Alpha Lion: BBW Lion Shifter Paranormal Romance

by Zoe Chant

Sam took a step back. “How do you know my name?” Was this guy a part of the pride? He didn’t look like he was related to Dale, but neither did Lynn.

  The young man smiled. “You’re Dale’s mate.”

  How could he know that? Had Dale spent yesterday telling everyone he knew? Sam wished he’d have waited to talk to her, if so.

  Also, “How do you know where I live?”

  “I read it in your registration form,” the guy said, still smiling. It was not a pleasant smile. “You should really be more careful.”

  Sam put her hand on her nightstick. “Please let me past.”

  She was going to run up into her building, lock the door, and call Dale. Just as soon as he—

  “No.” He smiled wider, showing a lot of teeth.

  “What do you want?” Sam took a step backward, and another. She’d draw her nightstick and get in one good swing, and then—

  She bumped into something behind her, and jumped.

  “It’s not about what he wants,” said a deep voice, and she stifled a shriek and spun around. There was a big, tall man in an expensive suit standing behind her. “It’s about what I want.”

  “Who are you?” Sam asked in as steady a voice as she could manage, although she was pretty sure she knew.

  “My name is Alan Chapman.” The man smiled, and Sam shivered. “It’s nice to meet you, Samantha.”

  * * *

  Dale had spent the last day alternately stupidly happy and strangely uncertain. He wasn’t used to either feeling, and it had made for a surreal day yesterday.

  Lynn had definitely noticed that he was distracted, but she had just smirked and gone about her business, leaving Dale to teach his classes and do his paperwork as best he could before heading home.

  He’d spent a long time that night lying awake, wishing Sam were there beside him instead of at a job where she could be in danger at any moment.

  But as much as he wanted to tell her to quit, that he’d support her, he wasn’t going to presume to dictate her life.

  Today at breakfast, he decided, he would offer. He’d say that if she wanted, he’d be happy to have her move in with him. He had plenty of money to pay the bills and support her until she found another job she wanted.

  Maybe he could even convince Lynn to offer her the assistant position at the studio.

  He knew he wanted her to live with him, though. He wanted to spent the rest of their lives together. And for the first time in his life, he was even starting to think about having children someday.

  He’d always been too conscious of the damage his parents had done to want to risk inflicting that on another human being, but Sam had a strength in her that neither of his parents had had. The thought of making children who had Sam’s integrity, bravery, and inherent sweetness—the thought of giving those children the kind of childhood Sam hadn’t been able to have—

  Well, he could see the appeal.

  He did wonder about how introducing Sam to the pride was going to go. The older members were very wary of weak leadership—understandably, after his father’s tenure as alpha—and they weren’t going to like that Dale had a human mate.

  Some of them might even try to pressure her into volunteering to be turned. It was absolutely forbidden to turn a human against their will, but if they were persuaded to volunteer…

  Dale hadn’t even brought up the subject with Sam yet, because he didn’t want her to feel like she had to. Sam was so determined to do a good job as his mate, he could already tell. Telling her that she could be better if only she just changed something about herself—

  If she did want to, Dale was sure that being a lioness would only make her more Sam. But he couldn’t stomach the idea of making her feel like she wasn’t enough just as she was.

  * * *

  “Get in the car, please, Samantha,” said Alan Chapman. His friend—Freddie, she remembered Dale saying his name was—was holding the back door open for her.

  “No, thank you,” she said steadily, hand gripping her nightstick. If she wanted to use it, she knew she’d only get one shot.

  “It wasn’t a request,” Chapman said. “Please don’t force me to have Freddie make you get—”

  While he was in the middle of his sentence, Sam drew her nightstick in one smooth motion up to her shoulder, like she’d practiced doing over and over last night, and swung it as hard as she could at Freddie.

  It connected with a heavy crack to the middle of his shoulder. His mouth opened in an O of surprise, and Sam bolted forward—

  —and came up short when two huge hands grabbed her upper arms. Chapman was behind her, pulling her back into a strong bear hug.

  Sam struggled hard, trying to stomp on his instep with her clunky security guard shoe, but while she was focused on her feet, he grabbed the nightstick from her hand. She took advantage of his loosened grip to twist, but his arms were still too strong around her.

  And then she heard a growl behind her, and froze.

  “Freddie,” Chapman said into the sudden quiet, “change back, please.”

  There was a louder growl.

  “Freddie,” said Chapman. “I won’t ask you again. Change back.”

  Another minute of quiet, and then Freddie was saying in a sulky voice, “She hurt me.”

  “It’s your own fault for not being prepared,” Chapman said silkily. “She had a weapon, and you ignored it. All right, Samantha, I’ll be joining you in the backseat, I think, while Freddie drives us to our destination. Let’s go.”

  “Where are we going?” Sam asked, hating the wobble in her voice. She was sweating and shaky, and her breath was coming in pants.

  “You’ll find out when we get there,” Chapman said. “Come on.” He hauled her along the sidewalk to the open car door, and pushed her inside, getting in after her. “Childproof locks, I think, Freddie. We don’t want her diving out into traffic.”

  “Yes, sir,” Freddie muttered, and Sam heard the click of the locks engaging.

  She sat miserably as far from Chapman as she could get, pressed up against the opposite door, and thought about Dale telling her to breathe after she’d been attacked the other night.

  She drew in a breath, and it was jerky and uneven. She held it for a second, and then let it shakily out, and started again. In. Hold. Out.

  She kept breathing, and didn’t think about what Chapman might want her for.

  * * *

  Dale deliberately avoided Sam’s workplace on his morning run, not wanting to seem too much like a crazed lovesick idiot. They’d agreed to meet after Sam got home, and stopping by all, Hi, I know we had a plan, but I just couldn’t stay away… seemed too much like a scene from a cheesy movie.

  Instead, he circled around the opposite end of the city, came straight home, showered, and got dressed. In a nice suit, even though he’d be overdressed for breakfast; for Sam, it was a dinner date.

  Dale didn’t eat out much, and so he’d had a hard time finding a good place to go—most places that were open for breakfast this early in the morning were diners or Denny’s. But he’d eventually found what looked like a cozy restaurant that specialized in brunch and opened at 7.

  He checked his phone. 6:31, no messages. Sam had probably just gotten home.

  He waited, getting more and more antsy as the clock ticked forward. Calm down, he told himself. She was probably showering and putting on makeup. Doing her hair.

  He had no idea what Sam did to get herself ready for a date, he realized. He was looking forward to finding out.

  But he was also incredibly anxious. Strangely anxious, considering it was only 6:45 and he had literally no reason to think Sam would want to cancel. Was this what being a lovesick idiot was like?

  He forced himself through some basic breathing exercises, the sort of thing he used to center himself before a training session. They didn’t work very well.

  At seven, he gave up and called Sam. If he looked like a lovesick idiot, that was fine.

  He couldn’t
have said why, but he needed to hear her voice.

  The phone was picked up after two rings, and Dale was about to breathe a sigh of relief when he heard something that made his blood freeze in his veins.

  “Dale,” said Alan Chapman’s smooth voice. “I’ve been expecting your call.”

  * * *

  Freddie drove them to a small house in a bad neighborhood on the outskirts of town.

  They pulled into a tiny garage, and Chapman yanked Sam out of the car by her wrist, while she wished bitterly that she’d had time to go to more than one of Lynn’s classes. All she could think to do was to go limp, and Chapman and Freddie together could carry her no problem.

  Plus, they were lions.

  So she went quietly, although Chapman’s grip on her wrist stayed bruisingly hard.

  Inside, there was barely any furniture, just a card table and a few folding chairs set up in the kitchen. Chapman picked up a pair of handcuffs from the table and put one around her wrist.

  “Don’t want you getting away," he said, and closed the other around a cabinet door. Sam eyed it, but it looked too strong to break.

  “Why don’t you want me getting away?” she asked. “I’ve never done anything to you. I can’t give you anything. I don’t have any money.”

  “I don’t want anything you have, Samantha.” Sam hated the way he said her name, in a drawn-out, caressing tone of voice. “I want what your lover has. And he’s going to give it to me, or he’ll never get you back.”

  “You’re going to fight Dale," Sam realized all of a sudden.

  “That’s right." Chapman came up to her, way too close, and Sam backed up until her hand hit the full length of the handcuff. He reached out—

  —but he was just going into her pocket. He pulled out her phone. “Let’s see," he said. “Oh, here he is. Just ‘Dale,' Samantha? No cute nicknames? I’m disappointed.”

  “Dale won’t give up his pride," Sam snapped, and she realized as she was speaking that she hoped it was true.

  As much as she loved Dale and as happy as she was that he loved her back, she wouldn’t want him to sacrifice all of his family and friends to this sadistic asshole just for her.

  “Dale’s pride has been a problem for me for a while," Chapman said, laughing at his own pun, “but I think I have finally brought it to heel.”

  The phone buzzed in his hand. Sam knew who it was. No one else would call her this early in the morning.

  Chapman smiled, delighted, and swiped his thumb over the screen. “Dale," he said into the phone. “I’ve been expecting your call.”

  * * *

  Dale’s entire body had gone cold. “What the hell have you done with Sam?” he snapped.

  “Oh, she’s just fine," Chapman said. “Nothing to worry about. And she’ll stay fine, as long as you cooperate.”

  “Cooperate with what," Dale said flatly, although he didn’t need to ask. He knew.

  “You’ll meet me at the studio when it opens," said Chapman in his smooth, confident voice. “I will issue a formal challenge with witnesses. We will fight today, and you will lose. If you don’t, Samantha dies.”

  “How do you know I won’t just show up at your house in five minutes?” Dale stood up and moved for the door.

  “Dale," said Chapman, sounding like he was talking to a simple child, “we’re not at my house. We’re at another property, and it’s not even under my name. You have no hope whatsoever of finding me before the day is over.”

  Dale stopped halfway to the door, his ears starting to ring. He felt like everything was receding, like the world was just fuzzing out.

  And then he heard something that slammed him back to reality: a tinny voice shouting, “Don’t do it, Dale! Don’t give in to this asshole!”

  And then something that turned his whole-body chill into a hot rage: a high, sharp smack. The sound of someone being slapped hard across the face.

  “Now, Freddie," said Chapman reprovingly. “I’ve already spoken to you once about getting too violent with Samantha. I’d hate to have to do it a third time.”

  “I’ll see you at the studio," Dale gritted out, and hung up.

  He stared at the phone in his hand for a long second afterward, wondering if hanging up had been a cowardly move. But no—he’d never be able to convince Chapman of anything, and the longer he stayed on the line, the more likely Chapman would try and use Sam to get to him.

  Dale had to get to Sam instead. He had to. But how?

  Sam would be alone with Freddie when Chapman left.

  Dale had never had a chance to get to know Freddie very well, since he’d always been too much under Chapman’s spell. But he didn’t think impulse control was Freddie’s specialty—he had no idea what Freddie might do without Chapman there. If he wanted to hurt Sam…

  Suddenly, Dale eyes widened. He grabbed his keys—he had to get to the studio.

  * * *

  Dawn was already at reception when Dale came in. She wasn’t working, though, just staring down at her desk. When Dale came over, he could see that there wasn’t anything on the desk, and her computer wasn’t on.

  “Dawn," he said.

  Dawn jumped, and looked up at him. Her face made it clear that she already knew. “Dale," she said in a small voice.

  Dale remembered Chapman sweet-talking Dawn, taking her to lunch one day. He’d seen Freddie hanging out at the desk while Chapman was nosing around in Dale and Lynn’s business. He knew Dawn didn’t like working at the studio much, and that she didn’t get along too well with the other younger lions.

  If he’d been Chapman, and he’d been trying to get at studio records to figure out where Sam lived, Dawn would be the first person he’d go to.

  Dale had guessed she’d know something, and now he knew he was right. He was also guessing she could, and would, do something to help. He could only hope he was right about that, too.

  “Dawn," he said, keeping his voice as level as he could, “I know that you’ve had a hard time fitting in, and I know that the studio isn’t where you want to work all your life. But you’ve met Sam. She’s a good person, and she’s scared and hurt right now.”

  Dawn’s chin jerked up. “She’s not hurt!” she protested.

  “How do you know that?” Dale asked, keeping his voice low. He didn’t want to scare her into clamming up.

  “She’s not going to get hurt," Dawn assured him. “He just wants you to realize that this isn’t the way to lead a pride.”

  “What isn’t?” Dale asked carefully.

  “Taking a mate who refuses to change!” Dawn said. “We can’t have an alpha lioness who isn’t a lioness.” She looked at him with big, pleading eyes. “I don’t know why you don’t understand that.”

  “What do you mean?” Dale asked. “Sam didn’t refuse to change. I haven’t asked her to yet.” Okay, yet wasn’t quite the right word there, since he’d never suggest that Sam wasn’t good enough just as she was, but it still wasn’t technically a lie.

  “Alan said you had, and she said no," Dawn said, blinking in surprise.

  “And that makes it okay to kidnap her and hurt her?” Dale asked.

  “No one’s going to hurt her!” Dawn said frantically.

  Dale pulled out his phone and held it up. “I was just talking to Alan on this," he said. “Sam tried to talk to me, and Freddie hit her. Hard.” It had sounded hard.

  Dale had to keep from thinking too much about it, or his vision started to turn red.

  Dawn stared at his phone. “Freddie wouldn’t do that.” But she didn’t sound sure.

  “Freddie would do that," said Dale. “Dawn. Freddie did do that.”

  Dawn’s eyes were starting to well up. “Alan said he just needed to separate you until you weren’t surrounded by—um, by a cloud of pheromones," she said in a shaky voice. “That you’d understand once you were away from each other, and if you didn’t, maybe you should just take some time off to be together?” A tear slipped down her cheek.

  “
Alan lied," Dale said.

  Dawn started to cry in earnest. “I’m sorry. I showed him her registration forms. He had her address because of me. I shouldn’t have done it, I should’ve talked to you.”

  “Do you know where they took her, Dawn?” Dale asked, too urgent to be angry at her for the moment.

  Dawn shook her head, more tears starting to fall. “No," she said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Are you sure you don’t know anything?” Dale asked. “Chapman’s on his way here. Sam’s alone with Freddie right now, Dawn. He could be doing anything to her.” God, it was making his lion rear up and snarl. He had to concentrate to keep from changing right here.

  “Freddie and Sam are all alone?” Dawn asked, wiping furiously at the tears on her cheeks.

  “That’s what I said." Dale rubbed his forehead. This had been his only idea, to try and persuade her to tell him.

  He was relieved that Dawn wasn’t actually collaborating with Sam’s kidnapping, that she hadn’t realized how much of a soulless monster Alan Chapman really was. But if she didn’t know…

  …well, she didn’t know yet. “Dawn, do you think you could get Freddie to tell you where he is right now?” Dale asked. “Try calling him up and offering to go hang out with him or bring him something.”

  “I might…” Dawn started digging through her purse for her phone. She poked at it, then sniffed hard and held it up to her ear. “Hey, Freddie," she said after a second. “How’s it going?”

  Dale resisted the temptation to snatch the phone out of her hands and demand that Freddie let Sam go. He had to let her do this.

  “Yeah, Dale just stopped in and told me to take the day off," she said. Dale was impressed by how steady her voice sounded, considering she’d been crying just a moment ago.

  “So anyway, I don’t have anything to do," she said. “I thought maybe I could bring you something. Coffee and doughnuts?”

  Dale watched her face, desperate for any clues that this was working.

  “Alan’s not going to know," she said. “I just want to hang out.” She was frowning a little. Dale made himself breathe slowly. He could feel his lion ready to burst through his skin any second. He just needed a target.

  “Is he really being that much of a hardass?” Dawn was somehow managing to sound bored. “Fine, that’s okay, but I’m almost at the doughnut place anyway, you want me to just grab something and drop it off for you? I don’t have to come inside if Alan’s going to get mad about it.”