Alphas Unbound: 8 Sexy Shifter Romances

by Elsa Jade

  “That moon was just a convenient excuse,” he growled.

  “You did come out here before,” she agreed, not hiding the hunger in her eyes. A smile curved her lips, an invitation to play.

  He loved her sexy games. “I bought you flowers.”

  “The flowers were for me?”

  There was no stopping the answering grin tugging at his mouth. “Sure they were. Even though you wouldn’t let me pay for them, chère.”

  “You can pay me back in other ways.” Her throaty whisper promised a sensual retribution.

  “You got it.” His arms braced her, his head lowering.

  “I’m all yours,” he declared. “Blue moon or no blue moon, I love you.” His arms wrapped around her, pulling her into his hard body where she wanted to be.

  She was his heart. His soul. Without her, he was the animal and not the man. What he wanted from her was more than he’d wanted from any woman before. He wanted her words and her promises. He wanted her love.

  He wouldn’t take.

  But he would have to ask.

  “You sure there’s a chance you could love me back?” he asked. She’d given him those words, but in the heat of passion. He wanted to hear those same words now, when they weren’t in bed.

  Her arms tightened around him. “Chase me and find out,” she teased.

  Ducking under his arm, she danced away from him. Her playful laughter set him on fire, and her heated glance had his wolf on the prowl. “I’m thinking loving you is going to be all too easy, Rafer Breaux. You come catch me again. See if you can remind me why hunting is so much fun.”

  Still laughing, she darted outside, running towards the stand of cypress trees, delighting both the wolf and the man. He ran after her, but not too fast because he didn’t want to end their game. His feet hit the ground, the steady rhythm echoing the drumbeat in his heart. “I’ll always come for you, chère.”

  She was theirs to hunt.

  Theirs to love.

  The End

  Red Fever

  A Werewolf BBW Fairy Tail

  Viola Rivard

  Copyright © 2014 by Viola Rivard

  All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  Chapter One

  ‡

  Typically the epitome of predatory grace, Ronan’s entire body was hard and rigid. As he stalked through the autumn forest, twigs and branches snapped beneath his heavy footsteps. Harsh sunlight beat down on him, further heating his already feverish flesh.

  He needed to mate.

  Now.

  A growl rumbling in his chest, his strides became longer, faster, and more determined. He closed his eyes, allowing his animal instincts, keen hearing, and acute sense of smell to guide him through the maze of trees and rocks.

  It had been that acute sense of smell that had driven Ronan from his home during the daylight hours. He had awoken in a cool, dark chamber of his den, his body drenched with hot sweat. While he’d been sleeping, a light draft had been steadily feeding him an obscure, but tantalizing scent.

  The scent of a female—his female.

  His mate.

  At least, that was what he’d thought at the time. After all, he was not a wolf prone to impulsivity and irrationality, and yet here he was, trekking dangerously close to a human settlement in broad daylight, following the scent of a female he had never before met.

  But when he finally came to a stop on a rocky cliff, Ronan found himself doubting his sanity. He took a few steps back, hiding his large body in the shadows of the trees, and gazed down at the inexplicable.

  When he had awoken, hot, hard, and fervent with need, he had expected the source of his agony to be another wolf. Yet, as he looked down at the wooded path, he saw no sign of a she-wolf, only a human female. How could his nose have betrayed him to such an extent?

  Even as Ronan’s mind doubted everything that had led him to this human, his body was not the least bit conflicted. As his eyes swept over her, his nostrils flared, taking in a long drag of her potent scent. Nearly all of his muscles clenched in anticipation, with the exception of his heart, which began to hammer within his chest. Hot blood pounded in his thick veins, all of which felt as though it was going straight to his cock. Without thinking about it, he grasped his swollen length in a tight fist, stopping just short of stroking himself.

  Human though she was, the female was undeniably appealing. Her sun-kissed skin was largely covered by a threadbare dress and flowing red cloak, but he could tell that her body was generously curved. Loosely curled mahogany hair spilled down over her shoulders, tips grazing a scant triangle of her ample breasts. Ronan licked his dry lips as he pictured himself undoing the buttons of her gown and taking those luscious mounds into his hands, and then his mouth. His grip on his cock tightened as he envisioned marking her—sinking his teeth into her delicate flesh while she howled in pleasure.

  Ronan was practically salivating when another scent caught his attention, snapping him back into reality. Another growl rose from his chest as he spotted a human male farther down the trail. The man was bulky, pale, and stunk of alcohol. Over one shoulder, he carried a large, unworn axe.

  In his time, Ronan had encountered his fair share of humans with weapons. He wasn’t the least bit intimidated by the male. And while he still did not know what he was going to do with the female, Ronan wouldn’t hesitate to defend her if necessary.

  But as he poised himself to shift, the woman looked over her shoulder and stopped in her tracks. Ronan could see a flicker of recognition in her eyes and she proceeded to purse her lips.

  “There you are, Rose,” the man shouted.

  Rose.

  The name suited her.

  Rather than respond, Rose turned on her heel and stalked onward. Her heavy steps were not those of fleeing prey and it was apparent she did not see the human male as a threat.

  Ronan felt disappointed, and then, resigned.

  He had no business with this female anyway. Regardless of the effect she had on his body, she was a human. Her kind was not suited for the aggressive mating that a wolf enjoyed. Nor was she suited to bear his pups.

  It had been too long since he had taken a female, Ronan decided. His body was so desperate for release that he was even chasing after humans. He would go and find a proper female of his own race to rut with. Then, these bizarre urges would be gone.

  *

  Rose cringed as Alf caught up to her. She’d done everything in her power to evade him, not the least of which was leaving home before daybreak. The odds of Alf waking before noon on his own were slim at best, and so she knew that her brother must have sent him.

  Although he was a year younger than she was, Rose’s brother had been the patriarch of the family since their father had passed away. It had been her brother’s decision, not hers, to promise Rose to Alf, a lumberjack’s son who was rapidly gaining a reputation as the town drunk.

  While his alcoholism was by far his most repugnant feature, Alf was also terribly unattractive. His narrow blue eyes were always bloodshot and set beneath a protruding brow. Despite only being a few years older than Rose, his crooked teeth had long-since been yellowed by chewing tobacco.

  It wasn’t in Rose’s nature to be choosy. With her dark features and rounded body, she had never been considered much of a beauty. Perhaps she could have coped with having Alf as a fiancé, were his personality even mildly agreeable.

  “You didn’t ask me if you could leave town,” Alf said, sweat dripping down the crease in his brow.

  Her nose wrinkled. Why was he always so sweaty?

  “I wasn’t aware I needed your permission to visit my grandmother,” she replied coolly.

  “I’m your husband.”


  She gave him a flat look. “Not until the weekend, you aren’t.”

  Their wedding was to take place at the town church, immediately following Sunday mass. Her brother had arranged it as such so that the worshippers would be compelled to attend and bring food, thus sparing her family yet another expense in what was already set to be the most frugal wedding in at least a decade.

  Compared to her husband-to-be, the bleak wedding was only a small humiliation. Rose would have gladly been married in a barn, were it to anyone but Alf. Was he truly the best her family thought she deserved?

  Alf spat out a wad of tobacco. It narrowly missed her boot.

  “Wedding’s just a formality. Your brother and I have already settled the matter. You’re mine, and ain’t no wife of mine running ’round the forest after dark.” Then, as an afterthought, he added, “It’s dangerous out here.”

  Rose would have snorted, had she been sure Alf wouldn’t sock her for it. She knew that he couldn’t have cared less about her safety. All he wanted was to assert his dominance over her.

  “My cousin sent word that grandmother is sick,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “I asked around, but no one else was willing to deliver her medicine until next week. I had no choice but to go.”

  She marshaled her expression into one of perfect innocence, even as her white-knuckled hands gripped her wicker basket. If Alf thought to call her bluff and took her basket, he would find no medicine. Beneath a carefully folded sheet was a change of clothes, a small purse of money, a quarter block of cheese, and a loaf of stale bread. It was all she could take without rousing suspicion, and she hoped it was all she would need to escape.

  In truth, she was going to her grandmother’s, but not to deliver medicine. Throughout her life, when others had sought to tear Rose down or take advantage of her, her grandmother had always been there to support her, be it with kind words or just a warm hug. If there was anyone in the world that would help Rose escape her horrible fiancé, it was her grandmother. All she had to do was brave the journey through the woods, to where her grandmother resided in her riverside cabin.

  The path to her grandmother’s was not without its perils. Aside from the usual dangers of the forest—spiders, snakes, and just plain losing one’s way—this particular forest was rumored to be inhabited by monstrous black wolf that preyed on travelers.

  Wolf or no wolf, it seemed to Rose that the biggest threat now stood before her, taking her measure with cold, bloodshot eyes. Alf was twice her size and could easily throw her over his shoulder and take her back to town. Unless she could convince him to let her go, she may not get another chance to escape before their wedding night.

  A shiver ran down her spine.

  “Look at you,” Alf said, his gaze softening. He placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. “You’re freezing. Come on, let’s get you back to town.”

  Rose knew better than to trust him, but she decided to use the fleeting compassion to her advantage.

  “I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “But I will not sleep a wink until I know that my grandmother has the medicine she needs.”

  Rose held in a breath as Alf’s hand moved to grasp the handle of her basket.

  “If it means that much to you, I’ll send my brother to deliver the medicine tomorrow morning.”

  Rose jerked the basket from him. “No!”

  Suspicion clouded his gaze and she knew that she’d made a terrible mistake. She thought fast, grasping for any excuse for her behavior.

  “It’s not just that she’s sick. The truth is, I need to speak with her.”

  A sneer washed any semblance of congeniality from his ruddy face. “About what?”

  “Well, you know that my mother passed away quite some time ago? I was only a girl when she died and there were things she never advised me on…” Rose didn’t have to feign a blush. “About the things that happen between a man and his wife…on their wedding night.”

  Once again, Alf’s countenance went through an abrupt change. Eyes gleaming, his sneer transformed into a crooked grin. He lowered his face so that their noses nearly touched.

  “If that’s what you’re wanting to know about, you could have just asked.”

  Rose took a step back. “No, it wouldn’t be appropriate.”

  She had him there. Tradition dictated that a mother was the one to tell a young girl about the art of lovemaking. In lieu of a mother, an aunt or older sister were typically an accepted substitute, but seeing as how Rose had neither, her grandmother was the next logical choice.

  “Please, you must let me see my grandmother. Truthfully, I’m quite nervous.” Rose swallowed back bile as she added, “Your bedroom prowess is quite well known. I should hate to be a disappointment to you on our wedding night.”

  Alf considered her for a moment and then, to Rose’s immense relief, he nodded. “Alright, then. Let’s get you to your grandmother’s.”

  Her feet remained rooted in place as he began trudging ahead. It hadn’t occurred to her that Alf would want to escort her. Now what was she supposed to do? She had already taken a huge gamble, if she tried to convince him not to come, he’d be suspicious for sure.

  As she floundered in place, something caught her gaze. From the corner of her eye, she saw a figure on the cliffs above. Tilting her head, she saw the distinct profile of a man. He had broad shoulders and a bare chest that rippled with bulging muscles. Long hair flew in a black disarray around him and his sharp eyes appeared to be focused right on her.

  Drawing in a shaky breath, Rose placed a hand over her heart. She gained a strange new awareness of her chest. Heat prickled over her breasts. They felt fuller and heavier than normal, so much so that breathing became uncomfortable. Her nipples hardened and suddenly felt restricted beneath the scratchy fabric of her gown.

  “Thought you were in a hurry.”

  Alf’s gruff voice called out to her from farther down the path. She instinctively jerked her head in his direction to see him frowning at her.

  “W-what?”

  His frown deepened into a scowl. “Let’s get going. Come on.”

  “Oh,” she said dumbly.

  She took a step forward, then stopped, glancing up at the cliffs again. There was nothing there but dense shrubbery and swaying evergreens. She wasn’t surprised. Somehow, she had known that he’d be gone.

  Chapter Two

  ‡

  Rose.

  The name truly did suit her, Ronan thought. Her scent was utterly captivating, her skin appeared as soft as any flower petal, and he longed to peel her thighs apart to reveal the sweet bud at her center.

  His body was on fire.

  Ronan had momentarily resolved himself to stop following her. After spying her from the cliff, he had slipped back into the cover of the trees. Her scent had become spiked with arousal—made all the more unbearable because he knew that arousal was for him. She had looked up at him, her wide doe eyes taking him in with unabashed lust. Even after she left, trailing after the foul-smelling male, Ronan could not get her out of his head.

  I should have left, he thought bitterly. He could have gone and found a female of his own kind as he’d intended. Now, it was too late. He had stared into her eyes, had smelled her arousal for him, and now no other female would do.

  He needed her.

  He needed Rose.

  For the wolf, it was no longer a question of if he should have her, but rather, how? The human male would be his primary obstacle. Ronan was certain he could easily kill the male, but he knew that was unlikely to endear Rose to him. She was the second obstacle. While she clearly desired him, he doubted it would be easy to get her back to his den.

  To a female wolf, Ronan’s size, strength, and territory were more than enough to prove his worthiness as a mate. But he knew from watching humans that their females were not nearly so perceptive. They took mates for a variety of bizarre reasons—familial request, social standings, and most common of all, money. As Ronan was not in
the habit of collecting money, he would have to make Rose see his many other redeeming qualities.

  Or, he could just kill the male and drag her back to his den. After an hour of fucking, she’d be begging for him to keep her as his mate.

  *

  “We can’t stop now,” Rose said. “If we keep going, we’ll be at my grandmother’s before morning.”

  Though night had just fallen, moonlight bathed the dirt pathway. Rose stood on the path, openly glaring at Alf. Thankfully, her face was shadowed and he couldn’t see her hostile expression.

  “I already got up at the crack of dawn to chase you down. I ain’t gonna keep walking all night. We’re gonna stop, eat, and get some sleep.”

  Alf had cleared out a small patch of ground alongside of the road and was attempting to start a fire out of some brush he’d gathered. Any other time, seeing him sit in the dirt and rub twigs together may have been funny, but tonight, she didn’t have the luxury of amusement.

  “Fine, then I’ll keep going and you can catch up after you nap.”

  Rose knew this was unlikely to work, but she had to try. Alf had not brought any food. He’d want to share hers, and she had the disturbing feeling that things would not end there. The night was chilly and she knew he’d want to share her cloak. Then, he’d try to grope her. After all, as far as he was concerned, the wedding was only a formality. He was her husband.

  He didn’t respond right away, and Rose hesitated just long enough to see him stand. As he brushed the dirt from his pants, she began to walk away. Once she’d gotten a few steps, she breathed a sigh of relief. Her peace did not last long.

  Alf grabbed her from behind, grasping her cloak. With a sharp intake of breath, Rose stumbled, her back colliding into his chest. Alf pressed a hand on her abdomen, while his other continued to grip her cloak. He held it taut, so that the collar dug into her neck, restricting airflow to her lungs.

  His sour breath clinging to the side of her face, he said, “I’ve had just about enough of your sass tonight, Rose. You have two choices. You can either be a good wife and come lay down with me, or—”