There was nothing Killian enjoyed more than a challenge.

His father used to say that Killian would build a mountain
just so he’d have something to climb or conquer. Whether he
was building forts on their property in Alaska as a human or
chasing rabbits in his wolf form, Killian was always seeking
something to test himself. That was the true sign of a
future king, according to his father. And if all went as
planned, Killian would assume the throne on his thirty-fifth
birthday.

All he needed was a mate.

Ugh.

He stretched his legs out and leaned back against the
leather seat of the town car before casting a glance at Ivan
and David in the front. The two men were his assigned
security detail and had become something akin to friends. As
the heir to the throne, he’d always found friendships
difficult to maintain, and having any kind of relationship
with a woman was even more difficult. Sex wasn’t a problem.
He’d had plenty of that with more human women than he could
count. A ready and willing woman wasn’t the issue. But
finding the right one seemed downright impossible. Killian
was beginning to believe she didn’t really exist.

His parents’ marriage had been arranged, like so many royals
before them, but the difference was that they actually loved
each other. And that was what Killian wanted. He didn’t want
to marry just for the sake of the throne. If he was going to
bind his life to a woman, it would damn well be with the
right woman.

His father had been after him for the past two years to
settle down and take a mate. For shit’s sake, the old man
had ensured that every available she-wolf from all of the
acceptable families had been paraded in front of Killian
since he reached adulthood. They were lovely, really,
beautiful women who would undoubtedly make fine mates—but
none of them were the one.

Aside from the fact that not one of the females captured his
interest beyond a passing fancy, none bore the mark. Since
childhood, Killian had been dreaming of the same woman, with
the mark of the full moon on her left shoulder blade. Each
time it was the same. Naked, she emerged from the water like
some kind of ghostly vision. Her alabaster skin glistened in
the light of the full moon, and only one thing marred that
perfect flesh: a dark circle on her left shoulder—the mark
of the moon.

Killian would chase after her, call to her, and beg the nude
beauty to turn and face him, take pity on him, and put an
end to his loneliness. It wasn’t just her beauty that drew
him to her. He sensed a strength in her that could rival his
own, along with a glimmer of loneliness that he recognized
all too well.

Yet each morning he would awaken just as she was turning
around…and find himself alone again. The vision was always
the same, and as he got older, the recurring dream became
more frequent, frenzied, and desperate.

He’d made the mistake of telling his father about the dream,
and the old man had simply brushed it off as childish
fantasy. The only person who didn’t give him shit about it
was his baby sister, Naomi. She was about ten years younger
than he was and, when she was a little girl, would beg
Killian to tell her about the dreams. Each time she’d sigh
and tell him that it was just like a story in one of her books.

Too bad life wasn’t a fairy tale. Not even for a prince.

Time was running out and his father was losing patience with
him. Maybe he should just pack in this ridiculous idea of
opening a club in the city and go back to Alaska, pick a
mate, and raise a litter of children.

That’s what he should do—but not what he was going to do.

Killian had five years until his father retired and he would
have to take his position as king. If these were going to be
his last years as a free man, a man beholden to no one but
himself, then he was damn well going to make the most of
them. He sure as hell couldn’t do that back in Alaska with
everyone watching his every damn move and playing matchmaker
every other day.

When Killian told his mother and father that he wanted to
open a nightclub, there had been the inevitable pushback.
The only way the old man would agree was if Killian allowed
the king and one of his friends to invest in the club.
Killian owned controlling interest and having his father as
a silent partner wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but he
would buy his father out as soon as possible. The king said
his “friend” wanted to remain anonymous, and even though
that set Killian on edge, he was so eager to get his club
going that he agreed.

Living in a city run by vampires might seem like an odd
choice, but only to those not looking to keep a pack of
werewolves out of their business. So far it had been going
well. The czars and their coven had been surprisingly
welcoming. Most of them, anyway. He had received a couple of
anonymous threatening letters about the club, warning him
that his kind wasn’t welcome in the city, but Killian paid
them little mind. He had the approval of the czars, and
their opinions were the only ones that mattered.

Maybe not the only ones.

A smile played at his lips as he recalled the look on
Sadie’s face when he’d revealed he was opening his own club
in the city. She was quite possibly the most interesting
woman he’d met in his life—and he’d met a lot of women.
Sadie Pemberton was a challenge for many reasons, not the
least of which was because she was a vampire. Aside from
that, she was also one of the czar’s progeny. If he and
Sadie got involved and things went south, it would create a
messy situation politically. Then, of course, there was the
fact that Sadie seemed to have a clear dislike and distrust
of werewolves.

As Killian stared out the window of the limo at the city
streets flashing by, Sadie’s beautiful face and her fiery
dark eyes drifted into his mind.

Vampire or not, that woman would be a challenge. Her dislike
and distrust of his kind had been evident from the second he
met her last year. She was defiant and outspoken, making her
feelings about him perfectly clear, and that outspokenness
lit a fire in his gut. For his entire life, people had done
whatever he wanted and the word “no” was scarcely heard,
unless it came from his father.

He was heir to the throne and constantly surrounded by yes-men.

Not Sadie, though. She seemed to delight in defying him, and
he found that spirit remarkably refreshing. It was as
though, from day one, she had dared him to seduce her, and
damn if he wasn’t attracted to her.

There was something about Sadie, something he
couldn’t put his finger on, and that something kept him
coming back to her club night after night. Telling her that
he was observing the club operations wasn’t a total lie. It
wasn’t the total truth either. At first, he’d gone to the
club to study the business, and it had been helpful. But the
sexy dark-haired vampire had him returning time and again.
It was stupid to get hot and bothered over a vampire,
especially when a relationship between them had no future.