Dirty Alphas
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
incidents and places are the product of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual events, locations, or real
persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 by Alexa B James and Angelina Avery.
Edited by Karen Boston
Cover by Vanesa Garkova Art
All rights reserved, including the right to
reproduce, distribute, or transmit this book in any
form or by any means. For subsidiary rights please
contact the author.
Email: [email protected]
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Dirty Alphas
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter One
Scarlet
Breath whooshes out of me as my hands and knees hit the lush Persian rug of Jacob Knight’s bedroom. Scurrying to my feet, I stare at the heavy wooden bedroom door as it slams shut.
“Assholes!” I shout, but I get what I expect, no response.
Fingers shaking, I grip the white, frothy lace around my wrist, willing myself not to shred the material. Everything in me screams that I need to rein in my abject terror before my wolf comes front and center. I can already feel her pushing forward, wanting to shift in Jacob’s bedroom.
Our bedroom.
Well, for tonight it’s our bedroom. I’m number thirteen on his wives list, or I will be once we consummate this bullshit marriage. Jacob has had thirteen weddings and retains six living wives, including me. I don’t love my odds, especially as I’ve never been very good at reining in my tongue or my wolf, and Jacob, our alpha, once lost his temper and killed a man for being a “mouth breather”.
And now, in the eyes of the pack, we’re married. I shiver in disgust. Again, my wolf pushes to the front and an image floods my mind of her vermillion pelt drenched in blood as she pads over the broken and bloody corpses of Jacob’s betas.
“No,” I whisper to her. Her overconfidence has always been a bit astounding. We weigh half as much as one of those wolves, and there are three out there.
She only pushes the image again, and to appease her, I call out to the guards outside my door. “If Jacob puts his dick anywhere near me, I won’t hesitate to shift enough to castrate him, consequences be damned. I hope you know that.”
They don’t respond. Truthfully, it’s not like any of my packmates have anything resembling free will these days.
I search the disgustingly opulent bedroom, looking for an extra door that isn’t being guarded by Jacob’s betas.
But I’m shit out of luck.
A medium-sized square window across the room looks promising until I pull back the curtains and notice the steel bars lined up along the glass like a fleet of Roman sentries guarding Caesar.
I do a partial shift to strengthen my hands and wrists, ignoring the way my black claws lengthen and dig into my palms as I curl my hands around the cold bars of my prison.
A burning pain sears my skin, and I yank my hands back to see dark burn marks across both of my palms.
“Shit. Silver!” I say as I flail my hands to cool them. “Obviously, Jacob Knight’s claims about being an amazing lover have to be true, evidenced by these silver bars on his windows necessary to keep his willing and satisfied lovers from escaping.”
Fucker. No woman, shifter or otherwise, is going to be even remotely willing if they know anything about my alpha.
His remaining harem of wives tries to put on a brave front, but we all know—everybody knows—so long as Jacob remains alpha of the Six Rivers Pack, no one can save them. Pack taxes will remain astronomically high to support his abundant lifestyle. Organized crime will continue to be the main business venture of the pack, dealing in drugs, sex, firearms, you name it. Once you’re old enough to shift and hold down a job, you’re enlisted in “Pack Business.”
Our pack is a big part of the reason the word ‘werewolf’ is synonymous with ‘criminal’ and ‘motorcycle gang’ to most of the supernatural and human world. Not that Jacob cares. Crime pays, keeping him in drugs and virgins.
And I was almost out. Today, on the last day of my high school finals, I almost achieved what no one else had in the six years since Jacob took over the Six Rivers Pack. I almost got my whole family out right under Jacob’s nose.
A loud bang from downstairs has me wheeling toward the door. My fangs immediately descend, cutting into my bottom lip. The pain mingled with the coppery taste of my own blood sharpens my senses and wipes out the panic riding me hard. My wolf is barely beneath the surface, sensing a threat and ready to neutralize it. She rams against my consciousness, hating to be caged, but I need to stay in control here. Letting her come out to play is going to get us both killed fast.
I hear Jacob’s gruff voice below as he shouts orders at someone. The growl of his voice makes him feel more real and sends my heart banging against my ribcage. I'd hoped the reality of him would lessen my fear; not so much. Instead, a sick, shaky feeling fills my body even though, as a werewolf, I’m immune to sickness.
Footsteps bang up the stairs, and a tingling sensation builds at the base of my neck, spreading through my arms and legs, overtaking my previous sickness. Just like every time Jacob approaches, I can feel him before seeing him. I wish I could say his presence felt revolting, but it’s the opposite. The call of my pack alpha calms my wolf and sends a deep, undeserved, satisfaction through my chest and belly. My body thrums, “He’s here, I’m safe.” But it’s a complete lie. That’s how it’s supposed to be, how it used to be before Jacob Knight took over for his father.
I instinctively put my back to the window instead of the bed. No way in hell I’ll make this scenario easy for him.
The gold handle turns in slow motion, as if mocking me and my current predicament. The door inches open, and Jacob’s massive form comes into view. My alpha is a ridi
culously handsome man with dark hair, piercing blue eyes, thick, muscled shoulders, and thighs the size of tree trunks. He’s easily ten years older than me, but he looks like he could graduate at my side.
I keep my eyes glued to Jacob’s stance, waiting for a sign or tell, anything that hints at where his movements will take him next. He inches a foot forward, testing the waters.
I bare my teeth. “Let me go.”
His lips twitch, hands flexing at his sides. I can’t tell if my show of backbone has pissed him off or turned him on.
Until Jacob threw my father in a cage seven months ago, my encounters with him had been few and far between thanks to my dad’s overprotective parenting skills. Then one night out of the blue, our house was raided, and my father was arrested for illegal research. That’s when I made my plan: get close enough to the monster to learn the code to my father’s cell, find a strong pack far away to take us in, and make our escape.
Only the last part was a spectacular fail, but perhaps my family can still make it out. The New York pack will still take them without me, and my mother will bring the codes I stole to my father this evening. They can all escape tonight in the transport waiting twenty miles up the 299 freeway. The thoughts make my eyes hot with unshed tears. Even if I don’t survive this, maybe they will.
Jacob takes his time perusing my body, his gaze roaming over every inch of me, like he wants to run his tongue along my skin.
Eat me for lunch.
As if he knows exactly what I’m thinking, his full lips break into a sinister smile while his incisors elongate in a show of dominance.
Why, Grandmother, what big teeth you have.
The appropriate response is to avert my eyes and lower my head, but I can’t. My wolf demands that I stare directly into his bright blue gaze. It’s not in me to be submissive. Never has been. Never will be. It’s an unfortunate trait. For years, my parents tried to help me hide it by limiting my interactions with the more dominant males and females in our pack. Being dominant and physically weak was never a healthy combination in a pack like ours.
Jacob takes one step forward. “If you didn’t want to marry me, Scarlet, you shouldn’t have kissed me.”
“Bullshit, you kissed me. The only reason I’m here is because your drugged-up goons snatched me from my high school, and three of your wives forced me into this slutty thing against my will. Not that I blame anyone but you and your betas.”
Alpha compulsion is almost impossible to resist for the majority of werewolves. Most alphas use it on their pack only as a last resort. If one wolf is about to kill another, they’ll use it to force that wolf to stop. Jacob uses it all day, every day. That’s a fact that chills me to my core. He’s never used his compulsion on me, not yet, but if he does, I might submit to him entirely. I might beg for him to take me.
My wolf pushes against me as I have that thought, sending an image of her, fangs bared, challenging a gray wolf six times her size.
Yeah, she would do that. That’s why I’m not shifting. Slowly, I roll back my shoulders, lift my chin, and give Jacob a haughty glare. He may be a good foot taller than my five-foot-six frame, but I’ll gladly look down on this piece of trash any day of the week.
His eyes narrow, sparking in anger while simultaneously showing a hint of interest. From the first moment I made eye contact with our notorious alpha, I knew he hated defiance but also relished the opportunity to break said defiance in half. Before today, I used that to my advantage. Today, I’m just going to make one last stand.
He steps into the room and flings the door shut behind him. I’m ready for his attack, but I’m thrown off balance when he speaks to me instead.
“You’ve been very naughty, Scarlet.” His voice is low and guttural, no doubt due to some partial shift I can’t see. “Did you really think you could abandon your pack?”
Sudden panic surges through my chest, and even though I try to push it down, I can’t. From the flaring of Jacob’s nostrils, he smells my fear.
He knows.
Did my mother try to slip my father the codes early?
Were they even alive?
From Jacob’s heaving breaths, I can tell he’s having trouble holding his wolf in check, which surprises the hell out of me. If Jacob goes wolf while trying to take me, it will do more than hurt me; it will possibly kill me. You’re either human during a mating or all wolf, never in-between.
I know denying his charge will do nothing, so I attempt to sound nonchalant, like he only caught me planning a vacation. “I’m a fan of change, and I hate the weather,” I say, proud of my steady voice. “The constant rain is damn depressing.”
His wide grin and glinting eyes show me he’s both furious and aroused at my disrespectful behavior.
“You belong to this pack, which means you belong to me. No one leaves unless I say so.”
He takes a step forward and waits, and for the first time since he entered, I see an unblocked view of the door. In his rush to slam it, the door hit its frame and bounced back open just the slightest bit. Knowing Jacob, he would have sent his betas away. His honor would demand it. If he kept guards there, it would be like him saying that he couldn’t keep me under his control without three werewolves to assist him. It isn’t much, but it’s the first hint of a possible escape since Vince, George, and Mick picked me up from school and shoved me into that van.
Along with the allure of an open door, Jacob’s words send a surge of hope in me. Does he believe I’m the only one leaving? Being caught is a shitty turn of events, but my family would be safe. I’m already trapped, so what he knows of my plans doesn’t really matter.
Clearing my throat, I say, “Obviously, there’s been a failure to communicate on my part. My bad. Allow me to rectify the situation.” I plaster a fake smile on my face, place my hands on my hips, and toss my long, strawberry-blonde hair over my shoulder. Flippant behavior might just be the key to pissing him off. “I’ve been accepted to Perez University in New York, and I plan on joining the Manhattan Pack once I get there. School doesn’t start for three months, but I’d rather leave now.”
His eyes flash, and he snarls at me, revealing more teeth, but from his expression, I can tell he already knows. And then I realize…my mail from Perez. The University had probably sent me something that got intercepted. That had to be how Jacob figured out I was leaving.
I thought I was so clever having my mail sent to my high school, but obviously not so much. Truly, someone only had to snitch to Jacob, and then he could have just walked up to the front office and demanded it.
There was a time when humans outnumbered the supernatural community a thousand to one, but after a ten-year continuous onslaught of massive earthquakes, monster storms, and sudden volcanic eruptions, we almost outnumber the humans.
The werewolf, fae, vampires, and smaller communities of supernatural beings are allowed to be pretty much self-governing. As long as we don’t go around killing humans, their police forces keep well away from our problems. Therefore, every school in the United States of America knows that a werewolf student’s alpha has more rights over that student than their parent or legal guardian. Basically, Jacob can kill me on the track field of my high school with the entire staff and student body in the bleachers, and while my beloved teachers would grieve a kind and dedicated student, they wouldn’t even call the human police.
A muscle ticks in Jacob’s jaw. “I suppose you only forgot to beg for my permission to go.”
“No, I didn’t. According to the North American Lycanthropy Council’s Statute of Freedom of Pack, I’m allowed certain unalienable rights, like applying to another alpha if I have irreconcilable differences with my alpha. The greatest part about it is that I don’t have to ask for your permission to transfer to another pack, and Lucas was excited to welcome me.”
My words have done it, just like I hoped they would. Jacob partially shifts, his legs bursting the seams of his pants. Four black claws grow from his toes as he attacks.
&n
bsp; Chapter Two
Scarlet
Jacob launches his body into the air in a move that’s meant to pin me against the wall. I swivel low and dive underneath him, aiming for the door. Drawing on my wolf’s speed, I roll back to my feet and lunge.
My hand has just wrapped around the thick wood as streaks of searing pain rake down the length of my back. Jacob’s dagger claws shred me from my shoulder blades to my lower back, the force of it throwing me to the side, where I roll until my back hits the bed’s footboard with a loud smack. My ribs groan and crack from the force of the collision. Sticky rivulets of blood soak into the thin material of my lingerie. For a surreal moment, I notice the little negligee has lifted to show my lacy white underwear, and though the effort sends new strikes of pain through my back, I lift my hand and pull the garment down to cover myself.
Black spots dance along my vision while a disturbing clicking noise moves in front of me. I stare at Jacob’s shifted forelegs and feet. His claws are covered in my blood, with bits of skin clinging to them.
Acid surges into my mouth and nose, but I manage to swallow it down. If I vomit right now, I'll probably drown in it.
I rake in a couple labored breaths. “You sure know how to show a girl a good time.”
Jacob grabs my hair, yanking it back, forcing me to look him in his burning blue gaze. “You’re making me lose control on purpose,” he accuses with a growl. “You’ve always had that effect on me. No amount of your father’s useless shielding kept me from knowing you were mine. I knew the moment I got him out of the way, you’d come to me. You couldn’t resist.”
“Did you ever think that maybe I came to you because you imprisoned my father, you dumb fuck?”
He ignores my question as his hand wraps around the back of my neck. “You’re my wife now, and you’re going to learn to love me the way I've always loved you.”
“Love? Are you kidding me? You already have a wife. Five…wives,” I say. “Go treat them with some tenderness and respect, and maybe you’ll earn some tiny fraction of what you’ve already stolen.” I barely get the slurring words out, feeling more than a little weak from blood loss. Damn it, just how far did his claws penetrate?
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