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

by K. de Long

  He stomped the impulse out, hard. They didn’t have that kind of partnership. She wouldn’t have agreed to her role in the alliance if he hadn’t promised her she could find fulfillment elsewhere. But he’d damn sure hoped it would be years down the line—or at least months. Sometime after the public scrutiny had eased.

  He couldn’t blame Tessa for this. Couldn’t blame her for taking him at his word, seeking out friendships—even male friendships—in the wild. But so soon? So publicly? When malcontents were already making snide comments about whether he could handle his Kumori bride?

  He damn sure had to do something about. He had to direct all of his anger at the one part of it he was entitled to be angry about: his pack would see it as a sign of weakness, him allowing his mate to stray, turning a blind eye to it. If she was flirting somewhere as public as the quartermaster’s, Mara wouldn’t be the only one in a position to notice and comment.

  No. It had nothing to do with him and Tessa, and it had even less to do with Mara. It had to do with his pack’s respect for him and the perception of unity with his mate. Knox had positioned himself between them publicly, and Liam had to make an example of him.

  It had nothing to do with betrayal, or love, or jealousy. It had to do with his ability to lead and his reputation. Mara had pointed out a threat. One she might have created, but a threat nonetheless.

  He couldn’t let that stand.

  Tessa had tucked the herbs into her pocket, and finished saying her goodbyes to Knox when she noticed whispers toward the back of the line. The crowd parted, and a second later, she found out why, when Marrock’s eyes found hers.

  She’d seen him mad, but not like this. She’d seen him angry, but never with this edge. Before a hello had left her lips, his fist was in Knox’s face. His body was rippling; he had just enough absinthe left in his system from their hunt earlier that he was subconsciously trying to transform, from sheer fury.

  Shit. How the fuck had he known where to find her? And why was he so angry? Surely not over some stupid, harmless conversation.

  And yet his growl said he’d beat the man to death for the simple crime of talking to her. She seized his arm, forcing him to face her.

  “What. The. Fuck,” she yelled. If he did this every time someone talked to her, her life here would be even more miserable. She couldn't ground herself in the periods of calm; she’d go insane if she had to limit her life to her tumultuous relationship with Marrock.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Knox slinking away. Doing the smart thing. But she was past that point.

  “Fucking hell, Marrock. Are you a man, or a stupid beast? What the fuck’s your problem?”

  “Let’s go, Tessa,” he said, glancing at the bystanders watching. Maybe he was in the right, and this fight should happen behind closed doors, but Tessa was absolutely done with him bossing her around.

  “I’m not going back until I’m ready.” She tipped her chin up, daring him to object. “The world outside your house exists, you know. And sometimes, I like being out in it. We were talking.”

  His gaze turned pleading: Do we have to do this here? But she wasn’t about to give in. She’d had it up to here with catering to Marrock’s whims.

  “Ordinary people talk, Marrock. It’s what separates us from the animals. You’re an asshole, but you aren’t that asshole. You aren’t gonna tell me who I can or can’t talk to, when I can or can’t leave the house. Jesus fucking Christ, what’s wrong with you?”

  She hated the break in her voice, and feeling the weight of so many eyes on her, hated that, too. Maybe it was partially for her benefit to let him take her home, argue it out in privacy. Challenging him publicly put him a bad situation, which was not good for her, or anyone else. She’d probably end up on farming duty for a month, deprived of her hikes and hunts. But she had no interest in being alone with Marrock. Not when he was being such a jealous prick.

  “You don’t fucking own me, Marrock. Get it through your head. You may have bought me, fair and square, but you will never fucking own me.”

  Marrock’s face fell. She’d hurt him. And maybe later she’d even apologize for pouring fuel onto the fire. But this storm had been brewing for as long as she’d known him. And there was too much force behind it for it to blow over easily, now.

  She wanted to slap him. Wanted to turn her wolf loose, draw blood. She’d taken too much bullshit from him. If she didn’t drag herself away now, she’d do something that might endanger their alliance.

  Tessa released his arm, and spun on her heel, storming back toward the house. She was too tired to go for another walkabout, but at least if he shoved his way into her bedroom again, she wouldn’t be held responsible for whatever might happen next.

  Liam swore to himself. Tessa’s yelling had attracted even more of a crowd, people coming from the nearby houses and field to investigate. He was mortified, but more than that, he was angry. He knew he should have sympathy for her, but he’d seen how Knox looked at her. How he’d leaned close to hug her goodbye. It was an affront to his authority, both that the guy did it, and that she didn’t chastise him for it.

  And just remembering how bright her smile had been for him…Liam hated to admit that some part of him was jealous of that, jealous that he’d never seen her face light up with that kind of carefree energy. Even during their hunt, her grim joy had been filtered through the focus of the hunt. He’d never known that when she smiled wide, the corner of her mouth tucked into a charming little dimple. Never known how even and white her teeth were when her lips weren’t bared in a snarl.

  Liam would have hoped that their commitment to each other meant something. It felt like it when they kissed, when their eyes met. His insides ached as though Tessa had simply punched him in the stomach. He wished she actually had, so long as she’d kept her mouth shut while she did. You may have bought me, but you’ll never own me. Was that what she thought of him?

  Worse yet, he hated the awareness that this whole fight was orchestrated. He hated seeing the light in Mara’s eyes over Tessa’s shoulder. Hated seeing that calculating look playing across Mara’s attractive features, knowing he’d done just what she’d bet he would. He’d promised he’d never be her pawn again, but she knew him too well—better than he knew himself. And she might have cost him the trust of the one person who was supposed to be his most staunch ally in all this: his pledged mate.

  It was too late to stop the harm now. The least he could do was make sure the lesson stuck, stop it from happening again. Knox hadn’t gone far. He caught up with him easily and threw him to the ground.

  “You don’t. Fuck with. Another. Man’s. Mate,” he yelled, punctuating the words with punches.

  His knuckles ached from the force of the blows, but he welcomed the pain. Anything was better than the shitstorm he knew he would face when he got home, the actions he would be forced to take.

  He just couldn’t win.

  Or, he couldn’t win anywhere except here, pounding Knox into the gravel.

  Long after the lesson had been taught, he landed satisfying punch after punch into Knox’s body. It was likely to be the best thing about his night. At least after this, anyone else who’d let Mara talk them into interfering with Tessa would be well-warned. And there was no way Knox was unaware of what he was doing. He’d never seen the man embrace another man’s mate—it wasn’t simply a polite courtesy, the way that some of that stuff was. The man intentionally did it to fire shots across the bow. The Kumori, they were…more touchy feely…than some of the other packs he’d encountered. It wouldn’t have necessarily registered to Tessa as inappropriate. She had followed his lead. Truly he and Mara were where the blame belonged.

  Quentin finally pried him off Knox. The crowd knew better than to say a word. He sent one last glare around at the lot of them, then backed away, his fists clenched.

  The damage was done. Nothing for it but to go home. He would deal with Tessa when he got there. Maybe this time she’d actually listen and steer
clear of others’ machinations.

  He could understand falling into Mara’s trap once, but again so soon? And it was one thing that she didn’t respect him enough to trust what he’d told her about Mara, but she’d done worse than that. She’s yelled at him in front of the pack. That was not Mara’s fault—that one was all on Tess.

  Only when he got home, Tessa wasn’t there. The whole place was empty, though her smell was there…and fresh. She was hiding from him.

  His wolf growled. Fine. Fuck her. Let her hide. She should be hiding after what she did.

  She knew she was hiding from Marrock, and hiding felt too much like cowering. Like letting him win. That sucked. Royally. She hadn’t done anything wrong—well, at least not until he had done something wrong first. It’s not like Knox had laid a finger on her. Just that half-hug goodbye. It was her fault for believing Marrock’s promises. He’d said their partnership wouldn’t be sexual. Then he’d kissed her, and flirted, and obviously he thought he owned her now. I licked it, it’s mine. Fuck only knows what his reaction might have been had they actually made love. He probably would have killed the poor man.

  The whole thing made her wish she had acted out. That she’d grabbed Knox and kissed him, or something. Just so Marrock would at least have a reason to act like she was some maliciously flighty Jezebel. Who the fuck was he to shame her for talking to people, or for liking the way men looked at her? Of course, Knox’s stare was no match for Marrock’s, but it was flattering enough. Made her feel she possessed something of value, even if that was simply her off-limits cunt.

  She felt like some spiritual part of her was starving, torn between isolation and dependence. She wanted to hate how Marrock looked at her. She wanted to hate how he kissed her. They both knew what they were to each other. Neither of them had any intention of changing that. There was no way she could ever fall in love with Marrock, even if he did pull his head out of his ass long enough to develop feelings for her.

  Even if he did kiss her as though the world outside of their home had ceased to exist.

  Even if he did look at her as though the world’s secrets were written on her body in mysterious code.

  The only thing she could hope was that when the newness faded, he’d be content to ignore her, rather than losing even the veneer of allowing her a choice in their relationship. She hated this stupid house, with its motherfucking stupid decorations. Even knowing what they represented to Marrock just made her hate them more.

  This wasn’t where she belonged; it was where she was trapped.

  Her wolf bayed for release. Life would be so much simpler if she could just roam the hills, give up her humanity entirely. Humans were assholes. Jealous, controlling, petty assholes. Wolves made sense.

  Finally, she fled into the night. She couldn’t justify stealing the absinthe to transform, but she could at least go for a hike. At least without the smell and sight of people, she could try to ground herself. She’d need all the help she could get to cope with Marrock.

  Marrock.

  How would she face him? She was tired of the fucking whiplash. Tired of him acting tenderly, acting like he cared about their forced relationship, and then turning around and humiliating her. Isolating her. Telling her that no task was too great or small for her to mess it up.

  What had fucked him up that way? Was it just that no one had ever told him “no?”

  And to think he’d called her a spoiled brat.

  She shivered. She’d grown up around intrigue; she’d never expected that she could be so out of her depth. Was this how he felt, all the time? Was the Nefari pack that much bigger than hers, to be so alien?

  The ground crunched nearby, but she refused to look. The breeze carried Marrock’s scent to her on the wind, and she didn’t want to so much as look at him.

  “Come on back, pet,” he said, his voice low and husky. She stiffened at the nickname. Hadn’t he caught on that she hated it?

  She bit her lip rather than responding.

  “Come home, Tess,” he tried again. His smoky voice sent a wave of heat barreling through her to settle between her thighs.

  Since he obviously wasn’t going to let her get by without a conversation or a fight, she jumped in, guns blazing. “Because you don’t want the bad press of me staying out all night, after you chased me away from another man.”

  He sighed and crouched down beside her. “I could have handled it better,” he said, “but don’t play the victim here. You could have handled it better, too.”

  “But—”

  “No buts,” he said firmly. “What you did back there causes further rifts in the pack. More doubts, more fear. If you were anyone else, I would have punished you on the spot, and you know that.”

  “But what? I’m too weak to be treated like a true pack equal?”

  “Damn it, that’s not what I’m saying. I just know this has been hard on you, and me over-reacting didn’t help. And now I’ve risked the respect of my pack by letting you tear into me like that with no consequences. So don’t make me out to be the bad guy.”

  “You started it.”

  Marrock chuckled, and his tone softened. “What are we, in cub training?” When she didn’t respond, he added, “We’re going to have to make the boundaries clearer. For both of us. But not tonight, Tess. Let’s just get you home.”

  “I’m not going back there with you,” she ground out.

  “Then I’ll stay out.”

  She shook her head. That made her seem like the villain. Chasing a man out of his own home, so soon after they took their vows...and if he was right and the Nefari were looking for any signs of her emasculating him, that'd be a big one. Worse, even than her outburst. No. If she went home with Marrock, she’d be trapped. Well and truly, trapped with the big, bad wolf. She was caught between a rock and a hard place.

  But that he was willing to let his rep take that hit meant something. It told her that he was stronger than that; that while the talk might be another problem he didn’t need, he didn't seriously fear losing his rank or standing because of her. It told her he wasn’t simply making the offer, only to go back on it later.

  He put out his hand to her again. She bit her lip as she accepted his help getting to her feet. “It’s not safe, Tessa,” he said. “If the Malvati raided—”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “But you shouldn’t have to. And I don’t want your parents on my doorstep telling me off for letting their daughter come to harm.”

  Tessa’s inner wolf growled. He had no idea. Did he realize that she was far more wary of him than she was of any potential raiding party?

  Chapter 16

  Marrock was as good as his word. He escorted her home, then left. She ate cold, spiceless soup, and stared at the bones of the life she didn’t belong in. She didn’t sleep well, surrounded by his smell.

  She hadn’t had a letter from her family yet. That was a good thing. If she were any more homesick, if she could look at her mother’s handwriting, she’d find herself debating which was worth more: her word, or her life.

  This was unsustainable. She and Marrock were tearing each other apart, though their union hadn’t lasted a month. If she were a lesser woman, she’d have simply run away. Walked and walked, until she hit the Kumori’s heights. Inhaled the thin mountain air, and been free.

  But if she did that, the alliance failed. Her parents, Liam’s pack, all would be subjugated or murdered. Could she really be this masochistic, embracing the pain of her half-life? Accepting it as a lesser evil, rather than an evil to be fought?

  She dreamed of what might have been, had she told Marrock to piss off. Some nebulous happily ever after, in which she was simply permitted to lead and hunt, in which her worth wasn’t determined by her ability to play nice with a bossy and protective man-child. It was disconnected from reality, sure, but she needed somewhere safe to retreat in her head. Maybe things would get better once her parents had sent some of her stuff down, but maybe things would st
ay the same.

  Even Marrock’s mouth on hers hadn’t made the finality of their mating as real to her as his casual commands. That even now, he dared call her pet showed his lack of respect for her. He would never know or respect her.

  No matter how he looked at her. No matter whether he wore an apology in his eyes when he left her alone in the wreckage that might have been her home. No matter that when he kissed her, her wolf howled in triumph and her heart beat double-time. No matter how magnetically she was drawn to him, to the scars and stories etched into his skin.

  Tessa cried loudly, filling the house with her voice. It would be the only mark she left on it. The longer she was here, the more and more she’d be eroded, until her voice was just an echo, and neither she nor Marrock could even remember what it had sounded like. She knew that she should enjoy her sobs’ resonance while it lasted; undoubtedly, she’d cry much more, struggling to hide it behind the noises of running water or stifle it in a pillow that smelled like him.

  The next morning, Marrock came back just long enough to change out of his windblown clothes and into clean ones. He avoided her eye. She wasn’t sure whether to take it as an expression of guilt or simply I can’t do this right now avoidance.

  That evening wasn’t any better. He opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it again and went right to the master bedroom.

  The more she stayed in the house, the more difficult it was to consider leaving. If she left, people would stare at her. There might be questions. She might run into Mara or Knox, and if she did, she didn’t know that she could keep the blame off her face. It wasn’t their fault Marrock had reacted so badly, but she couldn’t fully absolve them of responsibility, either.

  It was easier to stay here. Stay hidden. Where the only one who could hurt her was Marrock. Exactly as he wanted it.

  Fuck.

  She’d almost steeled herself to leave, for the first time in days, when Marrock came through the door again, only a few hours after his departure. She couldn’t see him at first—only his broad shoulders and muscled back. But then he turned, and she saw he was carrying a box. He set it on the table in the front room, and left again. Two more boxes followed.