Her dad had moved to the Ozarks after his culling—the tribe’s form of witness relocation, and he’d fallen in love with Elizabeth Langston. He changed his name to Vincent Langston after they’d achieved a true mating—one that produced a child. Her mom and dad had been happy for a while, or so Lizzy had been told. Unfortunately, the mob had a long reach and had executed both her parents, their bodies dumped in the Norfork Lake two years after her birth.
The divers found them on Christmas Eve during a winter event.
It wasn’t that she missed her parents. How could she miss people she’d never known? But she saw the way other parents were with their children, and while Donovan had made her feel wanted in his home, she’d never had the same kind of relationship she envied from her fellow first gens. No, she didn’t miss her parents, but she had missed having parents. Every Christmas Eve, she was forced to remember that loss. How could she celebrate the anniversary of her parent’s murders?
Coy mumbled something in Spanish, and Lizzy wished she’d paid better attention in her foreign language classes. Just the sound of his voice, though, made her stomach dip.
Gah! This man. His skin began to warm. Lizzy’s body tingled in her shins, her thighs, her belly, her breasts, and her cheeks. Every part of her touching him had come alive. She wanted more. She craved more. Coy’s scent was masculine, a combination of wood and leather. Underneath, he had a more natural musky aroma that drove Lizzy wild.
She leaned in close and inhaled the back of his hair. Strawberry and vanilla. It had to be his shampoo or conditioner, but, God, he made her hungry and not for food.
Lycanosapiens were not shy about their bodies. Being a part of the tribe meant the naked form was something to be admired, but it wasn’t inherently sexual. So why was moisture gathering between her thighs, and why were her nipples standing at rigid attention?
Coy turned his body until they were face to face. She felt his erection press against her thigh as he adjusted his position. He stared into her eyes, his gaze ravenous with desire.
“What are you doing?” Lizzy asked. Her breath hitched when he trailed his fingers down her shoulder to the bend of her waist, her hip, the curve of her thigh. “Oh, God,” she moaned.
“Your skin feels electric when I touch you.” His caramel-colored eyes drank her in, his nostrils flared, and his full lips parted. “You smell of sweet spice and damp fur,” he said. He twirled a lock of her hair between his fingers. “And your hair, it’s not just blonde. It’s as if every strand is as unique in color as a snowflake is in shape.”
Oh, no. He was taking on the first traits of the change. She hadn’t shared her blood with him, yet his senses were heightening. She didn’t understand how, but she couldn’t deny the reality. Relief flooded her, even though she’d apparently culled a man without his permission. On the up side, the transfiguration of his DNA from human to lycanosapien increased his chances of surviving from five percent to ninety percent.
“Your heartbeat is like a drum in my ears, barely outpacing my own.” His pupils undulated between pinpoint constriction and full-out dilation. “What the hell is going on?”
How was she supposed to explain to a human who didn’t know the supernatural existed that he was about to join the club?
He rolled her until she was beneath him, pinned by his weight and gaze. His eyes were wild, primal. He straddled her thighs and held her arms down above her head. Lizzy didn’t fight him. He wasn’t trying to attack her. Transformed humans worked on pure instinct like new pups, wanting to discover...well, everything. She watched him as he dipped his head and sniffed her neck, her hair, her breasts.
His hot breath gusted over one of her nipples. Lizzy bit down a groan as her lower bits began to throb under the heat of him. What am I doing?
When he licked her nipple, already a hard, taut nub, Lizzy moaned. The rough touch of his tongue as he laved and licked sent her spinning toward the edge. The stubble on his cheeks brushed her chest. She trembled, her thighs parting, as she squirmed with need.
“This isn’t a good idea,” she said, but she didn’t try to stop him.
Coy looked up, his intense gaze catching hers. “I want you, Lizzy. Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” she said, her voice strangled and hoarse.
He took her nipple into his mouth, sucking as he teased her with his tongue.
She stretched out, her body aching for him, all of him. “I want you too.”
He kissed his way down her belly and let go of her wrists so he could part her legs more. He rubbed his face against her inner thigh, inhaling her scent deep into his lungs.
“Fuck, I can’t get enough.” His brows began to thicken, and his nose widened with the first signs of a physical mutation. Not much, but enough for her to notice.
It took strength to change this quickly, strength and willpower only an alpha could manage. His fingers dug into her thighs as he pushed her legs back, and he leaned down, his mouth warm against her wet pussy, and tasted her. He glanced up her belly, his face slack with lust, his eyes alight with raw need. His mouth had shifted a little, and she knew his teeth would be sharp.
He bit down gently on her clit, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough that the throbbing grew even more intense. Her sharp inhalation brought a predatory smile to his face. Coy Vega did not fucking play.
He sucked her sensitive bundle, flicking his tongue against the tip as his teeth scraped the sides. Lizzy grunted with pleasure, squirming until Coy rose up, his arms looped about her knees, and pinned her shoulders to the ground. He brought his face within inches of hers. He bared his teeth, placing them against her neck, and chuffed—a sign of dominance. He truly was alpha, even if he didn’t understand what it meant.
Lizzy held still, submitting, which frankly surprised the hell out of her. She’d never allowed a man to dominate her—not at home, not at work, and certainly not in bed. But Coy Vega wasn’t any man. In her soul, the soul of a lycanosapien with thousands of years of instinct written in her DNA, she knew he was her mate.
“No,” she said aloud.
Coy stopped. He pulled his head back, and he looked at her. Her “no” had brought him to an abrupt halt.
“What are you?” There was a hint of alarm in his voice that startled Lizzy. He put his hand to his face, moving his fingertips along the new landscape. “This isn’t real. Is it?” He looked at his hands. His fingers had elongated; his nails were thickened claws. “What am I?”
Lizzy, who had never been one to mince words, bluntly said, “You’re a werewolf.”
Chapter Three
“SO YOU’RE TELLING me that you’re the big dog, er, wolf I hit with my car. You bit me, and now I’m turning into a werewolf?” Coy asked for the third time.
Every time Lizzy explained the concept it seemed less real. Werewolves were made-up monsters. Not real. He looked down at his claws and watched them recede into his fingers as his standard, chewed-up fingernails returned.
Werewolves are not real, he told himself. He looked at his hands again. They looked ordinary, his right middle and index fingers were crooked from breaking them during a fight when he was only sixteen. He had callouses on his palms from hard work and working out. In his job, he had to be physically fit and alert.
Alert. The word triggered something inside Coy, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Sounds bombarded his newly acute hearing. The trickling drip at the back of the cave, the rustle of tree branches outside the entrance, the soft whisper of Lizzy’s heartbeat, the quickening of her breathing, and the blood thrumming in his veins.
He put his hands to his ears. “What’s happening?” he said. His throat was dry, his voice raspy. “It’s too much.”
Lizzy placed her hand on his leg, and her gentle caress quieted the noise. “The change can be an adjustment. Your senses will heighten and sometimes dull. You’ll see things, hear things, and feel things like you’ve never experienced before. It can take a while for your brain and body
to process all the new stimuli.” Her eyes narrowed, and she pursed her lips. “You shouldn’t be transforming this fast.” She sounded worried. “At least, I don’t think so. All the humans I’ve seen are unconscious when their bodies are going through this.”
“You knock people out to make them into werewolves.” He couldn’t keep the incredulity out of his voice. He wanted to believe her. He’d seen his body do strange things, and his senses were heightened, but what she was saying was too crazy. Maybe she’d drugged him. “Did you give me something?”
She raised her brow, her expression terse. “Other than a bad case of werewolf?” Lizzy shook her head. “Jesus, I didn’t dope you if that’s what you think. It’s not like you would have been my first choice for a tribe member anyhow.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“First, you look like a gangster.”
“And second?”
Lizzy pursed her lips. “Give me a minute. I’ll think of something.”
Man, she was sexy as hell.
“Like I was saying, my kind, lycanosapiens, we sometimes cull humans into our tribe, because, without new members, we would eventually die out. Go extinct.”
“So you kidnap people and turn them into lycosippythings.”
“No.” She rolled her eyes so far back all he could see were the whites. “Lycanosapiens. It’s the technical term for my kind. And we invite people to be culled. We don’t turn humans into werewolves without their full understanding and permission. You’re an anomaly. I saw the bite mark on your arm, but a bite alone shouldn’t change you.”
The wolf’s teeth had broken the skin on his arm, but c’mon, that was all Hollywood, right? It seemed too incredible and far-fetched that Lizzy was a wolf, and he was becoming one.
“I don’t understand any of this.” He rubbed his face. He grew extremely conscious of her hand still on his thigh. Her warmth soaked into his skin. Her touch had initially calmed him. Now, he felt every fluttering pulse in her fingers. He fought back the urge to bring her hand to his lips and kiss each fingertip. “Why am I so drawn to you?”
“That’s a little trickier to explain,” she said. “I’m not all that certain of the why or how myself.” She brushed back her hair from her eyes and shook her head. “I wish Conor were here,” she mumbled.
Coy snarled, anger rose inside him that twisted his guts in a knot. So forceful it surprised and frightened him. There was a fondness in her voice when she’d said the man’s name. An affection that something inside him instantly hated. He squeezed his hands into fists and could smell the metallic tinge of blood as it dripped from the small slices in his palm.
“What’s wrong?” asked Lizzy, her voice high with stress.
Coy grabbed her wrists and yanked her close to him. He wrapped his arms around her in a firm embrace, his fingers wending her hair. He tugged her head back so he could gaze into her true-blue eyes. The urge to fight for her, to make her his own so no other man could claim her, overwhelmed Coy. He wouldn’t let anyone come between him and Lizzy. Not a single soul.
What have you done to me? he wanted to ask, but instead, he said, “He can’t have you.” His voice was guttural, his tone harsh. He rubbed his face against hers. “You. Are. Mine.”
***
Energy and excitement writhed and wriggled through Lizzy like a living creature. The part of her that didn’t need or want any man in her life was bitch slapped by the part that wanted and needed Coy Vega. His declaration—his claim—made her stomach clench and her heart race.
She could barely think with him this close, and the tug on her hair... Jesus, this man knew how to take charge. When he’d asked her why he was so drawn to her, she hadn’t wanted to tell him about the mating chemistry. She hadn’t known how to explain the concept to a human when she could hardly fathom it herself. Yet, she certainly knew what he was feeling. The animalistic impulse, made of pure necessity and yearning desire, was a craving so intense, she’d give up everything if it meant she could have him.
His hot breath licked against her neck. He tightened his hold. “Do you hear me? You’re mine, Lizzy Langston.”
“Yes, I hear you,” she said, swallowing the gathering saliva. “Just stay calm.”
He leaned his head back to stare at her face again. The pupils in his amber-brown eyes, the color of whiskey, flared and contracted like his nostrils as if he were trying to see something or smell something he couldn’t quit catch. “Who is this Conor?”
“Who?” Her pheromone-addled brain couldn’t grasp his question.
He shook her, not hard, but enough to make her focus. “Conor,” he said again.
“Oh.” She barely remembered mentioning him. “He’s scientist. A lycanosapien like me. And he’s mated already.”
“Mated?”
“Yes, to the love of his life. He waited twenty years to have her as his mate. He’s just a friend, almost like a brother.” Conor and Ana already had a baby girl now and another on the way, for the love of God. Coy didn’t look convinced, so Lizzy added, “He has no interest in me, and I am not interested in him.”
“You don’t want him?” His grip on her eased.
“No,” she said, bringing her arms up to encircle his neck. “I want you.”
A growl escaped Coy as he pressed his lips to Lizzy’s. She opened for him immediately, welcoming the invasion of his tongue. She drank him in, their hands roaming and exploring. Coy groaned as he pushed her down to her back, his hips moving between her legs. His hard erection, held back only by his boxer briefs, rubbed against the wet heat of her sex. The friction as he moved against her, thrusting and grinding as he feasted from her lips, exhilarated her.
Lizzy moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist and rocking her hips into him.
“Oh, God.” Heat and pressure pooled like hot lava to her groin. She burned for Coy, wanted him, all of him, but she was the adult in this relationship. She’d had over eighty years to learn how to control her animal side. It wasn’t fair to mate with him. Not without his full knowledge of what it entailed. So, why couldn’t she make herself stop?
She raked his back, her claws deep in his flesh, and his sharp bark of pain was better than a bucket of ice water. She scrambled out from under him, putting several feet between them. His blood discolored her fingernails, and she resisted the urge to taste him. He hadn’t changed yet. His form would be fragile, less able to heal, and she’d sliced open his back.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “You are all over the place with your emotions, and it’s affecting me.”
“Is that because you bit me? Because you’re my maker?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s not it.”
“Then what? Why did I feel the urge to kill a man I’ve never even met?”
“Because you’re a new werewolf. And to top it off, you have mating-brain.” Who was she kidding, she had mating-brain too! She had to get out of the cave. Had to get away from Coy. This near to him, she couldn’t think.
She sprinted to the mouth of the cave.
“Lizzy! Wait!” he shouted.
She gave him one last look over her shoulder and darted out into the snow.
***
Coy rose to his feet, but with great effort. It felt as if his blood had converted to liquid fire again and everything around him turned gray and monochromatic. His legs felt like sandbags, every step a chore. He needed to get to Lizzy, to be with her. Why wouldn’t his fucking body cooperate?
His feet chilled as he stepped out of the cave, but he didn’t feel the cold. Not like he had when he’d dragged the animal to the side of the road. He wore nothing but underwear, and even thought it was below freezing, he was no cooler than if it had been fifty degrees outside. He followed her footprints into the woods, uneasily making his way past outcroppings of rocks, fallen trees, and ditches created by water erosion.
At one point, the impressions of her feet stopped and, paw prints appeared. How much evidence did he need to believe that werewolves
existed? Either he was crazy, hallucinating, dying, or…Lizzy was telling him the truth. Was he becoming a werewolf? And what the hell had she meant by mating-brain? The only thing he knew for certain was, suddenly, nothing made sense without her. She’d said the man, this Conor, had a mate. He wasn’t sure what it meant to be mated, but when Lizzy was near all he could think about was crawling inside the warmth of her body, joining with her, and losing himself completely.
If he was smart, he’d find the nearest road and hitch a ride to Missouri. Not just for his own sake, but for Lizzy’s as well. His life was bad news right now, regardless of what was happening between the two of them. The cartel had nearly caught up to him in Little Rock. He’d left his SUV behind at the motel and had used nearly all his cash to take a cab to the northern border of the city. He didn’t risk jacking a car near where he’d stayed, and he’d chosen an older model car, nothing fancy or flashy, because it wouldn’t ping anyone’s radar. But the cartel had a long reach, even into law enforcement.
The cartel’s resources were greater than Coy’s, which meant they’d figure out the crashed car on the side of the road was his, and a real manhunt would begin. He still didn’t understand why was Manny coming after him. Had someone tipped him off to Coy’s real identity? Or had Coy done something to give himself away?
Yes, if Coy was smart, he’d run. He’d get as far from Lizzy as possible. He was no good for her. No good for himself. He rounded a hill, and the world sharpened into focus again. The clarity in which he saw the world, from the vibrant night sky, every star a bright beacon, to the crisp outline of the trees as they stood like an immense army before him, was like taking his first breath. And in that army, there was she. The white wolf. Lizzy?
Alphas Unwrapped: 21 New Steamy Paranormal Tales of Shifters, Vampires, Werewolves, Dragons, Witches, Angels, Demons, Fey, and More Page 133
