Her Alphas

by Gabrielle Holly

  “It is done,” Sergei said. “The pack just over the Canadian border has a consort available. He will be here by two this afternoon.”

  “Thank you,” Alex said.

  “This is the least I can do. The alpha is from a village near where I grew up. Many years ago, I was able to help him with a similar problem. He is happy to satisfy that debt.”

  Alex reached out and clasped Sergei’s shoulder. He was certain the big man knew the gesture was more than one of thanks. There was another pressing matter that had to be discussed.

  Sergei held his gaze for a moment then tilted back his massive head and stared at the ceiling. Fat tears rolled down his face. Alex and Jeremiah averted their eyes and shared another round while Sergei composed himself.

  Finally, Sergei cleared his throat then dried his face on his sleeve. “Alex,” he said quietly, “you have been a good and fair alpha. You spared my life when it was well within your rights to take it from me. I know that many did not agree with your decision, and I am grateful for it every day.”

  Alex drew in a breath and opened his mouth to speak, but Sergei held up his hand. “Please, Alex, let me finish. Though I was in no position to ask you for more when you’d already given to me so much, you granted me my…mate.”

  Sergei’s voice cracked when he said “mate” and he seemed to struggle to continue. “I know the law. What she has done cannot be forgiven, not even by the most generous alpha. I understand what must be done. But, Alex, please…”

  Wrapping his massive hand around Alex’s wrist, Sergei pleaded with his dark, deep-set eyes. “Please do not throw her to the pack to be ripped apart. Let me take care of this. I ask this mercy not for Jenny. I ask it for myself.”

  It took Alex a moment before he could trust his voice. Finally he nodded and patted Sergei’s corded forearm. “Granted. But it has to be done now. Once the pack gets wind of what she did, they’re going to be out for blood.”

  * * * * *

  Sergei stood beside the shaman outside the windowless metal storage shed and watched Alex fiddle with the padlock. He would rather have done this alone, but the law clearly stated that at least two witnesses were required. The pack master was already bending the rules by allowing Sergei to mete out Jenny’s punishment, rather than throw her to the pack to die slowly. He supposed he should be grateful.

  Even over Jenny’s wailing and pounding on the steel walls, the click of the key turning in the lock echoed in Sergei’s mind. Alex kept the curved shank looped through the door hasp as he turned and stared at Sergei. You know what has to be done?

  Sergei nodded. Yes, he knew what had to be done. He had been enforcing pack law long before Alex had come to Talbot. All he could hope for was the courage to act swiftly and minimize Jenny’s pain.

  Alex lifted the lock and yanked open the door. Jenny grew quiet. Sergei widened his stance, ready to snare her if she tried to flee. The three men stood staring into the open shed. Sergei had almost let down his guard when the naked little blonde burst from her corrugated-metal prison and launched herself into the big Russian’s arms.

  She wrapped her arms and legs around him and buried her face in his neck. “I’m so sorry, baby. I don’t know why I did it. I need help. I’ll do whatever you say. Is she okay? Will she live?”

  Her matted hair reeked of oil and sweat and her skin was streaked with blood and dirt. Sergei peeled her from his body and set her down on her feet in front of him. He winced when he looked down into her once-beautiful face. A raw and ragged wound gaped where her left eye had been.

  Jenny must have read his disgust and quickly covered the injury. “Is it bad? Am I ugly?” she whispered.

  Sergei’s heart broke at the despair in her voice. Yet somehow, it made his task easier. Someone as vain as she would rather die than go through life like that. This wound had been made with the sacred amulet and would never heal. For as long as she lived, it would be an ugly reminder of her crime.

  He brushed the snarled hair from her face then laid a hand on each side of her head. “No, little one. You will always be young and beautiful.”

  She smiled up at him and the dried blood—Gwen’s dried blood—that had caked at the corners of her mouth cracked and flaked. “Thank you, baby,” she said.

  Sergei bent, kissed her temple, then straightened again. “Always beautiful,” he muttered.

  Jenny was still smiling when he tightened his grip at her temples and ripped off her head with a mighty twist.

  * * * * *

  After the three wolves had left, Tommy Longtree remained at the head of the operating table, leaning over Gwen with his palms pressed to her temples. Her fever radiated through his hands, up his arms and throughout his body.

  Release the fire of sickness into me. Let me bear your burden that you will be healed. His chant was a language unto itself—influenced by more than a dozen North American Indian tribes.

  Tommy—and his ancestors—had traveled throughout the country for centuries. Compared to their animal kindred, the mountain lion shifters were more social creatures. Though the Cat People still preferred their solitude, they would often feel the pull of a group. This instinct was necessary to keep their gene pool varied and strong.

  For nearly four hundred years, Tommy had roamed the mountains and plains east of the Mississippi and—with the exception of Talbot—he’d never stayed in once place for more than a generation. He’d fathered countless cubs but had rarely stayed around long enough to see them mature.

  In every one of his “homes” Tommy had had to interact with the Moon People. Both groups were supernatural beings, but that was where the similarities ended. True shifters had roamed the earth since the dawn of time. The wolf-men were a much newer phenomenon. Werewolves could be made through a bite—or in Alex’s case, a potion and spell. Cat shifters could only be born through the union of two. Mating with Cat Women was his obligation. Fucking human females was his pleasure.

  Though a union with a mortal woman could not produce offspring, nothing under the sky turned him on more. He couldn’t be sure if it was their innocence or their humanity that captivated him, but the attraction was real—and undeniable. He was still young when ships began bringing new and exotic partners from around the world. Women with skin as dark as mahogany or hair the color of corn silk had shared his bed and he’d enjoyed sampling them all. And yet with each new encounter, he felt he was still searching.

  Over the past ninety-some years, Tommy had told himself he had remained in Talbot because it was still wild and unsettled and the hunting was good. But deep in his bones, he knew there was something more tying him to this cold corner of northern Minnesota. He was stuck in this place because he was waiting for his destiny. He was waiting for Gwen Chaney.

  Tommy stroked the sides of Gwen’s face. Release the fire of sickness into me. Let me bear your burden that you will be healed.

  He’d known from the first moment he laid eyes on her that she was meant to be his. Following the ominous dream, he’d stalked the new human consort as she unloaded the boxes from her Jeep on her first day in Talbot. He’d hidden in the shadows of the tree line outside the Chaney cabin and watched.

  Gwen was not like the Cat Women he was bound to by tradition. And she was not like the other human females he was drawn to by lust. Yes, she was beautiful, and he ached to touch her soft, lush body, but there was something more. Her aura glowed more brightly than any he’d ever seen. It flared in awe-inspiring waves of white and pale blue and he longed to bathe in its magic.

  But it was the scent of her that overwhelmed him. It was almost more than he could bear. It tugged at him with a force more powerful than gravity. When he’d attacked her dog, it had been less about his ominous dream and more about the protectiveness, want and unparalleled devotion that stirred within him.

  Release the fire of—

  Tommy couldn’t finish the verse. He leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers and breathed her in. The magic transported him. It was the metal
lic smell of the drying blood that clung to her hair that brought him back to the physical world.

  The brutality of Jenny’s attack charged into his mind. Even as he had rushed to stop it, he could see the sickening, cold black aura surrounding the blonde werewolf. The evil it communicated had been so terrifying, it had almost paralyzed Tommy. Only the dying flame of Gwen’s beautiful light had kept him going.

  He should have gutted Sergei’s psycho little mate when he’d had a chance. Even with the treaty between the two groups that protected one from the other, ending that little bitch’s life would not have been a violation.

  Alex and Sergei had arrived at the cave moments after Tommy had pulled Jenny off Gwen. The Russian had restrained his raging mate while Alex shifted back to human form and hurried to stop the gush of blood spurting from Gwen’s leg.

  The alpha had yanked the belt from Gwen’s jacket and tightened a tourniquet high on her thigh. It had taken all of Tommy’s concentration to shift back so he could assist. He had torn strips from her tattered jeans and pressed the fabric against her shredded calf.

  By the time the two leaders had gotten her back to Alex’s vet clinic, dark purple bruises had bloomed on Gwen’s pale skin. One side of her face was scraped raw and her body was slick with sweat as the bite-fever took hold.

  While Alex had gathered his instruments, Sergei had secured Jenny in a windowless metal storage shed behind the clinic. She had been howling and banging on the steel walls ever since and the noise threatened to break Tommy’s concentration as he chanted for Gwen’s recovery.

  Running his thumb over the scrapes on Gwen’s forehead, Tommy fought to keep his emotions in check. Anger about the attack mixed with his longing for her and sadness over what she would soon become.

  He supposed that once she was changed, his preoccupation with Gwen would fade. The feeling of loss was almost unbearable. It was tempered only by a glimmer of relief that this all-consuming obsession would soon end.

  * * * * *

  Gwen was woken up by a cold wet nose against her cheek. With eyes still closed, she reached out to stroke Jezebel’s head but stopped when crushing pain overwhelmed her. It seemed that every inch of her body hurt. The worst of it was the throbbing ache that ran the length of her right leg.

  Gwen moaned, twisting her head against the pillow, and Jez whined in response.

  I will stay with you. I will protect you. I love you, woman.

  Gwen’s eyes flew open and she stared into the dog’s big brown eyes. Jezebel, was that you?

  The golden retriever’s tail thumped against the nightstand. You’re awake! I love you!

  “I love you too, goofball,” Gwen muttered, and scratched behind the dog’s ear. Go find Alex.

  Jezebel padded out of the bedroom and Gwen stared up at the ceiling. She couldn’t remember how she’d gotten to the cabin, but she was certain why she was flat on her back, feeling like she’d been run over by a tank. Jenny had attacked her outside the sacred cave.

  And now I can hear my dog’s thoughts. The realization would have been funny if she weren’t in such agony.

  Lifting her right hand, Gwen studied the deep cuts on the palm. The memory of plunging the pointed amulet into Jenny’s eye rushed into her mind and her stomach lurched as she recalled the sickening sound it had made.

  The strike had slowed Jenny down, but it hadn’t been enough to stop her. If the mountain lion—if Tommy—hadn’t been there, Gwen would be feeling no pain now. She would be dead.

  Glancing at the glass of water on the nightstand, Gwen licked her parched lips. Her thirst temporarily took precedence over the pain and she struggled to pull herself up to a sitting position. White-hot agony exploded in her leg as she dragged her body up the mattress. She collapsed back against the headboard and caught her breath before reaching for the glass and gulping it dry.

  “What are you doing?” Alex stood in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Thirsty,” Gwen croaked.

  Gwen needs water. Alex’s voice was as clear in her mind as if he’d said the words aloud.

  Gwen wrinkled her brow. Alex, can you hear me?

  His expression didn’t change as he crossed the room and gingerly sat on the edge of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

  Awful.

  She waited for him to respond to the telepathic message. When he didn’t she sent the thought again, this time trying to attach her physical sensations to it.

  Alex raised his brow. “Well?”

  Concussion, she heard him think as he sat on down on the edge of the mattress.

  Alex reached down beside Gwen’s bed and retrieved his zippered exam kit. He fished inside and withdrew a penlight, passed the beam across Gwen’s eye line then clicked it off and put it back.

  “Do you know what day it is?” he asked.

  “Saturday.”

  “Can you remember what happened to you?”

  “I stepped out of the cave to get a cell signal and Jenny attacked me. I stabbed her in the eye with my amulet, but she just kept coming. Tommy finally jumped out of nowhere and pulled her off me.”

  Furrows formed along Alex’s forehead. “Yes. That’s exactly right.” And you finally got what you wanted.

  It wasn’t his thought that jolted her; it was the unmistakable disappointment and sense of failure behind it. She probed harder into his mind, but he didn’t seem to sense the violation.

  A series of Alex’s feelings, pictures and ideas unfolded. The most jarring was the image of Sergei Markov standing behind the vet clinic holding his mate’s severed head in his hands. Gwen could feel the disgust associated with Alex’s vision.

  His emotions and mental pictures flashed by in a quick jumble, but the message was clear. Gwen’s actions had disrupted the status quo, ruined his plans and jeopardized the long-term well-being of the pack. You probably did it on purpose.

  The silent accusation was crushing, but the next realization was worse. Gwen’s stomach knotted as she understood that Alex had done everything in his power to delay letting her drink the potion that would turn her—until he was ready. Now he felt cheated.

  Before Gwen could register another unspoken message from Alex, he rose. “I’ll be right back.” Alex passed Sergei as he came through the door carrying two bottles of water.

  Sergei seemed to have a hard time making eye contact with Gwen. She must hate me, he thought.

  “I don’t blame you, Sergei,” Gwen said.

  Sergei glanced up at her—assuming, it seemed—that her reassurance was in response to his body language, not telepathy. “Thank you, little friend.”

  “I’m sorry about Jen—”

  “Do not say her name,” Sergei interrupted. “It is not allowed. She has been expunged from our history and her name is never to be uttered again. It will be as if she never existed.”

  He cleared his throat, then held out the water bottles. “I have brought you something to drink.”

  Gwen looked at his massive hands and Alex’s vision of Jenny’s brutal death flashed in her mind. The bile rose in her throat. She accepted the bottles, quickly sucked down one, then started on the second. When she came up for air, Alex returned and passed her a large tablet. “For the pain,” he said.

  Gwen didn’t have to be telepathic to pick up on the disdain in his voice. Yours or mine, you selfish prick? she thought. Her mind was reeling. In an instant everything she thought she’d known about Alex seemed like a lie.

  Sergei was standing beside the bed and though she could no longer hear his thoughts, she could feel his genuine concern and platonic affection for her. She forced the pill down her throat, then set down the water and met Sergei’s gaze. Can you hear me?

  He gave no indication that he could, but another voice sounded clearly in her mind. I can hear you.

  She knew before she saw him standing in the doorway that it was the Cat King. His thick, jet-black hair fell over his broad shoulders like a silk curtain. She could see the perfectly bl
unt-cut ends on either side of his slim waist. Tommy smiled at her, showing his flawless white teeth framed by full, brown lips and she imagined what they would feel like pressed against her mouth.

  Given the pain she was in, the idea that she could be thinking about anyone that way—let alone a virtual stranger—shocked her. But, god, he is so fucking beautiful!

  He winked again and Gwen felt the hot blush creep across her face. She was going to have to learn to self-edit—at least around Tommy. The others didn’t seem to be able to tune in to her thoughts. At least not yet.

  How? she sent to him.

  Tommy shrugged. Gwen concentrated on hearing his next thought but was met with silence. She supposed the three men were shielding their thoughts from one another. Tommy nodded as if to confirm her suspicion.

  Alex pressed the back of his hand against Gwen’s forehead then looked over her shoulder. “The bite fever seems under control. Nice work, Tommy.”

  The Cat King nodded nonchalantly, but his feeling of pride broke through his cloaked thoughts. The pain killer had kicked in and Gwen couldn’t help but grin. She was getting a glimmer of the sway she held over Tommy Longtree and the idea thrilled her.

  Alex started to pull back the covers, then paused. “I’ve got to change the dressings on her thigh. Would you guys mind—”

  Licking it? Tommy thought and she knew he’d sent it directly to her.

  Gwen glanced up at him through heavy eyelids. I want you, she thought—knowing full well he’d be able to hear her, and suddenly feeling so blissed out she didn’t give a flying fuck.

  Then there was silence again. Gwen fought against sleep, grasping for a thread of Tommy’s thoughts, but her mind drifted on the edge of consciousness. The last thing she registered before slipping under was the look of sadness on his handsome face.

  Chapter Nine

  One Week Later

  On the seventh morning after the attack, Gwen woke before dawn feeling better than she could ever remember. Alex and the others had been out running all night—she’d heard them howling in the woods. They’d all sleep late and Gwen was glad for the break.