Wanted by the Alphas (An Extremely Sensual Paranormal Shifter Romance) (15 page)

What do you know? she thinks. You have never
been hurt like this. But what does she know about him anyway? He
might have been hurt before. He is older than she is. More
experienced.

She says listlessly, “I know what you
are.”

He pauses. Conflicting emotions flit on his
handsome face.

Then he says, “I know that you know. You’ve
known it since you saw us in the woods with your brother not far
from here.”

Good, she thinks. Then we are all clear.

“I know you know what Lucien is as well. The
only thing you probably don’t know is how powerful a witch he is.
He is not evil. He doesn’t use his powers to do bad things. At
least . . . I don’t think so. Profitable things, maybe. A nudge
here, a mental push there for a client to make him sign the
deal.

“I don’t think he had anything to do with my
brother’s death, but I cannot rule out the rest of his family as a
coven. Together, they are extremely powerful, and my brother as an
alpha was not known for his finesse in dealing with witches. Our
families always had a grudge against one another since the last
century. Territorial clashes between werewolves and witches and the
like.”

He smiles ruefully.

“Lucien and I are just inheritors of the
age-old feud. But here we are, enemies nonetheless. We are the
Montagues and the Capulets. Now that my brother is dead, I have to
lead the clans. Just as Lucien is being groomed to take over his
father’s place.”

She has expected him to say hostile things
about Lucien, and so she is surprised when he is being so earnest
and pragmatic about it. A warmth spreads through her tummy – a
sensation she has not experienced in so many hours that it comes as
a shock to her that she can actually feel anything at all.

The tears start again. And here, she thought
she was all dehydrated and dried up. She had thought there would be
nothing left to be wrung out of her anymore.

But there is. There apparently is plenty
more.

“Shannon.” There is distress in his voice as
her shoulders shake and her sobs start up again.

Wordlessly, he goes to her. She lets him put
his arms around her and hold her. His body is hard, but she is too
cried out to feel anything but an indifferent comfort. He lies down
next to her and holds her this way for a long, long time until the
shadows are long on the walls and the sun outside turns into a rich
golden red.

THE RIDGE

It starts insidiously, of course.

Kirk is right. Things did get better.

They got better the next morning when Jared
made her breakfast and she took the day off on Kirk’s auspices.
They got even better the next day when she went back to work.

She throws herself mercilessly into her work.
She takes on more patients than necessary and stays back long after
everyone else has left. Everyone excepting Kirk, of course. He is a
silent shadow watching her progress – or rather, her healing.

He doesn’t speak of that night he held her,
but she notices that he treats her differently. As if she is his
friend rather than his employee.

She is grateful for that.

Meanwhile, the trees turn into gold and red
and yellow, and they start to shed their leaves as Halloween draws
closer. She is trying not to think of that date, but it is
difficult as the supermarkets and stores are decorated and filled
with merchandise for the occasion. The residents of Dolphin’s Bay
are very much into Halloween, maybe because of their celebrated
witch tradition, and the houses are all competing for the best
decorated garden theme – an annual feature of the Dolphin’s Bay
local newspaper.

The residents are a creative bunch.

They erect ghosts and ghouls and skeletons
and pumpkins in their gardens, together with piped eerie music.
They dangle severed heads from their rafters and smear fake blood
all over their walls (which can be washed out later, of
course).

So it is difficult for Shannon to put
Halloween and its significance out of her mind altogether.

Kirk senses this.

“Don’t think about him,” he urges. “Focus on
your work.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing?” she
shoots back. And then, contrite, she says in a more conciliatory
tone, “Sorry I snapped at you but I’ve been pretty much on edge
lately.”

He nods understandingly.

He says, “You want to go look at the Blue
Ridge Pass?”

She has heard of it but she has never gone to
it because it is not accessible by road.

She wrinkles her nose. “You mean we have to
hike there?”

He grins.

*

She doesn’t know why she agrees to meet Kirk
at the area where she last saw him and the other werewolves in the
forest. But it is not far from her cottage, and he is already
waiting there when she arrives. Her breath catches in her throat.
He is so beautiful with his shoulder-length dark hair curling over
his broad shoulders.

“You’re alone,” she observes.

“Yes.”

It is strange how comfortable she is around
him now. She doesn’t think of him as a boss anymore. More like a
co-worker. Or a friend she can lean on – the type of friend who
knows all her secrets and still likes her for them. Maybe it’s
because he has secrets of his own.

“So we’re going to hike from here?” she says.
She shows him her backpack. “I brought water for the two of us. And
I wore my good shoes.”

“We’re not going to hike,” he says. “Are you
the blushing kind?”

“I work in your clinic, remember?”

“Oh yeah.” He grins. “How quickly I forget.
Turn around.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to take all my clothes
off.”

She suddenly blushes. She quickly turns
around to face the other side.

He laughs. “It’s OK. You’re going to be
seeing plenty of me anyway. But here, we don’t have to hide who we
are.”

She understands what he is about to do. Her
cheeks burning furiously, she gives him his privacy as he
undresses.

“Can you put my clothes into your backpack?”
he says.

“OK. Tell me when to look.”

His transition is almost soundless. And she
knows he has transformed when a low growl punctures the air behind
her.

She turns, sucking in her breath. And stares
at the beautiful werewolf with green eyes which appears before her.
His fur is honey gold in color and burnished in patches. He is
sleek and lean as he stands on his powerful legs. He is far larger
than a wolf, though not as large as Jared’s panther.

She stares at him for a long time, afraid to
move.

Then:

Why should I be afraid of him? He is very
much in control of his bestial side.

Taking a tentative step forward, she moves to
retrieve his clothes from the ground. Jeans. Plaid shirt. He
doesn’t wear underwear.

He watches her patiently as she folds his
clothes neatly and stuffs them into her backpack. Then she goes to
him. Her hand reaches out and touches his shining fur in wonder. It
is like petting a wild lion – at any time, you’re afraid he would
turn around and rip your hand off. At her soft touch, a deep rumble
crosses his chest, and the vibrations travel to her flesh, causing
strange sensations to ripple within her.

Get on,
he seems to say.

She has ridden Jared plenty of times before,
and this is no different. She is an expert in mounting
shapeshifters when they are in their animal form now. She slings
her backpack behind her and straps it firmly to her body. Then she
grabs his fur and mounts him with some difficulty.

Once she is upon his broad back, he begins to
gait. He ascertains that she is holding hard onto his fur before he
picks up the pace. She straddles his broad back, gripping him hard
with her thighs. The sensation that goes through her legs is almost
sexual.

He speeds up. Soon, they are racing through
the forest, past the dark trees with their autumn haloes and up, up
into the hills. The wind whips her face and tears her hair
backwards. The exhilaration courses in her veins as his legs pump
back and forth. She can feel his power surging within her. Her
heart beats with a rapid thud-thud-thud that pound in her ears.

After about twenty minutes, they are out of
the forest and traversing the foothills of the ridge. The view is
incredible. The ridge is verdant, despite being named blue, and
dotted with trees as far as the eye can see. Here, the air is crisp
and sweet. She is glad she brought her jacket to keep her warm
because it is beginning to be really cold.

He slows down as they come to the pass. It is
a thin valley between two of the hills in the ridge. The grass of
the valley is a deep green and speckled with yellow flowers.
Everything is fresh and scented with pine.

She can hardly feel her cheeks and hands now
– they are so cold in the wind. The werewolf canters to a halt, and
when he finally stops, it takes her a while to uncramp her limbs so
that she can slide off his back and onto the lush, carpeted
ground.

“God, that was amazing,” she breathes.

He is panting and his mouth is open to let
out the heat. She throws herself down on the ground to rest. Her
legs are wobbly. Shivering, she draws her jacket tightly around her
and buries her hands in it.

Before her eyes, he metamorphoses. His large
form shrinks and his four legs become two arms and two human legs.
His fur vanishes, and in its place is bare skin. His head is bowed.
He looks up, and his eyes are a brilliant green against the lush
grass.

He is also naked, and he makes no attempt to
conceal his impressive erection. Shapeshifters are always horny
after a transformation, she knows. But she also knows he would not
force himself on her.

He smiles a heavenly smile, and she can’t
help smiling back. She knows what he is thinking.

As nature intended.

“Liked that?” he says.

“I’ve had better,” she teases.

He laughs. “As if. Where are my clothes?”

She blushes to see his cock – which is
rearing up to point at her.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he says. “It’s
always hard after a run. Though . . . ”

He pauses pointedly.

She quickly hides her face as she reaches
into her backpack for his clothes. He takes them from her.

After he has dressed, they lie together and
stare into the blue sky.

“No rain,” she says.

“Don’t count your chickens.”

“Do you hunt?”

He is very close to her, and if she stretches
out her arm, she would touch his bicep.

“Sometimes. We hunt rabbits and the like.
Small plentiful animals, mostly. Nothing protected.”

“My brother likewise.”

“You didn’t tell me the whole story of how
you really escaped from Conchita Ruiz, did you? Your brother in his
shifter form has something to do with it.”

“Yes.”

“As much as we can, we try not to be
conspicuous to the normal townsfolk. Not many people outside our
community know we exist.”

“The witches certainly do.”

He smiles. “Magical creatures tend to flock
together. Or else they are at war.”

“How do you intend to resolve your feud with
the Walker family?”

“It hasn’t been resolved for over a hundred
years. What makes you think I will be the one to resolve it?”

He shakes his head.

“It isn’t easy being the alpha of this clan.
My younger cousins are nipping at my heels, and yet I know I cannot
cede my position to them, or else my own immediate family and
everyone else will suffer. My cousins are not matured enough to
understand the consequences of an all-out war against other shifter
clans and the witches. They are more feral, and they are itching at
the bait to fight. I can’t allow that to happen. The only way I can
do that is to maintain control, as much as I don’t want the
job.”

“You have no one else to pass the mantle
to?”

“Not yet. The eldest of my cousins is Bob,
and he has been trying to challenge me of late. He has been trying
to provoke me into a fight. I can see that happening one day. He
thinks I’m too diplomatic to be an alpha, and the younger ones are
agreeing with him.”

Shannon remembers the pack of werewolves who
were advancing towards Jared.

“If Bob had his way, he would rip your
brother apart,” Kirk says meaningfully. “I won’t allow that to
happen.”

“I know.” The thought of having so many
enemies around them is sobering. Would they ever find peace? Or is
that wishful thinking on her part?

“If you fight Bob, what’s going to happen?”
she asks, suddenly fearful for Kirk.

“Right now, I am still stronger on account of
my age and skills. But Bob is rapidly catching up. I have to be
better, stronger to maintain the status quo. It isn’t easy. I’m
growing older. Pretty soon, I’ll be thirty. My brother was a very
aggressive alpha. He kept his rule easily enough among us, but his
natural aggression led him to challenge the other clans as well,
including the witch clans. I don’t think that is the right course.
But I fear more of my cousins are becoming restless with my rule,
and soon, there will be an explosion.”

She doesn’t say anything, thinking of what he
must be going through.

He goes on, “Being the alpha of my clan goes
against everything I am. My role in life is as a healer, not a
fighter. Every day, I struggle with this divide within myself.” He
laughs softly. “It’s like having a split personality.”

“Were you always a werewolf?”

“We come into our heritage when we hit
puberty. My family always had the gene as far as their genealogy
can be traced. The girls become more subdued when they have their
firstborn and the need to transform gets less and less, and that is
why so many of my sisters opt to have their families early.”

She gazes at his perfect profile. He is
looking up at the scudding clouds wistfully. She knows he is
thinking about anything and everything – about being shoved into a
role he does not crave.