Eternal Mates Big Book Bundle, Books 1-11

Olivia had never seen anything like the male specimen on the inspection table in front of her.

Her heart raced. She hadn’t experienced this explosive combination of uncertainty, anticipation and enthusiasm in a long time, ever since her superiors had stripped her of her rank and sent her to this satellite facility in London, taking away her high-level privileges and forcing her to work on studying demon and fae species already extensively researched. It still felt as though they had shoved her out of sight, burying her in the Archangel equivalent of a basement to punish her for her mistake. She had lost all hope of removing the taint it had left on her name in the organisation.

Until now.

The specimen lying right in front of her was her chance to prove herself again, a gift that some higher power had literally dumped on her doorstep.

Blood stained his neck and splashed across his jaw, and pooled at the left corner of his mouth too, luring Olivia’s gaze to firm sensual lips that had her staring blankly, lost in their perfection. She blinked herself out of her trance. Time was of the essence. She needed to get her study underway before her guest woke up or one of the other doctors belonging to the facility barged in and tried to take over.

She shook her hands to steady them, pulled her digital recorder from the pocket of her white coat, and turned it on. She set it on the silver trolley filled with all the equipment she thought she might need to complete her inspection of their unconscious guest.

Olivia tugged on a pair of latex gloves and ran her fingers over the scalpels and tools, and settled on a pair of shears. It had been a long time since she had been able to work on a live specimen and she wanted to start by getting his vitals monitored.

She picked up the shears and cut down the middle of his long black tunic style jacket. Red stained her cream gloves.

“Specimen appears to have suffered severe injuries, worse than at first thought, resulting in a high level of blood loss.” She reached the end of his jacket and peeled the two sides back. She paused, her eyes widening at the impressive display of taut honed muscles under tight bloodstained and bruised skin. “Specimen also isn’t wearing anything under his coat.”

Completely unprofessional of her but she had expected at least some sort of undershirt, and she certainly hadn’t anticipated a body like this. She drew in a shaky breath, mentally told herself to get it together, and cut upwards along each of his sleeves. She peeled the two sides of his ruined jacket away from his body and set them down on the tray.

“Multiple lacerations and abrasions on his torso and arms. Many appear to be claw marks. Possible demon attack. Subject wears matching black and silver metal bands on each wrist.” Olivia spread her fingers and stroked along the lines of four long slashes over his left deltoid. She gasped. “Specimen has markings on his body that hadn’t been visible prior to interaction with him.”

Olivia tracked the symbols with her fingertips, following them as they formed a curl over his deltoid to his shoulder. Whenever she moved along the line, more symbols appeared, luring her fingers. The colourful swirls and glyphs shimmered through the blood staining him. They swept over his shoulder and under his collarbone, and suddenly she was caressing his left pectoral, chasing them as they followed the shape of his muscle downwards over his heart and around across his torso, and then curled under his nipple to end in a point there.

She had never seen anything like this. It fascinated her. The ones that curled around his deltoid were already fading, disappearing into his skin.

She had made it her business to study the written languages of the fae and demons, because many non-humans bore markings like this and it made it easier to identify the species of the owner. Incubi were born with lines of symbols on their skin that not only changed colour to show their mood, but also detailed their lineage, proudly displaying their heritage in the paternal line. The symbols inked on this male’s skin weren’t that of the common fae language though. They were new to her.

“Specimen’s markings seem limited to his upper torso.” She leaned over him and swept a single finger across his right pectoral, and sure enough, markings appeared there too, perfectly mirroring the design she had followed. Olivia used the shears to cut through the waist of his black trousers and froze when more markings shimmered over his hipbone. “Correction. Specimen’s markings continue on his lower body, notably his hips.”

Olivia flicked a glance at the front of his trousers. If this lean, unusual male didn’t wear an undershirt, what were the chances he wasn’t wearing underwear too?

She curled her fingers into fists and stifled the blush that crept onto her cheeks. She had seen plenty of nude men during her years as a doctor and in her personal life too. He was just a specimen. Her gaze roamed to his handsome face, taking in its sculpted perfection. A very gorgeous specimen.

Her heart beat harder and she rolled her shoulders. She had to get a grip. This was her chance. If she had never seen anything like this man, then there was a chance neither had the other scientists employed by Archangel. All those scientists that were currently enjoying a soiree at headquarters, leaving her as the only medical staff in the building. If she could document everything about this male, and figure out what species of demon or fae he was, then her superiors would have to give her some credit, and maybe she could get back to doing what she loved most—studying new species.

So, she had to do this. He was just another subject.

Olivia cut away his trousers, running the shears straight down each long, toned leg. She removed the central part and swallowed as her gaze betrayed her, darting to his groin. No underwear. Her face flushed. Oh my. The man was built like a god with not an ounce of fat on his lithe body. All powerful muscle.

She set the shears down and took another steadying breath before touching the fading marks on his left hip. They brightened again and she followed them.

“Specimen’s markings curl over his hip from behind. Cannot risk moving specimen without harming him to investigate them. They move down past his... groin... and then sweep back around to curl over his hip.” Her heart ran away with her again, her blood rushing through her ears. She hadn’t needed to follow the marks all the way to make the ones that arced around towards his buttocks appear. Her fingers had brushed the ones closest to the dark thatch of curls around his genitals and they had appeared.

His hip twitched beneath her fingertips.

Olivia quickly pulled her hand back and froze. He didn’t move again. The breath she had been holding rushed out of her.

“I am going to proceed with monitoring the specimen’s vitals.” She picked up several of the pads used as contacts for the machines and stuck them to his chest and below his ribs on the left side. If he had a similar physiology to a human as many fae species did, chances were high that she could pick up and monitor his heart rate this way. She connected the wires, switched on the machine, and placed a clip over his index finger. The heart rate monitor beeped slowly but everything else was off the charts. “Specimen shows extremely high levels of oxygen in his blood, beyond normal parameters. What are you?”

She ran her gaze over him. He had taken a severe beating before they had found him unconscious outside the building, as if someone had wanted them to find him.

Sable, her friend and demon hunter extraordinaire, had taken one look at him and her gift had told her that he wasn’t mortal.

The hunters who had helped her bring him in had believed he had crawled to them or had made his own way to their doors. Sable didn’t believe that and neither did Olivia.

No demon or fae in their right mind would place themselves at the mercy of Archangel.

No. Someone had dropped this male on their porch and left him there, wanting Archangel to bring him inside. Why?

It could be a trap and it would be just her luck if it were.

“Specimen appears mortal. Markings on his skin appear fae possibly.” But they hadn’t captured a fae in years and he was nothing like the fae she had read about in the database or seen firsthand. “Specimen is male, estimated six-feet-six, one hundred and eighty to two hundred and twenty pounds. Black hair.”

Olivia inspected his stomach, pressing in to feel his organs. He felt human but something about him, something other than his mysterious markings, told her that he wasn’t. She peered closer at the severe wounds on his stomach and chest.

“Specimen appears to have advanced healing ability. Age of blood around the wounds is indicative of a recent injury, but the wounds in question are already closed and beginning to scab over.” Many demon and fae species had heightened healing. He could be any number of them. Olivia carefully pulled his upper lip back and studied his teeth. “No fangs. Canines appear normal.”

She drew back and something caught her eye. She parted the wild strands of his short black hair and traced the pointed tip of his ear. Was he a demon? They had pointed ears.

Olivia hovered over him, looking down at his handsome bloodstained face. She had never seen a demon as beautiful, mysterious, or deadly as he was.

Deadly.

She could feel it like an aura around him.

He was dangerous.

And waking up.

Olivia scooted backwards and reached for the call button on the wall near the head of the bed. She didn’t make it. His eyes slowly opened and she froze in mid-swing for the button, transfixed by them. They were incredible. She had never seen eyes like his. His irises were the most amazing shade of purple.

His gaze slid towards her but he didn’t move.

“What are you?” Olivia whispered it again as his eyes began to change, shifting to a normal shade of blue, and then his ears changed too, the points dulling until they appeared human. Adapting. He was studying his environment and her, and he was adapting.

It was incredible.

Fascinating.

She lowered her hand to her side and stared at him.

“Specimen appears able to blend into his environment, changing his appearance to conceal himself.”

She had never seen a demon do this. Many of them did it and she had heard the tales from the field agents, but she had never witnessed it.

“You are being held in a secure facility and no harm will come to you.” She hoped he understood English. His blue gaze narrowed with his frown, locked on her mouth as she spoke. Maybe he didn’t understand her.

He sat up in one fluid motion, swinging his legs over the edge of the inspection table, the movement so swift that it startled her and she shot backwards, distancing herself. Her heart thundered in her throat. She should have pressed the call button.

She should have strapped him down.

Stupid.

Her gaze darted to the red button off to her right. Could she make it there and sound the alarm before he attacked?

“Where am I?” The sound of his deep voice sent a fiery tremble through her. It was at odds with his lithe figure. The commanding edge to it had her forgetting the call button and automatically answering him, because he didn’t sound like the sort of man you could piss off and live to tell the tale.

“At a secure research facility in London.” She hoped he didn’t ask what she had been doing to him while he had been unconscious because now that he was awake, very awake, that sense of danger he radiated had only grown stronger. Her shot at resuscitating her ailing career looked as though he might kill her if he didn’t like any of the answers to his questions.

His blue gaze moved around the room, cataloguing everything, a keen edge to it. Strategising. He had adapted to blend into his environment and now he was plotting a way out of it.

“How did you do that?” she said, unable to get her voice above a whisper. His attention snapped back to her.

“How did I do what?” He could definitely grasp her language.

“Your eyes... your ears.” She pointed a shaky finger at them.

He planted his hands on the edge of the table on either side of his hips and she struggled not to look down. Her guest didn’t appear to have any qualms about being naked in front of a stranger. He sat on the table, frowning at the equipment in the room. His gaze caught on the wires attached to the machines and he followed them to his chest. He raised a single black eyebrow and pulled the sticky pads off his body.

“Strange to ask me how and not why,” he said at last and looked up at her through his long black lashes, his blue eyes holding a glimmer of curiosity.

“I’m a medical doctor... a scientist.” She pulled at the chest of her long white coat, drawing his attention to it.

He glanced at it and then back around the room. His gaze lingered on the tray of tools to his left, narrowed, and then slid to her. A threat. She had enough experience of the world to know when someone was silently threatening her. He didn’t intend to use the scalpels and other implements on her. No. He meant to warn her that if she dared to attempt to use them on him, she would come off worse.

Olivia held her hands up in front of her. “Listen, I’m just curious about your species, and the things you can do. I wanted to help you.”

He grimaced and his grip on the edge of the table tightened until his arms shook. He ground out dark words in a foreign tongue and paled further. The edges of his irises turned purple.

The heart rate monitor still linked to his finger went crazy. He scowled at the machine and tried to move to take the clip off. His hands trembled violently.

“You’re not well.” Olivia reached out to steady him, instinct telling her to help him. She caught his upper arms and gasped. He was burning up, shaking beneath her fingers, his skin clammy. “You need to rest.”

“I will be fine... with a little fluids.” Pain grated in his deep voice and he swallowed hard.

“I wasn’t sure what to give you.” Olivia pressed her palm to his forehead. A fever? Was it part of his healing process or was his condition deteriorating? “I wasn’t sure what would harm or help you.”

He leaned forwards and his breath skated over her bare neck. She shivered, a hot rush sweeping through her.

“I know what fluid I need,” he whispered low, his voice barely there and teasing, stirring unbidden heat in her veins and quickening her pulse.

“Tell me and I’ll get it.” She tried to draw back and his hands shot up, fingers closing tightly around her upper arms.

“Oh, you already have it.”

He struck hard on the left side of her throat.

Continue reading Kissed by a Dark Prince if you like: 

• Fated Mates
• Forbidden Love
• Over Protective Heroes
• Royal Fae Heroes
• Strong Heroines
• The Most Powerful Guy Wants You!
• Touch Her and Die