Alpha Hunter

by Cyndi Friberg

She felt lightheaded, floating on a sea of tranquil pleasure. He licked and stroked against and into her. In the past her lovers had focused on her clit and brought her quickly to orgasm. This was different. He explored her, learned her taste and texture from the inside out.

  Then he gently sucked on her folds, drawing a throaty moan from her with each tender pull. Her hips began to rock, helpless to remain still despite her determination to surrender. He released her wrists and allowed her legs to slide down his upper arms. She ended up sprawled before him, open and accepting.

  He pushed his fingers back into her passage as his lips closed around her clit. She was primed and more than ready for detonation. His lips pulled in a slow, careful suck as his fingers gradually filled her. She arched and cried out sharply as pleasure burst inside her. Her inner muscles gripped his fingers in rippling pulses and his lips skillfully prolonged her release.

  She felt his fingers sliding in and out and yet she could feel her body caressing him. His lips tenderly worked her clit as the taste of her passion filled her own mouth. It was confusing and exhilarating, unlike anything she’d experienced before. They were united by desire, connected in a way she’d never dreamed possible.

  He slowly pulled his fingers out of her clinging warmth and raised her against his lips. He genuinely loved her taste, savoring the evocative musk as he licked her clean. Angie trembled, stunned and uncertain, yet utterly replete.

  Long moments later, he arched over her and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Do you understand now? That was just foreplay. If I join my body with yours, the connection will be even more intense.”

  Understanding shattered her momentary calm. He hadn’t been overwhelmed by desire; he’d been determined to prove his point. She shoved him away and scrambled out from under him, desperately reaching for her discarded clothes. “Thanks for the lesson, asshole. I won’t bother you again!” He reached for her arm, but she twisted away and ran for the nearest bedroom.

  * * * * *

  Angie was still trembling an hour later when someone knocked on the bedroom door. It was insulting that it had taken Blayne this long to make sure she was all right, but she wasn’t ready to confront him so she just glared at the barrier.

  “Angie, it’s Aria. Is it all right if I come in?”

  She scooted off the bed and hurried across the room. “Are you alone?” It was a cowardly way to ask. Still, she was too conflicted to deal with Blayne right now.

  “The men are downstairs. Blayne said you weren’t feeling well, so I thought I better check on you.”

  Angie eased the door open and offered Aria a thin smile. “I’m fine, just confused by all this.” She let the door swing open and returned to her seat on the side of the bed. Aria pulled a chair closer to the bed then sat as well. “I knew me and Tori had stumbled into something dangerous, but this is more than even my fertile imagination could have dreamed up.”

  “The Rodytes are ruthless. Believe me, I know. If the Shadow Assassins are in league with them, it’s best to just stay away.” Aria folded her hands in her lap. With mauve-streaked silver hair and lavender eyes, she looked every bit as ethereal as her name.

  “I’m not sure I can. If Nazerel gives up on me, he’ll victimize someone else.” She shook her head and released a shaky sigh. “I can’t let that happen if I can do anything to stop it.”

  “And can you? Has Blayne taught you to control your gift in a few short hours?”

  Heat crept up her neck as she thought about how she and Blayne had spent a good portion of that time. It wasn’t just the shattering orgasm. Every touch, every lick and suck had been evocative in its own right. She’d felt his need, his hunger for more than a fleeting release. And her emotions had been just as intense. He was right. Sex with an Ontarian was far different than anything she’d experienced before.

  “Are you lovers?” Aria’s delicate brows drew together over her nose. “I thought you’d just met.”

  “We did, but that doesn’t seem to matter.” She sighed, knowing it was impossible to explain something she didn’t understand herself. “We’re not lovers, yet, but it’s headed there fast.”

  Aria smiled. “Mystics have that effect on a lot of women.”

  Thinking of Blayne with “a lot of women” made Angie frown then realizing her reaction only deepened her displeasure. She was not a jealous person. Why was she acting this way with a man she hardly knew?

  Rather than stew in her own discontent, she changed the subject. “Did you know Drakkin before you came to Earth or was yours another whirlwind romance?”

  “Definitely a whirlwind. Drakkin snatched me out of my dressing room and brought me to Bilarri to keep me safe from people I didn’t even realize were hunting me.”

  “That must have gone over well.”

  Aria chuckled, her gaze suddenly dreamy. “I thought he was some sort of crazed fan. I was terrified yet fascinated. I’d never met anyone who was so…intense.”

  “Another Mystic trait, I presume. All Blayne has to do is look at me and I can’t think of anything but him.”

  “Drakkin had to work to earn my trust, but it still happened really fast by Earth standards.”

  Angie leaned back on her hands and studied her friend. Aria had been secretive on Earth, cautious, always guarded. Now she seemed far more confident, playful even. “I know Drakkin is some sort of ruler, but is he comparable to a European king or the mayor of an American city?”

  “Hautell is roughly the size of Canada, though it’s much more densely populated. But Drakkin is no longer Hautell’s king. He abdicated the throne when his son was old enough to rule. Drakkin had been king for several hundred years, so he was more than ready for someone else to take on all that responsibility.”

  It seemed rude to ask Drakkin’s age. She didn’t really know Aria all that well. Besides, a specific number didn’t matter as long as he treated Aria with respect and tenderness. “And how does a retired king spend his time?”

  “Drakkin is Director of the Symposium. They’re a council of esteemed minds from several different galaxies. They’re responsible for the Wisdom of the Ages.”

  “That sounds very impressive.” Angie laughed at her own ignorance. “But I have no idea what it means.”

  “Think of Earth’s internet, but every fact that’s entered into the Wisdom of the Ages is verified by at least three objective sources. Each member of the Symposium must agree to complete neutrality. They offer information without bias or social commentary. Their only allegiance is to the Symposium.”

  “If someone threatened you or the people of Hautell, Drakkin would remain neutral?” That seemed hard to believe even after their short acquaintance.

  “Of course not. He would take a leave of absence until the danger had been neutralized. If any member of the Symposium is directly involved in a conflict, they do the same. The policy protects the integrity of the information and prevents anyone from manipulating the Symposium as a whole.”

  “Earth could certainly use something like that. History is continually rewritten to further political agendas and too often propaganda becomes curriculum for the next generation.”

  “It was those sorts of trends that motivated Drakkin to form the Symposium in the first place. He’s dedicated the past century of his life to expanding the concept.”

  “Is Drakkin really more powerful than the Mystics on Ontariese?” The question sounded so ridiculous Angie immediately regretted the impulse.

  “The Conservatory was founded by a man name Vee. Vee was Drakkin’s apprentice. Vee was also my father. That’s why Drakkin came after me. He’d promised my father that he would protect me, and Drakkin takes his promises very seriously. As for being more powerful…” Aria paused for an elegant shrug. “I suppose he is. He’s had more time to hone his skill and increase his energy stores. Drakkin is much older than he looks.”

  “It doesn’t bother you that your husband is older than your father?”

  “Age is irrelevant when your li
fespan is measured in centuries rather than years.”

  Was she talking about Drakkin or herself? “Will you live that long?”

  “Hopefully. Our life forces are now joined so his incredible well of energy will extend my lifespan considerably.”

  She’d been rather nosy already, but she couldn’t help but ask, “Is your father still alive?”

  Aria shook her head and glanced into the distance. “Sending Drakkin to rescue me was my father’s last wish. We’ve interacted briefly on the metaphysical plane. I’d love to have known him better.”

  “Well, you seem genuinely happy. Drakkin must be doing something right.” She sighed, fiddling with the bedspread. “I hope my roller-coaster ride has a happy ending.”

  Aria stilled and all humor left her expression. “If you need some time to sort through your feelings, I can have Drakkin back Blayne off. You’ve been through a lot in the past few days. It’s natural to feel overwhelmed.”

  Angie suspected his absence would be more of a distraction than a blessing. She’d never hid from a conflict in her life and she didn’t intend to start now. “I’m not afraid of Blayne. If I need him to back off, I’ll tell him to. We don’t need a referee.”

  “All right.” Aria pushed to her feet. “Shall I send up a tray? You two were occupied during dinner.”

  “I’m not hungry, but I’d love another glass of blood wine. Might increase the chances that I’ll actually sleep.”

  “I’ll see to it. There should be an assortment of toiletries in the bathroom. Is there anything else you need?”

  “Could I borrow something to wear tomorrow? Blayne didn’t give me time to pack before we came here.”

  “I had no idea you left in such a hurry. You’re quite a bit taller than me, but I’m sure I can find something that will fit you.” Aria hurried from the room, then returned a short time later with an assortment of clothing draped over her arm. “I know it’s not your usual style, but I figured dresses and skirts would be more forgiving than pants with our height difference. If you stay more than a day or two, I’ll take you shopping.”

  “This is great. Thank you.” She took the clothes from Aria and laid them across the foot of the bed.

  “I wasn’t sure what to do about underwear. I can send one of the servants out for some. I didn’t think you’d want to borrow.”

  “I have no problem going commando for a day or two. If we’re going to stay longer, I’ll take you up on the shopping spree.” She gave Aria a hug and walked her to the door. “What about Blayne? Can you raid Drakkin’s closet for him?”

  “Blayne’s a Mystic. It’s likely he can conjure clothes, but I’ll ask Drakkin to be sure.”

  “Thank you for all of this.”

  “You’re welcome. Now get some rest.”

  The room felt empty and overly quiet after Aria left so Angie went out onto the railed balcony and watched the sun sink behind the trees. Other than the green-tinged sky the scene looked very much like Earth. Cool air caressed her cheek and the scent of pine or something similar drifted on the breeze, fresh and invigorating.

  Her surroundings might not look that different, but she was on an alien world. Her mind was still struggling with the reality of what that meant. Worse, she’d been brought here without resources. She knew no one but Blayne and Aria. She had no way to return home without their assistance. Not that going home was a much better option. Until the Shadow Assassins were caught or neutralized, she wasn’t safe on Earth.

  Vertigo swirled through her mind and weakened her knees. She grasped the balcony’s thick wooden railing, struggling to remain on her feet. Her vision blurred, light dimmed and then flared burning away reality.

  A room came into focus. The basic structure formed before the details separated from the shadows. An oblong table with simple wooden chairs, a kitchen in the background, and a sliding glass door framed by narrow windows. Angie didn’t understand the significance of the room until Nazerel walked in and sat down at the table. She tried to expand the image, to determine the location of the house. The harder she concentrated the weaker her body became.

  Arms wrapped around her, supporting and stabilizing her. She accepted the assistance without shifting her focus from the vision. Nazerel opened a thick notebook across the table. She’d heard about the notebook, knew it contained information on potential victims. Still, seeing hundreds of well-organized pages sent dread and anger twisting through her consciousness. The program was premeditated, each victim carefully chosen for characteristics she didn’t fully understand. It made the outcome even worse somehow. This was no crime of passion; it was the systematic targeting of a group of women for the benefit of others.

  Nazerel turned to a page near the middle of the notebook and angled the binder upward so the light hit the page just right. Angie saw the woman’s image and cringed. Pale blonde hair, delicate features, and a mysterious little smile, Jillian used this shot for publicity and included it with her resume. Why was Jillian in the notebook? This made no sense. With obvious interest, Nazerel passed his thumb over Jillian’s cheek almost as if he caressed the woman rather than a sheet of paper.

  No! Angie fought against the vision, battling her way back to reality. She would not stand by and allow a dear friend to be victimized in her place. The image bent, undulating as she struggled free of the image. Nazerel’s head came up and he looked around with obvious suspicion.

  “Angie?” A cruel smile twisted his lips and then the vision released.

  Angie returned to her body in a sickening rush. She gasped and blinked, bringing the balcony back into focus. She was sitting on the floor between Blayne’s thighs, her legs draped over one of his. His arm supported her back and he looked at her with obvious concern.

  “Are you with me?” He brushed her hair back from her face, his touch wonderfully gentle.

  “Almost.” She took a deep breath and waited for the lingering haze to dissipate. “I saw Nazerel, but I couldn’t tell where he was.”

  “Was the vision spontaneous or were you trying to find him?”

  She rubbed her temples, trying to alleviate the lingering throb. “It just happened.”

  “Don’t be discouraged. You’ll likely have more control if you intentionally activate your gift.” He reached to the side and picked up a glass of wine. “Aria asked me to give this to you.”

  Angie thanked him for the beverage then raised it to her lips. The wine was sweet and spicy, the warmth welcome. “Jillian is in the notebook. Nazerel was looking at her bio.”

  “Jillian is the blonde you were going to run to when you decided to ditch me?”

  His phrasing made her smile. “We need to let Lor know she needs protection.”

  Blayne stood and helped her to her feet. “Are you all right now? I can send a message through one of the servants if you don’t want me to leave.”

  “Go on.” She waved him toward the door. “I’m fine.”

  “At least come inside. You’re too exposed out here.”

  “Exposed to what? No one knows I’m here.”

  “I’d still feel better if you went inside.”

  Not in the mood to argue, she followed him into the suite’s common room. “I’m going to go take a bath.” Needing to regain some measure of control, she added, “You’re welcome to join me when you return.”

  She expected a smile or chuckle. Instead his gaze turned hot and hungry. “I won’t be long,” he promised and then left the suite.

  Chapter Five

  Drakkin sent a telepathic message to Lor, warning him of Nazerel’s interest in Jillian. “Was there anything else he needs to know?” The humor in his tone was unmistakable. He lounged in one of the high-backed chairs in the massive library, looking every bit the lord of the manor.

  “No, sir. That was all.” Blayne hadn’t felt this awkward since the day of his Choosing when the Mystics assessed his worth and declared him worthy of training. Still, Drakkin was a living legend, and Angie had Blayne tied in knot
s.

  “Are you avoiding her?” With characteristic directness, Drakkin cut to the heart of the matter.

  “I don’t trust myself with her.” Blayne ambled farther into the room and sat in a chair facing his host.

  “You want her.”

  It wasn’t a question, but Blayne added, “Badly.”

  “Is she indifferent to your desire or too willing for your peace of mind?”

  “I’ve been entrusted with her protection and her training. I can’t indulge my desires, even if they are reciprocated.”

  “Generally I would agree with you, but time is of the essence in this case. Her gift can be used to locate Nazerel and perhaps the other Shadow Assassins, but first she must learn how to control her abilities.”

  “I understand that.”

  “She resists any hint of force because of an abusive past. Your only hope of creating a link interactive enough for accelerated learning is a full-body joining.” Drakkin paused as if to give Blayne a moment to absorb the implications of the strategy. “If she’s willing to have sex with you, it might be your best option.”

  “That’s the problem. I don’t want to have sex with her. I want to join with her, claim her body, soul, and spirit.”

  A wry smile curved Drakkin’s lips. “That is a complication. I convinced myself I’d keep things casual with Aria and I still claimed her as soon as our bodies joined. If Angie is your mate, you must tread carefully, but avoiding her will only postpone the inevitable.”

  “I know.” He raked his hair with his fingers as his mind raced on ahead.

  “Angie is unusually comfortable with her sexuality, especially for a human. Don’t be afraid to access that side of her personality. As long as you’re honest with why you’re touching her, she will likely cooperate.”

  “How do I remain honest about what I want from her without terrifying her? She uses sex as a shield, a way of keeping herself from feeling legitimate emotions.”

  “The fact that you understand that distinction is more of an advantage than you realize. She needs to face those demons. They’ve tormented her long enough. She’ll never move beyond the pain until she does.”