Alpha’s Hunger Box Set: Books 1-3

by Wilder, Carina

  He drove into me again and again, fierce and passionate, with a desperate wildness that reminded me all too much of the wolf who lived inside him.

  But just as I felt him swell still more inside me, he pulled out and slipped to his knees again, streaking his tongue over my sex.

  “Fuck, Tristan…I’m going to come,” I moaned. “Keep going…that feels so good.”

  But he didn’t obey my plea. Instead, he rose to his feet again and sheathed himself brutally, slamming his hips into me over and over again, like a man possessed. He pulled out once more, this time to spin me onto my knees on the couch in front of him and bury himself deep again. Leaning forward and reaching around, he fingered my clit as my body heated to a fever pitch, beads of sweat cooling the small of my back.

  “Ariana,” he rasped into my ear, “You’re mine forever. You hear me? No matter what happens…you’re mine.”

  I nodded and whimpered, “Yours forever.”

  “Say it again.”

  “I’m yours forever,” I managed in a more convincing tone. “I’m your Mrs. Wolfe, until the day I die.”

  With one final, savage thrust, he spurted heat inside me. My body clenched around his powerful cock, the convulsions of my exquisite orgasm taking him prisoner inside me.

  I breathed hard, my mind spinning with a combination of sadness and hope. Over and over again, I told myself that whatever happened to his title, to our lives together—we would get through this.

  * * *

  Tristan and I made love all night. On the floor, in the foyer, against the refrigerator. He was like a wild beast, insatiable and desperate. More than once his teeth sank into my flesh just enough to leave a mark, but not enough to change me. The wolf inside him seemed to want to make me his partner in every possible way, but Tristan’s human side fought back over and over again, taking control just as he came close.

  By the time we climbed into our bed at five in the morning, we were both raw, our bodies spent. There was no question by now that we’d consummated our marriage. No matter what the Seven tried to pull, we were now one. They could rip away Tristan’s title. They could take our home from us, our money, every material thing we owned.

  But we would still be together.

  That was worth more than anything in the world.

  Chapter 18

  After our long night together, I awoke around two p.m. to the sun’s rays piercing through the thick curtains on the windows that flanked the bed on one side. For a second I lay there in a blissful state, thinking about nothing but our wedding night. The love-making, the mad passion with which Tristan had taken me over and over again, like a man possessed.

  From the beginning, our lives together had consisted of one moment of drama after another, but last night, my lover had somehow managed to take it to a whole new level.

  I couldn’t help but wonder, though, how much of it had to do with the woman who’d interrupted our wedding ceremony. That awful, cruel creature who should have died two hundred years ago.

  A sudden, violent memory flashed through my mind of Elodie’s eyes. Those cold, awful irises, fixed on Tristan’s face like she wanted to murder him and eat him, all at once. She’d reminded me so much of Krane, with her seductive voice, her attempts at mind control.

  The difference was that I’d seen the potential of good in Krane. In his own twisted way, he seemed to want to protect Tristan.

  Elodie, on the other hand, was pure spite. Pure nastiness.

  I hated her.

  The good news was that Tristan hadn’t given in. He’d fought her off, pushed her away. All because of his love for me.

  Affection warming my insides, I reached an arm out in search of my husband, only to find the rumpled sheets next to me empty.

  A sudden, horrifying shot of adrenaline coursed through my body as I shot up to a sitting position and looked around.

  There was no sign of him.

  I leapt out of bed and grabbed a red silk robe that sat on a nearby chair. Tristan had given it to me ages ago, telling me that its color complemented my fiery soul—whatever that meant. Right now, all I felt was the strain of fear on my heart. If anything, my soul was a weak mess of nerves and anxiety.

  Flinging the robe on, I darted to the bathroom and threw open the door.

  No one.

  Downstairs to the front foyer.

  Nothing.

  It was only when I’d sprinted into the kitchen that I discovered the thing I’d been dreading since I’d realized the house was quiet. A note was sitting on the marble island, folded in half with the words To my Wife written in tidy, elegant script.

  My fingers shook as I reached for the paper. I had no idea why it frightened me so much, but suddenly I longed for someone—anyone—to stand by my side and support me, to help me get through what I was about to endure. I needed my father. My sister. Any of those I’d lost. I needed a hand on my shoulder to reassure me, because the piece of paper I was reaching for was already rendering me weak with terror, and I wasn’t sure if I could survive its contents.

  Trembling, I pulled it open and laid it flat on the counter.

  Dear Ariana,

  I have loved you forever. I know it sounds impossible, given that we’ve only known each other a short time, but it’s the truth. You’re the woman I dreamed of when I was young and naive, the woman I dreamed of when my wolf came and stole my soul away from me.

  You’re the woman who always lived inside my mind, who brought me back from the brink of madness…because I knew, even then, that you would one day find me and make me yours.

  Every second with you—good, difficult, infuriating—has been perfection. Every touch of your lips, every look. You are my dream. You are my goddess.

  I will love you from this life to the next. Always, always know that. Remember every day, every morning, every night, how much I loved you. Never, ever be lonely, because I’ll always be with you.

  You are my wife, whatever may happen. And I’m your husband. That will never change.

  Please, for your own sake, don’t try to find me. I ask you this for your own good, and for the good of all those we care about—Kara, Marcus, my pack and Trick’s. You need to go back to New York as soon as possible. Live a good life for me. Do everything you ever dreamed of.

  I’ve made arrangements to give you access to my accounts, so you will never want for anything.

  Please think of me from time to time. Remember how much the man with the blood of a wolf adored his wife.

  All my love,

  Tristan

  The second I finished, I collapsed in a heap on the tile floor, tears flowing uncontrollably down my cheeks.

  He hadn’t said the actual words, but they were there all the same.

  I’d never see him again.

  But why? Had he chosen to go with Elodie, after everything? Was he going to be with her after all?

  No. No way. Tristan wouldn’t do that to me. If he had even one breath in him, he would try to be with me, to find a way to live his life by my side. I knew that now; I’d known it for a long time. He loved me with all his heart and soul.

  So none of this made sense. Not his disappearance, not his pushing me away…nothing.

  For what seemed like an eternity my breathing came painfully, my lungs fighting for air as I fought back tormented sobs. I felt weak—too weak to rise to my feet, to make my way upstairs and get dressed.

  But it was the only thing I could possibly do now. I needed to find out what had happened, why my happiness had been shredded so cruelly, so abruptly. Why the love of my life had deserted me, after everything we’d been through.

  I reached up, grabbed the edge of the marble slab countertop above me, and yanked myself to my feet. When I was finally standing I dragged myself towards the foyer, trying in vain to come up with a plan. I had no recollection of pushing my weight up the stairs, no idea how I ended up in the bedroom. But somehow I was there, staring, nauseated, at the bed where we’d slept together for t
he last time.

  The one thing I knew was that I still smelled of sex and sweat. My face was a mess of mascara and tears. But there was no time to worry about appearances.

  Nothing mattered, not anymore.

  I needed to find Tristan.

  Chapter 19

  I looked out the bedroom window at the front of the house to see that Tristan’s car was gone. It wasn’t a surprise, of course, but it still managed to feel like a blow. I was now stranded in the middle of nowhere with no escape.

  My husband had done this to me, supposedly for my own good. He’d trapped me in the house that should have provided us with the happiest days of our lives.

  I perched wearily on the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, my face in my hands. There was no way around it; I needed help. But Kara had headed back to Manhattan after flying us down here, so calling her would be pointless.

  Marcus had disappeared.

  The only person around that I could count on was…

  Trick.

  Of course! The Alpha would be able to help me. He could probably track Tristan’s whereabouts, or at least his pack could. If anyone knew how to find my husband, it would be him.

  I raced downstairs and grabbed my cell phone from its charging station, clicking it to life.

  No signal.

  Fuck.

  I wrenched the front door open and raced outside, holding the phone up towards the sky, as if that would help. But as I made my way towards the road, it seemed to; suddenly three magical bars appeared on the screen. Running a quick search for Trick’s Boat Tours, I found a phone number, which I clicked immediately. With every fiber of my being I hoped he’d answer.

  “Pick up, pick up,” I moaned as it rang. After far too many seconds, a cheery female voice on the other end chimed, “Trick’s Tours! How can I help you today?”

  A woman. Damn it. She was probably a receptionist. I needed the man himself.

  “I…” I stammered, my voice quaking. “My name is Ariana Clarke. I’m so sorry, but I need to talk to…”

  “Ariana!” the voice suddenly became animated. “Trick told me what happened yesterday. I’m so sorry. Is everything okay?”

  “No,” I blurted out miserably. “Look, I’m sorry, but is he there?”

  “Trick? He’s out back. Hang on a second and I’ll get him.”

  “Thanks.”

  Seconds later, I heard the shuffling of feet and the deep voice of the Southern Alpha.

  “Ariana, what’s happened?” he asked. But from the tone of his voice, I suspected he already had some idea.

  “It’s Tristan,” I said. “He’s…he’s gone. He left a note…but I don’t know where he is, or what to do…I’m so terrified that I’ll never see him again, Trick…”

  “Do you have a car?” he asked in a controlled voice, no doubt sensing that I needed every ounce of his energy to keep me sane right now.

  “No,” I said. “Is there any way you can come here? I’m desperate.”

  “Of course. I’m on my way. Be there as soon as I can.”

  The next twenty minutes were a living hell. I paced around the house, biting my nails until they all but bled. Occasionally I’d catch a glimpse of my disheveled self in a reflective surface. I almost wanted to laugh, to think this was the way I looked the day after my wedding. What was supposed to be the happiest time of my life had somehow turned into outright torment, and I looked like death warmed over. It was no wonder; I felt like my insides had been torn apart, and until I knew what had become of Tristan, things wouldn’t get any better. Everything had gone so horribly wrong that I wasn’t sure if I’d died and gone to Hell.

  Finally, a knock sounded at the front door. I raced into the foyer and pulled it open. When I saw Trick’s face, I was tempted to throw myself into his arms and weep, but there was no time for that, damn it. Instead, I shoved Tristan’s note into his hands.

  “Does it mean anything to you?” I asked when he’d had a chance to scan it.

  “Sure. It means a lot.” He stared at the page rather than meeting my eyes, his chest heaving with something that looked like quiet rage.

  “I need more than that, Trick,” I told him. “You have to explain to me what it means or I’m going to lose my mind.”

  He pulled his eyes to mine. They’d gone a searing, terrifying blue that told me his powerful wolf was awake and vigilant inside him. “It means Tristan’s expecting to die,” he said.

  The brutal honesty in his words made me press a hand to the door frame to keep myself from collapsing yet again. “That’s what I thought,” I moaned. “Fuck, I was hoping you’d read some secret shifter code into it. I would rather have found out he’d run away with Elodie, to be honest. It would have killed me, but at least I’d know he was okay.”

  “There’s no code in these words.” Trick ground his jaw, his body taut like a steel cable. “I should have fucking known.”

  “Known what?”

  “What Tristan told us yesterday, about the deal he made with Elodie—it wasn’t true. He said it so you wouldn’t try to stop him from making his choice. She must have given him another ultimatum altogether, and I can guess what it was.”

  I inhaled, holding the air tight in my chest. “What?”

  “His life or yours,” he said.

  “Oh God,” I whispered, leaning my weight against the door jamb.

  “It’s the only way he’d ever agree to her demands,” Trick added.

  My heart was thundering in my chest now, sweat beading on my back. “Where is he?” I asked. “Where could he have gone?”

  “I don’t know,” Trick said. “All I know is that we need to find him, and soon.” He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and hunted for a signal before asking, “Can I just make a phone call quickly?”

  I nodded. Anything he could do to help.

  A minute later he was outside talking to Louis, one of his pack mates. I couldn’t make out much from his end of the conversation; only that he seemed to be sending out wolves to hunt through the woods around the district.

  As soon as he’d hung up, he turned to me. “Let’s go,” he said.

  “Go where? Do you know where he is?” I asked hopefully.

  But he shook his head. “No, but we’re going to drive, and if that fucking phone rings, I’ll grab it.” With that he ushered me outside and pulled the door shut. “Don’t worry, my pack’s excellent at tracking. They found out within an hour where your friend went.”

  “Marcus?” I asked. In all the madness I’d nearly forgotten about him.

  Trick nodded as he marched over to an old, beat-up pickup truck. “Yeah. They think he’s with the shifter who came out of the woods yesterday. The…”

  “The Marquis,” I said, opening the passenger side door and climbing in, my blood ready to boil. “That bastard—why the hell would Marcus ever go off with him?”

  “Maybe he likes his name?” Trick said, smirking. “Marcus—Marquis?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I asked. I might not have had a wolf inside me, but I was about ready to punch him.

  “Sorry. I thought we could use a little levity.” He turned to me as he started the engine. “Look, I don’t know why he would have left like that. But this is my territory, and I’ll do everything I can to make sure you get both men back, safe and sound.”

  “Thank you.” I was clenching my hands together, trying not to scream. It wasn’t Trick’s fault that I felt so helpless, but fuck, I needed to take it out on someone.

  “As for Marcus, he’s a Lesser, right?” he asked, pulling onto the dirt road.

  “He is,” I said. “He wasn’t doing well. Tristan was about to free him after the wedding, but then everything went haywire.”

  “So you’re telling me he’s desperate.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, but where are you going with this?”

  “Desperate men with nothing to lose tend to do really stupid things, Ariana. Your friend might not have had a choice.”r />
  “You think the Marquis offered him some kind of deal?”

  “I don’t know,” Trick said, stepping on the gas. “All I can say is there are some pretty ugly deals being struck around these parts right now, and I don’t like it one bit. Damn it, Tristan.”

  My spine straightened at the mention of my husband’s name. “What’s Tristan got to do with this?”

  “Every time that husband of yours comes to my territory, shit goes down. I’m not saying it’s his fault. Just that trouble follows him like a lost damn puppy.”

  “So let’s find him, then,” I said. “I’ll take him back to New York, and I promise you that as long as I live, we’ll never step foot in the bayous of Louisiana again.”

  “Deal.”

  * * *

  We drove until Trick pulled down a narrow lane flanked by tall trees, their branches draped in delicate strands of moss. At its end was a beaten-up one-story building with a sign outside that said Trick’s Boat Tours.

  “What are we doing at your business?” I asked as we approached, panic surging up in my chest again. “I thought we were going to hunt for Tristan.”

  Trick shook his head. “I need you to wait here while I head out and see what I can uncover. You need to be somewhere quiet. If we drive around all day, trust me—it’ll make you nuts.”

  “But what if…” I began, but he held a hand up to stop me.

  “Look, I promise that if I find something, I’ll be back here so fast you won’t know what hit you. I need to hunt, which means I need to be in my wolf form. You can’t come with me trudging through the bayou; you’d only slow me down. So do me a favor and stay here, with Sierra. She’ll look after you. I promise, Ariana—I’ll get you to Tristan before they…”