Alpha

by D. M. Turner

  He took a deep breath. “Even now, just thinking about it, I feel the bloodlust rising, and I want to kill again.” He forced it down, as disgusted by it as he was drawn to it. Tears rose in its place. “That’s the kind of man I am. A killer through and through, nothing more.”

  Brady opened his mouth to say something.

  “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!” Alison stomped into the room, moisture on her cheeks testifying to the tears she’d shed. “You’re no more a killer than the rest of us. You were put into a situation with circumstances that tore away control of the wolf. You’d lost the woman you loved to a bunch of evil bastards who deserved to die.”

  “Alison.” Her father’s warning tone seemed to go completely unnoticed. It definitely went unheeded.

  “That’s not who you are, Ian. That was the wolf, instinct. Not the man I know with a caring heart and soul.”

  “It’s all the same.” He met her gaze. “The wolf is me. I am the wolf. We’re the same. For those days, I was vengeance. I was wrong, and a lot of men died because of it.”

  “Please! Do you think any of us actually care that you ripped the throats out of a bunch of Nazi soldiers? They deserved it. They chose to follow an evil man who sought to eradicate entire peoples from the world. They chose to be part of that. I have no sympathy for them. You gave them a swifter death than they gave their victims.”

  He got to his feet and turned to face her. “I took pleasure in it. How does that make me any different from them?”

  She cocked her head and studied him. “Do you suppose those who remained at the end of the war have struggled with what they had done as you have? Do they have guilt that eats them alive? You certainly do. Do they?”

  Ian blinked. “I— I don’t know. I don’t know if they do or not.”

  “We were only following orders.” She met his gaze head on. “Does that phrase sound familiar?”

  He nodded. “That was the excuse given during the trials.”

  “Exactly. They blamed their superiors for their choice to follow reprehensible orders. They accepted no responsibility for their actions. Have you ever placed blame for what you did on someone else?”

  “No. It was my choice. My actions.”

  “And knowledge of that eats you up. The guilt is swallowing you whole. Remorse is killing you. That is what makes you different from them.”

  Ian glanced at her father, hoping for help.

  Brady smiled. “She’s right. You’re not like them, Ian. You’re a good man who lost his way for a while. The fact you strayed is destroying you. You can’t let it. You need to forgive yourself and move forward, before the devil wins and his accusations kill you.”

  He sighed then grimaced. “Have you been talking to Brett?”

  “Not about this. Why?”

  “He didn’t throw in the devil, but he said something similar a while ago.”

  “Smart man. You should listen to him.” Brady grinned.

  Ian groaned. “Please don’t tell him that.”

  The alpha chuckled.

  He glanced at Alison. No amusement had softened the hard look on her face.

  She put her hands on her hips. “Well?”

  “Well... what?”

  “Are you going to show some sense?”

  Ian frowned. “Meaning...?”

  She sighed and pinched her lips together, her eyes narrowing. “Don’t play dumb with me, Ian Campbell. You know perfectly well what I’m talking about.”

  If only. “Pretend I’m totally stupid then, and tell me.”

  “I’m not backing down.”

  “So I’ve noticed.” And that helped not one iota.

  “I’ve chosen you. I want you to father my children. I fully intend to get what I want.”

  Oh. That’s what she meant. Why hadn’t she just said so from the start? Good grief. He scowled. “I’m not a mind-reader. You could’ve said that a minute ago instead of beating around a rather large bush.” Then because he couldn’t resist teasing her, he shot his alpha a sly glance. “Do you suppose I have to?”

  Brady grinned. “If you don’t, you may end up murdered in your sleep.”

  “True.” Ian narrowed his eyes and studied her. “Especially since someone taught her to pick locks.”

  Alison folded her arms over her chest, clearly not amused. “Well?”

  He released a long, theatrical sigh. “Fine.”

  She blinked, and her mouth gaped open. Then she seemed to gather herself. “Really?”

  He nodded. “When?”

  “As soon as possible.” Her eyes narrowed again. “You better not change your mind.”

  “I have no intention of doing so. I’m all yours.” Rightness settled over him. He’d made the right decision, and that felt good. Light pushed away darkness and made shadows less threatening.

  “Fine, then.” She nodded and headed for the door. “I need to talk to my mother.”

  Brady smacked him on the shoulder when they were alone. “You’ll have you hands full with her, you know.”

  “Yeah.” Ian wasn’t about to say how much he looked forward to having her in his hands.

  * * *

  Saturday, March 17, 1984

  Ian paced on the grass off the back porch. The chill evening air danced across the tips of his fur. The full moon was minutes away, a super moon at that. He and Alison had been married that evening in front of the whole pack. Well, the whole pack, save one.

  Darrell hadn’t been there.

  Not that Ian cared. Alison was his, legally at least. By the end of the weekend, she’d be his in every way. He’d wanted to do the ceremony days before so they could be fully mated by the full moon, but Alison’s mother, Felicity, had refused to be rushed with the wedding plans. Two weeks had been rushed enough, she’d claimed.

  Already, the full moon’s song danced along his nerves, even stronger than usual, making him more restless. All he wanted was time alone with his mate, but the pack ran together on full moons. There was no escaping that reality. He and Alison would have to wait until the full moon passed to be alone.

  Brett’s grizzled brown and red form slipped around the side of the house, and he trotted to Ian’s side.

  Why does he have to get so close? Ian growled a warning.

  Brett cocked his head then lowered it and stepped away.

  That’s better. Where’s Alison?

  The rest of the pack slowly joined them, coming from either side of the house, a couple from within.

  Finally, Alison’s dark brown self exited the back door, her mother on one side, her father on the other. She trotted to Ian and nuzzled him. So reminiscent of her greeting the first time they’d met, it made his heart ache. Her scent filled his nostrils and lungs, feeding desire.

  Mine.

  Brady and Felicity headed for the forest.

  Ian turned to follow, his wife at his side.

  Before he’d taken a half dozen steps, Darrell stepped into his path and tried to herd Alison away with a hard, hate-filled look sent in Ian’s direction.

  Ian snarled, baring his teeth and pushing between his mate and the slate gray male.

  Darrell whipped around and snapped at Ian’s face, coming within centimeters of his right eye.

  Immediately throwing his full weight at the younger male, Ian latched his teeth on the first piece of hide he could reach. Darrell’s left ear and part of his head.

  The young wolf yelped and tried to pull free, doing more damage to himself when Ian didn’t let go. He lowered his head and went still as though beaten.

  Ian suspected a ruse but let him go and stepped back.

  Darrell shook his head then launched at Ian, who easily intercepted him, having anticipated such a move. He caught the wolf mid-air, his teeth firmly around the throat, and let the slate gray’s momentum carry them both until his side hit the ground with a sickening thud. Darrell tried to get up, but Ian held him down.

  The artery in Darrell’s throat pulsed a
gainst Ian’s tongue. One good bite, and he could kill the man. He growled a warning. Submit or else.

  The other wolf snarled and struggled to free himself, baring his teeth with hate in his eyes.

  Ian finished it. Blood coated his tongue. He held on until life drained from the enemy. When Darrell’s body stilled, even his heart no longer beating, Ian released him and stepped back. Idiot. He snorted and stared at the lifeless form.

  Darrell had lost his position as second in the pack to Ian when he and Brett had first joined. He should’ve known he couldn’t win. He couldn’t possibly have been delusional enough to think otherwise. Had he wanted to die?

  A soft whine pulled his gaze away. Alison came alongside and nuzzled his neck and the underside of his muzzle. Then she turned and walked away, stopping after a few strides to glance back.

  He glanced at Brady, who motioned with his nose toward Alison. Go, he seemed to say. So he did.

  Ian followed his mate into the forest, leaving the rest of the pack behind. Oddly enough, no voices raised in mourning. He stopped and glanced back. Nothing but silence.

  * * *

  Sunday, March 18, 1984

  Ian followed his mate to the cabin he’d been using, pausing to look up at the blue sky. The sun had risen about an hour before. The moon barely peeked over the western horizon, ready to go to bed until nightfall. Its music had faded until it was little more than a faint, distant whisper.

  Alison nosed the front door open then glanced back. Her tail waved slowly back and forth then she trotted inside. After a few moments, smoke from the chimney increased.

  He covered the remaining distance in a half dozen bounds and leapt onto the porch in one. When he stepped inside, Alison was already in bed with the blankets pulled high against the cold air in the cabin. He pushed the door closed and walked toward her, Shifting as he went. By the time he reached the bed, he was fully human.

  Her gaze swept over him with a hungry glint, and she smiled. The scent of her desire rose. She scooted across the bed and held up the blankets in a clear offer.

  He didn’t hesitate to slide under them. When he reached for her, she came without hesitation, snuggling close to his warmth. Desire licked every nerve ending.

  “Mine,” he whispered and kissed the top of her head.

  She giggled softly and lifted her head to look at him. “Not quite yet.” Shifting along the length of him until her mouth drew even with his, she grinned but didn’t kiss him, her mouth hovering so close he could taste it. “So? What are you gonna do about that oversight?”

  “Fix it.”

  Teasing sparked in blue eyes. “When?”

  “Now.” Ian closed one hand behind her head and pulled her the last two centimeters to cover her mouth with his.

  1984-88: Birth

  Home of Ian Campbell

  Outside Flagstaff, Arizona

  Wednesday, June 13, 1984

  “I STILL THINK it’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard.” Alison shook her head and finished plating lightly-seared beef heart and liver, moving about the kitchen of their one-room cabin with familiar efficiency. Since they’d married in March, she’d made herself completely at home.

  Ian gritted his teeth. Food was the last thing he wanted right that moment, but he’d have to settle for it. What he wanted wasn’t available. Yet. He forced his mind back to the topic at hand before he frustrated himself even more. “We don’t have much choice. Your parents are unavailable, and your father asked me to oversee tonight’s full moon run in his stead, just as I did three years ago when the full moon coincided with your mother’s heat. I can’t let him down.”

  “I know.” She set heaping plates on the small table then put both hands on her hips. “But he didn’t expect me to go into heat this soon. I’m earlier this year than I have been in the past. My heat doesn’t usually start so close to my mother’s. My parents have never run with the pack when she’s in heat. I haven’t either. My father never allowed it, probably with good reason.”

  “Your heat has just begun.” And it had already put him more on edge, though he’d tried to hide it. He’d just have to keep it together, and cling to self-control, until she was ready. “It’ll be okay.” He wasn’t sure which of them he was trying hardest to convince.

  She snorted. “Yeah, right. Tell me that tomorrow morning after a night of bickering, arguing, and probably all-out fights.”

  Ian chuckled. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit melodramatic?” He went to her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders from behind, nuzzling her hair. “The pack knows you belong to me. They know where things stand and won’t make a move on you or fight over you.”

  Alison leaned against him. “I hope you’re right. I have a really bad feeling about this. I wish you’d delegate responsibility to Brett so we could stay in and away from the others tonight.”

  “Things have gone smoothly the past few years. They should go just as smoothly tonight, especially since Darrell isn’t here to cause a problem. He’s the only one I would’ve worried about.” He frowned.

  Darrell had challenged him three months prior for the right to be Alison’s mate. His death hadn’t set entirely well with Ian, but he’d given the man a chance to admit defeat. Darrell had been unwilling to submit, so Ian had killed him. Harsh and brutal, but werewolves couldn’t always afford to be otherwise.

  She turned in his arms and gave him a dubious frown. “I really hope you’re right.” She sighed and stepped away, moving out of his reach. “We better eat. The pack will be here in less than an hour.”

  Ian dropped into a chair at the table then waited for her to join him. He said grace, and they ate in silence. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure how he would handle the run with the pack. He’d never had to deal with a full moon under the current circumstances.

  * * *

  A short howl announced Brett’s arrival, probably with the rest of the pack in tow. Ian and Alison left the cabin to join them. She dragged her feet in a way that would be obvious to everyone. Ian slowed to wait for her then nuzzled her to offer encouragement. Everything would be fine.

  Right.

  A few hours later, he’d changed his mind. The others, except for Brett who had the sense to keep a safe distance, crowded Alison as they ran and hunted. She growled at a few who bumped into her, casting Ian scathing looks each time. This is all your fault, he could almost hear her thinking.

  Ian reminded himself at least a dozen times that such behavior was normal when the pack ran together. They weren’t more physical than usual. Running, bouncing, bumping, jostling, and brushing against each other was inevitable, particularly with a pack that was in close quarters, like when running between trees or down game trails.

  The constant reminder grew increasingly thin as the night wore on, especially in light of the fact a few of the others had gotten grumpy as the moon traveled across the sky, snapping at each other for infractions that normally would’ve gone unnoticed. No outright fights yet. If Graham and a couple of the others didn’t stop nosing so close to Alison, that would change.

  Ian finally pushed between Alison and the others and snarled at anyone who got too close. Graham, who ranked two below Ian in the pack, was the slowest to respond by moving away. A hard look entered his eyes that raised Ian’s hackles even more. He’d been with Brady since the founding of the pack, so he had a special place in the alpha’s heart. Ian didn’t want to kill him if he didn’t absolutely have to. He bared his teeth even more prominently and raised the hair along his spine.

  The other male finally yielded.

  Between the challenge and Alison’s especially strong scent, Ian had a hard time backing down even when the threat had passed. The continued proximity of the pack wore on rapidly-fraying self-control. The urge to remind the pack who she rightfully belonged to grew stronger by the minute.

  She brushed against him and halted to look around, flattening her ears and growling at a couple of wolves who ventured too close.

 
Ian growled at them and pressed against his mate. Mine. Placing a paw over her hips, he mounted her, his gaze on Graham, who was the main threat.

  Alison snarled and whipped around, freeing herself at the same time she turned and sank her teeth into Ian’s shoulder. Canine teeth dug into flesh, sending instant pain down his leg and through his torso.

  He jumped sideways, wrenching free and tearing flesh away.

  She snapped, growled, and snarled, almost frothing at the mouth.

  Ian raised his head away from her teeth as he backed away.

  She whirled and ran into the underbrush. The sounds of her retreat soon died.

  Good grief. Just how big of an idiot could one man be? What had he done?

  He took a step to go after her, but pain halted him in his tracks. She’d meant business and done a number on that shoulder. It would heal, but not fast enough for him to give chase and grovel for forgiveness. Not that he’d let anyone see him do such a thing.

  Graham stepped closer, head cocked.

  Ian bared his teeth and warned him away. If you think I’m too weak to defend myself and my position in the pack because I’m injured, you better think again.

  The other wolf backed away.

  After a few seconds of stare-down, Brett distracted everyone with a new game. He slammed into Graham and play-bowed in invitation. Then he did the same with other members of the pack. Before long, all of them were involved in a rough-and-tumble game of tag and stick-keep-away.

  Brett stopped at one point and met Ian’s gaze. Then he pointed his nose in the direction Alison had gone and gave Ian another meaningful look.

  Ian ducked his chin once in a brief nod then turned and limped after his mate. He had a lot of groveling to do.

  He should’ve listened to his mate and stayed home.

  By the time he reached their cabin, the wound to his shoulder had closed and stopped bleeding. In another hour, it’d be hard to tell he’d gotten hurt. Being a werewolf came with a few advantages, even if some of the disadvantages were difficult to take at times. Like listening to instinct and doing something so stupid that your mate might never speak to you again.