by Viola Rivard
RUNNING WITH ALPHAS: SEASONS
WINTER
VIOLA RIVARD
Copyright © 2018 by Viola Rivard
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
CONTENTS
Author’s Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
Destined for the Alpha
Seasons: Spring
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Running with Alphas: Seasons is a four-part mini-series that will run from January to October of 2018. While my Shifters of Appalachia books (Claimed, Bound, & Running) can be read in any order, Seasons is a direct sequel to Running with Alphas and is unlikely to be enjoyed if you haven’t first read Running with Alphas.
Seasons Release Dates
Winter: Jan 2018
Spring: April 2018
Summer: August 2018
Autumn: October 2018
Happy Reading,
Viola
CHAPTER 1
December, 2007
AS THEY PASSED through the long stretch of evergreen forest, Shadow began to fall behind. This far into winter, the dim sunlight scarcely touched the ground in the region, leaving heavy deposits of snow to trudge through. Even his father, with his long, powerful legs, was slowed by the snowdrifts.
After watching his pup struggle to paw himself free, Hale turned back a few paces and inclined his head, plucking Shadow from his self-made hole. Ever the rebel, Shadow squirmed in protest, but his father held him firmly, keeping his shaggy head high so that Shadow hung just above the top of the snow.
Shadow had been born Henry, a name that had been unanimously panned by her pack mates. Taylor had lost the battle for her son’s name. She lost almost every battle when it came to Shadow. He had been born prematurely, but unlike his twin sister Fawn, he’d been healthy, strong, and assertive. As an infant, he’d been the first to cry for feedings, finishing his breast and then demanding his sister’s once she’d nodded off on the nipple. Instead of sleeping through the night, he'd slept like a wolf, sleeping in two-hour intervals and then waking with boundless energy. Even before he had learned to shift, Taylor would sometimes wake in the night to find him out of his cot and into trouble. Once he had learned to shift, it'd been all over. She'd gone from having a precocious and unusually capable baby to an oversized, hyper-intelligent puppy. In the first year of his life, he'd escaped the cabin so many times that Alder and Hale had assigned two of their betas to be on permanent watch.
At six months, he’d made his first kill—a field mouse. After only a cursory investigation of his prey, he’d swallowed it whole and then went on to catch two more. Soon after, Alder had begun taking him on full hunts. That had been another loss, and Taylor had fought much harder for that than she had for his name. But in the end, it had been Shadow who had decided, by jumping through a window to join his fathers as they pursued a stag.
At six months, Shadow had been indistinguishable from a similarly aged wolf. Now, at a year and a half, he was already larger than the average full-grown wolf. This was not normal, even by shifter standards. Fawn was still small enough to be cradled in Taylor’s arms in either form, and her wolf form was plump with distinctly puppy-ish features, like her big, green eyes, tiny snout, and rounded pink nose. It had been nearly a year since Shadow had shed his puppy fat. Like his fathers, he was long, limber, and muscular. The features of his wolf form were sharp and defined, and in his eyes was a keen intellect. While Fawn was still toddling around and babbling in baby talk, Shadow had enviable posture and could speak in full sentences.
Her son was remarkable. He was also stubborn, fiercely independent, and at his core, a mama’s boy.
When he tired of Shadow’s struggling, Hale turned his head and deposited the pup onto his back. Taylor struggled to scoop him into her arms. It was like trying to hold onto an overgrown husky. Shadow’s fur was covered in clumps of snow, which somehow managed to creep into the crevices of Taylor’s layers of clothing. Though she was averse to wearing animal skins, it was too cold out to have such scruples. She wore a soft, well-tailored buckskin shirt beneath an outer layer of speckled doe hide. Unapologetically ugly, her coat was nothing but a bunch of brown and white rabbit skins that had been stitched together. She hated it, but it was too warm to get rid of.
Shadow delivered several licks to her face and then used his teeth to help reposition her hat, which had been knocked back by his assaulting tongue. His head then went for her chest, but she gently swatted him away. For all of his intellect, he was always forgetting that he couldn’t nurse in wolf form.
“Not with fangs,” she said, chomping at the air for emphasis.
Shadow whined and then nuzzled the side of her cheek to let her know he understood.
He cuddled for another moment and then slid off his father’s back, plopping down once more into the snow. The snowfall had lessened as they scaled the hill, and now the powder rose only a half foot off the ground, allowing Shadow to move more freely. He bounded in a circle around his father and then dashed over to hop alongside Glenn.
“Where does he get the energy?” she mused aloud.
She’d grown accustomed to talking to herself over the past few days. They’d been traveling for a week, and so far, her companions only took human form when they stopped to make camp. Even Glenn, who could usually be relied on to make casual conversation with her, had told her flat-out that it was too cold for him to be trudging along in human form. Taylor couldn’t argue. If she could turn into a wolf or a fox like Holly, there was no way she’d be slumming it in human form.
It was probably for the best that she couldn’t make conversation because she had very little to say that was positive. She took no pleasure in long trips through the wilderness, and the snow only made it worse. And between missing Christmas and missing Alder and Fawn, she was downright miserable.
Eight days ago, she and her mates had been at home, arguing over a Christmas tree, or more accurately, Hale’s Christmas tree. The evening before, she had tasked both Alder and Hale with finding her a tree to decorate for Christmas. She had never been a fan of the holiday but had always imagined she would go all out in celebrating it if she had kids. The year before, she had just started decorating when a massive snowstorm had swept through the valley, burying her cottage and leaving her stuck in the den for most of December.
This year had been on track to be the perfect Christmas. She had presents, decorations, and oodles of holiday cheer. She had even gotten Shadow to take human form and help her craft ornaments for the tree. That’s what they’d been doing when Alder had returned, carrying the perfect Christmas tree. It was just the right size and vibrantly colored, each needle on each branch intact. It even sported dainty pine cones.
She had not anticipated that Hale would also bring back a tree. In fact, when she’d asked them about getting her a tree, Hale had thought the idea of chopping down a tree to bring indoors was “moronic” and “a complete waste of my time.” So, when he had arrived just minutes after Alder, hauling a giant monstrosity of an old spruce that still had its dirt-clumped roots attached, she’d politely asked him to take it back and replant it. In the long-winded complaint that followed, Hale had inadvertently revealed that he’d spent the entire n
ight searching for a tree for her, and in the end, she had been guilted into wedging the tree into her tiny cabin, the top quarter of it bowed against the ceiling.
Taylor had been in the process of rearranging her home when the messenger had arrived. The message was from Sarah, the mate of Cain, Alder and Hale’s older brother. It had said only that they were needed urgently and had mentioned Taylor by name, saying that it was imperative that she come. The message had been delivered by an enterprising hawk shifter who resided near to Cain’s pack, but he was not a member and he knew nothing more regarding the urgent matter.
It was decided that Hale, Taylor, and Shadow would go. Both of her mates were patently against Shadow going, but Taylor had insisted on the basis that he was still nursing. This had failed to persuade either of them, because both of them, Hale more vocally than his brother, believed that Shadow was well past the age of being weaned. Desperate to keep at least one of her pups by her side, Taylor had used the last weapon in her arsenal—she’d cried.
Over the past couple of years, she had learned that Hale was virtually immune to her tears, except during situations where he thought she might be physically hurt or in pain. Alder, on the other hand, tended to remain calm when she was hurt but responded in earnest when it seemed she might be in emotional turmoil. As predicted, Hale had tapped his foot impatiently and told her to quit her antics, but at the last minute, Alder had reluctantly taken her side.
They’d set out that night, accompanied by Glenn, Holly, and Karin. Karin was a Whiteriver transplant. She had met Alder and Hale while hunting in the valley, in passing at first, and then gradually they’d begun hunting together. Years of having to rough it out in the barren Whiteriver territories had made her resourceful and dogged, and soon after joining Halcyon she’d quickly become an integral and valued member of the pack. Taylor liked her well enough, and she was rarely jealous about all the time Karin spent hunting with Alder and Hale, though this was mainly because in her human form, Karin was a bit of an eyesore. Had she been even remotely attractive, Taylor probably would have been seething inside every time one of her mates dashed off to chase after one of her leads.
A short bark from Hale signaled for the group to come to a stop. Even Shadow skidded to a halt, careening into Glenn’s hindquarters. Taylor surveyed the area, looking for why they might have stopped. The area looked much the same as the other places they’d traveled through that day. The mountain slope was thick with evergreens, their branches laden with deposits of snow. The air was still and quiet.
Hale sat, causing Taylor to slide down his back. She muttered a complaint but was immediately distracted by Shadow, who came running up to her, barking excitedly. As she scratched her pup’s head, she watched her mate trot in the direction of a rocky outcropping. Squinting her eyes, she noticed a tall, narrow slit in the bedrock. A cave.
Hale just managed to squeeze through the entrance, and Shadow dashed off to follow his father. Taylor wasn’t keen on having her son exploring an unfamiliar cavern, but she trusted Hale to keep him safe.
After a few minutes of waiting, Glenn came to her side. He had shifted from his shaggy wolf form and stood in the form of a tall young man, swathed in a deerskin pelt.
When Taylor had first met Glenn, he had been a gangly, awkward juvenile. Over the past two years, he had matured considerably. Almost a foot taller than her, he stood only slightly shorter than Hale. His once-patchy beard had filled in to cover his handsome jawline, and his brown eyes no longer projected hesitance and uncertainty. In most matters, he seemed confident and self-assured.
“Do you think he wants to stop here?” Taylor asked. “Isn’t Cain’s pack only a few more hours out? I thought we were just going to push through.”
Glenn shrugged. “We’ll probably only stop for a couple of hours. Everyone’s pretty worn out from traveling uphill.” He gave her a sly, sideways look. “Also, he wants to sleep with you.”
Taylor suppressed a smile. It was not long ago that the mention of sex would have had Glenn blushing. She still remembered her first summer in the valley when he’d come to wake her and had accidentally gotten an eyeful of one of her breasts. While it was not uncommon for shifters to be naked around one another, the males got weird when it came to seeing a naked human female.
“Probably,” Taylor said, feigning exasperation.
She wasn’t the least bit annoyed though she did feel a little guilty. After all, the letter had said that the matter was urgent. Of course, if everyone was tired, and they had to stop anyway, would it be so wrong to indulge?
Even with the passing years and the addition of children, sex had never gotten stale between Taylor and her mates. Certainly, there were times when her drive waned, like right after the twins were born, or the previous summer when it had been too damn hot to be bothered with anything. There were some times where it felt like they were going through the motions, but those times were few and far between. Most of the time, the sex was fantastic.
Taylor attributed this to her mates constantly trying to outdo one another. If one of them began to grow complacent in bed, the other was eager to pick up the slack, and before long they’d be right back to fighting for ‘top dog’. Taylor would never tell them, but their efforts were futile. Despite being identical twins, Alder and Hale were nothing alike in bed. Alder was slow and passionate and could make love to her for hours. Hale could make love for hours, too, though generally in quick bursts, followed by brief naps. Hot, hard, and wickedly efficient, he knew how to tick all of her boxes in rapid succession.
Though she tried to play it cool, Holly blew her cover.
“You’re salivating. Gross,” she said, coming to stand opposite of Glenn.
A head taller than Taylor and a solid two points hotter, Holly was an unofficial beta female of the Halcyon pack. Unofficial, because she was a fox shifter, and therefore lacked the pack instincts of the wolves, but still sort of a beta because she held a great deal of confidence and authority within the pack. Holly occasionally set Taylor’s jealousy bells to ringing, especially when Taylor and her mates were bathing and Holly would just show up, frolicking in the lake like some fabled nymph. She took solace in the knowledge that neither of her mates had ever shown any interest in Holly, mainly because she was such a massive bitch.
“Am not,” Taylor protested.
“Right,” Holly said dryly. “Just try to keep it down. Some of us have actually had to exert ourselves today. We can’t all be hauled around like a princess.”
Taylor smirked. “I’m sure if you asked, Glenn would let you ride him.”
At that, Glenn cleared his throat loudly and trudged off in the direction of the cave, leaving Taylor to stand with the flustered fox shifter. It took a lot to get under Holly’s skin, but the mention of her and Glenn generally worked.
It was a strange development. Taylor had always expected Glenn and Lark to be together, but Lark seemed ignorant to his burgeoning adulthood and still treated him much like a brother. For the rest of the pack’s females, a rather abrupt shift had happened in the last summer, right around the time Glenn had secured a position as a beta male. Women who had been previously oblivious to Glenn were now fawning and fighting over him as though he were a prized stallion.
In spite of her brash, straightforward nature, Holly seldom expressed interest in other males, except to critique them. She suspected that Holly might have slept with Hale in the past, but neither had ever said as much and Taylor couldn’t bring herself to ask. Even after two years, Taylor still had trouble interacting with females that had slept with either of her mates, and she became borderline-violent when she caught a female trying to flirt with one of them.
If she were among humans, her possessiveness might have called for therapy, or at the very least some serious soul-searching. Among shifters, however, it was expected that she bare her teeth to any female that sought to attract one of her mates. Likewise, her mates were equally possessive. Hale, in particular, could be so possessive at
times that he’d snap at his own brother, though thankfully that didn’t happen often.
Softly, so that her voice wouldn’t carry, Taylor said, “If you had any interest in Glenn, I’m sure it would be reciprocated.”
After his promotion to a beta male, Glenn had been put on the same rotation as Holly. Most of the week, that meant that they had to watch over Taylor’s cabin, ensuring that no one snuck in, or out. Their post had given Taylor a front row seat to their budding romance, such as it was. Their interactions mainly consisted of Holly teasing Glenn, but not quite like she teased other males. Her jibes were more playful and coquettish. In the mornings, when Alder and Hale left early, Holly would storm the cabin, bringing in an assortment of foraged foods that she would cook up in the cabin’s makeshift kitchenette. She always cooked enough to feed Taylor and Fawn but would take special care with Glenn’s plates, arranging each item just so. Then, she would stand over him as he ate, watching his reaction as he tried each item. Taylor knew for a fact that Glenn abhorred anything that wasn’t meat, so it was especially charming to watch him clean his plate while trying not to retch.
Holly clicked her tongue. “I’m not a human and Glenn is not an alpha. We’re not going to have some epic love story. Give it a rest already.”
“I’m not saying you should have an epic love story,” Taylor said, flicking Holly’s shoulder. “I’m just saying that you’re both looking pretty tense and maybe you could loosen each other up.”
“As if,” Holly said, the words having no real bite to them.
Taylor collected Hale’s furs from his pack, just in time for her mate to emerge from the cave. Shadow was at his heels and hopped in circles around his father as Hale shifted into human form.
Taylor never ceased to be captivated by her mates. They were both tall and broad-shouldered, with the sort of heavy muscles that came from protein-rich diets and rigorous physical activity. Taylor could tell them apart at a mere glance, mainly because Hale had picked up several more scars than his brother, including a deep gouge on his shoulder that he’d gotten while hunting a boar during the previous spring.