Her Vampire Mate: Iron Wolves Next Generation

By Elle Boon

A Fractured Bond. A Broken Soul. A Fate Denied.

LIV... Did love really exist? Happily ever after was for fools or maybe it was for those who weren't like her...broken, damaged, unworthy. She came from death, from the darkest pits of Hell, groomed to be destruction, day in and day out. Her life depended on her ability to kill. She never thought she deserved more in life other than her next breath and that of her crew.

And she was fine with that.

Until she saw him. Khan.

KHAN... He thought he'd known love, but it wasn't true. He was one of the most feared beings on Earth, yet his life was nearly destroyed by the one he'd called his mother. He'd been broken and left for dead until a female came in like an avenging angel. Demons can make you think they're beautiful inside and out. It was a lesson he'd learned the hard way and vowed to never make the same mistake again. However, his future looks bleak without the one thing that completes him.

Until he finds her. Liv.

She's a demon. Or is she?

LOVE ISN'T PERFECT... Life changes in a flash and the two of them must battle as a unit, accepting the love burning within, or be destroyed by the past.

 

**The Vampire's Mate is an all-New Paranormal Romance with the alpha wolves you love. If you love big bad shifters with attitudes and feisty heroines, then the Iron Wolves Next Generation will deliver. USA Today Bestselling Author Elle Boon Author delivers another thrilling, jaw-dropping, love story for the ages. **

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elle Boon
• Release date: Feb 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201755584

Elle Boon

Elle Boon lives in Middle-Merica as she likes to say…with her husband, two kids, and a black lab who is more like a small pony. She’d never planned to be a writer, but when life threw her a curve, she swerved with it, since she’s athletically challenged. She’s known for saying “Bless Your Heart” and dropping lots of F-bombs, but she loves where this new journey has taken her. She writes what she loves to read, and that is romance, whether it’s erotic, Navy SEALs, or paranormal, as long as there is a happily ever after. Her biggest hope is that after readers have read one of her stories, they fall in love with her characters as much as she did. She loves creating new worlds, and has more stories just waiting to be written. Elle believes in happily ever afters, and can guarantee you will always get one with her stories. Connect with Elle online, she loves to hear from you:

Book preview

Prologue

The Hell Realm...

Live breathed out through her nose. The agony threatening to take her to her knees, probably would’ve if she hadn’t been used to it. A moan next to her made her wish the deviant bitch would shut the fuck up and accept her punishment already.

How can you stand it? the prisoner asked through gasps and groans.

Pain is nothing new to me, female, Live said, doing her best to sound unaffected. Hell had ensured the very meaning of the word was deeply ingrained within every cell of her body. From the day she’d been dropped into Hell, her life had been nothing but misery. Live used every difficult breath, every lash for one purpose. To fuel her anger, making her more powerful. There was a saying she’d overheard about things that didn’t kill you making you stronger. After thousands of years, Live was pretty sure there weren’t many beings any tougher than her, save the bastard who sat on the throne.

Most of the things she’d suffered, she’d hidden away in the recesses of her mind. Sort of like a cage, only this one she knew not to feed too much at once, which was why she had to escape from reality any way that she could. Pain could be used in many ways. She used it as an outlet to retreat and to strengthen as well. The beings who’d never cared for the suffering they’d caused others, all of a sudden thought they deserved mercy, like the one next to her now. Live could end her suffering and send her worthless soul straight to Satan, but she’d seen the atrocious things the female had done on her own realm before dying. No, the female deserved to suffer alongside the other demented souls. Unlike Live who was here to appease Satan, the bastard.

Tell me how to be like you, please, she begged.

Live turned her head ever so slightly, staring at the evil that had stalked beings on Earth like they were prey. Humans amazed Live with the way they thought nothing of the things they’d done in their previous life that landed them in Hell. Their selfishness never ceased to shock her as they writhed and begged for mercy, which was beyond foolish in her opinion. Hell had no mercy, and Satan...he loved it when they begged. Dear Rolling Thunder did he love the screamers. But not her. She never screamed or begged. No, she let the pain take her away, suffering and enduring that which would’ve robbed just about every other being, no matter what realm they came from, the ability to do even the most rudimentary things, such as blink, breathe, or sleep. Yet she’d made pain her one and only true friend.

You want to be like me, female? You’d have to start by not being a horrid human. After that, you’d need to shut the hell up and accept your fate. Hell has no place for whiners. You’re here because you belong. There is nothing you can do other than suffer, Live hissed, closing her eyes so she could shut out those around her. With her enhanced hearing, the unmistakable sound of the guards returning came to her. The female would soon hear them as well, which would mean she would be tortured, and hopefully her soul would flitter down to Satan for his enjoyment.

She looked around at the other prisoners, watching as they dropped to their knees, even the female next to her. Live stayed on her ass with her knees drawn up, arms resting on top of them like she hadn’t a care. Silly prisoners.

Why do you not help us? a female asked Live.

How can I help you? Everyone here is a prisoner in the lowest levels of Hell, female. Down here is where the worst of the worst are sent. To find yourself here means the crimes you committed were atrocious, and clearly you did very bad things in order to be where you are. It’s best you accept your fate and the torture that’s your due.

In truth, she no longer felt... anything anymore. Not pain, not sorrow, nothing.

There is something wrong with you. Nobody can cut off pain like you. The female gasped as two prisoners were jerked from the cage. The guards ripped the chains holding all of them together, causing the barbed links to rip into every other prisoners flesh, including hers.

Live was the only one who stayed silent and unmoved. It was her turn to be ripped from the cage and have her flesh stripped from her bones, again. She’d had the same done several times, more than likely it would happen again sometime in the next millennia if she lived that long.

She’d stifled a sigh, standing with an air of boredom during the entire ordeal without making a sound. Her eyes held the demon bastard’s, who was doing his best to break her. He was going to be angry when he didn’t succeed. Poor fella. She could’ve saved him the exertion and told him to just go for the good whip, but that would’ve been too boring.

Female, what is wrong with you? a gravelly voice roared.

In truth, Live hadn’t been paying much attention, so it took her a few seconds to realize she was the female in question. Of course, nobody actually expected her to answer. She continued to let her mind drift and kept smiling or would’ve if her jaw hadn’t been dislocated. At long last, the whip slunk back to its master, leaving her dangling from the chains. With her legs and arms held in magical cuffs, the big demons didn’t have to worry about hitting them, which would hinder their torture.

After she’d been released from the chains, Live lay in a bloody heap on the dais until she regenerated enough that she could make it back to the pit. None of the bastards were willing to touch her because she was deemed a feral female. Bite the face off a few males, and bam, they give you an awesome nickname. The same smile she’d walked out with returned. The grin never wavered during the entire time the demons lashed her except when her jaw was broken. She was pretty sure her face looked gruesome and had given the demons a workout to the extent they’d had to bring in a replacement male to lash her when the first got tired. She took pride in knowing she tended to wear the punishers out. As she entered the pit with the other prisoners, she kept her shoulders back. Although she may not have any skin or tissue on most of her body, she wouldn’t show an ounce of weakness to a single soul, dammit. The good doctor, who was as deviant as they came, had stared in horror at Live. She’d scooted as far as her barbed chains would allow her to go from where the demons reattached Live.

You have a congenital insensitivity to pain. There is no other explanation to what I just witnessed, she muttered. The good doctor was a psychopath in her previous life.

And you would know this how, female? Live rasped, the words hurt for her to form while she rested her head back against the stone wall, the burning surface helping her heal.

My name is Dr. Marsten. I know these things.

Live didn’t have a farquaing clue what the female was going on about or give a flying hoot one way or the other. She also hated the way the female screamed like a little cry baby bitch while Live healed. Inch by slow inch, tissue formed, organs repaired while bones reshaped, and lastly her skin would begin to stretch and cover her body. Live had never watched the process happen. From the way others tended to freak the farqua out, it must be gruesome.

At first, the female had seemed more interested in Live’s regenerative process. Her hand kept touching Live’s hair like it was the strangest thing she’d ever seen. The white-blonde mass was always long and flowing no matter what she’d suffered through, which was probably why the doctor was so interested in touching it. Live zoned the female out while her healing process continued, but the screams began getting on her nerves. After what felt like forever of having to sit and listen to the female howl like a banshee, she snapped. Since her arms were the only things that were strong enough to do anything, she reached over and gripped Dr. Marsten’s head.

Why must you scream? Live asked in a whisper yell. Her voice was reedy but back. Yay for small victories.

I... I can’t do this. The pain—it’s too much, she screamed.

Live noticed then that sometime during her zoning, they’d lashed the doctor a few times. She assessed the wounds on the female, counting maybe ten stripes that were visible.

You can and you will, female. Think of all the innocents you killed without mercy. Ah, I see you think I don’t know why you’re here. Let me tell you something, Doc. I know everything. I know about the school you ran that housed all those innocent children that was nothing but an organ harvest for the rich and disgusting. You took children off the street or from abortion clinics after you talked unsuspecting females into continuing their pregnancies and then giving their babies up for adoption. Only there were no loving families waiting to take them. You and your friends placed them in homes until they were needed. If a client was wealthy and wanted a plaything, you sold that child to him or her. If the organ that was needed wasn’t a death organ like heart or you know, something vital, you kept the child until whatever organ killed them or they were too much trouble to keep. Yes, I saw all the atrocious things you did. Once you were world renowned and considered a brilliant doctor, until what you were doing was discovered. You thought because you took orphans off the street that made it okay, giving them what you called a nice cushiony life, until someone needed one of their organs, whether it was a lung, an eye, or a heart. To you, those children were disposable. Her mind tried to unravel the crazy that was this female.

If I hadn’t saved those babies, they would’ve been killed before they’d been born. At least with me they had a life, Dr. Marsten snarled.

That’s how you justify what you did? You didn’t even give some of them, the ones you knew were going to die during the surgical procedure, like a heart or both lungs... you chose to not give them the human drug that would ensure they didn’t feel pain. Your excuse was because they would be dead. And that’s your excuse now? Yet you accuse me of having some bullshit disorder that means I have no feelings. Female, you have no clue what feeling is, but trust me, you will. Your suffering has only just begun. Live’s fingers twitched and popped, becoming whole.

I saved lives as well.

Her last nerve snapped with the images of wailing children pouring out of the female’s mind. Live lunged the scant few inches that separated them, dislocating her hip that had barely healed, digging her hands into the disgusting female’s mind. Live skipped over the horrors the woman had committed, absorbing knowledge, looking for what she’d meant when she’d talked of Live’s pain insensitivity. She’d seen more than her fair share of evil. Hello, she’d been in Hell for a millennia. It was the children, young and old who’d been slain without remorse that sickened her. Of course, it wasn’t that Live didn’t know there were evil farquas out in all the realms. Her father was Satan after all. But shit, the woman was supposed to be what humans considered a saver of lives, not a taker. Yet, she’d done exactly that and worse, she’d done it for profit and with a smile. Live didn’t miss the excitement in the female’s eyes as she took one of the youngsters into the operating room. No, Dr. Marsten was right where she belonged. Deep within the bowels of Hell, next to others of her ilk. Live pressed on both sides of the female’s head, letting her experience what the children did while she performed the surgeries.

Live let the female’s worthless shell of a corpse drop before kicking her away from her feet. She was still twitching after Live released her, but that would end shortly. The being who was supposed to be doling out the skin ripping smirked down at Live, but he didn’t make a move toward her. Smart demon. Live’s head throbbed for a moment from soaking in all the knowledge from the doctor. She’d have to give the woman points for the genius that she’d been. It was too bad she’d been a twisted bitch who should’ve been put down long before she could harm others.

Why intelligence was wasted on the evil was something she’d asked herself every time she came across an intelligent lifeform in Hell. She pressed her fingers against her temples, working to rid her mind of the atrocities. Thoughts of the poor souls were crowding into her psyche. Not good for the daughter of Satan. It took a lot of effort before she felt a modicum of cleanliness within her soul.

The doctor had thought Live didn’t feel pain, but that wasn’t true. Live welcomed the rush that came with whatever brutality that was coming at her. When she’d torn through the female’s bone and brain matter, the doctor had definitely been in agony, where Live wouldn’t have been. However, there are some hurts that couldn’t be denied. Live had just gotten good at pushing them to the farthest reaches of her mind in order to survive.

Some might think she was no better because of what she’d done, judging, and punishing Dr. Marsten. Sure, there were less painful ways for Live to get information. After she’d seen more than a glimpse of the torture and perverse pleasure the doc enjoyed, she thought it only fair to do a tit-for-tat way. She let the woman experience a little bit of the torture she’d given others. On this level of Hell, you were the worst of the worst. Satan chose only the evilest to be stationed along the lower level. The most vile beings were the ones who were closest to him. They were the ones her father liked to devour himself. Taking all that juicy evil magnified his powers, rejuvenating him.

She often wondered if they’d known they were basically working for Satan on whatever realm they’d come from. On more than one occasion, she’d asked the prisoners if they were offered the chance to go back in time and redo their lives if they would. Most said yes, but Live knew the truth. None of them actually would be different. They were all inherently evil.

The first time she’d seen souls leaving the damned beings bodies’, flowing in a steady stream downward, she followed. The screaming and odd squishing that seemed to go on forever had her curiosity piqued, and like a fool, she’d gone to investigate. Live hadn’t known Satan actually devoured the souls of the vilest beings until she’d been creeping where she shouldn’t have been. There was not enough eye, brain, or soul bleach in all the realms to rid her of the things she’d witnessed. It had been one of the worst times of her life, and to be honest, she wasn’t even sure how long she’d been frozen within the catacombs of his private quarters. Days, weeks, maybe years. When she was finally able to slip away, she felt as though she’d aged a hundred years.

Her anger surged with thoughts of her sisterkin who’d sent her on the fool’s journey to acquire that which was not there. Kyrene had lied, again. Live had to hold herself completely still, as if she were one with the bleeding stone wall. Unable to allow even one molecule of her being to waver or death wouldn’t have come swiftly to her if she’d been caught. Gah, the begging and screaming was worse than when they were chained to the lava pits while their skin and bones melted away bit by bit. Her body shuddered as she pictured the enjoyment on Satan’s face while he partook in eating the blackest of souls. The image would haunt her for the rest of eternity. He fed off of hundreds of beings without appearing to tire or get full, gulping and chomping like he hadn’t eaten in a millennia. Live was sure she’d expire long before he stopped. Heck, during that time, she’d wondered if he was Gluttony incarnate. Satan didn’t discriminate in his devouring. He was insatiable as his lackeys brought in human men and women, demons, and even younglings from all walks of life for his taking and take he did. Of course, none of them were innocents who didn’t deserve to be there.

She couldn’t help but grin at the memory of her slipping away while the big bastard lay, surrounded by the remnants of his feast. With each hour that passed during her long journey back, she’d expected him to appear at any moment.

The lower levels were a place she’d steered clear of due to the fact they were Satan’s preferred stomping grounds. From as far back as she could remember, Kyrene had told her she would be killed on sight by Satan if he caught her. Which begged the question, why had her sisterkin sent her on such a horrendous mission for nothing? Had Kyrene figured out that Live had been gathering knowledge from the Damned and was ready to... make her own way? She was tired of living in the desolate space Kyrene insisted they stay, fighting Gallo Demons by herself, each and every time. Not that they were hard to kill, she just hated doing it like she was putting on a show or something. Plus, the Gallos were Satan’s pets, which meant at some point he would notice and then come looking for who was taking out his beings. When the big red bastard was angry, he tended to get stabby. Which wouldn’t normally be a bad thing for her, except he was the ultimate slayer of all. He could wipe her out with one swipe of his claws or poke from his huge onyx horns. Yes, she tended to cause a lot of pain to his captives, but as long as she didn’t end them, all was fine. At least in her mind. And if she suffered a little pain? Well, that too was no biggie since she’d made pain her bestie. Now that she was also one of the prisoners in the lower level, being moved from one cellblock to another, she was getting a glimpse of the workings around Satan’s lair. And if one of the sickos happened to fall too close to her—it wasn’t her fault if she gathered intel from them. Life was freaking boring as all get out when you were chained to the ground with magical wards keeping you in place for years.

Besides, the beings locked away with her were vile, which meant they should suffer at her hands. Pun totally intended. And in turn, she gained knowledge from other realms. Some of the information she hurriedly washed from her mind, doing her best to rid it completely of all she’d taken if the being was a total waste. And then there were those who contributed to her knowledge. Like the doctor who’d been filled with a plethora of useful information. She sifted through their minds and filed away what she might want or felt might be useful later.

I have no clue when or if I’ll ever need to know how to replace a human heart, but I know how to do it without killing said human. I call that a win. She dusted off her hands, waiting until it was her turn to be tortured again.

Time ticked by. Tick tock. Tick tock. She could hear the sound of the antique thing she’d seen in the mind of one of the humans she’d looked inside. Such a strange apparatus. Why anyone would want a large circular thing with spinning arrows ticking she hadn’t a clue, yet the male had been obsessed with watching the one in his office. Her mind wandered back to the last time she’d faced Kyrene the traitor. How long had it been since that fateful time? Live tried to remember, but in Hell, time had no meaning. She was pretty sure she was going crazy. Her mind, which had always been one of her greatest assets, felt...fractured.

Finally. I thought you’d decided to go off on your own and leave me after all I’ve done for you. Kyrene stood near the entrance looking frail with wisps of gray hair blowing behind her.

She did her best not to roll her eyes, a little shocked to see the state her sister was in. I had to hide within Satan’s chamber while he devoured hundreds of beings. Were you aware it was his feeding time, sisterkin?

Kyrene’s eyes flashed red, reminding Live of their father. How would I know his schedule, child?

When her sister got angry, the ‘s’ came out a hiss. Usually Live would back down and try to placate the other female. Except his time she was tired. An urgency that told her she was in danger made her look around, expecting to see demons converging on them. She tried to walk past Kyrene to enter the cave that had been her home for, well, since she’d been only days old.

Kyrene had picked Live up out of a pile of ash and flames where her mother had thrown her like a worthless piece of garbage. Live didn’t know anything