The Alpha Won't Be Denied

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The Alpha Won't Be Denied Page 5

by Georgette St. Clair


  He never even came into the room, however. He didn’t even try to spend their wedding night with her. Was he still sticking by what he’d said back at the motel room? He was going to wait until she came to him? Well, he could wait until his dick dropped off, because she was never going to ask him for sex.

  She woke at sunrise. They had a long drive ahead of them.

  As she was about to leave, Katrina came into her room with a suitcase. “A little wedding gift. We’re about the same size, so I packed you some of my clothes and some toiletries and stuff. Given that you’re eloping and haven’t had time to pack. That’s terribly romantic, by the way.”

  “You just really want me to hurt you, don’t you? Thank you for the clothing. And stop trying to pimp me out.” Virginia opened the suitcase to look inside. “Where did all this lingerie come from?

  “Don’t worry, it’s all brand new. I sent some of the girls over to the lingerie shop in town to buy it for you. The honeymoon package.”

  “Crotchless panties? Velvet mask? Furry handcuffs? And what’s with all these bottles of edible oils?” she held up a bottle of Kahlua Flavored Love Likker and glared at Katrina. “I told you, there will be no sex. And since I don’t plan on cooking with Kahlua flavored oil, I don’t need it.”

  “Talk to me after the honeymoon, babe.” Her cousin winked at her.

  Virginia slammed the suitcase shut and grabbed the handle. “Fine. I’m leaving for my sex-free vacation on Honeymoon Mountain,” she said, and walked out of the room with a scowl on her face.

  Carver had sent a friend from the Killingworth pack to fetch his pickup truck from the casino, and he insisted on driving. As they drove, Virginia texted friends of hers to tell them about the marriage. They’d hear about it on the grapevine anyway, and it would seem weird if she didn’t let them know.

  She was cringing at the thought of having to tell everyone that things hadn’t worked out once the honeymoon was over. She was probably just going to go hide out on the other side of the country for a few months, maybe in California. She wouldn’t tell her family where she was; she’d let everyone calm down before she checked back in.

  Sally sent her a quick, simple text in return.

  Congrats! I hope you enjoy your honeymoon.

  Virginia couldn’t believe it. No interrogation? No demand for details?

  She sent a text back.

  Are you all right? You’re acting odd. Haven’t heard much from you lately.

  A reply came quickly.

  Everything’s great! I have a new job, actually. I will tell you about it when you get back. Talk to you in a few weeks.

  “Hmmph,” Virginia muttered skeptically, staring at the screen. She wasn’t buying it. Something was off, but she could hardly go running back to Timber Valley right now to interrogate her friend.

  “What’s that?” Carver said.

  “Oh, nothing, just letting all my friends know about our happy union. I’m going to take a nap now, if you don’t mind.” She’d barely slept the night before, and also, if she was sleeping she wouldn’t have to make awkward conversation with her new husband.

  When she woke up, they were high up in the mountains and apparently they’d driven straight into Paradise. Or Switzerland.

  “What is this place?” she asked, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “It’s beautiful. Did we leave the country?” She wouldn’t put it past him.

  “We’re still in the good old U.S. of A. We’re in the village of Wysshorn, named after a mountain in the Alps. The town was founded by Swiss shifters who came over here in the 1800s because human villagers there had started to suspect their existence. A honeymoon lodge was built here in the early 1900s, and since then the whole area has been nicknamed Honeymoon mountain.”

  They were driving into the town center. All the buildings had a Swiss chalet feel to them, with wide gables overhanging porches and decorative latticework lacing the eaves.

  “Ooh, a café! I’m starved! Is that place actually called Café Edelweiss? Can we go there?” As they parked, Virginia perked up considerably. There was a delicious chill in the air, and in the distance the silver-capped mountain peaks thrust jaggedly up into an azure sky. The town looked as if it had been scooped up from Switzerland and gently set down in on these mountains. She loved how different it looked from Timber Valley; it made her feel as if she’d finally escaped.

  “My wife’s wish is my command,” Carver said as they climbed out of the car.

  “How about if I command that we don’t pretend we’re husband and wife?” Virginia yawned and stretched.

  “While we’re on our honeymoon? That might raise some suspicions. And then word would get back to your parents. And then they’d come storming up here to take you home.”

  Virginia shuddered at the thought.

  “So we should play it up as much as possible,” Carver continued, and he slung his arm around her shoulders and ran his fingers along her neck, a light, feathery touch that sent ripples of heat through her despite the cool, crisp mountain air.

  “Stop that,” she hissed, but she found herself unable to step away from him. He stopped stroking her instantly, and a part of her howled in protest.

  “Just trying to be helpful.” There was a gleam of amusement in his eyes as they walked into the café. He knew exactly what his touch did to her body, and clearly loved tormenting her.

  A cheerful, pink-cheeked waitress dressed in lederhosen seated them at a table by the big picture window and handed them menus. The window framed the mountains in the distance like a landscape painting.

  “I’m Greta; I’ll be your server today. And congratulations!” she said to them. “You’re staying at Honeymoon Mountain Resort, I can tell.”

  “We’re just about to check in,” Carver said, reaching across the wooden table and stroking Virginia’s hand. She forced a big, bright smile and grabbed his hand between hers. He needed to stop before he stroked her into orgasm right here and she pulled a Meg Ryan from When Harry Met Sally.

  “How about the fondue? Honey?” She forced that last part. She wanted to order, eat, and get to the resort as fast as possible. She needed to shift and go for a run soon, to burn off steam. At least she hoped that would work. It hadn’t lately.

  “Excellent choice, my darling bride.”

  When the waitress left, she pulled her hands away and folded them across her chest. Then she smiled at him and said through clenched teeth, “You’re laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?”

  “I’m not laying anything. Yet.”

  He looked her right in the eye, and the carnal hunger in his gaze made her want to crawl across the table and publicly mate with him in front of the half-dozen families who were enjoying their fondue. He didn’t have to say a word. His gaze lured her to him and promised sensual delights beyond her imagining.

  Why not just do it? a treacherous little voice in her head whispered enticingly. He’s your husband. All you have to do is ask. You know you want to.

  Because if I do, I’ll be saying this marriage is real and I’ll be married to an Alpha and I will never, ever know freedom. And he wouldn’t tolerate the new path I’ve chosen. And I wouldn’t tolerate him not tolerating it.

  “I need some fresh air. Be right back,” she choked out, and hurried outside. She took deep breaths, drawing the crisp air into her lungs. Now that she wasn’t sitting right across from him, she felt a little bit more under control.

  She realized that a young woman was walking towards her with a tentative, questioning look on her face. She had dark hair and pale skin and circles under her eyes. “I hope I’m not disturbing you,” she said. “My name is Darlie; I’m the nurse at the local clinic. I see that you’re a healer. Are you here for the skiing or the honeymoon resort?”

  “Honeymoon,” she said.

  Darlie’s face fell. “Oh, never mind, then. Congratulations!” Her smile was strained. Worry was pinching her forehead and she had a nervous air about her.

  “Did you n
eed a healer?” Virginia asked. “I’m around during the day if you need any help.”

  “Are you sure? I mean, our current healer is…she’s taking a break for a few days. We could use the help. But it’s your honeymoon.” She looked doubtful.

  “Tell me where it is, and I’ll be there at nine a.m.”

  The woman pointed down the street. “Even a few hours would help. It’s walking distance from here. You turn right at the corner and go two blocks and it’s on the right side of the street – you can’t miss it.” She favored Virginia with a smile. “Thank you so much. Ask for me when you come in.”

  She walked away quickly, back in the direction of the clinic, but that faint air of worry lingered in the air after she’d gone.

  Chapter Seven

  They were staying in a small cabin close to the main lodge. Their cabin looked like an adorable little Swiss chalet, white and brown, with exposed beams and decorative molding.

  There was one bedroom with a big, sturdy bed. The posts of the bed were topped with carved wooden hearts. Virginia glanced through the doorway and quickly backed away, dropping her suitcase on the floor, but not before she saw the big wicker basket on the bed, filled with various types of naughty honeymoon gifts. She spotted edible underwear and chocolate body butter before she shut the door.

  Damn it, of course a honeymoon suite didn’t have a guest bedroom. Well, someone was sleeping on the couch, because she could not sleep next to Carver all night long, fighting off her raging hormones.

  “I’m going for a run,” she said to Carver. She hurried into the bathroom to strip off her clothing. Normally she wasn’t shy about stripping in front of shifters, but she didn’t want to do it in front of Carver. It seemed too intimate.

  When she walked into the living room, however, Carver was there, stark naked. She concentrated very hard on not looking at his enormous cock, thick and erect and thrusting up from a thatch of dark, curly hair.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, shielding her eyes, which made Carver roar with laughter.

  “Going for a run with you. It won’t look good if you go for a run by yourself on your first afternoon here. People might talk.”

  She nodded, still avoiding looking at him.

  She stepped outside and he followed her, closing the door. Then they both shifted to wolf form. Her wolf was white and had one blue and one green eye even in her shifted state. His was an enormous gray wolf.

  She turned and ran into the forest. Carver kept pace with her. They streaked through the quaking aspen and ponderosa pine, leaping over fallen trees and scrambling over rock outcroppings. There were only a few inches of snow on the ground, but it was enough. It smelled so clean and fresh, Virginia couldn’t resist. She stopped to roll around in it, her heart racing. Carver dropped to the ground and rolled too, and she struggled against the feeling of rightness, of connection. Her wolf wanted to be in his pack. She thought she was Carver’s packmate.

  She leaped back to her feet and headed back to the cabin with snow clinging to her fur. Carver was right alongside her, panting happily as he ran, and for just a brief moment she let herself pretend it would always be like this.

  As they ran, an odd scent drifted in the air, and she felt herself sniffing hard, trying to figure out what it was. It was some kind of animal scent, but she couldn’t figure out what kind of animal it was. She’d never experienced that before. There was something about the scent that she didn’t like, an odd sense of something unnatural.

  She put it out of her mind when they got back to the cabin, rushing into the bathroom so she could get dressed in privacy.

  When dinner time came, they had the option of having their meals delivered to the room or eating at the lodge with other couples. Virginia was torn between not wanting to have to keep up the charade in front of other couples and not wanting to spend another minute in the room with her husband. Carver was annoying her greatly by sitting there reading a book and being sexy.

  Finally, getting out of their room won out.

  They trudged up to the lodge as a light snowfall dusted the air like powdered sugar, making everything sparkle under the glistening street lamps that illuminated their way.

  The lodge was like a much bigger version of their cottage, with latticework and exposed beams and a steeply pitched roof. Everyone was gathered in the dining room, near a flagstone fireplace with a roaring fire.

  Carver and Virginia took their places at the table, where a dozen other couples were chatting happily.

  Under other circumstances, this would have been fun. Virginia loved meeting new people, and everyone was glowing with joy and they all had that freshly sexed look about them. Dinner was delicious, with big slabs of prime rib and fluffy baked potatoes dripping in butter and sour cream.

  If only she wasn’t living a lie. Carver kept touching her, leaning against her, feeding her bites of his food, stroking the back of her hand, and she couldn’t shake him off in front of all these people. Every time he touched her, she felt lightning bolts of desire shoot through her body.

  “You two are going to have quite the night tonight, I can tell,” a young female coyote shifter named Tricia said to her.

  “They sure are,” her husband Devon said. “Smell those pheromones!”

  “Um…uh….” Virginia muttered, and kicked Carver under the table. Hard.

  “Oh, we’re embarrassing you. I’m sorry. Devon and I are still in that ‘doing it all day long every day’ phase, and I can tell you are too. Isn’t it wonderful?” Tricia leaned over and passionately kissed her husband.

  Then she giggled and looked back at Virginia. “Did you hear about that other couple? All locked up in their cabin, and they told the management that they weren’t planning on leaving their room the whole time they’re here. They just want their meals left on their doorstep three times a day. Now, that’s a honeymoon!”

  After dinner, the owners of the lodge, Clifford and Delores, insisted they all go into the lounge area. It was a huge room with a cathedral ceiling, massive picture windows, and flagstone flooring. Plump leather sofas and love seats were grouped in a big half circle facing another fireplace.

  Then they all had to play “How well do you know your spouse?” games, with fill-in-the-blank questions like, “Something my spouse doesn’t know about me is…” The host would read the question, then each spouse would write down their answer on a card and see if their answers matched.

  Ha, Virginia thought. If she answered that one honestly, she couldn’t even imagine his reaction.

  Something my spouse doesn’t know about me is…my life is nowhere near as safe and predictable as everyone thinks it is. And I wouldn’t change it for the world.

  Instead she gave a nice, safe answer. I’m petrified of thunderstorms, she wrote on her card. Oddly enough, Carver got that one right. How had he known that?

  She was mortified by the end of the game when she’d gotten more than half the questions wrong. She didn’t know what his favorite color was, or his favorite dish, or his favorite movie. And Carver had somehow kept getting all the questions right.

  She’d scored the absolute lowest on the game. She shouldn’t have cared, but it made her look like a woman who couldn’t care less about knowing what her husband liked or wanted. Argh, everyone must be pitying Carver right now, she thought, mortified.

  Carver jumped in gallantly. “I’ll be honest here, folks,” he announced, “We didn’t date that long before we realized we were so in love that we had to get married right away. But we’ve got the rest of our lives to learn everything about each other.” This brought forth a chorus of awwwwws from all the couples there.

  Then he leaned forward, cupped her chin in his hand, and kissed her. She had no choice but to go along. Her lips parted and he kissed her hungrily, his tongue swirling around hers. He tasted of the port he’d been drinking, and he smelled of sex and his bergamot-scented cologne.

  Carver pulled away first, and she sat there with her eyes closed
for a second before she leaned back in her seat, flushing.

  They were sitting across from an older couple on their second honeymoon – a pair of silver-haired wolf shifters. The man had his hand on his wife’s thigh. They were gazing adoringly into each other’s eyes.

  Carver nodded at the older couple. He leaned in close and breathed in her ear, “Look, honey, that will be us in twenty years.”

  Virginia shot him a look of derision. She leaned in close to him in return, looking as if she were whispering sweet nothings in his ear. “In your dreams,” she murmured.

  His hand settled on her thigh, and she jumped.

  “You’ll eat those words someday.” His voice was low and he smiled at her, a lazy, knowing smile that sent a rush of moisture between her legs.

  “I think we’ll go back to our room now,” she announced. “Thank you for a lovely evening!” She stood up quickly and headed for the lobby without bothering to see if Carver was following, but of course he was.

  * * *

  Carver leaned back in his chair and pretended to read, but all the while he watched Virginia with a smile of satisfaction. She could pretend all she wanted, but he could tell how much she wanted him. And he was willing to wait.

  Her pupils were dilated with desire. Her breathing was fast. The delicious scent of her arousal perfumed the air, and she was doing everything she could to avoid him. Hanging out at the other end of the room. Trying not to walk too close to him.

  He kept finding little ways to get close to her and brush up against her, because he enjoyed her stifled moans of frustration and arousal. Then he’d walk away. He’d told her he wouldn’t push sex on her, and he’d meant it.

  She was sitting at the other end of the room, pretending to be reading when she’d just been staring at the same page for the last ten minutes, when her phone rang. He saw the look on her face when she saw the number. “I’ll be right back,” she said, and she stepped out onto the front porch to take the call.

  He partially shifted so he could eavesdrop with his enhanced wolf hearing.

 

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