Alpha’s Mate: Dire Wolves of London, Book One

by Wilder, Carina

  He was hers.

  “What are you?” she breathed, confusion tormenting her mind once again. “Are you a shape-shifter? Is this the Wild Magic you spoke of earlier?”

  The Wolf cocked his head at her, an almost cute look on his face. He’d understood, she knew. No doubt he understood more than she ever would, even if she had a thousand lifetimes yet to live.

  But he couldn’t speak, of course.

  “Can you come back to me?” Emma asked. “I want to talk to Laird.”

  A few seconds later, he stood before her in human form again, fully clothed, his eyes slowly turning back to their regular shade.

  “My ability comes from the Wild Magic, yes,” he said. “What you saw just now was my déor, the Dire Wolf who dwells inside me. In the park, you saw Roth’s. He was the one who took on the Grizzly. He and I were there to make sure you were safe tonight. We followed you from a distance, but perhaps we should have been closer. I’m sorry if the bear gave you a start.”

  “You followed me,” she said. “From the pub…you were looking out for me…both of you…” Her heart was thumping hard in her chest now. Affection, desire, excitement, all intermingled to drive the blood through her body.

  “Truth be told,” said a voice that echoed from somewhere off to her right, “I’ve followed you home on many occasions, Emma.”

  She spun around to see Roth walking towards them, wiping his brow with the sleeve of his wool coat.

  “You have?” she asked breathlessly.

  He nodded as he came close. “I’m afraid I’ve been acting as an unsolicited bodyguard of sorts. Though I will say that you have a very lovely body, very much worthy of my attention.”

  “But why?” she asked. “Why would you single me out?”

  He was looking at her with that intense, narrow-eyed expression of his that made her feel sexy and shy at once. “I felt compelled to,” he said. “I can’t explain it now, and I don’t want to seem—what’s the expression—creepy as all fuck.” With that, he let out a quiet laugh. “But I have kept an eye on you. London is no longer as safe as it once was; not for you or anyone. But we can protect you, if you let us.”

  From any other man on earth, the words would have seemed invasive, overstepping. But from Roth, somehow they felt right. The two shifters were silent sentinels. Their sole mission, it seemed, was to ensure her safety. If they hadn’t been there tonight, she’d probably be dead.

  All of Emma’s fear, all her apprehension, every doubt inside her gave way in that moment. She threw herself at Roth and wrapped her arms around him, then reached out to pull Laird in close. It made no sense—none of it—but she knew now what she’d been reaching for when the bear had first threatened her in the park. She knew what she’d wanted most in the world.

  It was these two strange, exciting men.

  She had called out silently to them, and they’d come for her.

  9

  Emma pulled away after a few seconds, wiping her hands over her misty eyes. Much as she was enjoying the embrace, self-consciousness and reality drew her backwards for a moment. She’d felt her heart throbbing against Roth’s ribcage, as overwhelmed as her mind was by the world she’d just stepped into.

  He must have thought her a coward—they both must. Helpless as she’d been, frightened into paralysis. Even so, she was grateful to have two such strange, incredible guardians at her service. What on earth had she done to deserve them?

  As she backed away, pressing herself against the cold stone wall behind her, she tried to read Roth’s expression. Something about him intimidated her a little. Laird seemed more laid back, somehow; the sort of man she saw frequently around London’s pubs, although of course he was far more handsome and broad-shouldered than most humans. But there was something almost regal about Roth; something imperial in his demeanour. If she didn’t know better, she’d have guessed that he had royalty buried deep in his blood.

  “I know,” she said, “I know now what you are. Laird told…I mean, showed me. He shifted for me.”

  “Oh?” Roth asked, his lips curling into a strange smile that made Emma feel once again as though he could see everything inside her. “What are we, then, little thing? Tell me what you saw.”

  “Shape-shifters. Some sort of magic…beasts.” She locked her jaws together, trying in vain to keep her teeth from chattering. Not from fear, though; this was excitement. Nervousness. A thrill that washed through her like a cold, shocking wave. She’d never felt so alive as she did here and now, under the streets of London, hidden away from the rest of humanity with these two men.

  “That about sums it up, yes,” he replied. “So you understand now that there’s a very specific reason we’re so well acquainted with Cornish lore. With the stories of years past, of those who used to roam the clifftops and soar through the skies, the creatures who fought and died in the name of justice and nobility.”

  “Yes, I understand. To be honest, I don’t know if I should feel pleased or sad to discover that the tales are true. I always supposed they existed only in a sort of alternate universe. Now I find you right under—well, above—my nose.”

  “We are in an alternate universe, in a way. Look around you,” said Laird, gesturing again to the tunnel’s walls. “This is a place unreachable by any mere human.”

  “I reached it,” Emma protested.

  “With my help. With the help of the Wild Magic. Soon, perhaps, you’ll be able to come to these places on your own. But for now you can’t come here without the likes of us.”

  Another shiver pulsed through Emma, one that made her feel like a child discovering myths about fairies for the first time. She was a part of her own fairy tale now. But this one had two handsome princes. The thing was, she was no princess.

  As she stared at the walls, at the carvings of Wolves and Dragons taking down armies of men, a sudden realization hit her like a blow. “What are you going to do to me?” she asked, turning to face them again. “I mean, I know your secret now.”

  “To you? Nothing,” Roth replied, an amused grin still occupying his features, almost as though he was enjoying playing with her. He didn’t seem malicious, at least. “Are we, Laird?”

  “Of course not,” said Laird. “In fact, all we wanted was for you to get home safely tonight. That’s still our wish.”

  “But now that I know about you…about this place…surely you don’t trust me enough to let me go free.” The truth was that deep, primal part of her wanted them to take her captive, to carry her off to some hidden lair and make her their own. But that was her hormones talking, surely. She couldn’t really want such a feral, animalistic ritual to take place. She wasn’t really excited by the idea of being anyone’s captive.

  “I’m not concerned,” Roth assured her. “We may not know each other well, Emma, but I know you well enough to understand that you won’t go telling your colleagues what happened tonight. You don’t want them citing you for temporary insanity, for one thing. For another, I suspect that our bond is already too great for you to want to break it by betraying our trust.”

  Emma let out a sharp breath. “Yes, you’re right of course. I wouldn’t want to jeopardize our…” Our future. That was the word that came to her, but she bit her tongue rather than allow it to come out. “But there’s something else that I’d like to understand. That Grizzly, what did you do to him?”

  “Gave him a warning,” said Roth, “and a permanent scar, to boot. He’ll be fine, but he won’t be entering Hyde Park at night again. It’s not his domain, and he knows it. But come, let’s get you home.” He held out a hand to usher Emma in the direction they’d been headed, politely keeping his distance as he waited for her to take it.

  “I don’t know which direction home is at this point,” she said.

  “That’s all right. I know where you live.”

  “Yes,” Emma replied. “Of course you do.”

  Without another word, she took his hand and let him guide her down one tunnel and then the
next. All around them rose the carved walls, some depicting ancient Gaelic and Celtic symbols, some displaying carved murals of events that had no doubt occurred centuries earlier. Triumphant Dragons, noble Dire Wolves, Lions, gigantic Bears, and cowering men.

  After a time, they came to a dead end. Emma let out a quiet gasp when she realized that there was no exit to be seen. Once again, she told herself that she should have been frightened. Should have assumed that they’d tricked her; they were going to hurt her, despite their claims to the contrary.

  Yet once again, she wasn’t afraid. She was calm, at peace. She felt oddly comfortable, as though some invisible shield surrounded her. The thing was, she trusted the two men on every level. She knew in her bones, in her very blood, that they wouldn’t steer her wrong.

  “I’m confused. What’s this?” she asked, pointing towards the wall. “Where are we? I thought I was going home.”

  “I suspect you know the answer to that already.” Roth stepped forward, walking straight through the stone barrier. Looking at her and laughing, Laird took her hand, guiding her behind him as he followed.

  “Trust us,” he whispered as he disappeared.

  Emma told herself that the wall wasn’t entirely solid. It was a portal of some sort, and she would walk through, just as the two men had done. Just as she’d done with the tree in the park. She would be safe, no matter what.

  She shut her eyes and took a confident step forward.

  The next thing she knew, she was standing on Unwin Road, a block from her flat.

  “How…?” she began again. But what was the point in asking another foolish question? “Yes, I know. It’s the Wild Magic,” she muttered. “Good lord, you two are enough to make a scientist question everything she’s ever learned about the laws of physics.”

  “Physics doesn’t really account for the mysteries of our magic,” said Roth, “which, incidentally, will protect you as you make your way to your door.” He gestured towards her building. “You’ll be fine on your own now.”

  She looked at them both, disappointment smacking her in the chest, just as it had done in the pub when the men had taken their leave. “I…I don’t want to go alone. Come with me,” she said softly.

  They accompanied her until she pulled up in front of the short set of stone steps that led to her door. Slipping away, she pulled a key out of her purse and unlocked it before turning to face the men, who were standing on the sidewalk.

  “Good night, Emma,” said Roth, climbing the steps towards her. His tone was respectful, almost distant, as though he was trying extra hard to let her know that he posed no threat and that he wouldn’t ask to come in. He was a gentleman of the highest order, apparently.

  But she didn’t want a gentleman at the moment. Nor did she want two of them.

  “You won’t come in?” she asked, slipping inside, a light from inside the flat illuminating her silhouetted form as she removed her coat and dropped it to the ground deliberately. No doubt both men could see her shape now, the curvy hourglass of her hips, waist, her round breasts. As though to ensure that they were fully aware of her body, she slipped a hand to her neck, letting it ease down slowly over her chest before she stopped suddenly, crossing her arms in a tense twist.

  Maybe she shouldn’t be so obvious about it.

  “We shouldn’t come in,” Roth replied. He seemed to speak for them both, but Laird didn’t protest. In spite of that, both men moved a step or two closer.

  “May I ask you something?” Emma asked. “Is one of you some sort of leader?”

  “Roth is our Alpha,” said Laird. “Much as he’s happy to share the title, it’s he who leads the Pack. He’s powerful, his Dire Wolf the strongest that I know.”

  “You say that with admiration rather than resentment,” Emma said. “It doesn’t bother you that he’s in charge?”

  Laird shook his head. “I admire him. He’s a great man,” he said. “I harbour no resentment for his earned place among our kind. Besides which, I put him in his place if he ever gets cheeky with me.” At that, he smiled and elbowed Roth in the ribcage.

  The men were so odd, so different from the colleagues with whom she worked on occasion. This whole evening had been surreal. Yet as questions flew threw her mind about the shifters’ nature, Emma only found herself still more drawn to them, more aroused, even, than before. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I have to tell you—it might be that I’m just feeling a little off, but the thing is…I feel very drawn to you both. God, what an honest thing that is to say. I’m sorry, I’m usually not so forward. Most people accuse me of chronic shyness, in fact.”

  “Well, perhaps you are shy, but I am glad for what you said,” said Roth. He slid forward, put his hands on her hips and pulled her towards him in a somewhat less gentlemanly manner than she’d come to expect from him.

  A vertical, thick, rock-hard shaft pressed against her belly through their clothes. She wanted to reach down, to undo his trousers and wrap both hands around its length, to stroke him and suck on his delicious cock until he exploded in her mouth.

  “Fucking hell,” she exclaimed far too loudly as she leaned back and reached for the wall to steady her dizzy body. Roth let go of her, a strange, mischievous twist of his lips telling her that he’d shared the same fantasy.

  “You should go to bed, Emma,” he said softly.

  She leaned back against the wall and shut her eyes, trying to regain her balance.

  “I don’t want to go to bed without you,” she moaned. “I know it’s madness, but I want you both.” She had to be suffering from some sort of delayed inebriation from the wine in the pub. She didn’t speak like this, not to anyone.

  “We want you too,” said a voice that was made of dark chocolate.

  She opened her eyes to see that Laird had moved in close now. He pushed the dark hair away from her neck and kissed her skin, his tongue sliding gently over her flesh. Roth, meanwhile, undid the buttons on her shirt, pulling its two halves apart to expose her thin silk camisole. Slowly, he slipped a finger into her cleavage and glided it over her left breast, flicking its tip gently over her nipple. Ecstasy washed over her at the thought that soon, both these men would be inside her. They had to be. She had to have them, or she would die.

  “Keep going,” she whispered. “Keep going, please.”

  But the men pulled back simultaneously, as though some tacit agreement had set their limits.

  “No, we mustn’t,” said Roth. “Much as we want to. Not tonight. We only wanted you to have a taste of pleasure. You need to think about this for a little, for your own sake. But I promise, if you ask us again, we will give you what it is that you want.” He pressed close and whispered into her ear, “My cock and Laird’s will find their way into you at once. Every night for the rest of our days, if you ask it of us. We will lick you until you come, ten times a night, if you ask it of us. We’re here for you, sweet thing.” He pulled back and spoke more loudly. “But for now, we must say good night.”

  With that, he turned away, and Laird followed suit.

  If you ask it of us…

  “Wait,” said Emma, pulling away from the wall, watching, forlorn, as Laird pulled the door open to leave. “How will I find you again?”

  “We’ll find you, very soon,” Roth said, turning towards her one last time. “Sleep well, lovely Emma.”

  When both men had left, she shut the door behind them then fell against the wall, drooping limp to the floor, her knees pulled up under her chin. Pushing her face into her hands, she let out a long, slightly crazed laugh.

  She was in deep, deep trouble.

  But it felt so, so good.

  10

  A constant, quiet feeling of euphoria had been dancing inside Emma’s mind and body ever since the events of the previous night had begun to unfold. Much as she kept telling herself it would fade in time, the bliss hadn’t even begun to let up when she made her way into the university’s science wing at eight a.m. the following morning.

 
; Part of her still wondered whether her strange experience with the shifters had all been a dream, some concoction of an overly active subconscious. It was too much now to tell herself that she’d almost been attacked by a giant bear in the park, or that two men who could alter their very genetic foundation and change into Dire Wolves had done so in front of her eyes, let alone the fact that they’d saved her from the beastly killing machine.

  But the most unbelievable of all was the notion that those two men had caressed her in her front foyer. That Roth had whispered that they would both be with her. No, not just with her. Inside her. Sometime, somehow, she would enjoy the delights of the flesh with those two demigods.

  Even now, the memory of the Alpha’s words forced her pace to slow as she slipped into the lab, reaching up to touch her neck where Laird had stroked her flesh with his lips. A sudden rush of fire shot to her cheeks, her body all but overheating with conjured fantasies when a sound broke her free of her thoughts.

  “Em!” a familiar voice called out from behind her, shocking her back to reality as she made her way towards her desk in the genetics lab.

  She spun around to see one of her colleagues sitting in a rotating chair, an amused expression on her face. “Morning, Meg,” Emma called out, offering up a weak, sheepish smile. It seemed that she’d walked right by without even noticing she was there.

  “You all right? You look a little far away,” said the tall, lean scientist of twenty-eight. Meg was one of those women who had it all: looks, brains, a sense of humour. When she’d first begun working at the lab, Emma had found her intimidating, but they’d quickly become friends. Occasionally they slipped out after work for a pint, exchanging quick tales about their respective lack of anything remotely approaching a love life, though Emma had always found it shocking to think that Meg had trouble finding dates.