The Alpha's Pride

by Deidre Huesmann

  The woman shook her head, bewildered.

  “Your smell.” He allowed his nose to dip down, aching with the desire to burrow into the strong muscle between her neck and shoulder. Heat, strength, sensual aromas, she exuded it all. For a human, this woman was delectable. “I’ve never been affected by a woman’s smell so much. Especially a human one.”

  He drew back in time to see her eyes widen. Not quite in fear, like it might have been for any other woman. There was something different about this one, something that promised she knew of hardship. He already knew she could survive in the wilderness, at least for a time.

  I could teach her more. More of what it meant to be one of his shifters, more of the hunt. She was already strong, intelligent, and skilled. No human had ever won the game on his terms. She was the first. If nothing else, the way her blood called to him like a soulful siren’s song was proof enough.

  His people would not be happy, but fuck them. He was their alpha. Riker would claim his blood bonded no matter her heritage. In spite of her heritage, even.

  He could be the first shapeshifter to blood bond with a human. He could already see the argument for change. Were more humans like this one, they held far more promise than the world of shifters had ever assumed.

  And if humans were encouraged to be more like this one, stronger and less self-conscious of pithy appearances, the two societies could merge and become the largest force ever to be reckoned with. That, almost as much as how irresistible this woman was, damn near made up his mind for him.

  She drew a breath, so deep that as close as they were, her nipples grazed his chest for a fraction of a moment. “I’m not a casual fucktoy.”

  Riker was so lost in her heady scent that he’d drawn close enough to bite that shoulder muscle. He barely stopped himself. “Blood bonded is forever.”

  Truthfully, he’d never heard of a shifter blood bonding with a human, so he couldn’t attest to that with full confidence. But to Riker, it made no difference. Her blood called to him, enticing, promising. It made the thought of eating her flesh seem more ludicrous—even horrifying.

  If the woman thought so, her expression didn’t show it. “Why should I believe you?”

  That was a good question from her perspective. Why should she believe him? While their species weren’t at war, the dislike and lack of trust coursed so deep that it was as interwoven in blood as the bond he sensed sizzling between them.

  It probably didn’t help that shifters were liable to eat her kind. No, he’d have to convince her another way, even as he was convincing himself that change was to be had.

  In that moment, he realized how monumental the overhaul in how his people thought would be made. Val was human, could never be a shifter—it didn’t work that way. Shifters were born, not made. Just as humans were born, not made.

  He and his people would have to entirely rethink how they saw humans. Perhaps even refrain from hunting them. Even now he almost winced at the thought. The tradition was so ingrained that this would be nothing less than an uphill battle.

  It would be easier to turn her away. Make her leave forever. Go back to your normal ways.

  She took a deep breath again, more steadying than afraid, and Riker knew that wasn’t a possibility. Not with the potential blood bond, not knowing he’d never felt such a strong pull toward another person, shifter or otherwise, in his life.

  It was selfish on his part, but perhaps change between the species was long overdue. Who else to take the first step, if not him? Riker was one of the most powerful and well-respected alphas of all the shifter communities. If any one man could do it, he could.

  Turning Val away would have been easy. It also would have made him a coward.

  I am no coward.

  He smirked. “Why don’t you meet my family and determine that for yourself?”

  She blinked. Her thoughts were practically visible as they churned in her head, projecting out of those steely eyes.

  After a long moment, she said, “Val.”

  He tilted his head.

  “My name is Val.”

  Excitement coiled up his spine. Val. A strong name, one full of conviction and determination. One suited for the woman who had leaped from a tree and bashed him in the head with a branch.

  “You’ll call me Riker.” He eased away from her, though his body protested the movement. His cock was particularly indignant, so swollen and raging to bury into her that it took almost every ounce of self-control Riker possessed to reign in the urge.

  He wasn’t alpha for nothing. A lesser shifter would have acted without thought to the consequences.

  He nodded west, deeper into Muir Forest. Beyond this area, even further than where any human camped, lay his summer den. His people would be waiting there, and he had only a half hour’s walk to formulate an explanation for them. They would accept it or be kicked out, but Riker had no desire to lose anyone if possible.

  Least of all his potential blood bonded.

  Val picked herself up, shaking the soil and grass from her violet hair. As she dusted herself off, she said, “One thing before I go with you.”

  Riker raised an eyebrow.

  “Call me ‘woman’ again, and I’ll rip out your spine in your sleep.”

  A feral grin overtook his lips. I’d love to see you try.

  Aloud, he only said, “Very well.”

  Chapter Three

  Val retrieved the bashing branch before trekking after Riker. If she was walking into the proverbial lion’s den, she sure as shit wasn’t going in defenseless.

  You’re an idiot. You’re going to die. This asshole’s going to let his shifters tear you to pieces.

  Why was she following him? Had the brief yet terrifying hunt made her lose all sense of survival? The guy hadn’t even been fazed by a hit to the head. With a freaking yew branch, one of the toughest pieces of natural wood in the world.

  Val switched her hold on the branch and used it to knock forest debris out of her way. Riker kept an even pace in front of her. The setting sun turned his now-tousled hair into a flame of yellow and orange. Beneath his shirt, his shoulder blades shifted to show off the tight muscles under broad shoulders. Narrow waist, taut ass visible through his jeans, a jaw so strong she could probably crack diamonds on it. By human standards, he was a damned perfect specimen of muscle and thigh-clenching hotness.

  Was that why she followed him?

  “How long have you lived here, Val?”

  His voice startled her into looking from that ass to his face. He cast her a brief smirk over his shoulder, as though to say, I saw that.

  She refused to be embarrassed. “Since I was a child.”

  “I’ve never seen you in these woods before.”

  She snorted. “Yeah, well, I’ve had some alterations since I last visited.”

  He glanced back again. She knew that look, the one that swept over her dyed hair, the several piercings in her ears and face, on the three-quarters tattoo sleeve that swept up her left arm. Not just different—harsh. Not soft like a sensual woman, but hard lines. Unladylike. A fighter more than a lover. Probably a lesbian anyway. She’d heard all the comments before.

  “What?” she snapped.

  Riker shook his head, amusement playing on his features. “We’ll be there soon.”

  “Hooray.”

  “I’d tone down the snark if I were you.” He casually swatted a low-hanging branch aside, which came back down with such force that it would have taken off Val’s head if she’d been just a couple paces quicker. “This is already going to be a tough sell.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “What did you expect? A shifter king bringing home a potential human mate?” He scoffed. “Were I not their alpha, I’d have been more liable to tear out your throat before letting anyone know such a secret.”

  His cold arrogance should have infuriated her. To some degree, it did—but her body betrayed her. It was as though her legs wanted to buckle out and spread of their own
accord in a silent attempt to get him inside.

  Never slept with a shifter before, the lust-riddled part of her brain whispered. Imagine if he’s a literal tiger in the sack?

  God damn it, couldn’t she at least not make stupid puns when aroused? If she didn’t keep herself in check, the part of her screaming to rip off his clothes and bring his cock into her mouth was going to turn all common sense into a thin slice of Swiss cheese.

  Val grimaced as a long vine of blackberry bush snagged her leg, creating a fresh, thin slice below her knee. “Should I count myself lucky or stupid, then?”

  He shrugged. “I personally prefer the former. It’s more flattering.”

  Wonderful.

  As they walked, his words beat her brain like the hits of a well-timed boxer. Val narrowed her eyes at him. “Explain this blood bond thing.”

  There was the slightest hesitance in his step before Riker continued. “What about it?”

  “All of it.”

  He cast her an unreadable glance. “Do humans not study shifter biology?”

  She kept her expression as even as possible. “We do. Mostly in terms of self-defense or avoidance. Which is probably why I was able to kick your ass.”

  Riker snorted. “Don’t sell yourself short.” Before she could ask what he meant, he continued. “Every shifter has a potential blood bonded, and every shifter type recognizes them in different ways. My people have a sharp sense of smell, and that’s how we know.”

  That sounded all well and good, but Val wasn’t sure she completely bought it. “Then how can I be a potential blood bonded? I’m not a shifter,”

  He stopped and turned to her, one eyebrow raised high on his forehead. “I’d love to brag about my omniscience, but shifters aren’t in great supply of scientists to study these things.”

  Val flushed, though she wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t up to her that humans refused to study shifters beyond the basics. “So you’re not even certain I am a potential.”

  “You are.”

  “But if it’s never happened before—”

  “There’s a first time for everything,” he said matter-of-factly. Somehow, despite his arrogance, he managed not to sound condescending. “I know what it is just as much as you recognize the need to breathe.”

  Val folded her arms, still gripping the yew branch. “Seems like I should notice it, too.”

  The corner of his mouth curled. “Perhaps you did and mistook it for fear.”

  She shot him a dry look, which earned her a chuckle. Low and throaty, his voice spread an odd tingle through her torso.

  “We’ll be there soon.” Riker turned on his heel and resumed walking. “Try to keep up.”

  “We’ll see who tries to keep up with whom,” muttered Val.

  “Hmm?”

  She didn’t repeat herself, certain he’d heard just fine. But he was gaining ground, so she reluctantly took up a slight jog to catch up. Soon they resumed a brisk yet calming walk. Riker’s legs were longer, but Val knew her stamina was near equal to an average shifter.

  Trouble keeping up, my short ass.

  Within minutes, Riker’s pace slowed until he stopped altogether. Val only noticed because, while staring at his butt, she realized it had ceased moving.

  “We’re almost there.” His voice slipped out in a low rumble. “I highly suggest you walk at least a pace behind me.”

  “Like a good, subservient woman?” she asked sardonically.

  “Or like a nonthreatening human.”

  She opened her mouth to reply, but a warm touch to her fingers sent a jolt across her flesh. He twined his fingers with hers. For a moment she felt only heat, and in that moment she swore she heard a faint hum reverberate between them.

  Is that what he hears? The song of a blood bond? If so, it was uniquely intoxicating. The strength of an opera coming together with the sweet lilt of eternal promises, buzzing through her body like a swarm of wasps. Val struggled to keep her expression neutral.

  Riker moved, pulling her with him, and the hum faded into obscurity. It left her empty in a way she’d never sensed before, like someone had carved a hole in her heart with a rusty spoon.

  He led her through more trees, more bushes, until they came to a clearing. At first Val didn’t see anything but the forest drenched in golden evening light, casting orange hues over lush greenery. A small cave lay several feet before them. She couldn’t parse its depths beyond a slant of orange sunlight. Around it, thin white objects had been strewn about, and it took her a couple seconds to recognize as animal bones.

  Hopefully only animal bones. She should have run. Why wasn’t she running?

  The siren song of the blood bond. If that was what a potential heard, what would happen if they completed the bond? She could only imagine—but her imagination gladly produced erotic sensations in spades.

  A deep, almost inaudible growl emitted from the man clasping her hand. She shuddered. It was a sound she’d never heard before, not in this cadence, but her soul instinctively recognized it as that of a hunter. Not just any hunter: the sole one in charge. The king.

  The alpha.

  Her suspicions spiked to a needle’s point when others poured out from the cave. Three wore their human forms, but the other dozen were lions.

  Fucking lions.

  Val curbed the wild urge to laugh. Like Mom always said…

  The urge gurgled and died when the lions began to melt. Or, rather, shift into their human forms. The process was so similar to melting at first that Val almost thought she’d entered the scene of a bad horror film.

  Shifters walked the cities plenty, but always in human form. Clothed, groomed, like any other human. Val could recognize them by the gold flecks in their eyes and occasionally by little remnants that didn’t shift with the bolder kind, like tails or ears. It was rare that a human could honestly claim to see one change form in real time. It was stranger than she ever could have imagined, no matter how many movies tried to capture it with Hollywood effects. The crackling of bones and tendons shifting was unreal, the sight of flesh and fur melting together and weaving a new form uniquely terrifying.

  Though a part of her wanted to scream, the more stubborn side smashed that urge to the ground. Val stood to her full, admittedly unimpressive height and watched. The only sign of her weakness was when she tightened her grip on Riker’s hand.

  When he squeezed back, she realized he’d known she’d need the support.

  Aching curiosity sent her heart racing. What sort of man is he, really? He perplexed and intrigued her: arrogant and cruel, yet patient and understanding. In the span of a few hours, he’d proven to be a complex man.

  Why did she want to discover more of him so badly? Why did her fear lend itself to the urge to run her fingertips over the sharp inclines of his splendid deltoids?

  Val tore her eyes away from his blasé expression to the lion shifters before them. Those who had shifted were naked, and she was pierced by a sense of poisonous envy. At least five were women close to her age, while the others were older men and women and a couple of younger children. All five of the women—Competition, her instincts hissed—were objectively gorgeous. Tall, lithe, with lustrous locks ranging from white-gold to fiery orange.

  And every last one eyed her with disdain.

  “What’s this, Riker?” the closest one asked. She was the most striking of all: long legs, wide hips, a full yet not overabundant bust with pert little nipples. Shaking her silky strawberry-blonde hair over her shoulder, she sneered at Val. “Dinner? How sweet.”

  Riker snorted. “Touch her and I’ll pluck out your vertebrae one by one, Lona.”

  Lona’s eyes narrowed. “If not dinner, then what is she?”

  Riker pulled Val forward. She was surprised how gentle the move was, though he didn’t once relax his grip. “Val, this is my pride.” His hand left hers, the breeze cold in the wake of his touch. With the barest of caresses, his nails ran up her arm until he had a protective embrace around he
r shoulders. “She’s my blood bonded.”

  Val didn’t have a chance to blink before chaos erupted.

  “Your what?”

  “That’s impossible. I mean, look at her.”

  “Real funny, Riker. Don’t quit your day job.”

  Val stared as the shifters continued to raise their voices. All aimed their annoyances at Riker, who took it with stoic calm. Lona was the loudest by a long yard, and it was her argument that finally brought the rest to silence. “She’s a potential blood bonded. Not an actual one.” Her nose scrunched. “You clearly haven’t fucked her, thank God.”

  Something in her tone banished any ideation of keeping calm. Val glowered. “Yet,” she said through her teeth.

  In the space of a blink, Lona stood before her. Tall, proud, with a queenly stature and condescending stare. She was meant to be intimidating … and Val would be a fool to say she wasn’t. In fact, Val was already looking for a way out. She kept the yew branch loose in her hand, non-threatening, unassuming.

  If this bitch wanted a fight, she’d have to throw the first punch. Val wasn’t going to show weakness just yet.

  Lona flicked a finger in disgust, gesturing at Val’s head without touching it, as though she were leery of becoming contaminated by vermin hair dye. “Joke’s over, Riker. Just put her down and let us eat.” She addressed Riker despite staring Val down.

  Warmth spread through Val’s face. Put me down? Like I’m an old pet? This woman had to be the ringleader of the lionesses, the one gunning for Riker’s affections. The song and dance was older than time itself.

  Riker said nothing, almost as though he were waiting. Val couldn’t imagine what for.

  Obviously emboldened, Lona’s hand whipped out faster than a garter snake and twined around Val’s ponytail. She yanked.

  Val’s vision went red.

  Lona’s voice raised. “This is ridic—”

  Val swung the branch. She smashed the lioness’s elbow with a solid splintering noise that echoed between her ears.

  Lona screamed and released her.

  Val swung again, aiming for her head, but Lona caught the branch with her other hand.