Alphas for the Holidays

by Mandy M. Roth

  She looked at him through the fogged glass, wide-eyed and innocent. She wouldn’t stay innocent long around him—he’d make sure of that.

  “Hi daddy,” she called, sounding unsure of herself. The lilting pitch of her voice rubbed him in all the right ways. “Don’t be mad. It’s for the best!”

  Killian clicked the speaker off before she could hear her father’s tirade. “Your move, Cyril. I hope you’ll behave yourself through the holidays. I know I will.”

  “Killian. Don’t you hang up on me. God dammit! Let me talk to Alyssia—”

  He clicked the phone off and set it to nighttime mode so they wouldn’t be disturbed. Oddly, he hadn’t had enough of her body, and smelling her skin heating up under the water and her look of surprise enflamed his cock once more. “Mind if I join you?” he asked, stepping in before she could object.

  Chapter 3

  Alyssia couldn’t retreat from Killian in the shower, surrounded by glass on three sides. He took up the door, closing it quickly behind him and grabbed a scrubby to fill with soap. The natural stone wall held shower heads at various heights and intensities. It’d taken her several moments to figure out how to get the water on and the temperature adjusted. This was obviously a steam shower meant for more than one person given its size, but his larger than life presence made the space shrink around them.

  She hadn’t expected to feel this overwhelmed around him. Sure she’d heard he was a pain in the ass, that his father and grandfather were the next thing to the devil. That Killian played the field and had his choice of beautiful women--shifter, human, and anything else walking the earth. She’d never wanted to admit that she needed her carnal itch scratched, and he’d done a damned fine job of scratching it. She wasn’t above indulging her coyote side with animalistic behavior. Her pussy was sore though. She’d had enough for one night.

  His dark eyes glittered from the recessed lighting above. White suds coursed in rivulets down his pectorals and belly. He rubbed his scrubby over his hips and thighs, seeming to draw attention to his cock. She quickly looked back up to his face to see that infuriatingly sexy smile.

  She sank back on the stone bench at the back wall, feeling a jet hit her in the shoulder. “Oh no. Not again. Haven’t you had enough? How about some conversation?”

  He hung the scrubby on a hook and washed the suds off his body. His black hair clung to his forehead and cheeks, making him seem softer than before. The spice of his soap hung in the air, intoxicating her with the smell and the look in his eyes. He grabbed her hand, hauling her up to her feet and clutching her against his body. “What’s there to talk about? The heart wants what it wants.”

  Alyssia chuckled nervously. “It’s not your heart I’m worried about. I don’t want--” He nuzzled her ear, nipping the lobe with his teeth. “Uh…I mean. Holy shit.” She was panting again as he sucked and bit a spot on her neck. She knew from the suction he was leaving a mark on her. “I don’t want to get stuck again.”

  He broke from her neck, scoring her collarbone with his teeth. “Naw. I don’ have to go so deep now, beb. Now you got no reason to resist.”

  Killian hooked a hand under her knee and lifted her. She awkwardly stood on one leg, clutching his arms for support as his cockhead nudged her nether lips. “What did my father say?” she said, scrambling for some kind of distraction. The mention of her father seemed to provoke the opposite response than she wanted.

  He thrust his cock into her, growling in his chest. “Don’t mention him again. It gives me much pleasure to despoil his daughter with my wolf seed.”

  She jolted at the penetration, gasping loud and digging her fingers into his biceps. “Oh hell. Ah. So I’m…a…tool for revenge?”

  “Oui,” he murmured, thrusting just to where the bulge at his shaft started. He had enough length he didn’t have to go so deep, and it was still a pleasure to them both. “You don’ mind, do you?”

  The coils of pleasure tightened low in her belly. “No. I hate that asshole most of the time.”

  He laughed and continued his rhythm until they were both spent and drained from blissful pleasure. “That’s good to know we got somethin’ we agree on.”

  Cyril stared at the black glass screen of his phone, sitting on the edge of his bed. He’d been about to go to sleep, but that son of a bitch had ruined his relaxed state.

  Etienne leaned on the doorway, not saying a word—smart man. Slowly, the pounding in Cyril’s temples dulled to a low roar. He hadn’t trusted himself to speak before now, he’d been so enraged.

  “They’ve got Alyssia,” he finally said, taking a deep breath. “She went out on her own. Behind my back.”

  “She’s a big girl.” Etienne shrugged. “I don’t think they’d be foolish enough to harm her. They wanted a truce. Truces don’t come with bloodshed.”

  Cyril snarled and stood, pacing the room. He stopped to bark at his oldest, “That’s not the point. That dog is marking her for his own. She can’t come back home. She’s tainted. Probably breeding a bastard coyowolf in her womb right now. It makes me sick to my stomach.”

  Etienne’s faced reddened, but he nodded. He held up his hands in surrender and a shrug. “Maybe this is a good thing. We’ll bind the clans by blood and end the wars. It’s an old feud, father. Your father’s father began it. Don’t you want to put it to rest before you die and have some peace?”

  Cyril grimaced. “I have no intention on dying any time soon, boy.”

  “Okay. Then what do you want to do? She brokered a peace on her own, shouldn’t we respect her sacrifice?” Etienne said.

  Cyril snorted. “Peace.” The idea of that red wolf fucking his daughter enraged him all over again. He scrubbed a hand through his short white hair, seeking an answer to the insult. He stopped pacing and looked at Etienne. “Sauvage has a sister, doesn’t he?”

  Etienne straightened off the doorframe and crossed his arms back over his chest. He knew where this was going. “I think so.”

  Cyril folded his left arm across his chest to support his right elbow. He tapped his chin with his forefinger. “Go tomorrow with your brothers and find her. She’s a woman. She’s bound to be out doing woman things.”

  Etienne flushed again. “I hardly see how this will solve anything.”

  “It won’t. Tit for tat. They took my daughter; we’ll take his sister. When he releases Alyssia, we’ll send his sister back.”

  “You’re just embroiling us deeper into this war between the packs.”

  “Do I look like I fucking care? Do as I say and don’t argue with me, boy. If you aren’t willing to go, I’m sure Grayson and Bastien are ready to move up the ranks.”

  Etienne’s jaw hardened. “As you wish. We’ll sniff around and see if we can find her.”

  Cyril nodded. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

  Bacon grease, coffee, and pancake batter drifted through the air and crooked an invisible finger under Killian’s nose, luring him from slumber. He sat up in the bed, yawning and stretching. Alyssia was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she’d had enough and returned home? He visited the bathroom and performed his morning ritual of relieving himself, washing his face, and brushing his teeth, then slipped on fresh clothes before heading downstairs where the delicious smells concentrated in the kitchen and warred with the piney, spruce Christmas tree for dominance. The food won out in his mind.

  Alyssia had made herself at home in the barely used kitchen. Plates of food stacked with bacon, toast, scrambled eggs, and pancakes—dear god above—pancakes.

  “I love this range,” she said with a squeal. “Takes a little getting used to though. Is it weird I like being just a little domestic?”

  “I had this crazed thought Camila was gonna burn the house down. Shoulda known if I didn’t smell smoke it weren’t her doin’ the cookin. You know the way to a man’s heart, beb,” Killian murmured, coming behind Alyssia to rub sensuously against her backside. He liked seeing her in one of his black t-shirts. It made possessive feelings ro
ll around his insides. He shouldn’t admit that aloud since it could go to her head.

  She flipped the last pancake off onto a plate. “Through his sternum?” She grinned. “And his belly.”

  Killian snagged a slice of bacon and shoved the whole piece into his mouth. He practically melted through the floor. The eggs were light and fluffy too. The pancakes golden. He wanted to bow and kiss her feet, worship her with kisses on every square inch of her body. He hadn’t had home cooking in—hell, he couldn’t remember. None of the guys were worth a shit at it either. Would it taint him in her eyes if he acted like an excited pup?

  She gave him a green-eyed glare. “Save some for everyone else.”

  He grinned and piled his plate high. “If they sleepin’ through this, they don’t deserve to eat.”

  Killian avoided her playful swat and went to the entryway to call the others. “Antony! Camila! Alessandro and Baptiste! If you ain’t dead come eat!”

  Thumps and thuds sounded upstairs followed by muffled curses and then heavy footsteps as they bounded down the stairs. All the men flooded the kitchen, but Camila didn’t show. “Where’s Camila?”

  Antony shrugged. “She said she wanted to go shopping and left before dawn for some early bird sale. Besides, you know she don’t eat in the mornings. It makes her sick.”

  “More for us!” Alessandro attempted to elbow past his cousin and a fight ensued. They grappled and grunted while Baptiste slipped ahead.

  Alyssia giggled in the kitchen. Killian sighed and headed for the table with his plate. He patted the spot beside him, indicating her to sit down. She looked a little uneasy to be underdressed, but no one noticed—their attention was on the food.

  “Mon ami, you got to keep this one!” Antony said around a mouthful of steaming eggs.

  “Oui, you don’t and I gonna take her away from you,” Baptiste said with a grin and a wink in her direction.

  Her round cheeks reddened in a blush, making her eyes look greener. She patted her cheeks, trying to hide her embarrassment.

  “You treat your family this good?” Killian asked. “That why he didn’ want to lose you?”

  Alyssia shrugged. “They expect me to be there. He does. Father. I’m just like a possession or a maid. A stationary part of the house that has no say in any goings on. I’m pretty sick of being taken advantage of. It just took me twenty-five years to get a backbone and do something for myself.”

  “Hey, don’ boude. We happy you here, chère,” Killian said, grabbing her hand to give it a kiss. She smiled and lowered her lids, charming him with her shyness and flushed red cheeks. This was easy. This was comfortable. If this was the kind of thing she did regularly, he was ready to be spoiled. He was surprised how quickly she fell into the normal rhythm of his household—like she was meant to be here. He’d heard of the northern red wolves mating with coyotes and producing a new breed of shifter. Now he understood the attraction. He’d never experienced a desire to take and possess anyone with such strength. Her pheromones made him feel drunk and light-headed with need, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to let her return home after the holidays. Of course, he had to do more than fuck her to know for sure.

  “I’m not pouting. I’m just glad I’ve got a chance to teach him a little lesson.”

  The men laughed uproariously and pounded the table with their fists.

  “Keeper,” Antony said. “For sure.”

  They finished the breakfast and the men readied for work. They had two days before Christmas Eve and a burl wood needing cut and transport for special delivery. Alessandro had been building a road back to the rare find since Monday while Antony and Baptiste ran chainsaws. They just had the gravy job of cutting down the pine burl and digging the base of the tree out. He was eager to see if it was solid all the way through or if their find had rotten in the core, but they needed the backhoe to pull it from the roots in the ground. He hadn’t wanted to take a chance on losing equipment in the soft ground, and those damn coyotes had a knack for interrupting their work flow at the worst time.

  Alessandro stopped in the hallway, shrugging a jacket on. “You coming in today or are you going to be occupied?” He winked at Killian.

  Alyssia had scurried upstairs to get her laundry from the dryer. Killian considered his options. “Road’s done, right?”

  Alessandro nodded. “I’m driving the backhoe down today. I can pull the pine if you can’t be there. Baptiste and Antony are going to cut and buck it.”

  Killian crossed his arms over his chest. “Naw. I gonna be there for the reveal. Gimme bout an hour and I’ll head out.”

  “All right, boss. See you there.”

  His brother and Baptiste came down, nodding as they headed out in Antony’s pickup with Alessandro. An hour would give him enough time with Alyssia.

  She came down the stairs dressed in the attire from the night before, but the scent of fresh laundry proceeded her natural aroma that he found so delectable.

  “What’s with all these clothes?” he said, half-growling as he caught her around her waist.

  “It’s cold out,” she said, planting her hands on his chest and looking at him with her breath catching in her throat.

  He admitted he liked the effect he had on her—it made him feel like a rock star with the lust she had in her eyes—like she couldn’t get enough.

  “I thought we’d have a little run in our other skins this morning if you game. Lemme see if a coyote can outrun a wolf.”

  Her eyes twinkled with the tree lights. “All right. Or is this an excuse to see me naked?”

  “Both.” He smiled, standing back as she stripped her clothes off. He watched her pants and jacket go first. She hesitated at the shirt, but at his appreciative and encouraging nod, she got the courage to take everything off and stand before him in all her plump, curvy glory.

  “Damn, beb. You make me wanna eat you alive all over again.” He licked his lips and stepped forward.

  She put up a hand and wagged her finger. “Nuh uh. You said a run. Now are we shifting in here or outside?”

  Killian grinned. “It just so happens we got a door installed on the back.” He slipped his arm around her naked waist after she gathered up the pile of her clothes. Having his hand on her bare skin heightened his senses as he led her to the backdoor where she set her stuff on the table. His inner wolf nipped at his subconscious, demanding to be freed. The house was empty. A quickie against the back door would go unnoticed. Mostly.

  She giggled and snorted at the same time without the least bit of embarrassment. She covered her mouth and pointed with her free hand. “A doggy door? You can fit through that?”

  He feigned affront. “You be surprised what tight spaces I can fit into, chère. Besides, you got this many wolves in one space, sometimes you get locked out at night and this makes it easy. Don’ you got something the same back home?”

  She shrugged. “Daddy doesn’t let us get wild in the house. We’re only allowed during the full moon. He says structure keeps the pack strong.”

  Killian clicked his tongue. “Savages.”

  Alyssia crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not doing anything until I see your goodies too. It feels pretty damn awkward standing here naked by myself.”

  He grinned, shrugging out of his shirt and dropping his pants. He didn’t have to show off or flex to get her attention. She flicked her gaze over his golden skin, lingering on his abs a split second longer than the rest. “Now you go. I’ll give you a head start before I chase you.”

  She arched a brow. “This is a chase then?”

  He nodded. “You out run me and get back here, you win. I catch you, I get to do what I want to you.”

  “Sounds like I win either way.”

  “Oui.”

  Chapter 4

  They were standing naked in front of each other, waiting on the first to make the change.

  “Ladies first,” Killian said, making a broad gesture, keeping his gaze fixed on hers and making her breathless
with anticipation.

  Alyssia typically changed by herself outside under the full moon. Standing with someone of the opposite sex who clearly wanted her was a big difference. She wasn’t so sure she wanted to outrun him or race, but she figured this was some kind of test she needed to pass with him and the wolves, and better he alone than to make a fool of herself in front of his pack.

  That expectant gleam in his eyes melted her willpower. She struggled to maintain an air of pride and strength—even if it was only a façade. The shift from human to animal was the most vulnerable time to their kind. Transforming in front of him would be a show of trust. She was exposing her deepest part to him—a man not of her pack.

  She hadn’t run with anyone other than her pack, and her change of circumstance made her skin tingle with awareness. Alyssia turned her mind inward, summoning her sleeping beast who was unused to coming out without the powerful pull of the full moon. The coyote slept hard, resisting her summons. She concentrated, closing her eyes and ignoring Killian’s devastatingly handsome distraction to pull her animal to the forefront. Her senses expanded exponentially.

  Smell came first: the spruce Christmas tree; the lingering scent of bacon grease from the kitchen; beneath that fine traces of Killian’s brethren on the door; and then there was Killian—his pheromones made her almost drunk with longing. No wonder she couldn’t think straight around him.

  She kept her eyes closed as the transformation brought her to her knees and her skin prickled with the growth of bushy fur and lengthening muscles and tendons; bones shifting; claws and teeth sharpened; ears growing pointed and tall. The crackle of electricity hummed in her acute ears.

  It couldn’t have taken more than a minute, but she felt her human form flow like shifting clay on a potter’s wheel, molding her in a dizzying rush that quickened her blood and sent her senses reeling.