I Am The Alpha
The pack has ruled over its territory, the wilds of Washington, for a generation, but that has all crumbled with the murder of the Alpha. William Reese is determined he will heal the pack by taking leadership, but in doing so he pits himself against enemies he may not be able to beat.
Chloe has been pulled from her home and thrust into a world she never knew existed, a world her father was careful to keep hidden from her. She is now threatened with a gruesome death by terrifying creatures from legend.
Somehow William and Chloe must find a way to work together to stay alive against the forces determined to see them dead.
She was singing when she came out of her bathroom, and I distinctly heard her short scream as she obviously caught sight of me, or at least my shadow. I leaped into the branches of the tree that grew next to the building, silently cursing myself.
Dumbass, dumbass, dumbass, I swore mentally. How could you be so careless? Father taught you better than that.
I held still, waiting for her to scream again or to go for the phone to call the police, either action would require I move extremely fast. Instead, she did the opposite of what I expected, she cautiously opened the doors and stepped out onto the balcony. I was hidden well and I knew it, so I held still and waited for her to go back inside.
I was tempted just to take her right there, but the area was too well lit between the streetlights and the lights in the bedroom blazing away like they were. If she made enough noise before I got to her, someone could and would easily spot us. It was too dangerous, too half assed, and it was better to wait… to wait until she was in bed and I had the cover of darkness to aid me. Another thing my Father taught me? That I should spend more time considering all the angles if I wanted to stand a chance. That I needed to be more patient.
She spent several more minutes outside with me. She looked around the balcony, even going so far as to lean over the railing to look down and out over the garden wall. She was trying to check out the street below, there was no one there, of course; the culprit was above her. As with most people, she never thought to look up. I had to smile to myself, then she really gave me something to smile about. When she straightened up hands flat to the stone railing, I had an exceptional view straight down the front of her slinky sleepwear, her arms bracketing her lush tits and squeezing them together for me. Oh, that was nice! A wave of heat ran through me and I forced it down with a ruthless determination. Now was not the time, nor was she the person. Jesus. I settled in, disgruntled with myself and forced myself to be patient. I waited for her to return to her room. My luck held out, she went inside and she hadn’t spotted her bag down there. I let out a slow breath, relieved I was still on track and finally, after what felt like hours, the woman turned out the lights and got her ass to bed.
Still, I waited. It took time for her to settle in and to stop fidgeting. I mean, fear is a powerful motivator to keep someone from settling down right away and I’d caused her quite a jolt. But as the minutes wore on, she calmed down, the rustling of her unrest stopped and so did her random mutterings which were just that side of inaudible to me, damn it. It would have been nice to know what she’d been muttering about. The scent of peaches lingered in the air behind her even now, for all the time it took for her to settle in. I waited for it to dissipate completely before I made any kind of move.
The air outside was still, crisp and cool, edging toward chilly, and though she had been startled by the brief glimpse she got of me through her curtains, she had left her balcony doors, not only unlocked but slightly ajar. They would have been no barrier to me even if she had locked them, but I found it convenient that she still obviously felt so safe and secure in her own home.
This was one of my favorite parts of the hunt. The moment just before the kill, or the capture in this particular case. She wasn’t asleep. Almost, but not quite, her breathing hadn’t deepened enough, the cadence was wrong for true sleep. My patience had run out though and so I moved with the silence of a shadow, slipping down from the tree and through the open door. I stood, for a moment, looking down at her. She lay on her back, the light robe tossed to the foot of her bed. Her night gown clung to every curve of her in a thoroughly distracting manner where her blankets didn’t cover her body. I was pretty sure she wasn’t wearing anything else under the nightgown.
While I waited, I watched, taking in every minute detail. Admittedly, I stood there with a raging hard on growing in my jeans while I did it. I was waiting for that moment, that one precise moment that was one of the sweetest sensations in the world. The moment she realized subconsciously that she was being watched, that the predator had found her and it was already too late.
As soon as I could draw full breath I struggled into a sitting position. I was about to let loose and start screaming when he growled at me. It was unlike anything I had ever heard before, an animal sound emanating from his very human throat. It caught me so off guard I forgot about the whole screaming and making a fuss that I was supposed to be doing. He knew it too! The bastard jerked the wheel and slammed on the brakes and I was thrown back down below the level of the windows. My head connected sharply with the tempered glass on my way down and I cried out, my hands tied and useless in front of me, though I desperately tried to stop myself from colliding with anything else.
He jerked the car’s shifter into park and got out, the crisp fall air swirling into the car’s warm interior in his wake. The back door opened and I kicked out. He cursed and grabbed my ankle and I screamed. I screamed and howled and I kicked out with my other foot and connected solidly with his chest. Predictably, it didn’t do a damned thing for me, except piss him off.
He grunted and dove into the back seat, over the top of me, his large hands curving around my tied wrists. He was between my thighs and I gasped which I choked off into a whimper. His black jeans may have been two sizes too big, his belt working overtime to keep them up, but there was no amount of fabric in the world that would disguise the hot, solid length of his erection which pressed solidly at the apex of my thighs.
“You keep struggling, I will rape you, just to make a point,” he threatened. I blinked and he grinned savagely, his teeth very white and almost sharp looking, nestled in his dark blonde goatee.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked and hated how breathy it was.
“None of your business, either behave, or I’ll put you in the trunk.”
I turned it over in my mind. That had possibilities, I could break out a tail light or pull the emergency… I gasped and suppressed a moan as he squeezed my wrists so hard, I swore the bones in them ground together.
“You’re hurting me!” I cried.
“That’s the idea, Little Huntress, you going to calm your shit?”
“Oh my god, fuck you!” I spat, “Why should I cooperate with you? Why should I help you kidnap me?”
He leaned back a bit, actually considering the question before meeting my eyes again. “Because I’m not the only one interested in finding you, and they aren’t nearly as nice as I am.”
I stilled, confused, but that didn’t stop me from considering the implications behind his statement.
“I don’t understand…” I said and he scowled.
“You don’t need to, you just need to do what you’re told,” he shook his chin length, dishwater blonde hair back, out of his face.
“It’s not in me to go down without a fight,” I told him. He smiled and it wasn’t a nice one.
“While as much as I would like to find out what it’s like for you to,” he cleared his throat, “Go down, we’ve got a long drive ahead of us. Now you can either lay here, real nice and quiet, or…” he gripped one of my fingers and bent it back painfully, “I can start breaking little pieces off. Your choice, Little Huntress.”
Text Copyright © 2015 A.J. Downey & Ryan Kells
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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