Alphas After Dark (9 Book Bundle of Sexy Alpha Biker Bad Boys)

by Vivian Arend

  Cooper’s motions grew erratic. He gripped my ass with both hands—almost paws now—and lost himself inside of me.

  And then he came.

  His claws dug into the tender skin of my hips. I twisted so that I could watch him throw his head back and roar, the muscles of his neck bulging, veins cording his chest. The sight of him coming inside of me—the feel of his hot seed filling my body—sent me over the edge again.

  I howled with him, mind whirling, skin aflame. I felt nothing but the places our bodies joined. I felt everything.

  I was his bitch, and I loved it.

  Spent, Cooper collapsed on my back, flattening me to the floor with his knot still inside. Even though I could feel him shapeshifting, he wasn’t thrashing. No longer in any pain. The change breezed over him. He groaned softly against the back of my neck, cock twitching in my tight cunt.

  I drifted in a post-orgasmic haze, only half-aware of the fact that Mad Dog was changing faster, too. All that seemed to matter was that Cooper was finally beginning to soften. Pulling free of my body as he finished the change. I wanted to see what he had become, but I didn’t want to have to move. I loved being under him.

  Mad Dog gave a grunt of pain. “Can’t keep an eye on you. Gotta run.”

  “It’s okay,” I mumbled. “I’m safe here.” I had never felt safer in my life.

  The other biker slammed out the doors of the shed, leaving them open to the moonless night. The smattering of stars looked unusually vivid tonight. Or maybe it was just because I felt so alive.

  Cooper withdrew from me. His breathing and soft growling sounded different. I rolled onto my back to behold him.

  He was almost completely wolf. His knees were still oriented like a human’s. His arms were still a little too muscular, his chest too broad. But he had long fur all over his body, a muzzle, golden eyes, a tail. I could tell that he wouldn’t be able to walk upright. But he was still Cooper. I could see the man within those golden eyes.

  I smiled and stretched my arms above my head, enjoying the pop of my spine. “Looking good.”

  He lowered his head between my legs and gently licked my tender core. I ached from his mating, soaked by both of our fluids. It sent a shiver through me.

  Howls rose in the night, echoing over the desert. The pack was calling to him.

  Cooper nosed my chin, huffing his warm breath through my hair, and I hugged the ruff of fur ringing his neck. “Go ahead,” I said, pressing a kiss to his muzzle.

  The werewolf padded out of the shed, leaving his chains behind.

  Free.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  I dozed in my trailer, only half-asleep. The bar fell quiet not long after midnight—guess most men weren’t stupid enough to climb into a cage with werewolves after they had shifted shapes. I wondered how many of them had survived the fight. I wondered how many Big Papa would be delivering to the Silver Needles.

  I wondered if it mattered anymore.

  Werewolf howls echoed over the desert, drifting through my open window on a cool breeze. They chased through my dreams.

  Curled up in bed, my mind was filled with images of thickly-wooded forests. I dreamed of racing naked through the trees. I dreamed of being pounced upon by a wolf twice my size and having his cock forced into me, pushing against my tightness, claiming my body. I think I came in my sleep more than once.

  The first light of dawn woke me from the haze.

  My whole body ached from the night before. I stretched out, smiling even as I groaned.

  This was a kind of hurt I could get used to.

  As I extended my arms, my hand brushed against something plasticky. Somehow, The Devil had made it onto my pillow during the night. I hadn’t put it there. The sight of it made my smile vanish.

  “But we’re both free,” I told the satyr. “It’s over. You can go away now.”

  The card didn’t budge.

  It took the edge off my glow, but just barely. I padded out of bed. Dropped my sticky thong on the floor. I hadn’t taken the time to bathe before sleeping—I’d been too exhausted.

  Now I climbed in my shower stall and let the lukewarm water course over me. I had gotten some of Peyton’s blood smeared on me when I was rubbing against Cooper. I also had a little blood between my inner thighs. Guess Cooper had torn something when we were knotted together. I didn’t mind.

  My fingers played at the juncture of my legs, flicking the swollen bud of my clit. I was ready again. Flushed with blood and eager.

  I wanted to find Cooper as soon as he changed back.

  Toweling off, I dressed myself in clean jeans and a tube top before heading out into the sagebrush. It was still early enough that all the shadows were blue even as the sky flamed orange with sunrise.

  The camp across the road was quiet. The bar’s generator had been turned off. No wolves were howling.

  Everything was silent.

  “Cooper,” I whispered. “Where are you?”

  A shape moved toward the hills. My heart skipped a beat, and I moved to intercept him.

  But it wasn’t Cooper.

  Big Papa was naked and impressive. His chest, arms, and shoulders were covered in a thick mat of hair—not fur, just normal human hair grown more dense than the cheap shag carpeting in my trailer. His dick hung heavy between his legs. His feet were dirty. His empty eye socket was a little bloody.

  “Huh,” he grunted when he saw me. “There you are. This makes it easy.”

  Unease crept over me. “Thanks for not telling the Needles about me,” I said, trying not to sound meek and failing. “I know I haven’t told you yet, but I appreciate it.”

  Big Papa snorted. “You think I did that out of benevolence?”

  “I don’t know, but I hoped—”

  “You heard what the Needles wanted,” he said. “They wanted feeders that could heal any amount of torture and survive any amount of energy drain.” His eye sharpened. “And they wanted you.”

  My stomach flipped. Yeah, I’d already heard them talk about that, but having that specifically addressed to me was a slap in the face.

  “There’s something special about you.” He lumbered toward me, and I couldn’t help myself—I took a big step back. “Trouble smells it. Mad Dog smells it. I didn’t smell it at first, but now I do. You’re delicious.” The word rolled over his tongue. I felt violated just listening to it. “No wonder they want you just as bad as they want their invulnerable food source.”

  “I’m just a bartender,” I said.

  “You’re more than that. The Needles know what you are, but they aren’t talking. They’re just offering lots of money. Drugs. And free reign of Los Angeles.” He lumbered toward me. I could smell his sweat on the wind. “I don’t think any of that’s as valuable as you.”

  “You can’t sell me,” I spat. “I don’t belong to you.”

  “But you belong to Trouble now, and he belongs to me.” There was no delight or doubt in his voice. He didn’t take any pleasure in the idea of owning Cooper and me; that was simply what he believed to be the truth. We were commodities. He could do whatever he wanted with us.

  Including selling me back to the demons that had tortured me.

  Fear seized me, and I had no choice but to run, like a jackrabbit fleeing the coyote. I knew I could never run fast enough to escape. But I had to do it.

  I hurled myself across the desert, fists pumping and chest heaving.

  Big Papa didn’t follow immediately. He allowed me a head start. That made it so much worse—he knew that he could grab me at any moment.

  I’d gotten halfway back to my trailer before I heard him move. The sound of him rustling through the sagebrush made me feel like I was going to have a heart attack. Just drop dead on the spot.

  Yet somehow, I made it to my door. I jumped inside. Closed and locked it behind me.

  Big Papa slammed into my trailer. The wards didn’t let him in, but the walls creaked. He didn’t need to get through my magic if he could just blow my
house down like the big bad wolf that he was. If he pulverized the anchors I used to hold the spell in place, I wouldn’t stand a chance.

  Little Bo Peep was propped up in the corner of my living room. I grabbed her and the silver buckshot that Gloria had given me. Double-aught was man-stopping stuff. It had to be good enough for a werewolf. Somehow, I managed not to drop it as I loaded the rounds, then braced Bo Peep against my shoulder.

  My heart jackhammered against my breastbone as I waited for Big Papa to break through.

  But he’d stopped beating his fists.

  I backed up to the wall, holding my breath. My eyes flicked to the windows on either side of the door. I didn’t see his shadow moving over my rooster-print curtains.

  Where had he gone?

  Crash.

  The glass behind me shattered. Hands punched through my window and closed on my shoulders. I screamed and tried to wrench away—too late. He had my braids in his fists. He yanked me off my feet.

  Bo Peep slipped from my hands and hit the carpet.

  “No!”

  The hands climbed down my shirt, grabbed me underneath my armpits, hauled me through the broken window. Glass scraped at my bare shoulders. I grabbed a shard even as it sliced me open—a big piece as long as my middle finger. It cut into my palm. Blood flowed down my wrist.

  He put me in a headlock, cutting off my oxygen. The crystal-clear desert starlight swirled around me.

  I buried the glass in his forearm. The responding roar wasn’t in Big Papa’s voice.

  The man released me, and I hit the ground on my knees. I should have run—I knew I should have run—but I was too shocked to move.

  I gazed up at Cooper as he wrenched the glass out of the muscle of his arm. For a hopeful moment, I thought that he had come to save me. But then I realized that Big Papa was standing behind him calmly.

  Big Papa hadn’t had to break my wards. He’d just ordered Cooper to grab me, knowing he’d be able to get through.

  And Cooper had obeyed.

  I’d just given myself to this man the night before, let him take me as he shifted, and he fucking obeyed Big Papa.

  “Tie her up,” Big Papa said, tossing the chains at Cooper.

  He stepped toward me, face twisted with self-loathing, pain in every line of his body. “I’m sorry, Ofelia. I don’t have a choice.”

  This was what the tarot card had depicted—this exact moment, when Cooper chose to follow his Alpha’s orders, chaining both of us to the whims of The Devil. I’d been wrong to think we were liberated. I’d celebrated our freedom too early. The card on my pillow that morning had been a warning and I’d missed it.

  “Please don’t,” I whimpered.

  Then his hands were on me, and I was in bondage.

  I hadn’t been to The Lodge since first arriving in Lobo Norte, and I was shocked that Big Papa took me there instead of straight to the Silver Needles. The room smelled like decades of tobacco smoke and crack. Its decorations were straight from the sixties. The patterned wallpaper had been plastered over the outlets, the light fixtures were rusted, and the kitchenette had the kind of stove that Abuelita would have used when she was my age.

  Cooper set me on the bed as gently as he could. At another time, I could have gotten into the idea of being chained up in a scuzzy motel with him, but I didn’t do exhibitionism when the voyeur was Big Papa.

  Something in the room smelled awful—something more than just the stink of tobacco. I twisted, trying to see what, but couldn’t.

  “Leave the room, Trouble,” Big Papa ordered.

  I didn’t want to be alone with him, but I didn’t bother pleading with Cooper. I knew what he was going to do.

  And he did. He left me.

  I glared at Big Papa with my arms tied behind my back, chains jingling softly as I twisted my wrists. I wasn’t going to let him give me to the Needles. No matter what happened, I wasn’t going back with them.

  “I’ll do anything,” I said, forcing my voice to soften. “Anything at all. Just don’t sell me to the Needles.”

  He slapped me hard—much harder than Gloria ever did. It was like being swiped by a bear paw. I saw stars. “I’m not selling you to them. The incubus mafia wants you that bad, you’re worth too much to sell. My pack’s keeping you for ourselves.” He leaned over me. His breath smelled like death. “Especially now that Trouble told me what you can do.”

  I twisted away from him with a whimper and spotted a lumpy shape in the darkness of the corner.

  It was the source of that terrible odor. I stared at it until my eyes adjusted and I could make out what Big Papa had stashed in his room.

  Bodies. Two dead incubi, in fact.

  Guess the Silver Needles weren’t going to be a problem after all.

  “We’ve gotten everything we need out of Lobo Norte. Tonight, you leave with us.” His eyes gleamed. “You service us. All of us. More than a dozen after last night’s fight, all waiting for your tender lovin’ care.” I shook my head, denying it, unable to speak. Big Papa didn’t care. “Take a few hours to yourself. Say goodbye to Lobo Norte. I’ll see you at nightfall.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I wasn’t sure how long I spent alone in that bed, my only company the half-eaten bodies of the demons. The curtains were drawn so tightly that I couldn’t tell where the sun was outside. I was beyond time, beyond despair. I didn’t even care that my muscles had cramped from being chained into one position for hours.

  Cooper had betrayed me.

  Yet when the door opened that evening, I wasn’t surprised to see Cooper shuffling in, shooting furtive glances over his back. He closed the door quietly.

  I wanted to be angry at him, but even now, I felt relief at the sight of him.

  “Cooper,” I whispered.

  He sat on the bed beside me. He had brought a pillowcase with him, but it was shaped weirdly. There wasn’t a pillow inside. “We don’t have much time.” His hands flew over the chains, unlocking them.

  It hurt to sit up. I was so stiff that it took three tries. “Are we running?” I asked.

  “We can’t,” Cooper said. “Big Papa explicitly forbade it, and I can’t subvert a direct order. But I’ve got another solution.” He dropped the pillowcase beside me.

  I opened it. Little Bo Peep was swaddled inside. “What…?”

  “There are two shells in it. They’re both silver. Be strong and pull the trigger.”

  At first, I couldn’t understand what he was telling me to do. Then he pulled his leather vest apart, baring his breast.

  Two shells.

  “Me first,” he said. “Then go kill Big Papa. Be strong, baby.”

  I felt sick all over. I picked up Bo Peep, but I didn’t put my finger anywhere near the trigger. She was my companion, my friend, my trusted coyote-killer, and now Cooper wanted me to use her to end his life.

  “No way,” I said.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t disobey Big Papa. If he tells me to kill you, I will. You have to stop me before that happens.”

  “Are you kidding? You think that this is the solution? Murdering you?”

  His brow was furrowed with pain. “Please, Ofelia. Before they come back. Don’t let him make me hurt you.”

  I got up, and he stepped back to give me enough space to shoot him.

  It felt like I was going insane.

  “I won’t let him do anything to us,” I said, lifting Bo Peep to my shoulder. “And I’m not going to end your life because you can’t stand up to him. You are so much stronger than you think you are, Cooper. You’re more than a werewolf. Much more. You aren’t bound to Big Papa’s will—you make your own choices.” I pumped the shotgun. “And so do I.”

  Pushing past Cooper, I stormed toward the door. Determination flooded my veins.

  Whatever I was, I definitely wasn’t as strong and fast as a werewolf, but I wasn’t going to die like a jackrabbit, with a heart bursting from fear. If I was going to die, I would take these assholes do
wn with me.

  Two shells should be plenty for Big Papa.

  “Ofelia!” Cooper shouted. “Wait!”

  Before I could reach the motel room door, it exploded. Shards of wood blasted into the room.

  Big Papa filled the doorframe with his massive girth. He was wearing a black t-shirt that hugged the bulge of his stomach, blue jeans, and leather chaps. His boots had silver spikes on the toes. I was pretty sure they were real silver—intended to allow him to kick his own werewolves into submission.

  His nostrils flared as he scented the air. “Trouble, sit the fuck down,” Big Papa said.

  My heart fell when Cooper immediately sank onto the edge of the bed, heeling like an obedient dog. I could see him struggling against it. His entire body shook. Anger lit his eyes.

  I fired the shotgun.

  Big Papa moved too fast. He suddenly wasn’t standing in the doorway, and the buckshot implanted in the frame instead.

  Then he hit me, and I was flying.

  I slammed into the wall. Plaster cracked. I bounced, landed on the floor on my stomach.

  The pain took a moment to strike. Once it did, I felt like I’d been run over by a hundred motorcycles with spiked treads. A few seconds later, I realized that Bo Peep had flown out of my hands.

  I scrambled to pick her up again on all fours, but Big Papa hit me first. He didn’t punch me. He slashed his hand over my face and fire burned a path from my forehead to my cheek. Hot blood gushed into my eyes.

  Kicking him away, I dragged myself up the wall. In the dirty mirror, I could see that he had clawed three parallel gashes across my face.

  That would scar…if I lived long enough.

  He slammed into my back, knocking me to the floor again. I flipped over. Swung both of my feet up and snapped my heels into his nuts. Big Papa grunted, but it barely slowed him down. He dropped to a crouch on top of me. His weight pinned me to the floor.