Claimed by the Wolves: Paranormal Romance Short Story Collection

By Clara A. Tobin

Six Erotic Paranormal Romance Short Stories

Let yourself be transported to another time and place far away where you can indulge in this erotic collection. Six standalone short stories full of sexy wolves, bears and exotic dragons!

Protected by the Wolf
Claimed by the Wolves
Chosen by the Bears
Taken by the Alpha Bears
Dating the Dark Dragon Shifter
Protected by the Royal Dragon


Protected by the Wolf
A Wolf Shifter Romance

What would you do if your lover was both a man and an animal?

Chelsea Hayes leads a quiet, ordered life as a telecommuter in the big city. She's taken pains to make a life for herself in which she needs to deal with other people exactly as much as she wants and needs. But when she decides to start working some days with her tablet at Cafe Rufus, everything changes—because that's when Derek Brasco, the owner of the Internet coffee house, spots her. 

And wants her.

At first he keeps his distance, respecting the boundaries between business owners and customers. But Derek, like those who work in his Cafe and some of their other customers, is a creature of instinct; a creature whose hungers and feelings and desires are as much those of an animal as those of a man.

And both the man and the animal in Derek want the beautiful woman who sits alone at the table against the wall. 

What follows is a risk that Derek is forbidden to take, and a passion such as Chelsea has never known... 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clara A. Tobin
• Release date: Jan 6, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393918752

Book preview

Claimed by the Wolves

Claimed by the Wolves

Paranormal Romance Short Story Collection

Clara A. Tobin

Contents

Story 1: Protected by the Wolf

Story 2: Claimed by the Wolves

1. The Man amongst the Dolls

2. Blaque

3. Shame

4. The Estate

Story 3: Chosen by the Bears

1. Northern Scare

2. Duality

3. Decisions

Story 4: Taken by the Alpha Bears

Story 5: Dating the Dark Dragon Shifter

1. After Hours

2. The Dragons

3. Safe and Secure

Story 6: Protected by the Royal Dragon

1. The Rose Palace

2. Sipriana

3. The Meeting

4. Shadow from the Skies

5. A New Beginning

Sneak Peek: Pureblood Panther

Sneak Peek: The Alien Invasion

Sneak Peek: Captured by the Alien Barbarians

More Books by the Author

About the Author

Claimed by the Wolves

Copyright 2020 © Clara A. Tobin

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.

Warning: This story contains mature themes and language. It is intended to be enjoyed by an 18+ audience only.

The characters, places, and events portrayed in this book are completely fiction and are in no way meant to represent real people or places.

About this Collection

Six Erotic Paranormal Romance Short Stories

Let yourself be transported to another time and place far away where you can indulge in this erotic collection. Six standalone short stories full of sexy wolves, bears and exotic dragons!

Protected by the Wolf

Claimed by the Wolves

Chosen by the Bears

Taken by the Alpha Bears

Dating the Dark Dragon Shifter

Protected by the Royal Dragon

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Protected by the Wolf

A Wolf Shifter Romance

What would you do if your lover was both a man and an animal?

Chelsea Hayes leads a quiet, ordered life as a telecommuter in the big city. She’s taken pains to make a life for herself in which she needs to deal with other people exactly as much as she wants and needs. But when she decides to start working some days with her tablet at Cafe Rufus, everything changes—because that’s when Derek Brasco, the owner of the Internet coffee house, spots her.

And wants her.

At first he keeps his distance, respecting the boundaries between business owners and customers. But Derek, like those who work in his Cafe and some of their other customers, is a creature of instinct; a creature whose hungers and feelings and desires are as much those of an animal as those of a man.

And both the man and the animal in Derek want the beautiful woman who sits alone at the table against the wall.

What follows is a risk that Derek is forbidden to take, and a passion such as Chelsea has never known...

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Claimed by the Wolves

A Wolf Shifter Menage Romance MMF

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Chosen by the Bears

A Werebear Menage Romance

Mia. A college student with not much more on her mind than her terrible biology homework and that dashing Thaniel in her math class.

Thaniel. Of Native American descent, tan skin, a model‘s face, and dark hair. He’s had his eye on Mia for a while.

Luca. A beauty from the northern forest, his eyes are piercing and his intensions are carnal.

Both Thaniel and Luca have a secret about them, and when Mia catches on to their spiritual gifts and finds compassion with them both. But… can she really choose between two gorgeous men, or are they going to choose her fate for her?

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Taken by the Alpha Bears

An Alpha Werebear Menage Romance

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Dating the Dark Dragon Shifter

A Dragon Shifter Romance

Serafina is an average employee working at the Throwback Theater. She feels belittled by her manager and only brightens when a familiar face routinely walks through the theater doors to greet her.

Dark, mysterious, steady, and sharing the same interests as Fina made Asher the perfect man. His gothic attire, handsome face, and incredibly exotic yellow eyes draw her in. Everything seems so perfect when he invites her to go out on their first date.

But a terrifying visit from a massive, reptilian monster causes Asher to reveal a surprising secret to Fina. Does she run away in utter fear—or does she embrace this new news?

---

Protected by the Royal Dragon

A Royal Dragon Shifter Romance

Story 1: Protected by the Wolf

About a month ago, Chelsea Hayes had started going to a cafe a couple of blocks away from her apartment. She would take her iPad and headphones and while away the hours there, working over coffee and sometimes lunch or dinner. The advantage of her job as a freelance blogger was that she could work anywhere on her own schedule, and that was the way she liked it. Chelsea had never liked going to work in an office for someone else, and being on someone else’s schedule, and having to deal with other people all day. She had never cared for rising early in the morning, at least not to go someplace else except when she was traveling, and she had never liked having to arrange her day and her life around other people’s interests. She much preferred arranging work around her life, not her life around work. So when she was not buried in her cubicle at the office and not feigning interest in the meaningless talk at staff meetings, Chelsea had taken up blogging and Web copywriting with a very singular purpose in mind: to free herself from the need of that or any other regular work-a-day job. And it had paid off.

She had lined up enough clients and enough work that she was gradually able to wean herself off of the paycheck from the work-a-day job and make the transition to being a full-time telecommuter. It was one of the happiest days of her life when she at last emptied out her cubicle, said her goodbyes to people whom she did not particularly care if she ever saw again, and walked out the office door, never to look back.

So it was that Chelsea had sealed herself up in her apartment to work online, going out only when she needed to get a breath of the air outside or do her routine errands. And she liked it that way. She was not antisocial, but she had never been what people call a people person when they were trying to ingratiate themselves with others. She had never cared much for the perceived obligation to schmooze around with people and try to bond with them regardless of whether she was actually interested in them, which she seldom was. She had never cared for the idea that she should ever try to be anything other than just her own self, which was not a person who liked crowds and noise and din and commotion. Chelsea liked quiet and calm and she didn’t like stress, nor did she appreciate stressful people. What she had done for work, she knew, was the best thing for her. She had ignored what her parents had always told her about the need to work away her life for someone else, leasing out her years for a pension when she reached her sixties and had more life behind her than ahead of her. She wanted her life to herself while she still had plenty of it left.

But of late she had begun to feel as though her apartment were another cubicle, a cubicle in which she was spending her whole life rather than forty hours a week of it. Perhaps it might be better if she did spend some of her time not at home, but in a place where she could work and yet still have no one else’s demands on her. She remembered the cafe just a short walk away, a place that had a sign with a silhouette of a wolf howling at a coffee cup. She had looked in the window a few times and thought it seemed comfortable enough. So Chelsea had begun to frequent Cafe Rufus, telecommuting via WiFi from the cafe and participating in the new digital economy, being a member of the new online workforce. There was a man at Cafe Rufus who reminded Chelsea that she had turned off the part of herself that still wanted a relationship after breaking it off with her last boyfriend because she did not feel ready for marriage. He was a handsome man; indeed the most beautiful-looking man she had ever seen. He was nice enough to look at. If nothing else, Chelsea thought, he would make a fine momentary distraction now and then. And so Chelsea became more or less a regular at the cafe.

She’s here!

Derek Brasco was sitting in his office at the back of Cafe Rufus, going over yesterday’s receipts and expenses, when Finney cracked open the door and poked his head in. It was when Derek looked up from his computer that Finney, who was blond, stubble-faced, and seemingly in a perpetual grin, said it.

Narrowing his eyes, knowing what his longtime best friend and assistant manager was talking about, Derek answered simply, She’s here?

Yep! Finney answered, grinning a little wider. Coming out?

Derek sighed. The whole thing seemed so childish, the behavior of a pup, not a responsible grownup who owned a cafe. I’ll be there in a minute.

Finney pulled his head back out the office door and shut it behind him. Derek got up from behind his desk, straightened his casual clothes as if he were adjusting an expensive suit, and started for the door himself. Between the corner where his desk was and the door, there was a mirror on the wall. He checked himself in the mirror. The 27-year-old man who looked back at him did not seem as confident as he ought to be. Derek was tall, with a thick crown of dark hair tousled on his head. His upper lip and jawline were as stubbled as Finney’s; as Finney always looked amused, Derek always looked as if he had just rolled out of bed with one of the girls who told him that he was the handsomest thing they had ever seen in their lives—and as if he were ready to dive right back into bed with them. With his deep brown eyes he studied the perfectly muscled arms, pecs, and abs that lurked under the muscle-top shirt he was wearing, and the thick and sinewy trunks of the legs under his tight jeans. He had everything to offer—exceptional looks, his own successful business in the city. She was out there, no doubt at her usual table, right now. He should introduce himself by personally bringing her a free refill of her coffee. That would hardly be inappropriate. As the owner of Cafe Rufus, he ought to be friendly to his customers.

It was only that to this particular customer, Rufus wanted to be a good deal more than friendly, and he had the big, aching bulge in the crotch of those jeans to prove it.

This is stupid, Derek thought. The community knows what kind of place I run and who comes here. There are plenty of our own females in and out of here every day, and I could be in and out of them easily enough. I know some of them have had their eye on me. I should go with one of them.

But the fact was that she was out there right now. She had been coming in for weeks. He had spotted her on her first visit, and recognized her as not being a member of his own community. But what strained in his jeans did not care; it wanted what it wanted, and it told him so on his way to the door and out of the office.

He had learned her name from the receipts on her credit card orders: Chelsea. The name had been on his mind every day since she started patronizing the cafe: Chelsea. Stepping out into the cafe proper, he scanned the room and all the customers sitting at the tables with their coffees and teas and juices and sandwiches. And there, at the usual table against the right-hand wall, she sat as she always did. Her mug of coffee rested to the right of her iPad on whose peripheral keyboard she was typing something as usual. There, nestled in whatever corner of cyberspace she occupied, was Chelsea.

Even for a female not of his own kind, Chelsea was a vision. She always wore pullover sweaters as tight as the muscle tops that Derek wore; sweaters that perfectly disclosed the fullness and roundness of her breasts and gave just a tantalizing hint of her nipples. She had chestnut-brown hair, which she always kept in a French braid. She hardly ever looked up from her iPad except to pick up her coffee or nibble at whatever she was eating. Sometimes when Derek came out to watch her on the pretext of pitching in behind the counter or at the register, he would catch her momentarily glancing up at some of the other people who came in and drank and ate and left, and on occasion her blue-grey eyes would fall on him. As soon as their eyes met, she would immediately turn her attention back to what she was doing on her tablet, as if she did not want him to know that she noticed him. Not wanting to intrude, Derek always allowed Chelsea her space. Of late, however, he was beginning to rethink that decision. More and more he was feeling the desire to be in much more than Chelsea’s space.

Derek went around behind the counter to where Finney was working the register while a female barista with short brown hair and a ring in one nostril worked the grill and the coffee makers. As discreetly as he knew how, Finney said, You must really have it bad for this one. Usually it doesn’t make a difference when the girl’s not one of our own. And he cocked an eyebrow suggestively while, behind the register where only Derek could see, he made a circle with the thumb and index finger of one hand and thrust the index finger of the other hand through it multiple times. Derek frowned, feigning annoyance at the hand sign for copulation, knowing full well that Finney was right. For the first time since...well, his first time...Derek was actually hesitating in the pursuit of tail, his own kind or otherwise, and it was beginning to bother him. He had never been intimidated by any female, no matter how beautiful she was. And considering his own looks, he never had to be. He had bedded plenty of beauties, both Chelsea’s kind and his own.

The trouble was that on some level Derek could sense that Chelsea was not merely a female to whom he wanted to do what Finney had imitated with his fingers. If Derek hesitated, he knew, it was because this time—just this time—he sensed he might feel something more. Chelsea was not the sort of female to be simply hit on. Chelsea, he sensed, was another sort altogether.

Shut up and take a break, he told Finney in mock irritation. Or go wipe down some tables or fill the dishwasher or something. Geez... He shook his head as Finney stepped away from the register and Derek took his place, but before he went, Finney pointed at Chelsea and then at Derek, grinning mischievously, and did the finger-fucking gesture again. Derek pretended to want to swat him upside the face, and Finney, chuckling because he knew he was right, went off to collect some cups and saucers from the bus bin.

So Derek manned the register and rang up customers who took their drinks and food from the barista, and he watched Chelsea work on her iPad and sip at her coffee, and once—just once—he saw her look up and around the cafe. Derek always wondered if those who were not his kind ever had any inkling of where they were, of who he and Finney and the other staff and some of the other customers were. Did they suspect? Would it ever even cross their minds? As it happened so often, Chelsea’s eyes wandered across the room until they met his. And as it always happened when they glanced at each other, Derek shot her a little smile. Chelsea reacted to this as she always did, and dove at once back into her screen and keyboard.

But this time, when Derek watched her take the deep and lingering swallow from her mug that meant she was finished with her coffee, he made a decision. He turned to the barista and asked, See that woman over there? The one in the tight sweater and the French braid? What’s she drinking?

The barista gazed over at Chelsea and remembered, Mmm... She’s a Dark Colombian Roast today. No...wait. No, she’s a Hazel Nut. Yeah, Hazel Nut.

You’re sure? Derek asked pointedly.

The barista nodded certainly and repeated, Yeah. Hazel Nut.

Cream? Sugar?

Both.

Good. Make me another one for her.

The barista went to the machine with the Hazel Nut coffee and emptied some into a mug. While she was there, Finney stepped over to her, pointed to Derek, and did the fucking gesture again. Shut up! she whispered, stifling a laugh. And she took the mug to Derek.

As Derek fixed the coffee the way he understood Chelsea liked it, the barista went back to the coffee machines and Finney whispered in her ear, Plenty of cream!

Shut up! she whispered back, and swatted at his chest. Finney chortled, then looked out to watch Derek take the coffee to the table against the right-hand wall.

Derek stepped to the side of Chelsea’s table, set the fresh mug of coffee before her, and took away the empty mug. It was then she looked up at him for the first time with something other than a surreptitious glance, and spoke to him for the first time. What’s this for?

Refill, on the house, said Derek.

I didn’t know you did that, she said.

I may make it a new thing. I thought I’d try it out on you. He hoped he was sounding interested, but not forward. He needed to feel her