Red Hot Alphas: 11 Novels of Sexy, Bad Boy, Alpha Males (Red Hot Boxed Sets Book 2)

by Jo Raven

Calla’s heart began to beat irregularly. It pattered quickly, like a drum, then skipped a beat, then pattered quickly again. The inconsistency drove her terror to a fever pitch. She began to shake all over.

  The man was coming. The gun was coming.

  They’d be shot down in the red light of evening, and it would all be over.

  She didn’t know what to do.

  Could they fight? They had no weapons. Right now, her heart was in her throat, and she could hardly breathe, let alone move.

  The footsteps were coming closer. The whistling grew more distinct. It was crisp and clear, hitting all the right notes. But it was sounding almost ghostly, unreal and unsettling.

  Beside her, Ryder’s entire body was rigid. She could see his muscles standing up against his skin, every vein bulging. The cords of his neck stood out. His eyes were narrowed into slits. He was ready for whatever might happen.

  The leaves crunched.

  Calla shuddered.

  And then…

  Then it was suddenly silent.

  She turned to look at Ryder, but he was sniffing the air.

  Ryder started to get excited. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he let out a few short barking noises.

  “What?” she whispered. She liked this less than his tense body.

  Of course, Ryder didn’t tell her.

  And while she was begging with him to speak, to explain…

  A wolf jumped out of the underbrush and tackled Ryder.

  Calla shrieked. The wolf was huge and furry, with enormous glistening teeth, and she couldn’t help but think of that night with the red balloon, that day so long ago, and the despair took her again, the fear and the anger, and—

  She leapt on the wolf, wrapping her arms around its torso, and yanked on it.

  She and the wolf fell backwards. “Let go of Ryder!” she yelled.

  But then… then it was confusing, because the wolf was squirming in her arms, except it wasn’t his limbs that were moving, but rather his skin. His fur was ripping and changing, and he was changing shape, and…

  Calla flung the body of the wolf away from her, scrambling backwards.

  Within minutes, it wasn’t a wolf there. It was Jasper. He was naked, and he was laughing.

  She averted her eyes, full of conflicted emotions. She was still terrified, but she was also confused, and she was embarrassed by Jasper’s nudity as well. Additionally, she was angry, because he’d found them.

  Jasper went off into the woods and came back with his jeans on. He was holding his shirt in one hand. It was white.

  “You.” Calla got to her feet. “You’ve been chasing us and scaring us. Where’s your gun?”

  “I just got here,” said Jasper. “I shifted into a wolf to teach you a lesson, girlie. Don’t think I won’t hurt you if I have to.”

  She drew back. What was he saying?

  “Don’t try leaving the camp again,” said Jasper. “You can’t get very far on foot. And wherever you do go, I can track you. You left a trail that I could easily scent out. But it’s annoying and a waste of my time. If you try it again, you’re going to feel teeth and claws.”

  In spite of herself, she shivered.

  Jasper gestured with his head. “Come on. Back to the camp.”

  She hugged herself. “You don’t have a gun? You weren’t out here, circling us?”

  “No,” said Jasper. “What are you talking about?”

  “There’s someone else out here,” she said. “Ryder doesn’t like him. I don’t either. I think he’s dangerous, whoever he is.”

  “No one lives out here, lady,” said Jasper. “You got yourself worked up over nothing. We’re the only people here.”

  “I don’t…” She knew that the other man was there. “Can’t you scent out his trail?”

  “We’re going back to camp,” said Jasper. He took her by the arm.

  She let Jasper lead her away, but she couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder as they left. The man with the gun was still out here. She was sure of it.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Ryder was vaguely bemused when they started going back the way they had come, but not entirely so. He wasn’t much accustomed to the idea of setting out for a destination. Certainly, wolves did it, but Ryder hadn’t been a normal wolf, even when he was changed for all those years. He’d had a pack, but it had been a human pack, and so he didn’t behave the way wolves in the wild might. Instead, he’d been all alone, and he’d wandered aimlessly for years and years, never straying too far from his human pack, but never quite being part of them either. His life had consisted of looking for food, running and jumping through the woods, and sleeping. Nothing more.

  Now that he was back in the man skin, food wasn’t a problem. It was brought to him, and he didn’t have to hunt for it.

  Ryder sometimes missed the thrill of the hunt, but he didn’t miss the times when food was scarce, when he nearly starved.

  It took quite a long time to get back to the camp, though Ryder didn’t know that was what it was called. The sky had darkened and the stars had come out. It was a warm summer night, and Ryder was happy not to be moving anymore.

  Jasper started a fire. Ryder didn’t remember Jasper’s name. He only knew that he was pack. There was a familiarity to Jasper, something that soothed Ryder and let him know he was with family.

  But Ryder could also see that the soft woman didn’t like Jasper at all, and he didn’t understand that.

  Ryder curled up next to the fire, glorying in its warmth. Above him, Jasper and the soft woman spoke in clipped voices, only occasionally exchanging words. He could tell that they were angry with each other. He was troubled by this. He liked the soft woman very, very much, and he wanted her to be accepted in his pack. He knew there would be trouble otherwise.

  In fact, earlier, when he’d been with her, he come so close to remembering…

  He’d found a word, and he’d whispered it, and in that moment, everything that he had ever known as a human seemed destined to come flooding back. He was certain it was going to, in fact. He was going to be a man.

  And then…

  Then, nothing. It didn’t come. Possibly because the soft woman had pushed him away. He wasn’t sure what to make of that either. He thought that she liked him. He could smell her, and her scent told him she was just as interested in mating with him as he was with her. And yet, she seemed to resist him. He didn’t know why that was. Perhaps it was some human thing that he couldn’t understand anymore.

  He was so frustrated. Why did he wear the man skin if he couldn’t think like a man?

  In truth, Ryder didn’t think at all. He had bursts of emotion, motivations, desires, and fears, but nothing that was entirely equivalent to human thought. But he remembered human thought in a hazy, abstract way, and he wanted it back.

  There was a noise—high-pitched and jittery. Ryder jumped before he remembered that Jasper had a little box that he carried in his pocket that made the noise. Jasper would hold it to his ear and talk to it as if it were a person. Ryder found it strange, but the box didn’t seem to be a threat, so he didn’t worry too much about it. He settled back down on the fire while Jasper spoke into his box.

  When Jasper was finished, he put the box back in his pocket and took the soft woman by the arm. He began to drag her back towards the freight container.

  The soft woman resisted, yelling at Jasper. She didn’t want to be locked back up in that big, dark, metal room. Ryder didn’t blame her.

  He growled at Jasper.

  Jasper turned on him, saying angry words that Ryder couldn’t quite understand. Ryder didn’t care. He wasn’t afraid of Jasper. He had to keep his brother from putting the soft woman into the container. She didn’t want to go there, and Ryder didn’t want her in there.

  Ryder wedged himself between Jasper and the soft woman, snarling.

  Eventually, Jasper gave up. Instead of putting the woman in the container, he put her in the tent. He zipped her inside. He stopped t
o talk to Ryder and give him instructions. Ryder couldn’t understand the words, but he knew from some of Jasper’s gestures that he wanted him to stay here, not to go anywhere else.

  Ryder didn’t plan on going anywhere, of course. But if the soft woman wandered off into the woods again, he would have to go after her. He couldn’t let her run off alone. She might be in danger.

  Still, he had no way to communicate that to Jasper, so he smiled at his brother as he rested on all fours.

  Jasper, clearly frustrated, turned on his heel and went back to his container. He drove away and left Ryder alone.

  By now, it was dark outside. Ryder wandered around the camp for a little while, feeling confused and unsure of himself. He wanted to be close to the soft woman again, but he found the desire strange and foreign. It wasn’t a wolf desire, not exactly. But it was strong.

  He went to the tent and sat down outside. He made a whining noise.

  The soft woman spoke within—her voice sounded irritated and dismissive. She didn’t want Ryder around.

  Ryder ducked down his head, disappointed.

  Then he lifted his head again. He didn’t care, he decided. He wanted to be near the soft woman, and he would do it, no matter what. It was important to be close to her… important for some reason, and he wasn’t sure what that was, but he knew it, deep and certain as he knew the moon hung in the sky.

  Ryder began to fumble with the zippers on the tent. He didn’t know how to use them, but he had watched Jasper do it, and it didn’t look that hard.

  The soft woman made angry noises inside the tent.

  Ryder struggled for a few minutes more, ignoring her protests.

  And then, he managed to get the zipper to open, and there was an opening into the tent. He could see the soft woman, huddled up on a sleeping bag. She was crying.

  Ryder cocked his head, looking at the tears leaking out of the woman’s eyes. She was sad, and he didn’t like it. He wanted—more than anything—to make her happy always.

  He crept inside, trying to be quiet and careful, so as not to make her frightened.

  She saw him, but she only started to cry more.

  Ryder wasn’t sure what to do. He watched her. If she were a wolf like him, he would rub his head against her flank or lick her fur. He would yip at her until she stood up and came running with him. If that didn’t work, he would bring her something—some small prey that she could sink her teeth into.

  But he didn’t think any of those things were appropriate in this instance.

  He moved a little closer, and he caught her scent. She smelled so female and wonderful, and he was seized with the desire to mate with her again. Between his legs, he felt himself hardening.

  And with that sensation came a scrap of memory, a knowledge of what to do.

  He eased his arm around the soft woman, rubbing her shoulder and drawing her against his chest.

  It was the right thing. The woman clung to him, burying her face against his body.

  He gently ran his hands over her back.

  Her shoulders shook.

  He touched her. She was so, so soft. He loved the way her body felt, all of her curves pressed up against him.

  She lifted her face to look at him, and she said his name. “Ryder.”

  He wanted to put his mouth on her mouth again. He remembered doing that—remembered that it was something humans did for mating. He didn’t know why. It was useless for wolves. But he remembered that it had been nice, that it had felt good, and that it had… had…

  He tucked his fingers under her chin, cocking his head from one side to the other as he surveyed her.

  She didn’t stop him. She just gazed back at him, her eyes still glittering wetly, though her tears had stopped.

  He leaned closer, and he pressed his lips against hers.

  She sighed against him.

  He kissed deeper, nudging his tongue into her mouth. Ah, that was bliss. He didn’t think there was anything sweeter than her soft body pressed against him and her mouth opening for him, allowing him to probe her. He gave himself over to it—to her.

  But she pushed him away. Not too forcefully, not angrily, but insistently. “Ryder, no. You can’t do that.”

  He’d understood her. Those words… Oh, yes, it was coming back now. He knew the words. They were coming because he was close to her. He was sure of it. He grasped her shoulders and pulled her tight against him. He kissed her again.

  But she struggled. “Stop it, I mean it.” And there was a note of panic in her tone.

  He didn’t want to scare her. So he pulled back. It was confusing, because he could smell her arousal. It was making him even more excited, the fact that she wanted him too. But he remembered now that humans could feel things that were different that what their bodies wanted. It was confusing to be a human. That was why there had to be so many words.

  He strove now to form one. He put his lips together. Puffed out air between them. “Puh…” he said. Yes, that was it! “Puh… lease,” he said. “Please.”

  She sucked in breath.

  He stroked the underside of her jaw. “Pretty,” he murmured. “Please.”

  She was stunned. “Ryder?”

  He kissed her again. The kissing was making the words come back, and so he needed to do it. She needed to let him. If he could only make her understand.

  But she was wriggling away from him, pushing out of his arms. “You spoke. You said something.”

  He reached for her.

  “Say something again.”

  “Need… to… kiss,” he managed. And then he tackled her, pressing her body down into the sleeping bag, covering her pliable form with his own. She gave under him, her legs parting as if by instinct. And then her pelvis cradled his as he rocked against her.

  Oh, but she felt good. He drove his hardness over her flesh, thinking about how nice it would be to sink into her body, to join with her.

  The thought made him more aroused, and he began to kiss her harder, his hands moving over her torso, skimming her waist, darting beneath her shirt. He wanted to touch her skin.

  “Ryder, stop,” she said. She was breathless. “We can’t do this. You’re not right in the head, and I can’t take advantage—”

  He silenced her with his mouth, covering her lips with his, sweeping his tongue inside again to claim her.

  She gasped. Her body undulated against him.

  His fingers traveled over her skin. She was even softer beneath her shirt, pillowy silken skin. He could hardly even imagine how amazing it would be to have his bare skin against hers. It would be like being engulfed in paradise.

  More words were coming back to him now. The thing binding her breasts was a bra, and he remembered how to undo the clasp. He was fiercely turned on now, and he set about freeing her from the contraption. He wanted his hands on her, maybe even his mouth.

  She let out a little strangled cry. “Ryder, what are you doing?”

  He pushed up her shirt, uncovering her there. Oh, she was lovely. She had very large, very round breasts, and they were capped with tiny pink nipples, which stood straight up in little peaks. He rubbed his thumbs over her nipples.

  She moaned. “Oh, we shouldn’t, we shouldn’t.”

  “We should,” he rasped, lowering his mouth to her nipple.

  But then—

  Then, it was like a burst in his head—too much knowledge at once.

  Enoch—the cause—his father—obligations—the man in the woods—

  He knew the man in the woods, the one with the gun. He had to…

  Ryder scrambled off of the soft woman. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I have to take care of… I’ll be back.” He threw himself out of the tent.

  * * *

  Calla sat up, thoroughly confused. She yanked her shirt down over her body, covering herself.

  Outside the tent, she could hear Ryder yelling. “Leroy! I know you’re out there. Show yourself. We’ll talk this out.”

  Leroy? What? Were thos
e words?

  She ran out of the tent after Ryder. “Wait!” she called after him.

  He was stumbling towards the woods, as if he was having trouble walking upright. “I have to find Leroy. The man. The one with the gun.”

  He was talking! Those were actual words coming out of his mouth!

  He looked at her. “You need to stay back. He’s dangerous.” He turned away and raised his voice. “Get out here, Leroy! You and I both know what this is about.”

  “You can talk.” It was all she could think.

  “I’ll be back,” he said. “I’ll explain.”

  “No, don’t go,” she said. “You can talk.”

  But he was already staggering off.

  She reached back and resnapped her bra. Then she took off after him.

  He ran into the dark woods.

  She went behind him. “Ryder, wait.”

  Ahead of her, he fell to his knees. He turned to look at her, panic crossing his features. “No, no,” he said. “No, wait, I need… It’s all…” And then the only noise that came out of his mouth was a howling noise—chilling and agonized.

  She knelt down next to him. “Ryder, what’s wrong?”

  The look he gave her was dull and uncomprehending.

  “Talk to me,” she said.

  But he didn’t. She tried for what seemed like hours, but no more words came out of his mouth. Ryder had reverted to an animal again, somehow, and she didn’t understand what had happened.

  She’d heard him speak. She knew she had.

  Sure you didn’t just imagine it, Calla? taunted a nasty voice in her head. Maybe you wanted his hands on you so badly that you pretended he could talk.

  Ugh. She clutched her head and paced. By now, she and Ryder were back near the camp, but Ryder was lying next to the fire pit, which was only dead embers, looking forlorn.

  He wasn’t speaking. He wasn’t doing anything except the same animal behavior he’d done before. She felt sick.

  Okay, so it was true that she thought the Beast Man was attractive. Anyone would think the same thing. He was gorgeous, with his toned, tanned skin, and those haunting dark eyes. And, okay, he was a phenomenal kisser. It had been a long time since she’d been really and truly kissed, she had to admit. She and Chad had devolved to pecks most of the time. Open-mouthed kissing only happened when they were having sex, which didn’t end up being very often, not now that he was sure she’d never have a baby. No, once Chad had realized that there was no family in their future, he lost all interest in her. And she’d been separated from him for a while now, so it had been a long time since she’d had a real kiss.