Craved by an Alpha

by Felicity Heaton

  She felt Cavanaugh’s gaze on her again, hot and piercing, sending a rush of heat through her. He had to stop looking at her that way.

  Her concentration was already shot. She couldn’t stop thinking about how Cavanaugh had reacted when she had touched him at the base of the cliff, using her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. Hunger had flashed in his eyes and his low growl had sent a hot shiver bolting through her, filling her with a potent need to skim her hands over his broad shoulders and tempt him into kissing her.

  She had thought that he would when he had pulled her towards him, his eyes filled with desire that she could scent on him. He had released her but she knew he had come close to kissing her, had somehow mastered his desire and stopped himself. Why? She had cursed him for not going through with it. He had fired her up and then backed away, leaving her head filled with thoughts of what might have been and questions about why he would kiss her, why he had stopped, and what the hell was wrong with her. She shouldn’t want him to kiss her. She had to fight her attraction to him. It was for the best.

  Her heart called her a liar.

  It wasn’t for the best. Resisting him and her need of him was driving her crazy.

  He had been on her mind all day, stealing her focus away from the world around her during their trek. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since he had woken her this morning before dawn, rousing her from a wicked dream of him. She had opened her eyes to find him lying beside her, propped up on his elbow, his face above hers. His silver-white hair had been mussed, as if he had been tugging it all night, ploughing his fingers through it. It had tempted her to do the same. His grey eyes had been warm and bright, filled with a strange light that had left her feeling he was happy and it was because she was with him.

  She pushed it all out of her mind and tried to focus on the climb.

  Cavanaugh looked back down at her again, sending another fierce hot shiver through her. He really had to stop looking at her like that.

  She couldn’t concentrate whenever he did and found herself watching him as he climbed instead.

  He was an expert climber, far more agile than any of the other males in their pride. She had forgotten just how skilled and powerful he was. He made climbing the sheer wall of the mountain look easy, the thick muscles of his arms working hard beneath his tight black thermal top.

  Cavanaugh looked down and paused with only his right hand and the tip of his left boot on a hold. Her stomach turned. She trusted him, but she wished he would hold on with both hands and feet. If he fell, she wasn’t sure she could support his weight. She would try, but deep in her heart she knew that the force of the rope that linked them snapping taut would pry her away from the rocks and have her falling with him. They were already close to one hundred metres above the path. If they fell from where they were now, they would definitely break enough bones to leave them vulnerable to the predators that made the mountains their homes.

  He swung back towards the wall and reached for another hold, kicking off on his left foot to propel himself upwards. He snagged the small section of rock jutting from the cliff face and pulled himself up, finding another hold for his right hand and then for his feet. She couldn’t move as he did. She didn’t have the courage or the faith in her abilities.

  He looked back down again and she silently thanked him for keeping all hands and feet on their holds this time, and for checking on her. She had climbed with many from her pride, but none had ever checked on her as he did, watching her with concern in his striking dark grey eyes.

  He smiled before shoving off with his left foot and leaping an insane distance off to his right, catching a hold that seemed invisible to her. Her heart rocketed and she came close to shouting at him, but the grin on his face when he looked back down at her had her falling silent and smiling back at him.

  How long had it been since he had climbed like this? He was loving every second of it, thriving on the thrill of it all as they slowly ascended. She had forgotten just how deeply his love of danger and adventure ran in his blood. He lived for challenges like this.

  She had missed this male, the one who was carefree and filled with life, energetic and excited.

  Between the times when she had been thinking dangerous thoughts about Cavanaugh, she had thought about how much he had changed during his time as the pride’s alpha. Seeing him relishing the climb only made those changes clearer to her. She had missed how much his position had weighed on him and how hard it had been for him, but she hadn’t failed to notice how cold and distant he had grown over the years as their alpha, always lost deep in thought.

  She could see now that a part of him had died and now it had been revived. He had found it again.

  And she was making him return to the pride.

  Eloise wanted to call out to him and tell him to turn around, to come back down and forget everything she had told him about the pride. She wanted to make him leave this place before it was too late for him and she was forced to watch this light inside him die again.

  She didn’t think she could bear seeing it happen and knowing she was responsible for it this time.

  She didn’t want him to lose his smile again.

  “Cavanaugh,” she started and he looked down at her again, pausing around five metres above her, the rope hanging slack between them. She found another hold and pulled herself up, making sure she was safe before she opened her mouth to speak.

  “Remember how we used to climb like this?” He grinned at her, his grey eyes bright and entrancing her, taking her back several decades to the times he was asking her to recall.

  She nodded. “You were always trying to show off.”

  She bit her tongue when he frowned, afraid she had overstepped the mark. For a moment, a split-second, she had forgotten that he was her pride’s alpha. He had been that male from decades ago, the one he had asked her to remember.

  The one who had stolen her heart.

  He barked out a laugh. “I wanted to impress you.”

  She almost lost her hold on the rocks when she jerked her head up to meet his eyes. They were sincere, filled with honesty and something else she feared naming. Warmth. Tenderness. Maybe even love.

  She pushed past the sadness that threatened to well up inside her, the fear that this was all a fantasy, and managed a smile. “You impressed me the time you fell almost seventy metres into the snow below. I told you not to be a crazy son of a bitch but would you listen? You almost gave me a heart attack!”

  She had thought she had lost him, just as she had feared she had the night he had fled into the darkness after his fight against Stellan, bleeding from a terrible wound.

  His frown faded, his expression softening dangerously, turning him even more handsome and making her heart race. She wanted to look away but forced herself to hold his gaze, to see the man she had lost all those years ago. He was here with her now.

  She cursed the tears that wanted to rise into her eyes as he smiled and shrugged.

  “I was a stupid bastard. I should have listened to you. You always were right.” He lowered his gaze away from her and frowned again. “I’m sorry I made you have kittens… but think of it as payback for all the times you scared me half to death.”

  The corners of his sensual lips tugged back into a half smile.

  She glared at him. “What are you trying to say?”

  His smile grew. “That I saved your backside more times than I can count.”

  Eloise huffed and refused to acknowledge that, even though it was true. He had saved her life countless times, but then he had always been the one who had been pushing her to take risks and court danger. She had wanted to stay at his side, had been afraid he would race ahead of her and leave her behind, or he would find another partner for his adventures, so she had pushed herself hard, struggling to keep up with him.

  She spied another hold just a metre above her left hand and focused on it as she kicked off, launching herself up to it. She snagged it, dug her claw
s in and hauled herself up, scrabbling around for another hold for her right hand. She found a crevice and slipped her fingers into it, and then secured her feet, breathing hard. Maybe she was still pushing herself too hard in an effort to stay at his side.

  “You good?” Cavanaugh said with a laugh in his voice. “Because I’d hate to have to come down there and save your arse.”

  “Gods, you’re so funny,” she muttered and flicked a glance up at him.

  His smile stole her breath, and it was all because of her. It was because she was talking to him, not as her alpha but as she had so long ago, back when they had been friends. More than friends.

  She stared up at him, every inch of her heating through as his grey eyes twinkled at her and the wind tousled the soft spikes of his silver-white hair. Gods, he was gorgeous.

  Guilt flooded her again and she had to look away to stop herself from telling him to turn around and go back. The pride needed him. She couldn’t let them down.

  Eloise looked around for another hold. There was one, but it was further than the last, a stretch for her. No, she could make it. She had good holds for her feet, firm enough to give her the leverage she needed to make it that far.

  “I saved your arse a few times too.” She stretched with her right arm and kicked off with her right foot.

  The rock beneath it crumbled.

  Eloise shrieked as she dropped.

  Cavanaugh grunted and grabbed the rope that connected them with his left hand and dug in with his right, his fear flashing across his face and beating through her blood.

  “Eloise!” He gritted his teeth and strained as she fell, her hands scrabbling over the rocks, seeking a hold.

  There was none.

  The rope snapped tight between them.

  Cavanaugh grunted again but maintained his position.

  Eloise slammed into the cliff face.

  Her head smacked off a protruding rock.

  Pain blazed across her left temple and arm.

  Cavanaugh roared her name.

  The world went dark.

  Chapter 8

  Cavanaugh’s heart pounded so hard he felt dizzy. He shook his head and forced himself to focus on Eloise. She dangled from the end of the rope, spinning slowly around thirty feet below him, bent in the middle with her arms and legs dangling beneath her.

  “Eloise, Baby, come on,” he whispered, staring down at her and fighting to get his fear under control and subdue his panic so his damned senses would focus and he could stop thinking the worst.

  She wasn’t dead.

  She couldn’t be.

  He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, the muscles of his right arm screaming in protest as he supported both his weight and hers. It didn’t matter if he tore his muscles. All that mattered was Eloise.

  He focused on his breathing, until his panic began to subside and the rush of his blood and tremulous beat of his heart in his ears faded and he could begin to distinguish the sounds of the world around him again.

  Birds called down in the valley. Wind stirred the treetops.

  Eloise’s heartbeat sounded in his ears.

  She was unconscious.

  He breathed a sigh and gritted his teeth as he strained with his left arm, hauling the rope clutched in his fist up to his shoulder, dragging her dead weight upwards. His fangs extended and he placed the rope between his lips and bit down, digging his teeth in but careful not to damage the rope. It needed to last until the shelter at least. He had another rope in his pack that he could use to get them up the second half of the climb once Eloise had recovered.

  Cavanaugh drew in a deep breath to steady his nerves. He was quick enough. He was strong enough. He could do this. He just needed enough slack in the rope to wrap it around him and let his body take the weight of Eloise as he hauled her up to him.

  He crushed the panic as it slowly began to rise again, obliterating it, and let go of the rope. His fangs ached, bearing Eloise’s weight in the split-second it took for him to reach and snag the rope further down.

  He gripped the rope with his left hand, released it from his teeth and repeated the process, pulling Eloise up towards him, clenching the rope in his fangs, and then letting go of the rope to quickly grab hold of it again. He wrapped the rope around him, over his right shoulder and under his left arm, careful not to slam Eloise into the cliff as he worked. Once the slack was around him, he began hauling her up with his left hand, wrapping the rope around himself as he went.

  When she was level with him, he looped the last of the rope around him so she dangled beside him.

  He released the rope and caught hold of her harness instead. He hoped to the gods she stayed unconscious for this next part, because it was going to be hair-raising at best. He fumbled with the carabineers on the back of her harness and then jostled her so she ended up behind him, her back to his. He clipped her securely to his harness, unwound the rope from around his torso, and then wrapped it around both of them, so it looped over one shoulder and under the opposite arm, tightly binding them together with their packs wedged between them.

  The fingers of his right hand ached from holding both of their weight and he grabbed the nearest hold with his left, alleviating the pressure on his right arm. He paused for a moment and scouted the path ahead, already struggling to bear the extra weight.

  One hundred metres above him to the right there was a ledge. The shelter. He could make it. He had to make it.

  Cavanaugh grabbed the first hold and pulled himself up, carefully so as not to swing Eloise. He needed her weight to remain right behind him, in line with his own. He gritted his teeth and grunted as he reached for the next hold, caught it and hauled them up higher. He dug his toes into a narrow gap in the rock and pushed up, stretching for the next hold.

  It was hard going with her added weight. Sweat trickled down his spine as he forced himself to keep moving, his arms aching and fingers sore. Blood spotted them, the rocks tearing their tips to shreds. He kept going, grunting with each new handhold he found and each short distance he traversed, closing the gap between him and the shelter.

  He tested the next hold and growled as it gave way, crumbling and dropping down the rock face. He veered right instead, heading for a long vertical gash in the grey rock that he had used on previous climbs.

  Cavanaugh looked up at the ledge. Fifty metres. He could rest once he was there and then take care of Eloise. He hadn’t managed to get a look at her injuries. He wasn’t sure how bad they were.

  He scaled another five metres using the gash in the rock. It was just wide enough for him to fit both hands inside it, and uneven enough that he had some good holds. The bones in his hands burned. The muscles in his arms and shoulders ached. He couldn’t stop though. Not yet. Not until the shelter.

  He needed to get Eloise to the shelter.

  He needed to get her to safety.

  He forced himself to continue, pushing beyond the limits of his body, unwilling to give up.

  “Cav…” The soft murmur of his name made him pause and he looked over his left shoulder at Eloise. Was she conscious?

  He wasn’t sure. He felt certain that if she had been aware of her predicament, she would have been panicking.

  “I’m here, Eloise.” He gripped the rocks with his right hand and reached around with his left, touching her hip. “I’ve got you, Baby.”

  She murmured something and her weight increased, pulling him backwards. He grabbed the rock face with both hands to secure himself and sighed. She had been conscious, but she must have been keeping her eyes closed, and had only remained awake for as long as it had taken for her to hear that she was going to be alright.

  He would never let anything happen to her.

  He redoubled his effort, every shred of his strength and focus fixed on reaching the ledge and getting her to safety. Each metre closer he came to the shelter, the climb became harder, and he had to keep pushing himself, using his memories of Eloise and his love for her to give him the str
ength to keep climbing.

  When he reached the ledge, he hauled himself onto it and crawled to the narrow low mouth of the cave before collapsing on his side. He breathed hard, staring into the darkness of the cave, every inch of him shaking from the exertion and from the fear that now swept through him, tearing him apart inside.

  He might have lost her.

  He hadn’t allowed himself to feel any fear when he had been climbing, but he couldn’t stop it from bombarding him now. He reached behind him and clutched her waist, feeling her flesh give beneath his fingers and listening to her slow but steady breathing. She was safe.

  But freezing cold.

  It drove him into action, pushing the fear out of his mind again and the fatigue from his body. He unwrapped the rope from around them, managed to get her unclipped from his harness, and rolled over to face her. She lay on her side, her head resting on the rock. A small pool of blood had already formed beneath it, dripping from her temple.

  Cavanaugh eased onto his knees and carefully manoeuvred her onto her back. She didn’t wince or moan. She remained still and silent. He didn’t like it. He wanted her to say his name again. He needed to know that she was going to be alright. He touched the deep cut on her left temple and the one in her dark hair near it. There was a tear in the left arm of her thermal long-sleeve top too, revealing a gash beneath it and black bruising. He tried to be gentle as he checked her arm, pressing in to feel the bone and see whether she had broken it.

  Just bruised.

  He breathed a sigh of relief and swept his fingers through her hair, squinting as he used the fading light to check the cut there and the one on her temple. They were already healing. In a day or two, they would be gone.

  Cavanaugh shuffled backwards into the cave, squeezing through the tight entrance, and caught her under her arms and pulled her with him, dragging her inside. The cave opened up beyond the entrance, enough that he could stand hunched over. He lifted the top half of her off the ground and pulled her along as he backed towards the end of the cave where it was warmer. She moaned as her left foot bumped over a rock.