Rogue Mates (Lunar Carnevale Book 1) Read online

  Rogue Mates

  (Lunar Carnevale, #1)

  by Iris Sword

  OTHER BOOKS BY IRIS SWORD

  Standalones

  Imprisoned by the Wizard

  The Delta Rangers Series

  Delta Moon (Delta Rangers, #1) + Audiobook

  Delta Star (Delta Rangers, #2)

  Delta Rangers (Delta Rangers, #3)

  Delta Sun: Short Stories (Delta Rangers, #3.5)

  Delta Rangers: The Complete Series

  Omegas of Alaska Duet

  Omega’s Sanctuary (Omegas of Alaska, #1)

  Omega’s Paradise (Omegas of Alaska, #2)

  Omegas of Alaska: The Complete Series

  Lunar Carnevale Trilogy

  Rogue Mates (Lunar Carnevale, #1)

  Cursed Mates (Lunar Carnevale, #2)

  Fated Mates (Lunar Carnevale, #3)

  Forevermore: Short Stories (Lunar Carnevale, #3.5)

  Lunar Carnevale: The Complete Series

  Knights of Ouroboros Series

  Claws of Frost (Knights of Ouroboros, #1)

  Wings of Thunder (Knights of Ouroboros, #2)

  Scales of Lightning (Knights of Ouroboros, #3)

  Pyre of Destiny: Short Stories (Knights of Ouroboros, #3.5)

  WARNING

  Rogue Mates is an erotic gay mpreg omegaverse shifter dark romance novella (16,000 words total). It features two male werewolf shifters with graphic sex, descriptions of sexual assault, and violence. This ebook is for mature audiences only.

  #Paranormal Romance #Shifter Romance #Erotic Romance #mpreg #MM #Gay Romance #Omegaverse

  SYNOPSIS

  Ill-fated Mates

  Rodolfo lives his life by a single creed—survival by any means necessary. Big, hairy, and aggressive, he’s been blessed to have all the characteristics of an alpha even though he was born a lowly omega. On Elv, Rodolfo’s mind, body, and soul are predestined to servitude underneath a domineering alpha. However, he has bigger plans than being another shifter’s plaything, and during the upcoming Lunar Carnevale, he’ll buy his freedom and start a new life in a new caste. That’s until Rodolfo meets Fernando del Nox V, an alluring noble-born alpha, and an arrogant prick.

  Nox was raised on the battlefield as the firstborn alpha of his warring wolfpack. Having fulfilled his duty to the Otsanan Empire, Nox is summoned to Otsana the Majestic’s lavish Lunar Carnevale. There, he will be gifted land, riches, and a blushing bridegroom for his years of service to the Royal Crown. But, along the way, Nox encounters a better prize when he stumbles upon an unusual omega in heat. He wants to assert his birthright over him, bending Rodolfo to his superior will. But as time drags on, Nox finds himself succumbing to a tempting thought—is Rodolfo his fated mate? And, if so, can he balance the allure of destiny with the love he shares for another alpha, his second-in-command Luna?

  Rogue Mates (Lunar Carnevale, #1) is an erotic gay mpreg omegaverse shifter dark romance novella.

  Rogue Mates

  (Lunar Carnevale, #1)

  © 2020 Iris Sword

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America. No part of this book may be reproduced in any format whatsoever without written consent from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and events are the products of imagination. A resemblance to the aforementioned is purely coincidental. Any resemblance to the aforementioned is the result of moonsickness displayed by Iris Sword.

  www.aurelialeo.com

  First Edition: September 2020

  Cover design by Soxsational Cover Art

  For my Wayward Wolves

  NOX

  Battle of Wolveria

  One Month Before the Lunar Carnevale

  Disputed Territory of the Haem Countryside

  War is a means to an end, Fernando del Nox V thought, as the majesty of the bright blood red full moon shined down upon him and his pack. The eerie glow of the harvest moon endowed their inner wolves with strength, just as their human bodies gave out on them. They were forty strong, ten killed in the battle that pushed them to the brink of the cliff’s edge of Wolveria Falls. Nox glanced left, over his uninjured shoulder, gazing down at the dark rushing waters below. The black abyss at the bottom of the falls awaited any who dared to flee and jump. But, as Nox turned back around to gaze into the darkness in front of him, it could not be survived. They had to survive, stand their ground, and fight back. Retreat equaled a fate worse than death, their bodies crushed and battered as they plummeted off the cliff’s edge. The war-weary pack huddled closer together as tiny torchlights emerged from the evergreen forest.

  All around them, humans swarmed, armed to the teeth with weapons coated in magick-infused moon-metal. Silver, the stuff of any werewolves nightmares. At least, in the minds of the bloodthirsty humans hunting them down to bring their scalps back to their mortal master, King Cassian of the Human Realm. Fear should have been coursing through the noble-born shifter’s veins, but the only thing on Nox’s mind were the faces of the twins, Cinna and Cinder, his children by the dying oath of his fallen childhood friend. He had promised them he would be home in a lunar cycle in his last letter. Now that his final campaign was fought and won against the human horde, there was still time to make it home if he and his pack made it out of the ambush alive. They had too. There was no other choice. Yet the only option available to them made Nox furious. To think their enemies forced them to assume their feral states would have been nonsense mere hours ago. Now? He could feel his inner beast crawling underneath his skin, ready for a brawl.

  “ALPHA! ALPHA—Aaawoooooooooah!” The frantic sound of Erasma the Archer’s voice was replaced by an ear-shattering howl. Her dark brown skin contorted and shed, face elongating, claws extending, black coarse fur bursting forth from every pore on her body, until she resembled the half-human hairy beast of the humans’ cruel imaginations, conjured forth by their desecration of Mother Elv. Werewolf. Lycan. Beast Kin. Their terms for Nox’s kind were endless, and now, he thought ruefully, their hatred had forced them to embody humanity’s worst fears, the stuff of nightmares, a bloodborne fusion with that of the first inhabitants of their shared world.

  Damn them all! I hope what is coming to these bastards hurts! They will feel the pain they’ve inflicted on ten of us tenfold! Nox gritted out internally, flinging his crimson cape to the side to reveal his weapon of choice. Hooked to his black belt was a silver muzzle, and to it by twin golden chains, a pair of intricate over-sized black gloves with nails tipped in silver. It was the preferred combat gear of a noble-born like himself who rarely shifted into their true form, let alone during war when his more animalistic basic instincts could spell disaster in the heat of battle.

  “Assemble! Hold! Transform!” Each command was punctuated by a flood of movement as the survivors closed ranks around their alpha, hunched over on hands and knees, and all at once shed their human shells. Nox had a fleeting thought that replacing their clothing would prove difficult and expensive so far away from true civilization. But, like everything else threatening to cloud his mind’s eye, he pushed the frivolous thought away and focused. Nox pulled his jewel-encrusted muzzle around his face, already soaked in blood and sweat. He groaned as the familiar smell of burning flesh hit his nose as the muzzle bound him in his human skin. He closed his honey-brown eyes with an anguished groan, channeling his energy to his other senses. When Nox’s eyes reopened, they glowed the familiar golden-brown hue of his pack mates, denoting their shared ancestry. He unclasped his cape, and as it fell to the ground, stepped forward. Then, Nox clenched his fists and reached for his gloves, rechanneling his aura towards his hands. They morphed
, only slightly, into something in-between oversized human hands and wolven paws, skin so tight around his muscles and bone that it would rip apart if not for the gloves.

  “Attack! Kill them all! Devour!” He shouted in their native tongue, and his pack did just that, descending on the humans who could do little more than scream and run in absolute terror. Their sorcerer had misinformed them, just as their legends had for centuries, a tactic imposed by the Otsanan Empire generations before Nox’s birth. What their enemies thought they knew about his kind was what they allowed humans to know. As long as the Kinfolk were shrouded in myths and rumors, the humans would be little more than pesky nuisances grasping at straws, beating at their borders, but never able to overcome the superior species on Elv. They were dwarfs against giants without the favor of their gods, as his father once told Nox before he passed on to the Ancestral Realm.

  “Aaaah!” Nox swung left just in time to shatter the sword of a charging human soldier. His subordinate wasn’t so lucky, howling in agony as he was impaled on an accursed blade. Nox didn’t know how the pair got past his pack, and he didn’t care. Their foolhardy suicide mission ended in their deaths, ruby-red blood splashing against Nox’s metallic claws. He savored the thrill of the kill for a moment, and then it was gone in an instant, replaced by his hardening resolve. If not for these soldiers of fortune descending on his caravan in the dead of night, Nox would almost be home. If he missed the Lunar Carnevale, only the Grand Spirit of All knew if Queen Ostana would provide his reward. His future and that of the cubs hinged on an overwhelming victory, and that meant bringing the long-lost Haem Country back into the Otsanan Empire’s fold. These humans would not stop him from his ultimate goal.

  “LUNA! To your left!” Nox shouted, charging forward and sinking his claws into the guts of two soldiers, making quick work of their delicate bodies, sliced into pieces on the hard gray stone separating the cliff from the forest floor.

  His second-in-command dodged the arrow hurtling towards his head just barely, the arrow’s tip nicking his chin. Luna flipped backward and landed face down on his wolven paws. Unlike the rest of their company, Luna stood upright, a true werewolf of legend. He showed his gratitude towards his alpha with a mighty howl that rocked Elv and surely pierced the heavens with its force.

  Nox grinned, returning his howl as he stood on top of a pile of dead humans, raising his blood-stained claws to their moon, their god. For in that moment, they were gods to the cowering mortals that attempted to flee their slashing claws, gnawing teeth, and ravenous hunger. Their pitiful spells and accursed moon-metal could do little against them, the new apex predators, the rulers of a war-ravaged world displacing humans rulers, their realms on the verge of collapse. The new era their ancestors had fought and died and dreamed about for so long was upon them. Nox could taste victory, and he could smell their fear. He could smell something else too, mingle with the blood, sweat, and foul stench of piss and shit as the humans’ bowels let loose. He scented something sweet among the horrifying scents blasting his nose. Yes, co-mingled with the humans was a scent that nearly forced Nox’s inner wolf to the surface, despite the weight of the moon-metal infused muzzle repressing his baser instincts. His mind finally emptied itself of the war and his children, his duty to the Otsanan Empire and his hatred of humans, and everything but the scent prickling the back of his nose and lighting his flesh on fire.

  ...Omega.

  Where...?

  ...Mine!

  RUDY

  Borderlands

  Three Weeks Before the Lunar Carnevale

  Disputed Territory of the Haem Countryside

  Rudy awoke to the sound of chirping birds and the harsh glare of the withering sun piercing the thick branches and leaves shielding his naked body. Sleeping rough wasn’t so bad in Haem Country compared to the hard cobblestone streets of King Cassian’s dominion. He rolled onto his stomach, black beard coated in fresh morning dew, pushing himself onto his knees. He winced as the familiar ache in his ankle jolted him fully awake. Rudy cursed his bad luck. He had made the journey largely on foot, trading his skilled hands and strong body for coin and food as he went, taking on odd jobs along the way until he exhausted any opportunity in the small hamlets he passed through and moved on. He would reach Kurwen in a day, just in time to intercept a caravan making its way to the capital city. All he had to do was pay his fair share and he’d have the protection of warriors and numbers, no longer fending for himself alone.

  That was Rudy’s plan until he was knocked aside first by an oversized anima, a beast of burden unable or unwilling to transform into a human. He’d felt something slice him, as thin as a cobweb, but no blood spurted from his wound. Then, Rudy was nearly trampled by the soldiers that followed, confused how such a large company of fellow shifters went unnoticed to him, obviously not a part of the main caravan on its way to the festival. It wasn’t until he peeked through the towering grass covering the ditch he rolled into did he understand why. Suppressants. They all wore some sort of metal surely coated in silver forged in Otsanan kilns, making them nearly invisible to Kin like him. For days after the incident, Rudy found it hard to keep himself in the shape of a wolf, the pain from his injury, and the lingering smell of silver making his already unstable transitions all the more treacherous. With the waning of the harvest moon, soon he’d lose the ability altogether.

  “Now that I got time to stop and think about it, it's a clever little trick. I didn’t know full-bloods could sculpt metal suppressants of their own these days. Probably explains why business dried up back home….” Rudy mumbled to himself as he stood and stretched, relishing the popping and cracking of his stiff body, now fully awake. He got dressed quickly, struggling with his ill-fitted black boots he traded a day’s worth of labor for. He’d been warned that citizens of the capital city frowned upon uncovered feet and heads, which frankly Rudy found ridiculous. For supposedly being the heart of southern Kinfolk’s domain, they seem repulsed by anything that placed them in touch with their inner beasts. Rudy tucked the shard of Haem silver tied to a translucent shard of quartz dangling from his necklace away. He buttoned his white shirt to his neck to hide it completely. It was part good luck charm and part protective measure, having been side by side with full-blood humans for most of his journey to the Ostanan Empire’s stronghold. As a half-breed, an unwanted child born of a human father and omega Kin mother, Rudy never felt at home in the Human Realm and knew he wouldn’t feel at home among the Kin Empire as well. However, desperate circumstances called for desperate measures, and no human master could provide what he so desperately needed. Only Queen Ostana could.

  “Watch over me, Goddess…” he ended his morning prayer with his usual plea, having dropped to his knees and lowered his head to the direction of the rising sun. Once back on his feet, he reached for the bag on his hip and grabbed a handful of barley to tide him over until he reached the gates. As he got closer and closer to his destination, he’d felt the presence of purebloods growing by the day, which meant he was crossing over “their” territory and couldn’t hunt. If he was caught, he’d be killed on sight. And with taverns nearly nonexistent outside of the capital this close to the battlefield, he couldn't stop for a bite of meat either. It would be many more days—a few weeks, give or take—before he reached the fortified citadel hosting the annual Lunar Carnevale. That’s if he could avoid any skirmishes along the way. If he wanted to make it in time, he had to hurry. But, as Rudy tested his ankle to see if he could shift back into a wolf to speed up the journey, he resigned himself to potentially missing his prime window of opportunity to plead his case before the Otsanan royal family. The nasty fall he took meant as a wolf, his injury remained. He wore no identification and could easily be passed off as an anima in his feral state, shot and killed, or sold into slavery. None of those outcomes was something he could risk. So, Rudy hobbled onward, praying to the Goddess and her Court that a passing caravan with less hostile intent passed him by along the way.

  LUNA<
br />
  Village of Kurwen

  Three Weeks Before the Lunar Carnevale

  Borderlands of the Capital City of Kinev, Otsanan Empire

  “What is wrong with Nox?” Luna tilted his head upward, staring up at Erasma who grinned down at him from above. She always appeared so happy-go-lucky, unusual for someone of her status, a noble-born female alpha. It was especially unusual given the circumstances they found themselves in. However, Luna was pleased to see a happy face in the sea of forlorn expressions he was all but drowning in. Some used their outward joy as a shield from hidden sorrows. Erasma was probably just as broken as they were from burying their brothers and sisters-in-arms. He’d just finished burying the last of their dead within the territorial limits of the Empire. Dusting off his long white ceremonial robes, Luna stood from his kneeling position on the ground. It was a shame they even needed to exist, the gravesites along the way to the Gates of Goloria. But, extreme times called for extreme measures, and the Queen had demanded all of their dead lay within Kin-controlled territory.

  “Luna? What is wrong with Nox? He’s been glaring at the wind for days on end now! Something’s...strange. Wrong… Luna! Are you even listening to me right now?” Flicking aside her long black braids, dark skin chalky with old warpaint, Erasma sped up to catch up with her retreating packmate.

  Luna sighed. The ragged strained sound made his Adam’s apple bob. He was tired of answering for Nox when he could speak for himself! He didn’t know why it wasn’t obvious to Erasma or any of his fellow Kin what had gotten under Nox’s skin. Nevertheless, it wasn’t his business to tell them about Nox’s personal business at all. It was a delicate balancing act, but as their designated alpha, they had to defer to him in all things, even Luna and Erasma who would be considered his equals in any other setting.

  “Luna! Please!” Ersama almost shouted, her voice lowering as they passed their packmates in wolven skin balled up together, fast asleep.