Falling for the Alphas: Part One

by Cassie Wright

  Life. It throbbed around him, vital and precious. Nothing like the city. The arteries of asphalt, the stench of gasoline and smoke, the acrid burn of car exhaust and sewage. Where every surface was hard. Where there were no curves, only angles. A nightmare for any wild creature. A place where spirits were crushed and destroyed. Where the full vibrant spectrum of life was broken down into one uniform, dull pattern. He didn't know how Kayden could stand it. How he could stay there, day after day. Night after night. How he didn't miss this most basic of connections, this primal link with the Earth Mother.

  Dylan padded forward, moving through the beams of sunlight and back into shadow. His pack was scattered around him, and even at this distance he could feel their tug, knew where they were. Nothing as close to what that awareness had been under the totem-spirit, when each and every packmate was clear in his mind at all times. But still. They were pack. Nothing could take away from that.

  He paused to sniff at the trunk of a tree. His thoughts turned to Naomi, the bringer of the totem-seed. A restless hunger entered him. He thought again of following the deer. Hunting it down, giving chase, leaping, bringing it down. Letting loose this heat in the pleasure of the kill.

  But no.

  He was more than that. Or so he told himself.

  Naomi. Soft curves. Full breasts. Her eyes flashing with fire and intelligence. With arousal. Only kin, but there was strength there. A hunger as well. A need. He had sensed it last night, and it had called to his own desire, aroused him further, pushed him almost over the edge.

  It was too easy to bring her scent back to mind. He wanted to explore her body. To mark it with his own scent, to own it. To make her his mate. To make her cry out. To sink his fingers in her hair and curl them into a fist. To turn her head to one side as he rode her so that he could see her face as she bit her lip. She was strong, full bodied. Mating with her would be unlike tangling with a packmate. That was too akin a wrestling match, a playful fight for dominance, a striving, all muscle and thrust. With Naomi, it would be different. Would she be able to take all of him? Would he be able to let slip his control, and mate with her as deeply as he desired?

  Blinking, he realized he'd shifted back into his human form. His cock strained against his jeans. Cursing himself for a fool, he went to shift back down, and then paused. The sound of a car. Somebody was leaving Anna's House in Jeb's old jeep. Moving quickly, he ran through the forest, and stepped out onto the road just as the jeep turned the bend and came toward him.

  Naomi was driving. He saw her eyes go wide, and then she slammed on the brakes. The jeep came shuddering to a stop just a few yards from him.

  Where was she going? He tilted his head to one side, the wolf still riding close to the surface. She stared right back at him, hands on the wheel, and then pushed open the door and got out. By the Earth Mother, she looked good. Even in his human form he could smell her still damp hair, long and lying in heavy coils over her shoulder. The plaid shirt strained over her breasts, as if they fought for freedom. Jeans tight over her hips and thighs. A woman's body. A ripe peach.

  "Dylan." She sounded uncertain. Hesitant. Afraid? No.

  "Naomi." He walked over. Stopped a few feet shy. Her skin was beautiful in the sunlight. If she caught enough, he could tell freckles would appear on her shoulders. Over the bridge of her nose. "You headed out?"

  More hesitation. "Yes. But I'm coming back."

  The wolf within him yearned for the hunt. He couldn't stand still. Restless, he slowly walked around her. Some instinct kept her still. "It's not safe for you in the city."

  "No, I know that." Tension rode her body. If he were in his wolf form he'd be able to read her better. But even with only his eyes he could see her nerves. "I was planning a quick visit."

  "Hmm." Sweat ran down his neck. He'd not slept in some time, but he felt terribly alive. He wanted to touch her. But instead he circled back. "Visit where?"

  She shifted her weight. Reached up to curl her hair over her ear. She was having trouble looking at him. Maybe because he wasn't wearing a shirt? Her eyes were darting everywhere but at him. Instinct whispered in his ear, and he stepped in closer. She took a deep breath. Could she smell him? His desire?

  "I'm... I'm going to talk to Kayden."

  That drew him up short. He felt a growl burn at the base of his throat, but he suppressed it. Naomi took a step back. The first flickers of fear. He controlled himself. "Why?"

  "Why?" Anger followed fast after the fear, like it always does. "Because I don't want you to fight. I don't want you to die." She glared at him. "It's beyond stupid. Fine, I know you're a wolf, or part wolf, but that doesn't mean you can't find a way to work together. Stark's the enemy. Not Kayden. So if you guys can't figure it out, I'm going to give it my best shot."

  Her flash-fire anger gave him pause. He didn't want to think about the logic behind her words. It was so much simpler to allow the wolf-mind to dictate action. Kayden was a rival alpha. That meant he had to be dominated. Put down, his wolves absorbed into the Silver Song. Simple. And yet he’d grown up with Kayden. Packmates. They'd fought beside each other. Saved each other's lives more times than Dylan could remember.

  "I've tried." His voice was low, dangerous. "Over and over. Kayden laughs. He tells me to bare my throat." Restless once more, Dylan circled around Naomi. She turned to keep him before her. "You think I don't know who the enemy is?" A low laugh. "But Kayden. He doesn't want answers. Solutions. He wants death. Stark's, his own, it doesn't matter. Something broke in him when the totem was destroyed. When Gerard was killed. He's broken." Dylan curled his hands into fists. He wanted his claws. His own pain began to awaken. "He's become a creature of the city. You don't know what that does to a werewolf."

  Naomi had her back pressed to the car. She wasn't on edge. Yet he could smell her arousal. Her eyes were wide. Her hands pressed against the side of the car. She was breathing shallowly. Scared and aroused. Wanting him despite her instinct to flee. Dylan held her gaze and waited.

  "Even so." Her voice shook. "I have the totem-seed. That might make a difference."

  "What if he decides to keep you?" Dylan stepped forward. His bare chest almost touching her shirt. "What if he decides to make you his mate?"

  She blinked. She knew so little. She was walking blind through pack politics. "I won't let that happen."

  "No?" Dylan leaned forward, inhaled deeply by her ear. Her smell was intoxicating. It made thinking hard. Holding himself back nearly impossible. "How would you stop him?"

  Naomi closed her eyes. He could see the vein in her neck flutter. He wanted to bite her there. Establish his dominance. But he held back.

  "I... I don't know." Her honesty surprised him. "But Stark. You said he came to the forest for the first time last night." He nodded. "So he's growing stronger. He knows what Illixy means. He has to attack now, before he loses his advantage. You and Kayden, you need to stand together when he attacks." She opened her eyes and met his gaze with strength. "If you're too busy killing each other, you'll be easy prey."

  Dylan frowned. She was right. Even if he killed Kayden, he'd be wounded. Weakened. He growled at the thought. Turned away and strode toward the trees. Stood with his hands on his hips, staring at nothing. His thoughts spun. Things had been so simple under Gerard. Now there seemed to be no correct move. No right way forward.

  Naomi stepped up behind him. He tensed. She slid a smooth palm over the curvature of his shoulder. Her touch was cool against his fevered flesh. "Let me go. Let me try." He looked over his shoulder at her. She was beautiful, but it was more than that: she had spirit. Naomi licked her full lower lip. He wanted to catch that lip between his teeth, to kiss her deeply. To crush her curves against his own body.

  "Alright." He turned to face her once more, and slid his hand around the nape of her neck. Her hair lay thick and wet over his wrist. "But if you're not back by tonight, I'm gathering my pack, and I'm coming after you."

  She shivered. He ran his fingers down her arm, th
en slid his hand around to the small of her back. Pulled her against him. Her breasts pressed against his chest as he kissed her. Her lips were soft, delicious. He heard her moan. He wanted to pull one of her legs up past his hip. To place her against the side of the car and mate with her right here, under the blue sky, standing.

  But no. He could still sense her hesitation. Her mind warring with her body. So he broke the kiss and stepped back. Naomi almost stumbled, and then caught herself. Raised her fingertips to her lips, and then stepped back herself.

  "Hurry," he said. "When the sun sets, I'll come for you. And if Kayden tries to stand between us, I'll make him regret the day he was born."

  Naomi nodded and pulled the car door open. Got in. Turned the engine on, all the while watching him. He stretched his arms to the sky, and shifted. Up into his war-form. Her eyes went wide. He turned, and ran into the wood. He would pick up that deer's trail. It was time to hunt.

  ~~~

  "Holy crap." Naomi drove faster than she should. Illixy floated beside her. She wanted to go faster. She wanted to outrace her panic and arousal. Leave that complex firebomb of a man behind in the woods. His eyes had devoured her. She'd felt like prey. Unsafe, yet while he'd stared at her there was no where else she'd wanted to be. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. Her stomach was as tight as a drum. Yet she couldn't stop thinking of his kiss. His lips, firm and commanding, hungry and searching. The strength of his hand as he had cupped her neck.

  Illixy had appeared shortly after she'd driven away. She shot him an accusatory glance. "Where have you been?"

  Thinking.

  "Thinking? About what? You're a totem-seed. What you got to think about?"

  So much, Naomi. I'm learning about myself. What I am. What I'm meant to be. It's... frightening.

  That stilled her anger, her excitement. She shot him a second glance. His golden and pearl patterns were quiet, subdued. "Frightening?"

  Yes. A long pause. I've never wondered what I was, not even when you asked me. I am myself. But now I am learning that I am much more. I am a seed. There is so much potential. But if I grow, if I become a totem, will I still be myself?

  Naomi pushed a lock of hair out of her face. The dirt lane turned once more, and then she slowed and stopped. The T-junction with the paved road. She looked at him.

  "I don't know, Illixy." She felt helpless. "There is so much I don't know." He didn't respond. Remained still, pulsing quietly. She bit the corner of her mouth. "We could leave, you know." She tried the words out for size even as she said them. "Dylan said we could. Just go. Leave all this madness behind us. You could stay Illixy. I could stay Naomi. No totem-seed, no alpha mate."

  We could. He didn't sound convinced. But would that be right?

  "I don't know." She stared out at the woods before her. "I don't know."

  Tell me again why you began investigating Stark.

  She narrowed her eyes. "You know why. I talked it over with you last year." He stayed silent. She sighed. "Are you trying to make a point?" No answer. "Fine. I picked Stark because he seemed to be at the center of it all. The Global Bank scandal. Lorenzo Scarzini walking free. His connections to West Baptist Church, and the money laundering." She paused. "Ring any bells?"

  But so what? Illixy flashed with a brief light.

  "So what?" Naomi shook her head. "Fort Brixton is going to hell. He's like the shadow godfather behind it all."

  So?

  "So?" Anger flared. Impatience. "What are you getting at?"

  Why did you care?

  "Because it's not right!" She hit the steering wheel. "It's not right that he keeps getting away with it. If I could stop him, if I could bring to light the truth, I could help, I could maybe make a difference -" She stopped. Illixy glimmered. "Oh." She sat back. "I see what you're getting at."

  This is another way to make a difference. Perhaps a deeper, truer one.

  "Yeah." Naomi rubbed the base of her palms into her eyes. They sat in silence. She sighed. "We can't just leave, can we?" No answer. "No, I guess not." Shania's words came back to her: Nothing seemed to have any meaning away from here. "We can't just turn our back on this, can we. No matter how crazy it all is." She thought of Dylan. His burning intensity, his smoldering hot looks, his struggle to do the right thing, to be a leader, to protect his pack, his kinfolk, the city. Could she turn her back on him? No. She shifted in her seat. No, she couldn't.

  "Let's find this Kayden." She nodded. "Let's smack him upside the head, make him see sense, and get the packs back together. Yeah?"

  Yes. Illixy's colors grew richer, his patterns more defined.

  "Well, alright then." She shifted into first, looked both ways, and accelerated.

  Chapter 5

  Kayden popped open the can of beer. A sharp click, then the fizz of foam running down its side, cold over his fingers. He didn't bother shaking it off. Raised the can to his lips and drank. Never took his eyes off Ella. Sweet Ella, beautiful Ella. She stood in a column of sunlight that speared down from the warehouse's ruined roof. The rest of the pack was scattered amongst the shattered crates, seated on steel drums, lay hidden in the shadows. All eyes on Ella, and she had eyes only for Kayden.

  Her blond hair had mostly escaped its braid, and hung in diagonal wisps across her face. Her green eyes smoldered, ringed with kohl. Expression almost solemn. Tall, slender hipped, long legged. Her shirt was torn off just below the nipples, so that the full swell of the undersides of her breasts were visible. Torn jean shorts. Her chest rising and falling. Kayden canted his head slowly to one side. Waited. Watched.

  She raised an arm to cup the side of her head, turned her face away. Closed her eyes, and began to move sinuously to a beat only she could hear. Undulate. Her other hand moved down her side, pushing down at the top of the shorts, exposing the angular ride of her hip. Ella danced, slowly, as if alone, alone with her alpha. Sensual, unabashed, bathed in glorious gold light, the rest of the vast echoing space hidden in shadow.

  Kayden felt his cock stir. He stirred, but was in no hurry to move things forward. Drank from his beer. They only hunted at night. By day, they rested, slept, waited. Amused themselves. There was no point in prowling the streets under the sun. Their enemies were hidden, slunk into their holes, withdrawn into their nests. It was only once the pale moon rose and their blood began to burn that they would emerge from their packhouse. A dozen werewolves, grown feral and strange on the streets of Fort Brixton. Their wolves having nearly devoured their humanity. Their instincts raw, their connection to the Earth Mother grown so faint it was nearly gone.

  Ella swayed back, rocking her hips as if mounted on Kayden's cock already. Mouth parted, breath audible even from where Kayden sat, his boots kicked up on the table, resting on the rear two legs of his chair. There had been a time when he would have mated eagerly with Ella, determined to impress her, to prove himself, to win her admiration. That time was long past. He was the Alpha of The Vengeance. He mated with whom he willed, and it was for them to impress him. To try and break through his burning wall of pain and rouse some true emotion. Few managed. Yet still they tried.

  Ella stalked forward. The dark smudges around her eyes made them seem larger. Her tongue was a vivid red as she licked her lips. Her hair in disarray, the last of the war-braid dissolved.

  Kayden drank from the beer, then crushed the can and tossed it aside. Stood. Ella froze. The rest of the pack as one turned their heads to regard him. Alert. On edge. Ready for any command. Ella watched him, uncertain. Would he take her, then and there before the pack? He had done so before. But no. Kayden stretched, heard joints pop. Clenched his muscles, felt them writhe like snakes across his shoulders and arms. Took a breath, and shifted. Muscle uncoiled, bones thickened, the world grew sharp as his senses drank in the dreary shadows and light of the warehouse. Up into his war-form. His arousal melted into his impatience, his need for violence. For retribution. He felt caged. Trapped within these walls.

  "The enemy is outside." His words were
soft, but Ella flinched. He began to pad toward her. She could shift up. She'd not be as tall as him, nor as powerful, but she could shift. To do so though would be an implicit challenge. She took a step back.

  "Can you feel them?" He looked from one packmate to the other. Some in wolf form, others human. "Can you taste them? That foul taste in the back of your throat?" Ella took another step back and then froze. Slowly, in no rush, Kayden approached. "Mocking us. Laughing at us. The Vengeance. Our pack name. Yet what vengeance have we taken?"

  He reached down with a powerful taloned hand and wrapped his fingers around her jaw. Raised her face to his, but she kept her eyes averted "For every one we kill, ten emerge." His anger was starting to radiate from his iron gray pelt. "We run in circles, and never draw closer to the center. To Stark."

  Ella didn't shiver or shake. She was his packmate, not prey. Not the enemy. Yet there was tension in her. Ready for violence or a caress. He turned her beautiful face to the other side. Admired her lines. Strong. Powerful. Dangerous. A weapon. Whenever they mated, it was almost violent, both unleashing their rage and desire upon the other. He traced one ebon claw down the length of her neck. She shivered then.

  He looked up. "We need to do better. We need Dylan's wolves. We need the Silver Song. He wants a proper challenge. Traditional. A challenge circle with witnesses." He lowered his hand from Ella's chin to wrap his fingers around her neck, the talons overlapping around the nape of her neck. "But what do we care for tradition? We care only for war. For victory. I want Stark's head, but first we must take Dylan's."