Wanted by the Alpha

by Laxmi Hariharan

  The scent of fear ripples through the air.

  I beckon to Ethan. He firms his lips but obeys me.

  He bounds onto the platform, strides up to me, then turns to the audience. Well, it’s unanimous then. “The new General of London is—”

  The sound of the doors crashing open breaks through the space. I look up to see a man framed at the entrance of the grand hall.

  Next to me Ethan stays where he is. But something about the way his entire body freezes tells me this is not a surprise to him.

  “You expected this, didn’t you?” I growl without taking my eyes off the stranger.

  “I had an inkling." His voice is casual.

  "Why didn’t you warn me?" The muscles of my shoulders tense.

  "I choose to back you, Zeus." Ethan tilts his head. "You are stronger, more charismatic, it's you who can lead the Council. Not him." He jerks his chin at the newcomer.

  "You know who he is?"

  Ethan doesn't answer.

  My scalp tingles. A sliver of discomfort crawls down my spine.

  I track the stranger's progress as he prowls up the room.

  He has broad shoulders and is almost as tall as me. He’s lean, yet there is a wiry strength to his gait that hints at time spent fighting. His spine is straight, his shoulders strong. He stares straight ahead and meets my gaze.

  All around him, the alphas watch as he progresses up the hall. One of them steps forward into his path. The new arrival drops into a crouch, grabs the other alpha, and hurls him aside. The challenger falls, taking down a few others. Another three step in his path. One of them raises his gun at the new arrival.

  “Let him come.”

  The men fall back, obeying my command.

  The stranger marches past them, and they close ranks behind him again.

  What do you know? Nothing like a joint enemy to unite friends and foes as one, eh?

  The alpha comes to a stop at the bottom of the dais. “I challenge you for the title of General, Brother.”

  8

  Zeus

  “Brother?” A cold feeling grips my chest. “I don’t have siblings.”

  “You are right, technically.” The stranger props his arms on his hips. “We are half-brothers.”

  My pulse thuds at my temples.

  There’s too much confidence in his gait, too much arrogance in his demeanor… He reminds me of… myself. I push away the thought almost as soon as it occurs. No, no way. He can’t have gone through what I have to get here. He isn’t my mother’s son, that’s for sure.

  Which only leaves one conclusion, and I had thought of it almost as soon as he had stalked up the hall, only I hadn’t wanted to believe it, not really.

  “Golan, the fucker, stuck his dick in almost every omega who came his way.” I drum my fingers on my chest. Best to keep talking, until I figure out a plan. My mind races ahead. Golan is out. I am… was the only blood descendant, until this alpha came around.

  I jump down from the dais and walk up to him.

  Standing in front of him, I can't deny the proof of what I see.

  The shape of his features, his height… The dark-blond hair cut military short makes his features pop in relief. Yeah, this alpha is definitely not lying.

  We could stand side by side and get a child to play that old-world game of spot ten differences, or in this case, similarities between the two of us, and the conclusion would be the same. “We are related.”

  “Indeed we are, half bro.” He peels his lips back, and all my doubts vanish.

  Fucker is my relation. I should rejoice at the fact that I’ve found a sibling, even a half sibling.

  It means I am not alone—not that it has ever mattered to me that I was. Yet, as I watch this alpha staring at me, challenging me, for a second I feel pride. My sibling who's so like me. Together we will be stronger, we can take on anyone. Not. I hold out my hand. He frowns. His gaze drops to my outstretched palm, and he grips it.

  Gotcha!

  I yank him forward, and pushing my feet into the floor, bunching my muscles, I pull his heavy body toward and over my shoulder. He arcs through the air and then twists his body mid-motion, so he flips over to land on his feet.

  What the fuck? He's fast, I'll give him that.

  He holds up his fists, bends his head, and charges, and I am ready to take him on. I am not going to lose this fight, definitely not to a just discovered sibling, and not in front of all the alphas of the Council.

  He rushes at me, and I push my feet into the floor and wait, just until the last second. I step aside again.

  He smashes through the dais, goes crashing through.

  I grip his shoulders, then heave him up, my arm around his neck as I squeeze. He grabs my arm and twists, and then I find myself flying through the air and onto the floor. The alphas around me move back farther.

  I sense him coming at me and try to move aside, but he smashes his body down on me, pinning me down.

  Like me, it seems he prefers to fight with his bare fists. He’s too fucking similar to me. And I am tired of the feeling that evokes in me. Brother, half-brother, whatever. I don’t exactly want to sit around and shoot the breeze with him.

  I am going to kill him, get him out of the way, and then move ahead with my plan of destroying every last piece of the inheritance that comes with my bloodline.

  I grab his shoulders and fling him off then spring to my feet. Leaning over him I grip his collar, and haul him up. He glowers at me, and swings his fist.

  I duck, then smash his head into the floor, and again.

  He lies there panting, on his back, then cracks his eyes open.

  I raise my fist. “Any last requests?”

  “Go fuck yourself.”

  Right. I smash my fist into his face. There's a very satisfying crunch, then blood spurts from his nose.

  He staggers to his feet, and grits out, “Finish it.” He sways, then shakes his head as if to clear it.

  “You were stupid to come rushing in here, in front of all my men and try to kill me.”

  “You think?” He smirks.

  A shiver of distrust curls down my spine. “Not even you could be so foolhardy to have barged in here like that, which makes me wonder why you’d do it.” Not that it matters, but something tugs at my subconscious mind, bothering me, and I cannot quite pin it down.

  “You are going to kill me anyway, so do it.” He thrusts out his chest.

  “Why are you so eager to die?”

  “Don’t you want to know?” He grins, and blood laces his teeth.

  And it is that which stops me. He’s too cocky, too self-assured. The hair on my forearms rises. It’s too easy to kill him like this. There’s something wrong with this setting. “I have a better idea.”

  I loosen my hold on him so fast that he steps back.

  “I’ve defeated you. Now I am not going to kill you.”

  He looks at me, and his gaze widens. “You are going to spare me?”

  “This way, the entire world will know that I won the title of General by beating my challenger. You lost. You’ll have to live with it.”

  Color pinches his cheeks. “You are making a big mistake by letting me go.”

  “That’s more my style.” I unfurl my fingers then close them again.

  His gaze drops to my fists, then back to my face. “I won’t let you live.”

  “Join the queue.” I gesture to the room. “You and most of the fuckers here want me dead.”

  His jaw flexes. “Next time you won’t see me coming.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  He swivels on his feet and makes for the exit. The big doors shut behind him.

  “You are going to regret this,” Ethan's features are hard.

  “Or perhaps I did the right thing in sparing my half-brother’s life?” Not. I know the mistake will come back to haunt me. But even monsters like me care for their own family… or perhaps there’s a half human side of me that simply cannot bear the thought
of snuffing out the life of someone so young. “I am going to defeat him, on his own turf, and claim his land next time.”

  Ethan leans back on his heels. “You’re not what you seem, Zeus.”

  “Yeah, I’m just an asshole who wants to kill his sibling in front of his own people, to make sure they know who the true power is in England and Scotland.”

  “One General, joining both lands?” He drums his fingers on his chest.

  “Restoring the balance of power to what it was before.” I draw myself up to my full height.

  Ethan nods then turns to face the gathered audience. He holds up his arm. “Alphas, meet your new General.”

  Hang on, there's more. Read on for the first 3 chapters from TAKEN BY THE ALPHA, Knotted Omega Series #1

  Zeus

  “Boo!” I bare my teeth.

  The soldier cringes, and sweat beads his forehead.

  “Really, Z?” My second-in-command narrows his gaze.

  “Okay, a bit over the top.” I raise my shoulders then let them drop. But, hey, cut me some slack, okay? I like to play with my prey.

  Besides, I have a flair for the dramatic, one of the few redeeming features I inherited from my bastard of a father. Except, oh, wait, I was the bastard in that relationship, given he’d never acknowledged me… not until I had my fingers around Golan’s neck and recognition had dawned in his eyes. Too late, Pater. Thirty years too late.

  The soldier’s skin is stretched so tight over his cheekbones that I expect it to crack any moment. The scent of piss stinks up the warehouse. The fool, clearly a beta by the way his shoulders are hunched, has wet himself.

  I yawn aloud. The sound of my jaws cracking seems to snap the man into action, for he staggers forward, followed by his partner. They haul a rolled-up carpet between them.

  Loose threads trail from the edges to sweep over the wooden floor. The patchwork on the outside of the carpet is peeling. The fabric seems so innocuous, so unassuming, it’s precisely that which sends all my instincts on alert.

  A sliver of awareness ripples over my skin. Thud, thud, thud my heartbeat accelerates. The fine hair on my neck rises.

  What the bloody hell? I can’t take my gaze off that damn rug. “Unfurl it.”

  The edge of impatience in my tone must have signaled the impending flare of temper, for Ethan, my second, moves forward—not that the soldiers will dare try anything. The stripes on their vests mark them out as emissaries of the Leader of Scotland, and Kayden doesn’t have the balls to put them up to breaking into my stronghold. I drum my fingers over my chest. Nah! It’s exactly the kind of move I’d expect that twat to try to pull off.

  Adrenaline laces my blood. I curl my fingers into fists.

  That piece of shit wants me out of the way so he can take over my position. Well, he and most of those gathered here. Don’t everyone rush all at once. I snicker.

  The Scot nearest to me pales.

  He expects me to kill him. The body count I’ve left behind in the past year ensures that most fear me. But just this once, I might spare these men. Just to keep them guessing.

  I lean forward on the balls of my feet.

  The sudden movement draws a gasp from the beta. He bends and places his side of the rolled-up fabric on the floor. The other man follows.

  I take a step forward. Honestly, I don’t make any other sign of threat, I don’t even peel back my lips, or speak… well, okay, I glare at the soldier on the right.

  With an audible gulp, he turns and scampers down the big hall toward the still open doors. His partner blinks then scoots after him. My gaze is already on the piece of fabric left behind.

  “I don’t think it’s wise to open it, General,” Ethan warns.

  Since climate change unleashed tsunamis and wrecked the earth's sub-layers thirty years ago, trace metals all but vanished. Electronics can no longer be powered up and technology collapsed, leaving no means of communicating. It means the only way to check what's inside that carpet is the old fashioned way. To open it.

  “Consider yourself heard.” I crick my neck from side to side. “You’ve done your duty, Second, so can we get this charade over with?”

  Sure, his concern is genuine, and yet it doesn’t sit easily with me.

  Not since he betrayed the ex-General, AKA my dear departed father by aiding me in killing the old man.

  “Allow me, sir.” Solomon, my third, grabs the open seam of the curled-up piece of fabric. He heaves, but it doesn’t budge.

  Ethan moves to the other side, and together they tug at it. The cloth unfurls… and flattens out into a pool of turquoise and green.

  The light from the solitary skylight far above floods over it. The entire rug shimmers, as if made of liquid sunshine.

  My pulse races. The breath catches in my throat. My heart hammers as if it’s going to rip out of my ribcage.

  The next second, a figure springs up from the carpet and launches at me. Head bent, dressed all in black. There’s a blur of movement, and a blade whines through the space.

  I slide aside.

  The breeze displaced by the stranger shimmers over my neck. A flash of pain cuts through me as the blade nicks my skin.

  I thrust out my leg, and the intruder goes sprawling to the floor, only to turn in a move which should have been near impossible.

  It calls attention to the lithe lines of the body that is wrapped in that jumpsuit. The figure launches itself back at me, and I bend my knees and throw the stranger over my shoulder.

  There’s a thump behind me, and I hear the sword skitter across the wooden floor.

  I swivel around and close the distance to where the intruder leaps up from the center of the carpet.

  The colors fade, the room shrinks around me. My vision narrows in on the face, to where the dark cloth has unraveled from around the head of the stranger. Eyes of shattered green blaze at me.

  The hair on my nape rises.

  It's her, the woman from my dreams.

  A strand of dark-red hair slinks free.

  The scent of rain on cool dawn air bleeds through the space interlaced with that sugary scent of slickness.

  Blood rushes to my groin.

  Every instinct inside me goes on alert. “Omega,” I rasp.

  Lucy

  I lift my chin, then farther up, then all the way up, to meet his gaze. To call the General massive is an understatement. He is a monster. A man-mountain, the biggest, most powerful alpha I have ever seen.

  His blue eyes blaze at me.

  A ripple of fear mixed with something else—lust? Anticipation?— tightens my stomach.

  His face is all hard planes and dark angles. Long black hair flows to his shoulders. His lower lip is full, obscenely so. It should have softened his looks, instead it only heightens the feeling of danger that clings to him like a rich coat.

  It's the exact opposite of the faded vest that clings to his torso.

  His clothes strike a jarring note in the middle of the most prosperous pocket of this city, which is where we are; but it suits this alpha. Declares exactly what he is: an asshole who doesn’t give a damn about anyone else.

  Who takes pleasure in surprising his friends and outwitting his enemies—no, he doesn’t have friends… doesn’t need friends… or lovers or… how would he be as a lover? A dominant? A male who’d take without mercy? That feminine, omega core of me quivers in anticipation.

  A pulse flares to life between my thighs.

  An age-old instinct deep inside awakens and insists that this alpha will make sure I am pleasured. He’ll bite me, lick me, suck me… and a piercing wave of desire twists my stomach.

  Heat flushes my skin, and yet I feel cold, so cold.

  I try to take a step forward, and it’s as if my feet are weighed down.

  The alpha lifts his chin, thrusts out his chest and the force of his dominance crashes over me. My breath catches in my chest. I can’t move. Can’t think. Can’t do anything but stare at his face, drink in his features. Open my he
art and absorb every last particle of impact that his sheer charisma has on me.

  I want to trace that long, hooked nose of his. To close the distance between us and bite his square, pronounced jaw. Lick it, nibble on it, then pull his head down between my thighs and make him rub his hard whiskers across my sensitive core.

  Heat floods my skin.

  My nipples tighten.

  I don’t need to look down at my breasts to know they’re thrusting out, the sharpness of my arousal a palpable outline against the material.

  He must know the effect he has on me, for the strong cords of his throat ripple. His sculpted chest seems to widen as he straightens and plants his arms on his trim hips. His powerful shoulders block out the sight of the room. His entire presence sucks up the air in the space.

  The strength of his personality is a visceral force that crashes into me and threatens to overpower me.

  I want to reach for the throbbing space between my legs and relieve the pressure that is building in my womb. What is happening to me?

  “Do you know what I do to those who cross my path?” He growls.

  The rich sound grates over my sensitized nerve endings and shudders straight to my center.

  My thighs quiver, my stomach trembles, and I thrust my pelvis forward in blatant invitation. It’s as if my body has already arrived at a decision and the rest of me is struggling to catch up.

  I grit my teeth. "I am sure you are going to tell me." I am not sure where that need to stand up to him comes from; I confess I am not thinking straight. Not when my heart pounds in my rib cage, my pulse thuds in my veins and the beat between my thighs seems to echo the fear.

  Anticipation stretches my belly.

  It's as if there is this instinct inside me that is tuned into him.

  He growls again, and the sound tugs at my nerves, rolls over me and surrounds me. It's like nothing I have ever heard. Moisture pools in my core. The scent of slick bleeds into the air. I gasp. No, not now. I can’t be heading straight into a heat cycle, not when I am here on a mission. Is it the adrenaline of the attack that has brought on this sudden wave of need?