Taming the Alpha

by Mandy M. Roth

  “What are you guys supposed to be?” A woman with short black hair stopped in front of them, her arms linked with two blonde friends. She had to yell over the music to be heard. The blondes’ giggles were lost in the noise.

  “I am Kyran,” he said, bowing his head. His voice was gruffer in speech than the humans’ accents, but there was nothing to be done for it.

  “Oh, you’re European!” one of the blondes exclaimed, batting her eyelashes at Ivar.

  “No, I am a draqueen,” Ivar stated bluntly.

  “Drag queens, eh? I should’ve known,” the black-haired woman answered. She frowned as the three of them looked the princes over. “Well now, that’s a real pity, boys. You come find us if you decide to swing both ways.”

  The four princes watched the women dance off into the crowd.

  “Perhaps, we should tell them we’re European,” Rafe mused. “That is at least the tenth time you scared females off by saying you’re a draqueen. Maybe they’re not used to talking to royalty.”

  “Good idea,” Kyran said.

  “Perhaps we should have brought the scouts with us,” Ivar stated.

  “So they could report back to our parents?” Rafe snorted. “I think not.”

  “Let’s go procure drinks. Do we have that trading paper?” Kyran asked before the brothers could start arguing.

  “The transmissions say it is called cabbage or dinero or cash money,” Rafe explained, reaching into his white pants. “Ah, yeah, I… Here it is.”

  Kyran swiped it from him and walked toward the bar. He placed his palm flat on the wooden top. A man came up from behind. “What’ll it be?”

  “Four firewaters—” Kyran paused, trying to remember the words they’d been told to use, “—ah…amigo.”

  “Sorry, buddy, don’t know how to make a firewater amigo,” the man answered.

  Kyran glanced around. Seeing a tall glass of pink liquid in front of the woman next to him, he pointed and said, “Give me that.”

  “Twenty,” the man said, leaving to pour the drinks. Kyran glanced around and then shrugged. Twenty what?

  As he waited, he again scanned the crowd. There were several pretty ladies, but none he wanted to take home to be his bride. Many were too loud, too gaudily dressed, hanging too freely on other men—some of them two or more. One thing was for sure, when he got his bride home, he would not be allowing her to touch other men like this. Such things were not done. Maybe it was time they tried another location. Surely they couldn’t be faulted for not getting it right the first time.

  The man came back with the four drinks. Kyran put the colorful trading paper down on the counter. “Many thanks.”

  “Twenty,” the man repeated.

  “Ah,” Kyran nodded in understanding as he gestured down to the papers.

  The man picked it up. “Sorry, buddy, does this look like a bank? I need twenty American.”

  “We’re European,” Finn said.

  “That’s nice, fellas, but we only accept American money here.”

  Kyran took a deep breath. He was about to refuse the drinks when a husky feminine voice stopped him. “Just put this round on my tab, Bill.”

  He saw Finn smile. Kyran turned. It was the blue-brown-haired singer.

  “And get me another shot of to-kill-ya, would ya?” she added.

  “One tequila comin’ up,” Bill answered. He didn’t move far as he poured a drink into a tiny glass. Kyran assumed she didn’t drink too much, being as she was so small compared to a man of his size.

  The singer winked at him and he found himself staring into her hazel green eyes in surprise. “Howdy, partner. Is that a pistol in your pocket?”

  Kyran glanced down, patting his waist. He didn’t have anything. The woman laughed. It was a nice sound, deep and honest.

  She pinched the tiny glass and then tossed her head back to drink. Gasping afterward, she slid the glass toward Bill. “Give me another.”

  “Anything for you, love.” Bill blew her a kiss.

  Kyran stiffened, balling his hands into fists, ready to fight the man for the woman’s attention. Ivar placed a hand on his arm and shook his head once. Kyran forced himself to relax. Nodding, he picked up the drink she’d gotten for him and said, “Many thanks, m’lady.”

  The woman gave him a big smile and then turned her attention to the others. Kyran didn’t drink but set the glass back down as he studied her. She had an impish grin that went well with her sparkling dark-lined eyes. If he’d been asked what he was looking for in a mate, she wouldn’t have been his description. Still, there was something inside him—a primal, urgent lust that called out to her. His body tightened, becoming aroused. He was thankful for his tight jeans, as it kept the blood from flowing too readily into his shaft.

  The singer took another drink, tilting her head back in the same quick fashion as before. She motioned to the bartender for another. The man was there with the bottle, instantly pouring one. She drank that one as well, gasping for breath afterward. “Whew, that’s what I’m talking about!”

  Kyran wondered if maybe it’d be smarter for her to buy a larger glass. Then she wouldn’t have to keep refilling it when she was thirsty. Bill refilled the dainty glass yet again and then left to help other customers. Kyran was glad the man was gone. The woman studied the other princes intently.

  “I get ninja boy here and the Navy scene, but—” the woman pointed at Ivar, “—what are you supposed to be?”

  “Prince Ivar of the Var.” Ivar bowed his head.

  “We’re European,” Finn offered quickly.

  “Really.” The woman chuckled, only to wryly add, “I would’ve taken you boys for locals.”

  Kyran tensed as her gaze again met his. For some reason, he couldn’t force himself speak. He didn’t know what to say to her.

  “Dance with me, cowboy,” the woman said, her tone dipping slightly. His body lurched with excitement. She leaned close and licked her lips. “It’s my birthday and I want to celebrate.”

  “You look like an honorable planet. I have a home and a brother,” he said, nervously trying to get out his preplanned speech. “The trees are castles.”

  “English isn’t your first language, is it? No worries, I don’t need you for conversation.” Stealing the hat from his head, she sauntered onto the dance floor, joining the crowd. Her slender body swayed to the music as she wound her arms above her head. Kyran tilted his head to the side as he watched her hips. He didn’t follow her, only stared.

  “Well?” Rafe broke into his daze, thrusting one of the pink drinks at him. “This one seems to like you. Why don’t you go see if you like her?”

  “I didn’t detect a man’s mark on her or a finger shackle,” Ivar said. “She doesn’t appear to be taken or owned.”

  “She’s pretty, though strange.” Finn patted his brother’s shoulder. “I’m confident the hair can be fixed. It could be worse. I saw a woman whose locks were pink.”

  “She did not run when I told her who I was,” Ivar added logically. “It should make for an easy adjustment to our planet.”

  The men nodded thoughtfully, each taking a drink of the pink liquor at the same time. Kyran gagged and they each spit the disgusting drink out. A few nearby females screeched in protest as it sprayed by their feet. The women stormed off. The princes quickly set the glasses down.

  “Vile,” Rafe exclaimed. “How can humans drink that?”

  “I’m not sure…” Kyran began, still unnerved from having the woman stand so close. Her lips had been right within reach and he’d wanted nothing more than to kiss her. Just then, the man who’d been on stage making music with the singer danced to where she was on the floor. As the man swept her off the ground, tossed her over his shoulder and danced her about in circles, she held onto Kyran’s hat.

  Kyran’s gut tightened in annoyance. The woman screamed, her laugh ringing over the crowd. Who was this man? Why did she let him grab her?

  “You missed your chance,” Ivar stated.
“That other male is about to claim her for himself.”

  “You think that’s what he is doing?” Finn wondered aloud. “It would make sense. Didn’t some of the elders say human men would ride into the village and cart the woman of his choice off? What did they call them?”

  “Raiders,” Rafe answered. “Or Vikings.”

  “Perhaps this will be easier than we feared. If women are used to being claimed in such a method, they will offer little protest us stealing them away to our home.” Ivar sighed. “Look, he’s putting her down. He must have changed his mind. Go, quick, and claim that one so we can get back to the portal. There’s really no guarantee how long it will be open. The portal is old. What if it stops working?”

  “Do we have to?” Rafe pouted. “But—”

  “You will find your mate soon enough, brother. Patience,” Ivar said.

  “Who’s talking about a mate?” Rafe grumbled. “I’m talking about carnal mating.”

  Kyran didn’t bother to interrupt as he strode onto the dance floor. It was decided. He would claim her and be done with it. Besides, there was something about her that stirred his blood. She would make a fine bed partner. Someone with so much energy would be lively between the sheets. A woman would have to be spirited to satisfy her Draig husband’s sensual needs.

  As for the hair, if it could not be fixed, he would order her to cover it with a headdress. Many of the alien species they’d come across had such anomalies if not more. Surely he was just being paranoid about the other Draigs accepting her. If she acted like a queen, as he would instruct her to do, there would be no problem.

  He let a slow grin spread over his features. The idea of bedding her brought him much pleasure. No more nights alone stroking himself to completion. Kyran relished the idea of a willing woman, but even more so of a wife.

  His body hard with arousal, he stepped up to her, standing still as her eyes met his. Her smile faded some and she stopped dancing. The crowd swayed around them, but Kyran didn’t care. All he saw was her.

  “I choose you, m’lady,” he stated.

  She pursed her lips and rocked lightly on her feet. Her words a little slurred, she asked, “Do ya now, cowboy?”

  “I am a cowman.”

  “Are you?”

  “Yes, I am not a boy. I earned my manhood many years ago in battle. I choose you.”

  “Is that so, cow man?”

  “Yes.” The statement was simple, truthful. He had chosen her. This woman was now his bride. His stomach clenched as he waited for her reaction. It wasn’t what he’d expected.

  The woman lifted up on her toes and pressed her mouth boldly to his. The contact took him by surprise and he didn’t react quickly enough. A low hum sounded and then she pulled away, dancing once more.

  “Don’t you guys usually say ma’am, not m’lady? I think you’re getting your cowman confused with a knight in shining armor.” The woman winked at him and tipped down his hat so it shaded her eyes. It didn’t matter. He saw through the darker shadows over her face. “So which are you? Cowman or knight?”

  “Tonight? Both.”

  “Hmm, and what makes you think I would choose you?”

  He nodded in approval. It was a wise question. He should have to prove himself somewhat. Instead of using his voice, he spoke to her as she had him. He reached for her and then lifted her before him and placed his lips firmly to hers. She gasped but didn’t fight to be let down as he opened his mouth. The sting of liquor met his tongue, and a second later, she had her legs wrapped around him and was kissing him deeply as if she would devour him.

  He held her easily. Humans were so frail compared to the heavier weight of dragonshifter women. A little moan escaped her when he devoured her in return. Finally, pushing away, she breathed heavily and whispered, “Well, happy birthday to me.”

  He grinned and set her down on the floor once more. She smiled, her eyes flirty and light. There was interest in her gaze. He knew when a woman’s face revealed her attraction for him and hers showed it tenfold. Plus, he detected her desire for him, tasted it on his lips. It was sweet, tempting, arousing.

  “You should choose me because I am leader of men, future king—” he said.

  “Ah, a king amongst men,” she repeated. “Anything else?”

  Kyran nodded. “I can provide wealth, power, and I have proven myself a warrior. I can protect you, hunt for you—”

  She tossed her head back and laughed, cutting him off. “You’re awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you, cowpoke?”

  “Yes, I am, m’lady. My word of honor has never been questioned.”

  This statement only made her laugh harder. “Fine, cowman, fine. I believe you. Now enough talking. It’s overrated anyway. I want to dance.”

  The music changed and she swayed her hips seductively to the beat. Kyran didn’t move. He watched his future wife dance, confident that she was dancing for his pleasure alone. This was good. Things were accepted between them. They would be married. One night in the bridal tent, a little bonding, and it would be done.

  Kyran grinned. This was much better than trying to steal an unwilling woman while she kicked and screamed to be free. Maybe finding brides on Earth wouldn’t be so difficult after all.

  Chapter Four

  Eve grabbed her head and tried not to groan, refusing to open her eyes. Tequila shots with Paul had been a bad idea—a very bad idea. She felt like her eyeballs were about to explode out of her head. Part of her wished they would. Maybe then they wouldn’t hurt so much.

  Only on her birthday did she let herself go wild like that. Hey, once a year wasn’t bad when living in the bar scene.

  Her body was stiff and she suspected she was in need of a bath. She doubted she was up to finding one anytime soon. Though, curiously, she noticed there wasn’t the awful taste in her mouth—the cottonmouth sensation that came from too much partying. Had she brushed? Her mouth tasted like mint. Keeping her eyes closed, she decided it was a mystery best solved later. She would first try to fall back asleep. Just as she was on the edge of darkness once more, a sound penetrated her brain—birds singing. That’s when she noticed the smell of nature and the cool breeze brushing over her skin.

  Birds?

  Nature?

  In the city?

  What the…?

  Her eyes popped open. She was in a large red tent. There was a basin filled with water in the corner in front of her. Sitting up, she glanced around. Light streamed in from outside and a breeze came through a narrow flap. The tent was pyramid shaped and there was a large bed in the middle of the fur-covered ground.

  Eve tensed as she felt the bed shift. Biting her lip, she looked to the side to find an incredibly gorgeous man next to her. Black, shoulder-length hair was tousled over his broad shoulders and she couldn’t make out his face. He breathed softly in sleep, his back rising and falling in even tempo.

  His naked back. And naked arms. And naked hips and ass. And naked—everything.

  In light of her circumstances, Eve did the only thing she could think of. She screamed at the top of her lungs.

  The sexy man jerked, instantly on his feet as if ready to fight. She screamed again. He was huge. Bulging, oiled muscles covered every inch of him from thick neck to strong legs. There was nothing between her and his hard, bronzed flesh.

  Survival instinct kicked in, and she jumped off the bed. Bright blue eyes turned to her in confusion. Eve stiffened.

  Damn, but he was fucking hot.

  Something tickled her flesh, drawing her attention from the sexy, god-like man. She looked down. Her body was barely covered in a fine gauze and silk gown. The slinky material hugged tight over the hips and flared around the legs. The low neckline revealed a generous amount of cleavage. Her feet were bare.

  Who had changed her clothes? What was going on here? Surely Paul—

  “I did not get your name last night, my bride,” the man said. His voice sent chills over her.

  Eve’s eyes whipped to him. Then,
seeing the tent flap, she yelled, “Paul!”

  “Paul?” the man repeated. “You are called Paul?”

  Eve didn’t wait for him to finish before she started running out the front flap of the tent. It was awkward trying to move while trying to conceal her barely covered body parts with her hands, but she managed to make it outside. A giant forest surrounded the tent. The trees towered high above the ground and yellow ferns spread out over the area.

  “Paul, you got me,” Eve screamed. “You win the prank war!”

  Spinning on her heels, she hit flush against the naked man’s chest. He tried to put his arms around her, but she shoved him hard. She screamed once more, loud and long, stumbling back as she swatted away his pursuit.

  “I assure you, my woman, there is no need to speak so loudly. I am able to hear you quite well.”

  Eve made a run for the forest, only to stop as a giant blue parrot-like bird dove for her head and squawked in her face. The high-pitched sound rivaled hers. She tumbled back with another loud cry of alarm.

  Two strong hands grabbed her from behind and spun her around before she could even think to catch herself. She took a deep breath, intent on screaming again, when suddenly the man kissed her. The feel of his firm, hot lips pressed tightly to hers shut her up.

  Moaning weakly, she didn’t pull away. Her arms fell to her sides and she let him hold her. Every thought swam out of her head, leaving her in a sea of sweet emotions. Slowly, he moved his lips against hers, a tender caress as he tested her response to him. He edged his tongue along her lips, thrusting just inside the delicate boundary. He tasted good, like mint, and he smelled even better.

  There was something familiar in the kiss, like she’d done it before. Had she been with this man the night before? Instantly, she knew they hadn’t had sex. She liked to flirt with the men, but she wasn’t one for a casual fling. Besides, if the huge erection pressing into her stomach was any indication, her body would definitely feel the remnants of anything he might have done to her.

  He glided his hands around to the small of her back, rubbing in circles as he pulled her tighter to his frame. Hot, solid flesh molded to her, forcing her softer skin to conform to its will. Instinctively, she opened her mouth, moaning in approval for him to deepen the kiss. He did, delving his tongue deeper, exploring every inch of her mouth like he couldn’t get enough. It felt so good. He tasted like a potent drug she wanted to drink more of. Eve couldn’t remember ever being kissed with so much passion, so much desire. She would have to be dead not to respond to it.