Alpha’s Hunger Box Set: Books 1-3

by Wilder, Carina

  Despite the fact that it had all happened two centuries ago, it had nearly shattered me to realize how close he’d come to fulfilling his dreams with another woman. As irrational as it seemed, I’d wanted to imagine that I was the only woman in his life. Knowing he’d been haunted by her memory and the events surrounding their break-up for two hundred years had all but driven a permanent wedge between us.

  Yet somehow we’d risen from the flames of that destructive force, stronger than ever before. Tristan had learned to open up to me, and I’d learned to be patient with a man who’d endured more trauma than anyone I’d ever met. He’d been beaten nearly to death for the transgression of loving Elodie Demarche, after which a wolf shifter called the Marquis had changed him, sealing his fate.

  Tristan was now a shifter himself—a man who fought constantly to control the beast who lived inside him.

  “Yes,” I replied at last, pulling my thoughts to the present. “I know what you’re talking about.” I winced for a second before forcing a smile onto my lips. I wasn’t supposed to think about her. About his past, about any of it. I’d promised Tristan that from now on, we’d focus solely on our future together. Our marriage, our plans, our lives here and now.

  “You’re wondering where I want to have the wedding ceremony,” I said, raking my fingertips gently over his neatly-trimmed beard.

  “Yes,” he replied, his exquisite lips parting ever so slightly in a tempting display.

  “Shouldn’t we wait to talk about plans?” I asked. “In case you’ve forgotten, Clarissa’s getting married in two days, and I’m one of her bridesmaids. I’m pretty sure it’s my womanly duty not to be planning my own wedding while I’m supposed to be focusing on hers.”

  “Remind me why she’s getting married on a Friday?” Tristan said. “I thought human weddings were supposed to take place on Saturdays in a nice, orderly, predictable fashion.”

  “She said something about James getting an extra-long break for their honeymoon if they take off a couple of days early,” I told him with a shrug. “But I suspect it has more to do with not wanting certain super-annoying relatives to show up.”

  “Fair enough,” said Tristan. “Now, answer my question about your desired location for our wedding, and I promise I’ll be satisfied for now. In one way, at least.”

  I fingered my engagement ring as he’d done, a now semi-permanent smile pulling my lips up still further at the corners. “I don’t really care,” I said. “It doesn’t matter to me, as long as you’re my husband in the end.”

  “Oh, good,” he replied, flopping dramatically onto his back. “I’m so glad to know that the most important day of our lives is of no consequence to you.”

  Laughing, I reached for him, turned his face my way and laid a long, lingering kiss on his lips, my tongue finding its way to his just long enough to send a fierce shot of pleasure straight to my core.

  “No, no,” he moaned, pulling away, “you can’t make up for what you’ve just done to me, not even with kisses. You’ve cut me too deep. This is the end. I’ll die of misery, knowing how little I mean to you…” With that, he turned his stark blue eyes on mine, narrowing them seductively. “Unless, of course, you straddle me right now.”

  “Anything to save you from certain death, Mr. Wolfe,” I said climbing on top of him and pressing my knees into the sheets on either side of his waist. “I wouldn’t want you to die of a broken heart on my watch—but especially if I could cure it by riding your massive dick.” As always, his gorgeous length hardened instantly under me. Eager, sexy man, always ready to sheath himself inside my desperate, greedy body.

  “I feel so much better already,” he said. “You’ve brought me back from the edge.”

  “Good. But you know,” I breathed, gyrating my hips gently to roll my wetness against him, “I meant what I said. All that matters to me is that we get married. The location is the least of my worries; the only thing I care about is making things official. But…since you asked the question…”

  “Yes?” he replied, his hands cupping my breasts gently, the pads of his thumbs stroking over my nipples with a fluttering touch that made my pussy tighten in response.

  “I think we should get married as quietly as possible, in a secluded place. I have no family, and neither do you, really.” For a second I contemplated mentioning Krane, but Tristan’s dragon shifter brother had only ever caused us pain and torment, so it hardly seemed necessary to point out that the bastard wasn’t welcome. “I mean, I could invite Clarissa, but somehow I feel like it should just be you and me in some special, secret location that nobody knows about.”

  “Agreed.”

  I stared down at him for a moment, contemplating his perfect, handsome features, and rocked my hips gently to show him just how wet I’d become. In response, he pinched my nipples between his fingers, rolling them gently while a low growl of pleasure erupted from his chest.

  “There’s one thing, though,” I said. “Something that I think might affect my decision, if you’re really willing to leave the destination up to me.”

  “Go ahead, tell me.”

  “It’s just…” I bit my lip, hesitant to continue. Tristan probably wouldn’t like my suggestion, but he had asked, so…

  “It’s okay, lover,” he said, pulling me down so he could take one nipple then the other between his lips before speaking again. “There’s nothing you can say right now that I won’t like, as long as it involves making our bond official.”

  “In that case…I think we should do it by the Magic Lake,” I blurted out, pulling up and wincing as I awaited his response. My hips had stopped moving, either on their own or from some unconscious desire to disappear before he could reprimand me for suggesting such a thing.

  “The Magic Lake. Really.” Tristan’s eyes went wide with surprise, his hands sliding down to grip my waist tight. I could feel the tension taking him over as he absorbed my words. “I can’t say I expected that.”

  “You hate the idea,” I said. “I’m sorry. It’s probably terrible.”

  He shook his head. “Actually no, I don’t hate it at all. I just wasn’t prepared for it. I figured you’d never want to go back down south again. The last time we were there wasn’t exactly a happy holiday for either of us.”

  Needing to feel the reassurance of his heat under my touch, I reached for his hands and wove my fingers through his. “Yeah, a lot of bad things happened down there,” I said. “You have a lot of ugly memories, so do I for that matter. But on the other hand, that place is where you grew up. You have some good memories from your time on that property, too, you and Krane, from before…well, before everything went crazy. I thought it would be a good place to make a fresh start. I want to forget the past and move into the future, and that means starting over. Something about the Magic Lake felt…I don’t know, happy. When we were there together, I felt like you’d shed all the bad memories and held onto only the good ones. It’s the only time I’ve ever seen you looking so content, like every worry in the world had been stripped away for a few hours and replaced with something innocent and pure.”

  I couldn’t help but recall the look on Tristan’s face when he’d told me about the days he’d spent with his brother down by the water. It had been a time of bonding, of love…of danger and play, and all the things that come with a perfect childhood.

  I knew, whether he admitted it now or not, that it was his favorite place on earth.

  Tristan raked his fingers over his beard, his brow furrowing thoughtfully.

  “Fine,” he said after a few seconds. “Let’s do it.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “The Magic Lake is beautiful. It makes perfect sense for us.”

  “Oh, thank you!” I all but squealed, pressing down to kiss him.

  “There’s just one small issue,” he added.

  “What’s that?”

  “The competition for a new Alpha of New Orleans is starting. The Southern Pack is in need of a leader, which
means that things could get complicated if they don’t go our way.”

  “What do you mean, our way? They’re not part of your pack, are they?”

  My heart sank a little in my chest at the thought of having to give up on our newly-hatched plan, but I reminded myself that we could get married in a bathtub in the middle of a garbage dump and I’d be just as happy. If Louisiana became an impossibility, we had so many other options that I couldn’t even begin to count them.

  “If the wrong shifter wins the competition,” Tristan said, “we won’t be welcome in New Orleans, to put it mildly.”

  “The wrong shifter? Wait—isn’t Trick competing?” I asked, recalling the powerful man I’d met when I’d gone back to Tristan’s childhood home. I’d thought of Trick almost every day since our encounter—not because he’d appealed to me in any way other than an innocent curiosity, but because he’d given me a piece of advice that I hadn’t been able to shake from my mind.

  A fortune teller in New Orleans had informed me ominously that Tristan would suffer dire consequences if he married a mortal, because the Seven—the group of powerful dragon shifters who ruled the immortal world—had cursed him many years ago.

  Trick had told me that the solution to the dilemma was to ensure that I never die—which could only mean one thing. I’d have to persuade a shifter to change me into one of their own.

  Since then, of course, I’d discovered that I no longer had to worry about threats to my lover’s life. Tristan had struck a deal with one of the Seven’s servants. He’d made them an offer, he said, that they couldn’t refuse, which had secured our future happiness. And sure enough, we hadn’t heard a word from them since.

  I’d all but forgotten the curse until this very minute, in fact…

  “Trick is competing, yes,” Tristan replied. “Which is good. But if he fails, we have a problem on our hands. The wolf shifters in that part of the country have been leaderless for some time. They will follow anyone who picks up the title. But if that someone is Trick’s opponent, things will…”

  My lover sealed his mouth shut as if he’d said too much.

  “Who’s his opponent?” I asked, my heart suddenly beating a little quicker.

  “I think you know,” Tristan said, his eyes meeting mine with an expression that made my blood run cold.

  I nodded. I knew perfectly well that he was talking about the cruel, awful creature known as the Marquis. The man who’d sunk his teeth into Tristan’s flesh so long ago and changed him into the half-wolf that he was now.

  “You think that monster could beat Trick?” I asked.

  Tristan set his jaw for a moment before replying. “Perhaps not through brute strength alone. But by other means? Yes, I do.”

  Holding back a shudder, I bit my lip.

  “I can’t imagine it,” I said. “Trick’s a giant. I literally watched him pick up an alligator and tuck it under his arm without a second thought.”

  “There’s no question that Trick is strong. But the Marquis is cunning and, more importantly, a cheat. I’m hoping the Valkyries and Trick’s other allies help to ensure that he doesn’t try anything.” He pulled my right hand to his lips and laid a lingering kiss on its back. “Let’s hope for the best. Okay, lover?”

  I nodded. I didn’t want to think about the outcome of the Trials; I’d already worried more than enough for one lifetime.

  “Now let’s get back to the wedding,” said Tristan, “and don’t forget, there’s the honeymoon to consider, too.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I replied with a faint smile, pulling my mind away once again from unpleasant thoughts. “I hadn’t even thought about the most fun part of all.”

  Tristan arched his right eyebrow mischievously. “That’s weird. I think about it all the time,” he said, reaching a hand over the lower part of his belly, slipping it down until he pressed his fingers between my legs, drawing a sharp gasp from my chest. “I can’t wait for an excuse to fuck you for three weeks straight, Ariana.”

  I let out a laugh, moving against his touch. “Tristan, our entire lives are one giant sexual marathon.”

  “True. Well then, we’ll talk about the honeymoon some other time.”

  “Maybe you could pick the location and surprise me?” I smiled down at him, lifting myself just enough so that he could push his fingers inside me.

  “Surprise!” he said, spreading his fingers wide, sending a ripple of erotic torment through my body.

  “Come to think of it, this bed would make a very nice honeymoon destination,” I said.

  Tristan pulled his fingers away, licking them one by one before adding, “You know what? The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced the Magic Lake is a good idea. It’s private, secluded, and you’re right—it has sentimental value for me. I’m actually kind of touched that you want to have the ceremony there.”

  “I do.”

  “I do,” he repeated slowly. “Save those words for the day.”

  He grabbed me and in one quick flurry of motion, threw me onto my back, his impossibly thick cock burying itself deep. I let out a howl at the shock of erotic pleasure that struck every nerve at once.

  “I will,” I moaned. “I do and I will.”

  “Cheeky,” he said, pulling out before sheathing himself deep again and leaning down to lash the tip of his tongue over my breasts. “Cheeky Mrs. Wolfe.”

  Chapter 2

  Two mornings later, we flew out of Tristan’s private air field north of New York City on route to Clarissa’s wedding in Chicago. I’d packed way more clothing than I’d need over the course of two days, including the god-awful lavender polyester bridesmaid’s gown that my best friend had picked out for her small wedding party. I hadn’t said it out loud, but I was pretty sure she’d done it ironically. Clarissa’s sense of style and humor were both way too good not to see how horrendous the garment was.

  When the dress had arrived in the mail I’d pulled it out of its garment bag and nearly choked on my laughter. When Tristan had tried to convince me that it wasn’t so bad, I’d told him it looked like Little Bo Peep’s dress had fallen into a vat of purple dye, thrown up on itself, then gained forty pounds. “The skirt’s so big,” I’d insisted, “that you could put on a circus under there. Complete with elephants.”

  Tristan had laughed and told me there was nothing wrong with a big skirt. “All the better to slip underneath and finger you,” he’d said, which was reason enough to warm to the dress immediately.

  The good news was that for today’s journey, I got to wear whatever I wanted, so my selection consisted of a short black and white cotton dress and a pair of comfortable flats. Flammable polyester atrocities could wait until tomorrow.

  As usual Tristan was seated next to me on the jet, looking over some of his company’s financial numbers on a stack of papers that sat in his lap. I loved when he immersed himself in his mysterious work. It reminded me of his power, his status as one of the most successful men in America’s corporate world. Tristan was a mogul, a businessman responsible for thousands of employees and billions of dollars in assets.

  Ironically, that was the least impressive thing about him. The fact that he’d lived over two centuries, that his body could transform into a gigantic, fiercely beautiful wolf, and that he was in charge of a secret network of shifters and Valkyries—that was a whole other level of impressive.

  As I watched him work, I let myself breathe slowly, savoring the feeling of pure relaxation. Thanks to Tristan I’d largely gotten over my old fear of flying. For that matter, I’d lost my fear of most things because of my lover. We’d been through so much together that there was little that I found daunting at this point.

  Life was close to perfect.

  Which always scared the hell out of me.

  * * *

  About twenty minutes into the flight, feeling a little stir crazy, I rose from my seat.

  “Where are you off to, lover?” Tristan asked, raising his chin and turning to look at me.


  “Stretching my legs. I need to use the little girls’ room,” I replied, giving him a wink before I grabbed my leather purse from its place on the couch behind us.

  “Just don’t get lost on the way.”

  “If I do, I trust that you’ll come find me. You do have an impressive nose on you.”

  Tristan smiled and returned his gaze to his work. “That I do,” he said.

  Slinging my purse over my shoulder, I took off for the luxurious bathroom at the back of the jet. It was larger than any I’d ever seen on a plane, complete with a double vanity that looked like it was made of marble. More than once Tristan and I had made love in the pristine white shower while the plane’s tail had bounced around from a particularly violent bout of turbulence. We’d had wild sex in every other possible corner of the jet—even once in the cockpit, after a particularly rocky landing. Apparently our membership to the mile-high club included every perk imaginable.

  When the bathroom’s automatic lights sprang to life I stared in the mirror, tidying my hair, which was half clipped back, the rest falling in brown waves around my shoulders.

  Not bad, but you could do a little better, I thought, trying not to be too critical of my face. I’d never thought of myself as particularly beautiful, though Tristan had managed to cure me of the notion that I was plain. I’d convinced myself during our time together that if I was really as dull-looking as I’d always thought, there was no way the sexiest man on the planet would want so badly to get his face between my legs. At least, that was my story…and I was sticking to it.

  I rifled around in my purse for a few seconds, hoping to come across a tube of my favorite lipstick. But instead, my fingers landed on a small, round metallic object.

  Confused for a moment, I wrapped my fingers around the cold mystery and slowly pulled it out of the bag, clenching it tightly in my fist.

  A sudden sense of dread swirled menacingly through my insides as an ugly thought took root in my mind, resurrecting a memory I’d hoped never to revisit. Wincing, I opened my hand to reveal the silver locket sitting in my palm. An antique, engraved with two swirling letters.