Her Alphas (2 page)

The earliest entries were made in elegant script, dotted
with splotches of ink as if written with a quill. Others were in pencil and
ballpoint. The most recent were from her grandfather. She recognized his small,
neat printing in the blue felt-tip he favored. Gwen had received countless
birthday cards and letters from John Chaney and the sight of his handwriting
always made her miss him.

Since discovering the journal, Gwen had pored over the
pages, trying to make sense of her strange predicament. Some entries were
devoted to what pack elders called ”the mystery”. They believed that though
werewolves came from every walk of life, they were not chosen at random. The
Moon People tradition taught that the moment man and beast met was preordained.
Neither could foresee it. Neither could control it. Neither was to blame.

There were instructions on how to calm the newly bitten and
what to feed them in preparation for the physical demands of the changes they
would endure—lots of high-fat protein and plenty of water. There was a crude
map to the hidden cave and a faded drawing of the amulet the consort was to
wear while on duty. Several of the entries stressed the importance of staying
away from the cell bars, well out of the werewolves’ reach.

There were plenty of instructions on what to do and what not
to do, but no insight regarding why. When Gwen had told Alex that, he’d sat her
down to explain.

“Keeping humans safe is one reason for locking up the
fledglings, but that’s only part of the equation, Gwen. You’re also keeping the
new werewolves safe from us. Our behavior is complicated and instinctive. We’re
hardwired to maintain the status quo and part of that is keeping outsiders out
of the pack. Until they’re fully initiated, we see them as a threat and we’re
compelled to…well…destroy them.”

“Like I could stop a werewolf who wanted to get into that
cell? I’ve seen the kind of speed and strength you all have!”

Alex had shaken his head. “No. You’re right. You could never
stop us—physically. But as a human consort you have two things that make you
invincible. One, you wear the amulet in the cave and—two, your bloodline makes
you untouchable. One doesn’t work without the other, but in combination those
things keep you—and the fledglings—safe.”

She had searched her memory for the first time Alex had told
her that her bloodline protected her. “But you told me before that my lineage
made me off-limits to attack. You never said anything about the amulet.”

“You misunderstood,” Alex had said. “I told you that the
pack members are not
allowed
to touch you because you’re a legacy
consort. It’s the law, but laws can be broken and if they are, the penalties
are severe. However, if you’re in the confines of the sacred space—the cave—
and
you’re wearing the necklace, nothing can harm you. It’s physically impossible—like
you’re in a force field.”

Gwen had thought back to the way he’d taken her in the cave
while Jenny slept in the cell just a few yards away. “Well I seem to remember
my ‘force field’ didn’t stop you the night Jenny was changed and I’m pretty
sure I was wearing the amulet.”

“I didn’t harm you, did I?”

Alex had brought her from one orgasm to another and left her
spent and satisfied, but no, he hadn’t harmed her.

* * * * *

Present

With the memory of that night still fresh in her mind, Gwen
rose from the couch and walked to the little side table near the front door.
She opened the drawer and pulled out the thick silver chain. She ran her
fingers over the heavy pendant, tracing each line and curve of the werewolf
symbol.

Alex’s explanation had answered her questions but raised
new—and devastating—problems. It would be easy enough to hand off the amulet to
another person—if the pack could find someone willing to take on the
responsibility. It would be another thing entirely to find someone who shared
her DNA. Following her grandfather’s death, Gwen had become the last of the
Chaney line.

As soon as Gwen walked toward the front door, her golden
retriever, Jezebel, struggled to her feet with a groan and waddled across the
room, tail wagging. Alex’s black Lab, Bob, was right behind her.

Gwen dropped the amulet back into the drawer and slid it
shut. “Feel like a walk, you two furry idiots? I think we could all use some
fresh air.”

Jezebel’s long, fringed tail—and Bob’s sleek one—thumped
against Gwen’s knees. She reached down and scratched both dogs’ heads. “I’ll
take that as a
yes
.”

The three stepped off the front porch and headed toward the
trailhead between the tall pines at the edge of the side yard. Bob ran ahead,
pausing occasionally to sniff and pee. She lost sight of him a couple of times
and wished she had Alex’s powers. The star of the hit TV show
The Dog Talker
had a secret to his success. He could solve canine behavior problems not
because of his background in veterinary medicine and animal behavior, but
because he could literally talk to the animals. He could hear their thoughts
and they could comprehend his.

Alex had explained that it wasn’t so much a conversation as
an understanding. Dogs, he’d told her, thought in emotions and their primary
motivations were food, sex and safety. Alex was able to “fix” them by
deciphering what it was that was upsetting that balance. It was all a mystery
to Gwen. As far as she could tell, Bob’s only current motivation was
identifying the ideal spot to urinate.

Jezebel stayed close to her mistress. It had been a year
since the cougar attack that had nearly killed Jez and she still seemed
skittish when they ventured into the forest. The encounter had shaken Gwen too.
Since then, she never ventured out after dark and always stayed on the trail. Knowing
that she lived smack dab in the middle of a werewolf enclave also gave her
pause.

Though Alex had assured her that her supernatural neighbors were
bound by pack law to protect—not harm—Gwen, it wasn’t the law-abiders she was
worried about.

She’d seen them at their worst—during the first nights of
their change. Without exception they’d thrown themselves against the cell bars
and snapped and snarled at her, spewing out animalistic threats about how
they’d rip out her throat at the first possible opportunity. They didn’t seem
at all like model citizens concerned with upholding the mores of polite
society.

Gwen pulled the crisp autumn air into her lungs and
concentrated on the crunch of the colorful fall leaves under her boots. She’d
hiked this trail a hundred times as a child. Grandpa Chaney had walked by her
side, teaching her how to tell the difference between a red oak and a white.

“The red oak leaf is pointed—like an arrow,” he’d said. “If
you pricked your finger with an arrow, you’d bleed red. The white oak is smooth
and round like a river rock. If you put your hand in the cold stream to pluck
out a rock, your fingertips would turn white. That’s how you remember which is
which.”

He’d taught her the difference between the whistle of a
cardinal and the chirp of a robin. Before she could recite the alphabet she’d
known how to identify poison ivy. A cozy blanket of nostalgia wrapped around
Gwen and she wondered how she’d let herself drift so far from the love of
nature that John Chaney had instilled in her.

He’d been preparing me even then,
she realized.
Though he couldn’t reveal to her what strange things her future held, he’d been
quietly laying the groundwork.

Rounding a switchback in the path, Gwen spied Old Mossy—the
enormous glacial boulder that marked the halfway point of the trail. The soft
green carpet that covered its surface looked the same as it had when she was a
kid, but she knew it was very different.

She remembered the day John had pulled a magnifying glass
from his pocket and passed it to her. “Look closely now, Gwenny. See how the
moss isn’t just one big plant but lots of little ones? Every one of them has
tiny roots that work their way into the rock and break it up. Can you imagine
such a thing? Those soft little plants can turn a great big boulder—millions of
years old—into dust.”

It wasn’t until that moment that Gwen understood the lesson.
It wasn’t about the erosion of some rock in the forest—it spoke to the
thousands of things that could slowly destroy a relationship. She was letting
this thing with Alex eat away at her. A year ago she hadn’t even known
werewolves existed and now she was willing to risk what she and Alex had
because she was intent on becoming one.

What they had was an attraction like nothing she’d ever
experienced before. She was drawn to Alex’s sexual energy and it was clear that
he hungered for her. Though Alex met all of her physical needs, the two were
separated by their realities. Gwen wondered if they would have found each other
in the real world. She doubted it.

Stepping over a rotting log on the path, Gwen thought about
how the march of time would separate them even further. If she remained human,
Alex would live for many lifetimes long after she was gone.

Pack laws regarding her bloodline protected her from the
bite that would bring about the change. Only the potion that had changed Alex
could make her like him. In that little packet of magical tea, he held her
future.

Gwen longed to learn what it would be like if they were
equals. More than that, she needed to discover her own potential.

It’ll happen when it happens
, she decided.

The winding trail sloped downhill and Gwen knew that a wide,
circular clearing was just around the bend. They’d stop there for a few
minutes—as they always did—and give Jezebel a chance to catch her breath. Even
in the cool air, the dog was already panting and foaming at the mouth.

The golden retriever picked up the pace—surging ahead on the
trail—no doubt looking forward to a cool drink and some tummy rubs before they
continued. When Gwen caught up with the dogs, both had stopped at the edge of
the clearing. The fur along their spines was on end, their heads were lowered
and their ears were flattened against their broad heads. But it was the low,
rumbling growl from the dogs’ chests that caused Gwen’s blood to run cold.

Alex McKenzie ran a broad hand through his wavy auburn hair,
took a deep breath then summoned up his best charming-television-star smile.
“Miss…Brittany is it? I absolutely have to be in Minneapolis this afternoon.”

The ticketing agent glanced up from the computer screen with
an airline-issued grin, met his stare, then froze. Her mouth hung open, but it
seemed that her scripted response just couldn’t escape.

Gotcha,
Alex thought.

Her coffee-colored skin darkened slightly as the flush crept
up her throat and across her pretty face. He could smell the flood of juices
from between her legs and, just below that scent, beeswax.
Somebody just got
a Brazilian.
The thought of running his long tongue over that smooth cunt
caused Alex’s cock to jerk.

The moon would be three-quarters tonight and his constantly raging
libido had ratcheted up a notch. It was Alex’s policy to spend this dangerous
time safely back in Talbot, but there were exceptions to every rule.
God,
she smells amazing.
During this point in the lunar cycle, his brain seemed
to relocate between his legs.

A year ago he might have risked it. But a year ago he hadn’t
met Gwen Chaney. She was not only the pack’s legacy consort, he’d claimed her
as his mate. Alex was almost certain that she was one, but at moments like
this, the wolf inside him tested his resolve.

In an instant, Alex conjured up Gwen’s image. He let the
memory of her sweet, tight pussy, her soft, plump thighs and breasts wash over
him. The sexual connection the two shared was unbearably strong, but it was
everything else— it was
she
—who kept him faithful. She had an almost
mystical quality that captivated the human part of him and stirred the animal
that lurked within.

Gwen.

Alex leaned across the laminate counter and concentrated on
pushing the pheromones from his pores. Brittany inhaled, closed her eyes for a
moment, then breathed out an audible sigh.
Coconut and curry.

“Do you like Thai food?” he asked, as if the thought had just
occurred to him.

Brittany’s black-brown eyes widened. “It’s my absolute
favorite! I actually had leftovers for breakfast.”

He glanced briefly at the ceiling, then locked the woman’s
gaze—knowing that he looked for all the world as if he’d stumbled upon a
monumental idea. “Mine too! Listen, I get back to L.A. every month or so. I
know a great little place on the strip with the most mind-blowing coconut-curry
chicken. I don’t suppose…”

“I’d
love
to, Mister—I mean
Doctor
McKenzie.
I’m a big fan of the show, by the way.”

Alex winked. “Please, call me Alex.”

A fresh gush of pussy juices perfumed the air. Alex passed
his itinerary over the counter. “Maybe you could jot down your number?”

He could hear the stutter in her breath as she scribbled on
the printout. “Now, Brittany, about that flight?”

Brittany tore her gaze from his, and tapped on her keyboard.
“I’m so sorry, Doctor…Alex. This is the only nonstop to MSP until this evening
and we’ve got an equipment issue.”

Alex cocked his head and frowned. “Isn’t there anything you
can do? I really
have
to get to Minneapolis before noon Central Time.”

The agent glanced back at her screen, typed for a moment and
then bit her lip. “There was one flight into O’Hare, with a connector to
Minneapolis, but I’m afraid they’ve already boarded. They’re set to take off in
seven minutes and that gate is clear on the other side…”

Reaching across the counter, Alex brushed one finger over
her wrist. He felt the fine hairs on her arm rise in response and heard her
quickening heartbeat thunder above the din of LAX.

C’mon. Look at me.

She glanced up and the flush that had darkened her cheeks
drained away. Without breaking his stare, she groped for the phone beside her
computer. “Let me make a call,” she whispered. The quivering in her voice gave
Alex a sick satisfaction.

* * * * *

Being supernatural had its advantages and its limitations.
There was a fine balance between capitalizing on his powers and maintaining his
secrets. Four years after his change, Alex was still figuring out the nuances.

He’d made the flight from Los Angeles to Chicago O’Hare by the
skin of his teeth. At a full-out run, he could have arrived at the gate in
seconds, but he couldn’t very well go streaking through the concourse at
werewolf speed, freaking out all the tourists and businessmen.

The gate agent had given him the stink eye, but Alex had
smoothed things over. The man was throwing off testosterone like nobody’s
business—advertising that he was as hetero as they come. He was probably a
little confused when Alex turned on the wolf charm. Alex could smell the
excitement on him. Poor guy probably went home questioning everything.

Some of the passengers had needed cajoling as well. It was
no mystery who’d held up the flight. He supposed half of those on board
recognized him from TV and the other half just thought he was some random
asshole delaying their trip home.

The jetway had to be rolled back into place and Alex walked
onboard as the flight attendant was giving her spiel about oxygen masks,
buoyant seat cushions and emergency exits.

He’d mustered up his best apologetic shrug and made direct
eye contact with the people who seemed especially pissed off. As soon as the
plane reached altitude and the captain had turned off the “fasten seat belts”
light, they started lining up in the aisle for autographs.

Alex was grateful when they hit turbulence over the Rockies
and everyone had to return to their seats and buckle up. He took the
opportunity to plug in his MP3 player, close his eyes and tune out.

Even if he weren’t trying to avoid overzealous fans, Alex
would have grabbed the nap. The next few days would take their toll on him
physically. He was at peak strength and stamina during moon week, but the
energy he expended tested the limits of the human part of him.

Stretching out his long legs as far as the first-class seat
would allow, Alex quickly fell into a fitful sleep.

* * * * *

Gwen.

He could smell her. Saliva flooded his mouth and his cock
stiffened. She was waiting for him, wet and hot and ready. Alex paced on the
front porch of her cabin. He reached for the door knob but couldn’t turn it.
His hand had transformed into wolf’s paw—not the dexterous modified fingers of
his shifted form. Throwing back his head, he howled in frustration. From behind
the door, he could hear Gwen whine in reply.

“You’re going to have to break it down.”

Alex jerked his head toward the voice and saw his
production assistant, Charlene, standing beside him studying her clipboard.
“Yep, it’s right here in my notes. Wolves can’t turn doorknobs.”

What was she doing here? She was supposed to be back in
L.A. and he couldn’t let her see him like this.

“You have to go,” he snarled.

“I’m not afraid of the big bad wolf,” Charlene said, then
spun on her heel and walked away.

Alex stared at the four ragged and bloody lines slashed
down her back. “Did I do that to you?”

Before she could answer, Charlene dissolved away, leaving
Alex alone on the porch. He lowered his shoulder and rammed the door. The wood
splintered and broken glass tinkled to the floor.

Gwen was sprawled out on the couch, naked. He swept his
gaze over her smooth skin and his pulse quickened. Opening her legs, she
reached down and spread the juicy lips. Alex stared, unable to move, as her
fingers grew and curled inward with long claws erupting from the tips.

Confused, he looked up at her face and watched her jaw
morph and stretch. Only her hands and mouth shifted. There was no fur, no
pointed ears, no paw-like feet. The sight of a long snout on her pretty human
face was at once jarring and incredibly erotic.

She smiled at him and ran her long tongue over sharp
canines. “What’s the matter, Alex? Don’t you like what you see? Don’t you want
to fuck me?”

He did want to fuck her. It didn’t matter if she were a
human, a monster or something in between.

Mine
.

The sweet musk from between her thighs was driving him
insane and the need to be inside her consumed him.

One instant he was standing on the splintered remains of
the front door and the next he was on top of her, pushing into her dripping
pussy. Every one of his senses was razor sharp. He could feel her tight inner
walls clamping down around him and the softness of her big breasts crushed
beneath his chest.

Her breath was hot against his neck and her moans spurred
him on. Sex with Gwen had always been amazing—the best in his life, but this
was like nothing he’d ever experienced before and he didn’t want it to end. He
would have to slow down or he was going to come.

Gwen quivered beneath him and panted. He could feel her
orgasm building, but he was determined it would be one of many. By the time he was
done with her, she would never want to be with another.

Mine
.

Spasms rippled through her hot cunt and Alex fought to
hold on. She scraped her claws down his back and sank her fangs into his
shoulder. The sting brought Alex to the brink and he jerked back his hips,
trying to pull out of her before he came. An overwhelming force stopped him, as
if he was bound to her by some invisible tie.

“Once copulation between two werewolves has commenced,
the male can only withdraw after ejaculation. Says so right here in my notes.”

Straightening his arms and rising up off Gwen’s chest,
Alex jerked his head toward the voice. Charlene was sitting in the recliner
across the room. She held her clipboard in one hand and was masturbating with
the other. She draped one leg over the upholstered arm and Alex had a clear
view of her manicured fingers plunging in and out of her shaved pussy.

The busty blonde looked up from her notes and winked.
“Remember when we used to fuck almost every day, boss? I wish you’d told me
back then that you were a werewolf and you just needed a hot place to stick it
until you got control of yourself. It wouldn’t have stopped me you know. I
loved that big dick of yours and the way you screwed like an animal. Ha!
Because you are an animal!”

Charlene snorted at her own joke, then tossed the
clipboard aside and stood. In the blink of an eye, she was standing beside him
with her miniskirt hiked up around her waist and one foot up on the couch by
Gwen’s head. Charlene tilted her pelvis into Alex’s face. “C’mon, boss, how
about a little lick with that long, wolfy tongue of yours?”

Alex snapped his attention to Gwen. She looked up at him
and nodded. “Do it, Alex,” she whispered. “Lick that slut and fuck me until you
come.”

“Do it, boss,” Charlene urged.

Soon the two women were chanting, “Do it! Do it! Do it!”

Everything around him took on a blood-red hue, then the
room seemed to tilt and spin like a nauseating carnival ride. Alex squeezed his
eyes shut. The sound of Gwen and Charlene’s incantation and the thundering of
their three heartbeats was earsplitting.

Even through the noise and confusion, Alex continued to
thrust into Gwen. He snaked his tongue through his teeth and the instant he
tasted Charlene’s pussy, it was as if a firework went off inside his skull. The
world turned blazing white and silent.

Then he was in forest—and he was ravenous.

Faster. Faster. Faster. The trees blurred as Alex raced
through the woods. Leaves and pine needles swirled behind him, as his claws dug
into the forest carpet. His black lips curled back and he could taste the doe’s
scent.

Kill
.

He rounded a huge moss-covered boulder and the trail
opened onto a circular clearing. His prey was standing at the center, frozen
with fear. Alex lunged and tackled the deer, sinking his fangs into her throat
as they tumbled to the ground. She bleated out her distress call until Alex
clamped down and crushed her windpipe. The animal was silent but still
struggled, kicking out at him with her sharp hooves.

Snarling and growling, Alex tore through the tough hide
and hot jets of blood spurted into his mouth. The taste of it fueled his frenzy
and he felt himself grow stronger as her energy flowed into him. He gulped at
her life force until the doe’s movements slowed until finally she was still.

When he was sated, Alex slumped down atop the still-warm
body and shifted. The deer’s sticky fur felt rough against his human cheek.
Deep within the animal’s chest, he heard the slow thud of a weak heartbeat. He
slid down her body and pressed his ear to her rib cage. A ball of nervous
energy gathered in Alex’s belly as he heard the heartbeat grow quicker and
stronger. The doe’s fur seemed to pull inward until it disappeared entirely,
leaving behind pale, smooth skin. Its musky smell was replaced with one much
sweeter—and much more familiar.

Alex sprang to his feet and watched as his prey took on
human form. Its hooves became hands and feet. The front legs became arms and
the rear morphed into plump thighs and shapely calves. Hips filled out and the
center of the torso cinched inward to create a waist.

Beautiful, full breasts bloomed from the chest, and Alex
knew before looking at the face who was lying before him. He’d studied every
sensual curve of that amazing body. With his heartbeat thundering in his ears,
Alex forced himself to meet her gaze. Gwen swiped the blood from the side of
her neck then propped herself up on her elbows. She opened her mouth as if to
speak, but instead of words, she made the sickening bleat of a deer in
distress.