Emily's Protective Doms [Leopards of Leopold 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)
Leopards of Leopold 5
Emily’s Protective Doms
Submissive hawk shifter Emily Perrault spent all her life running away from her crazy mobster family. Injured, lost, and dead broke, Emily ends up in Leopold City. Fate unexpectedly lends her a hand when she’s delivered into the arms of two dominant shifter males, a werewolf and his leopard shifter mate.
Sam Daniels is happily mated to James Scott. Sam smelled trouble the moment a naked and battered female collapsed on their balcony, but he couldn’t just turn a blind eye to the injured hawk. Emily doesn’t just rouse Sam and James’s protective instincts. She’s the perfect submissive and third they’ve been looking for, even if she comes with dangerous luggage.
Genre: BDSM, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal, Shape-shifter
Length: 25,036 words
EMILY’S PROTECTIVE DOMS
Leopards of Leopold 5
Fel Fern
MENAGE AMOUR
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Amour
EMILY’S PROTECTIVE DOMS
Copyright © 2015 by Fel Fern
E-book ISBN: 978-1-63259-717-5
First E-book Publication: September 2015
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2015 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
If you have purchased this copy of Emily’s Protective Doms by Fel Fern from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
Regarding E-book Piracy
This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.
The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.
This is Fel Fern’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Fel Fern’s right to earn a living from her work.
Amanda Hilton, Publisher
www.SirenPublishing.com
www.BookStrand.com
DEDICATION
To my readers, thank you for your support. I hope you enjoy James’s, Sam’s, and Emily’s story.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
About the Author
EMILY’S PROTECTIVE DOMS
Leopards of Leopold 5
FEL FERN
Copyright © 2015
Chapter One
“A bride shouldn’t shed tears on her wedding day. You’ll ruin your makeup,” Heather Perrault murmured. “You should be excited.”
She reached out to wipe away the single trail of tears sliding down Emily’s cheek, but Emily pushed her hand away.
Surrounded by a gaggle of twittering relatives, Emily had her mask firmly in place. She smiled until it hurt, thanked them politely for coming to see her shame, and lied flawlessly about being happy. It was expected of her as the daughter of a mob boss, as a member of the one of the ruling crime families of Stocoma City.
With her mother, Emily took her mask off and bared her teeth. She was tired of pretension. Heather stiffened, as if she knew the words that would come out of Emily’s mouth contained poison. There was no love lost between Heather and Emily, but God knew Heather did her best to be a mother.
This is the same woman who once made me cookies. Who bandaged my knee when I scraped it, but when family duty demanded it, she would not hesitate to set her children aside to further her ambitions.
Heather was Godfrey Perrault’s third wife, but before that she had been his mistress.
“I’m ecstatic, mother. So fucking pleased my family sold me off to a stranger like a well-bred bitch, to be beaten, mounted when he likes then be set aside after.” Emily heard the ringing slap on her left cheek, before she felt the sting.
“Bennet Ferrell is a respected member of both the business and shifter community. Do you have any idea how many women would kill to be in your shoes?”
“You don’t need to pretend with me. I know the legal front he runs and the illegal. He’s an arrogant bear shifter. A prick and a glorified drug dealer.”
Heather’s face tightened with anger, but this time she stayed her hand. We can’t bruise up the bride, before her husband lays a hand on her, can we?
“I’d like a moment alone.” Heather stiffened at Emily’s request. Emily didn’t miss the fact her gaze briefly checked the elegant dressing room for possible exit routes. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head off. You’ve trained me to be a good little bird. I’ll act out my part and say my lines perfectly.”
Emily didn’t hide the sarcasm in her voice. Her little speech seemed to satisfy Heather. Heather turned on her heels and walked to the door. To Emily’s surprise, she paused, red painted nails gripping the doorknob.
“Among my children, you were always the dreamer, Emily. You always loved fairytales and playing princes and princesses, but this is the real world and a Perrault hawk cannot afford to cry or show weakness.”
“You don’t need to remind me. I’ve been born with wings, but I’ve never been truly free. This life has never been truly mine,” Emily said bitterly.
Heather opened the door, and music spilled out, mingling with the sound of laughter and conversations between guests. A reminder Emily had a long night ahead of her.
Once the door shut, Emily gazed at the full-lengt
h mirror in front of her. She barely recognized the woman in front of her. A beautiful bride stared back at her, auburn curls tamed under a simple tiara, her expensive ivory dress molded perfectly into her figure.
She tried to smile, but the smile did not quite reach her sapphire eyes. Emily balled her gloved hands to her side. The elbow-length lace felt hot and constricting. So did the dress that probably cost her father a fortune.
What did it matter? Bennet would rip it off her without a second thought. Emily wasn’t naïve or a virgin. In fact, she was submissive by nature and liked a little edge and play in sex, but she had heard rumors of the drug mongrel and how women mysteriously disappeared under his roof. Her stomach churned just thinking about being in the same bed, let alone the same space with a monster.
God. Emily felt like she had lived in cage all her life under her family, and this was what her obedience got her in the end. Another cage, worse than the one she had been bred in. Suddenly, it hurt to breathe. Emily tore at her gloves, and she swore she could practically hear her bare skin sigh in relief.
“Breathe in. Breathe out.” Hearing the sound of her own voice helped Emily think.
A reckless idea began to bloom inside her head, a plan with disastrous consequences if she failed, but Emily was done thinking and second-guessing herself. How many times had she daydreamed of escape, only to be dissuaded because of her own cowardice?
“It’s now, or never.”
Calmly, Emily walked to the door and clicked the lock shut. There was a polite knock on the wood soon after.
“I’ll be out in a minute. I’m just fixing up my mascara.” Em’s voice sounded dismissive and uncaring. They have trained me too well.
Then she walked to the rosewood dresser and pulled out a pair of scissors from the emergency sewing kit one of her bridesmaids left behind. Emily poised the metal teeth to the hem of her dress, shocked by the ripping sound it made as it tore through thousands of dollars’ worth of fabric. Each rip she made, her skin breathed easier.
A series of insistent knocks pounded on the door.
“Another minute, please.”
Emily felt like she was undoing the neat little stitches that made up her life in one violet jerk. Loose threads. Emily cut her way out of her dress, and her carefully picked undergarments. She undid her hair, tossed the diamond-encrusted tiara away and shook her fiery curls loose.
“Emily, what are you doing in there?” Came the suspicious voice of her older sister Violet. “Mother asked me to check on you. Do you need help with something?”
“One of the pins in my hair fell loose. I need to make a quick trip to the bathroom, too.” Emily kicked off her matching pristine white heels and walked, barefoot and naked to the bathroom. She locked the door behind her and studied the tiny window. It had to do.
Outside the bathroom, her supernatural hearing caught the sound of the wood splintering and Violet’s questions turning to threats. Emily took a deep breath and reached for her hawk.
“Emily, don’t do it. If you run, it won’t be just father’s men after you. Bennet’s men would join in the search and who knows what they will do,” Violet yelled behind the door. Only one layer of wood separated them now.
Emily’s heart thumped painfully in her chest. Violet’s words resounded with the truth, but Emily stood her ground. She couldn’t turn back now, not when she could see the clear blue skies outside the suffocating box.
“Come on, little sister, let’s talk about this rationally. I’ve already told Leah to run down to the nearest wedding dress shop. She can find…”
Em’s bones crunched and shifted, feathers replaced human skin and talons and a pair of graceful red-tipped wings replaced her limbs. The door gave way just as Emily managed to squeeze herself out the window.
“Emily, don’t do this. Please. I’ll come with you. We’ll both talk to father.” The genuine concern and pleading in Violet’s eyes made her pause.
Wind caressed her feathers, her face, and teased her with something she never had. Freedom. She turned her golden gaze to the sky, and knew her decision was made. Emily flared her wings opened and lifted herself into the sky. Violet let out an anguished cry. It was only much later Emily realized why the sound unnerved her. Violet had always been fearless, so it was odd why that cry was full of fear.
Chapter Two
James Scott double-checked his reflection in the rear mirror of his car. A semi-presentable guy holding a bunch of flowers stared back at him. Jesus. The last time James had ever been this dressed up was for his parents’ funeral, and he was twelve then.
James wasn’t a neat collared shirt and sports jacket kind of guy. He had always been the scruffy jeans and plain shirt sort who liked working with his hands. The only man he would dress up was for his mate, Sam.
Speaking of his mate, James sensed Sam through their mate bonds even before Sam walked out the doors of his workplace. James fidgeted with his collar, grabbed hold of the daisies and got out of the car so he could be the first thing Sam saw. People dressed in suits came out of the Jameson building’s glass doors, but his mate bonds tingled the moment his mate walked through.
Like the opposite poles of a magnet, Sam saw James leaning by his beat-up car. Sam broke into a grin. The obvious pleasure there made his jeans feel tight. Sam looked absurdly good, like some damn model. Dressed in a suit that fit his hard lean frame, wind stirred his short sandy-colored hair, leaving his handsome face clear and his blue eyes twinkling with mischief.
He and Sam were fire and ice. Sam was twenty-five, a werewolf, and an accountant by day, while James was ten years older, a wereleopard and all rough edges, but they shared the same dark passions, the same soul. James rubbed at the permanent bite mark on the left side of his neck. Sam’s mate mark. The same spot where he made his on Sam’s neck.
“Hey handsome, are those flowers for me?” Sam asked, loosening his tie. Sam gave his appearance a sweeping glance. His smile grew wide, cocky and boyishly handsome. “You’re all dressed up for me too, baby?”
Not caring who watched, James pulled him close and kissed him hard. Sam’s eyes widened, but he opened his lips to let James’s prodding tongue in. James released his lips.
“I was planning to take you somewhere nice too, but since you’re being such a mouthy pup, I think I want to eat in for dinner, then tie you up and give you a spanking you rightly deserve.”
Sam’s cheeks flushed red. James chuckled. It was good having a switch for a mate, although they had often talked about adding a third to the mix. Wereleopards mated in threes, and Sam wasn’t new to the culture since James’s leopard king and entire pard adopted and raised Sam and his younger sister Rain when they were kids.
“Sounds like a solid plan. My head’s been swimming in numbers all day. I need a break,” Sam confessed.
“Chinese take-out?” James suggested. They got in his truck.
“I’ll go ahead and order the usual.” Sam picked up his cell as James started the engine.
Watching his mate from the mirror, James couldn’t help feel a wave of familiar guilt. It had been a month since Sam and Rain’s abusive and dangerous father came to town to mess with them and the Leopold pard. Four weeks ago, since James failed his mate. He took his eyes from Sam for a moment and the next instant Sam was gone, kidnapped by a dangerous and psychotic werewolf. Sam’s biological father.
James got himself shot in the process, and while the bullet wound healed ages ago with his supernatural healing abilities, the reminder of his failure to protect his mate still haunted him.
James gripped the steering wheel hard until his knuckles turned white. Fuck. How could Sam even forgive him and go on as if nothing happened, after he failed him badly? After James swore to Lars, the pard king and Sam’s adoptive father, he’d risk his life protecting Sam?
“Hey.” Sam interrupted his line of thoughts. James felt the brush of Sam’s lips on his cheek. “Come on, James. You’re still thinking about that incident? Hadn’t we talked ab
out this?”
Damn. James hated Sam knew him too well. “Sorry. I didn’t want to spoil tonight.”
“You haven’t spoiled it yet, big guy.” Sam’s grin was infectious. His mate always seemed to know how to cheer him up. “What else do you have planned?”
“Got some new toys I want to try on you.”
Sam squirmed in his seat. “Yeah? You’re going to leave me in suspense?”
“It’s supposed to be a surprise,” James chided.
“Sorry, Sir.”
James felt smug at that. He knew Sam liked switching between Dom and sub. When they headed to Extreme, the exclusive, local BDSM club that catered for shifters, they always topped a willing and eager sub. Still, James treasured the rare moments Sam played bottom for him.
The drive back to the apartment they shared took longer than expected. James’s phone rang as he parked the car by the curb. Seeing Lars’s number flashed on screen, James asked Sam to get it.
“Good news, or bad news?” James asked, killing the ignition just as Sam ended the call.
Sam shrugged. “Lars just mentioned something about keeping an eye out for some dangerous newcomers in town. Goons from a shifter mob.”
James frowned. He was one of the pard enforcers, so he made it his business to find out if there was any threat to his large extended family. “Sounds damn ominous, but that’s all he said?”
“Yup. Want to call him?” Sam asked. They both walked to their apartment. James didn’t fail to notice the way Sam held on to the daises he gave him.