The Alpha's Promise

by Renee Rose

  She fiddled with her phone in her lap, scheduling the Uber to take her to Jeremy’s cousin’s, then back to Colorado Springs that night. Yeah, it would cost a fortune, but it was worth it to be able to definitively put all this behind her.

  She’d deal with the rest of her life tomorrow.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cody prowled restlessly around his place while Mark unpacked weapons.

  “Twenty members of my pack will be here in a few hours,” Mark said. “I think that should be enough without you risking any from yours. I want everyone to stay in human form and use a gun. I can’t explain away torn throats and claw slashes a second time.”

  He nodded absently, not asking when the first time had been. Everywhere he looked he saw signs of Melissa’s stay. The rubber band she’d used to pull back her hair lay on the coffee table. She’d left the Chromebook he’d bought her in the kitchen, her clothes were stacked neatly folded on the dryer.

  “I’ll be in the garage if you need me,” he mumbled, needing to be alone.

  Dammit. He’d acted like an idiot. Had he really accused her of being a gold-digger? That wasn’t her, and he knew it. This was a woman who cared deeply about a piss-poor teen with blue hair, and about an abused shifter family she’d just met. A woman who said she’d never forgive his father for throwing him out. A woman who worried for her good-for-nothing ex-boyfriend who had endangered her life.

  Why had he kept his identity as CJ Steele a secret from her?

  The truth may be as simple as the fact he loved hearing her wax on about him. Did that mean she didn’t care about him, the person? That she only cared about some ideal she’d created in her mind about who CJ Steele was?

  Maybe.

  Maybe not. She loved his work. And he was the man who’d created that work. Could she come to love him? Her body certainly responded to his touch. And the times when she’d let her guard down—which admittedly, he hadn’t made easy—things had been easy between them. So easy, it might have scared the hell out of him. He’d never felt so close to a female, especially not one he’d just met. Especially not a human. Part human.

  Part shifter.

  But every time they got close, he had to shove her away. He’d been scornful, closed off, and a downright jackass on several occasions. Now that she had her sister and Stone back, she wouldn’t need him. He’d have no excuse to be near her, to keep her close to him.

  He should have marked her!

  But no, that wouldn’t change things for her. He’d still be in the same boat—needing a female who may not ever want to see him again.

  If only he’d shown even a smidgen of charm. Of chivalry. If only he’d made more of an effort to get to know her, or to show her more of himself. Instead he’d been prickly and defensive.

  Each minute that passed made him grow more agitated, as his true mate drew farther from him.

  His fingers worked mindlessly, tinkering with the Ducati. Cleaning and greasing the same parts over and over again.

  Minutes turned into hours. His mind fogged into a haze of self-abasement, alternating with the steely determination to win Melissa’s affection at all cost as soon as Rabago had been taken care of.

  The Denver pack began to arrive and he went inside to listen to Mark assigning roles and weapons.

  His phone rang and he looked at the screen. “It’s Stone,” he told Mark and swiped the screen to answer. “What’s up?”

  “Melissa’s gone.” Ben’s terse words send a sheet of ice over his skin.

  “Where?” he croaked.

  “I don’t know. Ashley thinks she’s headed back to the Springs for some reason. Be on the lookout.”

  She was going to the meet. The thought struck him with the surety of truth.

  “Hang on a minute.”

  That duffel bag she’d left with—what had been in it? He’d seen all the things he’d bought her still lying around his place. He strode quickly to the closet where he’d stowed the cash and flung it open. The bag stood empty.

  Fuck.

  “She took the money. She’s planning on going to the drop herself.”

  Ben swore loudly.

  “I’ll take care of it.” He hung up before Ben could answer. There was nothing more to be said. Melissa would be walking into a death trap without enough shifter blood to save her from a bullet hole. He had to get there and head her off before she got killed. “Let’s move,” he barked, though he had no authority over Ben’s pack.

  He shoved a gun in the waistband of his jeans and jogged out to his truck, gunning it before the rest of the pack had finished filing outside. He tore off toward the meet location—the only place he could think to find her.

  Mark’s original plan had been to get his pack in stealthily, without being seen. Maybe he’d still play that angle. All Cody knew was that he had to get there before Melissa did. With his foot pressed flat to the accelerator, he screeched to the road that led to the abandoned lot Rabago had designated for the meeting. He hid his truck behind a hedge out on the road, not wanting to call attention to his arrival.

  Hearing the crunch of tires, he shrank back into the shadows. The blue Range Rover that had been parked in front of Melissa’s house that first night turned down the drive and he dived into a nearby ditch to hide. Two more cars followed it down the drive.

  He fought the desire to shift to protect himself and his female and jogged along the ditch that led toward the lot.

  The white Toyota pickup truck that had also been in front of Melissa’s house was parked there, along with the blue Range Rover and other cars. Was the pickup Melissa’s vehicle? He hadn’t pictured her as the sort of girl who drove a pickup, but then, he’d misjudged her in at least a half-dozen ways, hadn’t he?

  The lot appeared to be a construction project that had never been finished. The concrete foundation and shell stood ghost-like against the dusky sky. He palmed his gun and moved quietly, skirting around behind the building.

  Deep male voices echoed off the walls, distorting the sound and making it harder for him to track their location. They appeared to be dividing up, circling around.

  “Hello?”

  His heart stopped. It was Melissa’s tight voice, calling out.

  “We’re here. We have the money. Jeremy recovered it for you.” Her voice wavered on the lie.

  “Yeah, I got it back from the guys who robbed you.”

  Who the fuck was that? Jeremy?

  He ground his molars, wanting to kill the motherfucker. Had Melissa’s intent been to make sure Jeremy came out of his mess clean? Was that why she’d risked her life to come here today? That bastard did not deserve her loyalty.

  “Get down on your knees, hands behind your head,” Rabago shouted.

  Cody still couldn’t see anyone, but it didn’t sound like they were in the same area. He crept along a concrete wall and peered around a pillar. Melissa and Jeremy were on their knees, fingers clasped behind their heads. The duffel bag of money lay in front of them.

  Shit.

  This was bad. Rabago would shoot them both the second he verified the money was there and there was nothing Cody could do—not with Melissa so vulnerable.

  He scented shifters all around—they must be moving in quietly.

  Rabago and four men stepped into the area from all directions, surrounding Melissa and Jeremy, guns trained on their heads.

  “Check it out.” Rabago jerked his head toward the money.

  One of his guys darted forward, running on bent knees, keeping his head ducked until he reached the bag. He grabbed it and dragged it back before looking inside. “Yeah, looks like it’s all here.”

  Fuck.

  Melissa’s nostrils flared and she turned her head in his direction, as if she scented him. But that was impossible.

  Rabago saw her head turn and whipped his gun around to aim in Cody’s direction, firing.

  “Melissa, get down,” he shouted and jumped out, firing at Rabago and missing when the guy jumped behind
a pillar. The crack of guns shooting from all directions echoed off the walls, deafening him.

  Melissa and Jeremy dropped to the floor. The man with the money had been shot, and Jeremy crept toward the bag on his belly.

  Cody bolted for Melissa, taking two bullets to the chest.

  “No!” She lunged for him, horror streaking her features.

  Her scream and the bullet wounds almost forced the change upon him, but he had to stay in human form if he wanted to help her. He tackled her back down to the floor and laid on her, keeping his head down.

  “No,” she sobbed. “Oh, God, no. Cody—”

  “Hush, baby. Don’t move.”

  She choked on her sob, stifling it in surprise. The silly female must have thought he was dying.

  Jeremy almost took a bullet to the head—it struck the ground beside him.

  Cody fired at Jeremy’s shooter—Rabago. He got him right in the center of the forehead. He could thank his father for the ten years of target practice and hunting in his childhood.

  The explosions of gunfire subsided and shifters ran through the area, looking as organized as trained militia.

  Sirens sounded in the distance and Mark pulled out his phone. “Disappear, all but you three,” he ordered, pointing at Jeremy, Cody, and Melissa.

  Cody eased his weight off his female and helped her to her feet. “Are you all right, baby? Are you hurt?”

  She shook her head, her lips forming into speech but no sound coming out. “Y-you’re… shot? Okay. Right? Bleeding.”

  Poor baby. He pulled her against his side, holding her tight with one arm as he kept his gun loosely held with his free hand. “I’m fine. Unless it’s a bullet to the head, shifters bounce right back.” He kissed her hair. Her reaction to his bullet wounds had been forever imprinted in his mind.

  She loved him.

  Jeremy attempted to crawl to his feet, but Mark pointed his gun at him. “You stay on the fucking floor. Face down, hands behind your head.”

  Jeremy complied. The sirens grew louder.

  “This is going to be a cluster fuck. Try to let me do the talking, all right?” Mark muttered. “Drop your gun, Steele.”

  He dropped the gun and wrapped both arms around Melissa. Her body trembled against his. “Shh. It’s okay. It’s over now. Everything’s going to be fine,” he murmured against her hair.

  She shivered against him and pressed her body closer.

  “I’ve got you, baby. I’m not letting go.”

  Not now. Not ever. Not for anything.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Mark Ruhl somehow managed to allow her and Cody to walk away after giving their statements, without having to go into the police station. Jeremy was not so lucky. But hey, he was alive. Beyond that, it wasn’t her problem.

  Cody held her snugly against her side the entire time, and now walked her to her truck. He opened the passenger door for her, though, and held out his hand for the keys.

  Another time she might have argued. Right now, she could hardly form sentences, and the sight of Cody’s blood-drenched clothing kept reminding her of the horror of the moment when she thought he’d been killed.

  She should have known he was all right. Should have remembered from Ashley’s story of Ben getting shot when she’d been blackmailed, but all she knew in the moment was white dread. Terrifying, heart-stopping fear that Cody had been murdered. Because of her. And in the shock of the moment, her greatest regret had been that he would die not knowing what he meant to her.

  She climbed in the truck and sat, numbly waiting as Cody started it up and drove back into town. She didn’t register their direction, or anything around her. Her ears still rang from the gunfire and the images of death flashed in front of her eyes in gruesome repetition.

  “Cody…” Her voice cracked. She had to try to tell him—to make amends for the things she’d said. “I never thought you were… just a construction worker.” Her tongue felt too big in her mouth. Pressure built behind her eyes and nose. “I’m sorry—”

  “Hush, baby. I know.”

  “No, please… I want you to know something.”

  He turned to look at her, his face weary, eyes haunted. “What, baby?”

  “I was bluffing,” she whispered. “When I said it was just sex. Every time I pushed you away. You were too much my type and I was afraid of making another mistake, but I never thought you were beneath me.”

  Cody parked the truck and reached over to squeeze her fingers. She looked out the window, not recognizing the place. They were in the Old North End neighborhood, but not on his street. A huge Victorian brick house stood on a recently landscaped lot. The house had a worn look. Some of the siding trim had rotted in places, and it desperately needed a new roof and a several coats of paint.

  “Where are we?”

  Cody didn’t answer, but he walked around and opened her door for her, offering a hand to help her out. He tucked her back against his side and walked her to the door, pulling out his keys and fitting one into the lock.

  “Is this one of your houses?”

  “Yeah.” He led her inside.

  Her realtor’s instincts kicked in, a blessed diversion from the shock of the scene they’d just left behind. She made mental notes about what would need to be done to make the place livable and how much it would deduct from the selling price. But no, if Cody owned this place, he would fix it up himself. Which meant he’d probably list this place for at least eight hundred thousand dollars. Way, way out of her range.

  “It’s not finished yet—obviously. I’m just getting started. But this is the house I thought you might like. It’s the reason I didn’t accept your offer on the other one.”

  She felt like her brain just couldn’t get in gear. “I don’t understand.”

  Cody released her, stepping back to rub his forehead. “It’s bigger, see. Something we could grow into.”

  “We?”

  Misery seeped into the lines on Cody’s face. “Or you can have the other one, if you like it better. Or my place.” His shoulders sagged. “You can have any house you want. Melissa—”

  Tears pooled in her eyes. She drew a shaky breath, but didn’t speak, wanting to be sure she understood what Cody was saying.

  He lurched forward and caught both her hands. “Please don’t cry. I need you, baby.” He spun her and wrapped both his arms around her from behind. “This house, princess,” he whispered, his breath feathering across her ear. “I’ll make it perfect for you. For us, if you’ll have me. There’s room enough for pups, here. Lots of them if you want.”

  Something fluttered in her chest. The hope she’d been afraid to let herself feel. She laughed through the tears streaking her face. “I do want lots of them. At least three.”

  Cody stilled, then turned her slowly in his arms to face him. “Yeah?”

  She nodded.

  “With me?”

  She cocked her head to the side. “Well, I was thinking I might live in your house but invite Jeremy—”

  The inhuman growl from his throat made her shriek as he plowed her against the wall and covered her mouth with his own, swallowing her laughter. His tongue lashed into her mouth as he yanked her knees up to his waist, pressing his bulging cock against her sex.

  “That’s not funny,” he growled. He shoved two fingers in her mouth while his hips ground against her.

  She sucked his fingers, heat flooding her core.

  “Don’t you ever say that name to me again.” He yanked at the waistband of her jeans.

  “Wait,” she cried, afraid he’d rip them right off her body. “I’ll take them off.”

  His eyes had turned pale blue. “I’m going to fuck that name right out of your consciousness. Understand?”

  She almost orgasmed right there, just from his possessive threat. Her fingers fumbled on the button of her jeans and she shoved them down her hips.

  He removed his fingers from her mouth and glowered. “Now, Melissa.” Were his canines longer?
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br />   She ought to be afraid. He definitely might hurt her. Except she didn’t care. She wanted him to hurt her. Wanted him to claim her, own her, demand every last bit of her. With a couple of hops on one leg, she managed to untangle herself from the jeans and panties.

  Before she’d even stood, Cody had her pinned back against the wall, shirt up to her neck, bra down. His lips clamped around one nipple and he sucked hard, teeth scraping across her sensitive flesh.

  She screamed.

  “Who do you belong to?” His guttural demand sent a fresh lurch of desire shooting through her. He yanked open his jeans to free his cock. “I can’t stop now,” he grated and shoved into her without warning.

  She shuddered, clenching around him. He snapped his hips and thrust again and again, while she continued to climax.

  “Who do you belong to?” He roared it this time. “Say it.”

  “You! Cody Steele. Only you.”

  His teeth had definitely grown longer. She must’ve looked frightened, because he covered her eyes with his hand. “Don’t look,” he panted. “Don’t move. Oh, God, please don’t move.” He sounded like he was in pain. Her pelvis banged against the wall behind her with bruising force as he fucked her hard and fast. “I can’t stop,” he moaned. “I don’t want to hurt you, baby.”

  With her vision obscured, her need became even more intense. She pounded her fist on his rock-hard shoulder. “Do it,” she yelled.

  He shoved in deep. A sharp, knifelike pain sliced into her shoulder, front and back.

  She screamed in pain.

  His body shuddered and jerked, then gradually relaxed. The teeth came out and he licked the wound he’d inflicted, laving away the pain.

  Her internal muscles still fluttered around his cock, but she, too, had relaxed, and a terrific sense of well-being filled her. She remembered Ashley saying the serum coating his teeth—the serum that had just marked her forever as his—produced a drug-like effect to ease her pain.