Loved by Alpha Wolf

by Sarah J. Stone

  “I'm ready,” he said, going out to the hallway. The doctor looked up from his notes, surprised

  “That was fast,” he answered. “Are you sure?”

  “I'm sure,” Spencer replied. “I will see her again someday, and I want to speed that process along.”

  The doctor's brow furrowed. He heard a lot of talk about death in his career, but that was a confusing phrase. He didn't question it, though. People said odd things in the throes of grief.

  “All right,” he said. “And again, I'm sorry.”

  “It's all right,” Spencer repeated. “I'll see her again soon. I have to.”

  Chapter 15

  “And what about marriage? Have you ever thought about remarrying?”

  Ariel froze, looking at the reporter in the mirror. She was used to doing interviews just about every second she wasn't performing. She was the biggest name in theater and had broken into Hollywood several years ago. Her dancing career had given way to an acting career that she thought would keep her distracted after Alexander died. Truthfully, she threw herself into the role because she couldn't stand being herself.

  It had been twenty years since he died, slipping away on Umora despite everyone's best efforts. It had thrown her into a state of grief that she hadn't thought she'd be able to survive.

  True to Nicholas' word, she remained a dragon princess. They weren't as close as they were twenty years ago, but she was still their sister. It just hurt to see their lives successful and happy. All three brothers had children; all their spouses had managed to find a way to survive. Only she was alone, and it broke her heart every time she saw them holding hands.

  “No,” she said, quickly. “I won't be remarrying. I think this interview is over.”

  The reporter realized that they had screwed up, and got up. “Ariel–”

  “Thank you,” she practically shoved them out of the door, slamming it behind them.

  Only then did she let a tear slip down her cheek.

  She quickly moved to the makeup mirror to dab up the tear and fix the damage that had been done. She was due on stage in ten minutes, and she was glad it was a show she had done a million times before.

  She tried not to think about the fact that the first time she had done this show, Alexander had been alive. He had scoffed, shaking his head, and telling her that as long as she was happy, he didn't care that the show rapped the American Constitution. What would he think, now that she had toured with it off and on for twenty years?

  She felt numb as the lights dimmed and the opening music played. She was just going through the motions, dancing the steps, moving with her partner through the beat. She didn't feel a thing, except for trying to push out the grief.

  It wasn't until she came to the very front of the stage during the second act that she felt a shock. She spun around, searching the dark auditorium. She was a professional; she didn't miss a beat. But she certainly threw off her partners, trying to change the blocking every second song to get close to the edge of the stage.

  She could have sworn she felt a dragon in the crowd, somewhere.

  The theater seated three-thousand people; she couldn't pinpoint it. Her skills were rusty; it had been a long time since they had been put to use. She remembered the days when the dragons taught her to hone it, to search for links between two beings, and to sniff out magical trails. Those days when they were all young, happy, and full of adrenaline.

  “What the hell were you up to?” her partner asked as the curtain fell the final time. “Did you forget everything?”

  “I hear the crowd roaring; I couldn't have done that bad,” she snapped. All she wanted was to go back to the hotel and pull the covers over her head. She didn't want to deal with people; she didn't want to feel their life forces.

  So, what if there were dragons in the audience? They could have come from anywhere in the galaxy; they could have come through the Other. She felt it occasionally, passing someone on the street or standing in a taxi cue. None of it felt familiar; none of it felt like the one thing she searched for.

  It was as if the only thing she could feel for anymore was a dragon prince. But she knew the one she was reaching out for would never reach back, no matter how much time she wasted.

  “Whatever. Don't forget to go to the stage door,” her partner said, rolling his eyes.

  “Oh, shit,” Ariel growled. She had forgotten that part of their contract was to sign autographs at the stage door in a rotating schedule. She had traded shifts twice to do interviews, and she knew she couldn't put it off any longer. If she asked someone else to do it one more time, her cast mates would likely never forgive her. “Do you have a pen?”

  “They have pens, diva,” he replied. “Just go quickly. You and I have an interview in the green room in half an hour.”

  “Yes, your majesty,” she rolled her eyes.

  “That's yes, General Sir,” he teased her and she broke away. She couldn't even stand the light flirting that actors often spat out. She knew it meant nothing, but it reminded her of a time when it did.

  How the crowds got to the stage door so fast was stunning to her. It was almost as if some of them had left the show early just to meet her. When she pushed it open, they cheered at the top of their lungs, shoving against her.

  Ariel shoved back, snapping at those who got too close. She told herself that she would sign ten autographs – that was it – and then she would go back in. Ten was a significant number; they couldn't blame her for that.

  “What name do you want me to make it out to?” she grabbed a tenth one, grateful that it would only be a few seconds. Frankly, she didn't care who they were or what they wanted written, so long as it was short.

  “Katianna,” said a voice.

  Ariel froze, looking up.

  Two different colored eyes looked back at her, a smile on her face. She didn't look anything like the last girl. The only similarities were the eyes and Spencer standing beside her.

  Ariel had never been rendered speechless before. Her jaw fell open, and she stared at Spencer, shaking her head.

  “No,” she said. “No. This isn't real.”

  “And yet the proof stands right in front of you,” Spencer said softly. “Can't you feel it?”

  “I felt you,” Ariel said, quickly. “That's it.”

  “Well, from what I understand, it's been a while since you honed your skills,” he answered. “You were radiant on the stage, just as we remember.”

  “You remember,” she said, looking back to Katianna, “Just one of you remembers.”

  “I remember you,” Katianna replied. She had dark skin this time around, and she was taller and curvier than last time. But something about a firm lilt in her voice sent shivers down Ariel's spine. “I used to watch videos of you last time. And this time.”

  “No.” Ariel closed her eyes. “No. We went over the possibilities. We investigated–”

  “And what did you find?” Spencer asked. “Anything conclusive?”

  “No,” she admitted. “But–”

  “Ariel, would you do us the honor of having a drink with us tonight?” Spencer asked. “We're across the street, at the Marriott.”

  “Why?” Ariel asked. “We weren't close. Why did you seek me out?”

  “There's something I need to tell you,” Spencer replied. “For old time's sake, then. For Alexander.”

  He used the magic word – the word that he knew she couldn't deny. She nodded silently, agreeing to meet them at their room.

  What in the world did he want to talk to her about? What did it matter? What he have to say, she thought?

  Still, she couldn't stay away. She rushed through the interview and barely changed before she headed across the street. Her heart was hammering as she got into the elevator, taking it to the top floor.

  She knocked on the door to the penthouse with sweaty palms, brushing her hair back from her eyes. The doors were mirrored, and she stared at her reflection for a few moments. She was still gorge
ous, her red hair and still a solid color. Her face was more defined, as often happened with age. Her small body was a little wider, her legs a little thicker.

  She had a briefly thought of Alexander, seeing the fact that stared back at her. If he was still around, would he still think she was beautiful? Would he still love her? Or would their marriage have given up the ghost a long time ago?

  Spencer pulled open the door with a smile.

  “Ariel, thank you for coming.”

  “Please make it fast,” she said as she stepped into the room. “I don't have long, and I'm tired.”

  “Of course,” he said. “You were working. Katianna, Ariel is here.”

  She came out of the bedroom, starling Ariel all over again with her face. Ariel looked her up and down hesitantly.

  “I heard your death was painful,” Ariel said at last, the only thing she could think of saying. Katianna smiled.

  “That part, I don't remember. I only remember good memories of last time. You and I in the palace, staring each other down like this. We were almost friends by the end, I think.”

  “Anyone could know that,” Ariel said, clutching her purse with shaking hands. “Anything that you claim to know, anyone could guess, or Spencer could feed to you.”

  Katianna glanced to Spencer, who seemed relaxed.

  “Yes,” Spencer admitted. “You are right. Everything that she knows, everything that happened with her graves, it could just be logically explained away. But the feelings you know in your heart, Ariel, the feeling you have when you see the person you are supposed to spend the rest of your life with, those don't have an explanation. You just look at someone, and you know, even if they are in a different body.”

  “Why I am here?” she asked, at last. “Did you bring me here to throw my sad love life in his face?”

  “No,” Spencer said. “I'm sorry. We should have made it clear. Come this way.”

  “Why?” she half whined, her shoulders sinking as she followed him to the second part of their suite. Spencer pushed open the door to the bedroom, and Ariel suddenly froze.

  It felt like when she saw the wolves in the throne room. Something felt familiar, and yet different. Something was compelling, buried underneath a different coat.

  Inside the bedroom was a young man. He had golden hair, falling into his eyes, and he was wearing a suit, well cut to his lanky frame. His cheek bones were high, his jaw was strong, and he was a few inches taller than her.

  He met her eyes, and she felt like her chest seized up. She knew this feeling, this magical strain, but she couldn't bring herself to say it.

  “Hello,” the young man said, staring at her. “I think we know each other.”

  “Alexander?” her voice finally cracked. He took a step forward, and she took in a huge breath, feeling the magic.

  “You were my wife, weren't you?” he said, softly. “You were my love.”

  “Yes,” tears slipped down her face. “But it's been twenty years.”

  “You are beautiful,” he said, and she fell into his arms. “Still.”

  “Oh, my God,” she whispered, laying her head on his chest. “Oh, my God, is this real?”

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “I want it to be real,” she sobbed, her walls coming down.

  “Then it is real,” he replied, and she said no more, remembering their wedding vows.

  “Till death do us part,” they had said.

  And beyond.

  ***THE END***

  Desired by Alpha Bear Preview

  Shadow Claw Book 2

  Sarah J. Stone

  Chapter 1

  Deep inside the heart of the woods, a section avoided by shifters and other paranormal alike, Nina Raven shed her clothes and stepped into the circle she had drawn with her blood. She ran her pale, slender fingers over the slit in her wrist and watched it heal. As soon as her skin mended, she closed her eyes, interlinked her fingers, and started to chant.

  The wind picked up speed around the circle, and the leaves danced and flew, helpless victims of the strong gust. The trees swayed, and Nina’s chanting grew stronger. Her features remained smooth, her posture strong. She did not let the outraged shrieks that met her ear interrupt the flow of her spell. The screams continued, as she stood in the middle of the circle, indifferent to the sweat that poured down her face.

  She was a prodigy. At least that is what she had heard from her sisters in the clan. Mother had wanted her to move into the inner circle when she had turned twelve. For a witch of her age, it was unheard of to join the senior ranks, but Mother resided over all the clans in this area, and her word was law. Nina had been living a very sheltered life until she was forced to join the Circle. She had always been a quiet child, observant to a fault, but that had worked in her favor. The Circle was party to some of the strongest witches in the West region, and these individuals were power hungry, ready to stab each other in the back to climb up the ladder. To them, such a young girl was easy prey. So, her entire life, Nina had forced herself to blend in, to become a part of the scenery – never too important, nor too prominent.

  Of course, Mother taking such a personal interest in her had not really helped. She had spent ten years studying directly under Mother. Nina was not stupid. She knew there was a reason that Mother had been training her, but Morrigan Blackthorne was not an individual to share her plans. Cold and ruthless, she maintained the appearance of a young woman, not betraying her true age.

  Nobody really knew how old Mother was.

  It had been an accident finding out what Nina did. The scars on her ankles could not be healed now, courtesy of Mother. By spending so much time with her, Nina picked up a few things. She knew exactly how to slow Mother down, if not stop her completely.

  Her crystal-blue eyes opened, and she raised her arms, the intensity of her chant growing wilder. When the pale silvery hue gathered at the borders of the circle, Nina threw out her arms, her eyes turning a pure white. The slivery mist flew out in all directions with such force that the trees bowed backwards. It took a few seconds for Nina to gather herself.

  Now, suddenly exhausted, she looked around and ran tired fingers through her cropped black hair. The first thing she had done after fleeing was to chop off all her luscious hair. Her hair used to be the envy of Mother. She would not let her tie it up, preferring to see her wear it down. Mother was essentially the High Priestess, and she had enough power to alter her hair anyway that she liked. However, she had once told Nina wistfully, in one of those rare moments that the young girl had witnessed the woman inside her, that there was something infinitely precious about being born with such a gift. Nina did not hate her hair. She had been quite sad to see it go. But, it was a defining feature of hers and practicality had won over. Right now, witch hunters from every coven were looking for her. She needed to be invisible.

  “Totters,” she called out, her voice quiet, carrying a husky element. The leaves on the branch above her rustled as a magnificent bird swooped down and hovered over her, finally coming to land on her head. It looked down at Nina, and she looked up. “Did you find an opening?”

  The falcon shook his head. The familiar male voice sounded in her head. “I can sense that they are here, but their protection spells cannot be seen through.”

  Totters had become her familiar when she was but a child. Every witch got her own familiar once she crossed puberty, which brought a boost of power in a witch, helping her summon a creature whose loyalty was hers until it died. A familiar’s life span was tied to his or her master.

  Nina sighed. “I’m too exhausted to do another spell. We have been walking for two days now. I need some food to get my energy back. Are you sure you–”

  Totter’s tone was dry as he cut her off. “Yes, Master. Their barriers are strong.” He opened his wings and took off in a random direction. “I’ll see if I can find some fruit. In the meantime, cover yourself. A naked human gets more attention than you need.”

  Gathe
ring the pile of clothes on the ground into her arms, Nina ran after him, tugging on her blouse swiftly.

  This was the first time in her entire life that she was unsupervised. Alone, in the quiet of the dense woods, she had to look over her shoulder to see whether there was anyone with malevolent intent just waiting for her guard to slip. She frowned, and told herself to focus on the task at hand.

  She needed to find her life tree. She knew it was deep within fairy territory. Her dream had shown her the path she had to take, but, right now, she could not find anything resembling what she had seen in her prophetic dream.

  Nina’s great grandmother had had the ability to see glimpses of the future in her dreams. When Nina’s ability had been triggered two days before she was taken to Mother, she kept quiet about it. Granny Rowena had warned her on her deathbed that holding onto some secrets would save her life, and now Nina knew what she meant.

  She ignored the slices of sharp pain as the rock and debris cut into her feet. Her stomach rumbled, and she did not see the log lying there, covered by moss, in her distracted state.

  Falling onto her face, she cried out in pain. Totters flew back and settled on the ground. “How bad?” He nudged the girl with his head, and Nina ran a trembling hand over his feathered head and then touched her forehead. Her hand came away with blood on it.

  “I do not like blood,” she murmured to Totters, who cocked his head and stared at her. She concentrated on her wound and was about to cast a healing incantation when she heard the bushes across from her rustle. She glanced over, but nothing came out. Shaking her head, she honed her focus once again. However, something disturbed the air around her, and she frowned, looking up.

  Nothing visible to the naked eyes was there. But for the air to be so harsh here, there had to be something that was bothering the atmosphere in this area.

  She closed her eyes and looked.

  The strong magic that shimmered in the air was tangible. All the veins of magic running on the barrier mesmerized her. It had to have taken someone who was a master to create something so complex and beautiful. Fascinated as she reached out to touch it, her concentration on her blocking spell wavered just enough for the hunters on her trail to pinpoint her location.