Wyvern Protection Unit - Chapter 76: Chapter 76

Hatched in a science lab after three hundred years of waiting, these four Wyvern eggs had changed hands many times over the centuries.
After finally being discovered by the U.S. government, sitting uncatalogued on a museum shelf, General Arthur Wessex took the hatchlings and raised the brothers as his own.
Referred to as the brothers Wessex, these four Wyvern Shifters, the first of their kind, were named for the unique coloring of each of their eggs.
Jasper after his opaque yellow and black marble-like egg. Heliodore after his crystal-like yellow egg. Larimar after his pale green egg. And finally, Zircon, after his light-blue pellucid egg.
Whether man or beast, each retains hints of that color in their eyes, and sometimes, in their creatures’ scales as well.
At the hands of their adoptive father, the brothers learned combat, stealth, and above all, honor. Together they are an elite, and secret, force working for the federal government.
The is the only one of its kind. They have sworn a duty to protect and serve wherever they are needed.
Creed
With honor and faith, we vow to keep safe those in our charge. Our lives for theirs, until our bodies turn to ash and our fire runs cold.
Unexpected Protector
Can East meet West in this comedic tale of romance, mishaps, and a Demon in love with a Christmas Elf?
Medjed, warrior of Osiris, half-God, Demon soldier, and rocker of the coolest hieroglyph ever—if his new blood brothers’ mates were to be believed—has been unleashed on the modern world!
Walking the Earth without purpose spells trouble for Medjed and his newfound friends in the . The answer to this problem? Send the Ancient Egyptian deity to the North Pole! His mission was simple. Just do a little recon for his new bosses far away from the WPU base.
What could go wrong?
Turns out, a couple of things, actually. Like getting stuck in a blizzard with a snarky female, who turns out to be a Christmas Elf named Candy Kane. Medjed doesn’t understand the sudden pull towards the strangely garbed woman, but everything in him demands he claim her as his own.
It’s a holiday tale like no other with an appearance from the big guy himself—that’s right, Santa Claus. Only, the Egyptian demigod takes issue with some of Santa’s more nefarious practices.
Seriously, what was up with the whole “he sees you when you're sleeping” thing, anyway?
But back to the story—will Medjed claim his mate before midnight on Christmas Eve or will she disappear until Santa’s magical village returns for the holidays next year?
Prologue
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Jennifer Dylluan scrubbed her face with her hands, and yes, she might’ve screamed aloud while doing so. The sound was more screech than scream, come to think of it, probably because of the enormous, ornery, and extremely orotund owl resting inside the otherwise completely agreeable female.
“What the fuck, Medjed!” she snapped, but he had no reply.
The female had called for him moments ago, but even as he stood there waiting for her to look at him once more, she seemed displeased. Her voice still echoed through the halls.
It was, of course, his name. As the most recent member of the , the only non-Wyvern to join, in fact, Medjed had wondered when he would be called to duty.
“I swear to Christ, man, you are the bane of my existence,” she muttered, shaking her head. “And really, that is saying something, considering I’m the liaison between the DPCA and the four worst mannered Shifters on the entire fucking planet!”
The DPCA he knew was the acronym for the Department of Paranormal Creatures and Activity, and those four Shifters who she claimed were always giving her a headache, were his new blood brothers. Jasper, Larimar, Heliodore, and Zircon Wessex of the .
But nothing could make him understand why their liaison, Ms. Jennifer Dylluan was calling for him one minute then proclaiming him top on her menace to society list, which was apparently a thing one did not wish to be on.
“I, Warrior of the House of Osiris, Sword of the Underworld, Deliverer for the God of the Dead, Punisher of the Unworthy, Demigod, and Hero, worshipped by hundreds of thousands in the Ancient World—me, I, Medjed, am here as you have bid me, Jennifer Dylluan.” He finished with a low bow before returning to his full height, which was an impressive six and a half feet.
Debates over whether he was a Demon, or a minor God, had run rampant in the secret government office where they worked, so Medjed often took it upon himself to use as many of his titles as he could remember. But Jennifer did not seem capable of caring less. He frowned, furrowing his eyebrows as the female heaved a great sigh.
“I cannot go on like this. Not when other assignments are demanding my attention,” she murmured, eyes cast at the ceiling.
Medjed frowned thoughtfully. Jennifer was so stressed. Her animal, too. That was not good for a female. Especially not one who was a vital part of his new work and family of his heart.
It was clear what the problem was. Jennifer Dylluan needed a mate. Medjed was willing to ease any physical aches she might have, but he wondered if perhaps one of his new Wyvern blood brothers would not be better suited. In fact, there was one particular brother who was likely the reason the poor female was having fits.
“Ohmyfuckinggawd! He is still standing there like that,” she mumbled to herself, shaking with emotion.
Medjed frowned. The female was worrying him. The Great-horned Owl inside of her growled unhappily as her gaze flitted back to the pile of paperwork on her desk.
“My fault, right? I mean, I called in the naked ass mofo, and you know what they say, speak of the devil and he will appear,” she growled some more, taking a bottle out of her bottom drawer.
Medjed sneezed when she started spraying the floral perfume. It was simply too much for his sensitive olfactory senses.
“Naked as a jaybird. Smelling like a damned cinnamon bun. Leaving a trail of fucking sand everywhere,” she muttered, moving to the closet to retrieve a broom.
He wisely remained mute. Yes, Medjed had arrived in his usual golden splendor via sand cloud that gave way to his impressive form. It was how he always traveled.
He waited while Jennifer swept, sprayed, and cursed him out to her heart’s content. He would never engage a female in battle, lest she try to maim him, at which point he would evade attack. Never would he raise a hand with harmful intent to the fairer sex.
“And this, really, this is how you sign things,” she snapped, bringing his attention to his signature on some forms she had sent him.
“It is my signature, Jennifer Dylluan.”
“It is a dildo, Medjed. A fucking dildo!”
“It is not this thing. It is my hieroglyph,” he growled, trying to hold his temper.
Yes, his hieroglyph had caused some amusement amongst his new people. And after he’d been shown modern mechanical phalluses, he had to agree. It was shaped rather like a, well, like a dildo with eyes and feet.
It was the shape of the thing, long and conical in form, that apparently caused so much merriment. The fact he did carry a rather spectacular package was not lost on him. He was rather splendidly formed.
Not that Jennifer had ever mentioned interest, though he would admit she had looked twice. Totally understandable. Medjed was not ashamed of his body.
“For the love of fuck, put on some damned clothes!” she snapped, trying her best not to stare at the currently flaccid and yet still enormous phallus that hung between his thighs.
“And that thing is why your hieroglyph resembles a fucking dildo,” she muttered rudely.
“Sorry, great amoula. I had no time to dress. I was in the divine washing basin you call a bathtub,” he explained.
She narrowed her eyes, and he waved his hand, clothing himself in a very short, royal blue, velour robe.
“I told you a million times, Medjed. We wear clothes here. When I call you, dress first, then sandman your way in,” she grumbled and shuffled through paperwork.
“I will do as you say, amoula. Now, why have you called on me? What can I help with today?”
He smiled, calling her the Egyptian word for owl as a sign of respect for both her creature and her wisdom. She had told him once she thought it sounded pretty, so he deemed it appropriate to continue using the pet name.
Jennifer groaned aloud and banged her head on the desk. The amoula was distressed.
“What am I going to do with you, you maniac? Help? He wants to help! You want to help?”
“Of course,” he said, staring at her warily.
“Of course? Did you say of course?”
“Um, Jennifer⁠—”
“Help. You want to help. Is that what you were doing when you conjured a sandstorm to swallow a local fast food dive when the owner refused to cook the deer you brought him? Hmm? Were you helping then?” she shouted.
“He was being obtuse, and it was a fresh kill. I did not desire to imbibe the frozen fat filled mystery meat he called a pa-tty,” he explained as if this was perfectly reasonable.
“I see and were you helping when you kidnapped a woman on her wedding day and took her to a hotel in Atlantic City where you then engaged in sexual activities for three days before either of you came up for air?” she continued, her voice growing higher in both pitch and volume.
“The woman did not wish to be married. She confessed it to me the night before at her bach-elore-ette party. I merely did as she asked and showed her true physical pleasure before she tied herself to the short and stout dentist, she was binding herself to for eternity. Three days was her decision, I could’ve stayed in bed for weeks living on nothing but the taste of her pleasure,” he grinned wickedly, and Jennifer did not bother to stifle her groan.
“What is it? Did I do something wrong?”
“Medjed, you are completely maddening. Wait, did you say you could live on a woman’s pleasure for weeks?”
“Weeks,” he repeated, noting the curious glint in her eyes.
Truthfully, if she were free, if her heart had not belonged to another as he suspected it did, perhaps he might show her it was no challenge at all. Alas, Jennifer Dylluan was not his.
A week of purely carnal, sexual bliss always sounded great to Medjed. but his heart would not be in it. Truth was, he’d been feeling rather restless lately.
Ever since Jasper's mate, Carolina, had freed him from the tablet where he had been confined, Medjed felt the emptiness inside of him growing. The beast that was loneliness refused to let him be.
He did not even want to entertain the notion of what he feared he must do. But it was weighing on him, heavy at that.
Jennifer was lucky. Her heart was already taken, even if the man in question was unaware. But for Medjed, he had no notion where to find his fated one.
Do not go there, he told himself.
It was too dark and dangerous a tunnel to travel. Especially now when he had a duty to attend.
“So, have we cleared everything up, amoula? I wish to go back to my tub and to finish watching the moving pictures Kimberley Wessex has shown me on the Hall-march channel. She called them holly-day moo-vees, I believe.”
“You are watching the Holiday Movie Marathon on the Hallmark Channel?” she asked, gaping at him.
“Yes. I find it fascinating. Except, well, this San Ta Claws devil seems like the worst kind of villain, Jennifer. Surely, he is being investigated by your offices,” Medjed stated, moving where he could make his exit free and clear of furniture. Traveling by sand did cause a bit of a mess, he admitted sheepishly.
“No,” she yelled, stopping him in his tracks, “I have a new assignment for you.”
“Yes,” he said expectantly.
“But first, why do you think Santa is a devil?” she asked, clearly allowing her curiosity to get the better of her.
“It is obvious,” Medjed stated, unbelieving she would even need to ask. “San Ta Claws is a burglar and a madman. Who else would spy on innocents and threaten them with naughty lists and coal? So, is that my assignment?” he asked with glee.
“Is what your assignment?”
“Am I to track down and destroy that monster of monsters, the San Ta Claws himself?” he asked.
“No! God no,” she said. “But speaking of the North Pole, do you own a coat?” Jennifer smirked.