Taming the Alpha

by Mandy M. Roth

  A crash of thunder so loud it made my ears ring shook the building around us, the table under us, and caused my knives to slide on the table.

  Oh…thank God.

  It was really hard to keep my cool as unprecedented tears flooded my eyes, making me quickly blink to hold them at bay. I didn’t cry. Wouldn’t ever cry again. I had done that enough when my parents had died. That wasn’t who I was now, but the relief of not being...alone...was so overwhelming. Ricocheting bolts of thunder began sounding above, each one ten times more fierce than the one before. My lightning. The power was violent enough to shake the walls, but not the ground as hers—the woman with the answers—had.

  Her lips merely curved, chuckling quietly while her head tipped back, as if she could see the lightening from inside the building. Staring up at the ceiling, she crooned, “And you are powerful.” Her fingers ticked on the table in time to the crashes outside before her protective gaze slid back to mine. She shook her head slightly, her tone whisper soft, barely heard over the ruckus of my power. “Don’t cry in front of them, child. Someone as powerful as you should not have a weakness. Not in front of the Demons and Vampires.”

  I jutted my chin in defiance. “I don’t cry.”

  “Keep it that way.” She stood, gesturing for me to stand. “Let’s go. We have much to speak about, but not here.”

  Grabbing my knives, I moved fluidly to my feet. I barely felt the effects of the alcohol any longer with the use of my power. “I still want answers.”

  Pure command. “I’ll give them.”

  Chapter Three

  I wasn’t human. I had known that forever, born this way.

  But now, I knew exactly what I was. It had taken three months to get caught up on all things ‘me’, but I had gained extreme knowledge under Callie’s tutelage.

  First, there was an actual name for what I was.

  I was Valkyrie. Not just a freak of nature. And there were loads more Valkyries. The majority of them lived just outside Chicago, IL in one killer-awesome mansion inside the city of Tosas. The crazy part was, before my parents had died, I had lived a whopping thirty miles from this place. Now, I lived with the Valkyrie for the summer, away from my foster parents, where they lived in Chicago, my eighteenth birthday just having passed. My foster parents thought I was at an enrichment summer camp for intellectual college bound teens per the fabulous ‘brochure’ one of the Valkyrie’s had created.

  Instead, I was continually learning about the unground world of the Valan. There were a total of eight factions. Four for men, four for women. One created to the likeness of the other, even though ‘matings’ didn’t always occur with a like-to-like faction, hence what Renner had been doing—testing me to see if I was his mate, even though his faction was Demon. Only the male knew, which I thought was entirely heartless, but I was now warned. Unless I wanted my forever mate, it was best not to let the male population of the Valan have skin contact. The only consolation to the ‘mating’ fact was if I got their Vow not to test me. A Vow by a Valan was a willed pact, unbreakable. A Vow worked both ways for men and women.

  The men: Demons, Angels, Warlocks, and Shifters.

  The women: Vampires, Valkyries, Witches, and Mermaids.

  Our population to the humans was laughable, hence why there was now a law stating Valan could no longer fight and squabble with one another. The world was changing with technology, so it was better to have a united atmosphere within the factions. Protectors of each other, and even if not everyone agreed with the new law, it was strictly enforced.

  There was also a bonus—once I hit twenty-five years old, I would officially stop aging.

  I was immortal.

  As long as my head wasn’t chopped off.

  No wonder I never got sick a day in my life.

  “Drinking again?” Callie muttered, appearing utterly frazzled. Her hands were messing with hair constantly. She stood in front of me where I sat in the stone mansion’s large cafeteria. I had taken a post in the corner of the room, the best to see everyone. Swiping at a loose lock of golden hair, she blew out a heavy, relaxing breath. “I need you at your best today.”

  Taking another sip of my whiskey, I shrugged. “I’m fine.”

  Her tone was sharp. “You’re my personal bodyguard. That position wasn’t handed out lightly. You can’t be utterly sauced and do your job effectively.”

  I snorted softly, twirling my glass on the table. “I was given the position because I kicked all your guards’ asses.” I rolled my eyes, my attitude souring. “Except for you.” She had gotten in the ring with me and royally kicked my ass. I blamed it on how many magical tattooed bands wrapped her wrist, one for each hundred years she had been alive. There were many thin bands crawling up her arm, her position as the Valkyrie queen reasonable. I tipped my head, my manner grumpy. “Queen Clover.” I despised calling her that, having become friends with my mentor, but she had told me I had to in front of Valan, so I played along, still learning the ropes.

  She cast a quick warning glance. “Just behave today.”

  “I will,” I mumbled, downing my glass. Today was the beginning of a convention of sorts for all the factions, held here at the Valkyrie mansion. They were to discuss the possible construction of other mansions near here, keeping everyone close, instead of spread across the United States of America as they were now—Callie owning enough land to make it possible. Bolts of lightning were periodically rattling the roof overhead as Valkyries prepared for the other high ranking officials to arrive. “What time’s the meeting again?”

  “Eleven.” She messed with her hair again, glancing about the room. “They should be arriving sooner, though.”

  Watching her, my lips twitched. “You look fine.”

  Her face scrunched and her spine straightened. “Of course, I do.” She snapped her fingers at me as she began walking away, down the stairs from this raised section of tables, barking, “And quit drinking so damned much.”

  I merely poured another half glass of my liquor and sat back in my solitude. I began to watch the show when individuals I didn’t recognize entered through the doors, arriving early for brunch being served. Callie greeted all of them graciously, the room swiftly filling with Valan.

  ***

  Having snuck out the backdoor to use the facilities, I slipped back inside, weaving my way through the tables, and ignored the glances I received from my fellow housemates sitting up in this section. I wasn’t your typical Valkyrie. Most had a lighter shade of hair and wore bright colors. My hair was black. I wore the color black, teamed with a few splotches of bright color. Like the simple teal t-shirt that I wore under my leather jacket, my skirt pleated black, and ultra-short and punk to go along with my stylishly ripped black hose and knee high black boots. My make-up matched with heavy eyeliner and a touch of pink lip gloss. I liked to think of myself as the new generation of Valkyrie.

  My brows scrunched, my feet almost faltering when I saw a man sitting at my table. He was handsome as sin, black hair spiked roguishly in disarrayed angles, expressive dark eyes, his massive frame sitting reclined on the chair, utterly at ease in his black leather attire. I hadn’t seen him in the masses when others began to arrive, but there had quickly become too many for me to watch over all of them.

  He was also drinking my whiskey.

  My jaw clenched in frustration. Stopping to sit on my chair, not glancing at him, I stared down at the hordes talking loudly. It was almost time for brunch to be served at the buffet lining the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the forest. “Did I invite you to sit with me and drink my liquor?”

  Also not peeing at me, he took another sip from my glass before delicately setting it next to me. He ignored my question to ask his own. “What’s your name?”

  Picking the bottle of whiskey up, I refilled my glass. “Lana Claire.” I saw no current reason not to tell him. “My question now?”

  He shrugged a shoulder under his leather jacket, his own eyes still out on the crowd. �
�No one should drink alone.” His gaze did flick to me and I could feel him scanning my profile. “You’re Valkyrie?” When I merely nodded, taking a deep drink, he flicked a finger at the tables a few feet away next to us. “Why aren’t you sitting with your friends?”

  “They’re not my friends.” I cracked my neck again. “If you don’t mind, I actually do prefer to drink alone.” I tipped my head to the mingling Valan on the ground floor. “You should probably go back down there.”

  His finger merely tapped on the table before his hand snaked out, quickly grabbing the glass I had set down. Taking another drink from it, his regard returned to the crowd. “I prefer my solitude, too.” He said nothing else, only continued to drink from my glass every so often, both of us sitting in, what turned into, companionable silence.

  Until curiosity got the better of me. “Your name?”

  His lips twitched. “You are new.” He refilled the glass we were using, his dark eyes glancing at me under thick lashes. “I’m King Jerome.”

  Taking the opportunity given and not showing my surprise, I scanned his face in slow increments. “The King Warlock.” I knew the names, just not the faces yet. Done with my careful perusal, I dipped my head to him once. He was too good looking for his own good. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  He merely lifted a brow, also taking his own unhurried survey of my face before looking back out to the masses, sipping on the whiskey. “I’d heard a rumor there was a new Valkyrie.” A quick glance at me, back to the crowd. “That you?”

  I shrugged a shoulder, not commenting.

  He pushed the glass across the table to me. “You were raised by humans?”

  “The rumor mill reaches far,” I muttered, absently taking a sip. The majority of the Warlocks currently lived in California. Sighing quietly, I grumbled, “Why the hell does this seem to be a point of interest for everyone?”

  His attention altered to mine, his words quiet. “Our children are sacred.”

  It only took a moment for me to understand, and I flinched with it. A horrible sign of weakness, but I couldn’t stop it. Clearing my throat, I quickly peered away. My biological parents hadn’t wanted me. Had tossed me aside. Not even to the Valan, but to the humans. It was just another horrible reminder of how cold my heart was. “They may have had their reasons.”

  He snorted softly, a quiet growl to his tone, an undercurrent of his power. “Whoever they are, they broke our laws. Our most sacred one at that. If they’re ever found, they’ll be judged accordingly.” When two Valan factions mate and produce a child, the baby was either what mom was or what dad was, so my mom, if she were still alive, was definitely Valkyrie.

  Rolling my head on my shoulders, I slid further down my chair and tried to relax, sharing my drink occasionally, and not furthering the discussion. However, I froze when my palm accidently brushed his when we both grabbed for the bottle. Quickly, I jerked my hand back. Not peering at me, his lips twitched as he lifted the bottle, refilling our glass, stating coolly, “Afraid to find your mate?” He hadn’t used his power to test me.

  “Screw off,” I grumbled. “I’m young.”

  “How old are you?” he asked, glancing at my covered wrists.

  “Eighteen.” I pulled the sleeves of my leather jacket lower.

  He had paused with the glass halfway to his lips before it continued on, taking a sip. “As in, double digits? Nothing before the eighteen?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  He chuckled quietly, staring at the glass in his hand. “In human terms, you’re not even old enough to drink this.”

  “Good thing I’m not human,” I muttered, carefully taking my glass from his hand and resettling myself on my chair. “How old are you?”

  “Far past double digits.”

  Loved the none answer. “You’re that old?”

  “Any Ruler is.” His lips curved. “You should be careful. While the young are invaluable to us, they tend to have hard lessons to learn within our society.”

  “Duly noted,” I mumbled, peering back out to the crowd. I flicked an absent finger to a red-haired woman who had been speaking with Callie for a while. “Who’s that with Queen Clover?”

  He didn’t even look. “Queen Nilkos.”

  “The Queen Mermaid,” I murmured, seeing they were fairly decent friends, their closeness apparent. My gaze scanned the crowd further with another finger flick. “And the black haired women next to the large man with silver hair in the middle of the buffet line?” The buff man’s hair was gorgeous, shimmering deep platinum.

  He tapped his fingers on the table while placing his chin on his other hand, merely watching me with a flittering of amusement etching his stunning features. “The woman’s Queen Willow and the man’s King Haven.” The Queen Vampire and the King Shifter. His brows rose, his tone playful. “Anyone else you see of interest?”

  My brows furrowed. It now felt like a challenge to find the remaining Royals right away. My gaze racing over the crowd, stalling on a woman with auburn hair surrounded by a few others listening to her attentively, I flicked my finger, muttering, “That’s Queen Jasmine, right?” The Queen Witch.

  After a quick glance in that direction, he nodded his head once, chuckling quietly. “Two more to go, Ms. Claire.”

  I wrinkled my nose at him, my attention zooming across the congregating mass, only to stall on a man laughing as he spoke with a few others. Their group had already gone through the buffet line. Half stood while they ate, the others sitting comfortably on a long table. The breath inside my chest froze for a moment, an entirely odd sensation, but the man was smoking hot. At least six and a half feet tall, he was built so the black designer suit he wore tugged deliciously at his biceps. His silver dress shirt fit perfectly over his chest, one hand resting casually in his black dress slacks while he appeared to sip on coffee, listening to the others. His hair was white, a brilliant white of twirling loose curls down to his shoulders. His face sunkissed, tan against the brilliance of his hair, his white brows thin slashes over his brilliant blue eyes and a straight nose with sharp cheekbones to extenuate his defined jaw line. His lips were plush and deep red. Everything about him was utterly striking and magnificent. Just like the man next to me.

  I flicked an absent finger to him, blinking once. “That’s King Sephove?” The King Angel.

  King Jerome’s eyes flicked to where I was pointing, then he laughed abruptly, deep and booming, before peering back to my startled eyes. He shook his beautiful head. “That’s King Balar.” A flicked finger, his amusement apparent at my shocked expression, pointing to a man with golden hair clear across the room. “That would be King Sephove.” Apparently, the actual King Angel.

  My brows scrunched, gazing at the white-haired man. “That’s the King Demon?”

  King Jerome snorted, the sound entirely too amused. “Don’t let appearances fool you.” A gentle shake of his head, another sardonic snort. “He is not as pure as he appears.”

  “Apparently,” I muttered, but I went absolutely quiet inside when captivating ice blue eyes flicked in my direction. He began to glance away, but jerked back, seeing I was staring at him. Not moving my mouth, I hissed under my breath, “How the hell can someone look like that and be a Demon?”

  “All the better to suck the life from you,” King Jerome murmured softly, refilling our glass, also flicking his gaze in the direction I was held immobile in. His amusement only increased when he saw King Balar whisper in the ear of the man standing next to him. Then he began maneuvering in a fluid...Christ...stalk through the tables, heading directly our way, his gaze alternating from me to King Jerome, who had plastered a serene expression on his face. “And, here he comes. My very,” complete sarcasm, “best friend.”

  Lifting the glass, his dark eyes held mine. “Fair warning. He’s a stuck up prick, and mercy is not his strong suit. He knows he’s an ass and he doesn’t care.”

  I merely hummed, my head cocking, watching as the King Demon gracefully moved up the stairs
, his gaze flying over the other Valkyrie, who quieted when he weaved through their tables. Quietly, ever so slowly, his attention slid to the man across from me, a white brow arching gradually as he came to a stop at our table at the end of the balcony. His voice was a deep timber, but quiet against any eavesdropping. “Lurking in the shadows again, I see.”

  King Jerome smiled. “It’s better than living in them.”

  King Balar’s lips curved up on one side, not commenting, before his gaze slid back to mine, holding, utterly captivating even closer, the color so light against his honeyed skin tone. Both his brows lifted, his voice still quiet, but full of arrogance. “Who the hell are you?” Those ice blue eyes began a gradual creep down my body, taking in every aspect of me. His nose crinkled the barest bit as he slowly unbuttoned his suit jacket to fluidly sit on the only remaining chair across from me. Ice blues, just as gradually rising back up, flew over my clothes. “I haven’t seen you before.”

  I lifted a black, thin brow. “You know everyone?”

  His gaze slammed on mine, my entire being freezing inside with the calculating intelligence hooded beneath his thick black lashes. “Yes.” Not asking, he took the glass before me, taking a slow sip, watching me over the rim before lowering it. “You must be Lana Claire.”

  I snorted softly, peering away from those eyes, staring out to the throng. “And you’re King Balar. Lovely to meet you.” I waggled a pointed finger at the crowd. “The pleasantries are done. You can rejoin your group.” And stop drinking my liquor. I snatched the bottle, and then held my hand out for the glass, flicking my gaze back to his.

  Not even peering down to my hand, he still carefully sat it on my palm, easily maneuvering around touching my hand. His white brows cocked, not leaving the table, purely arrogant as he watched me refill my glass, take a sip, then scoot it to King Jerome. “You prefer him for a drinking partner?”