Wanted by the Alpha

by Laxmi Hariharan

  I take in deep breaths of air, and again, then wipe the puke from my face.

  I hear the door open, and there’s the sound of footsteps entering. My shoulders tense. The heavy tread of what can only be another alpha reaches me. The man marches across the floor to stand behind me.

  “The General is dead.”

  “No shit.” I laugh, not sure why, but it seems like the most appropriate response. I swivel around to face Ethan.

  Those cool gray eyes watch me. There is no expression on his face.

  “A thank you, perhaps?” I smirk.

  He holds my gaze, then lowers his head. “Long live the General.”

  My head spins, and I grip the ledge of the window for support. Of course, I am the leader of London now, except I hadn’t really believed what he’d said earlier.

  “The laws are in your favor, sir. Unless someone decides to challenge you, you are the General.”

  “Bloody-fucking-hell.” I throw my head back and laugh.

  “What’s your first decree, General?”

  Right. I rake my fingers through my hair.

  The omega walks in, fully clothed now. Her hair already braided and put up, she wears a long silk tunic and slim-fitting pants. Walking over to me, she stops, keeping enough distance between us to avoid her scent from reaching me.

  “General.”

  “What were you doing with him?” I look to where Golan’s naked body still lies on the bed.

  She tenses, and so does Ethan. He doesn’t say anything else, though. Just keeps his gaze on my face.

  "Golan screwed me in return for sparing the rest of my omega clan.”

  She folds her fingers into fists at her side.

  “What's your name?” I ask.

  “Mirela.” Her chin trembles. She’s a reminder of Golan, and right now I can do without that.

  “You can tell your omegas that they are safe. I don’t plan to take any of them by force.”

  Her gaze flies to my face.

  “As long as they make themselves available to my men to choose from when the need to rut takes them. Or when they hit a heat cycle and need an alpha to break them.”

  She frowns. “But—”

  “They have every right to refuse.”

  “Will your men heed your words?”

  “They’d better.”

  "On one condition." She raises her chin.

  "I wasn't aware that this was a negotiation." I widen my stance.

  Next to me, Ethan bunches his shoulders. He makes no move to go to her… doesn’t even look at her.

  The knuckles of his hand are white.

  Interesting. He may just have a soft… or is that a hard spot for her? I purse my lips.

  She holds my gaze.

  "Speak then, I won't deny that your candor is refreshing."

  Mirela looks at Ethan from under half closed eyelashes. “I want him to break my next heat cycle."

  Ethan stiffens, then pulls himself up to his full height. “I do not sip from castoffs.”

  She draws in a sharp breath, and the color fades from her cheek. So, I was right.

  The chemistry between these two is through the roof. The very fact that he turned her down confirms that he is emotionally attached to her.

  I’ve just found Ethan’s weak point, and I intend to use it against him. It’s what I am good at.

  “Well, then," I jerk my chin at him, "I do believe you need to get on and see to the formalities in my taking on as General.”

  “Of course.” His gaze snaps on me; his eyes glitter with anger… retribution?

  Bring it on. It’s exactly how I like my men. Hungry… and angry.

  He turns to go.

  “Ethan.”

  He turns.

  “Take the dead guy with you, will you?”

  A vein springs to life at his temple. But he doesn't protest. He stomps to the bed, heaves the dead Golan over his shoulder, then heads to the exit.

  Mirela's gaze follows Ethan as he strides out the door. She makes to follow him.

  “I’m not done yet.”

  She pauses and angles her body toward me but keeps her gaze lowered.

  “You know what turns me on more than power?”

  She shakes her head.

  “It’s taking the thing that someone else covets most.”

  Her shoulders square. Golden-brown eyes stare at me.

  I know then that I am lying.

  I don’t want her. I want another.

  An omega whose green eyes are burned into my soul. And fuck me, but I am not even sure if she is real or just a figment of my dreams. I am besotted by a ghost, an omega who doesn’t even exist. I’ve fucked my way through all the East End, yet my body aches for a pussy that isn’t even real. Fuck me over.

  “You can’t be worse than your father.” Her voice is soft, her spine stiff.

  A shudder of apprehension rises over my skin.

  I don’t want to be compared to Golan. I am nothing like that man. And yet, I had walked in and strangled my own parent. Does that make me like him?

  I stalk toward her. “You are wrong.” I pause in front of her.

  Her gaze skitters away.

  “I am more dangerous. Golan was a fool; he never could hide his true intentions. Me? I keep my enemies closer.”

  “And your friends?”

  “I don’t trust anyone.”

  “Not even Ethan?”

  “Especially not Ethan.” My lips twist in a smirk. “He had a vested interest in making me General. He turned on the very man he’d sworn allegiance to. Tomorrow he could do the same to me.”

  “Does that bother you?”

  I hold her gaze. “No, but it should bother you.”

  “Why?” Her shoulders stiffen.

  “I saw the way the two of you looked at each other. He has a thing for you…”

  “Everyone has a thing for me.” Her lips curve up.

  “Exactly.” I peel back my lips, “Going forward, you will be the head of the Omega Harem.”

  “Me?” She frowns.

  “The alphas will petition you to choose an omega. All the omegas in this stronghold and any who need shelter in the city will be housed there.”

  “Why would you do that?” She folds her arms over her chest, her nails digging into her forearms. The skin of her knuckles is stretched white.

  “It’s one way to contain the alphas inside the stronghold. To ensure they don’t hunt the omegas in the streets.”

  She gulps. “If I refuse?”

  “I’ll hand you over to the alphas.”

  She pales. “You wouldn’t.”

  My gaze goes to the dent in the mattress that marks where Golan’s body had lain.

  The meaning sinks into her. “Fine.” She nods. "But you allow me the freedom to refuse anyone too.”

  I tilt my head. “You mean Ethan.”

  She doesn’t confirm nor deny.

  It doesn’t matter to me if she wants to refuse Ethan. If anything, it only adds to the power I have over my second. And that’s just the way I like it. Leverage over those closest to you.

  It’s the only way to ensure those in my inner circle will never stab me when my back is turned to them.

  Not that I intend to do that, no way.

  I plan to stay alert and never show my vulnerable side… not that I have it in me to be emotional in any way, get what I mean?

  My mother’s dead, and I just killed my bastard of a father.

  That leaves no living blood relation, nothing except this legacy. One which I plan to rip apart so there is no trace of the bloodline that gave birth to me.

  I hold out my hand. “Deal.”

  6

  Lucy

  The heat from his body surrounds me. I wallow in it, burrowing in even deeper. The feel of the planes rippling under my fingertips makes me want to stretch out my fingers so every part is in contact with those ripped muscles. The scent of him, earthy and woodsy like burned cinnamon and liberally
laced with testosterone pours over me.

  I know I am dreaming, yet I can't stop my womb from contracting. Slick flows out from between my legs. I smell the sugary sweet smell of my own arousal. That turns me on even more. "Alpha." I raise my gaze to his face.

  A growl rumbles up his chest and twines around me. The depth in the tone snatches at my nerve endings.

  My shoulders shudder. Heat flushes my cheeks.

  His blue eyes narrow on me. Silver and so many shades of turquoise burn in their depths. There is lust—so much lust—in his gaze, and something else, something feral and untamed. He is going to break me, I know that with every molecule in my body.

  I shiver.

  He holds his big body balanced on his arms as he hovers over me. "What do you want?"

  I want to tell him but find my throat is too dry. He has me pinned by that gaze like a hawk who has set eyes on his prey.

  "Tell me," he leans in close enough for me to make out the silver fires that flare in his eyes. It's as if there's a furnace somewhere inside that has fanned to life. Heat from his big body slams into me and I gasp.

  I want to tell him I want him and yet something inside me stops me from speaking. It's not that I am afraid of him, on the contrary. This alpha, he's the one for me, I know it.

  Yet something inside me insists that I resist.

  I dig my nails into his chest with enough force to break the skin. His shoulder ripples. Another growl pours out of him. The wound stretches my already tense nerve endings. My skin tightens. A bead of sweat slides down my neck to the valley between my breasts.

  His gaze darts down to follow it.

  My nipples pucker and push out against the cloth. He leans down and licks up the moisture. The feel of his tongue on my skin sends goosebumps swirling over my skin.

  Heat flickers to life low below. I squeeze my thighs shut to stop more slickness from sliding out or at least from him finding out how much his touch arouses me. His nostrils flare. He raises his head and fixes those burning blue eyes on me. “You want me, Omega?"

  I shake my head. Denying the evidence of what is all too clear for him to read. Denying the fact that my body has already recognized him. One side of his lips curls up in a smirk. "Liar."

  He trails a finger down my cheek over my lips to slide his finger into my mouth. I shouldn't, no way. Don't do it. Don't. I flick out my tongue and lick his fingertips. They taste of him, salty and earthy and shot through with that essence of burned cinnamon that sinks into my skin. My womb clenches. My breasts tighten. A groan is torn out of me.

  His shoulders flex. The tendons of his throat move. He drops his gaze to my lips. "The things I want to do to you, my omega."

  His baritone ruffles over my skin. The hair on my neck rises. I open my mouth and take his finger all the way in.

  A growl bursts from his lips and spills over me. The sound of his voice sinks into my skin. My blood heats. My nipples tighten to pinpoints of pain. I am not aware I am thrusting out my chest. Not until he lowers his chest to brush against my breasts. The weight of him presses down on me; the heat of him surrounds me. The feel of those rock-hard pecs outlined against my soft swelling fleshing makes me moan.

  "Tell me you want me to touch you."

  I bite down on the finger inside my mouth, with just enough force to break the skin. The taste of copper slides over my tongue. It's as if his essence is seeping into me and it shouldn’t be hot, it shouldn't. So why does my lower belly clench? Why does more moisture flow out from between my legs? Why does the scent of my arousal deepen in the area as if throwing a net of sensuality over us?

  His nostrils flare and I am sure he can scent me, sense my desperation to get closer to him, for he cups his hand around my cheek. His gaze narrows. Those blue eyes flare, cobalt and turquoise the colors ebb and flow as if reflecting the emotions flowing inside of him.

  "Tell me, Omega, what do you want?"

  You, I want you.

  I want to tell him that. But that stubborn woman inside of me, the one who can never resist a challenge, the one who never gives up without a fight resists. I arch my hips off the bed so my pelvis brushes against the growing hardness that tents his pants.

  The breath rushes out of him. His lips peel back, baring his teeth; they glow against his skin. In that second, he resembles more of the devil he is. A monster who's come to slake his thirst in me. My monster. The one I've been looking for all my life. The reason I haven't slept with any other alpha yet... have I been holding out for him? The one who can clash his wills with mine; the one who can fight for me, make me want him with all the passion that boils inside me. The me that I have never unleashed before. That I have been saving up for him. All for him. The emotions surge through my mind. My chest rises and falls.

  A low purr rumbles up his chest. The vibrations are growing more concentric by the second, closing in on us, homing in, pushing me down and anchoring me to the bed. It's as if he can hold me captive just with his voice. He drags his finger from my mouth, then slides the glistening tip into his mouth and sucks on it. "So sweet." He growls his approval.

  Goosebumps rise on my skin.

  He lowers his finger to the valley between my breasts and drags it over the cloth to wet the tip of my nipple. Every part of me snaps to attention. My breasts grow heavy. My nipple puckers up, growing so hard it hurts. A moan spills out of me. He circles that finger around the nipple. I groan.

  "So, you want me, but you will not tell me how much, is that it?"

  I don’t reply. I can't. His voice, that growly, snarly voice tugs at my nerve endings. My pussy shudders. My core contracts. A low hiss of breath shudders out of me.

  His eyes gleam. “Should I make you come Omega, make you scream my name as I bring you to climax, as I rut you and rub my essence into every pore of your skin? As I make you, mine?"

  A primal thrill courses through me and all my nerve-endings seem to fire at once. I narrow my gaze at him, then bite my lips.

  A pulse tics to life at his jaw and those gorgeous cruel lips twists in a smirk. "Hmm, let's see if I can oblige."

  I haven’t spoken a word, yet he’s sensed my assent.

  He bends his head and nestles his nose into the crook of my neck. Then draws deeply of my scent.

  A low burn flares to life in my belly. I swallow. His touch is so different from how he'd handled my body earlier. So tender, so sweet, almost caring... It's that which makes me tremble. Makes me squeeze my eyes shut, and train all my senses on that part of me where his mouth drags over my skin.

  As he licks my throat down to the curve of my breast.

  He presses tiny kisses all around the circumference of the breast.

  Heading closer to my nipple.

  A mewl spills out of me.

  He doesn't stop. Doesn't close his lips over the nipple either. Instead, he follows the curve of the trembling flesh to the other breast, then blows gently on the other distended nipple. Goosebumps pop on my skin. I want to raise my hands and sink my fingers into his thick dark hair.

  Instead, I dig my nails into the cloth and force myself to stay still. My muscles bunch, my thighs clench, I dig my toes into the mattress for purchase.

  He presses little kisses through the cloth of my tunic. The heat of his breath sears my skin through the fabric. He drags his lips down my ribcage to the concave of my stomach. When he reaches my navel, he pauses there, his mouth poised just over the little indentation of my belly button.

  It's as if he wants to test me, wants me to moan again, wriggle my hips. I push up my belly as if offering myself for his pleasure.

  I sense rather than see his lips curve.

  "So impatient," He grips my hips and pins me down.

  I strain against his grasp. He doesn't loosen it. Merely follows the flow of my waist, over the dip of my lower belly down to the triangle between my thighs. He stays there.

  I can feel his body heat curl around my legs. Feel the warmth from his skin sink into my blood. Feel his breath as
it sears that sensitive skin just above my pussy.

  "So damn sexy. And succulent. I want to eat you up, lick you up, drink up every last bit of your honey, then make you come until you don't know where you are anymore. Until your body submits to me. Until you are a mass of quivering needs that only I can fulfill."

  My muscles go solid. Every part of me aches. My skin feels so hot. I am sure I am going to burst into flames at any moment.

  Then he dips his head and bites me right through the cloth that covers that secret space between my thighs.

  His breath scorches my skin. His teeth graze my clit.

  A scream is torn from me.

  I push against his hold. Press my toes into the mattress. My knees threaten to rise on their own. He shoves his shoulders between my legs and spreads them apart. Drags his big hands down my thighs to grip my calves and hold me immobile. I feel naked even though I am still wearing clothes.

  I feel delicate, compared to the strength of the muscles that coil over me.

  Every cell in my body yearns for his touch. His feel. For him.

  He purrs then, a deep glorious sound that smashes over me, bleeds into my pores, and slides straight to my core.

  Moisture pours out of me, pooling below.

  Another deep purr from him, this time as if in approval. It's the sound of a male hungry for a taste, to touch, to feel, to eat me up as he'd promised.

  He slides his mouth over my folds.

  A jolt of pleasure rips through me.

  Then he thrusts his tongue into my cunt, taking the cloth that covers my pussy with it.

  He fucks me with his mouth, and through the cloth still covering my center.

  The chafing of the fabric against my sensitive inner walls, the feel of his rough tongue barely disguised through the delicate silk, the strength of his grip as he holds me immobile... even as his tongue laps at me, in, out, in, from my channel; all of it goes straight to my head.

  A wave of heat, of sensations I've never experienced before, all of it bursts forth from my core. From that very spot where he's touching me, fucking me, eating me out.

  I am but a morsel for his delectation. A woman who wants his approval. An omega who is helpless in the clutches of her alpha, I can't feel my toes. My fingers. I've never felt this intensely before.