Alpha's Forbidden Mate

by Alice Cain

  Honestly, there may be one or two genuine supporters in there somewhere, but they're being drowned beneath the tsunami of hatred and vile threats. I can't believe I've lived in this world for so long without realizing just how awful it must be for werewolves.

  In retrospect I'm also damn glad that I chose paranoia and was using a VPN even before the first death threats started arriving in my inbox. At least by obscuring my IP address the senders are unlikely to physically turn up on my doorstep to follow through on their terrifyingly detailed promises.

  Of course, as an experienced investigative reporter and a person computer-literate enough to know that nothing on the Internet is truly private, I'm a little more worried than I care to admit. Even to myself.

  I'm still trying to assure my sometimes-overactive imagination that my anonymity will protect me when there is an unexpected knock on my front door. I'm already annoyed by my response even before I jolt nervously.

  Silently berating myself for the overreaction, I nevertheless check through the peephole first. When I realize who it is, I quickly unlock the door and drag my werewolf inside.

  Darrick seems a little startled by the manhandling, but he doesn't try to stop me, and he sure as hell throws his enthusiasm behind the kiss we share as I press him hard against the closed door.

  When we're finally out of oxygen I break the kiss and lean in to rest my forehead against Darrick's shoulder. I shudder slightly in reaction to the werewolf's gentle caress over my head and neck. Despite what must have been a shock, Darrick has remained calm and silent, holding me close as I fight to regain control of my emotions.

  "I'm sorry." The words drop from my lips before I even really consider saying them.

  "It's okay," Darrick says, his voice cracking as he whispers the words and tightens his hold.

  "No, it's not okay," I deny even as I try to contain the anger and helplessness that I feel. "The way werewolves have been treated..."

  "Whoa," Darrick says, lifting his hands to my face and gently easing me back so that I can no longer hide my expression. "It's not up to you to apologize on behalf of the human race. You've done nothing wrong."

  "Haven't done much right either," I mumble, unable to forgive myself for what was essentially willful ignorance. Once I'd gone looking for answers I'd found a whole slew of information hidden in the bowels of the Internet. But by far the worst part has been discovering just how many links have been hidden or broken when it comes to positive stories on werewolves.

  I've always known there is a certain amount of censorship on the Internet. I even understand why parents would want to keep their children from discovering some of the more violent or sexualized images, but when does "protecting people" become "denial of information?"

  What right does anyone have to decide what everyone else should or shouldn't know?

  I'm still shaking just a little when Darrick guides me toward the sofa without stepping out of my embrace. Unwilling to let go just yet, I pull him down with me, and sigh with relief when he lets me arrange him in my lap, his ear pressed against my heart.

  It takes probably another five minutes of silent smothering cuddle before I remember everything I've read about werewolves who are the alphas of their packs.

  "Shit, sorry," I say, trying to ease myself out from under Darrick.

  "What are you apologizing for now?" Darrick asks warily, even as he lets me put distance between us.

  "I read... Well I've been researching..." And now that I'm blurting out the words I find myself wondering if what I read about alphas was accurate. Everything else on the Internet has multiple opinions and conflicting information. Why should articles on alpha werewolves be any different? "I started a blog..."

  "A blog?" Darrick asks as if he's never heard the word.

  "Yeah, it's um... kind of like a newspaper on the Inter—"

  Darrick cuts me off with a shake of his head. "I know what a blog is," he says with a confused smile. "What I don't know is what it has to do with you pushing me away."

  I'm upsetting him with my dithering so I kind of blurt out everything I read on alpha werewolves. It's quite a lot actually—most of it on how pack alpha's need to be in charge and are unable to submit their control to anyone—so by the time I'm finished Darrick is biting his lips together in what I guess is his way of trying not to smile. The heat of embarrassment slides over me even as Darrick slowly moves back to where he was cuddled against me. He presses a soft kiss to my lips before sitting back slightly in order to meet my gaze.

  "I can't speak for other alphas," he says finally, "but I know that's not what I want. Not from you."

  "Oh," I say, trying to understand what he means, "so...um...you're not angry at me for the... ah... way I answered the door?"

  I can feel as well as hear Darrick's soft laugh. "I quite enjoyed it actually."

  "I'll keep that in mind," I say, relieved to know that I haven't offended him. I've spent so much time in the past week traipsing through endless information on werewolves that I guess I forgot that I do know at least a little bit about this man in my arms. "I'm glad you came."

  "Me too," Darrick says sleepily, snuggling closer. "Missed you."

  I missed him more than I can say. Considering how long we were apart before running into each other at the rally last week, admitting out loud just how much might even be a little embarrassing.

  After a few moments of silently arguing with myself, I finally realize that Darrick is almost completely relaxed. I use a single finger to sweep aside the longish, dark curls covering his eyes and get my first real look at the dark circles surrounding them. "You okay?" I ask, unable to hide my concern.

  "Just sleepy," Darrick says, trying to hold back a yawn and failing spectacularly. "Sorry. It's a long drive."

  I nod in acknowledgement, but I doubt that's the only reason for his exhaustion.

  "When was the last time you slept?" I ask quietly, willing to forgo an answer if he's already unconscious.

  Unfortunately my question seems to wake him from his drowsiness. "Sorry," he says again, wriggling as if he plans to move away. I tighten my hold even knowing that, despite me being nearly a foot taller, Darrick's strength far outclasses my own. I'm very relieved when he relaxes back against my chest. "It's been a long week."

  "How long, Rick?" I ask, concerned by his vague answer.

  ~*~*~*~*~

  *** Darrick ***

  I don't want to admit that I have barely slept since I was in this apartment last, but if I want the deep connection of a true mating it has to start with honesty.

  Cursing myself silently for not stopping for a caffeine fix before I got here—and therefore being able to avoid this conversation altogether—I sit up just enough so that my mate can see my face clearly. I have to stifle yet another damn yawn, but I do manage to give him a wry smile. "I haven't slept properly since I was here last week."

  "No wonder you look like shit," John says, laughing softly. I'm grateful for his humor, but I can scent his concern underneath the light tone.

  "I'm okay," I say, yawning again now that I'm exactly where I want to be—in my mate's embrace. "But I wouldn't say no to a few hours sleep."

  "Take the bed," he says, moving as if he plans to carry me princess-style into his room. "I have a few more hours of work to get through."

  I hadn't even considered that. For some reason I simply assumed that journalism was a nine-to-five sort of thing. "Sorry," I say, silently wishing I'd done things differently. "I can come back another time, if you prefer."

  "Hell no," John says, this time following through on lifting me off the couch. "I spent all week thinking about you. You're not getting away from me now."

  I can't hide the grin when he drops me into the middle of the bed.

  "Strip off," John says as he turns toward the exit. "I'll be back in a minute."

  "Such a romantic," I tease, toying with the top button of my jeans. "Wouldn't you like to help me get naked?"

  "If I help
you," John says, smiling wryly when he turns back to look at me, "no sleeping will get done." His smile turns a little bit sad when he adds, "And you look like you really need some sleep, Ricky."

  I nod slowly, a little bit annoyed to have sexy times delayed, but also incredibly grateful that my mate sees enough to notice my need for sleep. I love my pack and I will always take my position as alpha very seriously, but it is nice to spend time with someone who simply sees me.

  Tiredly I strip down to my boxer shorts and then crawl under the blankets and settle my head against the pillow. I inhale deeply, letting my mate's scent surround me as I finally surrender to my body's need for rest.

  ~*~*~*~*~

  ** John **

  I'm not gone long, but Darrick is sound asleep by the time I return to the bedroom. I've brought my laptop and the notes I'll need to finish my work while he sleeps. I try not to overthink it—which is damn near impossible for an investigative journalist—but having Darrick close enough to touch just seems right.

  Careful not to jostle the man sleeping in my bed, I slowly ease onto the mattress and lean against the padded headboard. Darrick's nose twitches before he sleepily shuffles a little closer. I can't resist the need to run my fingers gently over his hair. Asleep he looks so much like the boy I remember that it's difficult to recall that it's been more than twenty years.

  I was feeling so overwhelmed half an hour ago, my fear for Darrick's safety clawing at me despite knowing that he's been dealing with the current political and social situation almost his entire life. He's gotten this far without me to protect him, but the thought only makes me feel guilty for not making contact sooner.

  Unlike Darrick, I've always known where my old high school boyfriend lives.

  Even sound asleep he seeks my warmth, snuggling closer until his head is pillowed on my thigh. I can't work like this and right now I really don't want to, so I easily give up on the idea and close my laptop. It takes a bit more wriggling than I hoped, but I eventually manage to slide down the mattress without jostling Darrick too much. He makes a grumpy noise but settles quickly when I arrange him against my side, his head now pillowed on my shoulder, my arm behind his back holding him close.

  The blankets are still between us—and for a moment I curse my lack of forward planning—but it's probably better this way. If I fall asleep as well at least I won't do something embarrassing like forcefully spooning him while rubbing my hard cock against his ass.

  Several hours later I slowly wake to find myself doing just that. Darrick has worked his way above the covers so the only thing now separating us is a few layers of soft cotton. I continue to thrust lazily for a few more seconds before I realize that Darrick is completely relaxed and probably still asleep.

  He's not participating or reacting in any way, so I really, really should not be doing what I'm doing. My whole body protests as I carefully put some distance between us, but it's the soft sound of disappointment that has me jolting in surprise.

  "Darrick?" I whisper, wondering if he's still asleep.

  "Please don't stop," Darrick begs quietly, his voice breaking in the middle of his words.

  I'm not quite sure how to explain what I'm feeling right now. "You...um... You didn't seem to be enjoying it."

  "Oh," Darrick says on a soft exhale. "I... I guess you need..." He rolls onto his back and gives me an embarrassed smile. "Sorry."

  "Why are you sorry?" I ask, confused by his reaction. Darrick runs a hand down his face and tries a reassuring smile. I'm not reassured at all. "Ricky?"

  "How much research on werewolves did you actually do?" he asks, the question seemingly out of the blue.

  I shrug. I read through a lot of conflicting information, and right now have no idea what to believe.

  "Do you know that a werewolf pack works kind of like a huge family? Everyone is accepted and loved and protected."

  I nod. I'm pretty sure it's not nearly as simple as that, but I do remember the way things were when I lived in the same town. At the time it had felt as if half the kids at school were somehow related. Thinking back now I can almost identify which of my classmates were werewolves. To be honest it had often left me feeling as if I was on the outside looking in, even when I'd been dating Darrick.

  "Pack alphas," Darrick continues, blushing slightly and unable to meet my gaze, "are highly respected. Pack members never question the alpha's decisions. No one disagrees, even when the decisions being made are seriously...well, questionable."

  I have no idea why he's telling me this. I also know it's not entirely true since he already told me he challenged his father's position as pack alpha when he disagreed with him. I have no idea what to say so I simply nod again and wait for more information.

  "I'm the leader and protector and mediator. I'm responsible for the financial prosperity of the entire pack," Darrick says quietly and then falls silent as if he can't find the words to get to the point he's trying to make. After a few moments he adds, "Every decision I make has to be in the best interests of the pack. The alpha is the werewolf who holds everything together."

  I'm probably frowning as I try to understand what Darrick is attempting to tell me, but then it's as if a cartoon light bulb switches on above my head.

  "But you don't actually belong," I suggest slowly. "The pack needs you to be strong and confident and...infallible." Darrick winces at my word choice, but nods his agreement. It takes me a few more moments to realize how this relates back to me humping him in my sleep. "But with me you can relax. You can belong and not worry and let me make the decisions for you."

  "Maybe not all the decisions," Darrick says, blushing adorably. "But yeah, you're the only person I've ever felt truly comfortable around."

  It's a little bit frightening how much the idea appeals to me. A few years ago I did an investigation into a couple of sex clubs in the area. At the time I'd been hoping for a juicy scandal to write about. What I'd found instead had been far more life changing.

  But a relationship like the one Darrick seems to be proposing takes a lot of trust, and despite how comfortable we seem together right now, I haven't forgotten that we barely know each other. A few hours ago I hadn't even been certain I would ever see this man again.

  I lean over Darrick and press a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. "Can we take things slowly? Maybe build up to what we both want?" I run my fingertip down the side of his face, smiling when I realize the coarse-looking stubble is far softer than it seems. "I want to fuck you," I say, groaning softly when his pupils dilate with his arousal, "but I don't know what you like yet so I'm going to need feedback."

  He laughs softly at my choice of words. I guess it does sound rather like a "customer satisfaction survey" when I phrase it like that, but I need this. I need his honest reactions to know what to do again and what to avoid next time.

  "Both of us need to be comfortable," Darrick agrees with a nod, still smiling. "I'm willing to work at it to find a middle ground."

  "Me too," I say, leaning over to kiss him again. This kiss is far more carnal and grows heated very quickly. By the time I pull away we're both breathing hard. I can't resist running my hand down his abs, groaning softly as the muscles tighten and reveal a very impressive six-pack. "Want to taste you."

  Darrick's soft moan makes me grin as I slide a little further down the bed and press a kiss against the material straining to contain his solid cock. He wriggles impatiently, his hands moving to the waistband of his boxers as if to remove them for me. I grab his wrists and press them to the mattress, pinning him down and watching his reaction to being restrained. I know he can break my hold, so it's even more gratifying when he goes pliant, whimpering softly as pre-cum begins to darken the material of his shorts.

  I lean in and nuzzle my nose against the base of his cock, my grin growing feral when he opens his legs wider, straining the fabric of his boxer shorts.

  "Show me your claws," I say, still holding his wrists against the mattress. He gives me a worried frown, but I w
ait him out, unwilling to ignore the fact that Darrick is a werewolf. I won't ask him to hide from me in a misguided attempt to pretend we're both human. If we're going to explore a Dom-sub type of relationship between us, then we are going to explore everything about both of us.

  My arousal grows simply at the thought of learning his secrets, his most intimate desires. Darrick groans in reply and I realize that he's probably interpreting my scent. I can definitely work with that.

  "That's it, Ricky," I say, lifting his clawed hand off the mattress to inspect it more closely. "They look wickedly sharp."

  "They are," he says, his breathless voice possibly from both arousal and a touch of fear. I know he doesn't want to risk hurting me.

  "Are they sharp enough to cut through material?" I ask, dropping my gaze to his rock-hard cock.

  His discomfort eases momentarily as he understands what I want, so I guide his hand to the leg of his boxer shorts and watch, fascinated, as he slices through the material with ease. He retracts the claws the moment it's done and while I understand his need to protect me, I'm also a little sad that he's so uncomfortable showing his werewolf form.

  Of course, I'm far too busy being distracted by his beautiful cock mere inches from my face to worry about that in too much detail right now.

  I lean down and run my tongue up the length of his erection, cataloguing and savoring every response Darrick makes, his breath catching when I finally reach the head and lick away the glistening pre-cum.

  "Delicious," I whisper before opening my mouth wider and resting the head of his cock on my tongue. He starts to writhe when I close my lips around him, sucking him deep and pressing my tongue against the glans, trapping him hard against the roof of my mouth. He takes a gasping breath, whimpering slightly, and for a moment I worry that I'm hurting him, but then another burst of pre-cum fills my mouth and I groan at the realization.