The Lone Alpha Unleashed: A Big Girl Meets Bad Wolf Romance

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Epilogue

A Note From The Author

- X -

James had cleared the back of
the pickup and liberated a mattress from the cabin. I guessed the rental agency
could bill me for it along with the damage to the door. The damage that was
sustained when a man who had shifted into the form of a rather large wolf had
crashed through it as part of a confrontation that had dramatically changed my
life.

As a result, not only was I
sleeping under the stars in the back of my father’s pickup truck, but I was
doing so next to a man who could, at will, change into a wolf.

James was handsome in a
rough-around-the-edges kind of way. James was buff and then some. James was a
shifter. An alpha male no less, born to lead and protect his pack. He was more
of a man than everyone else I had ever dated combined.

I was surprised at how quickly
I’d come to accept the monumental change in my worldview that was necessary to
accommodate the idea that shifters were real. That’s what they called
themselves. They weren’t werewolves from horror movies of old. No full moon. No
silver bullets. They were people. People who could transform into animals. In
the end my acceptance of the situation came down to the fact that I’d seen it
with my own eyes. Although I had, admittedly, been a little drunk at the time.

That said, I was still
struggling to come to terms with the fact that this gorgeous hunk of a wolf-man
lying naked beside me was, if not in love, then at least in lust, with me. I
think it said a lot about my self confidence that I could readily believe in
the existence of shifters, but was still struggling with the idea that one of
them was attracted to me. That one of them was sleeping next to me right now.

I’d never actually slept outside
before. My father was a recreational hunter. But for him this was a solitary
pursuit and not something I’d ever been invited to be a part of. Instead, I’d
get dropped off at a friend’s house for a night or two while he went off to do
whatever it was that men did when alone in the woods. I never went camping
either. Any trips into the great outdoors usually involved retiring to a luxury
cabin, complete with hot tub and champagne, once it started to get late. So
sleeping under the stars was a new experience for me.

In general, I’d have to say I
wasn’t a fan. It was too cold and every chirp of an insect or hoot of an owl
seemed to be amplified by the crisp clear mountain air. Nature was noisy and
uncomfortable. I was much more at home with the honking horns, late night
sirens and drunken revelers outside on the street in front of my snug
inner-city apartment.

But James’ presence next to mine
made everything all right. His body radiated heat. He was always so warm,
almost hot to the touch. And whenever I got spooked by the sounds of nature I
could just listen to him breathe. The gentle purr at the back of his throat
that accompanied the rise and fall of his broad, bare chest.

 I smiled to myself and turned onto my back to look at the stars.

Without waking, James reached
out to lay an arm across my torso. An action that reflected his instinctive
need to protect, and perhaps possess. We had known each other for a matter of
days, but both of us knew there was something between us. Something more than
the raw lust we seemed to arouse in each other. Some kind of bond that neither
of us could explain.

I knew the nature of this bond
both concerned and confused James. He had explained to me that shifters
sometimes felt it. If they numbered amongst those lucky enough to find another
who was destined to be their mate for life. But, I wasn’t a shifter and right
now I didn’t care about these mysteries. I just wanted to live in the moment.

I sighed. Living in the moment.
That was the problem. I didn’t want this moment to end, but it would have to. I
couldn’t live like this. I had a job. I had a life. I’d have to return to it at
some point. I briefly entertained the idea of throwing it all away, but for
what? Regardless of any mysterious connection we had, I didn’t really know
James. He had a past. He had secrets. He had scars. Beyond that he had a job of
his own. A job he refused to talk about.

But others weren’t so tight
lipped. They spoke of it in hushed tones. How James was a traitor and a killer.
Paid by the government to hunt down and terminate shifters who had gone rogue.
I was sleeping with a killer. I wasn’t sure that was something I could ever
come to terms with.

As much as I wanted to live in
the moment I found myself thinking about what the future could possibly hold
for us. I couldn’t see James settling down to a tranquil life in the suburbs
and I could never really be part of a pack. I struggled to think of any kind of
middle ground between our two worlds. The more I failed to envisage any kind of
compromise, the more the connection that brought us together began to feel like
a cruel joke.

My thoughts were interrupted by
movement and the creaking of the truck’s worn suspension as James turned
towards me, his hands sliding under the thin blanket we shared to find and cup,
my full round breasts.

Well, good morning to you too
.

I remained silent but for a hiss
of pleasure escaping from between my pursed lips. Our moment had lasted a few
days and in that time our lovemaking had been frequent and energetic. James
appeared to be insatiable and when I was with him my libido seemed to go into
overdrive. But for now I was happy to lie back and enjoy his
uncharacteristically gentle attentions in silence.

He took his time as he explored
my breasts with workmanlike thoroughness. Even though it felt like we had known
each other all our lives, that we were destined to be together, we lacked a
certain familiarity with each others bodies that long term partners would
usually have. It felt like he was making up for lost time.

I wasn’t complaining. One of the
unfortunate side-effects of being a big girl was that a lot of men assume
you’re so grateful for any kind of interest or sexual contact that they don’t
need to make an effort. As I’m sure you can imagine this doesn’t exactly do
wonders for your self esteem. Someone taking this kind of interest in my body
was an amazing new experience.

I groaned as one of his hands
made its way down my body, the heel of his palm pressed firmly against the soft
flesh of my torso. My breath caught in my throat. Even though I had never
sensed anything other than admiration from James, there was always that
lingering fear that my body would disgust him. It was an old habit that would
be hard to break.

I groaned again and raised my
hips to meet him, as his fingers entwined themselves in the neatly trimmed hair
between my legs.

“Oh…”

“Oh?”

“How do you do this?”

“This?”

I giggled at his confusion. I’m
not normally a giggler, but I couldn’t help it. “This… how do you do this to my
body? You always know exactly what to do. You always know exactly how tooooo….”

His hands returned to my breasts
as he shifted position. The blanket fell away, exposing me to the elements.

“I listen…”

I chewed my lip and squirmed
beneath him. I was beginning to think he was showing off. Every touch, every
single touch, made my body sing.

“I listen to every little breath
and every silent sigh. I hear the beating of your heart and the pulse of the
blood in your veins. I notice every time your eyelids flicker, every time your
lip trembles. And I taste…”

Oh God
, his fingers were
replaced with warm lips and the prickle of his stubble as he began to repeat
his explorations of my breasts with lips, teeth and tongue.

“Oh… Oh…. is this…. is this a
shifter thing?”

“Hmph,” he made a noncommittal
grunt in the back of his throat before replying, “it’s a shifter thing. It’s an
alpha thing. It’s a pride thing.”

I got it. He wanted to be the
best. He had to be the best.

I relaxed and let him be
the best. His mouth made his way from my breasts, leaving a trail of nibbling
kisses down my torso and across my thighs. When he reached his destination I
arched my back, rising to meet him as I locked my legs around his neck, my
lower body supported by the knotted muscles of his wide shoulders. It wasn’t
long before I gave him a lot more to listen to.

I had to admit that while I
still wasn’t sold on the idea of sleeping under the stars, this was a pretty
good way to wake up.

- X -

When we had first arrived at the
pack’s compound a couple of days earlier, I had been shocked by the sight of
it. As I helped James unload supplies, medicine and bottled water from the back
of the pickup, I felt for a moment as if I was taking part in some sort of
disaster relief effort.

This was a den, home to an
extended family of wolf shifters that James claimed had once been a proud and
prosperous pack, one of the largest on the continent. But now?

The place was a dump. Three
rusted trailer homes on cinder blocks and a couple of flimsy looking lean-to
shelters. Between them rotting garbage had been left where it fell and the stench
suggested a somewhat lax attitude towards waste disposal in general.

Everywhere I looked there were
signs of poverty and decay, but more than that was the overwhelming sense of a
complete lack of pride. That these were a people who had given up and given in
to the inevitable.

I could tell it shamed James. He
struggled to look me in the eye as we unloaded much needed supplies in silence.
He wasn’t the only one. No one in the camp would look me in the eye and I
didn’t detect a hint of gratitude as we distributed our bounty.

They treated James with distrust
and at times outright contempt. In their eyes, he was a traitor and, despite
the fact he tried to save him, implicit in the death of their former pack
leader. But they still accepted the supplies. They clearly needed them.
Leaderless and lost, they needed them more than ever.

Once everything had been
distributed, James paused for a drink of water before fetching a toolkit from
the cab of the truck. He set to work like a man possessed. Mending doors and hinges,
sanding and sealing rust and rotten wood.

Over time others joined him.
Shamed into action by a stranger who took more pride in their surroundings than
they did. Some began to dispose of the rotting garbage, transferring it to
freshly dug trenches well outside the boundaries of the camp.