Garrett's Destiny: an Action Packed Alpha Vampire Paranormal Romance Read online

  He groaned against her mouth, and triumph roared through her. Then he took over the kiss, forcing her head back, overwhelming her as he poured heat into her that filled her entire body, head to toe.

  He removed his hand, and she whimpered. Embarrassment flowed through her, and she straightened, still feeling intoxicated. As if she’d sipped too much of the aged wine she wasn’t supposed to have unless it was during her study of society dinners.

  “Are you okay?” He released her hair, once again looking too big and too dangerous.

  “I think so.” It took her a second to realize that tears filled her eyes. One spilled over to slide down her cheek.

  He caught it and rubbed the droplet between his thumb and forefinger, looking thoughtful. “Who are you, Dessie?”

  “Nobody that matters,” she told him, giving him honesty again. The wind tossed fallen leaves across the stone wall, and cheerful daisies waved. It was late for them to be blooming. “Um, Garrett? I feel messy.”

  He lifted her off the wall, yanked her bag over his shoulder, took her hand, and towed her back around the building. “Go inside and clean yourself up, and then get your ass back out here. We’re not done.” His face was set in a hard mask, and his tone was unrelenting. “By the time you return, be prepared to give me the full truth.”

  Also by Rebecca Zanetti

  The Dark Protector series

  Fated

  Claimed

  Tempted

  Hunted

  Consumed

  Provoked

  Twisted

  Shadowed

  Tamed

  Marked

  Talen

  Vampire’s Faith

  Demon’s Mercy

  Alpha’s Promise

  Hero’s Haven

  Guardian’s Grace

  Rebel’s Karma

  Immortal’s Honor

  The Realm Enforcers series

  Wicked Ride

  Wicked Edge

  Wicked Burn

  Wicked Kiss

  Wicked Bite

  The Scorpius Syndrome series

  Scorpius Rising

  Mercury Striking

  Shadow Falling

  Justice Ascending

  The Deep Ops series

  Hidden

  Taken (e-novella)

  Fallen

  Shaken (e-novella)

  Broken

  Driven

  Unforgiven

  GARRETT’S DESTINY

  By Rebecca Zanetti

  LYRICAL PRESS

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  LYRICAL PRESS BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2022 by Rebecca Zanetti

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  All Kensington titles, imprints, and distributed lines are available at special quantity discounts for bulk purchases for sales promotion, premiums, fund-raising, educational, or institutional use.

  Special book excerpts or customized printings can also be created to fit specific needs. For details, write or phone the office of the Kensington Sales Manager: Kensington Publishing Corp., 119 West 40th Street, New York, NY 10018. Attn. Sales Department. Phone: 1-800-221-2647.

  Lyrical Press and Lyrical Press logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  First Electronic Edition: October 2022

  ISBN-13: 978-1-5161-1078-0 (ebook)

  First Print Edition: October 2022

  ISBN-13: 978-1-5161-1083-4

  Printed in the United States of America

  Dedication

  This one is for all the readers who have been with the Realm since the beginning and saw Garrett come into the world. I hope you love his story.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to the readers who’ve been with the Realm since the beginning, and those who have jumped in with this new era, starting with Vampire’s Faith. I have many wonderful people to thank for getting this book to readers, and I sincerely apologize to anyone I’ve forgotten.

  Thank you to my supportive family, Big Tone, Gabe, and Karlina; as always, I love you and appreciate you so much.

  Thank you to my hardworking editor, Alicia Condon, as well as everyone at Kensington Publishing: Alexandra Nicolajsen, Steven Zacharius, Adam Zacharius, Vida Engstrand, Jane Nutter, Lauren Jernigan, Elizabeth Trout, Samantha McVeigh, Lynn Cully, Arthur Maisel, Renee Rocco, Rebecca Cremonese.

  Thank you to my wonderful agent, Caitlin Blasdell, and to Liza Dawson and the entire Liza Dawson Agency.

  Thank you to my awesome assistant, Anissa Beatty, for her excellent social media work as well as the fun with the Rebels, and thanks to Rebels Jessica Mobbs, Heather Frost, Kimberly Frost, Madison Fairbanks, Suzi Zuber, Asmaa Nada Qayyum, Amanda Larsen, Karen Clementi, and Karen Fisher for their assistance.

  Thank you to Writer Space and Fresh Fiction PR for all the hard work.

  Thanks also to my constant support system: Gail and Jim English, Kathy and Herb Zanetti, Debbie and Travis Smith, Stephanie and Don West, Jessica and Jonah Namson, Chelli and Jason Younker, Liz and Steve Berry, and Jillian and Benji Stein.

  Chapter One

  Garrett Kayrs settled his bulk in the booth, reaching for a glass of beer from the iced pitcher on the table. Raucous laughter poured throughout the diner as motorcycle clubs converged on the way to a festival. Not one he and his brothers were attending, but they were along for the first part of the ride to camp for a weekend.

  “Would you stop frowning?” Sam Kyllwood snapped from across the booth, his green eyes showing irritation.

  “I’m not,” Garrett growled, frowning at his friend.

  Honor Kyllwood, Sam’s mate, slapped him on the arm. They’d been mated for over three years, and she was definitely one of the best-natured people Garrett had ever met. “You two behave. Garrett, I’m sure you’ll find somebody to play with when we get to the campground and, Sam, give him a break. It’s the first time we’ve gone on a ride in years that he hasn’t had a female on the back of his bike. He’s lonely.”

  Sam cut the pretty woman a look, his powerful body protecting her since he’d positioned her next to the window. “The last woman he dated tried to rob you—at knifepoint.”

  Honor chortled. “Yeah, but I kicked her ass. Those training sessions have gone well.”

  Garrett hid his grin. She was correct. He’d been searching for the right female to ride behind him for years, consumed by the quest, and he hadn’t found her. Prophecy claimed she’d be dangerous, even deadly, and would probably try to kill him. It was time to get on with it.

  The beast inside him, one that had slumbered beneath the surface for so long, was now stretching awake. Pissed off and ready to kill. At least now he had a job to do when they arrived at the campground.

  The outside door opened, and a vision walked in. Well, more like the girl next door. She wore a frilly green blouse, white capri jeans, and sexy tan wedges that showed off her dainty pink toenails. It was autumn, and she should have been wearing a jacket. A slouchy bag looked heavy over her fragile shoulder. Her auburn hair curled down her back, and an air of pure irritation emanated from her.

  Looking like an indignant kitten, she stomped right into the middle of the diner, next to Garrett’s table, not seeming to realize she’d walked into a den of wolves.

  The man behind her definitely noticed. Young, slick brown hair, pressed beige pants, and thousand-dollar loafers on his feet. He looked around at the various motorcycle club members sitting in different areas of the diner, all hungry, all possibly dangerous. “Let’s get out of here,” he muttered.

  The kitten turned, her hands going to her waist. The scent of something fresh and sweet wafted from her. What was that? “You just don’t get it.” She leaned toward the man, anger turning her peaches-and-cream complexion into cherry-blossom pink. “The answer was no.” She swept out her arms. “The answer is no.” She clapped her hands. “The answer will always and forever, until the time of the rapture, be no.” She threw her arms up. Then she shook her head. “I quit.”

  The man reared back. “You can’t quit.”

  “I just did,” she sighed. “I’m out. I’m not finding what I need in this job anyway.” She nodded, her shoulders stiff in the flimsy blouse. “I’ll send your father a nice email later today tendering my resignation. Please extend my gratitude to him for the employment opportunity.” She turned away from him.

  The
man made the mistake of grabbing her arm.

  Garrett was up in a second, towering over them both. “Let. Go.”

  The man jerked back as if he’d been punched in the gut.

  A slight gasp came from the kitten.

  Probably one of pure terror. Oh, Garrett knew what she saw. He was six and a half feet of raw muscle in a torn and dirty black motorcycle club jacket, with shaggy hair to his shoulders, a couple of bruises across his jaw, and cracked knuckles he hadn’t bothered to heal after a fight the night before.

  He cut her a look and then rocked back on his heels.

  Her crystal-clear blue eyes were full of delight…and wonder. “You,” she whispered, reaching out to touch his whiskered jaw. Her tongue darted out to lick her luscious bottom lip. “It’s you.” She tilted her head, adoration in her liquid gaze.

  The touch shot straight to his balls, making him throb in a way he hadn’t in years. He growled low.

  Then she withdrew.

  “No.” He didn’t know what he was denying, but he didn’t want her to stop looking at him like that. Nobody in his entire life had looked at him like that. With adoration, need, and…hope? More than anything, he wanted that touch again.

  The blush blossomed into full-on rose, and she clapped her hand against her bag. “I, ah, um, I’m sorry.” She frowned. “That was, well, that was…” She looked around, no doubt noticing that every gaze was focused on her. She shrugged delicate shoulders and looked up at him as if forcing herself to meet his gaze. Black lashes, natural and thick, enhanced those incredible eyes. “I apologize.”

  “Let’s go,” the man said, backpedaling toward the door.

  She frowned at him. “No. Go away, Aster. I’ll find my own way home.”

  Aster looked around, paling. Then the asshole left the kitten in the den of wolves.

  Her hands fluttered together. “Oh. Well.” She caught sight of the empty row of barstools at the counter and started to move that way.

  “No.” Garrett angled his body just enough to stop her. He was at least a foot taller and a hundred or two pounds heavier than she was, basically making him a solid wall. “How do you know me?” There were many bounties on his head, but there was no way the kitten was a bounty hunter. He could read people well enough to know that.

  She glanced down at his monstrous boots and took a deep breath before looking up and meeting his gaze. “I don’t know you.” Then she smiled, and sure as shit, it was like the sun had appeared over the mountains after the rainy season. “That was weird, and I apologize. There’s no way I could know you, correct?”

  “Right.” He grasped her arm, careful not to bruise her. “You’re sitting with us.”

  “No, I—”

  He nudged her into the booth, putting his body between her and the rest of the bikers in the place.

  It was time for some answers.

  * * * *

  Well, she’d just gone and done it now, hadn’t she? Dessie settled into the booth, her entire right side warmed by the man sitting next to her. Make that the formidable block of muscle sitting next to her. Would it be weird if she asked him to remove the tinted glasses covering his eyes? “You’re the highwayman a’comin,” she whispered.

  “I like poetry as well.” Why did that sound like a threat from him? How could he be real? He couldn’t be. It wasn’t really him.

  When he lifted one finger, a waitress came out of nowhere so fast her thighs hit the table. “Yes?” she asked breathlessly, her ample breasts straining against her black tank top.

  He didn’t seem to notice but instead turned his head slightly to Dessie. “Order.”

  She gulped. Order? She didn’t have enough money for lunch as well as a ride home. “I’m, um, I’m not hungry.” Her stomach rumbled, but quietly enough she was sure nobody heard it.

  Now he turned his head all the way toward her, and even through those glasses, she could feel his intent. His hair was dark, with some natural highlights that showed he spent time in the sun, and his facial features were rock-solid angles that tempted a girl to run her fingers across the masculine bone structure. “Don’t lie to me again.” Her body wanted to back away from him, but she was already pressed against the windowsill and wall. “Order, or I’ll do it for you.”

  Maybe she could hitchhike back to the motel or just leave her meager possessions there. She had everything she needed in her overlarge bag. “I’ll have a cheeseburger, no onions or pickles. Thank you.” It was a diner, and she’d learned that they usually had burgers, so it was a safe bet. Besides, she loved cheeseburgers. They were a warm new comfort that probably would go straight to her thighs, but who cared?

  “Drink?” His words were clipped. Her unfortunate choice of words earlier had apparently angered him. Or, at the very least, irritated him. She had a feeling that he was only allowing her to see his emotions because he didn’t care if she knew he was not happy.

  “What’s your name?” The question popped out of her before she could stop it.

  He didn’t so much as twitch, instead keeping her captive with his gaze. If anything, more tension rolled off him. “Order. A. Drink.”

  Her knees trembled, and her breath quickened. Once again her body reacted without conscious thought. These feelings were new and all for him. She didn’t appreciate the sensations at the moment. She shifted her weight, trying to find a comfortable position. “You’re very bossy.” While she’d tried soda and didn’t much like it, water wasn’t appealing to her in this moment.

  Apparently, his patience had ended. “Bring another mug. She’ll have beer.”

  The waitress sprinted away. Probably so she could return quickly.

  At least if they poured from their pitcher, she wouldn’t be charged for the drink. “That would be lovely,” Dessie said primly to nobody in particular.

  His grin was slow and more devastating than a train crash.

  The smile warmed her more, and she was grateful he didn’t look so scary any longer. If being polite charmed him, she’d draw on every etiquette lesson she’d ever learned.

  She finally broke eye contact and looked across the booth. Another overlarge man sat across the worn wooden table, and he also wore a leather jacket. His hair was black, his eyes green, and his expression tense. Next to him sat a truly beautiful woman with tawny skin, rope-twisted black hair, and sparkling dark eyes. She had curves Dessie would love to possess. “Hi,” Dessie said, focusing on the woman, sensing she was the safest person in the booth, if not the entire diner.

  “Hi.” The woman tilted her head, curiosity in her gaze. “What’s your name?”

  “Dessie. Yours?”

  The woman glanced at the man next to her, and he barely nodded. “I’m Honor, and this is Sam.” Had she just asked permission to give their names?

  Dessie frowned. These people were obviously on guard, and her touching the guy next to her as if they were old friends was a mystery they apparently didn’t like. Why would they?

  A shuffling sound alerted her, and she looked around to see several of the patrons rearranging themselves in this half of the diner. She liked patterns, and she quickly discerned this one. The biggest and meanest-looking of the leather-clad men were now all seated closer to them. Surrounding them in booths and the closest tables—forming a wall of protection around them. How intriguing.

  She noted on the back of their jackets the outline of a large grizzly bear, sharp teeth flashing beneath the word grizzlies. “Why do you all have matching jackets?”

  Even Honor wore a black leather jacket. She played with a stunning diamond engagement ring on her finger. “We belong to the Grizzlies, which is a motorcycle club.” Then her gaze narrowed. “You’ve never heard of a motorcycle club?”

  “No.” Dessie shrugged. “I haven’t been in California very long.”

  The woman’s gaze cleared, and she barely nodded.

  What was going on with the almost nods? Perhaps that was just how Honor and Sam communicated. Or maybe Sam couldn’t speak. Dessie looked directly at him, wanting to shrink beneath his sharp gaze. “Are you mute?” Somebody coughed in the booth behind her, but she didn’t turn. Her eyes widened. “Oh my. Is that a rude question? If so, I do apologize. I didn’t mean anything hurtful.”