Alphas Unwrapped: 21 New Steamy Paranormal Tales of Shifters, Vampires, Werewolves, Dragons, Witches, Angels, Demons, Fey, and More

by Michele Bardsley

  “Not too bad? You look amazing.”

  “Next time can you give me a little more time to get ready?”

  “You look beautiful. Let’s go introduce you to the rest of the pack.”

  The thought shook Mina to the core. What if they didn’t like her? What if they tried to challenge her position, like she’d witnessed at Twisted Tail?

  “Everything is going to be fine. We don’t do things like that around here. Remember, you are my true mate, one scent of us together and the whole pack will know. There will be no questions, no challenges. It’s against pack law to interfere with true mates.”

  Mina nodded and relaxed. “It’s so odd, but in a good way. Everything was a battle before.”

  Rafe kissed her on the forehead. “Let’s go. We’ve kept everyone waiting long enough.”

  They walked hand-in-hand to the top of the staircase. “Here we go. Just remember to smile. They are going to love you.”

  Ascending the stairs slowly, members of the pack turned to face them. When Rafe got to the bottom of the stairs, the music stopped. Members of the pack gathered around, waiting to hear the Alpha. When a hush fell over the crowd, Rafe began.

  “Thank you for joining us tonight. I would like to introduce my mate, Mina. It was her idea to bring back the traditional Yule celebration at Black Paw. We have a lot to be thankful for this year as we welcome many new pack members and friends into our ranks. Here’s to another blessed year.”

  Applause erupted from the pack. Grace and Beth joined Rafe and Mina.

  Grace raised her voice once the applause ended. “The food has been served.”

  Mina and Rafe grabbed a bite to eat, then met with each family in the pack. She was surprised to find that Rafe had a personal relationship with each and every member. They joked with one another, they laughed, and teased.

  They presented each woman and child with a small gift in honor of the Yule celebration. Mina didn’t think she had ever been hugged so much. An honest to goodness smile never left her face. It warmed Rafe’s heart to see the ghosts of the past disappearing from her ice-blue eyes. With time, love, and patience, he knew he could chase away the rest of her fears.

  As for him, he had never been happier. What he thought was happiness before was nothing more than loneliness making excuses for not needing a mate. Now that Rafe had found his true mate, he had no idea how he ever lived without her.

  The End

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author, Melanie James, is the author of more than a dozen books. She grew up in western Pennsylvania before heading off to Chicago, seeking new adventures. She found life in a big city fun for a while and even met the love of her life there. Melanie quickly tired of the hustle and bustle of the concrete jungle and settled down with her one true love in northeast Wisconsin.

  Melanie has two kids, three step-kids, a beautiful daughter-in-law, and the cutest grandbaby. She also has two dogs and two cats that often make appearances in her books.

  She loves to hear from her readers and fans. You can connect with her online:

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  If you enjoyed reading Fur Ever Yours she’d be eternally grateful if you’d let the world know!

  Review it.

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  Recommend it.

  You can help others find this book by recommending it! It’s easy. Just tell them! Seriously! Social media is a great platform to spread the word in reader groups and discussion boards. If you love the books or leave a review, feel free to let her know at authormelaniejames@gmail.com so she can thank you with a personal email. Your support means more than you’ll ever know! Thank you!

  Books by Melanie James

  Literal Leigh Romance Diaries

  Accidental Leigh

  Serious Leigh

  Hopeful Leigh

  Haunting Leigh

  Joyful Leigh

  Literal Leigh Romance Diaries: Complete Boxed Set

  Literal Leigh Marriage Diaries

  Disastrous Leigh

  Literal Leigh Spin-offs

  Gertie’s Paranormal Plantation

  Karma Inc.

  Mission Impawsible: A Karma Inc. Novella

  Éveiller Drive

  Ava & Will

  Kara & Dave

  Laura & Alan

  Jamie & Brad

  Ashley & Jeff

  Valerie & Greg

  Éveiller Drive Boxed Set

  Stand Alones

  Conjuring Darkness

  A Valentine’s Surprise

  A Deadly Obsession

  Christmas with the Beast

  A Conduit Series Novella

  by Conner Kressley and Rebecca Hamilton

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHORS

  Christmas with the Beast is a spin-off standalone from the Conduit Series, taking place outside of the Conduit Series timeline. It does not line up to follow or precede any of the previous or upcoming titles and can be enjoyed separately by series fans and newcomers alike.

  Chapter 1

  If only our experience while visiting Hope’s Bluff would have been as beautiful as the view on the way in. Instead, we were driving head first into our very own holiday horror show, completely unaware of the mischief and danger that lay ahead.

  *

  When the mountains came into view, I could hardly believe my eyes. There had always been a kind of beauty I never thought existed in real life—one I assumed was reserved for postcards and Travel Channel documentaries. Things didn’t look like this in reality. Snow-covered mountains didn’t reach up into the clouds like earth’s fingers stretching to heaven. Spruce trees weren’t this green. Skies weren’t this pure and blue. Life wasn’t this good.

  Except it was, or so it had seemed at the time.

  I leaned forward in the seat like a newbie model who had just walked in to her very first catwalk event. “My God, look at this place.”

  Abram smiled. “It’s really something, isn’t it?”

  Looking over at him, I realized I was experiencing all of this because of him. And none of it could hold a candle to the man sitting next to me.

  Like the skies, and the trees, and the mountains, Abram was an unrealistic beauty. I wasn’t supposed to be this fortunate. I was no one. Charisse Bellamy: a washed up plus-sized model who ran away from New York with her tail between her legs to mourn the death of her mother and fade off into a life she never wanted.

  And I probably would have stayed that person, too, if not for Abram.

  “It should be a sin to keep places like this a secret,” I said, eyeing the snow-coated roadsides that presented like a Winter Wonderland. “When was the last time you came here?”

  Abram took a left at a sign that read “Welcome to Hope’s Bluff, where every day is a miracle.”

  “1962, I think. Maybe ‘63.”

  I grinned at him and shook my head. 1963 was over fifty years ago, and Abram would have been well over seventy-five even then. But with jet-black hair; dark, mysterious eyes; and a body that made me sweat every time it crossed my mind, he didn’t look a day over twenty-five. I guess that was one of the perks of being an immortal beast.

  “It was hands down the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen,” he said, staring out the window with the sort of longing I imagined fifty years away from something would give you. His hand found mine. “Or it used to be anyway.”

  I squeezed his hand. “I hope you know that flattery will
get you everywhere.”

  “Is that so, Ms. Bellamy?” he said, his voice dropping to a huskier tone.

  I knew that tone, and I knew when he called me Ms. Bellamy instead of Char, it meant he was having dirty thoughts about me. About us. Thoughts I could not wait to see realized. I never let on to that, though.

  “So what is there to do in this fabled town of yours?” I asked, resting my head against his sculpted shoulder.

  “You’ll see soon enough.” He tipped his chin toward the windshield. “Now, keep your eyes peeled. It’s just around the bend.”

  “Keep my eyes peeled? Just around the bend?” I chuckled. “You sound like an old man.”

  “What can I say?” he said, rounding the corner. “I’m vintage.”

  I gave him one last smile as the town came into view. I braced myself, readying my eyes to behold the most exquisite sight this side of Milan fashion week. But as we neared Main Street, Abram’s red Mercedes slowing to a near crawl, I began to think maybe Abram’s recollection might be a little off.

  Instead of glowing Christmas lights, tinsel-lined street lamps, and a glorious tree in the center the likes of which apparently would put New York City to shame, Abram and I came to a stop in the middle of nothing.

  Absolutely nothing.

  There were no decorations. No lights. Even the scant few people milling the street looked sad and disheveled. The paint on the buildings that surrounded the small town’s heart was chipped and faded. Trash overflowed from their bins, and litter scattered the streets.

  Across the street, on the siding of a closed-down general store with a darkened porch light, red spray paint scrawled the words, “He sees you when you’re sleeping.”

  “Does that count as holiday spirit?” I muttered, motioning to the vandalism.

  The sky seemed darker over this town—only this town. It had only been seconds, and already I disliked this Hope’s Bluff. This place was giving me the creeps.

  Abram threw the car in park and stepped out into the middle of the street. I followed him, shielding myself from what was the coldest blast of air I had felt since leaving Connecticut.

  Abram spun in a slow circle, running his fingers through his hair as his brow pulled lower over his eyes. “This isn’t right.”

  “It’s been fifty years, Abram. Maybe it was naïve of us to think things hadn’t changed.”

  “I guess…” he said, his gaze shifting around the wreckage of a place he once loved. “You’re probably right.”

  But I knew that look. Abram thought there was something else going on here. Something deeper. Something darker.

  If only that had been enough for us to turn around and leave.

  “Look,” I said, biting my tongue and deciding to make the best of things. “We’re already here, and it’s Christmas Eve. This place might not be ideal…or particularly sanitary,” I added, glancing at the trash pile beside us. “But I’m with you, and its Christmas. There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

  “I might have to hold you to that,” he said, pulling me so close that our bodies pressed together.

  “You can hold me to whatever you’d like, sir.” I grinned but, catching sight of a sour faced woman who was looking at us as if we were stripping on the street, I amended. “You were saying something about a hotel?”

  *

  Since everything in town was pretty much within walking distance (something Abram described as ‘quaint charm’), Abram pulled the car into a space on the side of the road and we strolled the five-minutes to the hotel.

  The Northern Star Inn was a cozy-looking place, Abram had that much right. Brown-boarded with a rustic red roof, it stood out like a literal log cabin nestled into the side of a mountain.

  It took my breath away as we neared it, though I couldn’t help but notice that the lodge, like the rest of the town, was completely devoid of holiday decorations.

  “What about this place?” I asked as we moved toward the front door. “Has it changed much since the ‘60s?”

  Abram grabbed the handle. It didn’t budge at first but, pushing it hard, he was able to wrench it open. “Doesn’t look like it. Door still sticks.”

  We moved into the lobby—a dark, dank space lit only by a hanging lantern and whatever ambient light came in through the windows.

  “This is…something,” I said, trying hard not to let my disappointment shine through.

  Hell, at least something would be shining in this damn place.

  “Hello?” A voice asked from somewhere unseen. “Are you… How did you get in here?”

  “We walked,” I answered flatly.

  “The door was locked.” A tall, thin man with an angular face and coke-bottle spectacles popped up from behind the front desk at the far end of the room.

  “Not very well, apparently,” Abram answered, shooting me a look. Did he know it had been locked? Did he use his beast strength to jar it open? Is that what he meant by ‘sticking’? “We have a reservation.”

  “You most certainly do not!” The man narrowed his eyes. “We’re not—we’re not open today. Not today.”

  “The reservation is under Bellamy,” I said. “I called about it myself. Gave the girl my credit card info and everything.”

  “Girl?” he asked, shaking his head. “Stupid Rachel.” His fingers flew across the keyboard and, sighing, he looked up at us. “Yeah. There it is. Listen, the girl’s new. She should have known better than to rent you a room tonight.”

  The man moved from behind the desk. He was even more ridiculous-looking without the mahogany barrier cutting half of him from view. He towered nearly a head taller than Abram—which seemed nearly impossible—but was about half Abram’s girth.

  “I’ll have the money returned to your card as promptly as your bank will allow. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there’s much to do and—as you can see—I’m only one man.” He motioned toward the door. “You can exit the way you came in.”

  Abram folded his arms over his chest. “We’ll do no such thing.”

  “Excuse me?” the man said, stumbling back a few steps.

  “It’s Christmas Eve, and we’ve driven a very long way to be here. A very long way. Now you will give us a room.”

  The man had been twisting his fingers together in some kind of nervous tick, but now he stood straighter, held his hands stiller. “Absolutely not!”

  “You will. You’ll do it with a smile on your face because, if you don’t, I’ll stop asking so nicely.” He glared at the man. “You saw what I did to the door.”

  The man looked at him, then at me, then back at Abram. “Would it do any good to tell you we’re all booked up?”

  “Not with an empty parking lot, it wouldn’t. Now get my key.”

  I took Abram’s arm and pulled him back toward the door. “What are you doing? That guy could call the police.”

  “And tell them what?” Abram asked, dark eyes driving into me. “We have a reservation.”

  “We could go anywhere. It’s not worth the hassle.”

  “Except we can’t. It’s almost dark out, on the night of a full moon. We’re at least an hour away from anything else. I’m not sure I can hold the beast in that long.” He took my hand. “Besides, something is going on here. Don’t tell me you can’t feel it.”

  I bit my lip. Ever since I found out about my otherworldly abilities, things like this had sort of just kept happening to us. Everywhere we went, every place we stepped foot in, seemed to be a den for magical disturbances. It was like I was that old woman from Murder She Wrote, and I was going witch hunting.

  “Yeah,” I admitted. “I feel it. Something’s off about this place. But, what else is new. It’s always some—”

  “This place is important to me, Charisse,” he said, his expression firm and unyielding. “And I believe it needs our help. We’re staying.”

  “Fine,” I grumbled. When he got like that, there was no budging him, and I wasn’t about to ruin our holiday over which hotel we slept in. “If i
t’s important to you, we’ll see it through.” I looked around this depressing place again. “I’m sure I can make the best of it.”

  “That’s why I love you.” He smiled, leaned down, and lit me up with a kiss that was all the Christmas present I needed. “I’ll go get the luggage. Will you be okay with him?”

  “Shortstack over there?” I scoffed, motioning toward the front desk clerk and the abnormally tall rail of a man. “I think I’ll be okay.”

  “Shortstack,” Abram said to the man while grinning at me. “Give her the key.”

  Abram headed out just as the man approached me, hesitantly holding out the key. “If you’re sure you wouldn’t prefer to make reservations elsewhere?”

  “I’m sure,” I said, and I took the key before he could change his mind.

  “You don’t have to do this,” he whispered, some untold horror shining in his eyes. He bent even closer to me and added, “It’s not too late to leave.”

  Abram strode back in with our luggage in hand. “Is everything okay here?”

  The man straightened suddenly, hands clasped behind his back. “Yes,” he said. “I was just telling your lovely companion where to find room 227.”

  I stared down at the key as a strange, foreboding energy swirled in my stomach. This was it. Something was definitely off here, and we were sticking around to find out what.

  Chapter 2

  I marched up the stairs, toward room 227. The stress of the drive was starting to weigh on me. After fourteen hours on the road, I needed a shower and something more to eat than Twinkies and Doritos. And I needed to get it done before the pull of Abram’s beast curse made being out in public too dangerous.

  I settled in front of the room, sliding what had to be the world’s last key-shaped hotel key into the doorknob.

  Another door opened behind me, and I turned. A woman with swept-up sandy hair and the brightest green eyes I had ever seen stared back at me. Behind her, on the wall of her hotel room, was a wreath—the first sign of Christmas I had seen since passing through the town limits.