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  Say You’re Mine

  Aliyah Burke

  One’s weakness is another’s strength.

  Casimir Lars is the Alpha of the Tatra Pack. He fought hard to become the leader he is today. He refuses to show weakness or allow others to take advantage of him. He’s dedicated to his pack, strong and fearless, yet his life is thrown into upheaval when he has to track down a very specific woman: his wife.

  Dyana Vance is a headstrong professional archer—not the type to trust blindly when a stranger shows up claiming to be her husband. There’s no denying the explosive chemistry she has with Casimir, but she isn’t pack and refuses to be bound by their laws.

  Casimir is torn between his growing feelings toward her and what he believes is his duty to mate with a pack female. Dyana learns to deal with loss and discovery of something new. Death, plots, and undeniable passion all fly around this couple. When he accepts what is to be, will he be too late or will his pride have pushed her away forever? Will she ever look at him and say you’re mine?

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement of the copyright of this work.

  SAY YOU’RE MINE

  Dubious Series

  Copyright © 2015 ALIYAH BURKE

  ISBN: 978-1-943576-79-1

  All Romance eBooks, LLC Palm Harbor, Florida 34684 www.allromanceebooks.com

  This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events, or locales is coincidental.

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever with out written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First All Romance eBooks publication: April 2016

  Chapter One

  The charred remains of the land were barren and sorrowful. Two cars drove up from different directions and met on a patch of unburnt ground. A couple emerged from each vehicle.

  “Are you sure you want to do this, Rachelle?” an older black man asked.

  “We won’t be around forever, Donavan. She needs—I need to know she will be protected.”

  Donovan opened the back door and lifted the baby from her car seat. Her brown eyes watched him trustingly and lovingly. Nuzzling the cherubic face, he sighed. Rachelle joined him and settled a hand on his arm.

  “This will work out.”

  He wasn’t as optimistic. Glancing over the roof of his sedan, he spied the other couple. Uncertainty filled him but he did his best to contain it. They made him uneasy. From the inside of their luxury vehicle a thin boy emerged. His hair was stringy and he looked as if he rarely saw the sun.

  His wife tightened her grip on his arm when he hesitated. Brushing a kiss along the baby’s head, he forced himself to move.

  “How are you?” he asked as they met on green grass. There were no remnants or burn marks on the other female.

  “Much better, thank you.” The woman was the one who answered him. “Again, thank you for saving my life.”

  He gave a small smile, his unease ratcheting up as the air around them thickened with danger. In his arms, his granddaughter looked up at him and stuck out her lower lip, tears welling up in her eyes.

  “Let’s get this over with.”

  The man spoke to the boy in a language Donovan didn’t understand. The young child coughed and nodded before walking up to him and holding out his arms.

  Donovan reluctantly handed over the baby to the boy who, despite his frail body, held her securely in his pale, stick-like arms. His granddaughter’s skin, dark against him.

  “As long as this is valid,” the man said. “She will be considered one of our own. Protected. Defended. If ever she needs anything it will be provided.”

  As long as it’s valid? I thought this was supposed to be legal and binding. Marriages usually are. He’d heard of shifters but until the night he and Rachelle had witnessed the raging forest fire that damaged the land and he’d had saved the woman who’d been tied up in a trunk—about to be burned alive—he’d never seen one. They had been naught but rumor to him. Now that he’d met them, he wished they were still just rumor.

  “You saved my mate and wanted nothing for yourself. You did so at risk of your own peril. For that I can never repay you. You wanted something for your granddaughter. With this arrangement, she will be part of our pack.”

  Perhaps money would have been a smarter way to go.

  “Thank you,” Donovan said, slanting a peek at his wife. She’d been the one who pushed this. And it made him wonder. Her typically vocal self was unusually quiet. And Donovan was extremely suspicious.

  The man—whose name he still didn’t know—said some things in that language he didn’t know. And that was it. The child, with his watery blue eyes, handed her back and Donovan took her quickly.

  “Good day.” His words came yet he was unsure what was proper to say at a time like this. He walked back to his older car and fastened her back in the car seat. Rachelle stood talking to them and he watched her.

  When she returned to the car, he slid behind the wheel and started the engine. Her smile was in place and she leaned back with a sigh.

  “That went well.”

  He turned around and drove away, glimpsing the young boy in the rear view mirror as he climbed back into his car.

  “Well?”

  “Yes. She is safe and provided for now. The family is large, wealthy, well-respected, and very powerful. They own all of this.”

  “Why would they keep their word? She’s nothing to them and that boy is sickly.”

  She patted his arm. “It will be for the best.”

  Personally, he wasn’t as confident. Arranged marriages weren’t necessarily successful. Peering in the rear view again, he stared at the eight-month old bundled up. She opened her eyes and sent him another heart-melting smile.

  Lord help him, he hoped they hadn’t just committed a grievous error.

  25 years later

  Casimir Lars fought off his increasing agitation. This woman was proving to be a bear to track down. He remained alert, not about to let his guard down.

  Spying the coffee shop he sought, he strode across the street, well aware yet ignoring those who watched him. Mostly women, and he could sense the lust coming from them. He pushed through and scanned the patrons. The only information he had was she was a black woman. That was it. Oh, and her name.

  His phone vibrated. “What?”

  “How’s the hunt going?”

  “Not in the mood, Kraven.” Mattias Kraven, not just one of his top lieutenants but the top and his best friend.

  The laughter, unapologetic. “I am sending you her picture. I finally located one.”

  “Good.” It had both baffled and annoyed him no pictures were found of her. “Anything else?”

  “Two from the Western Clan are coming in to discuss the issues we’ve been having along their border with them. I will handle it.”

  “Make sure the cubs are there to apologize, we don’t need to be at war with them.”

  “I will. Have fun.”

  More unappreciated laughter. Casimir hung up and waited for the image and name. When he saw it, he understood why they’d not found her. Her last name was different than his grandparents had given him.

  Dyana Vance. Not Hunt like they’d assumed. A lot more information popped up but he ignored it. It wasn’t pertinent to learn about her, just to get what he came for.

  He spied her in the far corner. Unlike most who occupied the place, she read an actual book instead of being on an electronic device. He read the title and realized he had no clue what Straits of Power was about, although with the submarine on the cover, he deduced an idea. He also hadn’t
heard of the author, Joe Buff.

  He strolled over to her table and waited for her to acknowledge him. She finished her page before deigning to glance at him. Her brown eyes snared him, the amber flecks they contained were unique. One eyebrow had a slash through it and rose.

  She summarily dismissed him and went back to her book. He frowned; being the alpha of his pack, he wasn’t used to being waved off like yesterday’s trash.

  “Yana!” A female hollered from behind him.

  His target closed her book immediately and slid it into an old tatty black backpack. She got to her feet, shouldered her bag, and brushed by him without a word.

  “I’m coming, Shyla.”

  “We’re going to be late!”

  “We’ll be the first ones there. As usual. I don’t think the Bankses will party without you.”

  Humor laced her tone. His wolf perked up its ears but other than that showed no more than a passing interest. He realized she was on her way out and turned to stop her, no way he was leaving without getting what he came for.

  She stood by her friend, Shyla. A pretty petite blonde with a huge smile. Even less reaction from his wolf. He took a step in their direction when someone else came up to them. A black woman who also smiled a lot.

  Dyana shoved a hand through her straight hair and the sun gleamed off the gold highlights as she laughed at her friend’s comment. She had a nice laugh.

  A new scent hit him. It garnered a response from him and his wolf. Turning back, he instantly spotted the man who’d entered via the other door.

  He looked like the majority of the people he’d seen, however, the scent he emitted told an entirely different story. The man hunted. When he met Casimir’s gaze, he deferred immediately. He was a beta all the way around and wouldn’t challenge an alpha.

  With a blink, Casimir glanced back to where she’d been. She was gone. Ignoring his wolf’s amusement, he locked onto her scent and began tracking her.

  She and her friends stood at an outdoor stall, admiring the purses. More the other two. Ready to go home, he approached and waited for eye contact. When she noticed him, her eyes narrowed and he became more alert.

  “You were watching me in the coffee shop. Something I can do for you, hoss?”

  Hoss? He truly needed to get home.

  “Dyana Vance?”

  She sucked on her teeth while her friends paid a bit more attention to the both of them. “Who are you?”

  “Casimir Lars.”

  He waited. Waited for the recognition to appear. Perhaps even a little bit of awe. What he got was her unwrapping and popping in two pieces of gum. Mint. “That name supposed to mean something to me?”

  “Yes.”

  She shared an amused look with her friends. “One o’ y’all put him up to this?” They both shook their heads. “Sorry, hoss. It means nothing.”

  He caught a flash of pain which whisked across her sienna skin. His wolf lifted his head, his need to protect others strong.

  “We met before.” He exhaled sharply, his wolf responding to his increased agitation. “I need five minutes of your time.”

  “No can do. I will say, it’s a line I’ve not heard before, Casimir Lars.”

  Dyana walked away with her friends. It wasn’t until he watched her step onto the waiting bus he realized she had a limp. His lip curled. She had a weakness. Something others could exploit.

  A similar scent filtered through the others in the air to his nostrils. His wolf rumbled in time with his own. There was someone out there after him. He knew when he was being hunted. This wasn’t his turf and he’d come alone without protection. Not that he needed it. However, the hunters were severely underestimating him if they thought they would succeed. Not only was he an alpha. He was the Alpha of his pack.

  He couldn’t pinpoint exactly where it came from. His phone rang and he answered it as he returned to his vehicle.

  “What?”

  “Is it done?” His grandfather’s baritone reached him.

  “No, sir.”

  “What’s the hold up?”

  “She doesn’t remember me. My name means nothing to her at all.” Yep, that still grated.

  “Should be easy to get her agreement then.” His grandfather hung up.

  “If you hadn’t done this in the first place, I wouldn’t need to acquire it,” he snapped to the air.

  It took him a while but he learned the location of the Bankses’ party. Darkness had begun descending when he pulled up to the large field where people had parked. He did so as well then fell behind a group of excited people and followed them. It wasn’t necessary the noise would have led him in as well.

  The stage was homemade and had a DJ who knew exactly what the crowd wanted to hear. Loud. Bass filled tunes. Not his thing and he had to fight not to wince at the pain it gave his eardrums.

  He smelled sex, booze, and drugs wafting around. Heading to the outskirts he searched for her. And found her dancing with a man who was all over her. Casimir was swarmed with the desire to smash him, it was a powerful urge. And one he chalked up to the current situation.

  When the song ended he made his way to her, even as they began dancing to another pounding beat.

  “My dance,” he rasped, inserting himself between them.

  “Dude!”

  Whipping his head, he glared at the young man, allowing some of his wolf to leak through. The man fell back, stumbled over his feet, and scampered off.

  “What are you, a stalker?” Her words held an edge.

  “I told you, I need a moment of your time.”

  “You said five minutes and I said no. After which you trail me here. What gives?”

  “Give me my five minutes?” She rolled her eyes. “Perhaps you would like to sit, rest your leg.”

  Her expression grew angry. “I’m not an invalid and I suggest you change the ’tude if you don’t want to lose your family jewels.”

  Feisty. And not swooning over him. He took a chance and reached for her. Were she wolf he would have sworn her eyes changed. “To the side?”

  She led the way and he found he was staring at her ass and tried to stop. Tried.

  “Speak.”

  “Do you really not know who I am?”

  “Besides my apparent new stalker? No.”

  “I’m your husband and I need you to sign some papers so we can be divorced, in order for me to marry my mate.”

  In the flashing and strobe lights from the party he watched her expression. She blinked. Once. Twice. Three times.

  Then she laughed.

  αβ

  Dyana gulped air as fast as she could. Difficult to do as hard as she was laughing. Her husband. Correction. Her husband whom she’d never met and wanted her agreement on a divorce so he could marry another.

  Lord, her gut hurt from her laughter. Slanting her gaze askew, she knew he was less than thrilled by her behavior. He stood, feet braced apart, shoulder width and his arms were crossed. The scowl on his face would have sent her packing for the hills had she not still been doubled over.

  Man was hot. As in panty-soaking hot. Not an ounce of fat on him and she couldn’t help being impressed with his blatant muscles. His jeans were drool-worthy and his black shirt sent her mind down a road she didn’t need to travel. Especially with a divorce on the horizon. His leather coat enhanced his movement.

  He was big, powerful, and intimidating. And according to him, all mine. At least until she signed some papers. Her body reacted sexually and she swore his eyes changed, giving him an almost wild look.

  “I’m sorry, hoss. Did you just roll up on me and say you were my husband?”

  He stepped closer and she found herself surrounded by an amazing—and arousing—masculine scent. Ignoring her physical reaction to him, she mimicked him, crossing her arms.

  “How can you not know?”

  “Prob because it didn’t happen. Pretty sure I would remember getting married.”

  One of the strobes slashed over him an
d for the second time in mere moments she compared him to a wild animal. A predator.

  “You’re going to have to—” His cell rang and he snapped a greeting in it.

  When he turned away, she went back to the party. She stood with Shyla and Regina by the food tables, eating chips, when he showed up again.

  “We hadn’t finished talking.”

  Her girls gave her a look she understood. And she delivered a one-fingered salute right back to them. “You were the one who took a phone call.”

  A few people jostled her as they went down the line. He scowled.

  “I need you to come to Washington with me.”

  She almost choked. Bless her friends, they immediately stepped near. Shyla began tapping her foot.

  “Why are you following her? What do you want with our Yana?”

  Sucking her finger clean of the flavor from the chips, Dyana cleared her throat. “Allow me to add in something he left out before when he introduced himself. He’s my husband.”

  “What?” Regina.

  “Excuse me?” Shyla.

  She drank some beer. “Yeah, go figure, huh. Guess I went n’ married someone without knowing it.” Dyana winked at her friends before staring back into those light, bold, blue eyes. “I forget, how long have we been married, hoss?”

  “Can we go somewhere and talk about this?”

  “Sure,” she said drolly, finishing her beer. “Would you like me to just take a roofie and save you the problem of a struggle?”

  He blinked, drawing back as a furrow appeared in his brow. “You think I want to drug you?”

  “The thought had crossed my mind. You’re stalking me and now want me to go across the country with you. How shall I put this? If that’s your pickup line, it needs a serious overhaul. I ain’t going anywhere with you. Goodbye, Casimir Lars.”

  She gave him a smile. Leaving, she tossed her bottle, like she was shooting a three-pointer, into a recycling bin as they passed it.

  “Is he really your husband?” Shyla asked as they piled into Regina’s convertible.

  Dyana hooked her belt and held up her left hand. “Ain’t no ring on my finger that I see.”