He was the Prince who wanted to be free. She was a thief. They both lived in a city of ruins and rebirth of a long ago civilization that got destroyed by pettiness and power-hungry men. In the shadows of history doomed to repeat itself, the street rat and the prince must band together to save what little world they have left, before the sands of time run out. **Excerpt** She yelped in shock, completely unprepared for him to be kissing her. His lips were warm and soft against hers and although he was holding her face he wasn't hurting her, just holding her. His kiss was filled with a burning passion, leaving them stumbling until Jaz hit a wall. His hands traveled down her body, settling on her hips and he pulled her closer. Jaz was out of breath as her hands involuntarily ran down his perfectly sculpted chest. This is wrong, a voice whispered in her head. Then why am I still kissing him? She felt her body reacting to his touch, reaching for him, pulling him towards her as much as he was for her. One of his hands traced back up her bare waist and tangled his fingers in her hair while his other hand roamed to her back, tracing the hem of her pants while his hand ran back and forth over her lower back. She felt the feeling in her stomach grow white hot and burn inside her leaving no room for rational thought. She wrapped her arms around his chest, fingers tracing the scars on his back. Her fingers were light as the ran up and down his spine. A deep, low noise came from his chest and he pulled on her lip, opening her mouth to deepen their kiss. She moved her hands up to his face, palms running over the stubble he hadn't yet shaven, and reaching up to mess up his hair. It was so soft between her fingers. Her eyes opened as his mouth trailed to the curve of her jaw and neck, his hand moving from her hair to hold the side of her neck, his thumb resting at the curve of her collarbone. This has gone too far, she thought.

-- Life works in mysterious ways. King Patterson never really thought about life in depth. He did not care much for his future. He did not plan. There was no use. He would be six feet under today, tomorrow or the day after that. He took each day as it came, but never took them seriously. That was until fate took him down a completely different route. After crossing paths with someone who paves a way for him to finally find purpose in life...a goal...a final destination that he can work towards, King pulls himself out of one world and falls blindly into another. A world that has A'ishah in it. And she, alone, was enough to make his newly discovered world absolutely perfect. --

Copyrighted 2017 *Completed* Highest rankings: #6 in Werewolf #1 in Wolves #3 in Featured He was said to be powerful, the most powerful of them all. A king of kings- a dark king. Complete control. He needed it- thrived on it. He was power, he was dark, and he was beautiful. They say he was a descendant of the first wolves- of shapeshifters so fierce they could kill with barely a glance. He was respected, revered. Feared. The King of the North. And we were the idiots sneaking into his territory. *Not your typical werewolf book* --please reframe from hateful comments directed at me or other readers who enjoy the story. *This book has no sexually mature scenes and is PG-13* *This book has nothing to do with The Game of Thrones, and is not a fanfic of any kind*