Alpha’s Hunger Box Set: Books 1-3

by Wilder, Carina

  A shiver caressed my skin as I contemplated my future. By this time tomorrow I would be Ariana Wolfe.

  How insane was that?

  Kara walked over, smiled slyly at me, and handed Tristan a key ring with a single silver key dangling from it. “It’s all ready for you,” she said, giving him a wink. “I trust that you’ll be happy with the place.”

  I wanted to jump up and down and yell “Where are we going? Tell me!” but I managed to keep my cool. “I have no idea what this is about, but I think I like it,” I said, eyeing my husband-to-be as he unlocked the car. “Kara,” I said, “are you coming to the ceremony?”

  She shook her head. “I’m heading back to Manhattan to look after some business meetings for Tristan,” she said, moving forward to hug me. “But listen—I hope it goes perfectly. I’m sure it will.”

  “Thanks.” I glanced over at Tristan before asking, “Are you sure you can’t tell me anything about tonight?”

  She moved her thumb and index finger across her lips then made a gesture as if she was tossing away a key.

  “Damn it.”

  The truth was, I loved the secrecy. A secret wedding meant that no one could or would interfere in our affairs. It meant we would finally be joined officially, and no one on this earth could stop it.

  Part of me—only a very small part—felt sad that Clarissa couldn’t be with us. But she’d understand. I’d never been into throwing parties or drawing attention to myself. Besides, it wasn’t like I had a family to pressure me into a big wedding. I wasn’t even sad that my mother wouldn’t be there; I’d given up on her so long ago that she may as well no longer exist.

  The only thing that mattered in this world was that tomorrow, I’d be married to the man I loved. He was my family now. He was everything to me.

  When we’d climbed into our multi-million dollar ride, Tristan navigated us along narrow, familiar roads as the glossy green leaves of Louisiana’s trees threatened to engulf us on either side. I opened my window, let the wind whip through my hair and inhaled the otherworldly scent of the place. It was now familiar, the scent of cypress trees and marshland. Familiar and beautiful.

  After a time, though, I realized that it wasn’t just Louisiana’s aroma that was stirring memories in my mind.

  “Hey, wait a minute,” I said, realizing that the route he was taking was one I’d been on more than once. “Isn’t this the way to your old house?”

  But when I looked over at Tristan, he didn’t say anything. He just smiled.

  “You’re up to something,” I said. “Oh my God. Are you taking me to the Magic Lake? Are we…are we getting married right now?” My heart started racing in anticipation. It would be perfect. Dusk would come soon—we could be out by the waterfall as the sky turned a dark shade of fuchsia. We’d kiss under the stars as husband and wife…

  “No, we’re not getting hitched” he replied. “Not just now, anyhow, though I suppose this will be a ceremony of sorts.”

  “Ceremony?” I asked. “Are you going to give me a gold medal for being the best lay?”

  “If I’d thought of it, I would,” he said, reaching over and slipping his hand up my thigh, which stirred my core to life. “Best breasts, too,” he said. “Best pussy. Best lips. Best blowjobs. Best…”

  “Okay, I get the picture. I win all the prizes in the sexual Olympics, aside from best hard-on, which of course goes to you.”

  “Naturally.”

  I bounced up and down impatiently in my seat. “What’s really happening?” I asked in a whiny voice. “Tell me!”

  Tristan laughed. “Fine, I’ll tell you this much: You’ve talked about new beginnings and new memories—we both have. So I think we should start again. I mean really start again. I want us to enjoy this moment together.”

  “That told me absolutely nothing,” I said. “Unless…”

  Was he going to change me? Was this to be my wedding gift?

  I looked at him. No, he was too relaxed. If he’d made such a momentous decision, he’d be struggling with it. This was something different—something more superficial…

  I crossed my arms and pouted. “I don’t like mysteries,” I said. “I want to know what’s coming.”

  “Soon, lover,” Tristan said. “Ten minutes, tops.”

  * * *

  When Tristan turned the car down the dirt road that led to the old Leclair homestead, I took a deep breath. Well, this wasn’t quite what I was expecting.

  I could only hope that he wasn’t planning on taking me into the decrepit wooden house he’d shown me when we’d first come to New Orleans. The last thing I wanted was to revisit the place that had brought me so much pain—the place where I’d found Tristan’s journal, and the locket that contained his former fiancée’s portrait.

  After a time, Tristan turned into a familiar driveway. I thought I recognized the large willow tree to its left and the curve of the short dirt lane. So, we were going to his old house.

  But as he pulled the car deeper down the driveway, the sight before us confused me.

  “This is the wrong place,” I said. “Did you miss the turn-off? I thought…I thought you were taking us to your old house, for some reason.”

  “No, lover,” Tristan said, pulling the car to a stop. He turned to look at me, his bright wolf eyes gleaming in the sunlight. “My old house doesn’t exist anymore.”

  Without a word I pushed my door open, slipped out of the car and moved towards the structure that stood before me, eyeing it cautiously. No, it definitely wasn’t the same building as the one I’d infiltrated when I’d gone looking for the secrets to Tristan’s past.

  Not even close.

  This house was two stories tall and looked brand new. It was painted pristine white with blue shutters. A colonial looking home, beautifully crafted, with a black slate roof topping it off. The front door, like the shutters, was blue, and a brass knocker sat at its center.

  Everything about the place was beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that it almost felt out of place in the midst of the overgrown greenery that surrounded us.

  “How did this even get here?” I asked, like someone had picked up a house from some distant location and carried it to this property. Actually, given the magical abilities of some of Tristan’s friends, it wouldn’t entirely have surprised me.

  “Do you like it?” Tristan asked, closing the car door.

  “Of course I do,” I replied. “But why…how…”

  “I hated the old place,” Tristan said, looking up towards the roof sloping towards us as he sidled up next to me. “Hated what it represented. I hated that it hurt you so much.”

  “The house didn’t hurt me. What was inside it did,” I protested. “Though I’ll admit that I had no desire ever to walk through its front door again.”

  “All that matters is that you and I both wanted to be rid of it,” he replied. “What was inside it was a relic of a past that died long ago.” He turned to me, grabbing me by the waist, pulling me close and kissing me. “You’re my future, Ariana. I want you to stay in a beautiful place the night before we get married. I may have hated the house, but I never hated this property. It holds some very good memories, and I want to make new ones with you, here, tonight.”

  I blew out a long exhale and pressed my hand to my forehead as I tried to register everything.

  “It’s amazing. Really amazing. I can’t believe you pulled this off.”

  “Well, I had some help from someone I believe you’ve met.”

  “Trick?” I asked. It had to be. Something told me the powerful shifter probably had some friends in high places.

  Tristan nodded. “A few friends of his did the work. Those are the benefits of being a strong shifter…and now Alpha of this entire region.”

  “He won the Trials?” I asked, but I didn’t even need to look at Tristan to know the answer. “Of course he did,” I said with a smile. “Good for him.” A second later, a thought slipped into my mind. “The Marquis,” I said. “D
id Trick…”

  “Kill him? No.”

  “Why not?”

  Tristan grimaced. “Because Trick’s a man of honor. The Alpha Trials aren’t about murdering your opponent. They’re meant to determine the best leader. Trick knew that if he killed the Marquis, the pack would always see him as corrupted. He needs them to respect him rather than fear him.”

  “But the pack must know what a horrible man the Marquis is,” I said. “They should know what he did…what he did to you and probably countless others.”

  Tristan pulled me to his chest and held me there. I could feel his heart beating against my cheek, steady and strong, just like him. “They know,” he said. “Everyone knows what he is. But the pack is stronger now for letting Trick lead them and showing mercy. Descending to the Marquis’ level isn’t going to prove anything, other than to show how cruel some shifters can be. It’s best to let the bastard wallow in the knowledge that he was defeated by a much worthier shifter.”

  I pulled away, narrowed my eyes at my fiancé and grinned. “So you really didn’t have anything to do with Trick’s victory?”

  “I didn’t do anything. My hands are clean. Trick was perfectly capable of winning on his own.”

  “That I believe,” I said as I recalled how massive Trick’s shoulders and chest were. He was quite different from Tristan—a tank of a man, albeit a handsome one. “Well, I’ll have to congratulate him if I see him.”

  “Yes, you will. But come on, don’t you want to see what’s inside this place?” Tristan asked, dangling the silver key in front of my eyes, reminding me that I’d all but forgotten where we were. I grabbed it and ran over to the door, unlocking it and leaping inside with a gleeful shout.

  If the outside of the house was understated colonial, the inside was exquisite. A high foyer greeted us, complete with curved stairway leading up to the second level. A massive, elegant silver and glass chandelier hung overhead.

  On the wall to my right, by some insane twist of Tristan-induced fate, was a painted portrait of me in the red dress I’d worn to the Midsummer Ball. I all but blushed to look at it, though whatever artist had painted the work had been kind enough to pull up the décolletage to an almost tasteful level so that my ample breasts weren’t the focal point.

  “How the hell does that even exist?” I asked with a laugh.

  Tristan smiled. “I know people. I thought you’d figured that by now. Even though the ball wasn’t the most pleasant night for either of us, I fucking loved how you looked in that dress, so I commissioned the portrait.”

  “You’re insane, but I love you for it,” I said, grabbing a handful of his shirt, yanking him towards me and kissing him hard.

  Without another word I darted into the living room through a doorway at the base of the staircase. Tristan knew my love of comfortable, oversized furniture, so he’d ordered a large, gray L-shaped sofa, which was the centerpiece of the gorgeous room. The walls were light gray with glossy white trim around enormous windows that displayed a view of the wilderness that surrounded us on all sides.

  “This is so amazing,” I sang, dancing my way towards the kitchen in the back of the house. I spun around to look at Tristan as I moved. “We’re going to have sex in every room in this house tonight,” I announced. “For one last night, we’re going to live in sin.”

  “I would have been disappointed with anything less,” he replied as he strolled slowly behind me.

  The kitchen was as incredible as I’d expected. A large, marble-topped island sat at its center, an antique wood dining table at the far end under another massive window that looked down into the depths of the property, towards the Magic Lake where we’d be married tomorrow.

  I spun around and leaped up onto the table, pulling my thighs open and gesturing for Tristan to come closer.

  “Really? Now?” he asked, an eyebrow raised. “But you haven’t seen everything yet.”

  “You’re right. I want to see everything. So take off your clothes, please, Mr. Wolfe.”

  With a chuckle he pulled his t-shirt over his head to reveal the chiseled torso that I loved so well. His scars seemed somehow faded in the diffused light coming through the windows, almost as though he’d begun to heal at long last. But I had no intention of focusing on them; I wanted my eyes to look beyond the reminders of cruelty to the beauty of the man beyond his physical form.

  Lowering his chin to shoot me a sensual stare, he undid his jeans and slowly pulled them to the ground.

  “Pace yourself,” I said, biting my knuckle as my body tightened in anticipation. “I meant what I said. We’re going to fuck in every room in this place.”

  “Don’t worry. I have every intention of taking you up on that offer.”

  Chapter 12

  By eleven p.m., after an exhausting afternoon and evening, Tristan and I had finally tucked ourselves into our second-story bedroom when a loud banging sounded at the front door. I turned to my fiancé, who was already quietly sniffing the air, trying to figure out who the hell would come calling at this hour.

  “Stay here,” he told me. I was sitting up on the bed, drawing the covers around my chest. “I’ll look after this.”

  “Who is it?” I asked.

  “Nobody important,” he replied curtly, climbing out of bed and quickly slipping on a pair of jeans.

  “Tristan…”

  He turned to look at me, offering an attempt at a grin. “It’s fine,” he said. “I’ll look after it. Remember, we have a wedding tomorrow. Sometimes these things involve last-minute planning, which usually means a surprise visit here and there.”

  I lay down again, a slow smile spreading across my lips. So, he was planning yet another surprise for me. What would this one be? A yacht trip around the world? My own plane? A pony?

  I chuckled. The truth was, I would have been perfectly content just to know that I was officially married to the man I loved more than anything in the world. Nothing else mattered. Not his wealth, his power, his fame. I definitely didn’t need any more surprises. Besides, I would have traded all of it for the guarantee that nothing would ever threaten to tear us apart again.

  Tristan had closed the door on his way out of the bedroom, but a few seconds later I heard the muffled sound of male voices. Maybe it was Marcus, come to check in for approval on our vows. Tristan had never been big on cell phones, and we didn’t have a landline in the new house. So it made sense that my former housemate would have had to drive from the city for an in-person meeting.

  I slipped out of bed and strode over to grab the white satin robe that hung from a hook on the back of the door, which I pulled open when I’d covered myself sufficiently.

  Skipping down the hall towards the second story mezzanine, I shouted out, “Marcus! You should spend the night here—there’s plenty of room!”

  But when I reached the place where I could peer down towards the front door, I gasped.

  “You’re…” I choked out. “You’re not Marcus.”

  The man standing in the doorway was tall, broad shouldered, with piercing blue eyes and a shock of thick brown hair.

  Just like his brother’s.

  “Krane,” I gasped, grateful to be far enough away from him that I couldn’t pick up the devilishly sensual scent that had screwed with my mind on more than one occasion.

  “Hello, Ariana,” he said, a smile slipping over his lips. “So nice to see you again.”

  “My brother was just leaving,” Tristan growled, looking up at me with an expression that said Go back to the bedroom and shut the door.

  “Right. I was just leaving,” Krane repeated as if my lover had played some Jedi mind trick on him. He turned away, but spun back to stare at Tristan again. “But before I go…”

  “Krane,” Tristan said in an authoritative voice. “Don’t.”

  Krane lifted his eyes to look at me. “What your future husband is trying to say is that I’ve just warned him about something, and he doesn’t want to listen to me. Maybe you would be so k
ind as to take me seriously.”

  “Warned him? About what?” That same feeling of dread was seeping into my bones again.

  “Nothing,” Tristan replied. “Nothing I didn’t already know, anyhow. Krane’s just causing us problems because it entertains him to ruin my life.”

  “Oh, I beg to differ, Brother,” the other man shot out. “There’s a lot that you don’t know. Trust me—you don’t want to find out the hard way.”

  “I know everything I need to. I’ve dealt with any potential issues. Now you should leave before I…”

  “Before you what?” Krane’s eyes flashed bright gold for a moment before settling back into their usual blue. “Is your big bad wolf going to tear me a new one?” He looked over his shoulder to the world outside. “Or is it that an army of Valks is going to come for me? Don’t forget, Brother dear, last time you tried that it didn’t end so well.”

  I could see Tristan’s shoulders tense as he fought back his wolf. The temperature in the house seemed to be rising by several degrees, as if his rage was somehow altering the climate. Or maybe it was mine. “Just leave, Krane,” he said in a tight voice. “Please.”

  His brother shrugged. “If you insist,” he said. “But keep an eye out. You’re not going to like what you might see tomorrow.” He finally turned to go, but stopped in the doorway. “And don’t say I didn’t fucking warn you, Tristan.”

  Chapter 13

  “What the hell was he talking about, Tristan?” I asked. “What’s going on?”

  He looked up at me as he shut the door, his expression one of concern for the first time in ages. But it quickly shifted into something calmer, which only told me he was working hard to mask his worry. “It’s nothing. Krane doesn’t know that I struck a deal with the Seven,” he said. “He thinks they’ll try to interfere tomorrow. He says they know about the wedding. But like I said, it doesn’t matter.”

  At the mention of the Seven, my fingers wrapped around the railing so hard that my wrists began to ache. My heart racing, I forced myself to loosen my grip and ordered myself not to panic.