Royal Alpha

by Riley Storm

  “It’s fine,” Logan said, waving a hand at them. “Stand down.”

  “What happened?” Lester asked, staring daggers at Leonen.

  Logan appreciated the show of loyalty, but he needed calmer heads just then. He needed talk his way out of this.

  “You bastard!” Leonen snapped, standing up, blood running from split lips. Miraculously Logan hadn’t broken his nose—again.

  “You will address the King with proper respect!” Lester growled, putting himself between them.

  “Out of my way,” Leonen growled savagely, taking a step toward Logan.

  Lester’s arm moved like a blur. There was a brief sound of steel sliding against leather and then Leonen stopped cold, the ultra-sharp blade of a sword pushing up against his neck. Any more pressure and blood would begin to spill.

  “That’s far enough,” Lester whispered, deadly serious.

  Leonen quivered on the spot, staring past the guard at Logan.

  “That’ll do,” Logan said quietly, gesturing for his guards to both step back toward the door.

  Lester looked over his shoulder to confirm, and then the sword disappeared. The two guards took several steps back.

  “Last time you sucker punched me as well,” Leonen growled.

  “You earned it last time too,” Logan said with a shrug. “As long as you keep doing stupid things, you’re going to keep earning stupid prizes. It’s not my fault you’re dumb.”

  “Last time we were stopped,” Leonen said, spitting blood.

  “Two for two on that front,” Logan agreed.

  Footsteps clattered in the hallway outside. Both Logan and the guards turned to see what it was.

  “This time we won’t be stopped,” Leonen said, and launched himself at Logan. “The throne will be mine sooner than planned!”

  Logan grunted and went down as the shifter tackled him in the side. As he was falling, he saw his two guards go down under a trio of other shifters. Shifters he recognized as being loyal to Leonen.

  Anger surged as he realized what this was. Leonen was attempting to take control of the throne. Literally.

  Crashing into the wall, Logan winced in pain at the whiplash as his head snapped back. The bastard had planned this. He’d wanted this. Positioned his men just out of sight somewhere, then he’d egged Logan on, trying to get him to fight.

  Logan drove an elbow into his attacker’s back, driving down once, twice, until Leonen’s grip around his waist went slack. Snarling he pushed Leonen backward hard and went to the rescue of his men. Jumping into the fray he pulled one of the attackers off Lester and tossed him clear across the room with a shout.

  A fist came out of nowhere and slammed into his jaw, spinning Logan around. He snarled, blinking back the pain and got both hands up to block another blow.

  Only to get hit in the back by one of the chairs as Leonen roared with rage, smashing the executive style office chair against him. The impact staggered him forward. He ducked under a vicious haymaker from one of the newcomers and then regained his balance.

  Leonen came at him, but Logan was finally ready. He rolled with the first punch, then delivered a hard left in return, cracking a rib. Leonen, to his credit, took the pain and exploited the opening Logan had given him from the strike and clobbered Logan’s right shoulder.

  But Logan was done playing fair. His legs flexed to absorb the blow, and then straightened. Exploding forward Logan drove his head forward, smashing it against Leonen’s nose.

  The other man recoiled, blood streaming from one nostril, though the nose still wasn’t broken. With the split second of freedom Logan lashed out with a foot, catching one of the other attackers in the knee. It buckled and, in a flash, Lester got back to his feet and took advantage as the numerical advantage of Leonen’s followers started to slip away.

  It was all the help Logan could give, as his rival came back for more.

  “Stop this madness,” Logan growled. “This doesn’t benefit either of us.”

  “It benefits me,” Leonen snarled. “When I sit on the throne.”

  Logan laughed. “If you think Miriam is going to let you do that, you’re dumber than I thought.”

  Wrong words. Leonen went red with rage and charged, closing the distance in the small conference room in the blink of an eye. The two men grappled and fell to the ground, using fists, elbows, forearms, knees, feet and whatever else they could to try and gain an advantage over the other.

  There was a loud snap and one of the other shifters shouted in pain as a bone broke. Logan didn’t have time to check who it was. Instead he focused on overpowering Leonen. As strong as he was because of his shifter DNA, Leonen wasn’t a trained combat fighter. He had basic training, as did all members of House Canis, but he’d never fought, never served his House.

  Logan had done all of those, and he exploited that advantage mercilessly. This wasn’t a duel, there were no rules, no regulations. This was as close to a fight for survival as there was.

  So, he reached out and slammed a fist into Leonen’s groin, hitting him twice in quick succession before the other shifter rolled to protect himself. As he did that, however, he gave Logan his back, and Logan pounced, wrapping legs around his waist and squeezing the air out of him, while he snaked one of his huge arms under Leonen’s chin, closing off his airway.

  “It’s over,” he snarled. “Yield.”

  Leonen kept fighting for a few seconds, but then his movements started getting sluggish and weaker.

  “Yield, dammit!” Logan snarled.

  He felt Leonen finally tape at his arm several times, giving in to submission. Releasing his grip, he shoved the other shifter away and got to his feet, ready to dive in and help his guards, only to find them standing with swords drawn, aimed at the throats of the other three shifters who were sitting on the ground.

  “Pathetic,” Logan snapped, shaking his head at the three of them. “You should know better. Take them to the dungeon,” he ordered. “A few days in there will hopefully make them think twice about trying to kill their rightful King.”

  One of the attackers looked at him wide eyed in shock. “You aren’t going to kill us?”

  Logan rolled his eyes. “Haven’t you been paying attention to anything I’ve been saying since I took the throne? There’s been enough killing. Enough bloodshed. We need to unite and work together if we want to return ourselves to prosperity. We need to stop fighting amongst one another like this,” he said, gesturing at all of them. “I need you to understand that, to accept it. I can’t just go around killing everyone who disagrees with me. I need you to take some time, think about it, and understand why it would be a disaster if someone like him were King,” Logan said, pointing to Leonen who was still gasping for breath. “Now get them out of here.”

  The five shifters filed out, the three attackers walking with swords pointed at their backs but much of the hostility gone from their expressions as they considered Logan’s words.

  “And you,” he said, turning to face Leonen. “I wish I could put you into a cell.”

  “You can’t,” Leonen wheezed, finally getting to his feet and coming closer, his throat purple from where Logan had been squeezing it. “You know better than that.”

  “I do. I just wish you did as well.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Treat her better,” Logan snarled. “Otherwise, next time it won’t just be a broken nose you suffer.”

  Leonen frowned. “My nose isn’t—”

  Logan’s fist slammed into his face, and this time it did break. Very loudly, and with a nicely satisfying crunch too.

  Couldn’t have made it any more perfect if I’d tried.

  “Just treat her better,” he repeated, hoping the idiot would get the point as Logan left the room.

  Behind him, the ceiling groaned and fell in on Leonen’s head just as he stood up.

  25

  Heather needed to be done standing by idly. It was high time she started making her ow
n decisions. Choosing her own path. She was thirty years old, a full-grown adult. If she survived the next year, she would be free to do as she chose without having to worry what others thought of her.

  It was irritating how everyone still saw her as a child who should obey her mother, but as soon as her thirty-first birthday rolled around, she would be expected to be a fully functioning adult, operating on her own, and to have her life sorted.

  What kind of ridiculous double-standard was that? All because one day passed, she would suddenly gain all this freedom from scrutiny and attempts to isolate and imprison her? It was unfair, dammit, and she was done letting others dictate her life to her.

  Starting with her mother.

  The idea of confronting Miriam left her paralyzed, unable to contain pacing in her room. Heather knew what she wanted to do, but actually walking into the other room and carrying out her course of action scared her so badly she needed to pee.

  Fleeing to her washroom, she took her time, gathering her thoughts and anything she could use as courage, holding onto it, telling herself she could do this. Maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea, but Heather needed to do something. All her life she’d done nothing but what she was told.

  It’s time I do what I want to do. Damn what other people think of me. I know me. I know I’m not going to succumb to this stupid disease. I’m going to live my life free of fear of what they’ll try to do to me. I’m not a weakling.

  Most of the shifters who were outspoken against her wouldn’t actually lift a hand against her. They would expect others to do their dirty work. If she confronted them physically, they would back down, especially if she’d already shown a willingness to defy her mother. Defy Miriam and she might well win her freedom.

  So simple.

  Yet the simplest things were often nowhere near the easiest. The idea of just saying ‘no’ to her mother was frightening. Doing something that would actively weaken her mother’s power was taking things to another level. Could she do it?

  Only one way to find out.

  Spinning on the carpet, she marched out of her room.

  “Are you finally ready to talk?”

  Her mother’s voice cut through the shell Heather had wrapped around herself, slicing her open raw with six words.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, trying to keep her composure.

  Miriam sighed and put her book down. “Seriously, daughter? I have raised you from birth for thirty years. I know when something is on your mind.”

  Heather frowned. That was a valid point, but still, how had she known Heather wanted to come to her now?

  “Plus, I could hear you pacing in there like a caged animal for the last half hour,” Miriam added with a smile designed to place Heather at ease.

  “I’m surprised you don’t know what it is I want to talk about then,” Heather challenged.

  “With you, it could be a million things. Whatever it is though, please do get on with it. I have lots of work to do,” Miriam said, gesturing at her phone.

  Biting her tongue, Heather took a deep breath. “I want you to stop it.”

  Miriam watched, waited, then lifted a solitary eyebrow. “Stop…what, Heather? I’m not omnipotent. Spit it out.”

  “The mating ceremony. Between me and Leonen. I can’t go through with it.”

  Her mother sighed, looking skyward. “Back to that again?”

  “Back to it? I’ve barely spoken about it since you told me it would be happening.”

  “I thought we had come to an agreement on this, daughter?” Miriam said, her voice devoid of any emotional attachment to the last word. This was business, pure and simple.

  “No, you came to a decision on it. I was never given the option to say yes or no, but I’m telling you now, I’m saying no, Mother. I can’t do this. I won’t do this.”

  “Yes, you will,” Miriam said, her words clipped and acidic. “You will do it because it is your duty. To me, to this family, and you require it, to the House overall.”

  “Duty,” Heather spat. “What a convenient word to convince me to do whatever it is you want.”

  “Don’t forget, daughter, that for thirty years, I have expended resources and effort to keep you where you are, comfy and plush. Would you prefer that instead, you were rotting away inside of some cell, desperately hoping to be set free on your thirty-first birthday when you could then try and live some semblance of a normal life? Except, of course, you wouldn’t know what a normal life was.” Miriam sighed again. “You’ve seen the statistics, haven’t you? I’ve shown them to you.”

  “I have,” Heather said. “The odds of the virus manifesting are ten times higher for those female shifters forced to live their lives in confinement.”

  “Exactly! I am doing this for you,” Miriam said. “I want my daughter to have the best chance to live a long, healthy life. Like myself. My mother did the same thing for me, you know.”

  And look how you turned out.

  Heather managed to refrain from saying the words, but she must not have kept her face from betraying them. Miriam scowled at her.

  “Arranged matings are normal and they can work.”

  “Oh, right, like you and Dad?” Heather spat before she could think, the words just coming out.

  “Your father and I splitting up was a business decision,” Miriam said stiffly. “It made more sense for him to go a separate path. I miss him dearly.”

  Heather managed to stop from rolling her eyes, but barely. Her father had been killed during a fight with House Ursa several years before they had left for Australia. The steady parade of lovers to her mother’s bedroom since didn’t do much to convince Heather that Miriam missed him at all.

  “The only reason you and Father even tolerated one another was because both of you were obsessed with more power,” she said instead, not caring she was speaking of things usually left unsaid. “When it became clear you could do better by using sex to get what you wanted as well, you kicked him out. You never loved him, don’t lie to me. I’m not stupid.”

  “Then quit acting like it,” Miriam snapped. “This is how you get to power. It is what you must do.”

  Heather slammed a closed fist into her palm. “You don’t get it, Miriam, do you? I. Don’t. Care. About. Power.”

  “Then don’t do it for that,” Miriam said, her voice still frosty. “Do it because you owe your family for the protection it has given you. Or because of the stability it will bring to the House. Look at the bigger picture.”

  “Stability?” she laughed. “You intend to challenge Logan for the throne once you have this new power bloc. Anyone with two brain cells can see that.” Heather paused. “Except perhaps Leonen. I think he still believes he’ll be the new leader.”

  “It will consolidate two factions into one,” Miriam said, speaking slowly as if talking to a child. “This will, after dealing with your mate, leave me in charge of one bloc. Logan will deal with me, and together we will help guide this House into a new era of peace.”

  The words sounded flowery and glowing, but Heather had to wonder about their truthfulness. Her mother wouldn’t be content compromising with Logan. In time, she would have him moved aside. Somehow.

  “Do you truly intend on throwing away all the sacrifices your family has made for you? It’s not as if I’m the only one that has fought to keep you where you are,” Miriam added.

  Heather shook with fury at the reminder. It made her angrier because it was the truth. Brothers, her father when he was alive, uncles and cousins had all stood up for her, kept her safe from physical harm when she was young, and used their own power to help keep her free from a cell.

  If she threw off her family’s protection now, all their efforts and sacrifices, things that had been done for her because she was of their blood, it would all be a waste.

  Heather sagged, knowing she couldn’t betray her family. Not like that. They deserved better from her.

  After a year, you can leave him. You won’t need anybody. Just t
welve months. You can suck it up.

  Heather honestly didn’t know if she could, but the least she could do for her family was try. They deserved that much from her.

  Didn’t they?

  “I hate you.”

  Miriam shrugged. “It will pass. I hated my mother for a long time as well. Then I grew to understand her.”

  Heather shivered. “I think I would rather succumb to the Loup-Garou than ever become anything like you.”

  “So you say now,” Miriam clucked. “That’s one problem down. Now if only we could get everyone else to settle down and use their words like you and me, life would be much easier.”

  Visions of leaping across the couch and getting her hands around Miriam’s neck played across Heather’s eyes, but she refrained from giving in to such temptation.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, curious as to the reference.

  Miriam frowned. “You haven’t heard?”

  “No. Heard what?”

  “I thought your friend the King would have told you by now,” Miriam said, putting an emphasis on the word King to show she disapproved of Heather’s friendship with Logan.

  If only you knew the truth, Mother, she thought, almost subconsciously touching her stomach.

  “He doesn’t tell me everything,” Heather said. “What’s happened now?’

  Miriam sighed and started to tell her the newest drama in House Canis.

  As she listened, Heather grew even angrier than she’d been before.

  He promised!

  26

  “There’s a lot of them this time, aren’t there?” Lucien asked out of the corner of his mouth, seated at Logan’s right.

  “They scare easily, but they always come back, and in greater numbers too,” Linden muttered from Logan’s other side.

  “Behave, both of you. I need to keep a straight face,” Logan growled under his breath, both chastising his men but also letting them know he agreed with their opinions.

  The trio, along with the rest of the current Council of House Canis, were seated, watching the procession enter the Throne Room and array itself against them.