Taming the Alpha

by Mandy M. Roth

  Madja could have gone on, but she stopped when she noticed that Sevrrn’s golden-bronze skin seemed unusually pallid.

  “Are you…worried about me?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer.

  She placed a hand on top of his. “Well, don’t be. Dying is just part of life. Besides, there will be no shortage of women who can take my place.”

  “I do not want another human,” he said stubbornly. “I want you. Only you.”

  Madja tried to formulate a witty response, but found that her throat had grown thick with emotion. So instead, she reached up and looped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.

  Sevrrn seemed confused at first, but fortunately he was a quick study. He moved with her, learning what she enjoyed and then trying a few things out for himself. As with everything else, he enjoyed using his teeth and she nearly melted when he began to nibble at her bottom lip.

  While they kissed, Madja began a tentative exploration of his body. There was so much to touch, but she found herself partial to his strong, muscled shoulders. As one of her hands glided over his chest, she stopped to brush her thumb over a flat nipple. The small gesture elicited a groan from Sevrrn.

  He pulled back, his face tight. “Touch me.”

  She suppressed a grin. “I am touching you.”

  Not interested in her games, he took her hand and wrapped it firmly around his cock. Still wanting to mess with him, Madja secured her legs around his hips and drew his hard length downwards, pressing the head against her damp entrance.

  Perhaps she had just been trying to play with him, or maybe that dark, unhinged part of her had wanted to push him over the edge, but either way, she had only herself to blame for what happened next.

  As soon as his turgid organ came in contact with her warm, soft cleft, he made a sound she’d never heard from him—or any living creature—before. It was a strangled noise, something between intense pain and intense longing.

  It was all the warning she had before he pushed inside of her.

  All the way inside of her.

  She had known that the first time would be painful, but not quite so much. She cried out, hands gripping his shoulders as tears clouded her vision.

  The only thing that prevented the moment from being an absolute nightmare was that Sevrrn remained perfectly still within her. When her vision cleared, she saw that he was staring down at her, breathing heavily.

  His eyes squeezed shut as a shudder ran the length of his large body. When he opened them, he seemed to be baffled by something.

  In a rough and nearly unrecognizable voice, he said, “Blood. I smell blood.”

  She placed a hand on the side of his face. “I’ve never had a man inside of me before.”

  His eyes narrowed. “And you never will. Only me.”

  Only a dragon.

  It was her last thought before he began to move within her. Most of the pain had faded, though she was still uncomfortable, much too uncomfortable to climax. Still, she took a far deeper and much more intimate pleasure in watching his face as his thrusts grew harder and more urgent.

  In the seconds before he took his release, Sevrrn’s face contorted, first with pain and then with pure, unadulterated wonder. He threw his head back, letting out a roar of triumph as he poured his seed deep within her.

  He collapsed on top of her, his body slick with sweat. Madja had never seen him look quite so worn out and so she allowed him a few moments to collect himself before she smacked him on the shoulder.

  Sevrrn drew his head back to frown at her. “You struck me.”

  He sounded more perplexed than annoyed.

  “You were supposed to pull out of me.”

  It seemed to take him a moment to ascertain what she was referring to, and when he did, he merely shrugged one shoulder.

  “Ah, yes. I was comfortable inside, so I decided to stay.”

  Her mouth fell open. “That’s your excuse? What if you get me pregnant?”

  Sevrrn shrugged again. “That would be interesting.”

  Madja knew then that even if Sevrrn somehow made her immortal and they spent the rest of eternity with one another, he would still manage to say things that completely floored her.

  While incredulity and wrath battled for dominance within her, Sevrrn gathered her up into his arms. Carrying her over to her bed, he put her down gently and laid down beside her, covering them both with a blanket.

  By the time she had her angry rant prepared, Sevrrn was sound asleep beside her.

  Epilogue

  Sevrrn growled his displeasure as he slipped from inside of her. He hated that part of mating. Leaving his human’s body was his least favorite part, right after all of the nonsense that led up to the part where he entered her.

  He had been mating with her for a week now, and he still did not understand why she needed to be touched and fondled so much before he could be inside of her. Why couldn’t she always be ready? He certainly was.

  “You can’t always be inside of me,” she said, resting her head on his chest.

  “Is that a challenge?”

  She poked his chest. “I know better than to challenge a stubborn dragon.”

  Ignoring the offensive finger, Sevrrn grabbed two of the blankets from her pallet, using them to cover their bodies. Even in his human form, Sevrrn was perfectly capable of regulating his body temperature. Madja’s body was much less efficient than his and he liked to cover them both in order to trap his own body heat, thus ensuring she always stay warm.

  She would not freeze to death on his watch.

  Her finger began to trace circles around his nipple. He liked that.

  “Sevrrn, I’ve been thinking. Since you don’t seem all that interested in having your treasure appraised anymore, maybe I could leave the lair from time to time. You know, go to the marketplace, or something.”

  His mind immediately conjured a thousand ways she could meet her demise between the mountain and the market.

  “No.”

  A thousand times no.

  She lifted her head to frown at him. “Why not?”

  You are too frail. You are not to go anywhere where I cannot protect you.

  “Do not question me.”

  She rolled her eyes. He hated that.

  “Look, how about you come with me? You could take your human form. No one would even know who you are.”

  He scoffed. “Human form or not, I am still a dragon and dragons have no business associating with humans.”

  Her brows rose. “What about me?”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m human and you associate with me.”

  Sometimes, she made no sense at all.

  “You are mine. It is different.”

  As usual, she did not seem to understand his superior logic.

  “You can’t just lock me away in here forever. I’m not one of your stupid trinkets.”

  Sevrrn coiled a strand of her hair around his finger. “Why wouldn’t I? You are far more valuable than anything I possess.”

  It was a calculated statement; one that Sevrrn knew would please her. He was right. She smiled.

  He closed his eyes, pleased that the matter was settled. He opened them again as she climbed on top of him to straddle his hips. He felt himself begin to harden and was pleased to know that he would soon be ready to mate again.

  His pleasure was short-lived as she began to speak.

  “We’re never going to find a way to make me immortal if we just stay sequestered in your lair. We should really get a move on it. My human life will be over before you know it.”

  Sevrrn strongly disliked it when she discussed her mortality.

  “And you know, I’ve been thinking, we should probably ask around. Maybe someone at the marketplace will have heard of an artifact or something that grants immortality.”

  Sevrrn knew of many such artifacts, all of which were either hidden away or closely guarded by his kin. Obtaining one would be no small fea
t, but he would manage. He was, after all, the most powerful being in existence.

  Still, he decided to humor her. “I will take this into consideration.”

  “They also have peppered beef on a stick.”

  Now that was intriguing. “Why do they put it on a stick?”

  “It makes it easier to grill and eat, I suppose.”

  “They grill it?”

  “Yes, and it’s very juicy.”

  He rubbed his chin. “Perhaps we will visit this marketplace. We will force them to surrender all knowledge of artifacts, as well as their beef on a stick.”

  Madja laughed. Why? He had not made a joke.

  “You know, we could just pay for the beef.”

  Sevrrn felt the beginnings of a headache. “You mean to give away my gold in exchange for goods?”

  Her smile widened. “If you think getting tribute is fun, just wait until you try shopping for the first time.”

  Placing a hand on the back of her head, he pushed it down so that she lay on his chest once more. He would have her later, he decided, after his headache was gone.

  “I am tired. Be silent and rest now, Madja O’aer.”

  She complied, as she always did when he used her name. Within moments, she was sound asleep, her small body curled against his.

  Though he’d intended on sleeping, Sevrrn found that he could not. He lay beside her as evening turned to night and night gave way to morning, listening to the soothing rhythm of her breathing, a sound that he found to be most invaluable.

  The End

  About the Author

  Viola Rivard is a bestselling paranormal and fantasy romance author. She loves writing about supernatural alpha males and the females that confound them. In 2015, she’ll be writing several novels in the universe featured in The Dragon’s Appraiser. If you enjoyed this novella, you’ll love the upcoming novel featuring Sevrrn’s brother, Kael—the other most powerful being in existence—and Lehrys, the young woman who leaves her monotonous life behind to teach him about the human world. Visit Viola’s website for more details and to join her mailing list.

  www.violarivard.com

  Taking on Tory

  by S. E. Smith

  Magic, New Mexico Book 2

  Discover what happens when a reclusive Werewolf finds out he isn’t the only one who likes to bite!

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank my husband Steve for believing in me and being proud enough of me to give me the courage to follow my dream. I would also like to give a special thank you to my sister and best friend Linda, who not only encouraged me to write but who also, read the manuscript. Also to my other friends who believe in me: Julie, Jackie, Lisa, Sally, Elizabeth (Beth) and Narelle. The girls that keep me going! —S. E. Smith

  Chapter One

  Simon stared out the large, arched windows of his beautifully furnished office. The unobstructed view of Charleston Harbor along the picturesque coast of South Carolina did little to soothe the beast inside him. He could feel the creature he had become centuries before moving under his skin, straining to break free.

  He had been called many things over the years. Bastard was just one of the words used to describe him. While correct, it was not the only one that could be associated with him.

  He had been born in 1709 to an unmarried servant of a Lord in Worcester, England. By the age of eight, he had learned well at his father’s hand what it truly meant to be called the bastard son of a Lord. But, that was nothing compared to the other word that could describe what he would later become…. Werewolf.

  His lips curved upward as he stared out at a passing yacht. Only a handful of trusted people knew what he truly looked like under the sleek, sophisticated exterior he showed the world. He often wondered what the men and women he had associated with over the centuries would have thought if they had known the truth about his identity.

  Simon didn’t bother turning when the door to his office opened after a soft knock sounded. He could see Youssef briefly bowed in the reflection of the tinted glass before he stepped into the room. While Youssef and he had many similar characteristics, they were also vastly different.

  Both men were tall, muscular, and deadly, but in different ways. Youssef was still human where Simon was not. Simon bore the light coloring of his English ancestry. He was tall, elegant, wealthy and handsome with his shoulder-length blonde hair tied at the nape of his neck, dark blue eyes, and aristocratic features. Youssef, on the other hand, had the dark features of his native homeland of Morocco. His family had served Simon for the past three hundred years, passing down his secret from parent to child.

  He turned as another knock echoed through the room. This time it was the new clerk his personal assistant had hired. She smiled seductively as she stepped into the room and handed him the papers he had requested an hour before. A brief glanced showed him that she would not last long, the calculating look proved she would be a liability

  He would have to speak with Colin, his personal assistant, again. The last thing he needed was complications. It wasn’t like he had difficulty finding female company if he wanted it. Unfortunately, Colin thought a little eye-candy, as he called it, made the office more interesting. He preferred his distractions in the bedroom, not the office.

  Simon had grown used to women swooning when he cast his attention upon them, while men cringed and fought for obscurity. Both could sense what he wanted from them, the women to slake his lust and the men to quench his need to hunt. He made sure he kept both desires away from his business life.

  “Do you need anything else, Mr. Drayton?” Amy Ashton asked as she stopped in front of him and looked up. “Anything at all?” She whispered, taking a step closer.

  Simon took the folder from her hands. “No, you are dismissed.” He replied bluntly with a glance at Youssef.

  A slight pout formed her perfectly outlined red lips, but she didn’t say anything else. Simon watched as she turned on her high heels and slowly walked toward the door. He knew she paused before she opened it to see if he was watching her. He waited until she quietly shut the door behind her before he looked up from the contract he was reading.

  “Get rid of her,” Simon ordered.

  Youssef’s lips quirked in amusement. “Colin is going to be disappointed. This one didn’t even last a full day,” he said, folding his arms across his chest.

  “I’ll have a talk with Colin,” Simon replied, turning back around to stare out the window again.

  It was growing late and the early evening shadows were beginning to dance along the sidewalk. The beast inside him moved restlessly, needing to run. Once again, Simon cursed the Werewolf that changed him.

  At eighteen, he had finally escaped the cruel control of his father only to have it replace by his Master. For the first twenty years, Sir Winston Boatwright had been his alpha. Simon was barely a man the year he was changed and discovered while Werewolves aged, they did so at a much slower rate than a human.

  What Boatwright had not expected, though, was for his pupil to learn as fast as he had, or to be so deadly. Simon had no regrets for killing his former master. Boatwright had enjoyed the years of torment and torture too much for him to have feelings for the old Werewolf.

  Boatwright lived to create more monsters in the image of himself. He pitted his creations against each other in a hellhole where he invited unsuspecting human aristocrats to come place their bets. It made Boatwright a very wealthy and powerful man, while at the same time giving him more victims for his sadistic games.

  Simon rubbed at the faint scars around his left wrist. He had been kept chained until the fateful night he escaped. Boatwright had made a lethal mistake that had given Simon the chance for freedom.

  He had invited a few wealthy human females to partake of the savage beast’s lust. Boatwright enjoyed watching as the women took advantage of the raging desire that drove him almost to insanity. A Werewolf’s sexual craving was a powerful and dangerous thing.

  La
dy Mary Quincy didn’t listen to the careful instructions given to her before entering his chamber. The stout pin holding up her thick hair was the tool he needed to pick the locks binding him. As she rode his body, he used his teeth to capture the loose pin. He slipped it into his mouth and held it tightly against his cheek until she and Boatwright were through with using his body for their pleasure.

  Three nights later, he had escaped after killing his handlers. Boatwright had chased him through the streets of London, but the fighting had hardened his body until he was the ultimate killing machine. He had quickly defeated his former master and left his body in the burning remains of a hut on the outskirts of town.

  After killing Boatwright, he had gone after the second man responsible for his captivity. It had taken him three weeks to work his way north to the country estate of the man who had sold him to his Master in exchange for wealth and power. He had taken his time killing his half-brother, Henry Manning. That was another death that he had no regrets over.

  At almost three hundred years old, he had seen the best and worst of humanity. At first, it had been difficult for him to control the beast that moved inside him. It had taken him almost a quarter of a century to harness it. Youssef’s great-great-great grandfather had been instrumental in helping him.

  “You should let the past go, my friend,” Youssef said in a quiet voice, watching the figure standing in silent readiness. “You need to hunt.”

  Simon pulled away from his reverie and nodded. “Tonight,” he replied. “My quarters are ready?”

  “Yes,” Youssef responded.

  “Good…,” Simon’s voice faded as a figure on the street below his office suddenly caught his attention.