Alpha’s Hunger Box Set: Books 1-3

by Wilder, Carina

  I laughed. “I guess I’m just a morning person. Anyhow, I’ll need a lot of help to keep this place going,” I said. “So I’ll probably be asking a few people to get up early, at least for a few months until we’ve got our future sorted out.”

  “You can count on me. On all of us.” Doug was beginning to look distracted by all the cast members racing around. “Listen, we’ve set you up with your own dressing room for tonight,” he said. “We thought maybe at the end of the show we could bring you out for a bow and introduce the savior of the Venezia, that dreamy Tristan man I’ve seen you with.”

  I nodded and smiled. Figured that my director would want into Tristan’s pants as badly as I did. “Sure,” I said, “sounds good. Which room am I headed to in the meantime?”

  “Number Two.”

  “Okay.” I started to turn away and stopped. “By the way, could you do me a favor—if Tristan comes looking for me…”

  “I’ll tell him where to find you,” Doug said, winking. “No problem.”

  I strode over to my dressing room and walked in, setting my purse on the table after I’d closed the door behind me. Letting out a deep breath of relief to have made it to opening night unscathed, I sat down and stared at myself in the mirror. I’d dressed up in a dark green number that I thought Tristan would enjoy peeling off me later. It wasn’t as extravagant as the dress he’d lent me in Colorado, but it wasn’t half bad, either. Empire waist, luxurious-looking silk, thin straps, a flowing bodice. It was the sort of dress that made me feel like a princess, if not a queen.

  Almost worthy of a shifter god.

  I was dabbing on a little lipstick when a soft knock sounded at the door.

  “Come in,” I chimed, excited to see if it was Mr. Wolfe coming to say hello before the big show.

  But when door opened, Marcus stepped in. Not quite as exciting, maybe, but he wasn’t a bad second choice. I rose to my feet when I saw his reflection and ran over to give him a huge hug, nearly crushing the bouquet of flowers he was carrying.

  “You’re supposed to bring flowers to stuff like this, right?” he asked, laughing. “I don’t do opening nights.”

  “Yes,” I said, pulling away and eyeing the massive, colorful bouquet of gerbera daisies. “Oh, wow, they’re amazing. Thank you, roomie. I’ll have to find a vase for them.” I peered around the room, searching for some kind of container.

  “You’re welcome,” he said. “I’m so happy for you, you know. In a lot of ways.” The way he said the words, I knew he was talking about more than just what was going on at the theater tonight.

  “Me too,” I said. “Things are starting to look up.”

  “They are. Though I have to admit, I’m going to miss living with you.”

  I twisted around to look into his eyes. “Living with me? Wait—what? Are you evicting me or something?”

  “No—I just assumed you’d be moving in with Tristan—”

  “Whoa there, big fella,” I chuckled. “It’s a little soon for that, don’t you think?”

  Marcus laid the flowers down on the table and leaned against a stray chair. “Ari, he’s a wolf shifter,” he said quietly enough that no one would hear. “If it were up to him, you’d be living together already. They don’t wait for their mates. They just know. I’ve seen it a thousand times.”

  “Even if that’s the case, I’m a human woman, and I need to wait, at least a little,” I said. “I don’t want to ruin things by rushing our relationship. We’ve only known each other for a matter of days, really.”

  “Well, then,” Marcus said, his face lighting up. “I’ll look forward to a little more time with you. Wolfe will want me to keep a close eye on you, I’m sure.”

  “Yeah, he probably will. Are you okay with that?”

  Marcus nodded. “Fine. Maybe eventually I can earn his full trust. Now that I’ve burned my bridges with Craster, I could use Tristan’s help.”

  “Oh, God,” I said. “Right, yeah. You must be out of a job, right? All because of me.”

  “It’s okay,” he shrugged. “I didn’t like the gig much anyhow, as you know. Craster is a grade-A tool.”

  “I’ll talk to Tristan—I’m sure he’d hire you to do something in his mysterious business. He said he’d help.”

  “I’m sure he would,” said Marcus, “but to be honest, that’s not my primary concern. Thing is, I don’t want to be a Lesser all my life.”

  “You won’t be, I promise. Not if I can help it,” I said before giving him another hug. “Now, go find your seat in the audience. I’ll see you after, and I promise I’ll talk to Tristan tonight about you.”

  When he’d left and shut the door behind him, I sat down again, giddy with excitement. I was looking forward to seeing the play in its full glory.

  But more than that, I was looking forward to spending the night with Tristan afterwards.

  Tonight, by all indications, was the night when we’d finally be together with no interruptions, no catastrophes. I was freshly waxed and ready to go. I’d even worn a pair of tiny silk panties under my dress, not to mention my favorite strapless bra. I’d be all too delighted later if Tristan ripped them off with his teeth.

  As I stared into space, fantasizing about the aphrodisiac that was his mouth giving me a good dose of heaven, another knock sounded at the door.

  “Couldn’t get enough of your housemate, huh?” I shouted, rising to my feet. It had to be Marcus again. He’d probably left something behind by accident.

  As I moved towards the door and moved to open it, my eyes darted around the room, trying to figure out if his wallet was sitting on a table top.

  So I didn’t immediately notice that the person standing on the other side of the door wasn’t my friend.

  He was my worst enemy.

  Chapter 27

  Everything happened so fast, yet I felt like I was watching the world pass by in slow motion. When the man’s hands shoved me backwards, I tumbled, barely registering that the door had slammed shut as I reached for something—anything—to keep my body upright.

  I managed to grab hold of the table behind me, grateful not to have crashed to the ground. Fear throbbed in my chest like an army marching to war, unrelenting, unstoppable. Deadly.

  “Hello, Claire,” said the hoarse voice of my estranged stepfather, his cruel eyes locked on my own.

  “Jack,” I snarled. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” I wondered how the hell he’d gotten into the backstage area. Security was something that Tristan and I would have to look into when we negotiated the new budget for the theater.

  “Funny thing. I saw a little article about you in the paper,” he said. “It said you’d become very successful, Ariana.” He spoke my name, a thick layer of venom coating his tongue, as if it were I who’d wronged him and not the other way around. Like I was the one who’d ruined everyone’s lives.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

  “I hopped on a plane this morning. It cost a fortune, but I figured it was worth it to see your pretty face again.” With that, he stepped closer, reaching for my chin.

  I flinched away, slapping at his hand. “Get the hell away from me,” I hissed, trying to pull myself towards the door. But he cut me off in mid-stride, grabbing my wrists and squeezing so hard that it felt like he was going to tear my flesh apart.

  “Tristan Wolfe, huh?” he growled under his breath. “He’s your boyfriend? Boy, you’ve sure moved up in the world.”

  So, that was it. The article had mentioned my connection to Tristan. Jack wasn’t here for me; he was here for my lover.

  Slowly I began to put two and two together. My odious stepfather was looking strung out, like a junkie in need of a fix. No doubt he saw my connection to a billionaire as a goldmine.

  “Tell me what you want, then get the fuck out of my life,” I replied coldly.

  “I want money,” he said, “and your man has a lot of it.”

  “So wha
t? You always had money,” I shot him. “You were always rich. It’s why my mother was stupid enough to stay with you.”

  His grip loosened slightly, his face softening into something like regret. “We’ve run into some…difficulties,” he said.

  Yeah, of course he had. He had always been an irresponsible douche. I wondered if he had my mother living in a cardboard box on some street corner in Nowhereville, USA by now.

  “Well, it’s not my fucking job to make sure you have money,” I said. “So you need to leave, now, or I’ll call security.”

  Jack laughed. “There’s no security here, little girl. One of your stupid-ass actors led me right to your door. You think they give a shit about whether or not your dear old stepdad is here to wish you well?”

  My gaze shot over towards the table at my purse. I wondered if there was any way I could reach for my phone and get a message to Tristan before the bastard could stop me.

  “Forget it,” he said. “I’ll tell you what—you’re going to make a deal with me right here and now. Ten thousand a month to start, transferred directly into my account on the first of each month. You agree to that, then I leave you alone. Understood?”

  I nodded, even as his fingers dug into my flesh again. “I’ll talk to Tristan in the morning and make sure you get it,” I said. “He’s out of town right now.”

  “Bullshit!” Jack yelled. “I’ll bet he’s right outside in the audience, waiting to see his woman’s oh-so-beautiful set designs, isn’t he?”

  “No. He’s in…Colorado,” I lied.

  “God, you think I’m stupid, don’t you? You always were a lying little bitch.”

  “I never lied about a damned thing and you know it,” I said. “As for you, I know what you did to Grace. I know what kind of a monster you are.”

  When he heard those words, rage flared up in Jack’s eyes. For the first time, mortal fear pierced my insides and I wondered if I’d ever make it out of this room alive.

  Unable to come up with a retort that would absolve him of his crimes, he shoved me backwards again. This time I toppled helplessly, my arms flailing as I tried to steady myself in mid-air. But I was no bird. No raven, like Rourke. No graceful wolf, like Tristan.

  I was just a human, flawed and weak, and no one was there to catch me when I fell.

  I crashed towards the ground, my head smashing into the corner of the dressing table.

  I was aware of the blow, but no pain. Nothing at all but that one quick moment of fear.

  Then came the blackness.

  * * *

  When I came to, Jack was gone.

  Everyone was gone.

  The dressing room lights were still on, the space around me glowing with a thick haze of speckled brightness. I could feel nothing but the warmth of the blood that had pooled around my head. My body felt oddly light, and for a moment I wondered if I was flying, if I was on my way to some strange afterlife.

  Out of the corner of my eye I could see the lake of red expanding on either side of me, a stark contrast to the white tiles that made up the dressing room floor. I knew, of course, that the blood was mine. I knew from the sight of it that I wouldn’t—couldn’t—survive this night. No human could lose that much blood and live to see morning.

  I tried to push myself up, but I was too weak. My strength, my instinct for survival—everything was fading. My will had all but left me.

  All off a sudden, the only thing I could think of was Tristan. His voice, his beautiful face. How much I’d wanted to spend my life with him, to get to know the real man behind the gorgeous façade. How I’d wanted to give him my heart, now that he’d shown me who he truly was.

  But I knew now that I would never get that chance.

  I’d never see him again.

  I felt myself being pulled away by a power far greater than myself, washed into another place, one far from the world that I’d always known.

  Far from my lover.

  All I knew was that I didn’t want it to happen. I wanted him. I wanted the fantasy that was my wolf, and not this cruel ending.

  Tristan…I whispered as the darkness came for me again. Tristan…

  But he didn’t come.

  No one came.

  I’m so sorry to leave you behind.

  Chapter 28

  “I can’t do it,” the voice was saying. “I won’t.”

  The tone was so familiar, the smoothness, the sensuality, the depth of it. I could feel him so close to me. Could almost feel his touch on my flesh.

  But no. I wasn’t alive anymore; I knew I wasn’t. At best, I was in a dream. A dream where I was lying in a bright place, on something soft and warm.

  My head was throbbing like someone was standing over me with a mallet, hammering cruelly, rhythmically into my skull.

  This dream was wonderful and terrible at the same time. I could still hear Tristan over the pounding. That voice still came to me in morsels, and I held onto them like grim death.

  I’m dreaming about my lover, I thought. I’m dreaming about Tristan because I don’t want to let go yet.

  Maybe I haven’t died yet, but I must be close.

  “I won’t do that to her,” he was saying. “You know I’d never let her suffer like that…”

  “You’ll lose her if you don’t,” said another voice. “She’ll die.” This time it was a woman.

  Kara, I thought. Kara had somehow made her way into my mind’s conjured fantasy.

  Everything was so fuzzy. The light over my head was blinding me. I tried to turn to the side, but a hard throb hit me again, crippling me into paralysis. I couldn’t even manage a moan.

  It was taking all my strength just to lie still.

  “We don’t have much of a choice,” Kara was saying now. “Something has to be done, or we’ll lose her. You’ll lose her, Tristan. I know what’ll happen to you if you do.”

  “I don’t care what happens to me. I won’t change her!” Tristan shouted. “I won’t curse her. Not even to keep her alive. I’m not that fucking selfish, Valkyrie.”

  Keep…me…alive.

  All of a sudden the images poured back into my mind. The pool of blood. The trauma that I’d suffered after Jack had shoved me.

  I’d nearly died, but maybe I’d somehow made it through, into a sort of limbo between life and death. Tristan was resisting the temptation to use his powers to save me. He didn’t want to turn me into the abomination that he saw in himself. He didn’t want to put me through whatever horrors he’d experienced all those years ago.

  I tried to open my mouth, to speak. But nothing came out but the mousiest whisper. Do it, I breathed. Save me so I can be with you. I don’t care about pain. I don’t care about the rest of it.

  It was what I’d hardly dared dreamed about, but it was the thing I knew now that I wanted most. To spend a long life with him. If he changed me, we could have hundreds of years ahead of us. We could find a way to be happy, he and I.

  “Tristan!” Kara said, “look!” The next thing I knew, my lover was holding my hand, staring down at my face. My vision cleared for a moment, and I saw that his blue eyes were rimmed with tears. The man who could sometimes be so cold had melted, if only for a moment.

  “I’m here,” he told me. “I’m so sorry, Ariana. I failed you…”

  But then everything faded to black again.

  * * *

  When my eyes opened again, I could see that I was in a large room. Its curtains were shut, but a hint of sunlight pierced through in a fine line between the panels, hitting the floor like a laser.

  By some miracle, the throbbing was gone. The fuzziness, too, as though someone had given me a magic pill that had cured me of all pain.

  I pulled myself up to a sitting position, marveling at how good I felt.

  Almost immediately I heard footsteps outside the room, running towards me. A moment later, Tristan was by my side, grabbing my hand and kissing it a hundred times.

  “You’re okay,” he said. “You’re okay.”
He kept repeating the words, seemingly to reassure himself.

  “I’m fine,” I told him, reaching for his face. “I think I am, anyhow. But…” I looked around. “Kara was here,” I said. “I heard you two talking.”

  “She was here, and I owe her everything,” he replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “We both do.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  Tristan reached for a glass on the bedside table and handed it to me. Water. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was until I laid eyes on it. I took a sip, a delight for my dry throat.

  “Your injury,” he said, “there was a lot of blood loss.”

  “I know,” I replied. “I remember.”

  “Kara gave you a transfusion.”

  “She what?” I almost spat out the last sip of water when I registered the words.

  “She’s a universal donor, to put it in mild terms,” Tristan said. “Her blood is powerful, as you can imagine.”

  “But I heard you talking—I thought you were going to change me—”

  Tristan shook his head. “Why on earth would I ever change someone who’s already perfect?” he asked. “No, I couldn’t do it. I never want you to know the torments of being in a body like mine. I wouldn’t want you to see how it tears your soul to shreds.”

  “But Tristan,” I said, “I’ve thought about this. I’ll die long before you do. I’ll live a few decades, and that will be the end of it.”

  “You think you want to spend hundreds of years with the likes of me?” he asked, his expression somewhere between sadness and joy.

  I nodded. “Of course I do.”

  But he shook his head. “I’d rather have thirty years of perfection with you than three hundred years of sorrow,” he said, “and that’s what we’d be signing up for. Besides, with Kara’s blood, you will age more slowly. You’ll be stronger. It’s a compromise, but you need to trust me when I tell you you’re getting a far better deal.”