Warrior Tamed: A Fated Guardian Paranormal Romance (Rise of the Lost Gods Book 3) Read online

  Warrior Tamed

  Rise of the Lost Gods - Book 3

  Nicole Hall

  Contents

  Foreword

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Accidental Magic

  A Note from Nicole

  Also by Nicole Hall

  About the Author

  Thanks for picking up this copy of Warrior Tamed!

  If you love magic, sass, and tasers with your romance, pick up your FREE copy of Muse Interrupted, the prequel story for Nicole Hall’s Rise of the Lost Gods series. Just click here! (www.nicolehallbooks.com/signup)

  To all the Wisconsin people who helped make this book happen, especially a special someone whose name rhymes with Karissa.

  1

  Cypress

  “I am a mighty warrior.” Cypress whispered the phrase to herself as she huffed next to a perfectly built Barbie clone. Her legs had veered dangerously toward gelatinous twenty minutes ago, but she’d be damned if she’d be that girl. She’d side kick until her leg fell off if that’s what the sadistic instructor demanded.

  Her normal spot, the farthest back corner where the bright overhead lights didn’t quite reach, had been requisitioned for a stack of Bosu balls. Cypress loved her gym, every inch of the dark, gritty interior, but she didn’t exactly fit in. The place attracted muscle-y people intending to kick other people’s asses, not a would-be baker whose last name was actually Baker.

  None of which stopped her from coming at least once a week to hit up a fitness class that made her want to punch something. The high-revved music ended, and Cypress bent over to suck in air. Sweat dripped from her face to the floor, and she could hear the plop, plop in the sudden silence.

  Dimitri, the gruff owner who also ran the class, switched to soft music and called for a cool-down. The Barbie clone jogged in place, and the other eight people in the class followed suit. As far as Cypress was concerned, jogging did not constitute a cool-down. Jogging was what she did when she was being chased by something.

  With a silent groan, Cypress straightened and tried to lift her tired legs. She wasn’t out of shape, but she had ample curves passed down to her by a long line of curvy ancestors. They’d also passed along their sass, and most importantly, their magic.

  The jogging mercifully switched to static stretching, and Cypress considered using her meager gifts to trip Barbie. Was it petty? Yes, but she deserved some joy after a rough day. Dimitri ended with his usual spiel about accepting the warrior within, and Cypress let the moment pass. She knew better than to use her magic for evil.

  Barbie pulled out a small towel, dabbed her glistening forehead, and smiled at Cypress. “I love your hair. I don’t know how you manage to have such perfect loose curls after a class like this.”

  Cypress resisted the urge to touch her ponytail. Guilt for her thoughts from a second ago made her cringe internally. See? Instant karma. She smiled back and said thanks as the woman shouldered her bag and left.

  It had always been this way. Her magic made people inadvertently like her. Not that she minded, the phenomenon certainly made life easier, but the happy glow usually wore off after they got to know her. It would be nice if people liked her because of her personality, instead of despite it. Dimitri shut the lights out in the studio, and Cypress hurried to grab her gear before he locked her in.

  He’d done it before. Dimitri could be a dick, and he didn’t have a lot of patience for dawdling. The rest of the building had already closed, so only a few lights near the exit lit the large space. Cypress shivered as she walked past the racks of hanging bags in the dark, her bare feet scuffling on the mats.

  Being lithe and fast as well as a dick, Dimitri beat her across the room. He waved without looking back as he pushed through the big metal door and into the night beyond. Again, not for the first time, Cypress was the last to leave.

  She’d been coming to this gym since she’d returned to Deckard with a business degree and an empty future, but she had yet to beat Dimitri out of the building. It would serve him right if she robbed him blind instead of struggling to bend over and put on her shoes.

  Apparently, petty was her go-to for the evening.

  The exit door only locked from the outside, unlike the studio, so she’d have no trouble getting out. Cypress tied her sneakers and hefted her backpack over her shoulder. One of these days, she’d brave the locker room again—the unisex locker room—instead of driving thirty minutes home marinating in her own sweat.

  The warm pine-scented night surrounded her as she pushed through the door, letting it close behind her with a loud clang. Sometimes she missed the cooler temperatures in Denver, but times like this—when she could feel the air caress her skin like a lover—made up for all the moisture.

  The gym backed up to forest on two sides and a sketchy strip mall in the other direction, so the parking lot was never completely dark. Cypress took two steps off the sidewalk, then hesitated as the big overhead bulb flickered ominously. Her mint green VW Beetle sat all alone in a pool of questionable light.

  Cypress wasn’t stupid. She’d lived in a metro area for years, and she listened to her instincts. Something different was going down tonight, and not in a way she appreciated. Her magic tightened like a band around her chest, warning her to be careful. A tendril of anticipation charged the air around her, so she did what any smart, self-sufficient woman would do.

  She hiked up her backpack and ran for the car.

  Spoiler alert: she didn’t make it. Cypress skidded to a stop when a young, scrawny guy in an oversized hoodie stepped out of the darkness between her and her car. She’d checked. She knew she’d checked. What the hell?

  He shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket and stared a hole through her with watery blue eyes. “Give me your keys.”

  Perfect. Cypress blew out a breath and tested the air with her magic. His trail was easy enough to follow. He’d come from the strip center, skirting around the parking lot lights to hide in the darkness beyond her car.

  Not that his whereabouts ten seconds ago really helped. He was taller than her, even hunched over, and his pants sagged around his ass. With his crotch at mid-thigh, Cypress thought she might be able to out-run him, but where would she go? The forest? The stores were all closed, and honestly, he wasn’t particularly intimidating. Thug-Lite at most.

  Without any visible weapons on him, Cypress went for short and sweet. “No.”

  He scowled and took a step closer. “Are you stupid, lady? I said give me your keys.”

  His hand emerged from his pocket, and he did a complicated back and forth maneuver that ended with a knife in his palm. The gleam of light reflecting off the blade made Cypress reassess his danger level. She only had a change of clothes, her wallet, and her epi-pen in her backpack, nothing that would help her defend herself.

  Her adrenaline kicked up, and she did what she always did when in trouble—talked her way out of it with brash confidence. “Are you crazy? I just came out of an MMA gym. You’re lucky my thighs are sore and I’m willing to let you go with a warning.”

  Thug-Lite didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t move any closer. Progress.


  Cypress was about to threaten an ass-kicking when a deep voice came from behind her. “That’s very generous of you.”

  Shivers of awareness rode up her spine. For half a second, she worried Thug-Lite had a partner, then she turned around. Holy maiden, mother, and crone. The man looked like he’d walked out of one of her fantasies. Now this guy would be worth sore thighs.

  He leaned against the building, tall—so tall—and laden with muscles everywhere. Faded jeans clung to his hips, and a dark grey Henley showed off broad shoulders and cut biceps as he crossed his arms. Cypress took in the tousled black hair and sharp jawline covered in stubble before she landed on his eyes. Dark, like the rest of him, but gleaming in amusement.

  She knew those eyes—had seen them before in dreams that left her spent and craving more at the same time. Being a daughter of magic, Cypress didn’t discount strange occurrences in everyday life, but in this case, she hoped the dreams had been one-sided.

  She also hoped this guy was planning to help her. “I’m nothing if not generous.”

  He perused her tight leggings and athletic tank, lingering on her hips. “I would say you’re a great deal more than nothing.”

  So much for the kind, sexy stranger. An embarrassed flush warmed her cheeks. “Screw you, buddy. Hasn’t anyone told you strong is the new skinny?”

  His brows drew together. “I’m unfamiliar with that phrase.”

  “You would be,” she muttered, her gaze raking over him again. He belonged on a beefcake calendar holding a puppy in front of his junk.

  Thug-Lite cleared his throat, and Cypress glanced back at him. She’d legitimately forgotten he was there. Beefcake was going to get her killed.

  Cypress balanced her weight on her toes in case she really did have to run, and raised a brow at her ill-timed attacker. “Should we get to the ass-kicking now or did you need a minute?”

  A silky laugh from behind her raised her hackles, even as she watched Thug-Lite shrink into himself. He held the knife loosely by his leg, and his eyes darted left and right.

  Cypress knew she should be grateful for Beefcake’s presence, but Thug-Lite wasn’t the only one affected. A slow, delicate burn spread through her blood, pooling low in her belly. She recognized magic when she felt it, and she didn’t appreciate the big guy working his voodoo without asking first.

  Time for a show of dominance.

  She propped a hand on her cocked hip, turned so she could see both men, and sent Beefcake a saucy smile. “I can handle this…thanks.”

  Cypress included a quick burst of her own magic with the words, and he looked stunned for an instant. She got that reaction a lot when people were faced with the full force of her personality. This was the first time she’d surprised someone with her magic.

  Beefcake recovered faster than most. He smirked at her and pushed away from the bricks, moving with sensual grace that almost had Cypress licking her lips. “I can handle it better.”

  “It’s not your—”

  Beefcake ignored her as he approached Thug-Lite, and Cypress threw her hands up.

  The guy skittered back and held his hands up in surrender, the knife conspicuously absent. “Look, man. I don’t want any trouble.”

  “That’s what they always say when they’re about to get their asses kicked,” she muttered.

  Beefcake slanted a look in her direction. It could have been amusement or a plea for silence—hard to tell in the dark. Thug-Lite took advantage of Beefcake’s distraction and bolted for the strip mall he’d crawled out of.

  Cypress grunted in surprise as she watched him go. She’d been wrong about the saggy pants limiting his speed. Or maybe he’d have been slower with less frightening motivation. Beefcake turned to study her, and Cypress realized she was now alone with the frightening motivation.

  She pulled the keys from the side pocket of her backpack and debated her path. Beefcake had taken Thug-Lite’s spot between her and the car, but he hadn’t threatened her well-being, just her ability to make non-sex-based decisions.

  Case in point, she hadn’t called the police. Yet. He seemed to read the wariness on her face because he put his hands up like Thug-Lite had and backed out of her path. Cypress didn’t move. If he wanted to catch her, he would. She’d had a chance against the scrawny guy, but she had no illusions she could outmaneuver Beefcake.

  Since he didn’t seem eager to leave, Cypress assumed he wanted something from her—most likely related to the magic she’d used on him. He’d felt it. After her little demonstration, he’d eased off the voodoo, but a trace of heat still thrummed inside her.

  Tendrils of hair escaped her ponytail, and though a breeze lifted them off her neck, it did nothing to cool her. Cypress met his eyes as the moment ticked on longer than she’d like. Silence made her uncomfortable, but Beefcake tilted his head just enough that she knew he was waiting for her to speak.

  The urge to say something—anything—overwhelmed her, but she wasn’t going to lose this contest. Cypress may not be patient, but she didn’t back down from a challenge. Electricity buzzed between them, raising the hairs on her arms. His lips curled into the tiniest smile, as if he were enjoying himself.

  Cypress felt an answering smile try to peek through. She hadn’t been this intrigued by a guy in…ever, maybe. As a general rule, she didn’t trust the big hero who saved the damsel in distress. They usually had their own reasons for interfering. Not that there was anything wrong with alternative motivation, but it didn’t make a solid basis for a relationship.

  That said, she loved a guy who wasn’t afraid to let his dominant side play. Cypress had a tendency to walk all over the weak-willed ones.

  After another tension-filled moment, Beefcake broke the silence. “You control your magic.”

  It wasn’t a question, but she sensed an undertone of surprise. “So do you.”

  Honestly, she hadn’t met anyone else with enough power to actually affect another person. In college, there had been plenty of wishful thinkers and a few scammers that claimed they could use magic, but none with any oomph. Even her mom, who had taught her the way, could only do basic kitchen witchery.

  Beefcake narrowed his eyes as if he were trying to figure her out. “Do you know what you are?”

  She blinked at his strange phrasing. “What I am? I’m a lot of things. Right now, I’m tired and frustrated.” And horny, but he hadn’t earned that information yet.

  “A demigod.”

  Cypress couldn’t help it. She laughed, guffawed even. “What does that make you?”

  He stood a little straighter. “Ares, God of War, and your guardian.”

  Her mirth died at the pride on his face, in his squared shoulders. He really believed what he’d said. “You’re telling me I’m a half-god, and I have a divine guardian who protects me from creeps in parking lots? That’s a new one.”

  “What explanation do you have for your magic?”

  Cypress inched toward her car. “It’s a family heirloom. Nature-based religion is kind of our thing.”

  He shook his head and made a sound of disgust. “They couldn’t even get this part right. The Fates should have explained to your ancestors what they irrevocably changed. Only gods and demigods can use magic. Thanks to the Fates, yours is locked behind a bond with a guardian, or it should be. You have access to more power than the others. More control. I’m not sure how that could be possible though. My magic recognized yours as your guardian, but perhaps there was another before me. Who else have you bonded with?”

  “I can assure you I haven’t bonded with anyone. I’ve always had these abilities, no guardian needed.” Cypress hit the button to unlock her car, and Ares frowned at the beep.

  “I’ll escort you home.”

  “Did you miss the part about no guardian needed?”

  “I made a promise a thousand years ago that I plan to fulfill. You’re my responsibility, and I’ll see you safe.”

  A thousand years, fate, the dreams. Something deep inside Cypress wan
ted it to be true. She’d never been the one. The most important. The main character. Usually, her role consisted of plucky sidekick. Self-preservation demanded she shove that hope back into the dark recesses of her mind where it belonged.

  Cypress adopted a dramatic tone. “A promise of a thousand years…This is like some kind of screwed up historical romance. All you need is a kilt.”

  Ares—and she wasn’t sure she could keep calling him that—tilted his head. “Do you take nothing seriously?”

  “You should see me go after a pizza.”

  He frowned. “Are you mocking your size again?”

  That stupid blush came back. He wasn’t supposed to call her on her self-deprecating humor. She’d worked hard for her muscles, and she was proud of her body.

  “Forget that. You’re a strange man who approached me in a dark parking lot, and you claim to know who I—” Cypress narrowed her eyes. “You followed me here. Did you convince Thug-Lite to come after me just so you could play big hero?”

  He scowled. “I would never hurt you.”

  A shiver coursed over her at his words. She’d heard them before. In her dreams. Her mom had taught her to trust herself, always. That her instincts were her best weapon against the world. Her instincts said to climb this guy and ride him until she couldn’t see straight.

  Apparently, her instincts were horny too.

  Cypress fiddled with the keys in her hand and took a deep breath. “Let’s say I believe you. How many demigods are there? Why haven’t I met any others? Do they all get guardian gods? Is there a secret handshake?”

  His lips twitched again, and Cypress really wanted to see what that felt like against her skin. “I only know the answer to one of those questions. All other guardians are human.”