Book one of the Savage King Series

Zoe Creed is the best private investigator around. She’s so good even shifters hire her. But when Roman King walks into her office with a strange case, her instincts scream that she should turn down the job. Not because she can’t do it. Because the man in question is irresistible. Roman is trouble, and she’s fresh – and forever – off the market.

Lion shifter and professional philanthropist Roman King cares only cares about his family and making the world a better place. The last thing he needs is to find his mate. But when his beloved little sister is embroiled in a blackmail scheme, he ends up in Zoe Creed’s office. Zoe is not only his mate, she’s also bent on resisting him.

Now, Zoe is on Roman’s shortlist of things that matter. His sister’s case isn’t the only mission he’s on. He will win his fated mate’s heart along the way. Convincing her might be harder than tracking down the blackmailers.

Chapter 1

Roman

The King house was more like a castle than an actual house. Even after all these years, Roman still got a kick whenever he saw the massive structure rising out from the lush forest surrounding the family land. A thick, black-iron fence surrounded the grounds and opened dramatically to a long drive that curved around an enormous fountain in front of his family home. 

As he drove up the lane, he was greeted by marble statues of lions every few feet in various poses. It was ostentatious and more than a little bit over the top, but he remembered loving the statues as a kid. Even as a teen, he was amazed by the artistry of the statues. The sculptor obviously had intimate knowledge of lions. Though carved out of stone, the manes always seemed to be blowing in an invisible wind. 

Roman could clearly remember how he felt when he was a child looking at this palace. There was always a sense of awe and wonder, like he was some creature that landed in a place that wasn’t entirely his.

Of course, that was only his child’s brain misunderstanding the concept of adoption.

One of his brothers, Weston, who was a few years older than him, liked to think he was the only one who remembered life before the Kings took them in. Carter, their middle brother, didn’t talk about all of that much. He preferred to pretend Anita and Liam were their birth parents. Roman often thought the same, though he did waver between wanting to know where they really came from and doing like Carter and pretending their adoptive parents were the ones to bring them into this world.

Three brothers and three very different ways of looking at their family history. 

It made for some tense moments between the siblings. They didn’t fight, exactly. But there was an unspoken agreement between them never to bring it up unless it was absolutely necessary.

Today, as he drove down the long lane, Roman didn’t know what he really believed. All he knew was that coming here always felt like coming home. His best memories of childhood were in that mansion, from running around with his brothers on the impressive lawn to his first shift in the woods.

Looking at the opulent life his adoptive parents gave him, Roman felt guilty for the longing to know where his birth parents were. He could never truly disentangle himself from that guilt. He loved his parents, but there was still a desire to know.

Roman pushed those nasty thoughts out of his head as he parked his car by the garage. The standalone structure was just as grandiose as the house. Actually, it was probably bigger than most people’s homes. But for the Kings, it wasn’t even large enough to keep all of their cars. They had too many. His grandfather had collected all kinds of automobiles. It was in this very garage that all the King boys learned the mechanics of cars. He learned to drive on this laneway. He smiled at the memory.

No sooner was he out of his car than the house's front door opened. Mom rushed out, her heels clicking against the interlock as she hastened toward him. Mom was young to have three grown sons and a teenage daughter. Her brown hair barely had any hint of silver, and there were only a few wrinkles on her pretty and kind face. As always, she was immaculately dressed.

“You’re the first one to arrive,” she said, explaining her excitement. She kissed both his cheeks before ruffling his hair. “If you insist on wearing your hair in a pompadour, you could at least make sure to drive with the windows up. You look like a ruffian. All disheveled like a rebel.”

Roman grinned. “At least I’m your favorite ruffian.”

Mom rolled her eyes, ever the doting mother. She hooked her arm around his and smiled at him. “Let’s get inside. We can have a peaceful drink before your brothers arrive.”

“Where’s Dad?”

She waved him off. “He’s in the garden, of course. He thinks he can revive that rosebush of his, but I’ve told him it's a lost cause. The man is stubborn.”

“He just wants a green thumb.”

Mom tilted her head back. “Imagine that. An alpha. The leader of a pride! He would rather be talking to his flowers all day instead of spending time with his mate and running his business and pride.”

He chuckled. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you posted all about your apple trees, Mom. Your social media reads like a gardener’s happy place. You’re just as bad.”

Mom giggled. “Well, you’re right. I guess we’ve officially turned into that old couple who spends all of their time talking about flowers and gardens. We’re boring.”

“You could never be boring,” he assured her as they made their way into the sitting room.

It was enormous, with white marble floors covered with thick, richly colored rugs. The walls were dark oak paneling, but there were paintings and statues to decorate the room. It might look austere to most people who visited the Kings, but for Roman, this room had a special place in his heart.

He spent hours listening to his parents talk about the family’s multiple charities over the years in this room. In this very sitting room, Roman decided that his future wouldn’t be adding to the King portfolio like his brothers.

Nope.

He was going to find creative ways to spend their money. He would endeavor to be as charitable as possible to benefit as many people as he could. Roman knew he and his brothers were a unique brand of lucky.

Not every other orphan out there was adopted by a wealthy family.

In fact, most siblings would have been adopted into separate families. Of course, at the time, it didn’t help that he was a toddler, Carter was five, and Weston was six. That was a lot of little boys. A lot of shifter little boys.

Especially given that Weston had a bit of an attitude. Even back then, the eldest was a pain in the ass with a temper that could peel paint off the walls.

Carter always said that Weston was born a surly, old man. It was by far the best — and most polite — way to describe Weston. Of course, Mom saw her eldest son through her mother’s eyes and with a mother’s heart. She never did admit that he was one moody bastard.

She didn’t have, too, though. The entire pride knew Weston King – the heir apparent – was always in a bad mood. Nothing made that man smile.

“How are things, my darling boy?” Mom asked, passing him a glass of iced tea. She would only give her boys alcohol if they expressly asked for it. If they didn’t, they got iced tea because they would always be children in her eyes. Roman didn’t mind at all. It was really sweet.

“Thanks, Mom.” He sipped his drink. “Things are good. I’m just about to start planning the benefit for Reading Joy. I still have to find the right sponsors, but I think it’ll go well. I have a few other ideas I want to explore, but there are only so many hours in a day.”

Mom smiled at him. “I’m so proud of you, Roman. You’ve turned into such a wonderful young man. It brings tears to my eyes that you want to do such good in the world.”

He shrugged. “It feels right.” He could’ve said more to explain why he felt the way he did about helping people, but if he did, Mom would weep. Sure, they would be happy tears, but it didn’t make it any easier for him.

No one wanted to see their mother cry. Ever. That shit was horrible. Especially his mother. She was always smiling, and she always smelled like vanilla and sunshine. Roman would never do anything to hurt her purposefully. Not the woman who had done so much for him and his brothers and sister.

She was the one who had instilled his love of charity. She was always doing something to help those around her. Anita King was selfless and kind, not at all what you would expect from a socialite.

Mom cupped his cheek in her hand. “I will never regret my path in life. It led me to you boys and Elisa. Lord knows I’ve never been happier than when I was raising you all.”

“Even when we drove you insane?” Carter asked, sauntering into the room, very much like a king.

He was the only of the three King brothers to have blue eyes. Often, Roman wondered if they had the same father. Carter’s eyes were so blue, it hurt to look at them sometimes. But, genetically, what were the chances Carter had blue eyes if Roman and Weston had brown eyes?

Roman had always been too scared to look into the science of it. He was scared of what he would find, and the last thing his brothers needed was to know that not only were they abandoned by their birth parents, but they might not actually be full biological siblings.

Carter kissed Mom’s cheeks and took the offered iced tea. He slurped it loudly. “Geez, Mom. You put way too much booze in this.” He winked at her while chuckling at his own joke.

“How are things with you, Carter?” Mom spoke in her lioness tone. She knew something, and Carter completely averted his eyes when she asked, “Anything you’d like to share?”

Carter focused on the ice bobbing in his drink. “I don’t know what you mean, Mother, darling.”

Mom pursed her lips, not fooled by his sweet tone. “Of course, you know what I mean. You took Susanna Nelson on a date last weekend. Her mother called and told me all about it. When do you see Susanna again? Is she your mate? Susanna has been tight-lipped about the whole thing, and Sandra can’t get anything out of her daughter.”

“Roman, my man. Didn’t see you there.” Carter gave him a pleading look, but Roman shook his head.

You are on your own, brother.

“Oh, you’re a stubborn boy,” Mom scolded. “If you’re going to spread your wild oats wherever you please, the least you could do is to keep away from my friends’ daughters. And pride members.”

“Where’s Dad?” Carter asked. “Shouldn’t he be here for this interrogation? I almost miss him reminding me that I have to uphold the good King name.”

Mom waved him off. “He is busy with his roses. Don’t think I will drop this, Carter Elliot King. You’re all in your thirties ..."

“Hey!” Roman interjected. He was not thirty yet, and he had no desire at being aged for the sake of a conversation about his brother’s marital status and sleeping around.

“Well, you know what I mean. Close enough.” Mom shrugged. “It’s strange none of you have found your mates. I’m starting to lose hope that I’ll have grandbabies anytime soon. Or I’ll have them in a quite unexpected way.” She arched her brow toward Carter, but he didn’t look the least embarrassed that he was dipping his stick in a pride member.

That just wasn’t done. Not unless the woman in question was your mate. But Carter always played fast and loose with the rules. Sooner or later, that would get him into trouble. Not that Roman wanted his brother to be in trouble, but it would happen. Eventually. Carter needed to be very careful how he handled the Susanna situation. As a shifter, she would know they weren’t mates, but that didn’t stop hearts from wanting what they couldn’t have.

Carter had bad luck like that in the past.

“You’re way too young and hip to be worried about grandchildren,” Carter cooed. “You’re so young.”

She was, that was true. She was only twenty-three when she adopted them, so she was quite young to have a brood of lions to raise.

“Hello, all,” Weston announced as he made his way into the sitting room without looking up from his phone. If Carter walked in like a king, Weston walked in like an overly busy and perpetually dismissive emperor.

“Weston,” Mom exclaimed. She went to give him a kiss and a hug, but he barely looked up as she did.

“Anita.” 

Roman winced. He always cringed when Weston called Mom by her first name. His oldest brother had actually never called Anita Mom or Mommy or any such name that represented the level of care and commitment she had shown them.

Roman was insulted for Mom, but she always said she was fine with it. Maybe that was because he and his brothers had come to blows over it before, especially as hormone-fueled teenagers.

“You can’t force him to feel that way, Roman,” Mom would say every time he brought it up to her. “He was six when he came to me. He still remembers your mother, and that’s okay. I don’t resent either of them. I can’t replace who she was. All I can do is love him.”

Mom was a fucking saint to deal with all that with a smile on her face and love in her heart.

Weston made his way to the bar and poured himself some scotch. The tumbler was over full, and he quickly downed half of it. Roman wanted to make a comment, but he chose to refrain. It would only start an argument, and he didn’t want to upset Mom. These family dinners meant too much to her. He’d give his brother shit later when they were alone.

“Is everyone here?” Dad announced, coming into the sitting room in a pair of dirt-covered overalls. He wiped his hands on a rag he then stuffed into his pocket. He handed a single rose to Mom with a grin. “For you, my love.” They shared a sweet kiss.

His parents were like that. Still completely in love after all of these years together. It was sweet and wonderful to see. In his weaker moments, Roman made a very silent wish that he would have a woman to love so tenderly one day. But she would have to face the fact: his charity work would always come ahead of everything else. He had a debt to pay back to the world, and he wouldn’t feel settled until he repaid it all. It would take decades if he were ever even able to do it. Guilt was a heavy emotion with a high cost.

“No, we’re still missing Elisa,” Mom answered Dad, scrubbing at a dirt smudge on his cheek with love in her eyes.

“Well, where is she?” Dad looked at the clock on the wall with a frown. Elisa was often late, as teenagers were.

Mom smirked. “She had homework to do, apparently.”

“More like Facegraming or Instabooking on social media.”

Roman tried to suppress his snort. Dad was a brilliant man, but he did not like social media. “I can go get her,” Roman announced.

He left the sitting room and jogged up the curving staircase. All the way up the hall, he could hear music strumming from his little sister’s bedroom. He knocked on the door with enough strength to be heard.

“Yeah?” Elisa called out, turning down the music that was more like an electronic nightmare.

“It’s your favorite brother,” he responded with another knock.

The music stopped completely, and the door swung open. Seventeen-year-old Elisa Ruby King stood there, her bright red hair curling around her face. She pushed her glasses up her nose, grinning at him.

“You’re here.” She hugged him. “I’m so happy you came!”

“Where else would I be? It’s family dinner night. I don’t want to miss one. Not after last time.”

You didn’t miss a family dinner, or you suffered a search party and a visit from Mom. 

Elisa giggled. “Well, you’re the smartest of the brothers. Weston called to say he wasn’t coming, but Mom gave him The Speech.”

Roman winced in sympathy. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of Mom’s speech. She wielded her words better than she did her claws. “Weston just arrived. He’s already had half of a bottle of scotch.”

Elisa rolled her eyes. “Of course. Anything to be the rebel. At least he came. Now I won’t have to kick his ass for making Mom sad.”

“How’s the homework?” He nudged his chin toward the laptop screen.

“Huh?” She blushed as she ran off to close its top with a snap. “Oh. Fine.”

“You weren’t doing homework, were you?”

She shook her head. “I was talking to someone.”

“A special someone?” He frowned, making it clear he didn’t like his little sister mixing with the opposite sex. He wasn’t overly protective, exactly. But he still saw Elisa as a tiny little thing, hardly the young woman she was becoming with way too much speed.

Dad blamed social media. Roman knew it was just the natural way of things. That didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Stop. We are not talking about this,” Elisa groaned. She avoided his eyes completely, and something pinged in his mind.

“Hey, Elisa, if there’s anything wrong, you know you can always come to me, right? I will always be there for you. No matter what. That’s what big brothers are for.”

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and her lips parted. Roman watched his little sister, frowning at her. There was something.

“Did someone hurt you?” he pressed.

She drew her eyes opened and plastered on a very fake smile. “What? No, no. Of course not.”

It was a lie. He squeezed her shoulder. “When you’re ready to talk to me, you’ll let me know, right?”

“Sure, yeah.”

That time, Roman couldn’t quite tell if it was a lie.

She pulled him toward the door and blabbered on about something from school, but her joy seemed forced. He wanted to ask her more, but not in front of the others. That wouldn’t help anything. 

They walked into the sitting room, and Mom sighed happily. “All my kids are here gathered together. This makes me so happy.”

Dad wrapped his arm around Mom’s waist and kissed her cheek. It was tragic, really, that she hadn’t been able to have kids of her own. She was a mother, through and through. At least, she had been able to adopt him and his brothers, and a little while later, Elisa had come into their lives. 

She, too, was a little lioness, and just like him and his brothers, Elisa’s parents hadn’t died. They put her up for adoption. After being parents for a few years, they chose to give her away.

Mom took her in. In a weird way, Elisa rounded out their strange little family perfectly like she had always belonged with them. It was a bit odd having a little sister eleven years younger than him, but he was no less protective of her. Actually, it probably made him more protective.

Roman looked around the room, and he felt content. He understood why his mother insisted on these family nights. It was so grounding. So crucial to remember what was important in life.

He knew just how lucky the Kings were. They had it all: love, security, power, and each other. Nothing could threaten them in their mansion.