Alliance: an Alpha Shifter Romance (Mated in Hell Trilogy Book 1)

by K. de Long

  Her father gestured through the open door, and Marrock offered her his arm. Her mind still racing, she accepted it grudgingly. She let her fingers rest lightly on his muscled forearm, let him escort her out to the rest of the pack.

  Please let me be making the right choice.

  Hopefully Marrock wouldn’t notice her fingers trembling against his skin. Or at least she could hope that he’d keep his mouth shut if he did.

  It felt like Tessa was drowning, pulling water into her lungs rather than fighting. It felt like she was walking the wrong path. She heaved a sigh, as quietly as she could.

  Please, please, let Dad know what he’s doing.

  Chapter 4

  Liam Marrock walked back to his bike, his ears still ringing with the sobs and raised voices. The wake hadn’t been quiet; Samus had left behind many unanswered questions, and a lot of enraged relatives.

  Liam had never known the man, except by reputation. He had to admit; he was in agreement with his prospective mate. Tessa had made it clear that he didn’t belong there, and he quite agreed. Samus’s mate had glared at him with suspicion. Her partner being found dead, even as he was here on a diplomatic mission...it looked suspect. Tessa and the rest of the Kumori would be idiots if they didn’t at least consider the possibility that he’d sent a shot across the bow while he had the opportunity.

  Tessa walked alongside him in silence, her strong yet delicate features set with irritation and concealed apprehension. She was trying hard to look as though she felt nothing, but he could see all of the emotions under her skin: the soft quiver of her lips, the way her eyes narrowed when she looked at him...all of it.

  She was beautiful. A scar peeked above her neckline, furrows of flesh where someone had once clawed into her. It had healed cleanly, left only a series of lines on her tanned skin. She wasn’t afraid to fight; her reputation made that much plain. She was her father’s lead enforcer for a long time before she rose to the alpha female rank. He admired her for that strength; he wasn’t sure that he’d be anywhere near as gracious to serve under another alpha.

  He would have to watch her, once they got home. There was a very real likelihood that her loyalty to the treaty would always be secondary to her loyalty to her pack. And if the Kumori decided to throw their lot in with the Malvati, then she would be in a prime position of gathering intelligence for his wayward half-brother.

  He surveyed her more closely, looking in her emerald eyes for any sign of deviousness or manipulation. But for the moment, she was wrapped in her own thoughts and didn’t notice his stare.

  Liam still couldn’t believe she’d agreed to it. It was probably the right thing to do, and he appreciated that she could see that...but he was still somewhat disgusted at the idea of sharing a bed with a woman who’d lay next to him out of pragmatism while wishing to tear his balls off.

  He doubted his home life would be quiet now that he was bringing Tessa into it. Perhaps he could build a door into the hall with the spare bedroom to seal her off from the rest of the house. Perhaps she’d like the additional privacy, the idea that that space was solely hers. If she behaved—if he truly wanted to please her that much when they’d spent more than a few minutes alone together—he might ask.

  Liam slung his leg over the side of his motorcycle. “I’ll send someone to bring the rest of your clothes and such later. Hop on.”

  He offered her the backpack he’d been carrying. It contained enough clothes to get her through a few days in her new home. She’d glared at him when he took the strap from her earlier and hefted it himself, and at the time, he’d ignored her. But for the ride, it would need to be on her back so she could ride behind him.

  Tessa stared at him as though he were a cow patty she’d stepped in. She seized the backpack and slung it on, settling the straps. Her eyes traced over him up and down, lingering on his pecs, his biceps, his strong thighs. Lord help him, she looked at him like she might sink her teeth into him. And even the idea of it made him want to sink his into her, feel the give of the soft skin on her neck, watch her flesh bloom rosy red with the marks of his ownership. His palm twitched, at the idea of holding her deceptively strong body against him as he ravaged her with tooth, nail, and cock.

  Yes, he’d have to be very careful around Tessa Lacroix. She was beautiful…and deadly. He didn’t dare let this alliance become a risk to his pack’s safety, and so long as his eyes were on her breasts’ gentle curves, the slope of her hips, she’d have entirely too much power to manipulate him.

  She shook her head, a bemused twist to her lips, and climbed up behind him. Her feet found their rests, and she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her torso against his spine. Every breath she took pushed those shapely breasts against him. Hopefully she wasn’t paying close enough attention to notice that his heart was racing or that half his blood was escaping his brain to make his cock swell.

  Her hands were clenched tight—too tight. And they were still covered in dried gore. However cool she tried to play it, she was nervous. He put his hand over hers.

  “Hold tight,” he said, and removed his hand.

  She nodded, her cheek dragging between his shoulder blades. She shifted slightly, pushing those supple breasts against him a little harder, and he forced his mind away from his hardening cock.

  Rather than savor the moment and risk bringing her awareness to the effect she had on him, he sent the bike screaming into the road. The wind carried Tessa's fragrance away from him. As much as he missed it, it was a blessing. He wouldn’t have to inhale her spice and musk...and the sweet, soft note of her arousal. He wouldn’t have to fight to keep his eyes on the road, and his mind off her body. Everything seemed calmer with the wind in his hair. A nice long ride would be exactly what he needed to shove his anxiety to the side.

  At least, so long as he didn’t get distracted by Tessa’s body pressed against his.

  Once or twice on the trip, Liam tried to talk to Tessa. Each time, she pretended not to hear him and they lapsed into silence. It didn’t bother him, though it did agitate the part of him that felt it was a sign of disrespect, not of her own nervousness. Why had she agreed? He’d watched her internal war play out across her face; he might not know the exact reasons, but he’d seen the path her thoughts had taken. And in the end, she’d agreed. Why?

  Just to be on the safe side, Liam had pushed Alder to leave a day before they would take each other as mates. Just in case she wanted to back out. He knew from the set of her jaw that she was stubborn, and that she wouldn’t, but one could never be too sure.

  “So, tomorrow…” he began one last time. Tessa’s sigh hung heavy against his back, caught in his shirt’s fabric. Yet again, she didn’t answer.

  Fine. He didn’t have to be civil, then. He turned onto the trail that led back to the Nefari terrain. They were almost home. She could ignore him from another room, for all he cared.

  He could hardly focus on the road; her soft body pressed against his hadn’t gotten any easier to tolerate. Far from it. It had only gotten worse, as he’d grown to memorize every detail of her form where it met his. The firmness of her breasts, the curve of her hips, the way her knees pushed against his thighs.

  Even the way when she thought he wasn’t paying attention, she turned her face toward him and took a deep breath of his scent, her breath warming him through his clothes. Halfway to a nuzzle. Once or twice, he’d even caught her stifling a moan. He had no doubt that if he stopped the bike at the side of the road and dismounted to face her, her cheeks would be flushed with arousal and her lips would be swollen from biting them in an effort to restrain herself. And she must have just hated that. Probably as much as he did.

  This was a marriage of convenience. Nothing more. That she obviously liked his body meant nothing. Meant no more than that he liked hers, too. He liked hers very, very much. His inner wolf stirred, wanting to bend her over the bike seat and take her hard. She was his. Whyever the promise had been given was irrelevant. Sh
e was his. It would soon be within his rights…

  He grimaced, forcing his attention back to the road.

  In no time at all, he’d reached the gravel clearing where his pack left their bikes. They’d take the rest of the trip on foot. He thumped her thigh to tell her to dismount first.

  Her hands found his shoulders, and she braced her weight on him as she detangled herself from him and the machine. He rose a second later, his hands going to her shoulders to sweep the backpack’s straps down.

  She stared at him like a fly caught in a web, his palms against her arms, and the backpack’s weight falling away from her body. She was half in his arms, and he couldn’t think beyond the urge to bring her the rest of the way there. Wrap his arms around her and—

  He swept the backpack the rest of the way off her arms roughly. They hadn’t done the ceremony yet, so even on paper he couldn’t justify touching her. Marrock shoved the backpack up onto his shoulder and turned away before he gave in to the temptation to answer the question in her emerald eyes.

  She followed on his heels, her eyes wide and taking in everyone who nodded or waved. They hadn’t expected him back so soon; he hadn’t, either. He’d expected to stay longer persuading her that her father’s plan was best for both their packs. Either she was smarter than he’d thought, or she was much less stubborn. He supposed he’d find out soon enough, now that he’d be living with the woman.

  Along the path, one of the lesser packmates came up talking entirely too fast.

  “Slow down,” he ordered, stopping on his path. “Start again.”

  “Mara is pissed. Like really, really pissed. She heard about the alliance and—”

  Tessa brushed past him, stepping so close to Liam’s packmate that he stopped short. “Tell the bitch I’m just as upset as she is, and not to worry her precious little head about it.”

  The anger that surged through Liam in that moment nearly had him ready to punish her here and now. That she thought she could talk out of turn, to so publicly display her distaste for this arrangement—it was a slap in his face. That side of her would need to be brought to heel.

  He clenched his teeth, knowing that until the ceremony was over, he would need to show at least some restraint.

  “Excuse us,” he said to the kid. “Tessa forgot her manners. And tell Mara to watch her mouth.”

  With that, he yanked Tessa away and pushed her forward. She was smirking, which angered him more, but now was not the time to fret over her games. If anything, perhaps he ought to let Mara and Tessa see things through themselves. But that could come at another time. For now, he just wanted to get home.

  As they walked up to the little ranch house, his grip on Tessa’s arm loosened. In part because he no longer needed to make his display of anger visible to his packmates, and in part because coming home always eased him.

  He hadn't touched much in the one-story home home from when his mother decorated it. It was familiar, and he liked it that way. And everyone around here knew better than to fuck with his stuff, so there was no need to lock the door.

  He opened it and gestured for Tessa to step inside first. She glared at him, her eyes hard. Did she expect him to sweep her off her feet and carry her over the threshold? If so, she’d be sorely disappointed. He placed a palm on her back and all but shoved her inside. He didn’t have time for this bullshit. Not with news to catch up on and an alliance to plan.

  He followed her inside, but stopped short. She’d planted herself just inside the doorway, and refused to move. Her elegantly arched eyebrows were lowered in a surprisingly fearsome glare. He chose to ignore it, instead twisting around her and proceeding as though she was following obediently.

  “Master bedroom’s there—the second door. Closest one’s the bathroom. Spare bedroom is the farthest door at the end of the hall. That’s where you’ll be.”

  He threw her backpack inside the last door he’d pointed at. She still had that wary distaste on her face. He had too much to do to deal with this shit. If she was still angry later, he was sure he’d find out why then. She didn’t seem like the type of woman to keep it to herself.

  Still she hadn’t moved. Once again, he stepped around her and opened the door.

  “I’ll be back later,” he said.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her mouthing his own words sarcastically back at him. And then sticking her tongue out. His bestial self demanded he turn on his heel, walk back in there. Teach her who’s boss. Bend her over his knee until she knew he wasn’t someone she could disrespect or ignore.

  But he ignored his palm’s ache and the urge to spank her senseless. This was going to be a very long…shit...rest of his fucking life. Better to not add wood to that particular bonfire. She hated him enough as it was. And while he might be an authoritative leader and partner, he wasn’t a masochist. He wouldn’t give her more reasons to hate him than she already had. Not just yet.

  Chapter 5

  Tessa was alone in her new home—if she could call it that. Marrock’s cozy house raised more questions than it answered, with décor that bore remnants of a woman’s touch, and nothing that left her a clue what her wayward mate might be like.

  Any ordinary day around this time, she’d be making the rounds, checking in with packmates, verifying hunt schedules, dickering with the quartermaster over supplies. But those responsibilities were no longer hers. The free time, in a strange place…it rattled her. She didn’t even have any books, as she’d had to pack light. She’d packed as though it was for a hunt, with just enough clothes to get by.

  She dropped her bag on the floor of the bedroom that was to be hers. She hated every inch of it, from the floral paintings on the wall to the bedspread obviously quilted with love for someone other than her. It wasn’t a substitute for her own home, with potted plants on the windowsills and a blanket she’d made herself under one of her cousins’ tutelage. Somehow, she was supposed to set all her history, all her feelings aside. And being plastered into someone else’s white-picket nightmare was insult to injury.

  God, just look at that hideousness, she thought to herself, taking in a particularly awful painting on the wall, a grandiose naval landscape painted on black velvet. It was almost funny that such tackiness existed. She reached out to touch it, only to pull her hand back. She was still bloody. And she had a feeling that Marrock would have no patience for her wrecking his stuff. Shower first, and then exploration.

  The bathroom was marginally better than the bedroom, if only because there must have been more turnover to the decorations. There was nothing frilly or kitschy here, simply artistically tiled walls and a cup with a toothbrush in it. And the bathroom was actually decently spacious, even with a luxuriously sized bathtub. I can live with this, she thought, and scrubbed her hands. Her own bathtub had been utilitarian, hardly big enough for her to get both knees and breasts under the water when laying back.

  She plugged the tub and turned the water on. While she waited for it to fill, she scrubbed the blood off her hands and retrieved a clean set of clothes.

  It made no sense. Out of all the places she might expect Marrock to live, this was the last on the list. Did he actually like the garish wood-paneled walls, or were they merely familiar and not worth the effort to change? She’d put money on the latter. Maybe someone could tell her more of his family history, so she could guess whether the place was inherited, or whether the Nefari associated the home with the alpha rank and had forced it on him.

  She wished his home had said something about him. There weren’t family photos or anything that might give her a clue what he was actually like when he wasn’t in the pack’s war room. If she was going to live with the man, she deserved to know something of what she was getting into. But instead, he’d left her inside a blank slate.

  It made every fear, every anxiety, ten times worse. What if she’d been too hasty in agreeing to her role in the treaty? It had all seemed so urgent as she put Samus’s body out of her head, but facing down a new lif
e in this saccharine monstrosity brought all of the awful possibilities ahead of her home.

  Marrock was inscrutable. Perhaps his quiet intensity covered up a sweet and subtle charisma, or perhaps it covered up an authoritarian, or even cruel, streak. Certainly, he wasn’t known outside of his pack for being a teddy bear. As they lived together, would he warm to her, or would the gulf between them grow by magnitudes? She was an outsider here. She’s seen the terse looks that greeted her as he escorted her home. If even he wasn’t welcoming of her, who would be?

  She should have left with him, forced him to make introductions. She should know who would be conducting the mating ritual for them. He should have taken her to meet any surviving family members he had left, or at least bullied one of the women of the pack into feigning friendship. It was his fault she was alone with the terror, and the second-guesses.

  Or perhaps it had to do with her confrontation with the young shifter hammering on about Mara. Whoever Mara was. Tessa bristled just thinking of her—a flare of jealously, perhaps. But that didn’t make sense. Surely Tessa wasn’t jealous of a woman she hadn’t met over a guy that she didn’t want to be with but got tossed with anyway.

  Tessa’s steps carried her back into the bathroom. She turned the water off and shut the door. There was a hamper below the towel rack, and she set her worn clothes on top of it. The mirror was well on its way to steaming up, obscuring even the little bits of blood she’d wiped onto her face during the morning’s chaos. This morning seemed like an awful dream.

  The more Tessa thought about it, the more she realized how precarious her situation would be with Marrock. Whatever he said about the distance of their “arrangement”, out in public, she would be required to play the devoted mate. Forbidden from turning down his approaches or disagreeing with him. And she’d known enough men who would take advantage of that. Could she really chance that Marrock might become one when the newness and caution wore off? Could she really trust him to hold to his promises?