Alphas of Summer: A collection of shifter romances

by Lia Davis

  The memory of him had to be what kept her sane now. Here she was walking aimlessly, with no place to go and nowhere to sleep. The neighboring city of Ellijay hadn’t been where she’d wanted to stop for the night. Instead of blowing over a hundred dollars for one night on a hotel room back there, she’d set off on foot to find a better option. Still, somewhat early in the day, she was already tired and worn down from hoofing it on foot on these elevated, twisting roads.

  This road was quiet and pristine with how the asphalt perfectly abided to form a smooth path. It was much newer than the state route highway it connected to. Looking back to see if any cars turned off onto the road, Daryl moved to walk on the side. It looked new, like the road, and hugged it in a perfect attachment. Since there was a sidewalk, this must be a private road owned by a swanky subdivision or company. But what could be hiding out back here? Checking her app for where she was, it showed that raw land and not a road was here.

  Curiosity had bloomed and gave her the added energy to continue walking. This was so out of her norm that Daryl had to push down the rush of excitement at doing something so adventurous as she plodded along. She was certain she must look like a homeless person carrying all her belongings on her back. Still, it didn’t matter. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, there was a certainty that something good was at the end of this asphalt road rainbow.

  Another ten minutes or so brought her to the beginning of a long driveway. More of those blasted pine trees obstructed the view of what was at the end. Opting to walk through the trees parallel to the drive, Daryl followed the winding path until she saw a huge house a few hundred feet away. In front of its circular driveway sat a landscaping truck and service vehicle. Ducking to stay hidden, Daryl watched as the bustle of activity continued. Workers milled around the house and its grounds like a glam team preparing a celebrity to walk the red carpet.

  One of the landscapers came close to the edge of the grounds, close to where she hid, with a leaf blower. Brittle and old, reddish-brown pine needles, leaves and grass clippings were whisked away in a hail of high powered air. No matter how close he got to the edge of the wooded area, he didn’t seem to detect her presence. Voyeurism had never been her thing. Still, Daryl couldn’t tear herself away from the fascinating sight.

  Noise from the large, professional landscaping equipment continued to fill the air as she watched them work. These sounds of activity had been what had lured her to the house that was clearly a mansion. Waiting in the surrounding wooded area to rest up and the time to pass before she could leave undetected, Daryl watched the workers as they went about their day, cleaning, pruning, and polishing the front of the mansion. They moved with ease and familiarity. That meant they knew the place and worked on it regularly. When they were done, the curb appeal of the estate was breathtaking. It looked like a magazine photo shoot of a dream house.

  It was late, with the sun retiring to a low place in the western sky when the crew started packing up to leave. Daryl was tired and hungry; too tired to think about tackling the road back to the main one. Plus, no street lights popped on in the dusk of the day. Daryl had walked up the private road earlier as a last resort to find a safe place to camp out for a while. Determined to do that before starting back to the main road, she brushed a few sticks out of the way and pooled together more dried pine needles in a small pile. Content with her effort, Daryl had made a comfortable spot to sit. She settled in and watched the workers file into the trucks. The owners should be home soon. Just a little longer and she’d leave undetected after they went inside. Leaning against her stuffed backpack, she waited.

  The shudder that racked her body was enough to make Daryl fall over onto her side. Nothing made sense as she righted herself to regain her bearings. Where was she? How had she come to be here in these woods? Discombobulated, she fought to remain calm and keep it together. Cold wetness bit at her feet and hands pulling Daryl back from sleepiness. Darkness surrounded her except for a few lights illuminating the large house in the distance. She’d fallen asleep. Struggling to remember her last thoughts before slumber, Daryl remembered it had been the men packing up to leave and the owners to come home that she'd been waiting on.

  A quick glance at her smart watch shocked and alarmed her. It was after ten at night. She was out here in the cold with no protection from the elements or any animals. A soft rain fell in droplets as it made its way down through the trees. Daryl had a decision to make. She needed to find shelter fast. Sucking in the scent of wet pine, fresh earth, and other outdoorsy scents, was a trigger for a fierce survival instinct to surge forward. It was enough to turn on the wheels of her mind to think clearly.

  More than the havoc the rain would work on her tightly coiled hair was the serious damage water could do to her only hope of making some money—her laptop and phone. Reaching for her backpack, a groan of discouragement escaped as she lifted the backpack to see rain water dripping from it. She had to find a way to salvage what she could of her electronics.

  Wrangling her thoughts to come up with a solution, she took a few beats to work past feelings of fear and the beginnings of anxiety that could trigger outright panic. She looked back over to the large house that sat a few hundred feet away. No lights lit the home from the inside. But, that didn’t mean there was no one home. The rain increased, cutting a faster path through the branches of the canopy of trees she sat under. This sucked. Darkness waited back down that driveway.

  She could envision the news headline now—Daryl Livingston, Junior, daughter of the great Daryl Livingston, Senior was apprehended for entering a private Georgia residence. The owners pressed charges and are seeking prosecution to the fullest extent of the law. She took in a deep gulp of the clean Georgia Mountain air.

  “Nah, I can’t break into these people’s home. Jail ain’t the answer.”

  Snapping wet branches snatched her heart into her throat as movement registered in the corner of her eye. Something on four legs moved through the trees. Squinting to see, she scooted closer to the base of the closest tree. Not a tree climber, Daryl didn’t know how sitting at the base of a tree would help her if this was an animal looking for a meal.

  More sounds of movement were followed by deep breathing that didn’t sound human. From the sound, whatever it was, came closer. It was large enough to coax a little bit of pee from her full bladder to seep out. That was it. Daryl’s bladder had joined the party as it was want to do whenever she woke. Standing, she saw the flash of the glint of large dark eyes staring back at her. This was enough to ignite a powerful sprint to the front of the house.

  Nearing the front lawn of the mansion that sat at the end of the long driveway, Daryl quickly scoped the place for surveillance cameras, motion sensors, or any other type of monitoring equipment. Who built a huge house like this and left it unprotected?

  Perfect, remote and gorgeous, the huge house stood resolute but welcoming. Making it to the front door, she was out of breath and drenched. With no visible neighbors and no alarm system of note to catch her movements, Daryl peered into the shuttered windows of the first floor. Banging on the door for help, she turned back around in time to see what had to be a hunter’s dream. Standing at the edge of the clearing was a young deer that was on the edge of maturity. She could make out what could easily be a seven-point antler. The animal looked her dead on, bringing up a little more fear. She rang the doorbell this time to accompany her pounding on the door.

  No one answered. The house was still and looming. The deer continued to stare her way. From where she stood at the front door, Daryl could see the deer’s flattening ears. Not good, that was a sign of aggression. This was getting real. She needed to get somewhere safe. Taking off in the opposite direction toward the back of the house, Daryl didn’t stop or turn around to see if the young buck advanced. Instead, she concentrated on not slipping on the slippery fresh-cut grass.

  It was time to survey the grounds to see what else might be lurking out back waiting to give her an unfortunate s
urprise. It took longer than she’d anticipated to make it around the house, but the sight that greeted her was worth the effort. Across from the pool was a little house that must have been a pool house. That wasn’t the Hallelujah sight though.

  A larger, single-story guest house sat back twenty feet or so away from the main house and pool, as quaint, and pretty as you please. It was the size of a normal single story house found in middle to upper-class neighborhoods. Like the main house, it appeared to be quiet and uninhabited.

  She sprinted more than ran to cross the lush lawn. The main entrance to the smaller house that looked like the child of the mansion in front of it was comprised of two wide French doors with encased shutters within its double full-length glass panes.

  “Please, be a good girl and open for me?” she asked, allowing the whispered plea to float on the chilly, early spring air.

  With her eyes shut to fend off the inevitable disappointment of a locked door, Daryl pushed back fear as she turned the lever and pushed. Toppling in as the door gave way in a smooth grace, it was a miracle she didn’t face plant on the rich wood flooring in the entryway of the home.

  Righting herself in time, Daryl looked around the dark space to see large forms that appeared shrouded. Fumbling in the dark to find a light switch, she hugged the wall until a panel with a cool, slick surface appeared under her searching touch. Pressing on the wall panel, the room was flooded with professional lighting that gave it the look of a showcase gallery or expensive hotel suite.

  “Thank you sweet, baby Jesus!”

  Closing the double doors and moving into the open living concept area, Daryl took in the plastic tarp-like coverings that had been the shrouds moments ago. The living space was furnished but covered like the owner didn’t expect to use it much. Daring to move through the house, Daryl took in the rooms, each expertly furnished. When she made it to each of the master suites on opposite sides of the house, tears of overwhelm flooded her eyes.

  How could someone with so much leave it abandoned like this? In her best dreams, Daryl couldn’t conjure the lavish expense to afford any of these furnishings. And this was only the guest house! The rain picked up, pelting the stonework path and front that made up the entrance to the guest house. Making it back to the entrance of the house, she lowered the lighting to a soft ambient hue and peered back out. The main house and pool house were as dark and quiet as before. She watched the large, hard raindrops dance on the pool covering as her mind whirled with what to do.

  She needed a place to sleep, at least for tonight. Tomorrow, she’d figure out what to do about her next move and pray no one came and found her here.

  “Let’s see if the gods of shelter have blessed me with the ability to take a hot bath.”

  Moving to the master bath in the bedroom she’d decided to sleep in, Daryl held her breath as she turned on the hot water faucet for the huge claw foot soaking bathtub. The groan and pop of pressure that escaped were enough to make her shriek with fear. But, it wasn’t long before dull water with hints of brown turned into crystal clear, hot water.

  Again, Daryl imagined her dad smiling down on her and blessing her with accommodations way better than any hotel she could have found in these parts.

  After the bath and removing plastic covers from the bed, the long chest at the end of it, and a chair, she unpacked enough to locate her pajamas and toiletries. When Daryl lie down in the bed fit for a princess, she sent a silent prayer up to the owner asking forgiveness and offering thanks. Everything was going to work out. The universe and her dad had already led her to a warm bed in a great house. Tomorrow would be a day full of possibilities.

  Chapter 2

  Asher Princeton—late May

  “Thanks, Monique. Don’t send any more calls through. I’m packing up now.”

  A sultry, deep voice full of wisdom and protection floated back through the intercom. “Already done. Go on and get out of here before anyone else tries my patience to see you.” The mature woman had been his personal assistant from the beginning of his business rise to success almost fourteen years ago.

  She’d helped him navigate the world of business, a short, ill-fated marriage, and even nastier divorce, greedy ex-business partners, and everything else, that had comprised his adult life. Monique was the godmother of his son, Brock, but was more like the child’s surrogate mother. She kept excellent watch over them both.

  “I’m going to ask one more time. Please consider coming with us to the mountains. Brock and I won’t know what to do without you for the summer.”

  “Nope. I told you, I have some cruises I’m taking with my new Boo. You cute and all, but this is my new man we’re talking about here. I’ll come up and check on y’all when I get back in July. For now, you need to spend some time with Brock and help him through his growth spurt.”

  “He’s five. You’re the cool one he fawns over. I’m just the dude that looks like him and supports his lifestyle.”

  Her laugh worked its normal magic. Asher had come to lean on her a lot. She was his big sister in all sense of the meaning. Monique had his back without question. Spending three months alone with his small son without her was going to be a challenge.

  Monique’s voice pulled him back to the conversation. “Plus, getting away from here will throw off that pack of hyenas you use for female companionship. Nah, you two need some quiet guy time.”

  “Pack of hyenas, huh? That’s cold.”

  “You pick ‘em; I call ‘em out.”

  “I told you, I’ve been doing the single dad alone thing since the beginning of the year.”

  “I know love, just giving you a hard time. After that fiasco with that one who tried to trap you with blackmail, I knew you’d see the light. Promise me, the next one; you’ll be careful with until you’re certain she can handle the truth. I’m getting too old to be your Girl Friday—Enforcer version.”

  “Haha, yeah, she was the crazy last straw. Again, on my honor, I’m on the straight and narrow. Haven’t you notice I’ve been getting sleep and going home? Brock is the top priority, and he’s excited about going to the mountains.”

  “I don’t know why you don’t get a real mountain home somewhere like Colorado. The North Georgia Mountains are… cute. I worry you’re going to be spotted up there; too much tourist attention from Ruby Falls and the Blue Ridge Mountains. Mark my words, someone is going to catch you on their cell with a video or picture and then what?”

  “Stop worrying. I take extra precautions. You taught me that, remember?”

  “Humph! I taught you a lot, but sometimes you do what you want. I know you, Ash. The one good thing about those mountains is the lack of feminine distractions up there. When your penchant for a great chase isn’t an option, you’re the strong, focused Ash I admire.”

  “What? You make me sound like a whore.”

  “Not at all. You’re a healthy man with needs. I get that. And since Brock’s mother’s unfortunate death, you’ve really stepped up to the plate with him. My words are meant to help you stay focused on the task at hand—raising your son, taking care of yourself, and keeping this company great.”

  “Whew, thanks. For a minute there, I thought you were going to recount my ten most recent screw-ups.”

  “Nah, no reason to do that. You do it to yourself enough. Get out of your head and live your life more. It’s past time you took care of your personal needs.” He knew what she meant without either of them having to say more. Monique added, “It’ll be good for you being up there alone and able to focus. This company could stand a new, exciting win. I want Brock to embrace his heritage, and not dodge it because his dad was a little too zealous with his coming of age training.”

  “I promise to take it slow, but that’s another reason why you need to come with us. I can’t do this without you.”

  Monique was the only other person in his life who knew what Asher Princeton really was. He had been twenty-two, alone and tried hard to find his way in the world, when he’d been
reckless. It must have been fate that made him crash land in her backyard all those years ago. Drunk and unable to take flight again after getting clipped by a rather large night drone, he’d ended up tangled in one of her humongous rose bushes. In her backyard that stretched on forever, he'd been unable to free himself.

  She’d found him after the crash, still in a semi-shifted state. Never saying a word or freaking out about finding a dragon shifter on her property, Monique had given him time to shift back and then helped him into her home. She’d patched him up and vowed to keep his secret. It would be another seven years before he learned her secret—she too was a shifter—a crow. Like the mighty crows from Norse mythology only in black woman version, Monique was a fierce warrior with compassion for the meek and vengeance against the cruel. She trusted few and relied on no one.

  “Thanks. Are you sure you’re ready for this new guy to spend that much time with him.” Pausing to choose his next words with care, less he got one of her legendary verbal takedowns, Asher said, “You normally can’t take being around one of your Boos past three days. Isn’t that first cruise a seven-day?”

  “It is.”

  “That’s seven days, Monique.”

  “I know. What are you trying to say?”

  “I said it. You’re not the kind of person to be cooped up in a ship’s cabin with a man for that long.”

  “This one is different.”

  “Um-hmm,” he said, disbelief heavy in his tone.

  “Look you; I’m getting better, more mellow as time goes by.”

  “Monique, tell that to someone who doesn’t know you. The first thing the poor fella does to piss you off, heaven help him.”

  “Not true. I enjoy his company—a lot.”

  “Really? Enough for seven days?”

  “Yes, and the other one we’re taking is an eleven day. It’s a suite with two bedrooms, and you paid for it as this year’s bonus to me. So there.”