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Wanting to Belong

by Lisa Oliver

 

Hephaestus, ancient Greek God of fire, metallurgy, and volcanoes, had lived a quiet life on earth, with the three cyclops his only companions. It was a lonely life, especially for one who'd never felt as though he belonged with his kin, but Hephaestus believed he was content. Until one afternoon, when he got blinded by a light, and right before his eyes, the one the Fates intended for him was sprawled on the road, all thanks to his inattention. Finding out later the little shifter was homeless, all compounded the guilt he was feeling.

Landyn, a small Black Footed Ferret shifter, hadn't stopped running for two years. Every time he felt he'd found somewhere safe, a voice from the past would jump out at him and remind him all over again that safety was an illusion. Having lost the use of his bike after a random car accident, Landyn was on the point of giving up on life. He had no food, nowhere to stay, and no energy left to run. When a random man finds him at the bridge he'd been sheltering under, he truly thought his life was done.

But the Fates love it when two misfits find each other, and Landyn and Hephaestus find a connection, even when the only thing they have in common is the fact they believe their mate would be better off with someone else. Unfortunately, there are others who are not as happy with their mating, and they'll do anything to split the two apart. Can Hephaestus and Landyn overcome the odds, or will their dreams of belonging disappear into the flames of Hephaestus's forge?

Featuring a cute ferret determined to see the best in life, a grumpy artist with a secret heart of gold, cameo appearances from some of the gods you've read about in other books in this series, and giants. This story can be read as a standalone.

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Excerpt:

“Is this about that little car incident last week, sire? Are you still upset you didn’t see that tiny shifter?”

“Didn’t see him?” Hephaestus bit back his words that threatened to spew from his throat. Inhaling deeply he said in a calmer tone, “The mortal could’ve been badly hurt or even killed. What was worse was I couldn’t get out of the car fast enough to ensure he was all right.”

“You didn’t have to because I did it,” Bronte said. “I picked him up and dusted him off. Yes, his bicycle was a bit battered, but it looked like it was still functional. He could push it. It was him that said he didn’t want to involve the authorities. He wouldn’t even take the hundred-dollar note I tried to give him for any repairs the bicycle needed. I ended up stuffing it in his jacket pocket just before he disappeared. But he moved away fast enough. He didn’t appear to be in any pain.”

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Putting his head on the counter, Hephaestus groaned before lifting his head again. “You didn’t stop to think that he might have disappeared purely and simply because he was being loomed over by a giant in a muscle shirt? Or that he might’ve been intimidated by the other two equally large loons, leaning out of the car windows yelling at you to hurry up because your damn pizza was getting cold?”

“Well, it was.” Bronte looked at his brothers for support. “I don’t know how mortals can handle cold pizza. It really doesn’t taste the same once it’s lost that freshly cooked heat, even if you reheat it. The fat from the cheese congeals in the wrong places and the crust never tastes the same.”

“You could’ve at least taken the time to get the shifter’s address, so we could have done a welfare check on him.”

“Sire, I don’t believe the little shifter was hurt,” Arges said, always trying to be the voice of reason. “The car bumper barely hit his wheel, and…”

“He went sprawling face first into traffic.” Hephaestus thumped the counter with his fists. He didn’t think he’d ever forget that sight for the rest of his eternal existence. And to know he caused it…

“I saw him, or should I say, I caught a glimpse of him two nights ago. I’m fairly sure it was him,” Steropes said. “Remember, Arges, when we were walking back from that club we were at that night? Bronte got lucky and we thought we’d take a walk down by the lake. I’m sure I saw that little shifter then. If it was him, he was huddled under that little overpass, the one by that building – you know…”

“Oh, yes,” Arges said. “I know where you mean. That place they call a beach but it’s a lake with sand on the edge of it. Near to where the boats are. 31st Street Beach, I think – somewhere like that. There was a bit of a park with some trees, and that grass area. Anyhow, it looked like he was planning to sleep there. Not sure how comfortable it would be, but there you go.”

Hephaestus’s blood went cold. “The shifter I hit with the car was homeless? You didn’t think to tell me?”

“That was hardly your fault,” Bronte protested. “Chances are he was already homeless when the car nudged his bicycle. We’re not allowed to interfere in mortal affairs, remember? If he was someone special, and the gods knew about him, they would send in someone to help him out.”

“Yeah, Zeus and Hades do that all the time,” Steropes agreed. “They have that wolf shifter, and that demon fella…”

Hephaestus hung his head, filled with guilt as he remembered the last three messages he had from Zeus, all within the last week. He knew damned well his arrogant father wouldn’t be sending anyone to help the shifter, because in Zeus’s eyes the person who was meant to help him was already in town. And if I let my insecurities get in the way of helping him…

 

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About the Author

Lisa Oliver's first fiction book was The Reluctant Wolf, book one in the Cloverleah series. Since then she's written more than ninety other titles spanning a number of different series including Bound and Bonded, Stockton Wolves, Balance, The God's Made Me Do it, City Dragons, The Necromancer's Smile, and the Alpha and Omega series. A huge fan of the true mate trope, Lisa's books are all paranormal, all M/M (although a few M/M/M have crept in too) and all have an HEA.

When not writing, Lisa can be found with her nose in a book. Her adult children and grandchildren have found the best way to get her off the computer is to offer her chocolate.