Craved by an Alpha

by Felicity Heaton

  They were going to release him.

  The blond unlocked the door of the cage and the dark-haired one reached in, grabbed Cavanaugh by his hair and pulled him out, shoving him down onto his knees on the snow in front of Stellan. They stood sentinel over him and he breathed slowly, calming himself. As much as he wanted to throw himself at Stellan and bite the bastard, he had to be patient.

  He couldn’t risk being knocked unconscious again. He was stronger now that he had acclimatised but he was still at a disadvantage with his hands bound behind his back. When the moment came, he would launch his attack. He just had to wait and then he would use the ace he had up his sleeve.

  Stellan had overlooked something critical and Cavanaugh was more than happy to exploit it in order to put the bastard down.

  Out of the corner of his right eye, Cavanaugh spotted August among the people gathered on that side of the square. The black skullcap he wore hid his wild red hair, but Cavanaugh would recognise his silver eyes anywhere. He stood at the back of the group, another male beside him. Instinct told Cavanaugh that his cousin would fight the moment he made his move, joining him in his battle against Stellan.

  Cavanaugh could only hope everyone else would follow his lead.

  He hoped that what he was about to do would inspire them to rise up against Stellan too.

  Stellan drew a short silver blade from a sheath at his waist.

  He took a step towards Cavanaugh.

  Cavanaugh unleashed every drop of the fury he had been storing up throughout the journey, every ounce of the rage he felt as he looked at his mate, seeing her beaten and on the verge of freezing to death. It poured through his muscles and veins like acid, seared his bones and set him on fire.

  He roared as he pulled his wrists apart, his shoulders and chest straining as he fought against the metal.

  The steel links between the two thick cuffs shattered and he fell forwards with the sudden release of his wrists, pressing his hands into the snow.

  Stellan’s green eyes shot wide and he unleashed his own roar as he recovered from the shock of seeing Cavanaugh break solid metal with only his natural strength.

  Cavanaugh grinned, revealing his fangs, and kicked off, launching himself at Stellan. Breaking the chain between the shackles had been the easy part, his ace that he had known would catch Stellan off guard, leaving him open to attack. The temperature was well below zero degrees centigrade, the cold significantly weakening the thin metal and making it brittle.

  What came next was the hard part.

  Stellan swung a wild blow with his sword and Cavanaugh skidded beneath it, sliding across the packed snow. He kicked out with his right leg as he reached the black-haired male, catching him in the back of his left knee and sending him crashing onto the ground. He slid past Stellan, stopping only when his bare feet hit the stone platform. He turned on his front and kicked off, propelling himself forwards, towards Stellan.

  The male raised his hand in a command. The three males who had remained on the platform leaped down off it just as Cavanaugh connected hard with Stellan’s back, slamming him face first onto the icy ground. The three males ran at Cavanaugh and he rolled, evading the blow he felt coming. The male barely managed to avoid striking Stellan and skidded on the snow, losing his footing.

  Before the other two could attempt to attack him, August and his comrade were there, taking them on.

  As soon as the others saw August fighting, the younger males among them broke out from the crowd and launched an attack on the brunet and blond males who were coming to aid Stellan.

  Cavanaugh looked across to check on Eloise and heat swept through him, burning away his fear, as he saw a group of young females leaping in to save her.

  Now he could give Stellan his undivided attention.

  The black-haired male was back on his feet, his green eyes darkening dangerously as he turned on Cavanaugh.

  Cavanaugh bared his fangs on a snarl and rushed towards him. Stellan had lost his only advantage. The blade. It lay near the cage in the churned up snow. If Cavanaugh could get his hands on it, he could end this fight before anyone was hurt. Stellan’s lackeys were the sort of men who would quickly surrender if they saw their leader fall.

  Stellan met him halfway, throwing a hard left hook. Cavanaugh dodged it but not the swift uppercut that followed. It connected with his jaw, snapping his head upwards, and he grunted as his skull ached from the force of the blow. He dropped his head back down and swung his right fist, following it with a low left blow. As predicted, Stellan shifted to his right to dodge Cavanaugh’s first punch, placing himself directly in the path of his second.

  Cavanaugh growled as he slammed his left fist up into Stellan’s kidney, lifting the male inches off the ground with the hard blow. Stellan grunted and Cavanaugh clasped his hands together and swung them upwards in a fast arc as Stellan stumbled backwards. The manacles around Cavanaugh’s wrists smashed into the side of Stellan’s head and the scent of blood filled the air as the male went down hard. The shackle around Cavanaugh’s right wrist fractured and he yanked it off as he backed away from Stellan, gaining some space.

  One more shackle and then he could shift. Right now, the tight metal was stopping him. If he shifted, he would injure his front leg, placing himself at a disadvantage.

  Stellan launched at him and Cavanaugh grunted as the male barrelled into him, his shoulder punching hard into his stomach and knocking the wind from him. He grappled with the male’s shoulders and brought his knee up, slamming it into Stellan’s chest. The male gasped but didn’t release him. Cavanaugh linked his hands again, raised them above his head as he skidded backwards with Stellan driving him, and brought them down in a swift arc, using every drop of strength available to him.

  His fists struck hard in the centre of Stellan’s back, driving the male downwards. Stellan lost his grip and Cavanaugh didn’t hesitate. He brought his knee up again, smashing it into Stellan’s face. The scent of blood grew stronger and Stellan shoved away from him, moving to a distance, his hand covering his face. Blood dripped from his chin and onto the white snow.

  Cavanaugh breathed hard. Something flashed in Stellan’s eyes.

  Cavanaugh’s own eyes widened as he sensed someone behind him and began to turn. The blond male was too fast, looping his arms under Cavanaugh’s from behind before he could shift away from him and bringing them over his shoulders. The male locked his hands behind Cavanaugh’s head and he snarled as he fought the blond’s hold on him.

  Stellan looked towards the blade.

  The blond chuckled.

  August tossed Cavanaugh a worried look as he fought the dark-haired male.

  His cousin didn’t need to worry.

  He had this.

  Cavanaugh roared as he tipped forwards, hurling the male over his head and sending him crashing into the snow. The second the male released him, he brought his right fist down hard, smashing it into his face. The blond grunted and blood spewed from his nose. Stellan growled and Cavanaugh sensed his approach.

  He turned swiftly and brought his leg up, blocking the kick Stellan had launched at him, their shins connecting hard and sending pain blazing up his bones. He growled, drew his leg back and kicked again, sending his foot flying at Stellan’s hip. It struck the dip of his waist and Cavanaugh grunted as he forced himself to follow through, sending Stellan flying across the square.

  Stellan struck the cage, knocking it back several feet, and fell onto the snow where it had been.

  Right next to the sword.

  Not exactly what Cavanaugh had planned.

  He kicked off, his gaze locked on the blade and his heart pounding. He had to reach it before Stellan regained his senses and realised how close to victory he was.

  Cavanaugh’s bare foot slipped on the icy ground and he slammed face-first into it, grunting as his lungs took the brunt of the impact.

  Stellan was on his feet by the time Cavanaugh recovered, skidding around as he tried to stand, and had the blad
e in his hand before Cavanaugh could reach him. The black-haired male turned on him with a vicious smile and Cavanaugh backed off, scanning the fight for something he could use as a weapon.

  He needed something, or he needed a way of distracting Stellan long enough that he could reach him and get the weapon off him.

  August roared.

  Cavanaugh’s gaze swung towards where he had last seen him, spotting him just as he shifted, becoming a huge snow leopard. August growled and sprang, leaping high in the air and sailing towards Stellan.

  Stellan turned towards him.

  Cavanaugh cursed August for making such a reckless move and raced towards Stellan, his heart thundering as he tried to close the distance between them before Stellan could cut his cousin down.

  Stellan swung the blade, cutting through the air with it, directly where August’s chest would be any second now. Cavanaugh roared as he hurled himself at Stellan. Not quick enough. He slammed into Stellan, knocking him down, but not before the tip of the blade sliced across August’s right shoulder.

  Cavanaugh landed hard on top of Stellan. The blade skidded away from both of them, towards the pole where Eloise had been tied up. August crashed to the ground, whimpering as he transformed back, the pain of his injury forcing him to shift.

  The male August had been with was beside him in an instant, covering him as he fought both the blond and another male from Stellan’s side.

  Cavanaugh needed to help him.

  He grabbed Stellan’s head and slammed it hard against the frozen ground, hoping it was enough to keep him down for a few seconds while he checked on his cousin.

  He shoved off Stellan and raced through the fray to August, ducking beneath blows as Stellan’s men tried to stop him. When he reached August, he kneeled and checked him over. The cut across his shoulder was deep, but not life threatening. He breathed a sigh of relief when August opened his silver eyes, staring up at him.

  “Idiot,” Cavanaugh muttered and helped him onto his feet. He turned to his comrade, who was still fending off the two men, his broad back to Cavanaugh. “Get him to safety.”

  “No. I can still fight.”

  Cavanaugh hadn’t wanted to hear those words leaving August’s lips. He turned a frown on his cousin and the red-haired male didn’t back down. He had grown stronger in the time they had been apart, and Cavanaugh was glad to see it. August had grown into a powerful male, and the pride would need him now more than ever.

  “Fine. But if you get yourself killed, it’s your own damned fault.” Cavanaugh slapped a hand down on August’s good shoulder and then turned and formed an allied front with him, facing off against three of the males from Stellan’s group. The other two lay out cold on the snow.

  Three on three sounded good to him, but he had a date with another male.

  “Can you handle this?” he said to August and saw him nod out of the corner of his eye. “Be careful.”

  Cavanaugh didn’t wait for him to respond before throwing himself at the blond male directly in front of him. He ducked beneath the male’s first blow, leaped back to avoid the second, and sprang forwards to deliver one of his own, landing it hard on the male’s jaw and snapping his head to his right. The male lost his footing and almost fell. Cavanaugh dodged past him, leaving his cousin to deal with him, and went after Stellan.

  He spotted the black-haired bastard gunning for the sword again.

  Cavanaugh growled and brought his right fist down hard on the shackle that remained around his left wrist, striking it. It wouldn’t budge. He needed to get it off. He looked at the stone platform off to his right and grinned as he changed direction, heading towards it.

  The second he was within reach, he gritted his teeth against the pain that was coming and swung his wrist down onto the dark grey stone. The shackle shattered and he flinched away, closing his eyes as pieces of metal sprayed everywhere.

  Cavanaugh roared.

  Stellan stopped looking for the sword and swung to face him.

  The people between them got Cavanaugh’s message loud and clear too and moved out of the line of fire. Space formed between him and Stellan.

  Stellan’s green eyes flashed and he reached over his head, grasping the back of his black jumper.

  He wouldn’t be quick enough.

  Cavanaugh roared again as the transformation came over him, his limbs quick to shift beneath his skin as he kicked off, launching himself towards Stellan as the male tossed his jumper and fumbled with his shirt.

  Silver fur swept over Cavanaugh’s body. His tail sprouted from the base of his spine as he came free of his trousers and his face morphed, his ears shifting upwards and rounding, and his eyes growing larger. The world brightened. The smells grew clearer. The air tasted crisper.

  He opened his jaws as he completed his transformation and unleashed a longer roar as his paws pounded against the snow, their width and his claws giving him purchase on the slippery surface. He sprang at Stellan just as the male managed to get his top off. His green eyes shot wide and Cavanaugh snarled as his front paws struck the male’s chest, the force of his blow knocking him backwards. Stellan skidded on the ground and fell.

  Cavanaugh’s back paws struck Stellan’s legs and he landed on top of him on the snow. Before Stellan could even grunt from the impact, Cavanaugh struck. He angled his head, clamped his jaws down on the male’s throat, and growled as blood flooded his mouth.

  Stellan bellowed in agony and lifted his hand, silver glinting in it and catching Cavanaugh’s attention.

  The sword.

  It zoomed towards him, aimed directly for his neck.

  Cavanaugh hadn’t wanted to resort to such vile methods of dispatching his foe, but Stellan gave him no choice.

  He clamped down harder with his jaws and pulled his head back, ripping Stellan’s throat out.

  The blade slowed as Stellan gurgled, blood pumping from the vicious wound and spilling across the white snow, spreading outwards from beneath him.

  Cavanaugh snarled as Stellan’s arm dropped and the silver sword grazed him, slicing down his left shoulder. He spat out the contents of his mouth onto Stellan’s still chest and backed off, huffing as he breathed hard. The smell of his own blood joined that of his enemy.

  The world around him stilled, falling silent as all eyes swung his way.

  He closed his eyes and focused, shifting back into his human form. Blood spilled from the wound on his shoulder as his bones snapped back into place and his fur swept down his body, revealing pink skin. He grunted and pressed a hand over the long gash, stemming the flow of blood down his chest, and kneeled in the snow, breathing hard.

  Someone placed a blanket around his shoulders.

  Others drew closer, staring at Stellan where he lay with his green gaze fixed sightlessly on the sky, surrounded by a stark red pool of blood.

  Cavanaugh looked away from him, seeking the only person he needed to see right now, the one who had given him the strength to fight.

  His eyes drifted over all the people and then beyond them, down the alleys between the buildings. He spotted what he needed to see there, two females carrying her up the set of wooden steps of her small two-storey home near the back of the village.

  “Cavanaugh?” August crouched beside him and he spared his cousin a glance before rising onto his feet, wrapping the blanket around him and holding it with one hand, still clutching his shoulder with the other.

  He drifted through the village, unaware of everyone as they tried to speak with him and his cousin as he tried to get his attention. The chatter of his kin fell away as his focus narrowed to one person.

  When he reached her small home, the two females were leaving. They bowed their heads but he paid them no heed. He mounted the wooden steps and entered her home, following his senses through the cramped open living area to the stairs to the upper floor against the back wall. He slowly ascended them and looked across to his right as the next floor and the only other room in the house came into view. She lay sw
athed in colourful quilts on her small bed that stood directly in front of the bend at the top of the stairs, against the left wall of the room.

  He reached the top of the stairs and glanced at the window to the right of the bed, looking out of it at the other buildings and the view back to the square. His kin and his village, all of it meant nothing to him right now. They could take care of themselves, because he needed to be here, taking care of Eloise.

  He would take care of the female he loved.

  He kneeled beside the head of the bed near the window, his back to the fireplace as he faced her, and released his blanket, letting it fall away from his body as he devoted all of his focus to her. He stroked her tangled wet hair from her cold brow.

  His beautiful female.

  She was the only one in the world for him, and she would become his mate.

  He swallowed in an attempt to settle his nerves as they rose again, a reminder that so much had happened in the ten years they had been forced apart from each other, and much of what had happened had been his fault.

  All he could do now was nurse her back to health and then speak from his heart, confessing everything, and hope that she would listen.

  All he could do was hope that when all was said and done, she would put him out of his misery.

  She would consent to being his mate.

  He had defeated Stellan and set his pride free, but deep in his heart he knew his biggest fight was yet to come.

  If he could win this one, he could win the forever he wanted with her.

  Chapter 14

  Eloise woke to the distant sound of merriment. It drifted through the walls of her home. A celebration. Her heart didn’t lift at that thought. It dropped into her stomach and she had to fight to pull it back up from the pit of despair.

  She slowly opened her eyes and frowned at her room. A fire burned in the grate off to her left, spreading warmth over her, and she stared at it as she gathered her strength. She touched the bandages around her wrists beneath the thick layers of covers. Someone had taken care of her. Her memory was patchy. She recalled being stripped and bound. She remembered seeing Cavanaugh in a cage and him calling her name. She knew he had fought.