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Marked by Alphas - A Steamy Fated Mate MM Reverse Harem Shifter Romance

Writer's picture: Zara LeeZara Lee

Okay, confession time - I've fallen down the reverse harem rabbit hole and I'm not even sorry! There's just something about one snarky love interest surrounded by multiple gorgeous protectors that gets me every time. And that's exactly how my new series was born.


I absolutely adore writing Kai - he's all sass and wit wrapped up in a tiny package that drives his three alpha shifters crazy. And the Stone brothers? Let's just say writing Marcus (our CEO-alpha with perfect suits and commanding presence), Derek (our tactical mountain of muscle who growls more than he talks), and Caleb (our charming troublemaker with a dangerous smile) has been WAY too much fun.


Picture this: one oblivious human(ish) disaster with a mysterious past, three massive wolf shifter brothers who've been waiting years to claim him, and enough sexual tension to power the entire Pacific Northwest. Add some family secrets, small-town mysteries, and Kai's inability to stop sassing literal apex predators, and well... Cedar Grove will never be the same!


Here's a little taste of what happens when our tiny sass master ends up at Stone Manor with three very possessive wolves...



 


Marked by Alphas


RELEASE DATES

(will be available in KU)


Book 1: Marked

Releasing February 10th


Book 2: Claimed

Releasing April 25th





Three alphas. One mysterious mark. Zero chance of escape.

 

Rule #1 of surviving as a semi-functional adult: Avoid dark forests at all costs. Thanks for the childhood trauma, Mom.

 

But here I am, broke and desperate, heading to my late mother’s cottage in Cedar Grove—a town that’s basically a forest with a zip code. I thought my biggest problem would be the sketchy Wi-Fi and distinct lack of take-out options.

 

Then I met the Stone brothers. Again, apparently.

 

Three gorgeous, impossibly tall mountain men who’ve been watching me for years—not creepy at all. Marcus, the commanding CEO whose very presence makes me want to bare my throat and submit in ways I can’t explain. Derek, the ex-military bad boy whose possessive growls make me weak in places I shouldn’t mention. And Caleb, the charming youngest whose sweet smile melts my defenses right before his hungry eyes make me forget how to breathe.

 

That mysterious scar I’ve had since forever? It burns whenever they’re near. And they seem to know way too much about me.

 

Now strange men with gleaming eyes are stalking the shadows, and my instincts scream danger—except when I’m with the brothers. Something inside me knows I’m safe with them, which makes zero sense because I’ve known them for approximately five minutes.

 

Turns out Mom’s warnings about monsters in the woods weren’t paranoia after all. She just forgot to mention my protectors might be more dangerous than the things they’re protecting me from.

 

Marked by Alphas, Book 1: Marked is a MM paranormal reverse harem romance featuring:

  • A snarky protagonist

  • Three possessive, protective alpha brothers who don’t like to share (except with each other)

  • Mysterious marks and fated bonds

  • Size difference that’ll make you swoon

  • Forced proximity

  • Touch-starved tension

  •  A compound in the woods (because where else?)

  • Book 1 builds the tension with heated kisses and intense chemistry

  • Series heat level rises significantly from Book 2 onward



Teaser

When I woke up, my head was fuzzy with memories of last night’s dinner with Caleb. The early morning sun was already high, streaming through windows I hadn’t cleaned yet. Note to self: add “remove decade of dust” to the growing list of cottage maintenance nightmares, right under “figure out what that noise in the attic is” and “determine if the basement is actually haunted.”


The sound of a lawn mower jerked me fully awake. Who the hell mows the lawn at this ungodly hour?


Cedar Grove, apparently. Because normal small-town logic clearly didn’t apply here.


I dragged myself to the bathroom, deciding whoever was destroying the dewy grass could wait until after my shower. The ancient pipes groaned like tortured souls as I turned on the water, but at least it was hot. Small mercies in a cottage that seemed determined to fall apart around me.


I was in the middle of washing my hair, contemplating the strange normalcy of dinner with Caleb—and definitely not thinking about how good he looked in that leather jacket or how his eyes seemed to glow when he laughed or—nope, not thinking about it at all—when the water suddenly… stopped.


Just stopped. Mid-shampoo. Because of course it did. Because apparently, the universe had decided I hadn’t been humiliated enough this week.


“No, no, no…” I frantically twisted the handles. Nothing. Not even a sputter. The pipes just sat there, mocking me with their silence.


That’s when I heard it. Again. The lawn mower. Which had been near the back of the house. Where the water main probably was. Because why wouldn’t someone be mowing dangerously close to essential utilities?


“Son of a—” I grabbed my sad excuse for a towel. The one that was more holes than terry cloth at this point, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. And I was in the begging category of life right now. Wrapping it precariously around my waist—trying to find the least threadbare section to preserve what was left of my modesty—I stormed toward the back door, shampoo dripping into my eyes and probably taking my dignity with it.


I burst outside, ready to tell off whatever maintenance person had destroyed my water line, and stopped dead.


Holy. Fucking. Shit.


The man by my definitely not broken water main was… massive. Like, “did-you-eat-the-last-maintenance-guy” massive. All muscle and tactical gear and—wait, who does lawn maintenance in tactical gear? He looked like he’d just stepped out of some special ops calendar, all broad shoulders and rippling forearms and… Was he growling?


I blinked shampoo out of my eyes, suddenly very aware of how naked and wet I was. Droplets ran down my chest, and his eyes—a strange amber color that had to be contacts as no one had eyes that literally glowed—followed their path with an intensity that made my skin tingle. The tiny towel chose that moment to slip dangerously low on my hips.


The growling got louder. Actually got louder. Like he was some kind of… but no, that would be crazy. Crazier than everything else in this town, which was saying something.


“Um.” My voice came out embarrassingly high. “You wouldn’t happen to have destroyed my water pipe with your murder-mower, would you? Because I’ve got to say, that’s some impressive timing. Like, Olympic-level inconvenient timing. Gold medal in ‘Making Kai’s Morning Weird.’”


His eyes—seriously, they had to be contacts—dragged up my body so slowly I felt it like a physical touch. My scar tingled, which was not helping the situation. “No.”


Just that. One word. In a voice that rumbled like thunder and did inappropriate things to my insides. Great. He was hot AND monosyllabic. Because apparently, the universe wasn’t done messing with me yet.


“Oh.” I shifted, trying to keep the towel in place and probably just drawing more attention to it. “So the water stopping while you’re mowing near the water main is just…”


“Coincidence.” He growled the word. His hands flexed at his sides, and sweet baby Jesus, were those actual claws? No, definitely not. Just… very sharp… nail… things…

Note to self: Stop watching horror movies before bed. Also, maybe lay off the caffeine. And possibly seek therapy.


I took a step back. Or tried to. My wet feet had other ideas, sliding on the dewy grass, and suddenly I was falling—


Strong arms caught me before I hit the ground, and I found myself pressed against a wall of muscle. The towel, treacherous thing that it was, gave up the fight entirely. And there I was, naked as the day I was born, plastered against Cedar Grove’s answer to a military recruitment poster.


“Careful, little mate.”


My brain short-circuited. Little what now?


“I mean,” he corrected roughly but didn’t let go. If anything, his arms tightened, one hand spanning my entire lower back while the other… was definitely not moving to find the towel. “The grass is slippery.”


“Right.” I was still pressed against his chest, which was unfairly firm and radiating heat like a furnace. Shampoo ran down my face in what I’m sure was a very attractive manner. “This is… this is not how I planned my morning to go. Though honestly, at this point, I should probably just expect the unexpected. Yesterday it was lawyers, today it’s tactical landscaping. Tomorrow there’ll probably be a unicorn in my kitchen.”


Was he sniffing my hair?


“Derek Stone,” he rumbled, and yes, he was sniffing me. Because this situation needed to get weirder. “Maintenance.”


“Of course you are.” Because obviously he was a Stone. They probably had a secret cloning facility somewhere, producing unreasonably attractive men to torture my apparently gay disaster soul. “I’m—”


“Kai.” The way he said my name should be illegal. “I know.”


Well, that wasn’t ominous at all.


“Right. So…” I gestured vaguely at my very naked self, still somehow in his arms. “I should probably… clothes… those are a thing I should have.”


His chest rumbled against mine. Was he purring? No, growling. Again. Maybe he had a medical condition. A very attractive, terrifying medical condition.


“The water,” he finally managed, though his eyes hadn’t moved from where a droplet was making its way down my collarbone. “It’s the old pipes. Need replacing.”


“Okay, but like, today? Because I’m currently rocking the ‘partially shampooed disaster’ look and while I’m sure it’s very avant-garde, I’d really like to—”


“My place.”


I blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”


“Shower,” he growled out, finally releasing me but staying close enough that I could feel his body heat. “At my place. While I fix this.”


Oh, hell no. “That’s… very neighborly of you, but I don’t actually make a habit of showering at strange men’s houses. Even very large, surprisingly well-armed maintenance men.”


Something that might have been amusement flickered in those impossible eyes. “Not strange. Derek Stone.”


“Yes, because that makes it so much better. ‘Don’t worry, Mom. I’m just going to shower at the house of the tactical landscaper who knows my name and growls a lot.’ Totally normal.”


He actually smiled then, just a quick flash of white teeth that did nothing to make him less intimidating. “Marcus and Caleb will be there.”


Because that made it better? “Ah yes, the whole collection of suspiciously attractive Stone brothers. Much more reassuring.”


“You had dinner with Caleb.”


“That was different!” Though how, exactly, I wasn’t sure. “That was in public. With witnesses. And fully clothed.”


He growled again.


“Look,” I tried reasoning, “I can just… wait. Until it’s fixed. Air dry. Become one with nature.”


“Hours,” he said, and was he standing closer? “Multiple parts needed. Special order.”


“Hours?” My voice definitely didn’t squeak. “But I have shampoo in my hair! I’ll look like a deranged porcupine!”


“My. Place.”


And that’s how, ten minutes later, I ended up wrapped in Derek Stone’s jacket—which was basically a tent on me—being herded toward his ridiculous tactical Jeep.


Because apparently, my options were either embrace the porcupine lifestyle or accept the hospitality of Cedar Grove’s most intimidating family.


“This isn’t kidnapping, right?” I asked as he opened the passenger door. “Because I feel like I should point out that I’m very high-maintenance and would make a terrible hostage.”


His laugh was unexpected and rich, sending shivers down my spine that had nothing to do with being wet and mostly naked.


“No kidnapping,” he promised, then added with a gleam in his eye, “Today.”


Great. Perfect. Wonderful.


Just another normal morning in Cedar Grove.


The drive was… interesting. And by interesting, I mean terrifying in a way that somehow still managed to be hot. Derek drove like he was in a high-speed chase, one hand on the wheel, the other… well, the other kept finding reasons to adjust his jacket around me. Very thoughtful. Totally not possessive at all.


“So,” I ventured after the third time he growled at another driver for getting too close, “do you always do lawn maintenance in tactical gear, or am I just special?”


His only response was to grip the steering wheel tighter. I watched in fascination as the leather actually creaked under his hands.


“Right. Stupid question. Obviously, lawn mowing is a high-risk operation in Cedar Grove. Probably got guerrilla gardeners hiding in the bushes. Radical landscapers plotting—holy mother of—”


The words died in my throat as we turned down a private drive and Stone Manor came into view. Holy. Shit. Manor was the understatement of the century—this was a straight-up castle masquerading as a modern mansion. The structure rose from the misty forest like something out of a fantasy novel, with four massive wings sprawling out from what had to be the biggest “great room” I’d ever seen. The whole thing looked like some architect had taken a medieval fortress, a luxury resort, and a Bond villain’s lair, threw them in a blender, and somehow created something breathtaking.


Walls of windows caught the morning light like diamonds between chunks of rough-cut stone that had to be older than the United States. Modern additions blended seamlessly with ancient masonry, creating this weird time-traveling effect that shouldn’t have worked but absolutely did. And because apparently four wings weren’t enough, there was a tower rising from one side—because of course there was. The grounds around it were this perfect mix of carefully maintained gardens and wild forest, like nature itself couldn’t decide whether to be intimidated or impressed.


But as I stared at the manor, something twisted in my gut—a weird sense of déjà vu that made my scar burn. The morning sunlight suddenly seemed to shift, and for a heart-stopping moment, I saw silver moonlight instead, heard screaming, smelled smoke and blood. My hand drifted unconsciously to my hip, to that strange triangular scar that was now pulsing with warmth. Something about the layout made my head spin, like I’d seen it before, but from a different angle. Underground maybe? But that was crazy. Wasn’t it?


“You live here?” I managed weakly, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling of forgotten memories clawing at the edges of my mind. “What, was the castle from Beauty and the Beast already taken?”


Derek’s hand suddenly gripped the steering wheel tighter, and I could have sworn his eyes flickered to where my fingers still pressed against my hip. But that was impossible. Nobody knew about that scar except my mom, and she’d taken that secret to her grave.


Right?


We pulled up to what I assumed was the garage, though it looked more like an aircraft hangar. A sleek black Mercedes that screamed ‘Marcus’ sat next to what had to be Caleb’s sports car.


“The others are home.” I definitely wasn’t panicking. Much.


Derek suddenly tensed, nostrils flaring like he’d caught a scent. His eyes—still doing that weird glowing thing—darkened. “Inside. Quick.”


“O-kay?” But he was already out of the Jeep, moving to my door with that predatory grace that really shouldn’t be as attractive as it was.


Before I could process what was happening, he had me out of the car and… was he carrying me?


“I can walk!” I squeaked, clutching his jacket closer as he strode toward a side entrance.


“Slippery,” was all he said, like that explained everything about why I was being princess-carried into the Stone lair while wearing nothing but his jacket and my dignity—which was hanging by a thread at this point.


We entered through what looked like a mud room, though it was nicer than my entire apartment back in Seattle. Derek still hadn’t put me down, and I was trying very hard not to notice how easily he held me, like I weighed nothing at all.


“Derek?” a familiar voice called from somewhere in the house. Caleb. “Is that you? Why do I smell—”


He appeared in the doorway and stopped dead, eyes widening as they took in the scene. Me, practically naked except for his brother’s jacket. Derek, still carrying me and… was that a growl?


“Well.” Caleb’s mouth twitched. “This is not how I expected my morning to go.”


“Water pipes,” Derek ground out, pulling me closer.


“Ah.” Caleb’s eyes danced with barely contained laughter. “And naturally, the only solution was to bring our soaking wet mate home wrapped in your—”


“Caleb.” The warning in Derek’s voice could have stripped paint.


“Right, right.” Caleb held up his hands, but he was grinning now. “I’ll just go tell Marcus that—”


“Tell Marcus what?”


Oh God. That voice. I knew that voice.


Marcus Stone stood in the hallway like some CEO fever dream, all perfectly tailored suit and authority, until his eyes landed on me. They flashed—actually flashed—red for a moment before darkening to something that made my stomach flip.


“Kai,” he practically purred, and how did he make my name sound like that? “What an… unexpected pleasure.”


“Hi?” I managed, suddenly very aware that I was still in Derek’s arms, wearing nothing but his jacket, while being stared at by three alphas who… wait, why did I just think of them as alphas?


The air felt heavy, charged with something I couldn’t name. All three brothers were looking at me like… like…


“Shower,” Derek growled, starting forward.


“Oh yes,” Caleb’s voice was pure innocence. “He needs a shower. In fact, I could—”

Derek’s answering growl actually vibrated through my body.


“Guest bathroom,” Marcus commanded, though his eyes hadn’t left me.


“I can walk,” I tried again, but Derek just held me tighter.


“Slippery,” all three brothers said at once.


Right. Because that wasn’t weird at all.


Just another totally normal morning in Cedar Grove. Totally normal naked shower adventure with three growly, possessive, unreasonably attractive brothers who kept looking at me like…


Like I was theirs.


Oh, I was so screwed.


Possibly literally.



 

RELEASE DATES

(will be available in KU)


Book 1: Marked

Releasing February 10th


Book 2: Claimed

Releasing April 25th

copyright zara lee/alexia praks

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