by Anya Byrne
Anger Management for Alphas
A Lone Wolf Ripples Short Story
Copyright 2015 Anya Byrne
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
All Romance Edition January 2015
All Romance Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please forward them a link to buy their own copy, or use the gift function available on your All Romance account. Thank you for respecting the hard work and livelihood of this author.
This book is a work of fiction, not to be confused with fact, advice or suggestion. The characters are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons is purely coincidental. Cover art is for illustration purposes only.
Blurb:
The courage of the Lone Wolf Pack changed more lives and affected more destinies than they'd ever thought. The ripples echoing through their entire world brought together countless lovers.
Landon Boone is angry. His pack insists on him taking an official female mate, but all he wants is to wait for his other half. An outburst of temper—in a human bar, no less—forces him into anger management classes. It is yet another irritant for a werewolf Alpha with too many problems to count.
He does not expect his mate to walk through the same door Landon dragged himself through.
Angel is everything Landon had wanted, and more—so beautiful he truly deserves his name. Against all odds, anger management classes—the werewolf Alpha edition—actually have a result.
But Angel also carries the burden of a painful past, and it is up to Landon to help his mate start over. Yet if there is one thing the Lone Wolf Pack taught Landon, it is that mate bonds are stronger than anything. He has every intention of proving that to Angel, and to himself.
Warning: Gay erotic romance. The material in this document contains explicit sexual content that is intended for mature audiences only. All characters involved are adults capable of consent, are over the age of twenty-one, and are willing participants.
10,321 words
Table of Contents
Anger Management for Alphas
About the Author
Other titles by Anya Byrne
Coming Soon
Anger Management for Alphas
A Lone Wolf Ripples Short Story
Anya Byrne
Copyright 2015
Chapter One
"This is ridiculous. I don't belong here." Landon grimaced as he stared at the building in front of him. "I don't need anger management classes."
"Alpha, with all due respect, I'm not sure that is the case." Landon's beta, Jason shot him a sheepish smile. "Unfortunately, you did destroy that bar. We're lucky the patrons were too drunk to notice anything wrong with your hands and eyes, but the judge insisted on this."
Landon sighed heavily and struggled to control the fury already roiling in his gut. It wasn't that he didn't know Jason was right. Displays of anger like Landon's most recent ones were completely unacceptable. Landon could have easily breached the Secrecy Accords if Jason hadn't been there to contain the situation before anything happened.
The human authorities hadn't been impressed by his behavior, but thankfully, he'd gotten away with a slap on the wrist—one that included anger management classes. Unfortunately, Landon didn't think any of it would help. "A human couldn't possibly understand. You know that, Jase."
A human would never be able to grasp what it meant for a werewolf of Landon's age to be completely unable to find his mate. The stress of his pack pressuring him to choose a female for reproducing didn't help—and they didn't let up, even when Landon had adamantly refused to accept anyone except his other half.
Jason's eyes held so much understanding it hurt. "Yes, I do know, but that doesn't change the situation," he answered.
Once more, Jason had a point, and procrastinating wasn't doing Landon any favors. He was an Alpha, damn it all. He refused to be scared of some little human who wanted him to stand in a circle and talk about his feelings.
With a disgruntled huff, Landon slid out of the car, leaving his beta behind. He stalked to the door of the building, only managing to temper his stride half-way there. Allowing his anger to get the better of him before the class had even started would be counterproductive at best.
He opened the door and stepped inside, immediately making a beeline for the assistant behind the front desk. "Hi," he greeted her. "I'm here for the anger management class. Could you direct me to the right room?"
She lifted her gaze from her computer and smiled at him. "Of course. Name, please?"
"Landon Boone."
Landon tapped his fingers against the desk as he waited for her to look the information up in the database. He knew some people were irritated by the habit, but it was the mildest way he'd ever expressed his annoyance. Thankfully, the assistant didn't seem to mind. "Room 202, on the second floor," she instructed him. "Take the stairs to the left."
Landon thanked her and headed up the stairs like she had told him. He found the room with ease, and knocked on the door. A female voice invited him in and he took a deep breath, resigning himself to the unavoidable.
Most of the chairs—situated in a circle, of course—were already occupied when he entered the room. "Hi," he said. "I'm Landon Boone. I apologize for the tardiness."
"That's all right, Mr. Boone," the woman replied with a smile. "We're still waiting for another member. If you'll take a seat, we'll use this chance to make all the introductions until our errant friend shows up."
Landon obediently slid into one of the two empty chairs and focused on the people who were studying him with undisguised interest. The woman started with her own name. "I'm Flowerchild Jameson, and I'll be your anger management coach. These are your fellow students. Everyone, please introduce yourselves."
As he listened to the words of each individual present, it occurred to Landon that someone with the name "Flowerchild" definitely needed a lot of anger management skills to go through life. Or maybe that wasn't even her name? Humans were strange and often made choices Landon couldn't hope to understand.
In fact, he had no idea how sitting here with these strangers would help with his problem. Just the idea horrified and humiliated him. But he had to grit his teeth and endure, so that he could get this entire debacle over with.
The coach looked at her watch, and then must have decided they couldn't wait any longer for the missing member of their group. "So, Mr. Boone. Landon. Can I call you Landon?" When Landon nodded, she beamed at him. "Want to tell us what brought you here?"
"I was in a bar with a friend of mine when someone started a homophobic argument." He grinned, an unpleasant expression he didn't regret in the slightest. "I didn't react well."
"Ah." The teacher hummed thoughtfully. "I can see how that would anger you. But violence only perpetuates violence, and anger doesn't help change opinions. Only love does."
It was definitely something a person called Flowerchild would say, and at a different time, Landon would have scoffed. But he'd recently found out about something that had shaken him more than he'd have liked to admit.
A group of Alphas just like him had stood up to the entire werewolf world to defend their very human, very male lovers. Landon had been there, at the Gathering where the fate of one of them had been decided. The courage it had taken to brave such censure had both strengthened him, and burdened him further.
He was all the more convinced that he could not falter or yield to his pack's demands, but that wasn't a real solution. "Love only fixes things when you
have it," he mumbled under his breath.
It was a little too much like self-pity, and he hated that he'd exposed that part of him to the humans. Fortunately, before things could get awkward, the strangest, most unfamiliar feeling invaded his senses. His anger and self-deprecation were chased away, replaced by the peculiar sensation.
The door burst open, revealing the reason for Landon's shift of focus. The most beautiful young man stepped into the room, panting lightly. His light blond hair curled around his cheeks, framing his delicate features. His dark eyes were apprehensive as he took in the gathering and realized he was the last one to arrive.
He was wearing a T-shirt with the inscription "Keep Calm and Let It Go", naturally starring that Disney princess from Frozen. What was her name again? Landon couldn't remember, not when the T-shirt in question beautifully emphasized the new arrival's slender body. The jeans were a little looser, but Landon had a pretty good imagination, and he could definitely see himself sliding them off those long legs.
And then the stranger spoke, and Landon could barely keep himself from swooning, or coming in his pants. "Sorry for being late," the young man said, wincing. "I had some car trouble. Again."
Flowerchild arched a brow. "No incidents, I trust."
"Nothing major," the object of Landon's desire grumbled under his breath.
Flowerchild tsked and gestured for the young man to sit down. It must have been Landon's lucky day, because the only free seat was next to him.
As he crossed the room and headed toward the chair, the stranger met Landon's gaze. Landon's heart nearly stopped in his chest, and the other man's eyes widened. Obviously, he felt the pull as well.
Landon had wondered many times what the werewolves of the Lone Wolf Pack felt for their mates. Of course, he had known the mate bond was special, and he had craved it more desperately than he needed the freedom to shift and run in the wild. But knowing all that and wondering about it was entirely different from actually experiencing it. He definitely hadn't expected it to happen here, in the middle of a group of confused humans, at an anger management class he didn't want.
Judging by his mate's reaction, the young man was just as surprised as Landon. In fact, he was so shocked and distracted that when he was about halfway to his seat, he stumbled and tripped. Landon was on his feet in seconds and caught his mate before the man could hit the floor.
The soft skin of the stranger's bare arms burned Landon's fingertips, and he wanted nothing more than to rip off the T-shirt and explore every inch of that delicious body. Instead, he asked, "You okay?"
"F-Fine," his mate stammered. A pink tongue came out to lick the young man's lower lip, and the sight of it hypnotized Landon. He ached to press his mouth to that of his mate, to take what he'd waited for his entire life.
But the humans were still there, watching, so Landon was forced to release his beautiful mate. The young man slid into his seat and took a deep breath, as if trying to brace himself. Landon didn't know if it worked—for him, it definitely wouldn't have, since the tantalizing scent of his mate was already getting to his head. However, the other man wasn't a werewolf—a shifter, yes, but not a werewolf—so maybe it helped him. In the end, it didn't matter. Landon's mate turned toward him and offered his hand in greeting.
"That was an interesting way to meet. I'm Angel Gilmore. Welcome to the group."
Landon took Angel—and wasn't that a fitting name?—up on his offer and gripped that soft hand in his own. "Landon Boone. And it's a true pleasure being here. More than I ever expected."
****
Angel felt like he'd fallen into a dream, or better yet, as if he was flying in the upper strata of the atmosphere, where shifters his age were always told not to go. He could not believe this was happening. He could not believe he'd finally found his mate.
Landon held onto Angel's hand for a little longer than would have been polite in the case of two human strangers brought together by anger management classes. Angel's face flamed, but he didn't try to free his palm. For the first time since he'd been grounded, he felt something else despite frustration and resentment.
Landon's eyes glowed, green-gold and shining with a predatory light. It was hard for Angel to identify the exact species of his mate, but if he had to guess, he'd say... werewolf. There was just something about Landon that felt wild and free. When Landon had helped him to his chair, Angel had sensed the barely veiled strength in his mate, the beast straining underneath the surface. And oh, he wanted nothing more than to release that beast, to slide his fingers over Landon's skin and trace those magnificent muscles, to hold onto Landon's dark hair as his mate touched him in turn. But now was not the time. He had to stay focused. He was in public, and his far too elaborate fantasies weren't helping either of them.
Mrs. Jameson cleared her throat, and Landon finally released Angel's hand, albeit with a great deal of reluctance. Angel would have felt embarrassed, but he knew better than to think the human would begrudge them the attraction. Indeed, she shot Angel a smile, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Mr. Boone here has a lot of things in common with you, Angel. Perhaps it would help him if you shared your story."
Quite frankly, Angel doubted that. Whatever had brought a werewolf here, hearing about Angel's past wouldn't chase away his anger. Then again, it wasn't like Angel could actually tell the truth.
"I ran into trouble with my parents because of my sexual orientation. My father tried to pressure me into marrying someone I didn't want, and it all exploded in our faces. Since then, it's been very hard for me to come to terms with what happened and start over."
It was a bit vague, but he didn't want to delve into the true unpleasantness of the story. For the moment, he just felt happy and mellow, and he wanted nothing more than to curl into Landon's embrace. Patience, he reminded himself. The class would end soon. He just had to endure for a while longer.
It took forever. Angel usually liked coming here—he didn't have to do it anymore, but he enjoyed being around the humans. As a rule, it distracted him from his glum thoughts. Today, he was anxious, perpetually hyper-aware of his mate's presence by his side.
The meeting progressed with some other members of the group talking about their experiences and Mrs. Jameson giving them suggestions. Angel fidgeted in his seat, knowing he couldn't get closer to Landon without the humans noticing.
And then, ignoring everything—including the humans—Landon reached for him and took his hand. He only turned his attention away from the class for an instant, but that instant seemed to draw into an age when Landon said, "It's okay. I'll protect you."
Angel melted in his seat—or he would have, if the chairs had been conducive to such postures. Instead, he smiled and threaded their fingers together. Most of the meeting flew past in a blur, but Angel didn't mind, nor did he particularly care.
He had so many questions. Who was Landon Boone really? Was he truly a werewolf or something else? Did he have a family? What was his pack like? What about his likes and dislikes? There were so many things, and Angel was overcome with the need to know everything that very instant.
It was a great relief when Mrs. Jameson finally declared the meeting over. Angel had been zoning out so he only realized it because Landon pulled on his hand slightly and got up. Side by side, they walked up to the coach. "Thank you for the lesson," Landon said. "It was very informative."
Miraculously, Angel managed to find his voice. "As always, I appreciate your help a great deal."
Mrs. Jameson stole a glimpse at their entwined hands, but made no comment. It was probably weird for a human to see two men holding hands mere hours after they'd met, but maybe she thought it was romantic. Mrs. Jameson was sweet like that. "It was my pleasure, Angel," she replied, kissing his cheek. "Now run along. I'm sure the two of you have a lot to talk about."
As they left the room, Landon chuckled and commented, "She's interesting. I'd have expected more surprise."
He didn't say why, but Angel didn't blame him, since the
y couldn't risk anyone overhearing any mentioning of their world. Angel supposed Mrs. Jameson was a neutral enough topic, one that he could actually discuss without being too vague. "She's very nice. I had a very rough time in the beginning, after... Well, after the incident with my family. The classes helped me through my recovery."
Landon's jaw tightened, and Angel could easily guess what was on the man's mind. He wished he could have been there for Angel. He wished Mrs. Jameson hadn't been necessary at all. Smiling, Angel pulled Landon toward the exit. "It's okay," he whispered. "You're here now."
Some of the tension drained from Landon's shoulders. "I am. It's pretty hard to process, even for someone like me. To think that I almost avoided coming today."
"You'd have missed out on something great, huh?"
Angel said the words jokingly, but Landon didn't seem inclined to let him make light of the situation. He pinned Angel to the wall and brought their bodies close together. "Something amazing," he whispered as he pressed a kiss to Angel's jaw. "Amazing and so very beautiful. Like you."
Angel shivered. He'd heard about the chemistry between mates, but this was ridiculous. The only thing he knew about this man was his name—and of course, the fact that he had anger issues. They needed to step back and reassess the situation a bit.
Mercifully, Landon seemed to think the same. "Let me take you out. We need to talk somewhere private. What do you say?"
Angel couldn't have disagreed to save his life. "That sounds lovely," he mumbled. "I'm open to any suggestions."
Judging by the hot erection currently nudging Angel's thigh, Landon had some suggestions that went beyond talking. And really, Angel wouldn't have minded at all. In fact, it made sense to release some of the sexual tension between them so that they could talk with clearer heads. Didn't it?
Despite his previous resolve, he would have probably jumped right into something inadvisable if the sound of approaching footsteps hadn't interrupted them. Landon pulled away with a disgruntled huff, and Angel peered over his mate's shoulder to see another big man round the corner. "Alpha..." the man said in a breathless tone. "Thank the moon. I sensed an... individual of interest nearby."