Happily Ever Alpha

by Adriana Hunter

  “Maybe we should just pack up and head back,” he finally said, a stress headache pounding his temples. “We have given the humans plenty of time.”

  “The sun will not set for some hours yet, Kellan,” Charles pointed out. “We are in no hurry.”

  Kellan opened his mouth to argue, but the sound of footsteps had him spinning around—someone was approaching very quickly. A familiar scent came to him on the wind—Albert, one of his scouts.

  The scout in question burst through the brush and stopped straight in front of Kellan. “Sir,” he said, lowering his head respectively to acknowledge both Kellan, Charles, and the other council members, “the humans are coming. They have a large force, are heavily armed, and moving at a very quick speed.”

  “How long do we have?” Kellan asked as his men straightened, their hands going to their weapons.

  “Ten, maybe fifteen minutes,” Albert said. “And they look like they are out for blood.”

  Charles and Kellan exchanged grim looks. “I was afraid this would happen,” Charles said, drawing his sword. “It seems that human nature is unyielding. Men, prepare yourselves. We are about to do battle.”

  It wasn’t long before the humans stepped into the large clearing. There was easily two hundred men—some armed with farming tools, others with swords and knives. The man who led them was a tall, strapping fellow with shaggy blond hair and bright blue eyes that flashed with challenge. His mouth twisted into a half-smirk, half-sneer as he scanned Kellan and his men.

  “No crossbow today?” Kellan taunted, recognizing the man’s scent—this was the man whose leg he had bitten.

  “No teeth and fur today?” the man countered.

  Charles held up a hand before Kellan could respond. “It does not appear to matter to you what guise we wear—you see us as beasts regardless. We come before you like this to show that there is more to us than fur and fangs, that we think and feel with the same intensity that you do.”

  The man’s mouth firmed. “You are demons, and we do not negotiate with demons. We have tried to drive you out time and time again, and instead of leaving you came to my farm and slaughtered my herd. I cannot forgive or forget such a thing.” His eyes swept the shifters once more. “Thankfully I don’t expect this to be a very long fight. We outnumber you two to one.”

  Charles drew his sword, and a loud ring of steel echoed off the trees. “You will find that what we lack in size, we make up in strength. Attack!”

  The shifters charged forward with a snarl, and the humans rushed to meet them with war cries of their own. Soon the forest air was filled with the sound of swords clashing and warriors screaming. Kellan soon forgot all about the lead in the pit of his stomach that told him he was betraying Clara as he was lost in the heat of battle—the humans seemed to be especially intent on him for some reason, possibly because he’d verbally attacked their leader. Kellan cut through them, staining his sword with their blood, but it was quite an effort—the humans were more skilled than he would have thought.

  By the time he’d felled his eighth enemy he had numerous cuts and lacerations. Groaning, he wiped the sweat off his face, then kicked the dead body out of his way. He heard a battle cry behind him, and turned just in time to block a downswing from the blond-haired man.

  “It’s time you paid for that flesh wound!” he said, swinging again. Kellan snarled and leaped forward, striking with his own weapon, but the man blocked and countered skillfully. They parried and thrust, blocked and countered, slashed and stuck, but neither seemed to be able to get a hit in.

  “You are very good,” Kellan spat as they circled each other, “for a human.”

  “And you’re not bad for a beast,” the man responded. “But this is no game. Your time is up, demon.”

  “NO!!!” Clara shrieked, throwing herself between them just as the man thrust his sword. Kellan watched in horror as the blade tore through her shoulder, as blood bloomed across the fabric of her blue dress.

  “Clara!” Kellan roared, grabbing her as she screamed in pain. The entire clearing fell silent, both sides lowering their weapons as their heads jerked around toward the familiar voice. The man wrenched his sword back, tearing another scream from her, and stumbled back, a look of horror on his face.

  “Clara? Oh God!” He reached forward, and then flinched as Kellan let out a threatening growl.

  “It’s… it’s okay, Kellan,” Clara said through clenched teeth. “Don’t…Lucas is a friend.”

  “Friend? He just stabbed you with his sword!”

  “I… I can’t let you fight.” Clara struggled to lift her head up so she could look at Lucas. “Lucas… these people…they aren’t the creatures you seek. They’re just like us. Kellan… he is my soul mate. And you… you are one of the closest friends I have ever had. I don’t… I don’t know what I would do if you two killed each other. P-please…”

  Her body started to shake violently, and Kellan lowered her to the ground. He ripped away a piece of her dress so he could get a look at her shoulder, and his heart clenched at the bloody mess of a wound, stark against the paleness of her skin.

  “It looks like he missed your heart and lungs,” Kellan murmured as Lucas and Charles commanded their men to stand down. He pulled off his tunic and started tearing it into strips to use for a bandage. “Why did you do such a foolish thing?” He breathed in deeply through his nose and tried to steady his shaking hands as he wrapped the bandage around her, but a bone-chilling fear had begun to settle into his nerves. “You could have been killed!”

  Clara only smiled. “I’m sorry. I… came to warn you… they were coming, but I arrived too late.” Her voice grew faint, and her eyes fluttered shut. “Kellan… I’m so very… tired…”

  “Hang in there,” Kellan said urgently. “Clara, you’ve got to hang in there!” Her features went lax, and his heart pounded—she’d lost too much blood.

  “CLARA!”

  * * *

  When Clara woke, her shoulder was on fire and her throat felt like a barren wasteland. Her eyes were heavy, but she forced them open to find herself staring at the ceiling of Kellan’s room. What was she doing here? The last thing she remembered was rushing to warn Kellan…

  Kellan. Fear lanced through her as she remembered Lucas thrusting his sword forward—a killing blow. She struggled to sit up, but her shoulder screamed with pain. She opened her mouth to cry out, but her throat was so dry all she managed was a croak.

  “Take it easy.” Kellan was suddenly at her side, easing her gently back onto the bed. He helped seat her up against the pillows, then pressed a glass to her lips. “Here, drink some of this.”

  Clara opened her mouth and allowed the cool water to saturate her parched mouth, drinking greedily. Kellan refilled the glass again before she finally leaned her head back against the pillows, sated.

  “It’s nice to see you’re back amongst the living again,” Kellan told her, sitting back in his chair. He held onto her hand with both of his, as though he were afraid she would float away if he let go. She squeezed his hand reassuringly. “How are you feeling?”

  “My shoulder aches,” Clara replied. “What happened to me?”

  “You threw yourself in front of a blade meant for me,” Kellan said, pulling some dark brown leaves from a drawstring pouch and handing them to her. “Here, chew on these. They will help dull the pain.”

  Clara pushed the leaves into her mouth and bit down—a bitter juice burst from the leaves, and she scrunched up her face in distaste. Kellan laughed.

  “I never liked those much either, but believe me when I say they are worth the pain. I should tell the doctor that you are awake.”

  Clara blinked. “Doctor? I didn’t know you had a doctor.”

  “We don’t,” Kellan admitted. “Your… friend, Lucas, sent the doctor who was caring for your aunt.”

  “Lucas is here?” Clara’s head spun, and she closed her eyes. “How long have I been out?”

  “Only a day and a half,�
� Kellan assured her. “Did you really mean it back there, when you told… that man… that I was your soul mate?”

  Clara couldn’t help but smile at the mixture of anxiousness and hope in his voice.

  “Yes…I did.” Clara swallowed the lump that rose in her throat at the thought of losing Kellan. She reached out, squeezing his hand tightly. “Kellan?”

  “Yes?” His eyes locked onto her face, unwilling to let go. Wanting…needing to hear the words on her lips.

  “I love you.”

  He gave her a blinding grin, and leaned over to kiss her softly. “I feel like I’ve been waiting forever to hear those words. I love you too, Clara.”

  Clara opened her mouth to say something else, but her vision swam, and she had to close her eyes again. “Why can’t I focus?”

  “It’s a side-effect of the leaves—they cause drowsiness.” Kellan stroked her hair gently. “Get some sleep, Clara. I’ll answer more of your questions when you’re feeling better.”

  Clara wanted to curse him, but she was already asleep before he’d finished the words.

  * * *

  The next few days passed quickly, with regular visits from the doctor as well as several of the village women, including Leah. She didn’t get to see them for very long lengths of time before Kellan would shoo them away, like the protector that he was, claiming that she needed her rest. If Clara hadn’t been so sick of sitting in bed, she would have thought it was amusing. As it was, she wanted to strangle him.

  One thing about getting lots of visitors and being confined to the bed was that she was able to glean a lot of information. Apparently Lucas had called off the attack completely, and had willingly agreed to come in and negotiate a peace treaty between the humans and the wolves. She’d asked several times if she could see him, but Kellan refused to let him anywhere near her—apparently he wasn’t ready to forgive Lucas for running her through with a sword, even if it had been an accident.

  There was also some contention between the wolves as to whether or not Lucas should be executed for his crimes against the Hunters, but Charles had convinced them it would be in their best interests to go with the treaty. Clara could only imagine how the wolves must have felt at having to swallow their anguish and let him live, but at the same time she knew that Lucas had been misguided, not evil. Charles was a wise man—he knew that by killing Lucas it would only anger the humans and cause more bloodshed. Keeping him alive was the best way to ensure peace between the two races.

  Even so, Lucas and the doctor had both been blindfolded when they’d been taken to the village. And while the doctor was free to come and go as he pleased, Clara was told that Lucas needed to have a guard around him full-time—both for his protection and the clan’s.

  On the third day, Clara threw back the covers and yelled for Kellan to come. He skidded into the room, a comically alarmed expression on his face as he looked wildly around the room.

  “What? What is it? Are you hurt? Is something wrong?”

  “Not at all,” Clara quipped as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I’m just tired of languishing in this bed. I’ve been breathing the same air for days. I need a bath and some sunshine.”

  Kellan hesitated. “The doctor hasn’t said—”

  Clara grinned at him, yanking down her shoulder. The wound was completely gone, no trace of it left. “The doctor isn’t used to dealing with patients who have shifter blood in them. I’ve humored him long enough. I need out, now.”

  Kellan finally relented with a helpless grin and a light chuckle. “As you wish. I’ll be right back.”

  Ten minutes later there was a large, wooden tub filled with steaming water, waiting for her. “You’re awfully demanding,” he teased as he helped her up from the bed.

  He released her, and she hesitated, looking at the tub. “Is something wrong?”

  She looked away. “My shoulder is still a bit stiff. I… I think I’m going to need some help.”

  “Oh. Well, I think I can manage that.”

  Clara shivered as Kellan moved behind her, and then helped pull her nightgown over her head. She wore nothing beneath it except the bandages on her shoulder, so she felt his fingers skim her skin as he undressed her, and heard his sharp, in drawn breath. Her heart wasn’t quite steady as his fingers trailed down her back.

  When he didn’t say anything, she lowered herself into the tub unsteadily, then picked up the bar of soap and lathered her body. The water felt absolutely heavenly, the heat soaking into her muscles and releasing the tension in them. She would have been able to relax completely if she weren’t hyperaware that Kellan was still in the room, and that his eyes were still very much on her.

  She leaned forward, exposing her back, and he immediately took the soap and cloth from her before kneeling next to the tub. His hands were warm and strong as he cleaned her gently, but she could feel the slight tremble in his fingers, and knew he was holding onto his control by a thread. Her own breathing was unsteady, and she gripped the edge of the tub tightly.

  “These past few days… have been very difficult,” Kellan murmured, replacing his hands with his lips. “I was scared out of my mind when the doctor was stitching up your wound, talking about infection and fevers. I’d forgotten humans were so fragile.”

  “I…” It was hard for her to think when he was trailing light kisses across the back of her neck. “I’m sorry to have frightened you so. But just so you are aware, I would have done it again in a heartbeat.” She straightened as his lips moved up to her neck, and shivered as she turned to face him. “I really do love you so, Kellan.”

  “I know you do. I know when you’re lying, remember?” He chuckled, a deep rumble, bending his head again, kissing his way down to her chin.

  His lips met hers gently, searching, seeking, and she welcomed him without question, without reservation. There were no words needed between them—the time had come, and despite all they’d been through—or perhaps because of it—they both knew they were ready.

  He lifted her carefully from the tub, carried her to the bed, and then stripped off his clothes before joining her. Clara sighed with pleasure at the feeling of his warm, hard body pressed against hers—he was being very careful not to put all his weight on her, and yet still allowing her to feel him. She kissed him again, long and slow, and he used his fingers to tease her body into readiness, to forget about anything but him, and the pleasure that awaited.

  “So beautiful” he growled, kissing his way down to one rose-colored nipple, circling it with his tongue, feeling it grow hard at his touch.

  Clara shuddered, arching her back. Kellan moved to the other breast, kissing a soft line to that nipple, flicking it carefully with his hot, wet tongue, pulling it fully into his mouth. His fingers kneaded her thighs, barely skimming over her warmth as he continued to caress her with his tongue ,the softness of her skin brushing against his lips and cheek.

  “Please, Kellan,” she gasped, having peaked twice already beneath his skillful fingers. “I want to feel you…inside of me.”

  He nuzzled her neck, then nipped gently. “Are you sure?” His voice was rough.

  “Yes.”

  As they joined for the first time, Clara felt as though her mind was opening up to something completely new. Kellan seemed to invade all her senses, so that she saw nothing else but him. He became larger than life, filling her entire field of vision, and it was as if the rest of the world had fallen away. She saw him running through sunlit fields with her; holding her hand tightly as she went through childbirth; then swinging a child through the air that had his green eyes and her long, blond hair. Her heart swelled with the sheer enormity of it all; of her love for him and the endless possibilities of their future together.

  There was something about Clara, a feeling that calmed him even as she excited him more than any woman ever had. No woman had ever made him feel so much, so soon. On some level…hell, on many levels, this unnerved him.

  But he wanted more and he wan
ted it now; his body was taking the lead, impatient to move this forward. She looked up at him, her eyes going wide for just a moment, before they darkened, mirroring his desire.

  He kissed her hard, the gentleness gone, claiming her lips, his tongue plundering her accepting mouth. She met him fully, her kiss as insistent as his, her tongue thrust into his mouth.

  Her hands came up to his chest, her arms wrapping around his neck, fingers winding through his hair. He wanted to touch every part of her, to crush her against his body, feel the soft fullness of her breasts against his chest, his cock against her stomach, her ass in his hands.

  His lips found her breasts again, the longing still there, but his desire to take her stronger now. Moving over her, he settled between her legs. She wrapped them around his waist, pulling him down to her. Her eyes were locked with his; he could read the passion and arousal in those green depths.

  From the look of wonder passing across Kellan’s face, she could tell that he was going through a similar experience, and she realized that it must be the bond completing—their souls and hearts binding together so that they were one.

  He watched her eyes widen, her lips part as she exhaled, as he thrust himself fully into her. For the moment this was enough, holding her, looking down at her, sheathed in her body.

  But the ache he felt, the desire for more was stronger. Kellan pulled back before thrusting hard once again, feeling her body respond to his, her hips rising to meet him, pushing back, accepting and then asking for more.

  It wasn’t long before they were locked in a primal dance. Kellan was surprised by her sudden aggression; her hands were everywhere, raking over his back, clutching his hips, her lips seeking his mouth, desperate for more.

  Pulling away, he held himself above her, bracing himself on his knees, pushing her legs further apart. He wanted to watch her face, watch himself as he slid into her, to see how much pleasure he could give her, how much love he could show her.