Taming the Alpha

by Mandy M. Roth

Chapter Four

  Dahlia burst through the door and slammed it shut behind her.

  Wallace, resting on his pallet, struggled to his feet. “What is it? What’s wrong? I’ve never seen you so scared, girl.”

  Dahlia shook her head, leaning back against the door. Her heart felt erratic as her breath. Her dad came close, wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and guided her to a stool. He poured her a cup of water and sat beside her.

  “I was just about to blow out the candle. You ‘bout gave me a heart attack.”

  She took a sip, forcing her nerves to calm down with little result. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I just felt like the hounds of hell were chasing me.”

  He nodded, waiting for her talk without pressuring her. “You’re safe now. I’m glad you came back tonight. I worried about you being alone in the dark with that man. Did he do something to you? Should I go out and kill him right now?”

  She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. She wanted to laugh at his protectiveness thinking he could take on a Renegade by himself, but she couldn’t. “He didn’t hurt me.”

  “What then, baby girl?”

  “It’s just…I know what he wants now. A better idea anyway.”

  “Tell me,” he said quietly.

  “He…he wants to turn us into Renegades. I’d like to think he’s crazy, but I know he’s not.”

  Wallace sat in silence, allowing her to catch her breath. “Don’t tell the others. They’ll kill him for sure.”

  Dahlia looked up at him. “Shouldn’t they? Shouldn’t we be afraid of him? Of turning into something you’ve told me helped destroy the world? I was wrong. I shouldn’t have stopped them in the first place.”

  “Saving a life is never wrong. Don’t ever feel guilty about that. You did the right thing. You did what you were raised to do.” A sudden coughing spell took him. His shoulders shook as he hacked and wheezed. “I don’t know what to think anymore. Maybe we were wrong about them being our enemies. What else did he say?”

  “He said something is happening to us, to the Homo sapiens as he put it, like he wasn’t human but more. He hasn’t seen any children. Anywhere. That we are dying out and not reproducing but he doesn’t know why. He wants to save us.”

  Wallace scratched his chin and propped an elbow on the table. A faraway look crossed his face. “He’s right. I’m not sure there have been any children born in a decade or more. If there were, we haven’t seen them. You and Jacob were the youngest of all. I thought for the longest time that they just couldn’t survive, that we’d made the world into a place that ate its young. But life finds a way. You need to go back tomorrow and talk more.”

  “It scares me.”

  “What?”

  “Change. I like who I am. I don’t want to become someone else.”

  Her father put his hand on her shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. “That’s why you have to go back to him. We need to know more, and only he has the answers. He trusts you. He will talk.”

  ***

  “You must be a glutton for punishment. You keep coming back for more,” Connor said. He stood with his fingers laced through the chain links, watching her open the gate.

  “Maybe I don’t want your death on my conscience,” she muttered, opening the door to let him out.

  “I think you’ve got a crush on me. You don’t have to admit it. I can tell by the way you look at me.”

  Dahlia planted her hands on her hips as she watched him walk away. She glared at his back and waited for him to return.

  A few minutes later he was back and stopped at the pump. He slowly pulled his shirt up and over his head. It seemed to take forever until he was free of the garment.

  “I do not have a crush on you, and the fact that you think that tells me you haven’t been around many women.”

  He raised an eyebrow, managing to look charming and asinine all at the same time. Maybe it was the crooked smile that did it. “I’ve been around enough to know.”

  Connor primed the pump and began bathing off. “Shit. That’s cold.”

  “You’re the one crazy enough to bathe in it.”

  “It’s better than coffee. I haven’t had that in years.”

  “I wouldn’t know.” She crossed her arms and watched as he washed his face and hair, his chest.

  “I could really use a full bath. You don’t mind if I strip all the way down.”

  Dahlia waved her hand, feeling a sudden quickening in her pulse. “Be my guest. If you’re crazy enough to want to bathe in the cold, go ahead. I don’t care.”

  “And you’ll watch to make sure I don’t try anything, right?” he said, grinning like an ass.

  “Of course. I take my duties seriously.”

  He unbuttoned his faded jeans. “I never doubted that you did. Don’t look. There might be shrinkage.” Turning around, he spared her the sight of his pubic area but left his buttocks exposed as he stripped the pants off with his boots.

  “I don’t even want to know what that is…” She thought her pulse out of control before. Now it seemed her blood had reversed flow from her heart and brain, pooling in the center of her body with deep, hard throbs. A strange ache pulsated in her belly.

  Was this what men were supposed to look like? Deeply carved with muscle, silky skin stretched taut over hardened flesh?

  “You got any soap?” he asked over his shoulder.

  “No.”

  “How about something to dry off with? It’s cold as fuck out here.”

  “You’re the numbskull bathing in this weather. Just a minute,” she said, dragging her bag out of the pen to retrieve one of her blankets.

  “Just thought you’d appreciate me clean.” He stopped washing off and turned as she approached. Dahlia carefully kept her eyes focused on his face. He held her gaze and took the coverlet from her. With slow deliberation, he wiped his chest and arms, his face. Everywhere.

  “You’re full of yourself,” she managed to say. Torn between not wanting to show fear and running her ass back to town, Dahlia rooted to the spot as he bent and finished drying.

  “You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he said in a low timbre voice.

  She lifted her chin. “I’m not.”

  “I can see you are.” He reached up and dragged a finger down the side of her neck. Goosebumps erupted down her shoulders. “Your pulse is pounding.”

  “Why shouldn’t I be afraid? You’re not human. I’ve got every reason to be afraid of you.”

  “You’re more afraid of what I do to you.” He placed his fingertips against her collarbone, feather light, as if she were a deer ready to bolt. “I wouldn’t hurt you.”

  She swallowed hard. “I don’t know you. You could be a liar. Plenty of people are.”

  “And that’s why you keep getting so close? I think it’s more than that. You’re fascinated.”

  She laughed, but it sounded forced, even to her. “Get over yourself.”

  “Not until I get over you.” He grabbed her wrist, keeping her from escape. She grabbed his hand and pried at his fingers. He gave her a pull, bringing her flush against his damp, naked body.

  She gasped in outrage, planting her hands on his chest. His belly jerked. “I like it when you touch me like that,” he murmured.

  Dahlia looked up at him, prepared to blast him into oblivion with a tirade, but stopped. A bizarre impulse possessed her to find out what it would be like to kiss him. She knew he was teasing her, but she’d never experienced any pleasure with a man. He was doomed and she knew it. She could give in to her radical idea of trying to get pregnant by someone not from the town, keep her secret, and maybe before she gave birth, they’d have someplace new to live.

  She stopped fighting him, slipped an arm around his neck, and yanked him down for a kiss. She mashed her lips on his, and he went hard as a rock. She freed his mouth and looked at him. “You started this. You gonna finish it?” she asked, doing her best to look up at him sexily and fake a bravado she didn’t f
eel.

  A glazed look came over his eyes. His lids drooped and his breathing became heavy. “You’re stranger than I thought,” he growled, walking her backwards until she felt the cage behind her back.

  “We don’t have a lot of time. You never know when someone is going to come around on patrol,” she said.

  “Not a problem,” he said, snatching her pants down her legs until she was naked from the waist down.

  She was doing something she’d never done for fun. Pain had been her only experience, and she thought it would be similar to that this time. The end goal—if it happened—would be worth it.

  He hooked his hands under her thighs and lifted her off the ground until their groins synced up. She was disconcerted to discover she was wet down there. Was that supposed to happen?

  His cock slipped through her damp folds, moving unerringly to the center of her pussy. “You sure about this?” he gritted out, pained at holding back.

  “Sure. Go ahead and do it,” she said, stiffening as the delicious slide became a poke. The poke became a stretch as his cockhead nudged the tender edges of her hole. Her thigh muscles strained like a guy-wire. His hands dug into the cheeks of her ass, and he plunged into her body in a liquid smooth motion.

  She sucked in to yell and he smothered her mouth in a kiss. His tongue found her tongue, expertly dancing and coaxing her to relax as his hips settled in the crook of her body.

  Fucking hurt—there was no getting around that, apparently. She was stretched so tight it was a wonder she hadn’t torn when he’d filled her up. Dahlia bit his tongue and he pulled back, looking at her with a mixture of confusion and arousal.

  “You…make me…question your...motives,” he dragged out as he ground against her clit with his pubic bone.

  The movement shocked her. Tendrils of pleasure erupted along her nerves. She clutched his shoulders, digging her fingers into the silken flesh. She moved a hand and pulled his hair, keeping his head back far enough he couldn’t kiss her again. That was too intimate for her and she knew it. Better to keep slightly aloof so she wouldn’t be hurt any more than necessary.

  “What motives?” she said.

  He made a punishing thrust, rocking her upwards. “Don’t be coy. You want something from me, don’t you?”

  Dahlia bit her lip, closing her eyes as the piston-like movement rubbed a sensitive spot inside her core. He didn’t fail to notice. He moved again, rubbing the rigid flesh until the fleeting pleasure exploded into a tsunami. She bit back a moan, struggling to catch that sensation and hang on to it.

  Connor stopped suddenly, looking her in the eyes. “You’ve never done this before, have you?”

  She flexed the muscles in her pussy, grasping for more. She nodded, gnawing the inside of her lip, feeling like she could pass out from heavy breathing.

  He pulled his cock from her body with a wet, smacking sound. Instant shame washed through her when he dropped her feet on the ground and had the nerve to look disgusted. Was it disgust? She wasn’t sure. She replaced the guilt with anger and yanked her pants up as she ignored the uncomfortable wetness between her legs. She knew she’d been a moron acting on an impulse, and this proved it. Hell, being reckless had gotten her into this entire mess. She knew she needed to think before acting.

  Connor walked back to his clothes and redressed as if nothing had happened. His ignoring the situation stung even more, spiraling her anger at her own stupidity that much higher. If she could crawl into a hole, she would.

  Connor wiped himself off with the coverlet she’d handed him and tossed it back to her as he stuffed his semi-hard erection back in his pants.

  “Too bad Eddy took my supplies. I could use a change of clothes.”

  If he was going to pretend nothing had happened, so could she. She frowned. “Eddy took your shit? He didn’t say anything about it.”

  “He wouldn’t. I had some good stuff in there. Clothes. Bread and cheese.”

  “Bread?”

  “Hard bread. The bottom had a little mold, but it was still good. We harvest our own wheat and yeast.” He ran his hands through his hair. Narrowing his eyes, he said, “You’ve never had bread? How old are you again? Maybe I should have found that out before I tried to fuck you.”

  Heat suffused her forehead and cheeks. “I stopped counting after I got boobs. I’m not a kid if that’s what you’re getting at, and I’m not a virgin either. It’s not like I can go to the store and buy what I want.”

  Connor laughed, making her blush harder.

  Dahlia pursed her lips and scrunched her eyebrows. “It’s not funny.”

  He chuckled under his breath, holding his belly. “You’ve been deprived. There’s more where I come from. You’d think you’d died and gone to heaven.”

  She kicked the dirt, pretending to punt his head. “Yeah, well, that asshole’s kept it all to himself. We’re supposed to distribute our hauls for the community.” Dahlia looked back at town, wondering what else was going on that she didn’t know about. She’d followed the rules for so long, it hadn’t occurred to her that maybe she and her dad were the only ones.

  ***

  She was cute as fuck when she was mad. Connor was aware that should have been contradictory, but it was the truth. With her thick black brows drawn down over her eyes, her full pursed lips and jutting chin, she looked like a thunderstorm ready to erupt. His libido also liked that she carried a knife and seemed capable of using it. A woman able to handle herself was a damned sight better than one needing constant hand-holding.

  A breeze tangled her short curly hair around her head, clearly adding to her annoyance, but she kept her eyes trained on him.

  He couldn’t help the urge to tease and taunt her with his body. Fuck if it hadn’t felt like heaven between her legs. The blood throbbed in his cock, making his balls tighten and ache. He tried to remember the last time he’d felt the slick wet heat of a woman and couldn’t. She was tight and hot, with a mouth made for biting and nibbling. Her round firm ass fit his hands perfectly and begged another grab. Despite her protest, he knew she didn’t know what the hell she was doing. If she had, she wouldn’t have initiated sex with him and been so clueless. Girl couldn’t even kiss—like she’d never been kissed by a man before.

  The brief moment he’d held her in his arms convinced him this was a woman worth savoring for however long she’d allow him her delights. He understood why she’d kept her assets hidden without additional protection. Most men were animals. Her old man was clearly sick and unable to defend her in a real fight.

  That was just the way of the world now, and assholes would use any excuse to take what they wanted with the slightest provocation.

  Now that he’d dipped his dick in her and seen the passion in her eyes, he couldn’t get his mind off doing it again—longer and without worries of being interrupted. She might not be a virgin, but that didn’t mean she’d been initiated into pleasure. He could hold out until the right moment. Maybe.

  Dahlia pointed to the cage. Connor obliged her by going back inside. He propped his forearms against the gate, looking at her through the chain links. “We’ll keep this pretense up until you concede.”

  “Pretense?” she asked.

  Pretense that (1) the cage could hold him, (2) she was going to be his woman—she just didn’t know it yet.

  He ignored the question. “Puts a different spin on who’s really looking out for whom, doesn’t it?” he said. He ran his gaze up her body though she didn’t notice his interest. “Ever thought what they’d do if you could get pregnant?”

  His line of questioning pinpointed a sore subject for her—or that’s what he took it for since she immediately spun on her heel and walked away. He watched her gather wood and kindling.

  She came back to the cage and dropped the armload of sticks on the ground. He raised his eyebrows, awaiting an answer to his question.

  Dahlia scowled, shrugging. “I haven’t exactly made myself available for procreation.”

  “E
xcept this time,” he taunted. He rubbed his thumb against his bottom lip, eyeballing her like a choice piece of steak.

  Dahlia dug her fire kit from her bag and took the knife off her belt to shave the precious magnesium strip onto her kindling. A few strikes down the strip with her knife, and she had the bundle burning. She added small twigs and then larger sticks as she built the fire up.

  She’d managed to wipe a smudge of ash across her cheek pushing her hair out of the way. For some reason, he found the dark swipe charming against the backdrop of her unusual golden-hued complexion. She looked better suited to a Caribbean lifestyle than this one. It was a shame the islands were gone.

  “Just hmm?”

  Distraction. Fuck.

  “They’d use you as a breeder. I’m surprised they haven’t tried already,” he said softly. There was no use hiding the fact that breeding age women were becoming a rarity. She might as well face facts.

  She looked up, squinting. “No fucking way. I do what and who I want, when I want to.”

  “Yeah. Well, shit happens. Not that it does much good. Like I said, I haven’t run across any children.”

  She sat near the fire as if absorbing his words. Connor sat on the other side, behind the safety of his prison, facing her across the flames.

  “But your settlement has kids.”

  “Some. Not enough. We’ve built a sanctuary.”

  “And the price of admission is your soul, am I right? Or do you want me to come along and be a baby making factory?”

  Connor frowned. “No one is forced to do anything they don’t want to do. I don’t consider I’ve sold my soul. This is survival. You don’t even feel it when it happens. You never have to worry about getting sick or injured again.”

  She poked embers with a stick. “Does it mean you can’t die?”

  He shook his head. “We’re just a lot harder to kill. Disconnect the brain from the spine, we’re toast. Same for dismemberment. There’s a limit, but it’s high.”

  “What’s the drawback then? Why didn’t they just inject everyone with them?”

  He remained quiet for a while, staring into the fire as he thought about the horrors he’d seen in the years past. Friends lost and friends gained. Rape and torture and enough blood to fill the rivers and lakes. So many times he’d felt hopeless for the future. Women and children gave them hope for something more, a goal to work toward. Without them, he knew his people would be just as savage as the rest. Dahlia was young enough she probably didn’t remember everything that happened in the before time.