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The Sovereignty of Wolves Series (Book 1: The Purple Wolf Goddess)

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adventure
spy/agent
stalker
alpha
love-triangle
possessive
sex
polyamory
reincarnation/transmigration
mate
powerful
warrior
fairy
humorous
bold
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Blurb

Sophie isn’t your typical Miami girl. Yes, she’s beautiful. Yes, she likes to party. But she lives a double life. A wolf named Ilaria—that only Sophie can see—has been her lifelong companion and friend. But a year ago, their relationship changed.

Now, the two of them can merge, turning Sophie’s eyes purple and giving her amazing abilities. She leverages these abilities by accepting illegal gigs under her profile name, GigGoddess. Anonymous online sources hire her to spy on and steal from supernatural beings. What Sophie doesn’t know is that she has upset some dangerous characters by taking these gigs. The story begins at a Miami Beach club on an October night.

A dubious trap has been set for the GigGoddess by a beast of a man who waits for her in the dark. Can Sophie survive? Dark secrets, adventure, love, and passion all clash in book one.

The Sovereignty of Wolves Series (Book 1: The Purple Wolf Goddess) is created by Desmond Vargas, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

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Chapter 1: Club Tropic
Seth & Gibraltr Club Tropic, Miami Beach - 10 PM Leaning out over the table, the hostess pulled the cord to the hanging lamp, illuminating the luxurious VIP table. It illuminated her too, which Seth appreciated even more. Bent over the table as she was, her tight black skirt climbed dangerously up the back of her thighs. “Thank you," he said in his deep rumbling voice. Still leaning over the table, permitting him a lasting look, she flirtatiously turned her head to acknowledge him. “You're welcome," she replied, her voice muffled by the noise of the club. She stood slowly, turning toward Seth. “Your server will be with you shortly," she said. Before departing, she took an extra moment to admire Seth as well. At 6'6, there was plenty for her to look at. He smiled back at her. After she walked away, he evaluated the table closer. A rectangular brown lacquered table sat in the center, surrounded by a red plush wraparound bench. Scenic pictures of the beach, palm trees, and partially nude women adorned the walls. Preferring darkness, Seth pulled the lamp's cord again as he slid into the booth. He moved to the far end, and draped his long arms over the back of the soft bench. Stretching his back a little, he settled in for what should be a very interesting evening. He couldn't see the main floor of the club from here. But if it meant he could stay inconspicuous while still having a good time, that was fine with him. Anyways, with his keen senses, he had other ways of monitoring the night's events. Still early, the club was fairly empty. But Tuesdays were a signature night for Club Tropic, so it would fill up after a while. And despite the second floor balcony being entirely deserted, he had asked for a table up here anyways. For his plan to work, he needed the seclusion. Lined by an intricate wrought-iron railing, the second floor balcony wrapped around the entire edge of the spacious club. Looking out, he thought the red velvet drapes decorating the alcove table's entryway were a nice touch. Large amber colored eyes suddenly materialized high above the other end of the table. Gazing down at Seth, the head of a massive wolf formed around them. Then Gibraltr leapt up onto the padded bench to sit on Seth's right. Turning to face out, the wolf shouldn't have fit. But somehow he did. The wolf's strange amber colored hair matched Seth's exactly. Their amber colored eyes matched too. And while Seth and the wolf's movements were independent, they seemed to mimic one another. Another beautiful woman stepped into view then, his server. Miami Beach is full of the most beautiful women in the world, Seth decided. He ordered a bottle of bourbon. 'We are on duty!' Gibraltr conveyed mentally to Seth. Seth stared daggers at the beast. After the waiter left, he said in a low mocking voice, “We are on duuuuuty!" Seth slammed his fist down on the table. “Loosen up!" he yelled. The massive wolf didn't flinch or react in any way to Seth's mockery, yelling, or fist slamming. Gibratlr simply turned his head to give Seth a penetrating look. Seth could feel their lines blurring as he stared back at Gibraltr. Seth immediately began to fight against the shift. “Stop it!" Seth growled. Both of their eyes flared brightly before he was able to force the wolf away. “We are not doing that right now! This is my time!" Gibraltr gave up and returned to watch over the club. Seth checked his collar and straightened his shirt. After a light shake of the head, he settled back again, assessing the layout of the club. To his left, positioned by the club's lower floor entrance, a long half oval bar stretched out nearly to the edge of the large dance floor. Set on a raised platform on the other side of the dance floor, to his right, was the main VIP seating. The main floor's bathrooms were directly beneath where he currently sat. Club Tropic was a contemporary establishment full of fun Miami flare. Transparent winding walkways bridged the dance floor, connecting the bar to the VIP section. Servers walked back and forth on the walkways holding trays full of bottles, glasses, and cocktails. Sporadically throughout the club, tall clear poles stretched from the floor to the high ceiling. Inside the poles, colored lights pulsed to the beat of the music. And high above, putting on acrobatic displays, women dressed in revealing white lingerie spun and turned on the poles. The second floor balcony wrapped around the outer edge of the club. Like his own booth, the balcony was full of alcoved VIP tables. On the opposite side of the balcony, directly ahead of Seth, the DJ spun his beats. Exits were positioned on either end of both floors of the club. The smells filling the club were an overwhelming cacophony of distaste to Seth's senses. In particular, the smell of synthetic drugs disgusted him. He could smell alcohol, makeup, and some sort of deodorizing mist the club continuously pumped into the huge room. There were 127 people inside the establishment at that moment—48 women, 79 men. On a Tuesday at 10 PM, that wasn't too shabby. Miami Beach was a party town seven days a week. There were four firearms too—three behind the bar, and one being concealed by a large bouncer at the front door. He could even pick out the rats living inside the walls of the old building. Seth turned his attention to the imp sitting opposite him in the corner of the lower floor VIP section. He didn't like working with the little devils. They were sleazy creatures. But in Seth's opinion for his plan to work, it was the best option. The imp appeared human at the moment. As long as it stayed that way and just sat there, everything would work out well. Seth had to shake his head at the absurdity of it. How the world has changed, he thought. Hunting down illicit contractors used to be a much simpler job. Not long ago, the few syndicates that distributed contracts were fairly easy to follow. Now, the wardens had to monitor social media, contract sites, and cryptocurrency transactions to discover these petty thieves and murderers. Contractors had more ways to cover their tracks and conceal their identities than ever before. But secrecy remained critical to maintaining the sovereignty of the wolves. So, wardens like Seth were sent to ensure these contracts didn't get messy enough to catch headlines. However, as of now, everyone else in the club was completely human. He sensed no other presence that would even know what an imp was, let alone dare try and spy on it. While the small devil wasn't the most formidable of creatures, a human would never stand a chance against it. The bottle of bourbon arrived. Seth smiled as the waitress poured him a glass. No. Seth would know when this GigGoddess showed up. When he, she, or it arrived, he'd take them into custody. Job done. SImple. For now, he sat back sipping the bourbon that had arrived. There was lots of eye candy and fun to be had here. It's not like I'm sent to Miami Beach very often, he thought. The trap was set. He was ready. Gibraltr glanced skeptically at him.

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