The Moonstar Dating Agency Series Read online

  Copyright © 2020-2022 by Ashe Moon

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  CONTENTS

  Get M/M in Your Inbox!

  Fists, Fangs, Rival Omega

  1. Desmond

  2. Chasen

  3. Desmond

  4. Chasen

  5. Desmond

  6. Chasen

  7. Desmond

  8. Chasen

  9. Desmond

  10. Chasen

  11. Desmond

  12. Chasen

  13. Desmond

  14. Chasen

  15. Desmond

  Epilogue: Desmond

  Alpha’s Heart, Omega’s Home

  1. Grayson

  2. Barret

  3. Grayson

  4. Barret

  5. Grayson

  6. Barret

  7. Grayson

  8. Barret

  9. Grayson

  10. Barret

  11. Grayson

  12. Barret

  13. Grayson

  14. Barret

  15. Grayson

  16. Barret

  17. Grayson

  Epilogue

  Ride Hard, Alpha Daddy

  1. Alex

  2. Daniel

  3. Alex

  4. Daniel

  5. Alex

  6. Daniel

  7. Alex

  8. Daniel

  9. Alex

  10. Daniel

  11. Alex

  12. Daniel

  13. Alex

  14. Daniel

  15. Alex

  Bonus Ch1

  Bonus Ch2

  Let Me Find Your Omega

  1. Kole

  2. Markos

  3. Kole

  4. Markos

  5. Kole

  6. Markos

  7. Kole

  8. Markos

  9. Kole

  10. Markos

  11. Kole

  12. Markos

  13. Kole

  14. Markos

  15. Kole

  16. Markos

  17. Kole

  Epilogue: Kole

  Thank you for reading!

  More from Ashe Moon: Daddy From Flames

  18. Preview

  Read Daddy From Flames

  Also by Ashe Moon

  Keep in touch with Ashe

  Stay updated with sales and new releases by subscribing to Ashe Moon’s personal newsletter. Scan the QR code below with your phone camera.

  If you’re looking for something a little more personal you can also join my private Facebook group, Ashe Moon’s Ashetronauts.

  My group is a safe space to chat with me and other readers, and where I also do special exclusive giveaways and announcements. Hope to see you there!

  FISTS, FANGS, RIVAL OMEGA

  1 DESMOND

  You are my prey.

  * * *

  I repeated the mantra in my head as I stared down the alpha across the ring and the arena thundered with the sound of a thousand fevered spectators ready to see blood on the sand. I paid no attention to them, or to any other distraction. In fact, I barely even heard them. Nothing could break my focus. It was just me and my quarry in that octagonal world: three thousand square feet of battle space to lock fists, feet, paws, and jaws. I wore nothing, save for a pair of tight-fitted shorts and the blue bands hugging my biceps to make it clear to the spectators who was who.

  * * *

  The announcer's amplified voice rang out through the auditorium. "In the blue bands: the rising star, the unbreakable newcomer, the Lightning Omega, Desmoooooond Vance!"

  * * *

  The crowd's thundering roar rose to a peak, and I felt the floor vibrating beneath my bare feet as they stomped at the ground in unison.

  * * *

  "In the red bands: holder of six champion titles, the stone-paw king, Paaaaaaaaat Sharp!"

  * * *

  He broke our staring contest to turn and showboat for the crowd, swinging his arms wildly to them to cheer for him, and then kicked up sand with his feet and mashed his fist into his open palm. He’d partially shifted forms, and when he snarled at me his mouth was filled with wolf teeth. I hated that shit. It was a cheesy-ass way to try and seem more intimidating.

  * * *

  You are my prey.

  * * *

  Leaning against the arena rail behind me was the man who'd drilled every fighting mantra I knew into my subconscious. Unlike most of the other coaches, Benjamin Amberfang didn't bother shouting pointless words of encouragement at me before a match. He knew that once I was in my zone it was better to leave me there undisturbed. I could feel his presence there, and that was enough. He was my master and my mentor, and he knew me better than even my own useless parents did.

  * * *

  Across the arena, my opponent slumped against the wall to confer with his trainer, who massaged his shoulders and slapped his muscles. I curled my toes into the sand, sinking down into my ready stance. I took a long breath and felt the distinct certainty that I was going to defeat this man. No problem at all. If anyone was going to stop me from being the first omega to reach the very top ranks of the Clash of Fighters Championships, it was definitely not going to be this clown.

  * * *

  The referee guided us to the center of the arena, where we bowed to each other. My opponent continued to showboat. He came close to me, almost pressing his forehead to mine, muttering threats under his breath.

  * * *

  "I'm gonna make you my bitch, omega," he said. "I'm gonna put you right on the fucking ground."

  * * *

  I didn't even bother with a reply. Adrenaline pulsed through my veins and I felt time slow down, like the tick of a clock steadily losing its momentum. We returned to our sides. The referee was telling us to have a clean fight, and I was ready to go, anticipating the moment he threw his hand down to start the match.

  * * *

  We were off.

  * * *

  I sprinted across the sand, quickly closing the gap between us while calling out the beast that lived in the deepest regions of my subconscious being. I opened every energy channel in my mind and the wolf came forward, taking over my human body. Faster than the blink of an eye, the transformation completed. My paws hit the ground just a split second before my opponent finished shifting, and that sliver of time was everything. I had the advantage. I slammed my thick wolf skull into his chest, sending him stumbling backwards. The crowd roared in response. I was on him before he could right himself, aiming for his vitals. If I could lock him with a stalemate attack—a would-be lethal strike—it would be my instant win.

  * * *

  Sharp saw me coming and barely managed to roll out of the way, snarling with his fur bristling. He knew I was fast, but defense against my speed was another story, and he, just like so many others before him, had underestimated just how fucking fast I could be. He moved to retaliate but was caught off guard by my next attack. He leapt backwards, going on the defensive.

  * * *

  You are my prey.

  * * *

  I went in for a strike with my jaws and missed. He caught my shoulder with his fangs—a stinging blow, but hardly damaging. I rolled across the ground into a low stance, my tail sticking on end and teeth fully bared. We paced around each other. He tried going in for another attack but this time I evaded him easily. I was zeroed in with my focus. I could see every muscle contraction, every single one of his tells, and could anticipate his every move. Every time he crissed, I crossed. If he zigged, I zagged. I could tell he realized it. He knew I was one step ahead of him, and it freaked him out.

  * * *

  I could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the realization that maybe he wasn't going to be the one to put me in my place after all. That an omega really was rising through the ranks of the Clash of Fighters Championships. And that he was about to get his ass handed to him by that omega.

  * * *

  He tried to fake me out with a hop to the side, but I read his movements, flashing back to human form to dodge his all-too-easily projected attack. I sunk towards the dirt in a low pushup stance, and he pounced right over me. Then I was shifted again, and the fight was over. He didn't even have a chance to turn around to face me. I was on him, my fangs bared into his neck, right at a major pressure point—not enough to pierce his hide, just enough to cut off the blood flow to his brain.

  * * *

  He let out a strained yelp, flailed to try to get me off, and then quickly crumpled to the ground. The ref shifted into wolf form and jumped to wedge between us. I released my prey, flashing back to human form.

  * * *

  After a second, he regained groggy consciousness, grunting through clenched canines before shifting back. He looked pathetic as hell, lying there on the sand in a fetal position, glaring at me out of the corner of his eye.

  * * *

  "I hope you enjoyed that, asshole," I said so that only he could hear.

  * * *

  I leapt up, throwing my hands into the air to the explosive cheers of the audience. Benjamin vaulted over the arena wall and I ran to him and hugged him.

>   * * *

  "One more down, Desmond, one more down!" he said, grinning. "You're unstoppable, kid!"

  * * *

  The ref grabbed my wrist and tugged my arm into the air, formally declaring my victory. It didn't seem possible for the crowd to get any wilder, but there it was. They were shaking banners with "Lighting Omega Vance" printed on them. Kids had lightning bolts painted on their faces. They were cheering my name.

  * * *

  I bowed to the crowd. Bowed to the ref, and to my prey. Then I exited the arena.

  * * *

  Most fighters would take time to bask in their glory, but even though this was a win—my seventh consecutive undefeated win—it wasn't the win.

  * * *

  I wasn't at the top, yet.

  * * *

  But that title was finally within my reach. For the past three years I’d trained and battled my way up through the CFC rankings, reaching a position untouched by any omega prior to me. This was an alpha's sport, and I was determined to change that. I'd been beating the shit out of alphas since I was a kid, and I was damn good at it. It was probably the only thing I was good at.

  I sat down behind the table at the end of the arena's press conference room. The crowd of journalists bustled, waiting with their cameras and microphones at the ready. Their chatter died down at my arrival, and Benjamin tapped on the end of a microphone and handed it to me.

  * * *

  "Evening, everybody," I said, and nodded to the line of people waiting to ask me questions.

  * * *

  Eddie Lang, a rep from Fighters Report magazine, was first in line. He was one out of the crowd of faces I'd become very familiar with seeing over the past few years. A familiar stranger, who I only really ever saw them for brief moments before and after fights. That was pretty much my life; going through this rotating crowd of people I hardly knew, always meeting new people but never really knowing them.

  * * *

  "Congratulations on another win."

  * * *

  "Thanks, Eddie," I said.

  * * *

  He was holding a piece of paper, a printout of the stats from the fight, and he tapped it with his hand. "I think you might've broken your personal record for fastest knock-out, tonight. You go any faster, and there won't be a fight to watch."

  * * *

  The audience laughed. I smiled.

  * * *

  "It's been well documented what kinds of things Mr. Sharp had been saying prior to the fight,” Eddie said. “Did this have any bearing on your performance tonight? Did you have something to prove?"

  * * *

  "Eddie, I'm an omega in the CFC. I'm always going to have something to prove." Another laugh from the crowd. "But, to answer your question: Sure. I've got no problem showing these guys what omegas are really capable of, and if you're going to run your mouth then you'd better be ready to back up your words. Because I sure as hell can back mine."

  * * *

  A woman I recognized but whose name I didn't know took the microphone next. "There certainly isn't any doubt about that. With this win, presumably a matchup with the number one fighter in the world, Chasen Broadcote, would be on the horizon. What do you have to say about his most recent comments?"

  * * *

  I frowned, not sure what she was talking about. I stole a quick glance at Benjamin, but he motioned that he didn't know either.

  * * *

  "What comments?" I asked.

  * * *

  "Oh. Well, they were made a few hours ago, before your fight started. He said... Just a moment." She took out her phone and tapped at the screen. "He said, 'Desmond Vance is a very talented fighter with a lot of luck. But I believe that's all it is. I've watched all his fights, and I believe his training is lacking. I could defeat him." She cleared her throat, looking up from her phone. "That's what he said today."

  * * *

  I felt an angry heat bubbling up inside of me, which I fought to control and keep from showing on my face. I knew the interview was being broadcast live on the Net, but fuck, I wanted so badly just to let all out. I could picture him saying, all nonchalant with that shit-eating grin of his. Chasen Broadcote was the complete opposite of me and everything I knew. He'd been given the best training his entire life, always in the lap of luxury, coddled like a little fucking baby. His dad was Syrus Broadcote, a near-legendary fighter in his day, and their family was incredibly wealthy.

  * * *

  It pissed me the fuck off that Chasen was talking shit about my training. He could talk as much about me as he wanted, but to insult my training was to insult my mentor, and that I just couldn't stand for.

  * * *

  I took a sip from the bottle of water on the table. "What do I have to say about that? I think that Chasen Broadcote is a spoiled rich brat and just another shit talker who needs to put their money where their mouth is. So, to him I say, wherever, whenever." The more I spoke, the less control I had over my words and my temper. I shifted in the chair. "Fuck it, man. Find me in the streets. I'll take you on, we don't need an arena."

  * * *

  Before I knew it, Benjamin was beside me, whispering at me to calm down. I realized that I'd been shouting in the microphone. The crowd murmured and stared back at me with their cameras recording away.

  * * *

  "Thanks for your questions," I said, and dropped the mic on the table with a loud thunk.

  Benjamin pulled the car up to the front of my apartment block. I grabbed the bag of groceries from the back seat and went around to grab my duffle bag from the trunk. Benjamin stuck his head out of the window.

  * * *

  "You gonna be alright?"

  * * *

  "Yeah, why?"

  * * *

  He shrugged. "I dunno. Look, don't let Chasen Broadcote get to you, alright? I don't care about what he or his old man has to say about me, and neither should you."