Lonely Alpha

by Ranae Rose

  Jack’s bedroom. Of course. Memories from the night before flooded back to her, and she stared in surprise at the sunlight filtering through the rust-colored curtains that hung over the room’s single window. The night had passed, and she’d slept through it like a baby, lost in dream-land. A shiver zipped down her spine as a scrap of a dream teased her memory, gone as soon as she’d sensed it. The fantasy had evaporated, but she could still smell fresh sap and newly-crushed pine needles. She needed to get out of Jack’s bed.

  Swinging her feet over the edge of the mattress, she stood, stretching and pulling her .22 out from under the spare pillow. Now that the new day had arrived, bathing the mountains in light, the gun didn’t seem as necessary as it had mere hours ago. Still, she held onto it. She’d keep it handy, just in case, until she escaped the mountain and reached the safety of the little town nestled in its foothills. The first thing she intended to do was check to see if Jack’s phone was working. If it was, she’d call the police. If not, she’d hike down the mountain, making the long journey to town. Surely she’d be safe on the road in broad daylight, even if there was a criminal on the loose – she had her gun, after all. Maybe Jack would spare her a cup of coffee – or better yet, tea – before she left. Easing the lock undone, she opened the door.

  “Good Lord!” she hissed under her breath, more a plea for divine aid than a curse. She swung the door almost-shut as quickly as she dared, afraid that the sound of it latching closed would wake the sleeping monster curled on the floorboards in the room beyond. After leaning against the wall and breathing deeply until her heart slowed just a little, she dared to peer through the crack she’d left.

  The dormant beast was a mass of dark brown fur, flecked here and there with streaks of black and white. It lay on a pile of blankets against the back wall in what appeared to be a combined living area and kitchenette. Even curled into a tight ball, it was twice the size of any dog Mandy had ever known. The tip of its muzzle was just visible, tucked into its chest, and its eyes were squeezed shut. The thing looked like a wolf, or a coyote on steroids. Leave it to a crazy mountain man to have a gigantic, possibly feral and probably illegal canine like this in his living room. Mandy breathed deeply as she stared at the creature, her stomach plummeting. She was alone with the animal. A quick visual sweep of the cabin’s main room confirmed it. Unless Jack was in the bathroom – wherever that was. But no…several moments of hard listening yielded no sound, save for the steady draw-and-release of the huge canine’s breathing. Not so much as a single drop of water dripped, and Mandy’s alarm increased with each passing second.

  At least she had her gun. If the thing woke up and tried to maul her…she tried not to think about how long it might take the creature to claw its way through the bedroom door, even if she did lock it. It would probably smell her as soon as it woke up. Where the hell was Jack, and why had he abandoned her when he’d thought there was a possible criminal on the loose? Maybe he trusted his pet to protect her, but it was probably just as much of a threat to her as any other stranger. Did he expect her to wait calmly in his bedroom until he returned?

  Unfortunately, it didn’t look like she had much of a choice. After easing the bedroom door shut as quietly as she could, she collapsed onto the bed with a sigh, caressing the cold steel of her gun. What kind of mess, exactly, had she gotten herself into? She contemplated that question for quite a while as she laid there, her stomach rumbling lowly and her bladder growing increasingly uncomfortable. “I have to get out of here.” She rolled out of bed, heading for the door once again.

  The animal was still there, curled in the same pose as last time she’d looked. Not that she’d really expected it to be gone – she would have heard its heavy paws and long claws on the bare floorboards – but a tiny, optimistic part of her had hoped. Now she stared longingly past the creature, her eyes settling on the phone resting on a side table against the far wall. Maybe whatever had stopped it from working the night before had been a temporary problem, like a downed power line. She had to try.

  Turning off the safety and holding her gun at the ready as she’d seen many a TV cop do, she crept out of the bedroom and began the tedious journey toward the phone. A light sheen of sweat dampened her forehead as she kept her eyes and her gun trained on the animal, watching for the smallest sign of movement. When one of its ears twitched, her heart leapt into her throat and a tremor raced through her arms, causing the barrel of the gun to shake. After what seemed an eternity, she finally reached the phone. Breathing the world’s quietest sigh of relief, she lifted it from the receiver and held it to her ear, fingers poised to punch three very specific numbers.

  But there was no dial tone. As panic threatened to seize her, she dialed 9-1-1 anyway. Nothing happened. Just silence. She stifled a moan of disappointment as she hung up the phone and cast a glance over her shoulder at the front door. She’d leave through it, escaping to the outdoors. Surely she’d be better off walking to her car – and, if the road was still blocked – to town, than waiting around here. As she took her first step toward the exit, a pungent odor assaulted her nostrils.

  It was rich, coppery and distinct: the smell of blood. Slowly, her eyes traveled back to the sleeping canine, and from this angle, the crimson puddle seeping out from under the edge of its furry body was clearly visible. Her stomach lurched, more out of surprise than disgust. The location of the wound was hidden, but wherever it was, it had bled profusely. As she studied the floor, she saw the crimson trail that was smeared across the naked floorboards. She’d been so focused on the animal that she’d missed the evidence of its injury. Backing quickly toward the door, she escaped before the thing woke up and she found herself face to face with an angry, bloody beast.

  Outside, she breathed deeply, clearing the scent of blood from her lungs. She held her gun close as she peered around, searching the tree line for any sign of a man – either Jack or the unknown gunman who’d been prowling the woods the night before. There was no one. At least, not that she could see. Where was Jack? Worry laced through her fear. He was gone and his huge, scary wolf-dog was badly wounded… Had something happened to Jack, too?

  Maybe his pet had been injured while coming to his aid. Maybe the gunman had come to the cabin last night and there had been a confrontation… Violent possibility after violent possibility raced through her mind. Had she really been sleeping so soundly that she wouldn’t have heard a struggle? She bit the inside of her lip. Maybe. Her dreams had been deep and intense, though she couldn’t exactly remember what they’d been about.

  She had no choice but to begin the long trek down the mountain, toward town. Along the way, she’d keep an eye out for Jack. Whether or not she found him, she’d have to summon the police and an ambulance as soon as she reached civilization. He could be lying out in the woods somewhere, curled up and bleeding like his pet. Or even dead. She tasted salt and copper as she buried an eyetooth in her soft inner lip. When she thought of Jack lying still in a pool of his own blood, the taste became nauseating.

  “Mandy.” A rough voice called out to her just as she turned her back on the cabin, taking her first step toward town.

  She whirled, almost dropping her gun. She knew that voice. “Jack!”

  He stood on the porch, leaning against a rough-hewn wooden beam with his hands shoved into the pockets of his worn jeans. He looked awfully casual for someone who’d just appeared out of thin air. “Where have you been?” Mandy exclaimed, crossing the distance between them in long strides. The fact that he’d left her alone with that monster of a canine still rankled, but she was happier to see him than she would have expected. Whatever else he was guilty of, at least he wasn’t dead.

  “I’ve been here,” he grunted.

  Mandy scowled at him. “Like hell you have. When I woke up, it was just me and that colossal dog of yours!”

  He glared right back. “He’s not a dog, he’s—”

  “I don’t care what kind of wild half-breed he is,” Mandy interrupted. �
��He could’ve mauled me while you were gone, and what about the person in the woods with the gun?”

  “He’s still out there, so come inside and quit talkin’ so loud.”

  She huffed in irritation. “Does that truck of yours work?” She eyed the rusty contraption apprehensively. “Because if it does, I want you to give me a ride into town, if the road has been cleared. Your phone still isn’t working, and if there’s a criminal on the loose, we need to—”

  She stopped mid-sentence when he stepped forward and his open flannel shirt flapped at his sides. A bright spot of red had blossomed on the grey tartan fabric, and his skin was smeared with blood. “What happened to you?” she asked, the anger leaving her voice as she remembered the violent scenarios she’d been imagining just minutes ago.

  He was only slightly unsteady on his feet as he moved toward the door, frowning. “Come inside and I’ll tell you.”

  She followed him, her gaze glued to the little stream of blood that had begun to trickle down his side, staining the hip of his jeans. “Are you badly hurt?”

  When he said nothing, she snatched a handful of the flannel, pulling it aside to see for herself. “This looks bad. Were you shot?” Her voice climbed an octave or two on the last word, but she couldn’t help it. There was a small hole near the edge of his side, just below his ribs. A bullet-sized hole.

  Chapter 3

  “Keep your voice down.”

  “You need to sit.” Mandy pulled out a chair from the small table in the middle of the kitchen area.

  Jack took the seat with a sigh. “All right, I’m sitting. Now will you keep it down?”

  “Fine.” She was careful to keep her voice low. “Now tell me what happened to you.”

  “Got shot,” he grunted, leaning against the hard-backed chair as if it were a plush recliner.

  Beneath the worn tabletop, Mandy gripped fistfuls of her khaki shorts, wringing the material as she braced herself for more bad news. “Was it the person we heard in the woods with a gun last night?”

  He nodded. “That very same bastard.”

  “How…” Now that he’d confirmed her darkest theory, there were too many questions whirling in her mind to ask at once. “How the hell did that happen, and why did you leave me here with…” She glanced toward the pile of blankets. They were empty, save for a goliath-sized indent and several large blood stains. “Where’d your dog go?”

  “Wolf, not dog. And he’s around.”

  Wolf. Well, that explained the size. She glanced around uneasily, expecting the animal to appear, dripping blood. “He’s hurt too.”

  Jack nodded. “Shot.”

  “Okay. Tell me how you both got shot so we can get you to town for some medical care. And maybe a vet for the wolf,” she added, trying not to shudder as she imagined transporting the hulking creature in the bed of Jack’s truck. Hopefully the vehicle worked – no way would that thing fit inside her car. Not that it would even matter if the road was still blocked. She took a deep breath and tried not to think too much about that possibility – the thought of being stranded on the mountain with a gunshot victim and no medical help was almost enough to send her into a panic.

  “I was trackin’ that bastard with the gun,” Jack said, squeezing his eyes shut.

  He had to be in a world of pain. Sympathy warred with Mandy’s irritation as she listened to him tell his story.

  “He wasn’t quite as stupid as I’d figured. Ended up taking a few shots at me and hit me once.” He glanced down at his side. “Obviously.”

  “That’s it?” Mandy crossed her arms, leaning back against the uncomfortable chair. “You were tracking him and you got shot – that’s all you’re going to tell me? Why were you tracking him in the first place?”

  A hard gleam of exasperation flashed in Jack’s eyes as he opened them. “Well I’m not gonna let him trample all over my territory blastin’ things to kingdom come with that damn gun.”

  “Your territory? Exactly how much of this mountain do you own?” His cabin was modest – if he owned more than the small yard around it, it would be a surprise.

  Jack scowled. “This lot and about ten acres of forest land, but that’s irrelevant. This is my mountain.” By the time he finished, he was practically growling.

  “All right, all right.” Mandy pushed back her chair and rose. Clearly, he’d grown a little too attached to the surrounding wilderness. Under normal circumstances, she might have argued the point, but he was hurt. She needed to get him to town. “You’re injured, Jack. You need medical attention right away.”

  He crossed his arms, wincing slightly as he laid them across his bare chest. “Absolutely not.”

  Mandy resisted the urge to stomp a foot down on the floorboards. Of all the stubborn men she’d ever met, Jack was surely the only one who’d even dream of trying to refuse medical treatment after being shot. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve been shot. You should be in an emergency room right now.”

  “Can’t,” he grunted, meeting her gaze with a defiant stare.

  “Why not?” Nervousness tinged Mandy’s irritation. Maybe his old pick-up truck didn’t work. In that case she’d have to trek down the mountain and into town on her own to find help.

  “I don’t do hospitals.”

  She repressed an exasperated sigh – after all, blood loss had probably made him even more senseless than usual. “I don’t think you have much of a choice, seeing as how you took a bullet to the side.”

  He shook his head. “It went clean through. Must not have hit any major organs, or I’d be dead already. I’ll be fine as soon as it heals up.”

  “You can’t just wait for it to heal on its own. That would take forever, and you could get an infection or—”

  He shook his head, causing a lock of dark hair to tumble into his eyes. “I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

  She eyed him from the top of his head to his bare toes. He weighed maybe…one eighty? She wasn’t an expert judge of weight, but if it came down to it, would she be able to wrestle him into the truck? Maybe. Blood loss had to have weakened him, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to go voluntarily. But what if she hurt him? If he started gushing again, he might bleed to death. Tiny beads of sweat dampened her brow as she contemplated the dilemma. “Look, Jack – that’s not possible, and we both know it. Human bodies don’t recover from gunshot wounds over the course of a single day.”

  He grunted something that sounded alarmingly like ‘not human’, and Mandy’s worry reached an all-time high. Clearly, he was in shock. Seriously disoriented. “Of course you’re human, Jack.” Every inch of his muscular body was all man. “Now let’s get you into that truck – do you know where the keys are?”

  He growled at her. Actually growled. A part of Mandy wanted to run from the ludicrous situation and back to Nashville, but no way would she leave Jack behind, and escaping wouldn’t be easy, with or without him. She started to speak, but he cut her off.

  “If you’d stop lecturin’ me for five damn seconds, I’d explain. I’m not crazy.” He stared at her, a defiant golden gleam in his eyes.

  Mandy clamped her mouth shut. Fine. He had exactly ‘five damn seconds’ to explain, and then they were getting into the truck.

  “I’m just as much a wolf as I am a man,” he said. “A shifter. That’s why I can’t go to the hospital.”

  “Okay, Jack.” Mandy rose and laid a hand on his shoulder. He felt hot. She pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. “You’re burning up.” Clearly, his fevered brain had confused his identity with that of his huge fanged pet. “Don’t worry – we’re going to get you some help. Just—”

  “Damn it,” he huffed, snatching her hand away from his face and holding it tight within his own. “That’s normal – I have a wolf’s body temperature no matter what form I’m in. Now do you see why I can’t go to the hospital? Not that I need it – as soon as night falls and I get back under the moonlight, my body will continue repairing itself. I’ll be good as new by su
nrise.”

  Either he had a very active imagination that was being manipulated by his fever, or he was flat-out lying in an attempt to escape proper medical care. “Calm down. You don’t want to break your wound open again.” The dull, persistent pain of a tension headache had sprung up between her eyes, and she didn’t know what to do. She had to get Jack into the truck – his life might depend on it.

  “Where’s your bathroom?” she asked, shaking her head as she rose. She hadn’t had a chance to use it after waking and she needed a minute or two away from him to clear her mind anyway. He nodded toward a narrow door in a far corner of the room and she slipped inside. A couple minutes later she emerged back into the living room. “All right, Jack. Let’s talk reasonably about the hospital now.”

  He growled again, and a shiver raced down Mandy’s spine. The sound brought back memories from her dreams of the night before, causing her mouth to go slack with surprise. She hastily snapped it shut. “Please, Jack.” Now she’d been reduced to pleading. Well, if it saved his life… “Please just get into the truck with me.”

  “Mandy…” He growled her name, sounding half-feral but alarmingly lucid. “Look at me.”

  She met his bright hazel eyes. Did her desperation show in her blue ones? “Please.”

  “Look at me,” he demanded a second time.

  As she watched, his eyes flashed bright gold, only this time the brilliance remained, not fading as the seconds ticked by. One moment she was gazing into them, spellbound, and the next she still was, only…the eyes belonged to the huge canine that had been sleeping on the pile of blankets that morning. Its muzzle was a few short inches from her face, and as it panted, releasing a blast of hot breath against her mouth, something dug into the palm of her hand. Claw-like toenails. “Jack?” She fell with his name on her lips, still seeing the strange golden eyes in her mind as everything faded to black.