases and promotions at https://bluebaloo79.wixsite.com/roxymatthewsauthor/newsletter

Book preview

IMPRINTED

ETERNAL ENEMIES

BOOK ONE

––––––––

Roxy Matthews

SALE OF THIS BOOK WITHOUT A FRONT COVER MAY BE UNAUTHORIZED. IF THIS BOOK IS COVERLESS, IT MAY HAVE BEEN REPORTED TO THE PUBLISHER AS UNSOLD OR DESTROYED AND NEITHER THE AUTHOR NOR THE PUBLISHER MAY HAVE RECEIVED PAYMENT FOR IT.

NO PART OF THIS BOOK MAY BE ADAPTED, STORED, COPIED, REPRODUCED OR TRANSMITTED IN ANY FORM OR BY ANY MEANS, ELECTRONIC OR MECHANICAL, INCLUDING PHOTOCOPYING, RECORDING, OR BY ANY INFORMATION STORAGE AND RETRIEVAL SYSTEM, WITHOUT PERMISSION IN WRITING FROM THE PUBLISHER.

THANK YOU FOR RESPECTING THE HARD WORK OF THIS AUTHOR.

IMPRINTED

ETERNAL ENEMIES

COPYRIGHT © 2022 ROXY MATTHEWS

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

ISBN-13: 978-1-989671-21-4

THIS BOOK IS A WORK OF FICTION. NAMES, CHARACTERS, PLACES, OR INCIDENTS ARE PRODUCTS OF THE AUTHOR’S IMAGINATION OR

ARE USED FACTIOUSLY. ANY RESEMBLANCE TO ACTUAL PERSONS, LIVING OR DEAD, EVENTS,

OR LOCALES ARE ENTIRELY COINCIDENTAL.

Check out other titles by Roxy Matthews

Pale Bay Treasures Series:

Drago’s Destiny

McBride’s Gem

Tanzer’s Jewel

Doucet’s Stone

Destiny’s Warrior

Holiday Resistance

Perfect Stranger

Eternal Enemies Series:

Imprinted

Refused

Betrayed

And

R.M.Sackville

Misery’s Companion

Tools of Terror

Hypno-Planticus

Unhinged

Red On White

Canadian Psycho

I’D LIKE TO DEDICATE THIS STORY TO ALL THOSE WHO BELIEVED IN ME. THOSE WHO’VE ONLY RECENTLY COME INTO MY LIFE, CHANGING IT FOREVER. TO THE ONES STILL HERE BY MY SIDE AFTER YEARS OF RIDING WHAT I’LL ALWAYS CALL ‘MY ROLLERCOASTER AUTHOR CAREER’. AND THE SUPPORTERS, GONE YET NOT FORGOTTEN.

WE LOST MANY IN 2020, INCLUDING MY BROTHER-IN-LAW, TIM. HE ALWAYS SUPPORTED ME, EVEN WHEN I THOUGHT I WAS GOOD. IT’S BECAUSE OF ALL YOUR LOVE THAT I’M STILL PUSHING FORWARD, LIVING AND LOVING MY DREAM.

TO THE PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE.

CHAPTER ONE

MANIPULATING MINDS SHOULDN’T be so maddening. Or exhausting. But it was. And she couldn’t help but want to end it all.

Why am I still doing this to myself?

Blaire exhaled on a sigh while running a hand over her face.

Hours had passed since her final appointment, yet she’d been unable to step from her office, let alone pull herself up out of the chair. Mentally and emotionally exhausted, she was as useless to herself and her own bodily needs at that moment as she was to the woman who came to her for help and advice.

The fragile blond made Blaire seriously debate a change of profession. It wasn’t like she hadn’t heard the story before, hadn’t seen the telltale bruises, the tremors in her body, or smelled the fear.

She’d accepted this position knowing full well what it would do to her considering her gift. However, it was because of her gift that she felt she had to accept the job.

Since joining the center’s team nine years ago, she’d been able to help many women, morphing their minds into that with which she knew would help them.

At least, that was always the case before Alise.

The woman sapped her dry without even allowing one of Blaire’s thoughts to be transmitted, buried deep into her victimized brain. Instead, she seemed impenetrable, her thoughts hazy, shifting at a speed Blaire could not reach.

Blaire shivered at the thought. Although Alise wasn’t her first, the residual feeling always left her unnerved.

Blaire threw her head back against the headrest of the office chair and closed her eyes.

Even though she was accustomed to the darkness of man, the violence that bared its teeth time and time again, something about Alise plucked a chord in her. One she couldn’t put her finger on.

Resigned to a long, sleepless night, to her own demons playing in the shadows of her little apartment, she sat forward, closed the files on her desk and replaced them in the drawers. As if a marionette on a string, she pushed the chair back, exhaling on a sigh.

She was just tired. The day was long, paperwork endless, and she was just feeling the weight of it, that was all.

That was the lie she told herself, at least.

She shoved one arm in her jacket, shrugged it over her shoulder, and stepped out into the darkened office beyond. As she crossed the room she pulled her jacket the rest of the way on, and closed in on the door. Her mind was in turmoil, yet her feet moved of their own volition.

With her mind on getting home to a hot bath and glass of red wine, Blaire closed and locked the crisis center behind her.

As her mind raced, she stepped out into the well-lit sidewalk that stretched before her.

Why hadn’t she been able to connect with Alise? Was she finally coming undone listening to the stories, wiping the tears, seeing the bruises and welts?

Over the years, she debated whether it was time to make a change in her life. But each time her guilt over what would happen to the women if she did had her dismissing the idea all together. Sure, there were other qualified counsellors who would take her place, but did they care as she did, could they provide the positive thoughts, the internal voice that she could give her patients?

Ahead of her, a streetlight flickered, sending shadows to stretch and retract in an ominous rhythm that sent a chill down her spine.

A car horn blared, tires screeched, hollers rent the air sending a skitter to her heart. The distraction just enough that she didn’t notice the hunched over animal lunge out of the alley towards her.

Blaire screamed seconds before sharp claws dug into her pant leg, piercing the flesh beneath. She screamed out in pain, in fear, only to be sucked into the darkened alley.  

.*.*.*.

LAST CALL, THE bartender bellowed over the cacophony of blaring music and inebriated patrons.

From Shane’s position at the front door, arms crossed over his chest, narrowed gaze perusing the crowd, he watched the barrage of bodies swarm Billy.

Most of them can barely even stand. Chase scoffed. It never ceases to amaze me how callous mankind are with their bodies.

Shane huffed, kept his attention on the crowd around Billy that was quickly dispersing, full drinks in hand.

He didn’t agree with Chase, if anything he understood more than any just how easy it was to fall down that rabbit hole. He couldn’t even count the number of nights he’d fallen asleep in a heap on his couch, clothes drenched in beer or vomit. All to drive away the demons of the past, to suck him away from the tragic reality of life.

The music lowered, lights brightened rousing the crowd into hollers of displeasure.

Same old, same old, every damn night, Chase muttered.

You’re not going to moan all night again are you? Shane grumbled. You accepted this agreement offered by our elders, deal with it and stop whining.

Without turning