Lycan Alpha Claim (#2)

by Tamara Rose Blodgett

  “Yes, I can.” His voice lowers to a seductive growl.

  And then his hands are on my shoulders as he pulls me to him. His mouth grazes the sensitive spot behind my ear, his hands yanking all my hair back as he does. “I can find many things to do with that, Tal.”

  The words hung like a horse flash in my mind. Oh god, I can feel his erection against the front of me and I can't stop wanting it.

  Wanting him.

  Arden. My geeky best friend who's anything but.

  “No,” I say in whispered denial. Full of want.

  “Don't feel guilty, Talyn. Your body wants this. You were made to change. It doesn't have to come from the Lycan. I can transition you.”

  With the last ounce of my willpower I pull backward. His hands grip my upper arms loosely, but I can feel the immense strength of him like a tuning fork that vibrates to my core.

  “What will happen if I don't want to be this ʻLycan femaleʼ? What happens if I just keep being me—Talyn Phisher—” I put my fingers to my chest and his arms tangle with mine, “counselor to the humans. You know—people that I can help experience something other than sadness? Maybe even joy. That's not a small thing, Arden. I can do something bigger than myself.”

  He shakes his head. “I need you. I've always needed you, Tal.” Arden's eyes are his. The ones behind the owl lenses. Deep and soulful, so dark a blue they rival the slate of soapstone perfectly.

  I step away and he reluctantly releases me.

  “I don't want to be that needed by anyone. It's not normal. In fact, if I put my psych hat on, I'd say it's pretty damn dysfunctional.”

  “Dysfunction be damned. I've tried to reason with you—and I know this has been a lot to absorb.”

  I laugh. Damn straight.

  “Totally,” I say, sweeping my palm at his naked self.

  “Fine,” he grumbles and goes straight to the guest closet and jerks out a spare pair of sweatpants I keep around for my brother when he bothers to visit.

  Handy that he knows where I keep them, I stew.

  He jerks them on and my breath catches at the sexy view of his ass hopping into the soft black athletic pants.

  I don't realize I've clenched my eyes shut until Arden says softly, “Tal.”

  I open them. “Is it a fate worse than death that you have sex with me?”

  It's open season on him with my eyes.

  The old Arden, with the exception of his slate blue gaze, is gone. This is the new and definitely improved version.

  I'd be blind not to notice him as a man.

  He's a huge muscled specimen now. Dark honey brown hair falls in waves from his forehead and just brushes his nape, lithe muscles flow down his body like flesh covered steel.

  I'm tall, but this Arden is much taller. I could wear my favorite (and painful), four inch heels and I'd still be inches shorter.

  But in all this, even with my new sex drive pounding on every bit of me—begging for release—I can't just screw him like an alley cat.

  I frown. Or a bitch in heat. My lips quirk at the image but I shake my head and say, “You might be able to turn the light switch on and off.”

  “Pulse switches now.” He winks.

  I always forget the new technology, and I'm old enough to remember regular electricity, even still have some in my old house.

  “Yeah,” I reply softly. “You're right. But—I can't just have sex with you for the sake of turning into this creature. I think I'll pass. And somehow,” my eyes rise from his body to his face, “somehow I'll get past the dissolution of our friendship.”

  Arden comes forward, eyes edged with sadness. “The Lycan can't offer you what I can. He can transition you—true. He will not bring you harm, he will bring you over. But then he's on to the next change. You're just a number. Another female hybrid who's checked on the tally of ʻNow Lycanʼ for them.”

  That's awful. Somehow, that one comment makes me feel diminished. Like my value isn't in who I am but what I can become. And not even for myself. For some regime I've never been aware of until this last twenty-four hours.

  Arden's finger slides down my face like a sigh that's felt instead of heard. I lean into his touch.

  My emotions are tipping on the precipice of yes.

  “I can offer you something more, Talyn.”

  “Do I have to be a Lycan?” I ask softly. I liked my status quo. My life is boring and I'll admit to a certain degree of loneliness—but it's mine.

  Arden slowly nods.

  “But why?” I lament. “Why is there a stipulation of being with you only to change into Lycan girl? If I even said I wanted that.”

  “Because you'll die,” a voice that sounds like crushed gravel says from behind me.

  I spin around and there is Merck. A badly beaten Merck, but he's here in my house.

  I open my mouth to ask what he means when Arden attacks.

  “No!” I scream.

  Nobody listens. Not like that's never happened before.

  6

  Merck

  He's Mutable—and a Masker.

  Would have been great info to know before I ran into his conniving conveniently naked ass in Falls Park.

  Of course, where would the fun of that be? Leaving me to face the shifters who were hound dogging on Talyn's scent.

  But he can't scent-mask in every form.

  The horse thing didn't work. Sure—it got Talyn away from me, and to safety quickly. However, it's only a matter of time before my Lycan nose smelled barn and here I am.

  Standing in her open back door.

  I flick my eyes around the immediate environment, notice that Adrienne and company cleaned up the majority of the shitstorm we left behind and hear Arden trying to get in my change's pants.

  What does she mean why she can't just stay a human? Who'd want to?

  Stupid question. “Because you'll die,” I say plainly.

  The pup gloves have come off. Arden and me are going to come to an understanding. Now.

  He doesn't disappoint, reacting immediately, he lunges across the small space, talons in whatever form he's just chosen sprouting like knives at his fingertips.

  “No!” Talyn screams in her throaty contralto. Her voice wouldn't carry if she tried.

  I use Arden's momentum and toss him behind me.

  He stabs his talons into my back and uses them like a fishhook.

  I arch forward in pain, my body flushes with heat, already feverishly trying to knit damage from a shifter gang bang twenty minutes ago.

  I can't.

  Then Talyn is there.

  Arden jerks his talons out and I slump for a nanosecond, then spin, swiping my own razor-sharp set at him.

  Furrowed and jagged marks streak across his naked chest and blood pours out of the wounds.

  I swing back, readying to skewer his lungs when Talyn steps between us.

  I check my strike with a curse, swinging away to give the momentum somewhere to go.

  “Stop this, you fucking peacocks!”

  Peacocks?

  “Oh—wipe that dumb look off your face, Merck—or whoever you are! This is my home. Not a gymnasium for the two of you to wreck everything within ten feet!”

  Arden touches her shoulders and she shrugs off his hands.

  My eyes meet those of the Mutable behind her and I smirk. If I were human, I'd flip him off.

  But I'm not and the games are over.

  Talyn Phisher will transition. I am a Changer for her flavor of supe. “Just because Arden says he can transition you doesn't mean he's the best shifter for the job, Talyn.” I say it to her while I look at him.

  She puts her hands on her hips. We both track her movements.

  “God, you boys are all sexed up. Great. Listen to me and listen well—I am not a boss open for taking job interviews. I'm not hearing what you're saying. I trust what Enforcer Adrienne said: that I'm some kind of hybrid. But I'll be damned if I'm going to hump my way to being a werewolf.”

  I spread m
y hands away from my body. “Talyn, this is the way it has always been done. A Changer finds a hybrid female whose human side has covered her scent. When she begins to degrade because her Lycan side is taking over, and trying to transition, your scent—and all those females before you, begins to attract those who seek it out. It's biology, not emotions.”

  Talyn crosses her arms, glaring at us. “I am not ruled by emotions!” she yells and swipes a tear off her cheek.

  Arden and I look at each other.

  “Stop doing that!” she rants and walks away.

  Her feline streaks past, hissing at the Mutable and me as it does.

  “Pooky!” Talyn moans with relief.

  Talyn flops down on the only piece of furniture upright and covers her face with her hands. “I don't want this.”

  “There's no rewinds, Tal. We can't take away what you are.”

  She looks to the Mutable, and his face is closed down like a drum. At least we're together on that.

  “Don't manage me, Arden.”

  He throws up his hands in the universal gesture of I give up.

  “Talyn,” I begin slowly, “this isn't a game. You will die unless I transition you.”

  “One of us does,” Arden glares at me.

  “Is that true?” Talyn asks.

  “Probably,” I admit. “But the Mutable has how many transitions under his belt?”

  I know this answer—but Talyn doesn't. She needs too.

  Arden gives a hard sigh. “None.”

  Talyn laughs. “So you were going to what—practice on me?”

  I grin.

  She swings to face me and I wipe my face of expression. “And you!” she roars.

  I scowl.

  “You're nothing but a Lycan man-whore. You sleep with any female that needs the ʻchangeʼ. I'm just a notch in your werewolf belt. Nope,” she says, walking into her bedroom and tossing a small rollaway suitcase on a bed covered in a lacy, feminine quilt, “I'm not going to sleep with my ex-BFF who can change into a menagerie. Nor am I willing to just have sex with some Lycan because he says lie down and spread ʼem.”

  She punches clothes inside the suitcase.

  Arden gives me a helpless look.

  Okay, maybe this will work. I stride behind her, sliding my arms around her waist.

  I press my mouth to the soft spot where her neck meets her shoulder.

  Talyn struggles.

  I bite down and she moans, throwing her head back against my other shoulder.

  “Stop,” she says. The word is no but her body is throwing off breed me hormones like a freight train.

  “God, stop it,” Arden says.

  My eyes flick to his and sweat is beading on his face. “She's too ready. I can't hold back.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. I'm not sharing.

  Arden's gaze challenges me as Talyn rubs her ass cheeks against my raging erection. I give a painful shift of my prick and it settles in the crack of her ass.

  Not an improvement. The placement makes my control worse, not better.

  I growl against her shoulder, asserting my dominance as a male Alpha Lycan. It's a last resort in an effort to evoke compliance.

  Her animal should recognize mine. See that I'm here to help, to ease her.

  Arden moves in a blur to her front.

  Our eyes meet and I growl against her flesh.

  Talyn whimpers.

  She's mine. I feel her animal submit. I scent her readiness. Her degradation to Lycan is near. She's ripe for the taking.

  Though I need her assent.

  “Talyn, look at me.”

  I can't see her face but I know Talyn is responding to Arden's command when her chin dips from its perch on my shoulder.

  “Let us help you,” he whispers and his hands move to cup her breasts.

  She moans and our pelvises both arch toward her in response—toward her sex.

  I can't take my mouth from her shoulder until she gives consent. Which means I can't tell Arden to fuck off.

  The Mutable thinks he'll have a ménage à trois with my change?

  He's mistaken.

  “Yes,” she answers with a thready sigh.

  I shudder in relief, and my teeth release her flesh. Perfect indentations mar the smoothness of her upper shoulder, though I didn't break the skin.

  Stealthy creeping erupts from the hallway. Arden's eyes flash to the source.

  The shifters who I gave the slip have arrived.

  A languid Talyn hangs between us. Ready for transition. She would take any male in this state.

  With the Mutable's help, I put her there.

  A huge Lycan male crosses the threshold into her bedroom. “We'll take it from here, dogs.”

  He smiles, his many rows of teeth glow softly in the dark bedroom.

  I lay Talyn on the bed and loosen my hands, crouching low.

  They won't have her.

  I don't look behind me to see what Arden's doing, but I hear the crunch of bones shifting. Tendons snap wetly as they realign into a form of his choosing.

  He'll take me out of the equation while a mutual enemy threatens Talyn.

  But he doesn't. Arden charges the shifters.

  As a grizzly.

  I leap into the fray, fangs bared.

  The End

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  Copyright © 2011 Marata Eros

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

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  The material in this document is intended for mature audiences 18 years and older.

  Please note this book deals with serious and disturbing themes including violence and murder.

  CHAPTER ONE

  I looked at the clock, yet again... and knew that if my boss caught me I'd be toast. Safe in my cubicle, I swung my gaze away from the dreaded time and looked for Michelle. She'd be hanging by the cooler, which she was.

  Michelle caught me looking and lifted her chin up in greeting and grinned. She knew what I was about. It was all about getting out of here and doing something for ourselves. It had been a Long-Damn-Week and I was going to let my hair down and have some fun.

  Michelle wrapped up her conversation with one of the petty chicks that lounged all day while we picked up the slack.

  As Michelle walked toward me, I thought that maybe we wouldn't have to change: pencil skirts, thigh high stockings, stacked heels and blouses that yoked just where they should be to look sexy, nothing too much.

  Michelle stood in front of me, tapping a foot. “Watching the time won't help it go faster.”

  “Yes, I know, but I feel like the day should have ended already.”

  “I
've got an idea, let's go to Spinners tonight,” she nearly squealed in delight. I wasn't feelin' the love on that place. It was always packed with a rough crowd and you had to beat the guys off with a bat.

  Michelle saw my expression and started to wheedle immediately, “Listen, give it a half hour and if it's super-lame, we'll just bail and go somewhere else. Like that brewery place... what's it's name?”

  “Talbot's,” I replied absently.

  She snapped her fingers. “That's it!”

  “Listen,” she leaned forward and our hair mingled together, “that new gal... with the red hair...”

  “Molly?” I said, automatically looking around for her.

  “Yeah,” she waved her hand, dismissing the name. “She was talking about that piece of creepy news that's been circulating today.”

  I looked at her blankly.

  “Oh for shit's sake, Rachel! Don't you pay attention to anything?”

  “Not really,” I said noncommittally. My life was beyond boring right now. I worked here, hung out with Michelle, worked out, read, fed my cat. I was dying for some Excitement. Dying. But the news wasn't going to deliver. Excitement... no way.

  “You're hopeless! Anyway,” she sounded the syllables out slowly, “there's been another killing. Another bleed-out.”

  That got my attention.

  It had been almost a month since the first murder and they still hadn't found the killer.

  Then there were the rapes.

  Somehow, it was all connected. Men were killed and drained dry of their blood and if there were women with them, they were raped.

  But none of the women could remember the attack or their attacker.

  Our gazes locked. “So... they found another body. Two, actually.” Michelle said ominously, waggling two fingers.

  Great. Just when I thought we could flounce around for the weekend. Talk about a wet blanket.

  “Maybe... we shouldn't go to Spinners then. I mean, if it's not safe.”