Rise of the Alphas

by Alexis Davie

  They came back down to the ground with a crash and Zane felt relief when he saw Cleo had the grey wolf pinned to the ground, her jaws snapping and snarling over the grey wolf’s throat. As Zane stepped closer, the grey wolf turned back into a man. Cleo stayed in place, pinning him to the ground by his shoulders, her sharp teeth inches from his face.

  “I surrender!” the man shouted. “I surrender. Call the wolf off.”

  Zane moved to the man’s side. He pulled a pair of metal handcuffs from his inside jacket pocket and cuffed the man.

  “If you so much as think about turning, I will rip your throat out,” Zane said to the man.

  “I… I won’t,” he assured Zane.

  Zane looked at Cleo and nodded. She backed away from the man and turned back into her human form. It took everything Zane had to keep his focus on the man rather than Cleo’s naked form. He handed her the bag and waited for her to throw some clothes on and then he turned his full attention to the stranger.

  “Let’s start with who the hell you are and why you’re in our pack’s territory,” Zane said.

  17

  Cleo sat down on the sandy floor of the cave while Zane remained standing. Cleo sat down by his feet, opposite the man. The man didn’t look to be older than thirty. He sat hunched over, self-conscious of the fact that he was naked. Cleo couldn’t muster up much sympathy for him, but still, she knew what it had felt like to be naked and vulnerable and she dug in the bag Zane had given her and pulled out a pair of shorts. She threw them to the man.

  “Put those on,” she said.

  He nodded, grateful, and awkwardly pulled the shorts on. With his modesty restored, he sat up straighter and Cleo saw he looked to be in good shape, although evidently not good enough to win in a fight against her.

  “My name is Leighton Williamson,” the man said, answering Zane’s earlier question.

  “The son of the alpha Vaughn Williamson?” Zane demanded.

  “Yes and no,” Leighton replied. “I’m the alpha now. My father was killed. That’s why I’m in your territory. Yes, I killed your father, but only in revenge for the death of my own father. I hung around to ensure that this wasn’t going to lead you to my own pack who are in hiding.”

  “You can rest assured I have no interest in slaughtering innocents,” Zane said quickly.

  “Then that’s something we have in common,” Leighton said.

  “How do we have that in common? You’ve admitted to killing my father. And you would have killed Cleo, given the chance,” Zane snapped.

  “You saw me in wolf form. Do you really think I couldn’t have taken her? I surrendered because I didn’t want to hurt her,” Leighton said.

  Cleo felt anger bristle inside of her, but rationally, she knew he was right. Anger had driven her to attack, but logic told her now she was lucky not to have been killed. Leighton went on before Zane could confirm or deny this point.

  “And as for your father, he was far from innocent. I told you I killed him in revenge for my father and that was the truth. Your father killed mine in the first move of a plot to take over my pack. I did what had to be done. I don’t expect you to believe me or understand me, but if you give me your word that no members of my pack will be hurt, I will come with you quietly and face whatever punishment you deem fit.”

  Zane looked at Cleo, who shrugged. As much as she wanted to see Leighton as a cold-hearted murderer, there was something about the almost casual way he spoke that told her there was maybe a hint of truth to what he was saying.

  “Get up,” Zane commanded.

  Leighton scrambled to his feet and he and Zane stood looking at each other for a long moment.

  “I don’t believe you,” Zane said. “I’ll make that clear right now. However, I’m a fair man and I won’t execute you on the spot. You will stand trial tomorrow before the pack and we will collectively decide your fate.”

  Cleo thought that maybe Zane did half believe Leighton. Something in his voice told her he wasn’t as confident as he was projecting himself to be.

  “And my pack?” Leighton asked.

  “You have my word that your pack won’t be harmed unless they come here looking for trouble,” Zane said. “Now, move. You’re going to my place where you will be locked in the dungeons until your trial.”

  Zane and Cleo marched Leighton to Zane’s place, one of them on either side of him. They didn’t speak. Although Cleo had questions, she didn’t want to ask them in front of Leighton. They reached Zane’s place and they took Leighton down a set of stone stairs and into the dungeon, where they locked him in a cell.

  “The cell has pure silver bars. For your own safety, I would advise you not to touch them,” Zane said.

  Leighton nodded and Zane turned and stalked away. Cleo took one last look at Leighton, a man who seemed to have accepted his fate with dignity, and then she followed Zane up the stairs and to the living room.

  “What do you think? Is there any possibility he’s telling the truth?” Cleo asked finally.

  Zane looked at her. She could see the strain on his face.

  “I don’t want to believe him, but there’s a little part of me that knows I have to at least look into his claims before he goes before the pack, or I’m a monster,” he said.

  “We’ll look into everything,” Cleo said. “And we’ll make sure that whatever happens, he has a fair shot at telling his truth.”

  Zane smiled at her, a weary smile, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He kissed the top of her head.

  “Thank you, Cleo,” he said. “And for what it’s worth, you could have taken him even if he had fought back.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” Cleo said softly. “Anyway, it’s late and I should go. If your mom catches me here, it’s only going to cause trouble.”

  “No,” Zane said. “Stay. Please. Now that I’m the pack alpha, I’ll be expected to name my mate at the official crowning ceremony anyway. My mom will find out then, and if she doesn’t like it, frankly, she can learn to live with it.”

  “Wait, you’re asking me to be your mate?” Cleo said, her eyes opening wide in surprise.

  Zane laughed softly.

  “Well, aren’t you already my mate?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am,” Cleo smiled.

  Zane kissed her, a tender kiss that told her everything she needed to know about the way he felt about her. He pulled back from her lips and looked deep into her eyes and then he kissed her forehead gently.

  “Go on up to bed, Cleo. I’ll be up soon,” he said.

  “Zane, you’re exhausted. You need to get some sleep,” she said.

  She could see the weight of the last two days on his face. He looked ready to drop.

  “I know. And I won’t be long. I just need a few moments alone to process all of this. I’m alright, I swear,” he said.

  Cleo stood up reluctantly.

  “Okay, but don’t be too long, because I don’t think I’ll be awake for much longer,” she said.

  18

  Zane sat alone in the darkness, trying to make sense of everything. He knew that wasn’t about to happen. There were too many unanswered questions. He decided that first thing in the morning, before he called a meeting of the pack, he was going to talk to Leighton again and get the answers he really needed—the painful ones that would make him at least consider the possibility that Leighton was speaking the truth.

  Zane could feel his eyes closing and he knew if he didn’t move soon, he would end up falling asleep where he sat. Now that the adrenaline that had flooded his system through the earlier part of the night had gone, he was exhausted. He thought of Cleo in his bed waiting for him and he felt a warmth inside of himself, but even the thought of lying down beside her couldn’t convince his tired, aching body to move.

  His eyes slipped closed again, and he stopped trying to fight to keep them open. He was almost asleep when a memory flitted through his mind, a memory of a phone call he had overheard a couple of years ago
. His father talking to someone about a years-old feud. The suggestion that killing the current alpha would leave the pack weak and allow them to infiltrate the pack and wipe it out.

  Zane’s eyes flew open, his mind wide awake again. He had written the conversation off as something he had misunderstood at the time, and when nothing untoward had happened, he had put the conversation out of his mind, forgetting it entirely. Until now.

  He knew now something had come of it. Just like that, he knew Leighton had spoken the truth. He couldn’t expect the pack to believe him without any evidence, though. He pushed himself up and went to his father’s office, where he entered the password he wasn’t supposed to know into his father’s computer.

  Within minutes he had found the evidence he needed but hadn’t wanted to find. There was an email chain, a lengthy discussion between his father and another pack alpha about taking out Vaughn Williamson and methodically killing each pack member.

  Zane shook his head. He still felt like he didn’t know the full extent of this, but he did know that he couldn’t sanction killing Leighton now. And he also knew that whatever feud his father and Vaughn had had, it ended here. He didn’t want to be the kind of alpha who craved power, who wanted to take down other packs. He wanted to be the kind of alpha who promoted peace and harmony amongst the packs.

  He knew what he had to do, and with a long sigh, he stood up and headed for the dungeons.

  Epilogue

  Two Days Later

  Cleo was still a little shell-shocked as she sat on the raised platform beside Zane, looking out at the entire pack. She spotted her parents, who were beaming with pride. She spotted Annie and Cody, Rose and Harvey, and her other friends. She saw people she had been to high school with, whom she had never spoken to, but who now looked at her with awe.

  The ceremony for Zane to be crowned as the new pack alpha had brought Cleo into the spotlight when he named her as his one true mate and told the pack how she would rule by his side, keeping him in line and making sure he never ever tried to convince any pack member to do anything they didn’t want to do.

  He had talked about the pack mentality and how Cleo believed everyone should have a voice. He had talked about setting up a voting system, so everyone did get a voice when it came to making the important choices.

  The pack had gone wild, cheering and chanting not only Zane’s name, but hers as well. Zane turned to her now and she nodded encouragement. Now came the hard part. Zane stood up and walked to the edge of the platform.

  “As you are all aware, my father was killed by a wolf earlier in the week. Cleo and I have found his killer. And we know why he was killed. My father wanted to infiltrate another pack. To wipe them out of existence because of a feud between the leaders that went back years. Instead of living in peace, my father took the nuclear option. And I won’t carry on that tradition.

  “My father killed Vaughn Williamson in cold blood, the first step in his plan to take over the pack. Vaughn’s son, Leighton, took his revenge. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is where the bloodshed ends. Both of us have a casualty, a leader to mourn. But we also have a lesson to be learned. The lesson that bloodshed on a mass scale is wrong. That it will only lead to further heartache.

  “And for that reason, Leighton Williams is hereby exonerated of any crimes he has committed against my father.”

  The pack fell quiet. It was better than Cleo could have hoped for. She and Zane had been expecting a full-scale mutiny. Silence was better than that.

  “Ronnie,” Zane said, turning to his beta. “Please bring Leighton in.”

  Ronnie nodded and he disappeared from view for a moment. When he returned, Leighton stood beside him. He had showered and dressed in an outfit borrowed from Zane. He was no longer handcuffed. Leighton moved onto the platform to stand beside Zane.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, my first act as your leader is this. To inspire peace and harmony instead of war and bloodshed,” Zane said.

  He turned toward Leighton as Ronnie handed him a knife. Zane held out his hand and Leighton placed his hand on it, palm up. Zane cut Leighton’s palm and then his own. He offered Leighton his hand again, this time to shake his. Leighton shook his hand.

  “You have witnessed us taking an ally blood vow and you all know what that means,” Zane said. “No one from this pack will hurt Leighton or his pack, and no one from his pack will hurt any of us. We are allies, friends. And the feud dies here.”

  “To peace!” a voice from the crowd shouted, and just like that, the whole pack began cheering, whooping, and howling in support of Zane.

  Cleo released a breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding. Zane turned to her, a relieved smile on his face, and in that moment, it really hit Cleo for the first time how completely and utterly in love she was with Zane. She would give her life for him, share her life with him, and be by his side always.

  He had brought the packs together again, and he had chosen love over hate, even though that must have been hard for him. Cleo knew it had broken his heart to learn the truth about his father’s death, and he had had every chance to brush this under the carpet, to paint Leighton as a monster and avenge his father.

  She was proud of him for putting the pack’s needs above his own, and for the first time, she thought that maybe with the right leader, the pack mentality could be a good thing.

  Zane nodded to Ronnie, who escorted Leighton back out of the room. The pack swarmed the stage, and Cleo found herself in a crush of congratulations and back slaps and general hilarity.

  When the crowd finally began to disperse, she sought out Zane. She threw her arms around him and kissed him hard on the mouth, feeling heat flooding her body.

  “Wow,” Zane said, when they finally came up for air. “What was that for?”

  “I just wanted you to know how in love with you I am,” Cleo smiled.

  Zane smiled back at her, his eyes shining.

  “I love you too, Cleo,” he whispered before his mouth found hers again.

  Cleo melted into his kiss, excitement coursing through her body. It wasn’t just excitement for what she knew would happen when the last few stragglers left the room and they were alone together. It was excitement for their future together.

  Cleo could hardly wait for their lives together to start, and in that moment, she was happier than she had ever been and happier than she had ever thought she could be.

  Waking the Dragon

  Waking the Dragon

  Text Copyright © 2019 by Alexis Davie

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First printing, 2019

  Publisher

  Secret Woods Books

  info@secretwoodsbooks.com

  www.SecretWoodsBooks.com

  1

  Garrick

  Garrick blew a smoke ring. He wasn’t showing off, didn’t need to, and besides, he was drinking alone, but it was a habit, that little pop of the jaw and light breath out.

  This was the only pub in the East End of London, in Garrick’s opinion, worth his time these days. And by that, he meant it was still grimy, sticky, and run by immortals. And they didn’t care if you smoked inside. Well, not when you were Garrick, anyway. Garrick could do whatever he wanted. And god, was he bored of it. Of course, it was all relative. He remembered before there had been any pubs here, before taverns, even. He remembered, vaguely, before there had been a London to speak of. A settlement by a river. Then the bloody Romans, then… blah, blah, history.

  Relative or not, Garrick could not stand gastropubs. And worse than gastropubs was the craft
beer, the artisan beer it was now. Ghastly. Awful. And so many people everywhere, noshing and sloshing and generally being loud and happy and not quietly nursing warmish ale like was right and proper. Garrick took a sip of his warmish ale. And it wasn’t just the people-people either, shifter landlords, and vampire landlords… everyone was getting in on it.

  It’s conspicuous not to move with the times, Elfred had said when Garrick had walked into his favorite greasy spoon to find her upgrading to a coffee shop. A coffee roaster, in fact. He just wanted egg and chips. He’d been eating egg and chips at Ellie’s for fifty years.

  Well, Garrick could do what he wanted, and he was done moving with the times. This was it. He was stopping here, in this clapped out boozer by Hackney Downs. Idly, he wondered what would happen if he stubbed his cigarette out on the bartender’s arm. Not that he wanted to, but what would old Harry say if he did? He’d get that look, the same one as when he spilled a drink, knocked over a chair, or put anything but The Velvet Underground on the jukebox.

  The ‘60s had been this place’s heyday. Actually. 1969 was the last time Garrick remembered having fun. He fingered the thin lapel of his suit with his free hand. It was holding up pretty well, he thought. To be fair, he’d bought ten on Carnaby Street, that one day; it had been summer and too hot to wear them, but he’d bought them anyway. It was easy to work the economy, now, as an immortal. Capitalism favored those with money to invest and large networks of friends, acquaintances, and families who owed them a favor, to draw on for knowledge.

  Not that Garrick thought about money. He had a bank manager and a financial advisor, and when he needed money, he went to the bank and got it because he couldn’t do with keeping hold of a stupid plastic card or remembering a single four-digit number.