Home > Craved by a Wolf (Eternal Mates #20)

Craved by a Wolf (Eternal Mates #20)
Author: Felicity Heaton

 

THE ETERNAL MATES WORLD

 

 

Eternal Mates Series

Book 1: Kissed by a Dark Prince

Book 2: Claimed by a Demon King

Book 3: Tempted by a Rogue Prince

Book 4: Hunted by a Jaguar

Book 5: Craved by an Alpha

Book 6: Bitten by a Hellcat

Book 7: Taken by a Dragon

Book 8: Marked by an Assassin

Book 9: Possessed by a Dark Warrior

Book 10: Awakened by a Demoness

Book 11: Haunted by the King of Death

Book 12: Turned by a Tiger

Book 13: Tamed by a Tiger

Book 14: Treasured by a Tiger

Book 15: Unchained by a Forbidden Love

Book 16: Avenged by an Angel

Book 17: Seduced by a Demon King

Book 18: Scorched by Darkness

Book 19: Inflamed by an Incubus

Book 20: Craved by a Wolf - Coming Soon!

Book 21: Bewitched by a Vampire - Coming Soon!

 

 

Black Ridge Bears Series

Book 1: Stolen by her Bear

Book 2: Rescued by her Bear

Book 3: Saved by her Bear

Book 4: Unleashed by her Bear

Book 5: Awakened by her Bear

This series is complete!

 

 

Cougar Creek Mates Series

Book 1: Claimed by her Cougar

Book 2: Captured by her Cougar

Book 3: Courted by her Cougar

Book 4: Craved by her Cougar

This series is complete!

 

 

London Vampires Series

Book 1: Covet

Book 2: Crave

Book 3: Seduce

Book 4: Enslave

Book 5: Bewitch

Book 6: Unleash

This series is complete!

 

 

Get a Free Vampire Romance Book

 

 

A vampire prince on a four-hundred-year-old mission to avenge his murdered sister. A vampire guard who will do whatever it takes to protect those she loves. When Aleksandr turns his hunt towards capturing Elise’s heart and she discovers the depth of the corruption in his soul, will she have the strength to face the pain in her past and do whatever it takes to save him?

 

 

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Chapter 1

 

 

Life was pretty sweet.

Hella ambled along the lakeshore, the heels of her black knee-high boots clicking on the pale golden flagstones that formed the broad promenade and her gaze on the stunningly blue water to her right as it twinkled in the artificial sunlight. She sipped her iced coffee, a bounce in her step, her whole body feeling lighter—brighter—for finally having swept off the oh-so-clingy nymph.

Ethyrian had been fun for a while. Charming. Rich. Handsome—no—beautiful. Hella wasn’t sure a man should be beautiful, but that was nymphs for you. They weren’t gorgeous like incubi, who all looked as if they had just stepped out of Hollywood and easily gave Brad Pitt and Ryan Reynolds a run for their money. No. Nymphs crossed the line into beautiful, every single one of them looking for all the world as if they had just stepped out of the wood elf kingdom in Lord of the Rings.

Man, she could really go for some Legolas right now.

She scowled, pushed that thought aside, and stopped her roaming gaze before she could single out any eligible males in the crowded promenade. She wasn’t going to backslide. This was going to be her year. One devoted to exploring everything the fae town she lived in had to offer.

Which was a lot.

The damned nymph popped back into her head.

Hella booted him back out of it.

She had a policy when it came to her bedfellows. She didn’t do commitment. She didn’t do clingy. She most definitely didn’t do men who cried like babies and begged her to take them back.

Hella had flatly told him no and goodbye and had kicked him to the curb.

For a man who had been desperate to stay with her, he certainly hadn’t been calling all hours of the day or making wild attempts to change her mind. Which was strange.

It might have been a bit disappointing if it hadn’t allowed her the space and freedom to expand her horizons.

Hella flashed a saucy wink at a pair of panther shifters loitering outside one of the taverns to her left that lined the broad pavement, facing the huge lake. The younger of the two took the bait, his smile nothing short of salacious as he gave her a sexy, slow once-over, raking his golden eyes from her hair to her boots and back again. Currently, she was working her way through all the eligible males in the fae town.

She glanced at the buildings that encircled the lake, crammed into the cavern that sat beneath a mountain, and realised that was a lot of men. Fenix, her incubus best-bud, was going to be kept in tonics and pills for a long time thanks to her current foray into sexually exploring every possible species—bar those classified as demon breeds like incubi—to see what suited her tastes best.

She hadn’t tried panther yet.

She twirled a strand of her wavy blue hair around her fingers and sipped on her drink, making sure he got a good eyeful of the way she wrapped her glossy lips around the straw.

His low growl sent a thrill down her spine as he stepped towards her. His friend put a halt to everything by grabbing his arm and tugging him back, and saying something that had the handsome shifter frowning at him. Maybe they were going to fight over her. Two females stepped out of the tavern holding four tankards and made a beeline for the males. Hella shrugged. Or maybe not.

She turned her cheek to them, no longer interested in what either male had to offer. She also didn’t do cheats. Anyone who warmed her bed for a night or two needed to be unattached.

The last thing she needed was angry females banging down her door or spreading malicious talk about her. It was bad for business.

No one wanted potions, ointments or spells from witches liable to screw others over. People tended not to separate a witch’s personal life from their business practice. If she was known to cheat when it came to pursuing pleasure, she couldn’t be trusted to not cheat when it came to the wares she sold. Plenty of witches had fallen foul of that and had been driven out of business, or worse, out of the fae town in which they lived.

Hella took in the elegant pastel pink, cream and dove-grey four-storey buildings that lined the promenade, their lead roofs absorbing the bright sunlight that bathed their façades. They resembled the buildings in Geneva, the nearest mortal town, a classic European air about them. The ones that acted as hotels for visiting immortals had French doors and balconies for each room rather than windows, offering a view of the lake to everyone who stayed there. Others were taverns with apartments above them, and some were shops and other businesses.

She drifted towards the large windows that lined the lowest floors of a row of stores, admiring the colourful glass bottles in the perfume emporium and the latest fashions displayed in the next building. Her gaze dropped to her black dress. Witches had to wear black dresses. It was tradition. No one wanted to buy magical goods from a woman in a pink dress or linen slacks and a camisole. A witch had to look the part.

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