Alpha's Claim

by Amelia Hutchins

  “Have a drink, Braelyn,” Bowen announced, smiling as he pushed a bottle of tequila in front of me.

  “Yeah, Princess. Drink with us,” Sian chuckled, grabbing the bottle to pour shots.

  My eyes slid to the lone female in the group, taking in her warrior braids while she returned the stare. Her eyes were blue and vibrant with intelligence shining while her mouth twisted in amusement. Judging by the way she watched me, she had already decided I’d look better six feet underground.

  “It’s a beautiful place you have here, Braelyn,” a man in his thirties stated.

  “Had,” the female inserted, watching me.

  “My mother’s people settled here one hundred years ago,” I replied, grabbing the bottle and tossing it back, ignoring the seriously hot demon that observed me silently. I polished off the fifth, setting it down before turning toward Bowen, whose rounded eyes peered over my head. “Come on, Bowen. Don’t let a little pampered bitch out-drink you. Next bottle? I really don’t want to remember tonight, ever.”

  Blue eyes speckled with dark flecks locked with mine across the makeshift table. The male’s hair shone in the fire’s light, and the way he watched me felt as if he was accessing every dark sin I’d ever committed. This male didn’t just look at you; he gazed into your soul, slowly picking it apart while you stood there, helpless to look away. His mouth curved into a soft smile, and his gaze released mine as if he hadn’t just fucking dissected me like some wild animal.

  “This is Xavier. Xariana is his daughter,” Saint stated, nodding toward the woman and the older gentlemen. “This is Enzo and Ezekiel. They’re…” he paused, turning to look at me with a smile playing on his mouth.

  “Hunters and demons, and the one behind him is fae. Which type, I’m uncertain. There are fifty-three hunters, seventeen demons, three witches, and one fae within pack territory. Five hunters are looking at the wolves across from us, wondering which will shift and cause a problem, allowing them to be killed. The answer is simple; none will change because we’re not shifters, unlike the wolf standing at their back. The demons are incubuses. The smell of sex rolling off them gives it away. One is something else, but he has no scent other than the darkness that envelopes him in secrets, but he wants it that way. There are over sixty shifters, each wanting to get their itches scratched, and they really don’t care how they do it. Three totem wolves and five Lycans are within the wolves, hiding their scent among them. In short, you brought a shit-show to the mountain. Am I missing anyone?” My eyes held Saint’s, watching as they narrowed on me in surprise. “I may have grown up in the mountains, but I am not stupid in the ways of shit that can kill us.”

  “I think you covered it very well, Braelyn,” Enzo said, tilting his dark head and smiling at me as if he knew something I didn’t.

  A bottle was put in front of me, and I reached for it, but Saint’s hand landed over mine, removing the bottle from my grasp. He poured drinks into the cups on the table and placed one in front of me as he brushed his heated lips against my ear.

  “You will not be able to forget tonight, mate,” he murmured, sending a shiver racing down my spine.

  “A girl can dream, Saint. Sometimes, dreams are all that’s left when everything is burned to ash.”

  “Finish your drink, and we will retire to the mating tent, Braelyn.”

  “I’d rather swallow razor blades and deal with that aftermath,” I muttered, seeing Enzo’s smile widen.

  “They’d probably be gentler than I plan to be with you tonight,” he continued, sending a blush rushing to my cheeks. “Drink so that I can fuck you.”

  I tipped my glass back, finishing it, then wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Someone said something to Saint, forcing him to turn toward the voice. My eyes slid up, which normally didn’t happen at my height. I stared into Nordic-blue eyes that slid over me before shifting back to Saint.

  “Blessings and may the gods be kind and fill your womb tonight, Braelyn Haralson. It is rare to find your true soul mate, and I am curious. Why did you reject him?” the male asked. He wasn’t just any male—he was Lycan. A savage breed, they were.

  “I was a young girl, trying to protect Saint from my father. He gave me two impossible choices. I chose badly, apparently.”

  “You may find happiness yet, brother.”

  “Braelyn, you know of Leif Knight, right?” Saint asked, watching the blood drain from my face. “Don’t worry. He isn’t here to murder your pack. He came with me.”

  “Velsignet er ulven og hans blodlinje, kong Leif.”

  “She speaks Norwegian,” Leif stated, bowing his head. “Blessed is the bride of the wolf who carries his bloodline within her womb, Princess.”

  “I’m not actually a princess. They just enjoy calling me that to taunt me.”

  “Your mother was a princess, and a very beautiful one at that,” Leif returned softly.

  “This world holds no titles, and neither do we anymore,” I whispered, moving away from them to hide the shame of being blackballed wolves. Leif’s family had hunted mine down, driving us out of Norway. It was how we’d ended up here.

  “That was rude, Brat.”

  “You brought enemies to our doors, and you want to speak about being rude? You realize Leif hunted my family down and murdered most of them, right? Simply because he was a Lycan, and we weren’t.”

  “You will respect my guests, Braelyn. You’ve lived a sheltered, privileged life here. That group consists of survivors who make it their business to hunt down monsters. The only reason you’re not on their kill list is that I promised to tame you and make you pay for your trespasses against all creatures.”

  “And pray tell, how have I trespassed against these creatures?” I demanded, pausing just outside the tent.

  Saint’s eyes burned with anger as drunken women grabbed me, whisking me into the tent. I yelped, surprised, as they began stripping me. Tora’s eyes met mine as she pretended to be drunk, plopping whiskey down beside the furs they had forced me onto after being stripped naked. This shit tradition really needed never to be used, ever again.

  “Are you okay?” Tora whispered, her eyes lifted to the front of the tent where Saint had entered with his men, all of them staring at us.

  “I’m fine. Everything is fine. I’ll be okay,” I promised, uncertain if I was telling the truth.

  “She’ll be fine, Toralei. She’s my mate, not yours. Get out and stand guard with the others who will protect us for the duration of the night,” Saint hissed. My best friend and the worst beta ever because, like me, she wasn’t actually a beta at all, slipped through the flap to do as Saint instructed.

  Saint’s eyes slid over my marked shoulder and then lowered to where I clenched the furs to my naked chest. His crew didn’t help him shed his clothes, but they didn’t leave right away either. Instead, they all stood inside the tent, crowding it while I sat awkwardly watching them.

  “Make her scream for us, yeah?” Eryx snorted, patting Saint on the back.

  “She’ll scream for me,” Saint promised, holding my gaze locked to his.

  The men chuckled, exiting the tent, leaving me alone to face Saint. He pushed down his pants, exposing his cock to my heated gaze. I turned away from the sight of him as nervousness plagued my mind. He was hugely endowed, and that shit wasn’t fitting into any tight spaces without an intense amount of pain.

  He tugged at the furs, causing my wide eyes to swing back to where he stood, studying me. My grip tightened as a soft smile played on his mouth. His attention slid to my white-knuckled grip and narrowed before he exhaled, walking to the side of the fur pallet, crudely made for our mating. Blood rushed to my cheeks as I closed my eyes against the sleek build of his body. I could survive this, right? No matter how brutal he intended to be, I would survive this, too. I had to. My pack counted on me for their survival. I could handle one dick because, well, there wasn’t any other choice.

  Chapter Six

&nbs
p; Saint sat beside me, his leg brushing against mine, sending a flurry of butterflies erupting into flight inside my belly. His hand lowered, and once more, he tugged on the blankets before expelling air from his lungs. He didn’t rip them out of my hands, choosing to lean over me to retrieve the cup and wine.

  He poured the wine into the pewter goblet as my body trembled, knowing that I wasn’t escaping tonight. It wasn’t that I feared sex with Saint; it was that he’d discover the truth and turn something that should be beautiful, ugly.

  He offered me the wine, and I reached to grab the cup as he pulled the covers away from my body, smiling in victory. My lips touched the goblet, and his eyes slid down my naked body with a hunger that consumed my thoughts.

  I’d wanted him, and this. He’d been the only lover I’d ever wanted. When I’d denied him as my true soul mate to save him, I’d settled into a life of subpar reality. Sipping the wine, I licked my lips before offering him my cup.

  It was tradition to drink the vile-tasting bitter wine that lacked the kick of whiskey. Saint took a small sip, turning up his lips at the taste before offering it back to me. Shaking my head, I slowly lay back, uncertain of how to start the entire catastrophe happening.

  Saint slid his hand down my belly, and I swallowed the moan that rolled to my tongue. Lowering his heated mouth, he licked my nipple before nipping at it with his teeth. Heat curled in my belly, with how his fingers trailed over my stomach, drawing the runes for fertility. I understood why he did it, considering he was here to destroy me, and he promised to breed me for his heirs.

  Saint shifted, causing me to tense, forcing his eyes to lift to mine. Something passed over his face briefly, but before I could figure out what it was, it had vanished behind the mask he wore.

  “You’re skittish, Brat. Afraid I’m going to hurt you?” he asked, his eyes holding mine prisoner.

  “Yes,” I replied honestly, watching as he pushed my knees apart.

  He laughed, choosing to leave me guessing about his intentions. His mouth lowered to my sex, and my knees dropped open, exposing myself to him. I inhaled deeply in anticipation before his lips turned, kissing the inside of my thigh, repeating the action on the other. He growled, staring at my apex while a whimper rushed from my lungs.

  When his tongue found my clit, I hissed as pleasure rolled through me. I lifted my hands, grabbing his hair to hold his heated breath where it was. He curled his arms beneath my thighs, forcing my spine to arch as he slid his tongue through the arousal of my core. A small cry of pleasure escaped my throat as my hands dug into his soft hair.

  Saint laughed against my sex, lapping at it hungrily, watching me rock against his heated kiss. A ball of need grew within my belly, but a moment before it would have unleashed, Saint lifted his head, studying my face. He climbed up my body, slowly dragging his fingers through my sex.

  “I’ll worry about foreplay later,” he grunted, something dark passing over his face.

  I didn’t speak because what the hell would I even say to that? Settling between my thighs, I gasped as he pushed his thick cock against my opening. Panic shot through me, and his eyes narrowed on my pinched features. He snorted, thrusting into my body. A scream ripped from my lungs, and he went still, pushing his arms up to stare down at me.

  “What the fuck, Braelyn?” he growled.

  I looked away from him as his men turned, inhaling the unmistakable scent. Virgin blood smelled different from regular blood, which was once considered a prize given to only a true soul mate.

  “I told you that you were going to feel like an asshole,” I whispered, fighting against the pain of his entrance and the uncomfortable sensation it created.

  It burned and ached as my body clenched, trying to dispel him from within me. I rocked my hips, unwilling to meet his damning stare. Saint lowered his body, and he turned my head, forcing me to look at him.

  “I saw fucking pictures,” he hissed, uncaring that his men were listening.

  “I’m sure you did, thinking the worst of me without ever speaking to me about it or hearing my side.” I peered into his eyes challengingly. He snorted, leaning back to look at where we joined.

  There was no pleasure, only pain as Saint slowly withdrew to the tip. He hissed and swore violently, rubbing his hand over his face as he took in the blood covering his cock. I could smell it, which meant everyone around us could as well. Slowly, he pushed back inside of me, and this time there was less of an ache, but it wasn’t comfortable either.

  Sex wasn’t sexy like the novels promised. It fucking hurt. Saint was entirely too large to be pleasurable. His thumb slid to my clit, rubbing small circles over it, his eyes never leaving mine. His deep chuckle made tears prick my eyes as shame tightened my chest. I sucked my lip between my teeth, pinching it as he exhaled, leaning over to enter my body fully.

  “There’s no way to make this painless. You’re way too fucking tight, which will limit the amount of pleasure you feel. Brae, fucking look at me,” Saint hissed, cupping my cheek. “Jesus fuck,” he swore when tears slid from my eyes, trickling down my cheeks.

  He flipped us, and I gasped, crying out as I stared down at him, impaled on his cock! I lifted, trying to escape him, but his hands captured my hips, using them to guide me. He examined my expression as I lowered my hands to his chest, needing to flee the pain.

  “Touch yourself,” he instructed. “Let me control your body, and you touch your pussy. Make it sing for me, Braelyn.”

  “It can’t sing because it fucking aches,” I snapped, frustrated that everything hurt. Smirking, Saint lifted his head to clasp my nipple between his teeth. His tongue rolled over the hardened peak, and I gasped.

  I could hear his men breathing outside the tent and knew they craved what was happening inside. It wasn’t helping the mood. My body was tense and locked tightly around his. Saint sat up, releasing his scent, and I shivered from the intensity of it. His mouth crushed against mine, and he went even deeper into my core, causing me to gasp and cry out as he swallowed the noises.

  I wrapped my hands around his shoulders for balance, slowly rocking against him to adjust to his size and ease the growing tension. It felt like he was tearing me apart from within, and a coil was unfurling. I relaxed my body, chasing the taste of pleasure as he devoured me. Saint started moving his hips once I’d settled, kissing me deeper, devouring my mouth like he was starving for oxygen, and I was his supply. He cupped my breast, moving his thumb over my nipple as he released my mouth to kiss my throat.

  I dropped my head back, giving him more access as I began sliding my body faster on his cock. My legs wrapped around his waist, and he pulled back, watching me ride him methodically. The heat in my belly was rolling toward my apex, growing hotter while I continually moved against him. I dug my nails into his flesh as my orgasm slowly unleashed.

  I cried out, opening my eyes to lock with Saint’s, and everything collided into a violent storm. Light filled my vision, blotching it with small, dark dots as he took control. He used my hips to grind me against him, thrusting harder. I whispered his name, lost in the pleasure he was giving me. The moment the orgasm began to fade, Saint shoved me onto the soft furs, pushing into my body, and I arched, allowing him further access.

  Saint’s chest was covered in sweat, even though our breath was sending soft clouds of steam into the air from the chill of autumn. He increased his speed, staring into my eyes with an intense look of possessiveness. Grunting, he exhaled, gazing down at me, and a soft smile played on his mouth before he moved to the side, pulling me against him.

  “If I had known you were a virgin, I’d have spent a lot more time preparing your body for me,” he admitted.

  “If I had told you I was, you wouldn’t have believed it,” I whispered.

  Resting my head on the crook of his arm, I closed my eyes as exhaustion took hold. The day had started like crap and then hit shit-show status when entirely too much big dick energy showed up. Saint adjusted me,
placing my head against his chest, forcing my heart to sync with his. My eyelashes fluttered against my cheeks, and heaviness filled my mind.

  I could feel the mating link settling in, the need to be close to him. It left us lost within ourselves; our bodies flush against one another while his crew was outside, protecting us. Once the link started, it was like a drug that forced you together, and yet I had no sudden urge to climb back on his cock, because fuck, that thing hurt.

  Chapter Seven

  Groaning loudly, I burrowed deeper into the heated body beside me. Lifting my head, I stared into blue-green eyes that smiled at me as I slowly woke up. I pulled away from Saint, but he pounced, landing on top of me as his hand covered my mouth. Lowering his lips against my ear, he rumbled low in a raspy voice.

  “Don’t make a sound, Brat,” he growled, pushing into my body.

  I trembled around him, groaning at the ache he’d left between my thighs. My body screamed at his abrupt entrance, which was already sore and achy from the three times he’d taken me throughout the night. I lifted my spine and wrapped my legs around his waist to adjust to his size. He growled, creating more arousal to ease his slow thrust as he studied me.

  His scent was heady, causing my stomach to clench as he methodically worked my body toward the precipice of release. Saint smiled, lowering his mouth against my ear as he grunted, rocking into my body’s welcoming heat.

  “If you make any noise, I will turn you over and fuck you until the entire pack knows exactly how you sound finding your pleasure, Princess,” he warned, removing his hand from my mouth to place it against the fur-covered ground.

  Saint thrust his body faster as I buried my lips into his throat, kissing it while he worked his shaft deeper into my sex. I parted my lips, kissing his shoulder, and my teeth started to descend, preparing to mark him. Sensing what I was about to do, he lifted his hand and slammed my face into the pillow, holding it down. His thrusts turned angry, slamming into my body without care for the pain he created.