Prince of Darkness – Dark Protectors Read Online Rebecca Zanetti

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Insta-Love, Paranormal, Vampires Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
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Dark Protectors, Book #17

Unknown to humans, beyond daylight lies a world of intoxicating darkness where deadly creatures prowl with insatiable desires and unbelievable power: vampires, demons, witches, shifters. When vulnerable humans find themselves thrust into that realm, they’ll never be the same. . .

In the aftermath of war, a fragile peace hovers between the Kurjan nation and the Dark Protector coalition. Yet amid labyrinthine politics and intrigue, Vero Phoenix, a Kurjan, stands apart. He has lived devoid of legacy or lineage—until the day he backed his newly found brother as king, putting himself into the treacherous position of enforcer and shield. Yet there is another thorn in his side, no less vexing, undeniably captivating—and all-too-human . . .

Lyrica Graves was once ensnared by Kurjan captors and now embodies defiance and freedom as she guides other women to independence and modernity. She is particularly amused—and breathtakingly fearful—by her tangles with Vero. But their clashing also belies a sizzling connection, a dark attraction between supernatural and fully human that threatens their chosen destinies and makes them a target for far too many enemies

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One

In modern vernacular, or rather, the human vernacular, today fucking sucked.

Vero Phoenix sat behind an ancient iron-and-oak desk, his body screaming for action. For anything. He’d even climb an ice-covered tree if that meant moving his legs.

“Mr., ah, Phoenix?” A petite, dark-haired female, who looked around twenty but was actually only seventeen years old, hovered hesitantly in the doorway of his office.

He had a damn office—as well as a surname. He somewhat understood the reasoning of creating family units by employing surnames, but adjusting took time. Just a month before, he’d discovered he had a brother named Paxton Phoenix, so when Pax became their king, Vero figured he should adopt the surname. If nothing else, it showed their enemies where his allegiance lay. “Yes?”

The female paled. “Sir, I mean, um, Mr. Phoenix?”

He bit back a snarl. Smiling was too much for him right now, so he tried to keep his brows from slashing down. Apparently that looked frightening—for some unfathomable reason. “Genevieve, you can call me Vero. Remember?” He couldn’t do anything about the hoarseness of his low voice, so he didn’t try.

She flushed from her chest to her hairline, her bluish-green gaze darting away. “Yes, sir. I mean, I’m sorry, sir.”

Jesus. “It’s okay.” He had to find somebody else to work as his secretary. Or administrative assistant. How in the hell did he have an administrative assistant? “What?” His voice sounded rusty because he rarely spoke.

She hovered, her shoulders down. “Um, Miss, I mean Ms., ah, Lyrica is here to see you.”

Well, double fuck. “Fine. Please send her in.” Now he sounded like some human stockbroker. Or worse, an attorney. If he had half a brain, he’d take off for the Himalayas and live by himself in a cabin blanketed with snow. Maybe he could make friends with a bear.

Screw that. He’d never had a real friend. Sure, he’d thought he had, but Hunter had ended up being a two-faced, lying, spying asshole. If Vero made friends with a bear, it would eat him.

That would be preferable to his current situation.

Lyrica Graves swept inside, somehow looking both regal and indignant while wearing jeans and a scarlet sweater that fit her curvy body perfectly, her cheeks red from the cold. She’d apparently ditched her coat in the outer office but still wore thick blue snow boots.

If he asked her to just shoot him, would she?

Her pretty brown eyes sparked. “You are totally screwing all this up.”

Yep. She’d definitely shoot him. He considered making the request for all of five seconds, then decided he didn’t want to give her that much satisfaction. In the saddle of life, she was a burr biting his skin, and she had been for the past weeks as they’d tried to bring the Kurjan nation, his nation, into modern times. “What do you want now?”

She drew to her full and unimpressive height of about five foot six inches and tossed her head in a way only angry females could achieve.

His body reacted instantly, going hard as a rock, head to toe—and worse yet, everywhere in between.

An unholy, feminine, and unreal peach bloomed beneath her smooth skin. “I heard you told Eudokia Guavras she could stay with her mate.”

If he had an emotion, he’d blink. Instead, he kept his voice level and forced himself to talk. “I spoke with her—alone—for more than an hour. She wants to remain with her mate. I thought that allowing females to do as they wish was your goal?”

She put both hands on her voluptuous hips, her eyes glittering like a dark disco ball. “Allow? Did you say allow?”

Damn it. That was one of the expressions he was supposed to banish. But the word fit the situation. He had allowed the female to stay with her mate of more than five hundred years. She’d begged and pleaded to do so. He shoved down irritation. “Yes. She loves her mate. They’ve been together since the Byzantine Empire, and she has borne him three sons. Good ones.” All three were, in fact, excellent soldiers.

Lyrica lifted her face to the ceiling as if he was just too stupid to deal with at the moment. “Eudokia doesn’t know what she wants. She has been a Kurjan mate for centuries, man. She has no clue about the life that could be hers out in the world.”

Yet her mate and her sons would remain with the Kurjan nation. A headache loomed at the base of Vero’s skull, and he allowed his jaw to firm. Now wasn’t the time to once again correct her that he wasn’t a man. Not human. Not even close. “Perhaps Eudokia doesn’t care about the outside world.”

Lyrica’s chin lowered. With her dark hair curling over her shoulders and her smooth skin begging for a kiss, she looked far more appealing than dangerous. Like a kitten hissing at a cobra, clueless to the dangerous bite about to strike her. “That’s because she’s had no exposure to freedom.”


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