Page 3 of Doubly Bound

Chapter 1

Callan took one look at his buzzing phone and promptly tossed the thing across the room. Another bloody call from that egotistical Witch he’d contracted to help find possible mates for the Triad pairs he was responsible for among the human population.

Half of the population of normals denied the existence of Shifters. The other half were a damned nuisance, always claiming the boogie man did it. And yet, it was the only way forward, or so his Omega had assured him. How else were they to solve the problem of finding mates for the triad pairs of the Shifter world?

But the Witch.

Grrr.

Even his beast was revolted by the woman. Ashley White’s incessant calls were bothersome, true, but it was the way she always seemed to touch him that really put his Dragon on edge.

“Callan, another pair has lodged a complaint. They’re saying none of the women who’ve arrived in the last twenty-four hours are theirs—”

“Well, what the fuck do they want, Landry? Instant mates?” Callan growled deep in his chest.

His Silver Dragon was scratching against his skin. Bad enough he’d been forced to make this deal with the Witch to begin with, but now nothing was working according to plan. The enormous and ancient beast residing inside of him was increasingly frustrated and difficult to handle.

He did not relish their current single state. Not one bloody bit. The Silver Dragon wanted a mate.

Period.

As Head Alpha of the Council of Triads, he was responsible for hundreds of Triad leaders, perhaps even thousands now. Most of whom had yet to find their thirds. Hell, it’d been a long time. But who was counting? An even better question was, how could he and Landry rule such a group of dominant Shifter pairs when his own Alpha beast was growing more and more out of control with each passing day?

“Calm, brother,” Landry, a rare White Liger Shifter, and the Omega in their triad, placed his hand on Callan’s shoulder.

The touch was not sexual in the slightest, but it soothed his Dragon as only an Omega’s powers could. Their bond was formed long ago. He trusted the rare White Liger like none other. Upon meeting, their beasts had formed a symbiotic bond that was unique and unbreakable. Together, they were strong. Once they found their third, they would be unparalleled.

Two parts of a Triad, he and Landry were very much their own men. Their relationship was synergistic, but entirely platonic. The Alpha was the dominant protector, the muscle, whereas the Omega was the soul and sense of the pair. Their elusive third, well, she would be their heart.

The most dominant and powerful Alpha and Omega of them all, Callan and Landry governed all Triad groups. Their natural strength combined was greater than any other pair they’d ever come across. That power would only increase, as would their control, when they were a complete Triad.

Unfortunately, they had always put off searching for their own mate. Even now, they pushed their needs back. At least, until they found a viable solution for the rest of the pairs they governed. It was their solemn duty, after all.

“They distrust the Witches,” Landry said.

“If these assholes object to us using Witches, how pray tell, do they expect us to find their fated mates?” Callan roared, crushing the tumbler of whiskey in his hand.

Shit.

Another fucking mess.

He shook the glass shards from his palm and grunted. Lucky for him, the sharp pieces did not pierce his tough hide. Perks of being a Dragon Shifter.

“Leave the cleaning service another hundred, will you?” Callan asked Landry, who simply grinned and took another crisp bill out of his wallet. The Liger tucked it just under the bottle of Glenlivet Callan had been attempting to imbibe.

“You know, a Scotsman like you should have more respect for his liquor.”

“I haven’t been home in over two hundred years, Landry. I doubt they would consider me a Scot any longer.”

The Dragon Shifter was, in fact, over three hundred years old. He preferred life on Moongate Island to all other places, including the isle of his birth. He and Landry had partnered up a century ago now, but before that, he’d been alone.

Callan had left his Clan the second he came of age. Dragons were fierce beasts, ornery too, and living together was not easy. The Chief of the Clan he’d been born into was a tyrant. Striking out on his own, Callan made his way as a warrior for hire, a mercenary.

That was how he’d met Landry. The White Liger Shifter was wounded in battle. One of the many between Demons and Shifters the normal world knew nothing about. There was always a fight going on between the forces of good and evil on however many planes of existence there were. That was a multi-versal truth the Dragon wholeheartedly believed with every fiber of his being.

Callan felt a pull to the Liger who’d fought so ferociously, only to be wounded by an enemy’s poisoned blade. He was barely clinging to life by the time the Dragon had arrived at his side with their healer in tow. The old Seer had told him of one surefire way to stop the poison.

His Dragon’s blood.

---