Kym Grosso - Tristan's Lyceum Wolves

The characters, locations and events portrayed in this book are a work of fiction or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

This is an adult erotic paranormal romance book with love scenes and mature situations. It is only intended for adult readers over the age of 18.

For the love of my life, Keith.

You inspire me to write romance that speaks to true love, and of course, sexy love scenes that steam up the pages. No one could ask for a more supportive husband.

I am so lucky to be your wife and partner.

I am very thankful to everyone who helped me create this book:

~My husband, for encouraging me to write, editing my articles and supporting me in everything I do.

~My children, for being so patient with me, while I spend time working on the book. You are the best kids ever!

~Julie Roberts, editor, who spent hours reading, editing and proofreading Tristan’s Lyceum Wolves. I really could not have done this without you!

~Carrie Spencer, CheekyCovers, who helped me to create Tristan’s sexy cover.

~My beta readers, Stephanie, Liz, Nadine, Katrina, Elizabeth and Sharon, for volunteering to beta read the novel and provide me with valuable feedback.

~My street team, for helping spread the word about the Immortals of New Orleans series

Tristan smoothed the sleeves of his tux and straightened his tie. His platinum locks had turned a darker shade of blonde after the accident. Yearning for the warmth of the sun, there’d be plenty of time to run wolf later. Right now, he had other plans; tearing the city apart brick by brick in order to find the asshole who’d torched his club.

A mixture of anger and excitement simmered like a raging fire underneath the cool exterior of his Alpha façade. Not only had he survived the building’s collapse, he’d orchestrated the unthinkable, a new club opening within a week. Tonight, he’d publicly demonstrate his steel resolve to the hundreds of patrons eagerly anticipating the grand opening. His team of warriors, trusted comrades, would seek retaliation for the destruction of his property and attack on his sister, Katrina. Whoever had sought to attack his family was in for a day of reckoning, as he was already strategizing in preparation for the battle.

The heavy pounding of a techno beat reverberated throughout his private office, reminding him that he needed to go upstairs to greet his guests. The new club was on the penthouse level, fifty stories into the troposphere. Customers, subjected to heavy security on the ground level, took express elevators that emerged to a spectacular indoor twenty foot, cascading waterfall which flowed into a limestone-encompassed Koi pond. Stunning crystal chandeliers and spectacular black marble floors presented an understated sense of elegance.

The main club, encased in floor to ceiling glass, gave way to a breathtaking, three hundred and sixty degree, panoramic view of Philadelphia. A large spiral mahogany staircase led to a magnificent rooftop deck, which opened to the warm September breeze. Landscaping adorned with tiny white lights, presented patrons with a romantic ambiance in contrast to the pounding club scene below.

Private luxury rooms, located below the main floor, allowed vampires and supernaturals alike, the privacy they sought for feeding and sexual escapades. State of the art video feeds fed into a central security station. Every corner and crevice of the club, including bathrooms, was meticulously monitored for suspicious activity by a team of experts.

Tristan hadn’t had to rebuild the club; his real estate investments were both lucrative and substantial, but the club was popular with supernaturals and humans alike. While wolves and witches were welcome, it was the vampires who enjoyed the greatest benefit; easily finding willing donors to satiate their thirst without relying on bottled blood. Humans, on the other hand, often sought to indulge in an orgasmic feeding experience or simply enjoyed walking on the wild side, delighting in the paranormal conversation and sexual ambiance. It was a synergistic relationship, one that he intended to continue to cultivate.

A new beginning, Tristan thought, as he curled his hand around the cold brass doorknob. This was his city, his territory. Outsiders were already painfully aware of his presence, as he’d placed a moratorium on any new wolves from entering his territory. If found trespassing, they’d be killed without a blink of an eye. There were times when Tristan overtly exerted his dominance, reminding all those around him exactly why he was Lyceum Wolves’ Alpha. And so it began. Letting his power flow out toward his wolves, alerting them to his presence, he advanced toward the partygoers. After a brief appearance at the opening gala, he’d meet with his advisors, then retribution would commence.

As the private elevator door opened, Tristan smiled confidently at his guests. Urbane and handsome, he nonchalantly strode into the room, commanding the attention of every male and female. He waved to Logan, his beta, who was chatting up a sultry redhead at the bar. Spotting Marcel, his brother, the New Orleans’ Alpha, he crossed the dance floor. Tristan embraced his older brother in a sturdy hug, enough to hurt most men.

“Hey, why didn’t you come up to the office?” Tristan questioned.

“What can I say, Bro? There are some mighty fine women down here who required my undivided attention. Nice job with the new club by the way.” Marcel looked casually around the club. Calvin, his beta, sat at the bar, carefully observing the interaction.

“Always the ladies’ man,” Tristan joked. “Sorry, but tonight is all about business. When I finish my speech, we’re meeting in the conference room. Logan and the others are aware of the schedule.” He patted his brother on the back.

“Sounds good. See you in a few. Good luck,” Marcel added, knowing his younger brother fully enjoyed the attention of speaking in front of a crowd.

Tristan smiled back at his brother as he made his way through the crowd toward the stage. The sea of patrons on the dance floor parted as he made his way toward the microphone, uber-aware the good looking Alpha was in close proximity to their gyrating bodies. Women strained to catch a glimpse of the sexy Alpha, demurely curtsying while showing off their cleavage. Males bowed their heads in respect, clearing a wide breadth for the lethal wolf.

The striking Alpha was the picture of exemplary health and strength; not a scratch or scrape gave a hint that a building had collapsed on him less than a week ago. As he strode through the crowd, he silently acknowledged pack members. His dominant aura permeated the room. The band stopped playing. All talking ceased. Suave and cocksure, he grabbed a glass of champagne off a tray held by a passing waiter, and walked up onto the stage, commanding the attention of the entire room.

“Welcome to Noir, mes amis!” Tristan cheerfully announced to his guests as he took the microphone. “I am pleased to have all of you here tonight to celebrate the grand opening of Philadelphia’s premier nightclub.” A cool smile broke across his face as he raised a hand to quell the surge of applause. “Yes, yes, I know. It is quite impressive. I’d like to thank Logan for assisting me in this spectacular accomplishment. Please be sure to check out the magnificent views of the skyline from our rooftop bar.”