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.