by Eliza Gayle
Alpha Knows Best
A Southern Shifters Novel
Eliza Gayle
Gypsy Ink Books
Contents
Alpha Knows Best
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Bonus Chapter
Also by Eliza Gayle
Books Writing As E.M. Gayle
Alpha Knows Best
Book 3: Southern Shifter Series
© Eliza Gayle 2011
All Rights Reserved
[email protected]
http://ElizaGayle.com
Eliza on Twitter
Eliza on Facebook
Eliza on Goodreads
Want to be notified of new releases, exclusive contests and other great fun stuff?
Click HERE and sign up for Eliza's Newsletter
Alpha Knows Best, Book 3 Southern Shifter Series
He can run but he can't hide. Not from duty. Not from danger. And especially not from the woman who forces him to face the truth. Malcolm Gunn's time is running out along with his ability to shift. When confronted with his past he thinks he's found a solution. With the help of a little rope, he can let nature takes its course. Unfortunately the woman who is the key to his existence harbors a powerful secret that will destroy them both.
Cheyenne's been hired to track and retrieve Malcolm at any cost. Her only plan is to get in, get out and keep her sanity intact. In that order. But she's been warned...If he catches her, he will stake his claim whether she is willing or not. Deceit and lies bring them together. Murder puts them on the run. Their enemies are closing in and there's only one, irreversible way out. Some choices can never be forgiven and one man's anger can destroy it all...Malcolm.
Chapter One
Malcolm Gunn stopped breathing at the shift of air in his house. His eyes popped open when the fur prickled along his forearms, warning him of the intruder nearby. He’d gone to bed hours ago but something had kept him from falling into a deep sleep and now he knew what.
Someone had been hunting him and was now in his home.
Nose to the air, he took a slow deep breath, seeking the scent of a hunter.
Cougar. Familiar.
The scent was unmistakable, one any other of his kind would recognize right off the bat. His eyes slid closed as he allowed the smell deeper inside while he sought an answer to what he faced. Definitely not one of his brothers but still a cougar. He couldn’t help but wonder what idiot would be so brave as to enter the lair of a black cougar without permission. He’d easily be within his rights to kill on sight with no questions asked. Yeah, if he was still part of the clan. As an outcast no one gave a shit about him and any aggression toward another cougar could easily lead to a visit from one of his brothers, The Death Enforcers.
He brushed his fingers across the hair on his chest to relieve the prickling another’s presence in his house created. The scent had a distinct underlay to it besides the basic aggression that always lay just underneath the surface of a were cougar on a hunt. A sudden flash of sweet reached him then and his body arrowed up from the bed, his bare feet landing silently against the hardwood floors.
A woman prowled his house. And not just any woman.
Malcolm crouched low to the ground, careful not to disturb the airflow around the room. Better not to let her know he was awake and lying in wait for her. He’d give her a little more time to get closer. His hand slid back underneath the single pillow on his bed and wrapped around the hilt of the hunting knife that he kept there. Nowadays the weapon was mostly used for gutting animals he’d caught, but habit made him keep it for protection as well. He had no idea what her intentions were but he wasn’t about to face her unprepared. It had been a long time since he’d had to kill a person and while the animal in him remembered it occasionally, the man didn’t miss it at all.
He listened for any telltale sign that would indicate her location. Nothing, as he’d expected. This woman knew what the hell she was doing. A floorboard ten feet from his bedroom door creaked quietly. He smiled slowly, a surge of satisfaction spreading through him. But she wasn’t better than him. The air in the house stilled again as he imagined her waiting and listening for any indication that he’d woken from the soft sound she’d made. He’d designed and created that little trap himself and if she’d been human she would never have heard it.
Would she keep going? By now, she would have followed his scent to this room, but no way in hell would anyone ever get through that door without waking him. If this was the woman he suspected, and his body screamed it was, she’d know that and be prepared. He glanced behind at the window over his bed and decided to approach this in a different way. If she wanted to play cat and mouse he’d be more than happy to oblige her—except, like it or not, she was about to become the mouse. He crept to the window and raised it without a sound, just enough to give him room to slip out.
Malcolm inhaled the night air deep into his lungs. The scent of earth and moisture clung to everything around him. This was his favorite time of the night, those quiet hours shortly before the rest of the world woke up. Nature was at its peak power during this period. She could overpower and overcome anyone she wanted at any given time but when Mother Nature rested along with the rest of the world, his animal longed to roam.
He slipped into the cover of trees that surrounded his temporary home. A feature he’d used to his advantage more than once these past weeks. The wet grass slipped cool under his feet and the cat ached for freedom.
Not yet. He couldn’t risk the pain.
He struggled to soothe the restless animal inside him. First we confirm the identity of the woman stupid enough to enter our home, then when she’s taken care of we’ll take care of our needs.
Emerging from the forest, he crouched outside the side door that led through the garage and listened. As best he could tell, she still hadn’t breached his bedroom but he needed to hurry because there was no telling what her plan was. The bitterness of a brewing betrayal clawed at his gut. He’d honestly hoped he’d never have to see her again. At least on a conscious level.
He slipped through the dark and around his Land Rover with ease. Not only did he know this layout like the back of his hand, he didn’t need light to see. A cougar’s vision meant he saw in crystal clear clarity with or without light so not much got past him just because it was dark outside.
He turned the knob and opened the door into the house. He’d not moved an inch and her sweet smell washed over him. While his brain worried about an unwarranted attack, his dick stood up and took notice, making it damned hard to think straight when all the blood in his body pooled into his groin and his pulse beat for the not-quite-a-stranger roaming his house.
Get a grip. He seriously doubted she’d come for the long overdue fucking.
But it had been a long time since he’d been with a female of his own species. For a while, he’d toyed with some witches that liked to dance on the dark side but even he’d grown bored with that after a while. While he enjoyed his fair share of trouble, there were just some things nature didn’t intend for you to mess with and sooner or later she would fuck back.
He looked down to see he'd tented his shorts and he cursed the loose boxers he�
��d chosen to sleep in. This was all he needed. He’d grab her and she’d either laugh at her effect on him or find a way to use his condition against him. There were a dozen scenarios of how this could play out running through his head as he padded through the kitchen on his way to the living room. From the middle of the room he would be able to see the full length of the hall that stretched out in front of the three bedrooms in his house.
Malcolm slowed his steps, knowing he wouldn’t get much closer without being detected unless he controlled his breathing as well as his movements. He waited for his heartbeat to slow and his breath to slide in and out of his nose on a soft, barely there whisper.
The knife hand dropped to his side, still at the ready but not overly threatening as he took the two steps to where they would be forced to come face to face. Except—fuck. She wasn’t there. No way did she slip through one of the bedroom doors without him detecting her.
“Looking for me?”
He whirled at the sultry voice behind him in time for her to deliver a kick to his stomach, catching him off balance and sending him flying backward to sprawl on the floor. Air whooshed from his lungs and his head cracked against the hard floors. Pain exploded in his head, little shards of sharp, burning sensations that took hold for several long seconds before clearing.
Stunned that she’d snuck up on him, he groped for his bearings. The little minx took full advantage of his delay and pounced on top of him, straddling his legs with her own. He didn’t even see the knife until she had it pressed to his throat and dangerously close to his jugular.
“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”
Malcolm slowly dragged the air back into his lungs and wondered what kind of crazy bitch she’d turned into. The power emanating from her came soaked in strength without even a whiff of fear. For a second or two, he felt frozen in time. This woman looked nothing like the Chey he remembered. This woman had obviously trained and his instincts screamed she would not be an easy fight. Interesting.
Her white blonde hair was tied up in a braid but a few strands had come loose and curled around her face. His fingers itched to brush them from her cheeks. With the anger in her eyes and the stern shape of her mouth, she reminded him more of the women from his clan than ever. In an act of aggression, she bore resemblance to the cougar more than ever.
“My tongue’s just fine, Chey. Want to find out?”
The look in her blazing eyes flared hot, shining in the moonlight as she speared him with her gaze. Electrifying pools of blue that a man could easily get lost in. All but a few shifters had green eyes and he’d only heard of one kind that had blue. He curled his lip at the memory.
The elusive white cougars.
Half-breeds that no clan wanted except for their dirty work. While he and his brothers carried out death sentences in accordance with the laws and traditions of their councils, her kind had trained for a different kind of mission. They’d become mercenaries available to the highest bidder. They used methods of stealth that he and his brothers rarely bothered with. They didn’t need to.
“In your dreams, Malcolm.”
Over the years he’d allowed his perception of her to soften. Maybe she was different. Obviously not, considering the position he now found himself in. There was nothing soft about the blade cutting into his skin, or the strength in which she pinned him with her free hand. Obviously the only emotion she’d developed outside her family was anger. It probably made her missions easier.
He growled warningly. “Then get the hell off me.”
“Or what?” Her hand tightened its vise tight grip on his arm and pinned him to the ground, a position he wanted her in right now. If he thought her scent had been enticing, that was nothing compared to the body heat infusing him as she sat atop him thinking she had him under control. From the moment she’d set foot in his house, she’d set their course in motion. It was only a matter of time.
With her hair pinned back, he stared at the pale expanse of her bare skin like a moth to flame. His teeth ached with the need to sink into the sweet curve of her neck and taste.
Goddess, get a grip.
Clearly it had been too long. Mate or not, there was no excuse for the extreme reaction his body had toward her. If she slid back an inch or two she would know too. His raging hard on had not eased in the slightest since he’d first scented her. Not even the subtle smell of the wolf on her deterred him. Oh no, instead he hurt like fucking hell, throbbed actually from wanting her. He needed to get his little half-breed off him and now. Before he did something crazy like start shredding her clothes.
“I don’t want to hurt you… but I will.” Although he imagined his idea of hurting her and her ideas would likely differ drastically. The kind of pain he had in mind could bring the most mind numbing pleasure if given half the chance.
“I wouldn’t lay odds on that if I were you. I’m not the same woman I was all those years ago.”
“So I gather. Doesn’t change the danger. Or the warning.” The last time he’d seen her, he’d been so angry that fate had fucked them hard. He’d had a duty to his family to uphold the laws and traditions of their kind, and mating with a woman who had wolf blood in her veins would have landed them both at the receiving end of a death sentence.
“Yes, Malcolm. I haven’t forgotten a single, disgusting, hate-laden word that came out of your mouth that night. Why do you think I have a knife at your throat?”
His body tightened further at the sound of his name coming from her mouth. And what a mouth it was. Full and pink standing out against the porcelain color of her skin, lush was the word that came to mind. So pale it practically glowed. The anger running underneath meant little to the man or animal anymore.
“So you do know what you’ve started here then?”
She shrugged and scrambled off him. “I’m not here to start anything so don’t go getting crazy ideas in your head. I simply needed to make sure I had your attention before you did anything stupid. I’m not here because I missed you. There is an actual purpose to this little surprise reunion.”
Already missing the heat of her body pressed to his, he pushed himself to a sitting position, willing his dick to behave. “And what exactly is that?”
He stood to his full height of six foot three and loved the fact he didn’t tower over her. When he finally got inside her again their bodies would fit together perfectly. He bit back a dark smile. So much for that hard on going away. Although it was the prickling at his skin and simmering desperation in his veins he really worried about. He gritted his teeth against the oncoming pain and allowed it to wash over him. The pain of his body being denied its natural process had almost become second nature. A low growl rumbled through his chest. She had no idea the danger she toyed with by coming here, but she was about to find out.
“Kane sent me.”
While not surprised at all, it wasn’t the revelation he’d been hoping for. Anger seethed through him at the memory of his last encounter with his brother. They’d fought and it had ended badly and over a woman no less. A woman in his mind who didn’t deserve his brother’s time. When exactly had his family fallen apart? Every single one of them had found their mates only to discover nothing but heartache and trouble. Lucas and Kane had given in to mating heat. He had not.
He wasn’t sure he could walk away a second time but he had to try before he hurt her. The feral animal inside had affected the man.
“Not interested.” He turned toward the hall and headed back to his room. The mention of his brother had helped his situation a little, but he figured if she didn’t leave soon, no mention of Kane, Lara or Chey’s half-breed status would hold back his restraint to the lovely creature standing in his living room. Much more and he would need her as much as he needed air.
“Wait. What do you mean not interested? I haven’t even finished what I had to say.”
Malcolm moved in a flash, grabbing her by the shoulders and shoving her to the wall. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
/> The animal inside him clawed and cried to get out. Her scent was driving him crazy. With one hand, he grabbed both of her wrists and raised them above her head. He used the weight of his body to pin her in place before grabbing the rope tethered to the wall.
“Dammit, Malcolm. This isn’t what I came for and you know it.”
“Oh yeah?” he snarled. “Then how come I can smell the sweet scent of your arousal?” His voice came out harsh and growly—more animal than human. With the dexterity of a man who knew his way around rope, he tied first one wrist and then the other before he released his hold.
“You’re being unreasonable.”
Malcolm slammed his pelvis against hers, making sure she got the full effect of how hot her presence made him. “Am I? Really?” With her hands tied above her head, her breasts thrust invitingly toward his face. His claws protracted and he snagged the edge of her shirt with the tip. Slowly, he began to slice the offending garment away. “Tell me to stop,” he dared. The sharp tip of a claw lightly scraped across a clothed nipple.
Instead, she whimpered, the luscious sound of her submission music to his ears. He skimmed one hand down her side and pushed his fingers between their bodies. Her hot flesh seared his fingertips before he slid them under her waistband. When he skimmed the downy hair covering her mound, he imagined her all those years ago laid out before him, offering herself to him. For a brief few seconds, he circled her clit before dropping to her slick opening. Before she could utter a sound, he pushed two fingers deep inside her.
She gasped.
“You’re so damn hot and wet right now, sweetheart. I think you’d let me do anything I want to you,” he purred into her ear. His head buzzed with need so strong his vision hazed. All the while his fingers toyed with her until he hit the bundle of nerves guaranteed to send her over the edge. His teeth nipped at her neck as he worked her over nice and slow, taking care to prolong the building pleasure as long as possible. He massaged her clit and felt her chest heave as her release raced dangerously close. When her breathing hitched and perspiration broke out on her body, he removed his hand.
