by Juniper Hart
Christiana’s already waxen face seemed translucent as she stared at him.
“I… I don’t know—”
“Sure you do,” Gray went on. “You killed her during a moment of rage. You’re still young and stupid. You can’t control your shifts fully. You killed her and ran to Chase for help. He and the others did what they had to do. I know it was you, Chris. Just admit it.”
Christiana dissolved into a puddle of tears, sobs wracking her elegant frame.
“I’m so sorry!” she bawled. “I didn’t mean to! When I transformed back, she was gone! There was nothing I could do!”
“What?” Derek bellowed. “You killed that girl?”
“Shut up, Derek,” Gray chided the man. “It was an accident. Can’t you see how bad she feels already?”
Derek obliged, but it was obvious he was seething.
“You should have come to me, Chris,” Gray said to Christiana. “I could’ve helped you.”
She shook her head miserably, her eyes darting toward her father, and Gray understood what she was trying to tell him.
“He told you not to?”
Christiana nodded, hanging her head, and Gray sighed, downing his drink.
“See, that’s the problem with you, Derek,” he sighed, shaking his head. “You’re not a team player.”
Derek’s face went pale. “She’s lying!”
“No, she’s not.”
Chase had entered while they were busy arguing, and now he stood behind his father and sister, who turned to him as he made his way towards the trio.
“Dad said you couldn’t help,” he explained. “That’s why we took care of Suki ourselves and didn’t tell you. We were scared, Gray. You can’t fault us for that.”
Gray turned his sooty eyes back to the patriarch. “You do what you want without fear of reprisal,” he began, “and I suppose that is my fault as leader. I should have reined you in years ago. Now you’re just a loose cannon.”
“So what?” cried Derek. “I was doing you a favor, Gray! I know how much you have to deal with day to day. You didn’t need to worry about this too.”
Gray barely held a scoff back. “You did me a favor, huh? The same way you did Rose Bridgemont a favor?”
Everyone in the room seemed to hold their collective breaths in wait.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Derek denied, but his face told Gray everything he needed to know.
“You murdered Patricia to throw suspicion off your family. You covered up a mess, which I had to fix, and then you killed one of our own!”
The last words were filled with rage as Gray reached across to seize the smaller man by the throat, raising him fully from the floor. He began to transition, his fangs elongating in fury.
“What?” Derek squeaked. “I didn’t!”
He began to choke as Gray’s fingers closed around his windpipe. There was the distinct sound of Derek’s choking as his eyes began to pop from their sockets.
“You killed Julian Morrow,” Gray continued. “You showed an outsider our ways with no regard. You are a disgrace to us and you will pay for this.”
Derek tried to shake his head, but the exercise was useless. He was losing consciousness. Gray flung him into the fireplace and Derek screamed, but no sound came out though his crushed throat.
“You’re banished,” Gray declared. “Gone. If I catch wind of you, hear your name, see your face on a billboard, you won’t get another chance at life. Do you understand?”
Derek rolled around on the floor, consumed in flames while his children watched on in horror.
“I can’t hear you, Derek.”
“He understands, Gray! Please! No more!” Christiana screamed. “Please!”
Gray turned to the frail brunette and shook his head in disgust.
“The same goes for you two,” he said, pointing to both Van Gould siblings. “If one more breath of scandal touches the Van Goulds, you’re out on your asses, too.”
Derek lay whimpering quietly in a pile of smoldering ashes. Gray stormed for the door.
“Oh, and one more thing,” he called back to them. “Stay away from Rose Bridgemont. Even if you happen to rub elbows with her at the grocery store, I will kill you.”
He was gone then, hoping that the Van Goulds felt a fraction as terrorized as they had made Rose feel.
***
Gray checked his face in the rear-view, ensuring that there were no spots of blood on him or his clothes.
Satisfied with what he saw, he opened the door, grabbing the bouquet of baby roses from the passenger seat, and bounded towards his front door.
As he walked inside, his heart sank.
Lucy and Sadie lay on the shoe mat, their eyes downcast. Rose’s bags were packed in the hallway, but she was nowhere in sight. Lucy raised her dark head and seemed to gesture to the kitchen.
Gray slowly turned his head to where his dog had pointed him to, and he watched as Rose appeared in front of him.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, the euphoria he had been feeling instantly dying off.
“I’m leaving, Gray,” Rose whispered. “I can’t stay for one more minute knowing that you’re in danger. I can’t stay here knowing that I’m falling more in love with you with each minute and that eventually I will have to leave, anyway. I just can’t do it. I’m not strong enough for this.”
He could see her blinking back tears as she struggled to get through saying what she needed to say.
“I’m so sorry,” she gasped, her voice wobbly. “I love you and I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I can’t stay. It’s too risky for both of us.”
Gray was filled with a combination of love and amusement, but he did his best to conceal the latter.
“You don’t have to worry anymore,” he told her, drawing close to her. Rose tried to resist his embrace, but he could tell she wanted his arms around her.
“How can you say that?” she moaned. “They’re going to kill me!”
“No,” he told her firmly. “They aren’t. Julian is dead. Derek killed him in that fight. I never told you because you already had so much stress to deal with. Derek has inconspicuously left town. Someone may have mentioned that he is being looked at for a murder.”
Rose pulled back and stared at his face.
“What?” she gasped, and he nodded, gently guiding her head back to his chest.
“You’re safe,” he promised. “Just like I told you. Everything is over. You can go back to your life now, if you want.”
Rose was silent, and Gray could tell she was processing what he had said.
“Are you sure?” she demanded. “What about the others? How do you know others won’t come for me?”
“I’m certain that Derek is an outcast in his circles now,” he answered. “Killing each other is against their code.”
Again, Rose drew back and looked at him questioningly. “How do you know so much about them?” she demanded, her eyes wide with caution. “Are you one of them?”
Gray laughed boomingly. “Yes, Rose. I’m one of them,” he replied, snickering. “I’m their leader.”
She relaxed and giggled into his chest. “I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I just can’t believe it’s actually done.”
He stroked her hair lovingly.
“It’s done,” he assured her. “Now there’s nothing left to do but focus on you and me.”
As they kissed, Gray pushed aside any reservations he had.
I’m doing this for her protection, he thought. It’s not a lie if she never learns the truth.
Epilogue
Six Months Later
“I pity anyone who goes up against you in court,” Gray told his fiancée admiringly, looking at her in the full-length mirror. “I wouldn’t want to take you on.”
“You almost had that opportunity and look how you blew it,” Rose teased, turning to face him as she fastened her pearl earrings onto her earlobes.
“I think I did pretty damn good,” he replie
d, winking. “I got a ring on your finger and I got you out of criminal law, working like a slave for Peterson and Pawson, and on the side of angels.”
“On the side of angels, huh?” she repeated. “Is that what you call working for the district attorney?”
“Well,” he said, “it beats the hell out of defending white collar criminals, doesn’t it?”
Rose smirked. “I’ll give you that.”
“Are your dad and Paula still coming over for dinner tonight?” he asked.
“Yes!” she cried, clapping her hands together. “I’m really looking forward to it. I’m trying out a new eggplant recipe. I hope it goes over well.”
Rose sashayed over to him, running her manicured fingers through his dark blonde waves.
“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” she asked.
Gray pretended to look puzzled. “Um… I think you did once about six months ago when I bought you that rock on your finger.”
“Again with the ring!” she cried in feigned exasperation. “You want to return it? I have been meaning to check it out and see if it’s cubic zirconia, anyway.”
“Oh! Ouch!” Gray flopped back on the bed, grabbing his heart.
Rose hiked up her pencil skirt and straddled him. His eyes lit up like a wildfire.
“I should buy you fake jewelry more often,” he murmured, reaching for her breasts against her burgundy silk blouse. She smiled, and Gray was sure he had never seen a more beautiful smile in his life.
I’m so lucky. I must always keep her safe at any cost. She is everything to me.
Rose leaned forward and placed a sweet kiss on his lips.
“I have something to tell you,” she told him, drawing back to peer into his face. A slender finger traced the lines of his cheekbones and Gray could read nothing but pure love in her expression.
“Make it quick, because we have some lovemaking to get to,” he urged.
“I’m pregnant.”
The words hung like smog in the air. The words shocked him.
“You can’t be,” he said flatly, and instantly regretted it.
Hurt and consternation filled Rose’s face. She slid off him, her brow furrowing. “What the hell does that mean?” she snapped. “You’re claiming it isn’t yours?”
Gray stared at her, unable to speak. There are only two ways she can be pregnant, he thought. Either the child isn’t mine, or…
“Are you kidding me?” Rose roared, leaping to her feet, her face red with anger. “You’re really going to say something like that?”
He shook his head, his heart thudding wildly.
If she is pregnant and it is mine, his mind kept going, racing, that means that Rose carries the Lycan gene, too. At some point, one of her ancestors must have been a Lycan. We’re going to have a full-blooded Lycan child.
Gray’s shock turned to pure joy. He never dreamed he’d have an heir to take over as alpha one day.
“No!” Gray said, jumping to grab Rose and pull her into a hug. “I’m happy! Ecstatic! This is wonderful!”
She struggled against him, still furious by his initial reaction. “Why did you say that I can’t be?” she demanded.
He forced a laugh. “It was just an expression, baby. I didn’t mean it literally. The news was just unexpected.”
Rose seemed to calm down slightly, and she returned his hug. “Okay,” she murmured. “Maybe I’m just a little emotional right now. Are you sure you’re happy about this?”
“Yes,” he assured her, although his thoughts were an entirely different matter. I’m caught. I’m screwed.
Then Gray shook his head to himself. He was going to get married to the woman he loved. They were going to have a child.
We will cross that bridge when we come to it, he thought, and we will get over it together.
“I’m very happy.”
And he meant it, probably for the first time in his life.
***
THE END
Keep reading to discover the origin of the Birch Mountain Alphas. Also, a bonus story is included!
Discover the Origin of the Birch Mountain Alphas!
Legend of the Birch Mountain Alphas
As the legend goes, in the North Hungarian Mountains, Abel Toth and his bride Mariska were struggling to survive the unforgiving cold of 1432. Their land was barren, and they were at the mercy of a tyrant landlord who worked the couple without rest.
With food scarce and Mariska, who was pregnant and sickly, about to perish, Abel knew he must find a way to keep his family alive.
He stole off into the woods one night, determined to find a rabbit on which to feast, but soon found himself lost and empty-handed.
He encountered a small cabin nestled in the groves of the mountainside, surrounded by birch trees, and he approached it with low hopes. People were starving all over Hungary and unwilling to embrace strangers while they sank into their own despair.
Near death, Abel knocked upon the door, begging the old woman inside for assistance. He promised her anything if she would only give him a morsel to eat so he could return to his ailing wife.
She sneered at him, proclaiming that he did not have anything worthwhile for which to trade his life, and she recommended he allow himself to die.
His fierce European pride refused to let him give up—not when his beloved was waiting. He told the old woman that God would not allow for him to die, and he turned to leave. The old woman, impressed with his resolve, called him back.
“I will grant you your wish on one condition,” she told him.
“Anything,” he agreed gratefully. “I will do anything to return to my Mariska again.”
The old woman’s eyes glittered with something Abel could not identify, but he was far too bedraggled to decipher her expression.
“I will appear to you one day and you must grant me whatever I desire from your land,” she explained to him.
Abel thought of the dying farm and could think of nothing worthwhile the witch would want. He immediately agreed to the terms, and suddenly his arms were laden with a sack filled with meats, cheese, vegetables, and breads. The food was enough to save his wife and feed his tiny family for a month.
He looked up to thank the old woman with tears in his eyes, but he was already standing before his once ruined shack. It had been restored to a secure cottage, without the concaved roof and drafty holes in the mud walls.
Abel rushed to his wife’s side, finding her well and with color in her cheeks for the first time in her life.
He dropped to his knees and prayed to God, thanking Him for sending the witch to his aid.
Years passed, and the farm became fruitful. Abel and Mariska were blessed with three healthy children. Then the old tyrant landlord died, leaving the farm to his kindly daughter, who oversaw the peasants with a velvet glove.
Abel had all but forgotten the reason for his family’s turn in fortune when the decrepit witch appeared at his cottage one day.
Abel, an old man himself by this time, was shocked to see she was still alive, but welcomed her happily into his home.
“You have returned!” he announced, waving his arms about as if to show her how well he was doing.
“I have come to collect on my debt,” the ancient woman crooned, and Abel nodded eagerly. When he had made his deal with her, he had thought he wouldn’t have anything to offer her. Now he could appropriately repay her for what she had done to help him.
“As you can see, I have much to give. What would you like? A horse? A cow? Eggs? Milk? Cheese? Anything you desire shall be yours.”
The old woman smiled a toothless, mirthless grin that made Abel uneasy.
“I wish for your firstborn,” she declared, looking toward the field and setting her eyes upon Attila, Abel and Mariska’s firstborn and a strapping lad. Abel laughed, believing her to be jesting, but then he could see that she was not.
“I will not give you my son!” he decried, and the old woman’s face immediately contorted in f
ury.
“You will recant on our deal?” she hissed, pointing a long, gnarled finger in his face.
“You may have anything you wish,” he said, “but never my children!”
“That was not a condition of the deal,” the witch snarled. “I will give you one last chance to make good on your word.”
Abel folded his arms across his chest, shaking his head vehemently.
“No! Leave this place. You cannot penetrate our family with your witchcraft.”
The old woman leered, cold and terrifying. She disappeared before his eyes, leaving Abel with his heart pounding.
She will not retaliate, he thought to himself.
As he stood, he watched the crops turn to ash. The animals dropped dead in the field, and dread instantly overcame him.
He turned to seek out his family, rushing to their sides and exhaling in relief to find them safe and accounted for.
The next morning, Abel woke, his mind unclear and foggy after a strange dream, and he stared about the cottage.
The walls were splattered with blood, and the mangled corpses of his family were sprawled about the floor in tatters.
Uncomprehendingly, Abel ran to them, opening his mouth to scream. Nothing emerged but a guttural howl as he dropped to his knees.
He extended his palm to touch Mariska’s face, and suddenly he saw hair sprouting from his knuckles.
Wheeling backward, Abel touched his face, feeling a snout where his nose once was, and he rushed to find his reflection in a cracked mirror. He saw the blood of his family upon his furry face, his elongated teeth and the yellow in his eyes.
The primal animal cries reverberated throughout the Northern Hungarian Mountains as Abel ran from the horrific scene.
It was not long before Abel had retreated into the low woods of Hungary, where he could easily prey upon human flesh to satiate his insurmountable cravings, unknowingly turning dozens of others into the creature he had become with a mere scratch of his claw.
When colonization began in the New World, Abel’s descendants, the Birch Mountain Alphas, were able to shift from their wolf forms to human, and some even managed to dance in between.
They never outgrew their sensitivities to silver, wolfbane, or religious artifacts, but their numbers forged and they found packs in the most unlikely places.
