Stolen Queen

STOLEN QUEEN A DARK CAPTIVE ROMANCE JESI DONOVAN Copyright © 2023 Jesi Donovan All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact Jesi Donovan at [email protected]. Exceptions: Reviewers may quote brief passages for reviews. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. To all the ladies that have been held back by someone or something: may you find the strength to take your power back. CONTENTS 1. Arcturus 2. Elspeth 3. Bray 4. Elspeth 5. Fausto 6. Elspeth 7. Elspeth 8. Arcturus 9. Elspeth 10. Elspeth 11. Bray 12. Elspeth 13. Elspeth 14. Fausto 15. Elspeth 16. Elspeth 17. Arcturus 18. Elspeth 19. Elspeth 20. Bray 21. Elspeth 22. Elspeth 23. Fausto 24. Elspeth 25. Elspeth 26. Bray 27. Elspeth 28. Elspeth 29. Fausto 30. Elspeth 31. Elspeth 32. Arcturus 33. Elspeth 34. Elspeth 35. Fausto 36. Elspeth Thank you for reading! Have you left a review? Follow Jesi Donovan ARCTURUS Bray is afraid of nothing. He sinks his teeth into the officer’s throat and pulls back as the man screams; the echo of his yells lasts longer than his life. Blood drips down Bray’s face coating his muzzle and chest in slick red liquid. One look in my direction tells me that he’s finished. He drops the leftover skin and sinew onto the ground and leads the way. We slink through the streets of the Cersei district under the cover of darkness. The moon shines high above, casting a silhouette onto cobblestones when we emerge from the shadows. Curtains are drawn and doors are locked tight when people see us prowling the street. The Cersei district is used to wolf shifters. The men and women in charge are all shifters of some sort. But they know just by glancing our way that we do not belong, that we are meant to be feared. Or perhaps they recognize our faces from the newspaper. The Mad Kings, they call us, a filthy moniker devised by men that can’t destroy us. Whatever it is, it convinces them to stay behind closed doors and let us raid their district in ELSPETH I’ve been prepared for this moment my entire life. When the screams jolt me from my sleep, my body breaks into a cold sweat as I leap from my bed and head for the closet. My father’s words come back to me in waves. Take the tunnels. Make sure to close the door so no one sees you. Go to the police. He’s been giving me these instructions for as long as I can remember. My father drilled them into my head from the day I turned five. He never let me move rooms because he was afraid that I wouldn’t remember where to go. The hidden passage in my closet is the first place that I head for. I barely graze the handle of the closet door when I’m grabbed from around the waist and yanked backward. A wolf with blood all over its face has me in its clutches. “No!” I scream as I beat the beast on the muzzle and shoulders, anything to escape his grasp. I have never seen this wolf before. “Let me go! I’m not the one you’re looking for!” My heart races as he takes me toward the window.