curse of the alpha - episode 03 & 04

by Tasha Black

  brave as she was?

  After a ride home and some dry clothes, he was feeling much better, so he decided to

  stop by Clive’s house. When he knocked on the door, Sheriff Warren came out.

  “Hey Erik, how are you, son?”

  Clive peeked out his second floor bedroom window.

  “I’m good. Is Clive home?”

  “Sure, I’ll get him for you.”

  Clive was already heading out the front door.

  “Hey, Erik,” he said carefully.

  “Hey, Clive.”

  “I’ll let you boys get to it.” The sheriff headed back into the house.

  “What are you doing here?” Clive demanded, glancing over his shoulder to make sure

  his dad was really gone.

  “I’ve had a shitty day,” Erik replied, marveling at how naturally he had used the curse word. “I figure I’ve got two ways to make it better. And you’re going to help me decide which.”

  Clive was staring at Erik’s legs, astonished.

  “Ainsley and I were thinking,” Erik continued. “That what we should do is let your dad know what happened.”

  All of the color drained from Clive’s face.

  “Or else you and your friends can stay away from the sycamore and the creek from

  now on.”

  “What are you talking about?” Clive demanded.

  “I mean that from that sycamore tree, as far as we can see in every direction belongs to me and Ainsley Connor. If anyone trespasses, we’ll tell your dad what happened

  today.”

  Clive thought about that. After a moment he seemed to decide.

  “I’ll tell you what, Jensen, we’ll clear out of that area. But it’s not because we’re afraid of you tattling. I’m sorry for what I did today. I didn’t think you’d really jump. I’m glad you’re okay. The tree is payback. It’s all yours – as far as you can see from the sycamore.

  I’ll tell the other guys it’s off limits.”

  Erik was incredulous. He opened and closed his mouth twice. The one thing he hadn’t

  expected was an apology.

  “You need any help getting home?” Clive asked.

  Erik shook his head and walked away.

  The next day at school he’d told Ainsley.

  “Erik Jensen, you are the coolest kid in Tarker’s Mills!” she declared.

  That weekend, they began building the tree house. Ainsley’s mom supplied some

  basic materials. Erik drew up a plan.

  Ainsley was really impressed. She had always been really book smart but she was

  fascinated at how Erik could use his hands to turn the plan into a real fort. He scoffed at her for making a big deal over it, but secretly her admiration made him feel great.

  They built the fort in the first crook of the branches, only about two feet off the

  ground. It was easier to reach that way and less dangerous if they made a mistake. It took the whole rest of that spring and summer to build. They gave it a real cedar shake roof and even a glass window. It was big enough for two kids to sleep in comfortably –

  they had big plans to bring their sleeping bags out and camp for night sometime.

  By the time it was done they were used to hanging out together during all their free

  time. They began to explore the woods and creek.

  One day, they found a cave near the bank of the creek. The next day they came back

  with flashlights.

  There were tons of spiders inside, and leaves that suggested an animal had lived

  there at one time. They cleaned it out and hid in there, pretending to be spies camped out in enemy territory.

  In fourth grade, Ainsley started to be pulled out of class all the time to do testing.

  They decided she was gifted. Erik would ask her in the woods what the tests were about but when she she tried to explain it, neither one of them could see how it would tell them whether or not she was smart.

  She was mystified. But Erik and Ainsley didn’t worry about it much. They painted the

  inside of the tree fort a light green and they hid flashlights, blankets and canned tuna in the cave “just in case.”

  In fifth grade, she was put in special classes with other gifted kids. She and Erik

  taught themselves to skip stones on the sparking surface of the creek. She still liked to hang out in the woods, but she had too much homework to see him every day.

  By sixth grade, Ainsley was best friends with Grace Kwan-Cortez, who was also in the

  gifted program. She almost never came out in the woods anymore.

  And the summer after sixth grade Erik hit puberty. His parents told him about the

  wolves.

  He was shocked but sort of thrilled. What boy wouldn’t want to turn into a giant wolf?

  But they also told him about Ainsley. As the only child of the alpha, it would fall to her to draw the next alpha. Her father had commanded that the boys of the pack must stay

  away from her.

  “But we’re just friends,” he’d told his father honestly.

  “It’s a dangerous time, son,” his dad said fondly. “One minute you’re just friends, the next minute you’re not. Michael Connor knows what he’s doing.”

  There was no point arguing. And there was too much else going on anyway. Besides,

  Erik and Ainsley were growing apart. He did very well in school but it was already clear that both the school and the pack were going to put demands on Ainsley that were on a whole other level.

  By high school, he could hardly remember that they’d been so close as kids. She

  would pass him in the hall with her sweet smell and her quick step, her arms clutching a stack of books, her eyes not sparing him even a glance.

  Until now.

  C H A P T E R

  8

  Erik shook his head to clear the memories.

  Sunlight still shimmered on the surface of the creek like no time had passed. But he

  was standing here, six feet tall and sweating, all grown up. And Ainsley hadn’t set foot in this place since she was eleven years old.

  And if she had her way, she never would again.

  Something twisted in his chest, and he spun around and marched back down the path

  to his house.

  There was just time to shower and then head out to patrol her house. But he had to

  hurry if he wanted to beat the sunset.

  The hot water pounded down on his sore muscles. The sadness he’d felt by the creek

  began to fade as he looked forward to patrolling. Even when he didn’t see her, he felt close with Ainsley when he trotted through the woods near her house.

  He changed and loped off through the woods to her house impatiently. The sweet

  scent of pine filled his nose.

  He stopped short when he reached the edge of the woods. There was an extra car in

  the drive.

  A Tarker’s Mills PD car.

  Clive Warren.

  The meaning behind that car in the drive hit him like a kick in the chest.

  Erik knew in his mind what she was doing was a good thing. It was the best thing, a

  heroic thing, really. And he didn’t even really want to be alpha anyway.

  But somehow he still had an overwhelming urge to burst through the door and stop

  her.

  Maybe it wasn’t the thought of losing his chance at being alpha that was bothering

  him.

  Using every ounce of self-discipline he had, Erik managed to stay in his wolf form on the edge of the woods. He took a breath and ripped his eyes from her door and loped

  back through the woods.

  She might be doing the right thing, but he knew he couldn’t be within earshot when

  she did.

  That was too much.

  C H A P T E R

  9

  T he sun was going down on Tarker’s Mills, and Ains
ley was rushing through the end of her bathing routine.

  She had cleaned the house until the last possible moment. The first floor was now

  sparkling and fragrant as well as empty. And of course she’d made sure her room was

  clean, tidy and welcoming. She even took down her Harry Potter poster.

  As she smoothed lotion on her legs Ainsley wondered how the night would go. She

  was pretty sure Clive knew what was going on, although of course he might not. He

  seemed like he’d grown up to be a pretty modest guy.

  As she slipped into her robe to head into her bedroom to dress, a shave-and-a-haircut knock echoed from the front door. Ainsley froze. He wasn’t supposed to be here yet.

  As she hesitated, the knock repeated. This time it answered itself with a two-bits

  knock.

  It was probably just some idiot who wanted more stuff out of the house. She would

  chase them away quickly and be dressed for Clive in a flash.

  She bounced down the stairs and partially opened the front door.

  It was Clive. Oh god, it was him.

  “Hey, Ainsley!” he boomed. His handsome face broke into a happy smile.

  “Hi, Clive. I’m so sorry, I wasn’t expecting you for a few more minutes,” Ainsley

  chirped. “Please come in. I’ll just run up and get dressed.”

  He walked in and they both looked at the completely empty living room and the

  archway into the completely empty dining room.

  “Wow,” Clive said. “Some place.”

  Ainsley didn’t know what to say. Clive’s family had lived in one of the 1960s split-

  levels down on the south end of town. Was it possible he was noticing the high ceilings and woodwork on the Victorian? Or was he making a joke about it being empty?

  She covered her bases by laughing and then blurting out, “I had a little giveaway

  today. I was overwhelmed by so much old furniture.”

  “Some of that might have been worth something, Ainsley,” Clive pointed out.

  “That’s true. But I felt like it wasn’t worth the time I would need to sort it all out. It makes me a little sad, getting rid of my parents’ stuff.”

  Clive nodded and she nodded back. There was an awkward little pause.

  “Why don’t you..?” Ainsley began. Then realized there was not a single chair in the

  whole house. She wanted badly to slap herself in the forehead.

  “Do you still have a picnic table out back?” Clive asked.

  “Yes!” Ainsley exclaimed. “Do you want to wait out there for me?”

  “Sure,” he said, stealing a glance down her robe and then looking away quickly.

  Ainsley couldn’t help pulling her robe a little tighter before scampering up the stairs to her room. She dressed as quickly as he could and tried hard not to think about how it was going.

  C H A P T E R

  1 0

  C live pulled out the bench at the picnic table and took a seat.

  He wasn’t really sure what was going on tonight. The house was empty and he didn’t

  smell anything cooking. And Ainsley was practically naked.

  Oh.

  Clive nearly slapped himself in the forehead. Maybe Ainsley wanted to cut to the

  chase.

  Damn.

  She smelled like heaven. He could have grabbed her and kissed her and skipped the

  awkward conversation stuff that would only make him feel dumb.

  Why did he always think of the right thing to do when it was already too late?

  Now he had to sit outside where it was hot and humid, on a hard wooden bench.

  Why would she give away all her stuff if she was going to choose him as alpha?

  Maybe she wanted them to get new stuff together. That would be nice. He hoped she

  had as much money as everyone said. He didn’t have enough money on his sheriff’s

  salary to buy her new stuff for a house this size.

  He looked around.

  There was a small yard with some flowers and a white fence. It wouldn’t be too hard

  to jump over it if the shit ever hit the fan. Clive was always thinking of this stuff since he had become a cop. It was good to be prepared.

  Of course he could also just turn into a giant wolf and do pretty much anything he

  wanted. But sometimes you wanted to stay a person.

  The back door banged and there was Ainsley.

  Wow.

  For a nerd she was a knock-out. Right now she was wearing a pink dress that was the

  exact color of a birthday cake. It was low cut and tight on her boobs.

  “You look beautiful, Ainsley.”

  “Thank you, Clive.”

  She blushed a little, just like all girls did when he told them they looked beautiful. He knew it was because he was handsome, not because he was witty or romantic.

  But it was still nice.

  He smiled back but didn’t say anything, leaving her a little off balance. Girls seemed to like that.

  “Clive, I don’t have much in the house…”

  That’s fine. We can just fuck. But I wish I’d eaten before I came over.

  “…but I do have a couple of rib eyes from the Co-op that I can cook, and a salad.

  Does that sound okay?”

  “That sounds great. Let me cook the steaks, you make the salad.”

  She looked surprised.

  “Oh no, Clive, you worked all day. Let me cook for you.”

  “I insist. Steak is kind of a specialty of mine.”

  She shrugged and they walked into the kitchen together. The bottom half of her dress

  was a little too fluffy for him to be able to see her ass.

  That was a shame.

  But he could smell that honeysuckle scent coming off her in waves.

  “Let’s see those steaks,” he said.

  He liked the way she scurried to the fridge to get them for him. When she bent down

  to take them off a low shelf his wolf leapt at the idea of mounting her.

  He slowed down his breathing on purpose and tried to keep his cool. With what he

  had planned for them tonight, he was going to need his strength. And besides, when he was alpha it would be important to have self-control.

  Ainsley turned, wearing an eager to please smile, and presented the steaks.

  He couldn’t help smiling back and praising her.

  “These look great, good job. Do you have a pan that can go in the oven?”

  She got a panicked look on her face. She spun and opened the oven to find a perfect

  pan.

  “Thank goodness. I was afraid for a second that someone might have taken it today.”

  “You let them take your kitchen stuff too?”

  “I told them they could have everything except what was in my bedroom.”

  Clive let that thought hang in the air for a minute.

  “Would you like a glass of wine?” Ainsley asked nervously.

  “Sure.” He smiled at her again.

  Instead of making her more nervous by watching her, Clive put the pan back in the

  oven and pre-heated it. He unwrapped the steaks and sniffed at them.

  Delicious.

  These were definitely expensive – he never got meat at the Co-op. He snuck a peek

  at the deli label. $34.47. Jesus. It would be fun to get used to nice things.

  She seemed pleased to find a couple of mason jars in the high cupboard. She poured

  out wine and held out a jar to him.

  Clive smiled at her and took a sip. In his opinion drinking wine was a little fruity, and he’d rather have a cold beer. But whatever floated her boat. He knocked back the whole glass.

  “Nice, Ainsley. Can I have some more? Throw a little ice in this one, will you?”

  Her eyes widened but she took his glass and did as he asked. She probably hadn’t />
  been with a guy who could hold his liquor before.

  Her boobs jiggled when she cracked the ice tray. His wolf ached to mount her. Again

  he held it at bay.

  Instead he grabbed the pan out of the oven with a towel. He threw it on the stovetop

  and turned the gas up to high, then carefully laid both steaks on it.

  They sizzled and steamed like crazy. He wished he could eat the smoke that rose from

  them it smelled so good. He did a slow count out loud to thirty then flipped them over.

  Another cloud of steam and smoke billowed out from the pan.

  Then the smoke alarm went off. The high-pitched sound was maddening. A drawback

  to having overly sensitive ears.

  “Shut it off!” he hollered to Ainsley.

  “Oh gosh, I’m sorry! Let me go take care of that,” she said as she scrambled up the

  stairs to reach it.

  C H A P T E R

  1 1

  A insley dragged the chair from her room into the hallway to help her reach the smoke detector.

  She tried waving her hand in front of it, but there was so much smoke it kept going off anyway. Finally, she settled for removing the battery.

  When it was done, she stood on the chair for an extra minute. Things were not going

  well. The only positive was that Clive seemed to like the way she looked. She hoped that would be enough.

  Ainsley dragged the chair back to her room, then walked over to the mirror on the

  dresser and looked herself in the eye.

  Ainsley Connor, you can do this.

  “Soup’s on!” Clive yelled.

  Well, it was now or never. Ainsley took a deep breath and headed back down the

  stairs.

  Clive slid the steaks from the sizzling pan onto the plates on the counter. Ainsley

  smiled at him and he smiled back warmly.

  He really was trying. And he was practically busting out of that polo shirt. That was plus.

  She grabbed the bowl and added salad on their plates.

  Clive carried the plates and Ainsley brought the wine and they went out to the back

  porch. A wall of humid air assaulted her as she stepped out the door. She was going to be a sweaty mess by the end of the meal.

  Great. Why hadn’t she thought to keep the table?

  Ainsley headed for her usual spot overlooking the garden until Clive cleared his throat.

  She looked up at him inquiringly.

  “Sorry, Ainsley, I don’t like to sit with my back to the open area. It’s a cop thing,” he added, not without a touch of pride.