by DD Prince
Wild
A savage alpha
shifter romance
BY DD PRINCE
©COPYRIGHT 2020 – DDPRINCE.COM
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Dedication:
~To my sister~
Who told me she wanted more paranormal romance.
Who supports my crazy dream.
Who is always there for me.
Who sometimes has trouble reading my sex scenes because she can’t help but wonder which parts are derived from my actual sex life. (Uh… Not nearly as many as I’d like…)
Kelly, I fucking love you like crazy.
Author’s Note
Shifter romances don’t all follow the exact same guidelines. There are different elements in world-building that are common, such as a pack hierarchy (alpha, beta, omega), female heat cycles, fated mates, marking with biting, and in some cases – knotting during intercourse (when the male sex organ grows extra-large while inside the woman, locking it in). My hero doesn’t have all the facts about shifter culture due to his upbringing, but learns more about his nature as the story progresses. Shifters and other supernatural beings live in secret in this ‘world’ and in this world, wolf shifters have the ability to shapeshift between their human and wolf form at will. My shifter wolf has hibernated each winter. I’m aware regular wolves don’t.
This story has a very ‘alpha’ hero with animalistic behaviors. In his world, he’s classed as a ‘super-alpha’ so some of his behaviors are extreme.
This is a steamy story with lots of carnal behavior.
This isn’t considered a dark romance by me, but does visit some dark subject matter in part of the story. If you’re already a DD Prince books reader, you won’t find it more graphic than some of my dark romances. If you’re new to me, I advise that there are some scenes readers might find upsetting.
1
Ivy
“Anybody ever tell you that you look like a real-life Anime girl?” He leans forward, way too close to me, so I rear back.
I should not have come here.
I should not ever have let Megan talk me into this weekend. She just accused me of overreacting, but no. No way. This was not kosher – not remotely.
Why did I ignore my instincts back at that gas station when we met up with this guy? My momma and her sister told me, my whole life: Ivy, never ever ignore your gut. And I do. All the bloody time! Why don’t I ever learn?
Megan? She’s a backstabbing witch and that’s why I have no choice but to leave without her. I’m officially done with her completely.
The sales pitch she used: two hundred bucks per person for a luxury waterfront chalet with everything included for the whole weekend. A pool. Hot tub. This place is supposed to have equal numbers guys and girls and be well-stocked with food and booze. Two to a room. We would share a room, she said, unless one of us wanted to spend the night with someone we met, then we’d discuss it. She assured me I wouldn’t be turfed out of my room when I told her that no way would I let a guy move in on me that quickly.
I have been working my butt off for weeks and have had all sorts of family drama going on between my bridezilla sister’s wedding, how my breaking up with a guy who also happens to be in her wedding is me trying to ruin her day, and my parents splitting up with Dad trying to worm his way back in after cheating on Mom, so I convinced myself that I deserved a weekend away. I needed it. I’ve been working my tail off and I deserve it.
Tired of family drama, I decided I’ll ignore them all for the weekend. I’m having a mini family vacation (a vacation from my family).
The reality when we arrived? Chalet? Not quite. Stocked? Depends on your definition of stocked. Luxury? Nope. Not even close.
The reality: A two-bedroom single-story cottage. Not quite a dump, but nothing luxurious about it and it could work for two or maybe four people but no more than that. A hot tub, yes you could say that, but it was outside and filled with leaves. Yep, there was a pool, as advertised, but it’s a small above-ground pool that is neither filled nor likely fillable as it looks like it’s been sitting there empty for a decade. Oh, and it has a giant X on the side made of what looks like several layers of duct tape so filling it would probably not be wise.
I probably wouldn’t have minded so much if everything else were as advertised. Not even close. The waterfront references? I guess… if a swampy pond on the property counts. The large living room has two pull-out couches and there’s a closet with three more air beds in it. No privacy unless you’re lucky enough to get one of the two bedrooms. And they don’t have locks on the doors. In fact, neither does the bathroom.
Uh… nope.
The fridge has some cheap off-brand hot dogs, some beer, and there are some bags of chips and boxes of cereal on the counter along with a big bag of marshmallows. All this is complete with two boxes of wine and a bottle of gut-rot whisky.
There aren’t an equal number of guys and girls here, though, and that’s the biggest problem of them all. I can rough-it for a weekend, sure, but with a bunch of strangers? Worse… a bunch of guys?
There are seven people, but Megan and I are the only girls. The guy who organized this bash scammed us. Or… Megan scammed me. And I’m totally, absolutely done with her. She can stay if she wants to, but I am gone.
I like my creature comforts, sure, but the problem here is less about the cabin and more about the other people here as well as the tone, which is overtly sexual.
She got wasted in less than an hour and talked like a sleazy horndog. Innuendoes up the wazoo! And she is right now in one of the bedrooms with two of the guys. Two! And if that’s not bad enough, she’s left me alone with the other three guys. They’ve been eyeing me like I’m prime rib and also eyeing one another likely trying to determine who is going to make a move.
One, I think, wants me for himself. The one who talked about Anime is the guy who met us at the gas station and something about him just completely creeps me out.
The other two, I’m fairly sure, are hoping I’ll be like Megan and let them both at me together. They look like they’re over in the corner whisper-negotiating.
I am not down for it. None of it. I’m about to find my way out of here. I’m just thinking it over carefully because the guy who wants me for himself? I have a sinking sick feeling that he might be the sort to try to stop me from leaving.
Don’t think I’m a jerk for leaving Megan in a cabin with five men. I tried to talk her out of it. I’d pulled her aside three separate times and she gave me the brush-off each time about my concerns. The third time… before she went to the bedroom with two of them? She was adamant that we were staying.
“What are you gonna do, have a threesome?” I rolled my eyes, totally not serious, but she smiled like a cat that got the cream.
She was having a threesome. With two strangers we met an hour ago!
“I’m not doing anything with any of those guys,” I insisted, keeping my voice low.
“So, don’t. That doesn’t mean I’m not gonna. This is a bucket list item for me, baby. See you in a few hours, or … at work Monday if you decide you have to leave.” She shrugged and turned to go.
“What happened to never leaving a sister behind?”
“You wanna join in?” Her eyebrows rose.
“No. I mean leaving me out here with three men. This whole thing is ridiculous. We don’t know these guys. We need to go.”
I followed her to the counter where she mixed another alcoholic beverage with a heavy hand. “I’m not going. Feel free to leave this sister behind.”
“Don’t think I won’t,” I warned on a whisper.
“Fine.” She shrugged. “Boz or Josh will run me back tomorrow. Or Sunday.”
She sashayed off, winking at the other guys.
“You’re not thinkin’ of goin’, are ya?” The tall and wide grizzly of a guy asks.
This is the one I think wants me to himself and he is creeping me out to the degree it’s difficult to hide that my skin is crawling.
“Naw, I’m good,” I say and sit with my cup of Sprite. I’ve poured it into a glass with ice to make the contents questionable. It’s straight Sprite that I brought myself. They don’t need to know that.
And I wait exactly seven minutes, dodging dumb questions, encouragement to consume some shots (and a hit off a bong, which I decline) with dark looks from the lone guy, longing looks from another who keeps trying to do some sort of silent communication with his buddy, and that buddy is seeming like he’s more interested in his lack of a cell signal than anything else. He seems more agitated than anything and he’s suddenly of concern to me as much as the lone guy because the way he’s going on about not having a cell signal, he seems capable of snapping and getting violent.
At the seven-minute mark, I jump up and exclaim, “Oh! Speaking of Hentai…” I have no idea what they’re talking about but it’s a segue that should and does buy their attention, particularly the creepy Anime-loving guy, giving me a minute to scram – “Right back, boys. Got something you have gotta see.” I smile brightly as they all look at me with intrigue, even the guy obsessed with his phone.
I don’t even take my jacket, hoping it won’t arouse suspicion that I am most definitely not coming back. I can sacrifice my $29 jean jacket for the occasion. Thankfully, my purse and overnight bag are still in my car, my cell phone in my skirt pocket.
Megan took her stuff right in; I wanted to assess first. And it’s a good thing, too.
I will my body to be casual as I walk out. My knees are jittery and my hands are trembling, but I’m doing my best to not show it because by the look of the one grizzly dude, who is huge and probably three times my weight, he could try and grab me and this will turn icky and maybe even grisly real fast.
I lean into the car casually, without shutting the door because I see that the grizzly one is watching out the window. I rifle through my bag, keeping one eye on him and as soon as I see he’s turned his head, looking like he’s talking to someone, I climb in, shut the door, click all the locks, then reverse the heck out of there!
I reverse down the tricky, long driveway, past the three other parked vehicles and head out onto the main road. The whole proposition is daunting, because on my left there’s a hill going up and, to my right there’s a hill going down.
That cabin is a shack of ill-repute. Five guys and just two girls with a threesome happening just an hour into the night?
Screw you, Megan, for putting me in this position. I hope you don’t have to bang all five of them, unless, you know… it’s what you want. Grr. Bucket list? Bucket is right.
Fitting because in my high school, that was the name we had for slutty girls. Buckets. Megan? Definite bucket.
About Megan? I only met her two weeks ago. We were having a laugh; she was a fun distraction at work, one of those inappropriately funny girls with absolutely zero filter. She made my days go by faster despite a lot of schlepping and many roadblocks to get things just right for our grand opening. I found it surprising she was in management based on how she acted, but I’ve had all sorts of drama in my regular life so working with her was a fun distraction. I let myself get charmed into this weekend. And she charmed me all right because I have a car and she doesn’t. She insisted it’d be well worth the drive and the $200 and said she’d fill my gas tank, which she did. Megan said her friend organized these parties all the time and I was going to have a blast.
I queried that I thought she said it was her cousin and she waved it off that he’s practically a cousin. This was my first red flag. Too bad I ignored it. She told me he organized these parties regularly and rented swanky places for them. He’s had writeups in the club scene because his parties are that legendary. He’s had two couples get married in the past year who met at his parties. He usually charges $300 per person or more, she said, but she got me the friends and family deal.
She also said we were lucky to get this invite because usually his parties had a long wait list, but this one came up last minute. She said she was done a favor by him – we got to jump a long line.
After working our asses off at the boutique gearing up for the grand opening, which happens in a few days, this getaway was to be our reward.
I just got myself transferred to the new location because it was way closer to my apartment and while I got promoted to assistant manager, Megan got transferred from yet another location where she was already an assistant manager. We’d work different shifts but were on the same rung of the corporate ladder. The busyness and drama of the past few weeks had been exhausting. The getaway I let myself get talked into because I had a bad argument with my family over bullshit to do with my Bridezilla sister’s upcoming wedding, being tired of the tug of war between my recently separated parents, and my recent breakup and mostly because I felt like living it up and letting loose for once. I guess my judgement was clouded.
My bad. Because my judgement about Megan was clearly way, way off. She manipulated me. She didn’t care that we were the only girls and I suspected if she did know, she left that detail out worried she’d lose out on her ride there as well as have me asking for my two hundred bucks back.
Ridiculous. I wasn’t usually one to slut shame, but she only just met those guys. And she was being competitive. I knew it three minutes into arriving that she wanted to be the one they looked at. She’s attractive, but she’s one of those girls who needs to know she’s the most desired girl in the room.
Thankfully once the store opened, I wouldn’t have to interact with her much.
***
And now here I am, driving down a long and winding road in a densely forested rural area miles from any semblance of civilization. It’s dark. No street lights. These roads are not maintained, and I don’t even feel safe on them. Despite lack of streetlights, though, it’s already after nine o’clock and while dark, the moon seems exceptionally bright and it’s taking up what seems like a whole lot of space in the sky.
I have no signal on my phone and even my GPS won’t pick up my location. This was the road I took in, I’m sure I’m backtracking, which would mean I’ll get back to the gas station where we met Grizzly Grisly any minute now. From there, I can find my way back to the highway and I’m sure to have a cell signal again.
Ten Minutes Later…
Still no sign of that gas station. Or even another road. I’m driving slowly and carefully on this road, but it’s like it’ll never end. I’m sure I wasn’t on it this long on the way in. It makes no sense.
Out of nowhere, I see something large and dark in my headlights coming at me. It’s as if my headlights go extra bright for an instant, too bright for my own eyes, and as I squint I catch the flash of reflective eyes, but not on a cat, a big animal and at that same instant, hear the clunk of the animal sailing up my hood. Hard.
Oh no.
I swerve right and the
animal slides left while I watch a spiderweb-like crack sprawl across my windshield under the mass of it. The animal falls off to the side and the damage to my windshield glints in the moonlight. The moon sticks out, a massive glowing three-dimensional orb directly ahead of me. I slam on the brakes, strangely feeling like I could actually hit the moon as my car veers way too close to that drop to my right. My gaze hits my rear-view mirror, catching motion. Whatever it is that I hit, it rises slowly like a dark and ominous shadow. It moves, staggering as it does, before it disappears from view. I give my head a shake. Was that a bear? A wolf? Too big to be a wolf but not quite wide enough to be a brown bear, I don’t think.
I turn the car off to the sound of nothing but nature – nature that sounds unusually loud in my ears. I hope that whatever it is, I didn’t hurt it enough that it’ll suffer a slow death. Poor thing.
I look ahead and it dawns I’m on a funny angle, pointing toward the sharp incline. I turn the car back on, but then my belly swoops. It feels like I’m sliding. I brake while I take a breath and then throw the car into reverse. The tires do nothing but spin and then my car lurches forward some more, sliding a good three or four feet, I think, and I squeal in shock.
It feels like I’m sinking.
It’s been a cool spring so far, but maybe the ground is finally thawing, because my car is clearly sinking into mud. When Megan and I got to the cabin, the ground was pretty squishy between the cabin and the car, so I tiptoed carefully in, hoping I wouldn’t ruin my new purple boots that perfectly match the new chunky streaks in my blonde hair.
I’m stuck. In the muck. How fitting after the evening I’ve had. I set my forehead against the cool steering wheel as if it’ll help.
There’s another lurch, then the car rocks, as if something has hit underneath the front and I jerk as my eyes dart ahead into the darkness, but I see nothing.
I see nothing, but I sure feel and hear something. The car slides forward another foot or so and stops.
