The Loneliest Alpha (The MacKellen Alphas)

by T. A. Grey

  “About half the pack, it seems. Everyone heard about the attack.”

  “Oh.”

  “Someone hold the door open,” Gavin said.

  “I got it.” Her ears perked up at that voice…Hart MacKellen.

  “Get her upstairs on the bed,” a woman said. She had a brisk, no-nonsense voice.

  “We have the place on lockdown,” a man said. “No sign of the vehicle that hit them. We’re searching the pack inside and out but we think they might have gotten outside of it before we initiated the lockdown.”

  Gavin was carrying her up the stairs, the familiar sound of the wood creaking relaxing her. They were headed down the hall when the woman stopped them.

  “Hey, in here,” the woman said.

  Gavin paused and half turned. “That’s my room.”

  “Well, that’s where I set up shop so you’re gonna have to sleep someplace else tonight. Is that a problem?”

  He didn’t say a word, but she could feel the tension tighten inside him.

  The woman cleared her throat. “Okay, then, let’s go.”

  He set her on his bed and started to pull away. For one wild moment she freaked at the thought of him leaving her. What if they came back to finish her off while she couldn’t even see?

  Her hand swung out and latched onto his flannel-covered arm. “Don’t leave me, please.”

  Her choppy breaths made her voice waver. The muscles beneath his shirt flexed and as he knelt down by the bed.

  “All right, I won’t go anywhere.”

  A man cleared his throat somewhere near the door. “Alpha, we need you now.”

  “Hart and Jo can take care of this. You know what to do. Right now, I need to be here.” Those strong fingers threaded with hers again and she unconsciously leaned into him, inhaling his scent, loving the sound of his deep voice. He was a safety net and had her caught in it.

  She wouldn’t want to be any place else.

  And when the room cleared out and the healer started plucking shards of glass from her face, Gavin was there letting her squeeze his hand like she wanted to kill it.

  And when the doc poured burning liquid over the cuts making her gasp and squirm from the pain, Gavin wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders and talked her through it.

  And when she was finally cleaned up and had her shoes taken off and exhaustion started to creep up, Gavin was there to press a kiss to her lips and tell her to sleep well.

  And she did…at first.

  * * * * *

  An explosion of metal. The ringing squeal of tires, the acrid smell of burnt rubber filling her nostrils, the heavy clang of bouncing metal, the rolling sensation as she flipped and flipped. Crunch, flip, crunch, flip. Her screams of fear wailing.

  Bam! The airbag slamming into her face whipping her head backward.

  The squeal of tires tearing off down the road leaving them.

  Fire exploding in the engine. Flames leaping across the hood, crumpling the already spider web cracked windshield into a thousand pieces of glass that exploded in her face. More screams, all hers. Blood dripping down her face, so much blood.

  The fire roared and crossed the dashboard. She heard it coming for her. She just knew it wanted her. It wanted to engulf her, to eat her.

  She fumbled for the seatbelt but her fingers were cut and it hurt to even push the stupid button down. Heat struck her face, then that gentle heat turned dangerous. It started to burn. The fire closed in and she couldn’t scream anymore.

  She jerked her head to the left to ask Jo for help but he wasn’t there, his airbag hadn’t deployed. She was all alone. He was never in the car.

  Burning flames licked at her cheeks and she screamed until her voice grew hoarse. She dug past the pain in her fingertips and the seatbelt finally clicked.

  She threw it off as the flames came down, nearly falling into her lap. Sweat, or, maybe blood… No, it had to be sweat, poured down her face in torrents.

  She reached for the door handle and jerked. It didn’t open. She screamed at it with all her strength as if she might break it down by just her voice alone.

  She jerked on the handle as her hair caught fire.

  It hurt. The smell of burnt hair, even worse than burnt rubber. It was on her scalp, crawling down her face and the handle still wouldn’t open.

  Then something strange happened and she stopped screaming. She stopped screaming because the door opened for her and a man stood there, a man with a shadow for a face. She knew immediately who he was.

  He stole her from the fire, wrapped her in his safe touch. Tears dried up, and she searched his face in the night but couldn’t see it. Only the black circle of his face where it should be.

  “Gavin,” she croaked, her voice sore from yelling.

  His head dipped down, arms tightened around her, and then she cupped those shadowed cheeks finding distorted flesh. Breath held, she leaned up, almost pressing their lips together, her body weightless for one moment in happiness, in the warm glow of protection.

  And then it all came crashing to a halt as she dropped to a hard floor.

  Alicia jerked awake in a flash.

  Her eyes took in the room, her senses working overtime to come up with answers to the basic of questions: where was she, how did she get here, and why.

  It came back to her as the terrible dream she’d been having subsided back into a forgettable memory.

  She was in Gavin’s room at his house because she’d been in a car accident. Someone had tried to kill her.

  The room was dark as night. She couldn’t be sure how long she’d slept, a few minutes, a few hours, a whole day?

  She was alone, the door was shut. She heard no voices, nothing.

  Turning around, she saw the alarm clock on the nightstand behind her. It read 4:32 in bright red numbers. It had to be the same night then.

  Where was Gavin? Why had he left her?

  He’d helped her so much, she’d relied on him and he’d been there for her.

  She winced as little pains started to register all over her body. From her shoulder, her face, to a burning sensation on her neck. Even her rib cage hurt like she’d taken a few punches by a professional boxer.

  Pressing her palms to the ground for support, she started to stand, but froze.

  It was such a chance. She couldn’t believe it. At first, she just blinked, wondering if she was stilling dreaming. But as she stared underneath Gavin MacKellen’s bed, she saw the box.

  The box.

  The one he’d removed from the basement without a word, the one she hadn’t been sure she’d seen after all. It was here, under his bed. He had moved it.

  As quietly as possible, she slid the worn box out. It was partially hidden behind a clear plastic container that held what looked like spare clothes, and a pair of old boots.

  She sat up with the box and slid it in front of her. She couldn’t believe it. She’d found it.

  Her heart ran a mile a minute with excitement and a touch of fear. She wanted to tear this thing open and find out what was so important about it that he’d hide it after she found it. Another part of her hesitated.

  Alicia nibbled on her lip as she contemplated it. He obviously wanted this to be kept private so she really had no business peeping inside. But she was kind of a prisoner here and someone had just tried to kill her. Maybe this could be like…a present after all that?

  Oh, what the hell. If he got mad at her then so be it. She’d deal with it when it happened.

  Holding her breath, she gently pulled back one folded cardboard flap, then another.

  It was hard to see but she didn’t dare flip on a lamp.

  Holy hell, she’d done it. She was looking inside Gavin’s secret box.

  A frown curled down her lips.

  Inside were some vintage baseball cards, an old newspaper that had turned yellow with age, a baseball glove, a mating tether. Her stomach plummeted as she fingered the tether. Had he been mated before? He’d never said so…but why el
se did he have this?

  Digging deeper, she found a gold necklace with a heart pendant hanging from it. Her heart pitched and throat closed up making it difficult to breathe. He’d been mated. This was the mating tether and a woman’s necklace.

  Oh god, that hurt. It shouldn’t hurt like that, feel like a betrayal. Like so much pressure sitting on her chest making it hard to even breathe. They weren’t together and she had no ties over him whatsoever.

  But he said he wanted to mate with you.

  You haven’t seriously been considering it, have you, Alicia?

  She put down the necklace and dug deeper. Her fingers closed around a wooden frame. Blood rushed and she latched onto it, yanked it up.

  That’s when she heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs.

  Barely stifling a squeal, she shoved the box back under the bed and rushed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her, clutching the frame in her arms.

  Breathing hard she leaned back against the door, heard a soft knock at the bedroom door.

  “Alicia? You okay, sweetheart?”

  She melted. He called her sweetheart in that damaged voice of his, and she liked that he did too.

  “I-I’m fine,” she called through the door.

  Then she flicked on the bathroom light. Her heart raced She licked her dried lips, ready to finally see the hidden photo, but she’d miscalculated—had no idea.

  The light lit up the room but it wasn’t the photo she was staring at but her face in the mirror. Staring into a reflection of a face that couldn’t be hers.

  She cried out, hadn’t even meant to. It just happened.

  Her face was made up of a dozen or more cuts, some long and jagged, some smaller. All were dark, ugly and red. White butterfly bandages littered her face like little wings. They covered up her cheeks though didn’t completely hide the cuts and gashes. More crisscrossed bandages covered the bridge of her nose, near the corner of her mouth, several across her jaw and chin, and more on her forehead.

  She looked like she’d let a child stick bandages on her face for fun. There was no order to it. Only chaos.

  A quick knock sounded behind her, making her jump. “Sweetheart, you okay in there? I’m comin’ in.”

  Her eyes rounded at that and she quickly turned the lock on the door.

  “Um, no, I’m fine. Was just…startled that’s all.”

  “Doc Heather said you’ll be fine within two days or so. She said the bandages will help to heal you even faster. No permanent damage,” he said gravely, like it was important.

  She had to look away from the strange reflection staring at her. It was too weird.

  That’s when she remembered the photo frame in her hands.

  Hands surprisingly steady, she pulled the frame back and stared at the picture like an art connoisseur devouring an original Monet.

  Only this wasn’t a Monet. It was a family photo in a rectangular frame. It looked like a family reunion photo with the whole gang. It was maybe a few years old, she guessed, judging by how young Hanna and Kaity looked. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the MacKellens altogether.

  She found Jo, looking as big and burly as ever wearing a smirk. Hanna stood next to a man Alicia assumed might be the piece of shit mate they’d trashed earlier tonight. God, had that really happened tonight? She shook her head to clear it.

  Kaity looked very young, maybe twenty or so, wearing a huge, bright smile with her arm draped around Will’s shoulder. Will had a big grin, but must have been blinking as the photo had been taken.

  Alicia searched every face of every man hard, looking for one. Gavin had such a large family and many of them she didn’t recognize. They could be the cousins he’d mentioned or…

  That was him.

  Holy hell.

  She’d found him.

  Her heart jumped a beat.

  That was his face. She knew it, without a doubt. This was Gavin MacKellen.

  Handsome as hell, a smirk on his bow-shaped lips, a scruffy beard along his jaw and mouth. He didn’t have that now, she thought, remembering their kiss. She would have felt the brush of hair around her mouth as they kissed. Scarring did that. Hair couldn’t grow where there was scarring.

  A broad nose, crinkles around his eyes, smooth grooves in his forehead, and russet hair with touches of gold and ginger in it.

  Her stomach fluttered like fairy’s wings.

  Handsome as hell. That described him. Even in the picture she could see the power in him.

  “What’d you do?”

  Alicia blinked, jerking her head toward the door at the sound of Gavin’s voice.

  “What?” she called back.

  He didn’t answer. Worry spiked and she bit her lip as she stashed the photo in the bottom of the sink cabinet. She flushed the toilet and washed her hands for good measure, then braced herself and opened the door.

  Her face fell. Stomach bottomed through the floor.

  Oh fuck.

  He knew.

  “I can explain,” she started.

  He held up a hand. He was facing the bed, staring down at the corner of the box protruding from underneath. Hell, there was even a line of dust that had come out when she’d moved the box. Of course he would see it. He stayed in this room every day. He would know when things were out of place.

  “I’m sorry.” She shrugged, unable to find words to explain. She was sorry but she also wasn’t.

  “You wanted to know so badly,” he said, that hoarse voice giving away nothing, yet making her tremble anyway. “Gotta know so damned bad, don’t you.”

  “Gavin, you’re scaring me.”

  He made a derisive sound, then spun on his heel and marched to the light switch on the bedroom wall.

  And flicked it on.

  Light flooded the room and so did Gavin MacKellen’s face.

  Fuck.

  Nothing could have prepared her. She flinched.

  Scars, distorted flesh like someone had filleted his skin. Little was left that had made up the handsome face from the photo in the bathroom cabinet.

  Those beautiful blue eyes were narrowed in anger, his lips, those wonderful lips she’d kissed with warmth were flat. He stalked to her, she backed up, hit the sink, the counter digging into her as she gulped.

  “Gavin,” she tried again.

  “Is this what you wanted to see so fuckin’ badly, sweetheart?” The endearment sounded crude and hurtful.

  “I-I wanted to know, yes. Why wouldn’t I?” she asked, defensive.

  Holy hell.

  Something bad had happened to him that night after the alpha challenge. Something painful. Lykaens could heal fast from most wounds, but someone had done something to keep his face from healing. Poured salt on it, maybe? On purpose. Her stomach rolled at the thought. Did he know who did it and if he did, why hadn’t he done anything to punish them?

  He laughed, a cruel, nasty sound. “Turn around.” When she didn’t move fast enough, he did it for her, pressing her back against him. He jabbed a finger at her in the mirror. “See that disgust on your face, that’s exactly what I knew would happen. But you know, sweetheart. That’s not even what has me so mad I could hit somethin’. Ask me what does.”

  Blinking rapidly, she stared at this man’s reflection, the once handsome man without a real face. Oh, the broad nose was there, with a scar horizontal across it, and jagged, dark pink lines covered his face, pinching and pulling the skin into shapes it shouldn’t be. His lips were still there and normal, as she had seen in the picture. Overall though, the change was huge.

  “Ask me what does,” he ordered quietly.

  She shook. “Wh-what does?”

  His jaw snapped and she heard his teeth clink together, and then he pushed her aside and tore through the bathroom cabinets, slamming open drawers until he found the frame.

  “This.” He held up the photo. “This is mine. My memories. If I wanted to share them with you then I would have. You took that choice from me. Tell me,
sweetheart, are you happy now? Now you will always know what I had been and wish for that. You’ll always look at me with pity and think ‘damn shame what happened to him, he used to be fine.’ Now what do I get from you but this disgust and this pity as you compare me to my former self. Well, let me say somethin’ to you, Alicia,” he leaned in close. “You had no right.”

  A second later he did an about face and was out of the bathroom. The bedroom door slammed closed, and she was left in silence.

  Alicia shook down to her knees. Tears came and she didn’t fight them. She looked down at the stupid frame and threw it. It crashed against the wall, glass shattering and she curled up into herself and cried.

  Because he was right and she didn’t know how to make things better.

  CHAPTER 15

  Gavin left the house before Alicia woke up. Damn, but he felt old. Old and weary down to his bitter bones. Who knew emotional pain could manifest into bodily pain? Because it sure as hell did. His head hurt from the pounding headache beating at his forehead. Even his ankles hurt and seemed to crack with every step he took.

  Didn’t help that he’d slept on and off in the Alicia’s bedroom all night long. After the fight, if that’s what one called what happened between them, he’d tried to force his errant thoughts away. He’d tried not to think about her.

  But how the hell could he do that when her fuckin’ scent clung to the pillows and sheets? When her things littered the room that were so very her—a spool of thread on the dresser with a needle poking out of it, some colorful fabrics stacked on the floor. Hell, even after he’d thrown the sheets and pillows off the bed he could still smell her scent in the room.

  So, he’d slept like shit. Luckily, he got to go into work at seven in the morning so he only had to toss and turn for a few measly hours before getting up again.

  Walking past that bedroom door though, knowing how he’d left her…hit him in the gut in a bad way. He felt like an ass, a real giant ass. But damn if what she’d done hadn’t hurt. That wasn’t how he’d wanted to show her. He was torn between wanting leave for a while as he cooled off and going in there to make sure she was warm.