Alpha vs Alpha

by Channing Sheffield

  “Yet,” Blade drawled.

  “Really,” I replied flatly then I frowned, focusing on his eyes. The flecks of green appeared to swim and spread. Now, this had gone too damn far. “We need to talk.”

  About whom Blade was, besides a werewolf, about what his pack was into, how he became Were, and how he knew my name, etcetera. I had boatloads of questions. Two in particular. Which one of these idiots was Blade’s ass-kisser who had territorial rights? I didn’t need another altercation on my hands before I caught some Zs.

  “Tomorrow.” I turned my back, marched to the farthest point in the cave, dropped and curled up, ready to shift into my winter coat.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Claiming my domain.” Behind Blade, one sated minion cobra-yawned, his fangs protruding and spittle spraying all who stood before him. Christ. “No one comes within five…” I looked up and down Blade’s tall frame, skipping past…okay, I looked and, damn! I thought I was the well-hung shifter. Raising my gaze quickly, I remembered his height and physique in werewolf skin. Sleeping with one eye open wasn’t a problem for me. “Within eight feet of me. Got it?”

  Laughter circulated from man to man. I lifted an eyebrow and grinned around my fine fangs.

  “Hamm,” Blade said. He sighed long. “We’re racing back to the house. You either follow or stay here and worry about your safety when you have no reason to fret. Hell, we’re hungry. The chef’s holding dinner for us.”

  House? And did he say “chef,” as in cook?

  Blade shifted to wolf, threw his head back, howled, and sprinted away, pack grunions dead on his heels. My inner wolf howled like a fool when they left.

  So, why the hell was I twiddling my thumbs on the issues? Safe passage, hot food, soft bed… I shifted and took off in hot pursuit.

  ~~~~~

  Like the canines we were, after running a two-mile contest (I placed second behind Blade, only because I had no idea where we were headed) across the property’s winter wonderland, and without preamble or booze or toasts, we chowed down on everything except flatware, china, crystal, and linens. Waldorf salad, hefty legs of lamb, crunchy green beans laced with sliced almonds, roasted, red potatoes marinated in parsley and butter, homemade yeast rolls… Phenomenal eats fit for a king. Chef Walker was on his game.

  My belly protested vigorously once I polished off the last two wedges of German chocolate cake. If I’d had room, I’d’ve finished off the apple pie, as well.

  Rubbing my distended belly, I shoved away from the round table and sprawled on the chair. There were five tables in all, seating for ten at each, and twenty-eight of us tonight. Twenty-seven rogues including the chef! Damn. Where had they come from? What packs had they abandoned?

  The “house” Blade spoke of, was actually a palatial medieval-style mansion turned resort spa, containing suites, standards, and single rooms, according to Raleigh Gaudet—a dark-skinned man who spoke French to Walker—and Drake Lundgren, the rangy dishwater blond who sported the same color coat in wolf form and stared through electric blue eyes. I assumed they were Blade’s right-hand men. There was a good possibility one was his lover, but I wasn’t sure. For all I knew, both held territorial rights since they sat beside Blade, opposite me, eyeing me warily throughout the feast. I matched their stare down. Wolves weren’t into chitchat during feeding time.

  At any rate, the occasional vicious and bloody fight hadn’t occurred. Close, though, when an omega grabbed the last leg of lamb from the long serving table. Blade rolled his eyes and, maybe telepathically, signaled Raleigh to intervene. There were no verbal communications or physical contact unless a stroking nudge took place beneath the tabletop. Could be an agenda problem later, I mused while scolding my inner wolf into putting a muzzle on the growls. In my township, when I was there, I manhandled bullies and idiots. Here, I wasn’t a pack member

  Anyhow, the scuffle came to an end. Raleigh restrained the aggressor with a chokehold. Towing the omega by the shirtfront, he hauled both out the wide doors where we’d all shook our coats dry on arrival. Beyond the illuminated, covered patio, snow fell heavily. Raleigh should toss their asses into the snow to cool off. A damn shame. After all these centuries, four-legged carnivores had yet to quell aggression over food. Or mating rights.

  Belly full to bursting, I closed my eyes, scooted down the chair, and yawned like the proverbial, contented king of the jungle after dining on water buffalo my devoted pride would’ve taken down. Suddenly, my chin itched…and neck, chest…

  “Long day?”

  Another one of those weird sensations swarmed over me. I opened my eyes slowly, swiveled my head around, and stared into Blade’s hypnotic gaze. “Yeah. Left at daybreak,” I replied and frowned. “Tell me something. Are my eyes deceiving me because I’m full, fat, and fatigued or are your…never mind. My brain must be in need of sleep.”

  There was that cocky grin. “My what?”

  The more I learned about this guy, the more information I passed to other packs. I scooted up in the chair. “Eyes. The color changes from hazel to green. Or both colors are apparent at the same time. I mean, besides when you jump Were and they switch to orange. Speaking of Were—”

  “Let’s get you to a room. We’re all tired.”

  Obviously. The one they called Jeremy—cobra-yawner—was exhausted. In dead snore, his mouth hung wide-open, dribbling, arms dangled beside his chair, shaggy, graying hair draped over the chair’s back support.

  “Gaudet, Lundgren, get him up and drive him home,” Blade ordered, “or call his mate if the roads aren’t too bad. Never should’ve let the old man tag along.”

  My questions forgotten for now, I followed Blade into a majestic, marble entryway toward what I supposed was closet quarters, eyeballing the buns of steel low-slung denim covered when I’d like to get my hands on his firm flesh. Sure wished he’d left his shirt off. The fire tattoo imprinted on his muscular back looked intriguing.

  Two signs directing “guests” pointed to dual, elegantly crafted staircases. Whoa. A mix of traditional and contemporary art and statues lined tan-colored walls everywhere.

  “Big place,” I said to break the silence.

  “Approximately fifty-five thousand square feet, not including four guest houses.”

  Damn. A crib requiring big ducats. I wondered how many humans and shifters he’d swindled, scammed, and cheated, were scouring the world for the man who’d ducked under the radar for years…decades. “How…where did you get the dollars to buy all this?” I demanded. When he turned to face me, I stepped into his personal space. “The mansion, miles of prime acreage. Who’s the real owner? Who takes care of business?”

  We were of equal height and I expected a modicum of wariness from Blade, even when his brawn outmatched most males. I refused to be intimidated by the power he exuded. I moved a bit closer.

  Blade held his ground. “Temps. Seasonals. Full-time employees. Basically, anyone—anyone who’s down on their luck and isn’t afraid of a little hard work. Unless they’re trying to bullshit me. I demand loyalty, Hamm. All I ask is you’re trustworthy and I will reward handsomely in the best possible fashion. What you give to me, you get back twofold. It’s the only way meaningful relationships thrive. On the hand, defy me or those close to me and I will retaliate in a manner you will never forget.”

  Said he who breezily skipped over too many details and continued onward. I grunted to myself.

  Seconds later, new thoughts pushed all else my mind. The man said “I”? This guy was Villere? Hard to believe a werewolf was among the elite class, and he gave me an excellent blowjob to boot? Hell’s bells. My last query was too vague, gave him excess room to manipulate an answer. And I bet his retaliation mechanism was frightening hell for anyone who pissed him off and thought to get away with it.

  He stopped beside a ten-foot door, not too far from enormous, double doors located at the end of the hallway. I wondered where they led.

  “Here we are. Anything you need
?”

  Besides a bed and partner? Forget the bed. I needed a partner geared up to ignite the next bonfire. I had a woodie ready to burn, and I was seriously working to throw off a few enticing pheromones. Evidently, it wasn’t happening. Blade opened the closet door and ushered me inside.

  Holy… Seriously? What I thought to be a closet was instead a frigging suite of the mega kind.

  Plush wall-to-wall carpeting, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the patio on one side and the gates to the forest on the other, substantial leather furniture, including a wide, and loaded, mahogany bookshelf dressed the living room. Even a wet bar with fridge, nuker, built-in coffee/latte machine. A half bath for guests? This place was totally tricked out.

  "Sweet," I murmured.

  I found my way into the bedroom.

  Mostly the same type of décor besides the dual king bed. The bathroom was twice the size of my parents’ master bath. Better equipped: Japanese soaking tub facing the snowy scene, brushed nickel fixtures, dual, stone vessels, and steam shower. Heated slate tiles beneath my bare feet. A tall piece of mahogany furniture housed towels and toiletries. Two, thick terrycloth robes hung on wall hooks. Heavy-duty slippers matching the fabric sat in a nearby basket. Luxury at its best.

  “This is great. And the bed is big enough for you and me,” I hinted. “How about we set the sheets—”

  My superior hearing registered the main door clicking closed. I spun around.

  “On fire,” I finished to no one caring to listen.

  Hell. Lost my chance at payback. Sighing at my wolf’s whimpering—you’re acting too damn needy today and, goddammit, I told you to stifle it—I stripped out of the jeans Blade lent me (I refused the shirt) and hit the shower. Heat always quieted the animal inside. Did the wolf listen to or feel the water’s calm? No. Whine, whine, whine. Shit. To soothe its restless behavior, I stroked my cock until hot blood rushed to all extremities. Release damn near sent me to the tiled floor, erupting like a volcano all over my chest while I gasped, struggling for every breath. Soaring solo wasn’t enough. Not for the wolf, not for me.

  I toweled off, belly-flopped diagonally across the bed, squirmed until I found a cool spot on the sheets for my overheated body, which had begun to itch like a bitch from the top of my head to the soles of my damn feet.

  “Jesus Christ,” I mumbled. Piping hot showers had never jacked with my skin. Why now?

  There’s gotta be something in the air or water affecting me, from the time I trespassed onto Villere property. Something.

  Too hot, I scrambled off the bed and yanked the terrace door open to colossal snowflakes. An icy wind slithered over my skin. Instant cool down. The first blizzard of the season did wonders for the mind. I inhaled deeply, then exhaled with gusto and stood motionless. Let clean, mountain air calm body and soul while my brain flashed scenes of me galloping through the woods on all fours. Chasing or being chased, I wasn’t sure.

  Finally…finally around midnight I collapsed into bed, exhausted. And the dreams tormented me further yet.

  ~~~~~

  I bolted upright, sweating, panting, the top sheet tangled around my ankles. Pissed.

  The bedside clock read eight-oh-seven. Somehow, I’d overslept. And I knew why.

  I bounced off the mattress and started for the door. Then I quickly changed my mind. I needed clothes before the argument began and I found the jeans where I’d left them hanging on the bathroom door.

  Barefoot, I charged out of the suite, down the hall, marched through the elaborate entryway, and on to the dining area. No one, goddammit. Where the hell was everybody? Kitchen. I burst through the swinging door.

  “Where’s Villere?” I shouted as Walker swung around, meat cleaver raised above his head until he saw me, the intruder. Villere’s newest guest, luckily, or I suspect I’d’ve lost my head.

  Eyes sparkling gold, the chef stabbed his hefty knife into the butcher-block, cutting board. “Conference room. Before you set foot in there, you’d better settle down or—”

  “And where the hell is this place?” I yelled. Last night, no one mentioned a damn buzz session taking place. Chances were Villere and his entourage of rogues had met sub rosa to sketch out my ultimate demise. After all, if they were embroiled in duplicity, four wolves had been murdered, their brains fried from somebody’s silver bullets. Dad was right; Villere’s faction followed the culture of secrecy.

  “Opposite end of the wing from yours and Blade’s suites.”

  That small bit of information reinforced and escalated the bitterness racing through my blood. I marched away, Walker’s final words falling on deaf ears. My anger had been percolating from the moment I woke. Now, violent rage rose, boiled, seeped through every pore.

  As I approached the conference room, I balled my hands into battering rams, and I plowed both into thick, massive doors, sent them crashing against support walls.

  Three nursing bear cubs scampered off the rust-colored, fainting sofa where their mother had been relaxing and hightailed up an artificial tree erected near seamless, connecting corner windows. Roaring, the grizzly bear mother, who stood at least eight feet tall, instinctively protected her young, huge claws pawing the air, readying to charge me. Behind the sofa, a built-in, armored cabinet housed an array of firearms. I growled ominously.

  To my utter surprise a muscular, black jaguar of the female type crouched near Blade’s antique mahogany desk, snarling, her tail writhing and slapping the wood. On the desk’s right side, two bristling wolves I scented as Raleigh and Drake had poised to lunge. Cats and canines rarely, if ever, congregated to chat.

  The worst of my challengers stood atop the lengthy glass conference table; the biggest liger or tigon I’d ever seen glared in my direction, mouth open in what resembled a sneering smile that didn’t reach its pale green eyes. Its golden fur was faintly striped, its paws the size of dinner platters. I swallowed thickly, intimidated by the animal’s sheer size. Behind the table, loaded, built-in bookshelves covered half the wall. The other half, and all behind Blade, was glass presenting the world’s most superb view of snowy peaks and valleys. I was impressed and partial to Colorado’s mountain ranges over any others.

  Obviously, Blade remained impervious to my archaic entrance. Hair tied back off his smooth forehead, he sat behind his desk, rocking the leather chair, stroking a tiny, calico kitten, his tight-fitting, black T-shirt emphasizing his powerful physique and flawless, bronzed complexion.

  I couldn’t care less if his army of warriors opposed me. I had surpassed pissed, postured for battle—legs braced apart, knees slightly bent, big fists raised. “You son of a bitch! You drugged me then fucked me in the ass last night. I oughta wring your neck with your goddamn tail.”

  Growls rumbled throughout this oversized meeting room, their vibrations rattling inside my chest.

  “I’ve done no such thing,” Blade replied as he rose from his throne, the kitten he cradled purring louder with every stroke of his hand. When I opened my mouth to protest the lie, he glared gold daggers at me and said to the rest of his war party, “Leave us.”

  Sure as shit, we were doomed to tear this room apart in a feral clash that only savage beasts instigated. Blade required no one’s aid and, dammit, neither did I.

  Momma Bear shimmered and transformed into a brunette babe, her long, wavy hair, tipped with silver, reaching the curved bottom of her round ass. Standing six two or three, she coaxed her frightened cubs down from the treetop, gathered all three into her arms, hugged them, and carried the fat, whimpering cuties out of the room, ignoring me. Although, catching a whiff of her hostility, I suspect today could’ve been the second time I’d gotten my head swiped cleanly off my shoulders if her hands weren’t otherwise occupied. Plus, she was fully dressed in blue, button-down shirt and navy shorts! What the hell? How did she summon clothes?

  The jaguar was another story. She resisted Blade’s instruction, paced back and forth guarding him, never taking her narrowed eyes off her prey, which was
none other than me, unfortunately, until Blade cleared his throat. Sleek and graceful, the beautiful creature glided closer to me, sniffed my jeans at the knee, and then had the fucking audacity to nose my crotch.

  “Hey, knock it off,” I snapped, turning away from the uncalled-for inspection. Jesus.

  With a chuff sounding genuinely disgusted, its thick tail lashed out, tagged my leg hard enough to cripple most humans.

  She shifted to an exotic Latin bombshell, possessing buzz-cut of ebony hair. Startling, wide-set, blue-green eyes blinked ever so slowly. She moved on. Wearing a neon red outfit, tight-fitting hiphuggers, short top gripping smallish breasts, and showing flat abs and narrow waist, her hips swayed effortlessly at the same tempo Brazilian hotties gyrated during seductive dance routines. I’d visited Rio a few years back. I couldn’t help watching her sexy hips in motion. So, why wasn’t I packing the usual hard-on?

  Raleigh’s and Drake’s immediate reactions were similar to the jaguar’s initial response. After shifting, their scowls mimicked gargoyles while they monitored me. I knew silent communication passed between Blade and the wolves before they wandered out to the hallway. Sentinels.

  Now this had gone too damn far. I’d never seen a shifter shift and end up dressed. Must be magic in the air.

  “Go on, Tige,” Blade said. “Follow Saba and be a good boy.”

  The animal leaped a good twenty feet in a single bound, landed in front of me. Scared the shit out of me too, caused my gums to ache, fangs threatening to extend. Silly me. Stupid of me to consider tangling with the largest feline on the planet sporting a throat big enough to swallow my bowling ball. Or my head.

  “Go on, now,” Blade said. “Don’t startle him, Hamm, or show aggression. He’s temperamental when agitated. At eleven feet and barely shy of nine-hundred pounds, the liger’s not easily controlled when he’s upset like he is now.”