Stolen Mate

Stolen Mate SHADOW CURSED BOOK THREE JESSICA WAYNE Contents 1. Kiya 2. Merrick 3. Merrick 4. Kiya 5. Merrick 6. Merrick 7. Kiya 8. Merrick 9. Kiya 10. Merrick 11. Merrick 12. Kiya 13. Merrick 14. Kiya 15. Kiya 16. Kiya 17. Merrick 18. Kiya 19. Merrick 20. Merrick 21. Kiya 22. Merrick 23. Kiya 24. Kiya 25. Kiya 26. Merrick 27. Kiya 28. Kiya 29. Merrick 30. Kiya 31. MacKenna 32. Kiya Also By Jessica Wayne About Jessica Wayne Shadow Cursed, book 3 By Jessica Wayne Copyright © 2022. All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places, or actual events is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without written permission of the author, except for use of brief quotations in a book review. Edited by Dawn Proofread by Tasha Lewis Cover Design by TwinArtCoverDesign Alternate Cover Design by Covers by Christian Those who stand up and fight very rarely feel the unburdened joy of victory. Instead, they’re haunted by their losses. By their sacrifices. Blurb I signed my wife’s death warrant. An alpha without my beta, I’m a soldier with no moral compass. A savage beast with no chain. The king stole my wife. My mate. My beloved. I’ve killed for far less. Even as the curse has been broken, I’ve never felt such bloodlust. Such a driving need to paint the realm crimson. And before the first snow dusts the Shadow Lands, I will have his head on a f*cking spike. Chapter 1 Kiya “I know you think I’m heartless.” Chest rising and falling in rapid succession, I glare back at the man pacing in front of me. He’s dressed casually—riding pants and a white shirt splattered with my blood. His dark hair is more grey now than the last time I was here, his gaze far more haunted. When I look into his eyes now, I see obsession. Madness. And if I didn’t hate him so much, I might feel some pity for the way he’s lost himself to this disgusting plot where he will create an army of shifters to fight for him. An entire line that will carry his twisted legacy long after he’s rotted in the dirt. I wheeze, sucking in a breath that causes pain to shoot through my chest. My body is battered and bruised, but Julius will not break me. He’ll have to kill me first. “Sadistic fuck is more like it,” I spit out. Every muscle burns. My face is still stinging from his slap. There are lacerations down both of my arms, and blood drops from wounds there and the lip he split mere seconds ago. The putrid stench of human waste assaults my lungs every second of every day, made even worse by my enhanced senses. I may not be able to feel my wolf, but that particular ability has remained. It should be a win, but all it does is make it more difficult to survive. The cool stone walls surrounding me contain most of my screams. That or those residing in this castle cannot be bothered to care that the woman they once regarded as their princess is being tortured below. The area is open, with heavy chains instead of the bars of a prison. After all, it’s easier to cause your prisoners pain when they’re accessible. Pain. Julius believes the torture will make me shift. That his abuse will force me to become my wolf. And, no matter how many times I’ve told him the truth—that I cannot shift because he killed Merrick—he persists. Merrick. Grief swells in my chest. It burns my throat as I fight back another onslaught of tears. “Such a mouth on you now.” King Julius kneels in front of me, just out of reach, thanks to the chains binding me to the wall. He wipes the side of his face with the back of his hand. “That savage had his way with your mind as well, didn’t he? Poisoning you to your own land. You always were weak, Kiya. But this type of treachery is pathetic. Even for an orphan like you.” “This is not my land,” I snarl. “And you are not my king!” Julius grins and straightens. “I am your king, you pathetic girl. And this kingdom is your land—your home—at least until your child is old enough to be off the breast and I can bury you beneath it.” “Yes. Because beating me is conducive to me carrying a child.” “You admit it then?” he questions, brow raised. “You are carrying the child of that animal?” “I’m not pregnant,” I growl. “Are you hard of hearing? Or just that fucking stupid?” He crosses his arms and eyes me in a way that has my blood running cold. “For both our sakes, I certainly hope you are. Because it will be rather distasteful for me to have to take the loose leftovers of a fucking savage.” Loose leftovers. The fucking bastard. My heart stills, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “I won’t let you touch me,” I growl. “I will impale myself on whatever I can find before I let you anywhere near me, you murderous asshole!” I scream it, spittle flying from my mouth as I do. But Julius is unaffected by my outburst. “You don’t have a choice here, Kiya. You never have had one. Not when your bitch mother died, not when Pallgard brought you here, and certainly not when I fucking sold you to that savage. What the hell makes you think you have a choice now?” “Someone will come for me,” I choke out. “Someone will come. And you will die.” The king grins. “The