Royal Alpha

by Riley Storm

  Something stirred in her, and Logan went wild as she suddenly came alive. Wordlessly, she pushed him back onto the desk, then climbed on top. Logan was unsure if he could continue so soon, but the instant she took him inside her, he knew that was a lie.

  “Oh fuck,” Heather moaned, hips grinding into him as she captured every last fraction of an inch. “That’s it. So good.” Her fingers dug into his chest as she rode him hard and fast.

  Despite having just finished, Logan knew he was on the verge of going again.

  But so was Heather. She sat back, pushing her fingers between them. Logan was treated to a front row view this time as she fingered her clit. He put one hand on her breast, the other sliding up to her throat, where he applied a light pressure to either side.

  Heather’s eyes went wide. “Yes. Like that. Fuck.”

  Logan saw her entire body tense, and a second later, she shuddered through one of the sexiest orgasms he’d ever seen. His eyes drank the entire thing in, filing it away to remember at a later time. Her body shook, nipples hardening visibly even as her eyes rolled back into her head.

  He couldn’t hold back any longer. “Heather,” he groaned, his hips arching.

  She somehow retained the energy to slip off him, her hand grasping his shaft perfectly. Logan sucked in air while Heather used both hands to jerk him off. She bent over him, her breasts dangling right above his cock, tantalizing him. He stiffened, and a second load erupted all over them.

  Heather gasped and moaned, her eyes watching his cock as it pulsed and spurted, covering her left breasts with thick lines of his seed, much to her apparent delight.

  As the last of the orgasm passed and the afterglow descended, he fell back onto the desk with a dull thud, completely and utterly spent. A moment later, Heather joined him, the pair just lying there, slowly recovering their breath.

  “You know,” Heather muttered.

  “Yeah?”

  “We are in so much shit.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “We shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Do you have any regrets?” she asked.

  “Not at all,” he said. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

  “Flatterer,” Heather said, swatting at him weakly with a laugh.

  “I’m not kidding. It may have been brief, but the intensity…” he trailed off, not sure he had the words to accurately convey his feelings on the matter.

  “I’m still pulsing with aftershocks over here,” Heather agreed. “You won’t hear me arguing on my end. But uh, I do have one regret.”

  He frowned, sitting up, only to see a smile lurking on her face. “What?” he asked suspiciously.

  “I really liked that outfit,” she pouted. “Now I have to go home in a sweatsuit.”

  Logan shrugged. “You could always not.”

  Heather laughed. “I’m not going back naked!” she protested.

  Shaking his head, Logan grabbed her gaze and held it. “I meant you could always not go back. You could stay. With me.”

  She hissed, sitting up. “You know I can’t. You know why.”

  “What if I want you to stay?” he asked.

  “What we want, can’t be,” she said, getting off the desk. “Also, I’m using your shirt for cleanup.”

  He shrugged. His quarters were attached to the office, so it didn’t matter to him.

  “I’m sorry, Logan,” Heather said quietly, her eyes filling with sadness. “I can’t stay.”

  “But you want to,” he probed.

  “I can’t,” she said, troubled. “Not while I’m still to be mated to Leonen.”

  “But would you?” he pressed. “If you could?”

  She hesitated but then bent over the desk and kissed him. It was a soft, gentle touch that lingered on for a long time.

  “I would,” she said. “If I could.”

  Then she pulled away, her eyes clouding over with conflicting emotions.

  Logan didn’t say another word as she went into his quarters, grabbed a spare sweatsuit and fled into the secret passages.

  His guards would note that she didn’t leave through the door she’d entered. Rumors would fly. But he could deal with all that.

  It was his feelings for Heather that he was having a hard time handling.

  What am I supposed to do now?

  33

  “It’s going to be heavily fortified,” she observed as they did last-minute preparations.

  Beside her, Jennifer was in a deep trance. Every so often, bits of green-gold energy would spark from her hair or fingers, diving out and then back in.

  “There’s no avoiding that,” Logan muttered, removing his shirt. “He’s had time to dig in. We need to dig him out. This one, at least, is a trap we’re expecting. But we caught him red-handed. He can’t go anywhere.”

  “Maybe,” she admitted, looking over the lip in the road. “But why did he have to pick here?”

  The Plymouth Falls Hydro-Electric Dam was one of the largest in the area, and it supplied power to a lot of places, not just parts of Plymouth Falls. The sound of roaring water could easily be heard for miles away as it plunged through the dam and out the other side.

  “It’s remote. But there’s no way out. We’ll have to dig him out and hope he doesn’t bring the entire thing down on us, but I’m hoping his sense of self-preservation will prevent that.”

  She nodded, taking off her own shirt. None of the others so much as batted an eye. Even Logan only gave her a cursory glance, lingering for no more than a second. His attention was on the fight they had ahead of them.

  Plus, he should be adequately sexually satisfied for the rest of today at least.

  “Besides, we brought along enough fighters today to overwhelm him, no matter the odds. Even if we didn’t bring everyone.”

  A snicker ran around their attack squad at the not-so-subtle reference to Leonen and some of the other political shifters who hadn’t volunteered to accompany them. Heather looked around. Most of the shifters who had come were from the rebels that had helped Logan in the fight to retake Moonshadow Manor, men loyal to him, ones who knew what sort of man he was, what he was capable of. They would follow him wherever.

  Though the ancestral home of House Canis was safely back in their hands, the mission wasn’t done in the eyes of these shifters. It wouldn’t be over until the Tyrant King was dead and gone.

  Then, and only then could their House begin to truly heal.

  “I’m ready.”

  Jennifer spoke in a hollow, not-quite-there voice that sent shivers down Heather’s spine at the ethereal nature of it. She didn’t quite trust magic, even knowing that it was because of magic that she no longer had to worry about turning into a Loup-Garou.

  “Okay everyone,” Logan called. “Put your game faces on.”

  Heather hurriedly stripped out of the rest of her clothing, not wanting to be left behind, even as brilliant white fur erupted across Logan’s back and out to cover his sides as his body rapidly changed. Opening the path to her own animal, she continued to eye her King as he shifted.

  Logan was one of only several winter wolves that she’d ever come across, and it had been some time since she’d seen his other form. Even now, as her own body shuddered and reshaped itself, she stared in awe at the all-white covering of his massive beast. He was huge, towering over the other wolves, and absolutely looming over her as she finished shifting.

  The white muzzle came around to stare at her, and he nodded. Heather held back a smile, giving her onyx pelt a shake and settling in at his side. It felt right to be there, like she belonged with him, a smaller, faster version of the magnificent creature he’d become.

  Only one human remained in their midst, and she stood up now, a ball of wildly changing colored magic between both palms. Jennifer shouted, flinging the energy down the hill at the dam.

  Heather’s keen eyes tracked its progress until it exploded about ten feet shy of the building, sizzling against a golden dome that shimmered into vie
w. The green-gold magic ate away at the protective shield, until it abruptly collapsed into a shower of gold sparks.

  Logan cleared the ridge they’d been hiding behind with a casual leap, and the others up and down the line followed him. There wasn’t anything fancy about their attack. No secret team going in the back door. None of that. This was a frontal assault, plain and simple.

  Where are the defenders, she wondered as they loped to close the distance.

  The Tyrant King still had a number of shifters plus the ever-deadly Kraits at his disposal. If they were going to put up a fight, now would be the time.

  As if to emphasize her point, a bright green lance of energy nearly six feet long shot from a part of the dam, aimed right at Logan.

  It ran into a green-gold shield ten feet short of him and fizzled out. Heather snarled. The cowards were trying to take Logan out before they even closed.

  Pissed off by the personal attack as well, Logan burst forward into a sprint without warning. The other shifters raced to keep up. Heather ran alongside him, the pace easy for her to manage. She wasn’t as strong as the men, but she had better reflexes, and was all around faster.

  They cleared the sparse tree line and tore across the flat dirt that surrounded the complex, only pausing for a second to clear the ten-foot high fence in a single bound. Each wolf soared over it with ease, continuing to accelerate as they raced for the cluster of buildings and raised walls that marked the dam facility itself.

  Halfway there, wolves boiled out of every conceivable entrance. Ten. Twenty. Fifty. A hundred.

  Heather faltered as they kept coming. It wasn’t possible; the Tyrant King didn’t have this kind of support left. There weren’t this many wolf shifters in this part of north America still unaccounted for! Where had he gotten such numbers?

  She ducked under a charging gray beast, and then leapt for the back of another. All around her, Logan’s supporters were under attack, some having gotten the upper hand, but all too many being taken down by the superior numbers.

  It was a trap beyond their wildest imaginations.

  Light sizzled out from here and there, tossing five-hundred-pound wolves across the flat ground like they were rag dolls. Howls and yelps filled the air, some of them cutting off abruptly.

  Sinking her teeth into her victim, Heather ripped out a chunk of fur and flesh from the back of his neck, then flung herself free before her prey could react. She’d timed it perfectly, aiming to land on the back of another of the Tyrant King’s supporters.

  But she landed on empty air, bouncing and rolling twice as somehow, her target evaded her. How was that possible?

  A shape darted in at her from behind and she rolled, pawing at it as it passed, claws drawing blood. Then it was gone and she got to her feet. Something was wrong here. Something was off about the enemy wolves.

  More energy burst from hiding places, and Heather was forced to throw herself to the side as a green dart seared her flank, burning fur and skin below it, a painful reminder not to stay still.

  They needed the magic dealt with.

  Above her, the sky abruptly darkened and the sound of sheer power reverberated through her bones. Looking up, Heather watched a figure descend from the heavens, wielding a mighty weapon. Green-gold energy danced across her skin, filling her eyes.

  “Bring me Laurien!” the figure howled and dropped to the ground, driving her energized staff into the earth.

  Green-gold lightning exploded out in every direction, splitting tendrils as it went, impaling wolf after wolf, and flattening those nearest as the physical impact of the energy cast raced outward.

  Heather braced herself as the shockwave hit her, though the lightning passed her by. Looking around, she stared in awe at the effects of the spell as the Magi straightened her legs, energy still swirling around and through her body.

  Okay, maybe magic has its uses.

  All around her, the enemy wolves were shattering as the off-colored lightning filled them, bursting the shapes into shadows that dissolved into the ground. Plenty were simply bowled over or howled in pain as the spell hit them, but it revealed to Logan’s men just what was really happening.

  Illusions, she snarled, searching around for the nearest real bad guy. Most of them were just illusions, forcing us to try and choose who to fight.

  More magic shot forward as the Kraits realized their spell had been broken and worked to take care of the Magi.

  “Leave the magic to me,” Jennifer commanded, her voice filling the battlefield.

  She ripped her staff from the ground, twirled and thrust it at a concrete building. Lightning shot forward and the building abruptly imploded.

  A command howl echoed over the sound of energy coursing through the air, and Heather leapt to obey. There was still a job to be done. Darting forward, she slammed into a wolf just regaining its feet, a giant welt on its front left leg from where it had been struck.

  Heather didn’t give it a chance to recover. Her jaws opened and razor-sharp teeth sank into the exposed flesh of its neck. With a powerful shake of her neck, she ripped the wolf’s neck open in a welter of fur and blood.

  The victim tried to howl in pain, but it just emerged as a gurgle as the creature stumbled to the ground, the ground darkening as it drank deep, absorbing the blood.

  Something hit her in the side and the two went down, rolling over and over. She tucked her paws in and then lashed out with them as fast as she could over and over again. Her claws found purchase and fur parted again and again.

  She yelped as her opponent swiped one much larger paw across her lower chest, ripping her skin open. The pain was immense, but she couldn’t let it stop her. If she faltered one bit, she was dead.

  The two of them hit something hard that stopped their rolling. Luck was with her and the attacker—a charcoal-black creature—took the brunt of the impact, cushioning her. The jaws snapped at her but Heather was too quick. She was on her feet and out of range, the teeth closing on empty air.

  Spinning, she darted back in and ripped tendon and muscle from the hind leg, crippling it. Then she tore a massive piece of its exposed stomach open, doing her best to ignore both the tangy metallic-iron taste of blood in her jaws and the brutal pain in her chest.

  Her wound wasn’t fatal. Her opponent’s was, and she turned to engage the next attacker.

  But it was over. All around her, the fighting was slowly coming to an end. The Magi’s spell had revealed the true numbers attacking them, and suddenly, the balance had tilted heavily in the opposite direction.

  She whirled at the sound of an explosion, only to see a human male plummet from the sky, bouncing off the ground several times before coming to a halt, a familiar green-gold tendril of energy grounding itself in the nearby earth.

  I think Jennifer is a bit angry, she thought, her mouth dropping open in the wolf equivalent of a laugh.

  Logan wasn’t waiting around and she trotted over to his side, the two of them forming the point of a phalanx of wolves as they approached the main entrance to the dam.

  Jennifer came out of whatever building she’d been in and at a growled command from Logan, blew the main door in.

  Heather bared her teeth, eager to charge ahead, but this was Logan’s show. It was his fight that lay ahead.

  As much as both Heather and Jennifer wanted to get their hands on the Tyrant King as well, they both knew it had to be Logan. New King versus the old. She would keep any survivors off his back, but he wanted to do this on his own.

  But that didn’t mean she was going to let him go in there alone.

  Because being with him, side by side, was where she felt she belonged. Where she wanted to be.

  But will he accept me there?

  34

  What started off as a cautious probe of the main dam facilities quickly turned into an all-out charge. Logan was eager to finish things off. He’d had enough fighting and killing for a dozen shifter lifetimes. As odd as it sounded, he was looking forward to dealing wit
h politicians on a daily basis and having that be his biggest problem.

  Because those can be solved without people dying under my command.

  It wasn’t the killing that bothered Logan, so much as the deaths of those that fought under his banner. Died under it. Far too many of those who had come to support him after he’d split with the Tyrant King were now gone, left behind.

  Where are you, Laurien? His thickly muzzled jaw swung back and forth as he headed deeper into the large building, his followers spreading out behind him, checking every room just in case.

  Logan didn’t think he was there. Not yet. Laurien wouldn’t be waiting for them at the entrance like that. At a time like this, with the last of his supporters swept aside and a tidal wave of oncoming wolves hunting for him, the Tyrant King would have resorted to his true self.

  And cowards will always delay the inevitable.

  The Tyrant King would be on the lowest level, as far from the entrance as he could get. Logan just knew that was the case—it couldn’t be anything else. So, he picked up the pace, cautious for any traps, and led the wolves down the stairs.

  Silently, like death incarnate, they descended down and down, none of them needing to speak. Everyone knew their jobs. They knew what they were there for, and they just did it. No complaints, no outbursts. The only sound was the constant click of their huge claws against the concrete floor.

  Reaching the bottom floor, Logan proceeded cautiously. All around them, the huge generator equipment rose up into ceilings that grew dark toward the top. Pausing, he cast a glance up at Jennifer.

  She saw it, closing her eyes. Logan couldn’t see anything happening but he knew she was questing out with her magic. Looking for traps. It would have been far too easy for the Tyrant King to have lain some sort of explosive that would have collapsed the dam around Logan and his followers.

  Thousands of humans would die as well if the dam went out, but Logan doubted the Tyrant King cared. Or if he’d even thought about what such a wall of water rushing down through the valley would have done to the settlements there. If it didn’t concern him, then Laurien usually didn’t care about it.