Possessed by the Alpha

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Possessed by the Alpha Page 6

by Nancy Corrigan


  “Let me guess. Make a few memes or posts go viral and twist the humans’ perspective of shifters.” I’d considered the possibility of harnessing social media myself after watching our human neighbors being influenced by fake news. “Shifter Affairs is studying this as we speak. With the right social media campaign, humans could be convinced to accept shifters.”

  “Or fear them. Or not care.” Asa laughs. “Humans are nothing more than walking prey. They don’t think for themselves. The prove it every day with their foolish and cultish social conditioning. Lambs led to slaughter. That’s all they are. I say we become the shepherds and they our sacrificial gifts.”

  “Such a view will destroy us. Humans are intelligent and unpredictable.” Julius again puts himself into the mix between the top alphas in this call. “It’s too dangerous to discount that aspect of their personalities. We’d be foolish to assume we’d know what they’d do, no matter how much we study their social media customs. And in the end, humans outnumber shifters. You’d never be able to control or kill them all, and those who do escape our wrath will be the ones to fear. Revenge is a powerful motivator.”

  “For shifters and humans alike,” I add.

  “Which is why I brought us together today. The goddesses predicted Mira’s babies will change the world, but who in their right mind would follow these hybrids? Or care about anything they say? Certainly not any shifter group in their right mind. They are as much of an abhorrence as their parents’ bond.”

  Asa links his blood-covered hands on the desk in front of him. “Quite frankly, the shifter world will not embrace this new changed world where hybrids and humans and shifters exist in peace. The reality is that, if left to our own devices, there will be war among all the species. Someone needs to force shifters—Royals and singles—to accept the changes the goddesses have foreseen coming to our world. No hybrid, no matter how powerful, is going to be able to accomplish that. In many shifters’ minds, these prophesized babies and the mature adults they’ll grow into will always remain abhorrent.”

  “Shifters are not wired to follow only one leader.” Julius shakes his head. “We are family based—pack to pride to clan—and we each hold our goddesses’ and family’s spirit as the ultimate in governance. No hybrid and no powerful leader will change that.”

  “You misunderstand me.” Asa’s small laugh and condescending smile narrows Julius’s features. “I never said we need a new leader. The Shifter Council does a fine job leading us and weighing in on legislation governing us. What I said is our species needs someone to fear. Mira’s offspring, no matter what the goddesses predict about them, can’t elicit the type of fear that will keep our species from self-destructing. Only one of us can fill those shoes or stop our own kind from killing off Mira’s offspring and negating the goddesses’ plans for our species.”

  “This conversation can be shelved. Let my word stand as the final say to this matter. If harm comes to those babies, blood will soak this earth.” My voice is calm. I could’ve been discussing something mundane.

  Smiling widely, Asa nods. “As you have spoken, let it be remembered, and if you are feared, it will be enough. Now, if there is nothing else, I’m calling this meeting adjourned. The next will be hosted by the alpha of the Alexander pride on the day and time of his choosing. Please look for his email. May the goddesses strengthen your spirits and guide you.”

  The call cuts, leaving the screen black and turning off the camera.

  With my hands behind my back and my stance widened, I survey the section of my office that had been on display for the alpha call, taking in the faces of all those who are relying on me to keep them safe, and come to terms with my fate.

  It’s time to remind the shifter world why the Alexander pride is the strongest and the most feared.

  Five

  Zoe

  Everything about this visit to the West Virginia correctional facility where the man who took my family from me is incarcerated stinks about as bad as the slaughterhouse Vince is set to inherit.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come in?” Zach, Kade’s younger brother, slides the ’Cuda’s gear shift into neutral and glances over at me, his cool ice-blue eyes chilling. Combined with the white-blond stubble on his jaw and his short, shaved blond hair, he looks a cross between a model and a pissed-off gangster. “I’m not exactly an emotional-support type of guy, but I can stand silently and ominously at people’s backs.”

  “No. I’m good. We’re running late anyway. Go park the car.” I open the passenger door and climb out before Zach can hear deception in my tone. Or smell the lie I’m about to tell. “As soon as the hearing’s over, I’ll text you to come up and get me.”

  “Fine. I’ll wait in the lobby—”

  I bump the door closed and hurry up the stairs to where this sham of a hearing is supposed to take place. The lights are on, but there’s nobody here to greet me. Fine by me. I know the way. Before Vince was incarcerated, I made it a point to check out the prison where he was being held. Although I never made it past these public offices, I left content in the knowledge he wouldn’t be escaping with all the guards and checkpoints in this place.

  Darn if I know how to stop him from walking out the door tonight, however. On the drive out here, Zach basically said it’s a given once he heard the details.

  Shifters don’t belong in human prisons. Ever.

  My nostrils flare on my harsher breaths. I stop walking and force my clenched fingers to straighten. The cracking of my knuckles replaces the clunking of my boots on the aged linoleum floor. Then, for a precious moment, silence reigns, giving me a chance to quell my anger. Unlike the shifter waiting for me a few doors down, I won’t get any special treatment if I break the law, which is why the gun I usually carry is tucked safely inside the Barracuda’s glove box.

  The creaking of the large wooden door marking my destination lends an ominous edge to my thoughts and cuts through the otherwise quiet stillness hanging over the vacant corridor. Most of the weekend day staff went home hours ago. All that’s left are those who know about the predators living among us, and if the older guard’s expression is any indication, he shares my feelings about being here. We’d both rather not be included in the ‘I know about shifters’ club.

  Ignorance is bliss, despite what Ella claimed. Realizing I’m nothing more than prey for those more powerful sucks, plain and simple. There was a point in my life where I truly believed I was special. I blame public television and their kids’ programming for that misconception, or maybe it was the attention from my friends and family. Hard not to feel like royalty when everyone called you princess.

  “Ms. Conway, I presume?” At my nod, the guard motions into the room. “The hearing examiner is ready to begin.”

  “Then I won’t keep him waiting.” Pissing off the man running this show will guarantee my objections aren’t considered.

  With one last calming inhale, I force my anger back and stride forward. The thumping of my heavy boots on the floor precedes me, letting everyone in that room know I’m coming. Each clunk empowers me, chasing back the part of me that wants to cower and avoid looking at my former lover and the lifelong friend who ruined my world. The past doesn’t rule me. It defines me. At least that’s what I tell myself every morning.

  An older human with jet-black hair, white eyebrows, and silver wire-rim glasses nods at me from where he’s sitting on the raised platform. The dark circles under his eyes and his slumped shoulders speak to more than his age. He appears ready to nod off. I can’t say I blame him. I’d rather be in bed than dealing with this tonight. Nightmares ruined my sleep last night, but shifter-related business isn’t constrained by normal working hours or the well-being of the poor humans involved. Shifters make the rules. We humans just follow them.

  “Thank you for joining us, Ms. Conway.”

  The deep, commanding voice draws my gaze from the man who’ll decide my fate to the tall, blond, and attractive man in a suit and tie standing next
to the round table in the front of the room. An otherworldly vibe radiates from him, something I’ve learned to associate with shifters even though I mistook Jarah’s warning signals. As much as I hate to admit it, his skin color and the way he seemed to look into my soul threw me off, a mistake I won’t soon make again. Nobody in this world is innocent.

  The glimpse of the man sitting reservedly behind this new blond shifter stops me from guessing at the blond man’s animal species.

  Drab prison garb hangs loosely from the body I once knew intimately. I dismiss the peek of Vince’s muscular chest visible between the gaping sections of his partially buttoned shirt and focus my glare on his face. Dark stubble covers Vince’s chin and neck just as it did years ago. He’s got the same chiseled features and blue eyes that got me naked once, but the dangerous allure that excited me back in high school chills me now.

  Tiny hairs stand up on my arms, and a shiver runs down my spine, taking the strength I’d managed to wrap around me with it. I take a small step back. Never before had Vince set off my inner radar. Of course, the gut instincts I rely on didn’t kick in until after he nearly eviscerated me. What a shame too. Had I sensed the danger surrounding Vince, I would’ve avoided him. Then again, the bad-boy vibe is what drew me to Kade too. Maybe I’m just a fool at heart, but at least I no longer look at Vince and want to get him naked. Nope. Gouging a second mouth right over his throat sounds like a great plan for him. If he gave me the chance, I’d be all too happy to oblige my crazy side’s wishes for blood.

  Vince parts his lips in a lopsided smirk. No doubt he knows what the sight of him does to me…and he likes knowing how much I hate him. “Hello, Zoe. Look at you, all grown up. Pigtails, Goth makeup, and…that outfit you’re wearing. It’s unique. That’s for sure. A cross between looking like a hooker on the street corner and a piece of white trash lounging on a flea-covered sofa.”

  The blond shifter snarls, a very nonhuman sound, then purposely walks toward me, putting his body between me and Vince. Warmth radiates off the tall man approaching me in a comforting caress that doesn’t allow room for fear, anger, or anxiety. It’s almost a warm hug letting me know I’m I safe. I don’t believe it, but I appreciate this other shifter’s attempt at calming me. Kindness should never be turned down.

  The blond man takes my hand, squeezing it gently, and bends slightly, negating our height difference without leaning over me in the kind of dominating stance shifter males often take around human females. “I’m Ethan Jager, alpha of the Jager pack, and I want to assure you that, although I’m here as a Shifter Council appointed representative for Vince Catania from the Yuran pride, I’m a man of honor and justice. I want what’s best for this situation and you.”

  “I’m happy to hear that, Mr. Jager.” I tilt my head, letting the end of my pigtail splay over my cheek, and hide the expression on my face. I can’t guarantee it’s not a little crazed, and I don’t need the hearing examiner catching a glimpse of my unstable mind or my desire to gut the shifter sitting silently at the table not far from me. “And if you’re sincere, return Mr. Catania to his cell and let him go feral, then take his head.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not an option on the table, Ms. Conway.” The hearing examiner’s heavy sigh gives his words the exasperated quality of a bored man speaking to a child. “You know what Vince Yuran is. Surely you understand the risk his presence here poses to our general prison population.”

  “Mr. Vincent Catania is a liar and a fake.” I shake off Ethan’s touch and storm forward, then point behind me at the man who took everything from me…and got away with it. The charges that landed him in jail had nothing to do with me or the death of my family. “He could’ve alerted the proper authorities to his shifter status, but he chose not to do so. He chose to be known as a Catania, the adopted son of human parents, not a member of the Yuran pride. That’s on him. It’s not my fault he took the easy way out. Had he been tried as a shifter, he wouldn’t have gotten off so easily.”

  “Actually, that’s not quite true, Zoe.”

  Vince’s voice zaps the warmth Ethan’s presence lent me. With my back ramrod straight, I address my former friend without turning my head. “Really, Mr. Catania? What’s the truth, then?”

  “Now that I’ve matured, I’m obligated to accept the role assigned to me by my pride’s alpha leader—I’m Vince Yuran, the chosen next in line to replace him as alpha leader of the Yuran pride in the unfortunate event of his untimely death. Had I acknowledged my true status at the time of my trial, I would’ve been released into my pride’s custody and placed under their watch. No jail time served. No fines. No long-drawn-out trial. I would’ve walked practically scot free.”

  After learning about shifters last year and the lengths the human and shifter governments will go to in order to keep the knowledge of shifters from the general public, I can’t disagree. It doesn’t mean I have to like it or accept it.

  Swallowing against the dryness in my mouth, I glance over my shoulder. “Then why did you allow this to go to trial and accept the punishment dealt you?”

  Vince steeples his fingers, giving me an unobstructed view of the handcuffs linked around his wrists—handcuffs he could easily snap. “That’s not something you need to concern yourself with.”

  An unhinged laugh shakes my chest. “As the victim in that case, I have every right to know your motives.”

  Vince leans back in his chair, his cuffed hands once more resting against the wooden table. “I figured it was the least I could do for my hand in the unfortunate events that led up your downfall. You could’ve been so much more. A true queen—my queen—not the shell you are today. I knew your potential the moment I laid eyes on you in preschool and did my best to protect you, but I failed miserably, and for that, I’m eternally sorry.”

  My chest tightens to the point where my every breath sends pain radiating through my body. “Unfortunate events! You killed my fiancé and left me to die…you let my baby die!”

  Vince inclines his head. “I understand where your anger comes from, but it’s unfounded. BJ didn’t die at my hands. He fell, and I still miss him.”

  “You miss him!” I advance on Vince, then slam my palms on the table, rocking it and pushing the wooden edge into his chest. “You killed him!”

  “He came after me with anger displayed on his features and a knife in his hand. I pulled you in front of me, thinking BJ would back off. He didn’t. He went on this inhuman rage. Looking back, I’d guess it was a drug-induced rage. After he stabbed you again and again, he ran. I chased him. We fought, but because we were on the edge of the ravine, he fell to his death. It was self-defense, a true accident. I left you in an attempt to get to the bottom of the ravine and save him. I didn’t make it there.”

  “Because Josh showed up. He fought you. A partially shifted version of you. And no, you weren’t trying to save BJ. You were trying to escape what you did to me.”

  “Yes, I fought Josh. Yes, I ran from him so I wouldn’t injure him. But no, Zoe, I didn’t hurt you.” Gentle, pacifying, understanding—Vince’s voice takes on such a soothing quality, it tempts me to believe him. “It was the love of your life trying to make you lose your baby. I told the judge and jury the same thing. They believed me because it was the truth.”

  The memories blend—both the version Vince has told and the snippets I’ve remembered—until I’m not sure which is real and which isn’t. Pressure builds behind my eyes the longer I wrestle with the conflicting views. I cover my mouth and nose, catching the warm droplet sliding over my upper cheek, then pull my hand away and stare at the streak of blood while the whirl of memories spin, increasing the dizziness and pressure until passing out feels like a real possibility.

  A firm hand settles on my shoulder. I reel, fingers poised and ready to go for my attacker’s eyes, then freeze. Ethan’s understanding expression stops me. He squeezes me, again offering a connection I hadn’t expected to find tonight. Too bad Ethan’s not representing me.

 
; Ethan licks his finger and wipes his fingertip under my nose, swiping away the blood there. “We’re here to discuss parole conditions, not rehash a sentence that can be easily overturned if put to the Shifter Council. If that happens, it won’t matter whose version of that night is correct, nor will there be any parole conditions to consider. The whole tragedy that changed your life will be erased from written memory, and no one will ever learn the truth.”

  “And quite honestly, Ms. Conway. The sooner I can wash my hands of this case, the better. I am retired, you know. I’m only here because—”

  “Nobody else knows what Vince is.” I finish the Hearing Examiner’s words.

  “Exactly.” The hearing examiner slides a manila folder in front of him, then opens it. “So let’s get this over with. Mr. Jager, what are you proposing as conditions of parole for Mr. Yuran?”

  “Wait.” I glance between Ethan and the older human, who’s ready to set my nightmare free. “You’re not even going to consider sending Vince to a shifter-run prison to finish out his sentence? They exist. I know it.”

  “No. Mr. Yur—”

  “But, he killed—”

  “He didn’t kill anyone, Ms. Conway. You heard him tonight. It was an unfortunate situation.” The hearing examiner flips over the paper in front of him and picks up a pen. “And I’m sure with time, your memory will not be so confusing, and you’ll realize Vince’s recollection is the correct one.”

  “But he should be doing twenty to thirty for drug—”

  “Drug possession, distribution, and aggravated assault. Yes.” The older human with his fake black hair nods. “All of which Mr. Yuran said wasn’t his fault either. After it became evident his older brother, Cedric Yuran, was not only supplying him with drugs but also compelling him to sell them—”

 

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