Fated Ink, 3
Brielle Johnston hadn’t known about nor believed in magic—until it tore her world apart. One strange night at Fated Ink exposes secrets she can’t explain, power she can’t control, and a destiny that refuses to be ignored.
When Hunter and Lennox Garrison walk into her life, everything gets even more complicated. They’ve only just discovered that they’re shifters, and somehow, their awakening is tied to hers. The connection between them is instant and overwhelming, their combined power attracting attention from forces far darker than they understand.
Caleb, a warlock with his own twisted agenda, sees Brielle as the key to something ancient—and he’ll do anything to claim her. With her newfound magic spiraling out of control, Brielle must learn who she really is before her enemies decide for her.
New power. New love. New danger.
The Goddess isn’t done choosing for her fated ones—and Brielle is about to find out what destiny really costs.
Be Warned: menage sex (MFM), anal sex, double penetration
Excerpt:
Hunter and Lennox jumped out of the rig as soon as it stopped rolling. The smell of rain, exhaust, and human panic hit them all at once. Flashing red lights bounced off the wet pavement as they grabbed their medical kits and stretcher from the back.
A man was waiting near the front doors of the apartment building, pacing and checking his phone. He looked up sharply as they approached. “Fourth floor. Cardiac arrest. Elevator’s to your right.” His tone was clipped, efficient—but the moment they got close, both brothers froze.
The scent hit them like a freight train.
Hunter sucked in a sharp breath, his pulse slamming. It wasn’t just adrenaline—it was her. Sweet, electric, and alive in a way that hit every primal instinct he had. Lennox’s nostrils flared, his grip tightening on the stretcher handle. The scent of their mate wrapped around them like heat, coiling low in their guts.
“Holy hell,” Lennox muttered, almost under his breath. “You smell that?”
Hunter nodded once, jaw tight. “Yeah. She’s close.”
The stranger heard them. A smirk ghosted across his mouth, but his eyes narrowed, sharp and calculating. He inhaled once, the faintest shift in his posture betraying the fact that he scented them, too. His voice was quiet, edged. “Problem?”
Hunter forced a shake of his head, voice steady. “No. Let’s move.”
The three of them pushed into the lobby, rolling the stretcher toward the lift. The doors opened with a soft ding, and Lennox guided the equipment inside while Hunter tapped the button for the fourth floor. The confined space made the scent stronger. It was like being trapped in a storm.
“You think it’s her?” Lennox whispered, voice barely audible.
Hunter’s hands flexed on the stretcher rail. “I don’t think. I know.”
The lift jolted to a stop, and the doors slid open to chaos. People stood in doorways, frightened, whispering. Their guide moved quickly down the hall. “Apartment 407,” he said over his shoulder.
Hunter frowned but kept his focus. “You know the patient?”
The man gave a terse nod. “A family that lives here. A grandmother and her grandson.” He didn’t offer more, his tone too sharp for further questions. “She’s crashing.”
They burst inside. The room was thick with tension and a sharp tang of fear. The first thing Hunter saw was her—Brielle. Kneeling beside the patient, curls spilling over her shoulder, caramel skin glowing under the harsh lights. Her voice was steady, commanding, but when she looked up, her eyes caught his and time seemed to stop.
Lennox stumbled at his side, one hand gripping the doorframe for balance. The connection slammed into both of them—an invisible pull, powerful and wild. But instead of linking, it snapped back, leaving them gasping from the sudden void.
Then the boy’s voice shattered the silence. “Nana!”
Hunter forced himself into motion. “We’ve got it from here,” he said, moving forward fast. Brielle and Ursula shifted aside without hesitation. Lennox dropped beside him, setting up the defibrillator while Hunter started compressions.
“One, two, three, four—come on, sweetheart, breathe for me,” Hunter murmured between counts. His voice was rough, the tone of a man used to coaxing the dying back from the edge. He pushed hard and fast, his shoulders straining as seconds turned into minutes. Sweat dripped from his temple, his chest burning, but he didn’t slow.
“Still no pulse,” Lennox muttered, checking the monitor. “Charging to two hundred. Clear!”
Hunter leaned back, chest heaving. The woman’s body jolted under the shock, but the monitor stayed flat. “Again. Resume compressions,” Lennox ordered.
Hunter locked his arms and started the rhythm again. “One, two, three, four—damn it, don’t quit on me.”
“Charging again,” Lennox said, his voice taut. “Clear!”
Another jolt surged through the woman. This time her chest hitched, a shallow gasp forcing its way out. The monitor flickered, wavering between flat and weak peaks.
Hunter pressed his fingers against her neck. “Faint pulse. Put in the oxygen.”
Lennox already had the mask in hand, fitting it over the woman’s face and turning on the flow. The hiss of oxygen filled the room. Color slowly returned to her lips, the rise and fall of her chest stabilizing under the mask’s rhythm.
“She’s back,” Ursula said, relief spilling out in a rush. “Pulse is steadying.”
Hunter sat back on his heels, panting, sweat slicking his temples. His arms ached, but he didn’t care. Lennox immediately grabbed the radio. “Base, patient revived after two shocks and compressions. Oxygen in place. We will transport her in.”
Brielle stared at them, awe in her wide brown eyes. “That was incredible,” she said softly. “Thank you. Both of you.”
Hunter met her gaze and felt something catch in his chest. “Just doing our job, ma’am.” His voice came out lower than usual, almost gravel. She blinked, her lips parting like she wanted to say more, but Lennox was already moving, his tone even and controlled.
“We’ll get her down safely and to the hospital. You did good calling it in.” Lennox looked over at the young boy who was now kneeling beside his grandmother, patting her hand. “What about the grandson?”
Brielle grimaced. “Charlie only has his grandmother as far as I know.”
Hunter nodded. “Then he comes, too—we’ll make sure they have a space for him in her room. Can you pack whatever he might need for a few days? By then hopefully they will know what’s going on with his nana, or at least have someone there to help him.
Brielle nodded then moved toward Charlie, getting him to help her pull some things together for him and his nana. He and Lennox moved to set up the portable stretcher and carefully lifted the woman onto it, securing her and keeping the oxygen mask in place.
In a few minutes they were all set to go with the boy hovering near Brielle, eyes wet. Hunter gave him a small nod. “She’s strong, kid. She’s gonna be okay. We’re all going to go in the ambulance with your nana, okay?”
They rolled the stretcher toward the door, the metallic clatter echoing through the hall then into the lift. Hunter turned from the inside of the elevator, his gaze locking with Brielle’s one last time. Something thrummed between them—something ancient and undeniable.
He swallowed hard, forcing a faint smile. “We’ll see you again soon.”
Brielle frowned, confusion flickering across her face. “What?”
But the doors slid shut, Lennox leaned his head back, exhaling a long breath.
“You felt it, too,” he muttered.
Hunter’s grip tightened on the rail. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “And tomorrow, we will come back here and find out what the fuck that was.”
- Series:
- /series-fated-ink/
