Hunted by the Alpha (Paranormal Werewolf Shifter Romance) Read online

  This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental

  Hunted by the Alpha copyright @ 2013 by Celina Reyer. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.

  Hunted by the Alpha

  Goddamn you, Jimmy. Goddamn you. That jittery little bastard from Jersey was the reason why I found myself surrounded by three slavering brutes. Werewolf brutes to be exact, but why be redundant? The Master insisted he come along and try out his new repeating silver crossbow. Not an hour into the subway tunnels and he bugs out when we come across a pack. The recoil took him off balance, harpooning one squad mate through the head while another's back became a bloody pincushion.

  The cherry on the cake was that he brought some glass vials, filled to the brim with some explosive Chinese crap. Then he fell down on the ground. Hard. Right in front of me. The ground crumbled beneath me while he enacted his Human Torch fantasies. And now I found myself with at least one cracked rib, a sprained wrist and my shotgun right at the werewolves' feet. It's times like these that made me want to drop out of the Order, find a man and call it a day.

  Surprisingly, one of the wolves had some sort of English street urchin accent even though we were in the middle of New York City. “Oi, this one looks tasty! Look at them plump and fat tits! Can't decide if I wanna eat her or shag her right and proper!” I flushed in embarrassment and looked down to see my ample cleavage spilling out of my clothes. My black leather suit hugged my full figure and contrasted with my pale skin. The attire wasn't practical but normally we shoot wolves from a distance.

  “Hm. Those hips look fertile. Maybe not kill her." The one on the right said in an accent that defied placement.

  I had always been a big girl, but the Order training reformed a lot of my flab to muscle. My hips and thighs were still round and broad, giving me the desired 'fertile' look these wolves looked for in their female captives.

  The one in the center was on his haunches and gurgled as his tongue lapped at the air like a piece of wet ham. “Heh, a good raping. Bet she's a screamer.” His eyes were clouded out, as if he were blind and his fur was the most unkempt of them all. "I like screamers."

  I scrambled back on my hands and was careful of my wrist as he lurched forward.

  Hot drool dribbled over the concrete and over my leather boots. I yelped when his massive paws came over my legs, squeezing and testing the firmness of my flesh. I reached behind my back and felt needles of panic prickle down my back when I realized I lost my knife. His giant wolf head came inches before my face and reeked of trash and road kill. I turned away and my face formed a grimace when his paws began groping my chest.

  Was this how my legend was to end? Kiera, wolf slayer extraordinaire, raped and killed in a damp subway tunnel with no-one left to find me?

  I fought the tears from welling but it was no use.

  All of the sudden, a gust of wind washed across my face and a weight was lifted from me. When I turned to where the wolf had been, I saw that he was gone. Looking closer, I realized he wasn't gone but merely a few feet away and howling from pain.

  A man with impeccable style of dress had one knee over the creature's barrel chest as he struck his head over and over. “How many times do I have to repeat myself?” He emphasized each point with a vicious crack against the beast's chin. “Never the women!” Another kick slammed into the mangy wolf's chest and he whimpered from the blow.

  A layer of perspiration had formed over the man's face. When he locked eyes with me, he swept his loose hair back and adjusted the wrinkles in his suit. “Excuse my intemperance...it is not becoming of my station. I couldn't suffer such a loss of beauty.” He extended his hand. “I am Pyotr.”

  His accent was vaguely Slavic and surprisingly sensual. The closer he stood to me, the more I felt a certain warmth spread across my breasts. My breath quickened and I looked past his proffered hand and onto his face. His dark blond hair was streaked gray along his temples and made his chiseled features look like some Greek god exiled to the sewers.

  When I took his hand up, it felt like pure lightning shot between our fingers. My nipples became aroused and raised the leather covering my breasts into tips. Even my pussy moistened and I feigned a groan to cover up my excited gasp. I had felt this heat before in the tunnels, and figured it was just my body sexualizing the slaughter of werewolves, since little else did it for me. I hoped to god it wasn't my instincts betraying me, making me wet and ready for a surprise breeding.

  After I was up, I backed myself against a wall and took a deep breath.

  I felt my cheeks flush, not only because my nipples were pointing, but of how arousing the idea of being forcefully taken made me quiver with desire. If it had to be here, I secretly hoped this new Slavic guy would win out. Anyone but the English hooligan wolf.

  Pyotr came closer to me and extended his hand again. “Come, little one. Enjoy our hospitality or that of the hounds...the choice is yours.” His inhuman pupils flickered and he gestured at the drooling but beaten wolf staring at my crotch.

  The choice wasn't hard, but something wasn't right with this guy. I had never seen a wolf purposely not be a wolf in the tunnels, nor had I encountered one so well spoken. Then again, it wasn't as if I spent my hunting hours striking conversations with them.

  “How do I know you won't rape and kill me?” I said.

  “Remember what I said about beauty?" He nodded towards the whimpering wolf on the ground. "Bjorn would be humping your corpse if that was the case. You will be safe, I promise.”

  Yeah, I've heard that before.

  He didn't wait for me to take his hand again. In one fluid motion, he grabbed me and pulled me close to his chest. His musk bombarded me and my chest exploded with heat as if my soul had gone supernova. My whole body shuddered with arousal in his arms. My pussy grew sopping wet, and I felt like I was on the edge of an orgasm.

  “Cade, since you saw her first, pack law dictates that you are afforded as many nights with her as you wish.”

  That lying son of a bitch!

  “Alright! Fuckin' awesome!” English wolf hopped up.

  I punched Pyotr weakly as he hefted me over his back. “You lied to me!”

  “I didn't. I said come by my side if you didn't want to be made... inconvenienced. You weren't, nor will you be so long as you remain as you are. In my hands.” He was the epitome of all I fought against but I couldn't stop my body from writhing and pressed my breasts into him. The proximity gave me goosebumps and tingles. “You are welcome, by the way.”

  Before I could respond the werewolf whose accent I couldn't place knocked me over the head, eliciting a heavy backhand strike from Pyotr and a shout of outrage from Cade the English wolf. “Oi, you fuckin' fuck! Why is you hittin' me bird, Karl!?”

  Karl looked at Cade blankly. “Bjorn said he didn't like her look.”

  “The fuck are ya on about? Bjorn doesn't says anything!”

  “Heh...rape...”

  The last word I heard before hazy blackness swallowed my vision was from Pyotr. “Quiet.”

  ***

  When I opened my eyes once more, it was to the sound of heavy footsteps over stone. Cade's gutter speak had devolved more, were it even possible. He and the one who hit me seemed to be bickering over something. Whatever it was, they
were on less friendly terms from when I first saw them.

  Worse still, my arousal had only inflamed while I was passed out. My thighs and groin humped against Pyotr, and my breasts pressed closer to his back with each step he took. What had I done to be cursed to feel like this? I felt myself rub the zipper further down my chest. With each descending inch, the leather loosened and the round, halved moons of my cleavage filled up more space within my suit, yearning to reveal themselves fully.

  My drowsy eyes adjusted to the dim light and I took in the smell of garbage and rotten fruit. If I hadn't been so busy fighting off the throbbing heat in my pussy, I would have screamed. All around me were werewolves. Some huddled over flaming barrels for warmth, others stayed in their human forms, clothed in rags, and played dice. A few hulking specimens fought in the shadows, tearing at each other for one piece of mutton. Is this what the Order had brought them to?

  This was our great enemy? These were not primal forces of nature, these were overgrown sewer rats. I knew we had driven them from the forests, but the idea was that they had masterminded some kind of underground fortress where they flourished. Not only did I not see some mystical, concrete kingdom, I didn't see any females either! Perhaps the Order had been too effective in their culling. No wonder they used us as breeding vessels. I shivered with excitement at the forbidden thought.

  We left the main public area and descended into a darker cavern. Immediately the air quality improved. And I saw perhaps the Order hadn't completely wiped out their women, just all the women for the masses. I saw beautiful women in various curtained off areas of the chamber and each belonged to a high ranked wolf, if their distinguished and very human appearances were anything to go by. The women all had very sultry, dark Gypsy looks about them. The one we came closest to was already being mated by her man.

  Her incredibly endowed chest shook to his pounding. I wanted to be her. Anywhere but on this man's shoulder, somewhere where I could strum myself to completion or find some man to take me. But seeing her penetrated, with her wanton moans and his grabbing hands sinking into her jiggling bosom, proved to be intolerable. My pussy grinded anew against my kidnapper, which just made the fire in my body worse. I willed myself to stop, and just tried to be still, even as my senses were bombarded by all that was carnal.

  The wolf was in his human shape, and I saw his lover's claws rake down his back and create lines of red across his chiseled muscles. Her toes curled and tore the sheets while she convulsed in orgasm. Her wails of ecstasy sung to my soul. I couldn't fight this urge to be penetrated and I didn't know why! I had been so good at libido control before, but this felt so...insistent.

  I felt my pussy throb and engorge when I saw how the wolf sucked on her heaving tits. That's what I wanted a real man to do to me, just pin me against a wall, and take me right there. Now I would be lucky if I ever saw a human man again. And the moaning she-devil with her perfect voluptuous body, and bucking hips didn't help.

  Thankfully Pyotr moved quickly, but his retinue did not. Cade and Karl stopped to ogle the couple's passion. Even as we moved away, I was still tormented by the sight of her smooth, undulating belly and screams of pleasure. The last I saw before we turned the corner was as her arms pulled the man back down into the lush expanse of her breasts. Pyotr's retinue followed up after the man issued a challenging growl and the three scurried past the carnal sight.

  At last we came into the final chamber, the one reserved for one wolf alone. It was then I realized Pyotr must have been the Alpha, even though I lost count of how many times the Order had declared him dead in the past. The place was Spartan yet cozy. It was illuminated in an amber cast with 19th century fire lamps on wooden sea barrels, and a luxurious bed hit up against the northern wall of the place.

  Pyotr set me down at last, but did not release my binds. “I have changed my mind, Cade...” He looked to the other, more lucid werewolf, “Karl has the first crack at her. I think he deserves it for his months of scouting and trapping.”

  Karl looked very pleased. I was not.

  Neither was Cade. “What? But ya said I saw her first so I gets to pluck that ripe lil' twat!”

  "Then take it back, Cade." Pyotr flicked a lazy look over his shoulder. "Or have you forgotten how to be a wolf again?" That question made the room explode in violence. Cade and Karl's pent-up anger boiled over in a flurry of claws and teeth.

  Bjorn laughed in a dark corner as his pack mates fought and bled.

  It didn't last long, and they didn't destroy much, except for the stone wall near the chamber's entry. Cade clawed into Karl's jugular like his sharp fingers were a bunch of commando knives. Karl on the other hand, bashed Cade's lupine skull into the wall so hard that cracks and indentations formed in the stone. In less than thirty seconds, Cade dropped dead while Karl slowly slid down the wall, failing to hold back the tide of red that rushed past his paw.

  Pyotr leaned down to Karl and closed his fluttering eyes. “Well then, that settles that. The lout and the malcontent are dead and the dog...” he pointed to Bjorn, “knows his place. Oh yes, and I have a new Mate.” He came over to me and undid my bonds. “Now, I would say that's cause to celebrate and break out the champagne...if we had it. The act of ethnic cleansing, regrettably, makes luxury as much a casualty as the people themselves.”

  Great, a guilt tripping werewolf. “What, you don't like it when mankind fights back? 200 years ago, you came for us!”

  He stood up and smiled. “Did we? Darling, I'm Russian. Historical revisionism runs in my blood as much as my love for the moon, and I tell you now, your Master is of the falsest sort. But that can wait. What can't, is that you are my Mate, marked by the moon to become one with her children.”

  “Wait... what?”

  “I know you've felt it, a burning in your heart, a yearning in your loins. A tingle that comes about every time you come down here. Sometimes it's on the wrist or the thigh...”

  I reached up to my breasts, caressing the soft skin where I had felt it. “That's a good place, too.” he said.

  I looked back at him. “You mean all this time...”

  “It's me.”

  Well that explained just about everything. I was relieved to know I hadn't started developing a fetish for the act of killing, but at the same time, this whole Mate business was unsettling. “What exactly do you mean, that I'm your Mate?”

  “You are my conquest, trophy, spoil of war and so much more. I couldn't let Cade have you, even if our laws put him in the right. Nature's laws put him in the wrong. The pack is made stronger by his demise.” He looked to Bjorn. Only the dim glow of his canine eyes betrayed his presence. Pyotr flicked his fingers and gestured toward the exit, and his 'dog' followed, letting out a small whimper as he departed.

  He leaned down to me, and groped at the mounds of my chest. He kissed me hard, like he was drinking my essence and savoring my taste. I even felt my tongue reach into his mouth and I melted into pleasure. My neck leaned into it and I heard my muffled moans float into the air as I pushed my tits out. I pressed my chest further into his palms and loved it. Despite how wrong it was, I craved this kind of masculine presence in my life.

  As if reading my mind, he paused and looked me in the eyes. “Why do you think you wear such radiant hair down to your shoulders? Dressed so tightly? Not terribly tactical is it?” He looked down to my bulging chest and ran his finger in between my cleavage. “All those years wearing low-cut suits, suits that clung and cleaved between your bottom...” His hand skimmed down to my cheeks and spared a few gropes over the smooth leather. “All because of me. Your body knows what your mind does not.”

  Had I found the tamer of my strong spirit at last? In the arms of my enemy of all people? I was so lost in his eyes and the fondling that I hadn't even realized he had picked me back up, this time holding me in his arms. No doubt he did so to grip and squeeze the soft spheres of my ass. I didn't mind the touch.

  He carried me past brick arches, clogged with soot and dust and thr
ew me down onto his circular, silken bed. I sank within its plushness and my fatigue battled with my lusts. On one hand, I wanted to collapse into sleep, on the other hand...I really wanted him.

  Before he fell over me, I caught a quick glimpse at the wall behind him and other furnishings. Bizarre and exotic antiques lined shelves and walls. Lamps, skulls, skulls with fangs, skulls with only a nose hole and no eyes...it was weird, but classy. Like him. The place even smelled good. I mean, how often does any place within the New York subway system smell like rosewater and fresh ozone?

  When he was on top of me, I got a full blast of his masculine pheromones. My body shuddered and I felt the hairs rise on my neck. Just above my swollen breasts, my Mark burned so hot that it began to glow with whitish blue light in the shape of a full moon. It wasn't painful this time, but pleasant, like a soothing heat descending and spreading through my flesh.

  My eyes widened and my body cried out in need when I felt his hands grip onto my breasts, pulling and tugging at my low cut leather vest. The pressure of his palms and my writhing made the upper swells of my breasts wobble and sway, fighting just as much as me to be free of my restraints. I needed him in me. My sworn enemy. The act of giving myself over to him and betraying my order sent thrills straight to my loins. I don't think my pussy had ever been so hot or wet in my life.