The Billionaire Shifter's True Alpha: Billionaire Shifters Club #5

Home > Other > The Billionaire Shifter's True Alpha: Billionaire Shifters Club #5 > Page 1
The Billionaire Shifter's True Alpha: Billionaire Shifters Club #5 Page 1

by Diana Seere




  The Billionaire Shifter’s True Alpha

  The Billionaire Shifters Club #5

  Diana Seere

  Copyright © 2017 by Diana Seere

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  Cover design by Diana Seere

  Cover photos from depositphotos.com

  Join my New Releases and Sales newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/beUZnr

  Contents

  The Billionaire Shifter’s True Alpha (Billionaire Shifters Club #5)

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  The Billionaire Shifters Club Series

  About the Author

  The Billionaire Shifter’s True Alpha (Billionaire Shifters Club #5)

  By Diana Seere

  Sophia Stanton is a confident billionaire bear shifter who enjoys the finer things in life -- especially fine men. Unlike her twin brother, Derry, she has no plans to settle down with just one mate. Why limit yourself to a single taste when you can have a little lick of everything?

  She's rich. Powerful. Well-educated. A statuesque, sexually liberated woman who towers over most men and who turns into one of the most fearsome beasts in North America.

  What man -- or shifter -- could give her what she truly needs?

  Zach Hayden was an ordinary guy until an accident in Sophia’s brother’s research lab left him howling at the moon. Turned into a werewolf by the same serum he helped to create, biochemist Zach is now seven inches taller, has seventy pounds of new muscle, and, well -- everything got bigger.

  Unconvinced he’s adjusted to his transformation, the Stantons confine Zach at their family compound in Montana, where Sophia offers to teach him how to manage his new powers—and libido. But when they both hear The Beat, an old shifter legend that guarantees they are made for each other, is falling in love their fate -- or is it just wishful thinking?

  When her powerful family questions his motives and powers, can Zach rise to the occasion—

  And become Sophia’s true alpha?

  Chapter 1

  “Tea?”

  Asher Stanton’s casual inquiry made Zachary Hayden go cold. Zach knew that someone as powerful as the eldest Stanton didn’t give a hoot about whether he was comfortable and certainly wasn’t monitoring his needs.

  Before Zach could reply, Stanton sighed, the man’s strong face like a slab of polished stone with two glittering gemstones for eyes.

  “Of course. You’re American. How silly of me. Coffee?” An eyebrow rose along with his voice, the British clip thick and aristocratic, designed to shrivel balls. The eyes betrayed nothing.

  Squaring his shoulders, Zach sat up taller. Broader. Bigger than before.

  Before the lab accident.

  Caffeine was the last substance he needed circulating through his bloodstream right now.

  Well, second to last. Shifter serum took top prize in that category, but as Zach scratched his forearm absentmindedly, trying to buy himself time to answer Stanton’s question, he bitterly recognized that the choice on that issue was long gone.

  They’d just met for the first time, brutal handshakes administered, and now they waited for Zach’s boss to appear so they could get on with business. Important business.

  Life-altering business.

  Asher cleared his throat, the sound a melodic growl filled with the implication that Zach was being rude by not answering his tea inquiry. Since The Incident, Zach’s senses were keener, sharper, picking up on emotional vibrations and social cues the average human would never catch.

  Zach was anything but average now.

  And today Zach would be discharged from his extended stay at LupiNex. Asher Stanton was the final hurdle.

  “Sure,” he barked out, simply to end the tension, half hoping Asher would leave to acquire the drink, half hoping all these petty macho domination games would continue so Zach could see what his body did in the presence of a pack leader. His pack leader.

  It was anyone’s guess.

  The door opened suddenly, too soon for Asher to have called a secretary. Both men turned to look. A woman’s blue-cloth-covered leg crossed the wedge of space made by the open door, the click of a high heel on the office floor making Zach flinch, the sound triggering a reaction like aluminum foil on an amalgam filling.

  Navy wool slacks, shined two-toned heels. A white lab jacket, so similar to the one he’d donned for the past decade between undergrad, graduate school, and work.

  Flaming red curls hanging over one shoulder, her long ponytail coiffed with care.

  “Dr. Baird,” Asher said, standing suddenly. Formality was the man’s idea of comfort, Zach realized, while Asher went through the motions as Dr. Samantha Baird joined the meeting. She’d been his boss for the past three years here at LupiNex, the first to recruit him for the shifter DNA project, an initiative so ludicrously fringe he’d had no choice but to join.

  And a project that had sealed his fate in more ways than one.

  “Mr. Stanton,” she said, voice controlled but her cheeks pink, eyes bright. She turned to Zach and caught his eyes, her look softening. “Zach.”

  She reminded him of his grandmother, now long dead. The caring eyes.

  “Your timing is impeccable,” Asher said to her. “We require a coffee-and-tea tray for three. Cream and sugar.”

  Her face froze, still looking at Zach, mouth tightening, eyes going hard behind her glasses.

  “Excuse me?” She didn’t bother to look at Stanton as she asked the rhetorical question. The man was scowling at papers in a manila folder. Zach’s gaze skittered to the folder’s tab, where he found his name scrawled in black Sharpie.

  Of course.

  “Make certain you bring whatever beverage you prefer as well,” Stanton said, not looking up. “While I shall endeavor to keep this meeting brief, we have much to discuss. Refreshments might help.”

  “I prefer nothing,” Sam said smoothly, recovering step by step as she walked past Zach, lowering herself into a chair to his left. “I just had a latte.” Her eyes narrowed as she glared at the top of Asher’s head. “A double. I’m already quite refreshed, Mr. Stanton.”

  Stanton’s nostrils flared. He gave no other indication of emotional reaction to her rejection of his patronizing assumption. Zach’s body tensed, heat flushing his neck and upper chest, the feeling fleeting but disconcerting. As he inhaled slowly, he smelled it.

  All of it.

  Every bit of subtext in the room had an odor. Sam’s anger, Asher’s annoyance, Zach’s own confusion. Sparks of sexual interest between Sam and Asher literally smelled like sulfur and wine and embarrassingly intimate pheromones, a rich, intoxicating scent that turned Zach into a voyeur.

  Coul
d you be a Peeping Tom with your nose? If yes, then Zach was guilty as hell.

  “It’s fine,” he cut in, breathing through his mouth, arousal snaking its way across his skin, the scent a contagion. “By the time we’re done, I’d planned to drink something stronger anyhow.” His mouth curled up as Sam examined him, reading his body as much as she listened to his words. He knew before his conscious mind could form the thought that the desire blooming in him wasn’t for her.

  It just was.

  “You’re flushed,” she said, reaching for his wrist. As her fingertips found his pulse, his hand burned. Regulating his temperature had been a problem since The Incident (as he thought of it), his blood running hot. Asher’s eyes locked on the spot where Sam’s fingers met Zach’s skin.

  Zach smelled his frown before he saw it.

  “I’m fine,” he protested, tearing his arm away from Sam, moving in his seat, leaning forward and pressing his elbows into his knees. His hand reached up to rub his freshly shaved chin.

  “Shall we then? Given Dr. Baird’s caffeinated state, this should be quick,” Asher said, eyes on her fingers.

  The ones that had just touched Zach.

  “What’s left to discuss? It’s time for me to go home. Leave LupiNex. I appreciate all the care you’ve given me, and Mr. Stanton—Gavin, I mean—has been more than generous with the settlement regarding my, um…” Zach’s rapid-fire speech died down as he tried to ignore Asher Stanton’s withering look.

  “The lab accident,” Sam interjected. “The serum injection.”

  The Incident.

  Asher held a sheet before him and began reading. “The subject,” he read, eyes moving to glance at Zach, “injected less than two cc’s from a syringe into the tip of his left index finger, plunging third-generation serum made from batch X31 into his body. Three witnesses were present. In less than a second, subject’s eyes turned red. Within three seconds, subject’s body developed fur. Approximately four seconds post-injection, subject’s bone structure elongated, clothing shredding—”

  “We’ve all read the reports, Mr. Stanton,” Sam said. “No need to go over every gruesome detail.”

  “Gruesome.” Zach repeated her word. “What an understatement.” He gave Asher a wry smile. The man didn’t react.

  Zach continued. “I’ll sum it up. Within seconds after accidentally injecting myself with a serum I wasn’t given full information about, I turned into a wolf. According to eyewitnesses, I growled, howled, jumped through a plate glass window dividing a conference room from a hallway, and promptly froze. Within five seconds, my shift devolved, leaving me with seventeen broken bones, a torn meniscus, rearranged organs, a complete alteration in my bone structure and musculature, and enough reconstructive surgery over the past eight months to make me a candidate for the Witness Protection Program.”

  No one in the room laughed.

  “I’ve healed. It’s time to let me go.” He’d used the same words three weeks ago, his tone a plea. This time, it was a demand.

  “You left out the part describing the fact that you possess shifter abilities, Zachary,” Asher intoned.

  “Don’t call me that,” he said sharply. “It’s Zach.” Zachary was what his parents had called him when they were alive. The asshole sitting across the desk didn’t deserve to call him by his full name.

  Asher didn’t blink. “You possess powers no human has ever held. And your appearance is notably… changed.” Pictures inside the folder in Asher’s hands showed him before. Five feet nine, one hundred fifty pounds, a lab rat. Glasses and an old Michigan hoodie. Size nine men’s shoe.

  As he stretched his restless legs before him and reached up to scratch his chin, he could see the after in his body. Seven inches of new height. Seventy new pounds of solid muscle. Size thirteen shoe.

  Everything had grown. He willed himself not to think about certain body parts, ones that twitched as his blood pumped fiercely through him, his nose catching the wafting scent of a woman’s perfume from the nearby elevator. Electricity shot up the root of his cock, making his gut clench. Being watched twenty-four seven in a clinical setting for eight months wasn’t doing him any favors sexually, either.

  Sam’s turn to cock an eyebrow. Zach could feel a lie in the air, as if Asher and Sam weren’t quite telling him everything, but couldn’t explain why.

  “Look. It’s not like I want to be a wolf. I just won’t shift. It’s simple,” he declared, pinging his attention between Sam and Asher.

  “If it were simple, we wouldn’t be having this meeting. Your powers are considerably more complex than you realize,” Asher replied.

  “He’s right,” Sam added. “You can’t just go back to your regular life.”

  Zach slid the rolled cuff of his white business shirt up to reveal scars that laced the long lines of his bones. “You think I’ll just ‘go back’?” He lifted a section of his wavy brown hair off his forehead, fingertips grazing the thick scarring there. “Do I need to show you the rest?” He resisted reaching for his belt buckle.

  “No. We’re well acquainted with all the damage to your body,” Sam said in a pained voice.

  Asher’s eyes just narrowed.

  “I can’t ‘go back’ to a life that isn’t mine anymore.”

  “Is this about money?” Asher asked drolly, a touch of cynicism obvious.

  “It’s about freedom.”

  The man’s dismissive huff made the hair on Zach’s neck stand up. “Mr. Hayden, I assure you, freedom is the very last priority you should have at this moment. Security is considerably more important.”

  “Fine to say when you’re free. Tell me how important security is when you feel like a prisoner.” Zach was on his feet, hands in fists, fury rising in his chest, a lump he couldn’t swallow down. “I’m out of here.”

  Sam looked at Asher, the two communicating some thought that made Zach pause.

  “The shifting is under control?” Asher asked her, his tone clear; there was only one acceptable answer.

  “In a controlled environment, yes,” she replied, clinical and dry.

  “You haven’t tested him out there? In the real world?”

  “Mr. Stanton, how, exactly, do you suggest we ‘test’ Zach’s shifter powers and ability to manage his shifting in the human world? There isn’t an ethics board for this. Peer-reviewed studies don’t exist. We’re making this up as we go along.”

  Zach winced. Those last words were kryptonite to a scientist.

  “He’s healed?”

  “Yes. All the damage from the initial incident has been addressed. His appearance is, ah… altered. As you can see.”

  Zach resisted the urge to flex a bicep. Turn green. Pick up a car. Roar.

  “I’m leaving,” he reiterated.

  “Can you control yourself around women?” Asher asked, his voice as casual as if he were asking Zach’s golf handicap.

  Zach avoided Sam’s eyes. “What?”

  “My kind experiences uncontrolled shifting during two phases: puberty and… Well, the other one isn’t important. Silly old legend.” He smirked. “Can you control your shifting around women?”

  “I haven’t shifted since The Incident.”

  Asher looked shocked. “Not once?”

  “No.”

  “Have you tried?”

  “No.”

  “Could you shift if you wanted to?”

  Zach’s fingertips tingled, his toes spreading, thighs thickening as rage fueled the prodromal symptoms of a shift. A thick, earthy scent of a woman a few floors away fed into the deepening change in him, making linear thought difficult.

  “Yes,” he said in a voice darker than he’d intended.

  “But you can control it?” Asher sounded skeptical.

  “Of course,” he and Sam replied in unison, though she gave him major side-eye.

  A long, slow breath came out of Asher, his attention suddenly entirely devoted to Sam. “I defer to your professional opinion.”

  “I suspect
you never defer,” she shot back, “but it is a relief to know you view me as a professional.”

  “You created this mess with the serum. I have no choice but to trust you to solve the problems related to it.”

  “I’m not a problem,” Zach retorted. A blur of colored smoke and ribbons, of music and sweet spun sugar danced on his skin, the scent of some unnamed woman like fast-growing morning glories wrapping around his cock. She was in the building somewhere, his body thick where it shouldn’t be, his restraint thinning as he stood on the threshold of freedom.

  Now? Of all times to pick up the scent of a woman he couldn’t ignore, it had to be now?

  “But you are a complication. If it were as simple as letting you go home, trust me, we would,” Asher said, brow furrowed. He looked at Sam and waited, impassive.

  Zach’s heart slammed against his ribs, the beat matching sex thrusts, going faster and faster until he felt the fine beads of sweat under his collar, his armpits on fire, his lip soaking. He had to get out of here now.

  He had to find her.

  “Trust me,” he said calmly, fighting to hide the struggle within. “Besides, if I’m wrong, I’ll just come back.” That was a lie. Every word out of his mouth was a lie, rushing out of him pell-mell, his urgent need to go and find her making him say whatever it took.

  Asher blinked exactly once. “If you are wrong, humans could die. If you are wrong, you could reveal our kind. Our survival depends on your discretion, much to my chagrin. You’ve hardly proven yourself trustworthy.”

  Rage pumped Zach up, making him lean in, aggressive and dominant. “If anyone has anything to prove, it’s you.”

 

‹ Prev