Cruel Alpha, Season One (Wolves of New Eden #1)

4. Tsk-Tsk, Little Wolf

4

Tsk-Tsk, Little Wolf

Annalise

It’s hard enough to find the old lake house in broad daylight, so with only the aid of landmarks in the middle of the night, it’s practically impossible. I’m tempted to shift and let my wolf lead the way, but I’m not even certain that would work.

It’s been years since I’ve visited. The last time my parents took me, I was ten—long before my first shift, too young to remember much of anything, which means I’m screwed.

In theory, the lake house nestled beside the water would’ve been the perfect place to settle. It was my parents’ little secret. We’d never visited with friends or family, so no one would even think to look there. Problem is, it’s so well hidden not even I can find it.

“Just great,” I say under my breath, perching both hands on my hips when I stop. Not only am I picking up on my own scent, this is also the second time I’ve passed this same dead oak tree.

So, after wandering in the woods for nearly five hours, I’m calling it. I’m officially lost, which makes this the perfect end to the perfect day.

Defeated, I drop to the ground and use the dead oak as a back rest. I’m starting to think I’ll have to make camp here. And by ‘ make camp’ , I mean I’ll slump to the side and let my backpack serve as a pillow because I’m exhausted.

An owl hoots from a treetop a few yards away, and I call up my wolf to sharpen my vision. I’m able to see every detail of the bird, and it senses me, swiveling its neck this way. We make eye contact, and as far as birds go, owls are by far the creepiest. Whether it’s the way they seem to stare into your soul or their square heads, they’ve always made me uneasy.

Now, lucky me gets to bunk with one tonight.

I let my wolf retreat and try to doze, but I’m feeling anxious. And not to mention, still hurting on the inside. So much that I’d welcome numbness in a heartbeat.

It isn’t lost on me that, at the root of this entire ordeal, is the fact that no man has ever touched me. While I can’t say for sure that my uncle wouldn’t have been just as eager to make a deal with our alpha, or that Caspian wouldn’t have been as smitten, I’m willing to bet I’d be safe at home in my bed tonight if I weren’t a virgin. Losing it would devalue me in everyone’s eyes but my own, which sounds like a dream.

My purity has become a bargaining chip among powerful men. Well, that, and the fact that I bear the last name Breedlove—a detail far out of my control. However, between the two, I’m seen as somewhat of a unicorn in New Eden. And, quite frankly, I’m sick and tired of it.

I’ve never been in charge of anything my entire life, and I believe one should at least be able to dictate the boundaries of their sexuality. Hell, if I weren’t scared out of my socks to cross the border on my own, I’d make my way to the Springtide Rally in the coming weeks and get it all out of my system. I’ve heard rumors about what goes on there, but haven’t known anyone who’s attended personally. According to my aunt, it’s nothing more than a massive orgy where young wolves do unseemly things to each other, then return home the following week as though nothing happened. She’d also point out that only the ‘Filthy East’ would even dream of hosting such a thing. But what I’ve heard from others is that, while the Springtide Rally may be all those things Aunt Geneva mentioned, it’s also a rite of passage for young wolves.

Wolves from clans that aren’t as restrictive or repressed as the North, that is.

The thought of it has me tossing and turning, until I eventually give up on rest. I slip both arms into my bag again as I stand, because if I can’t sleep, I may as well try to cover some ground. Provided I’m able to figure out which direction I ought to be traveling.

A tiny, glowing green orb up ahead grabs my attention—a firefly. It reminds me of chasing them through the open field behind our house when I was a kid, back when things were simple, and life still made sense. I walk toward where the bug hovers near a stump, and it doesn’t seem startled. So, I step closer and only now does it begin to flutter away. I take another step, and it moves a bit further. Before long, I realize I’m following this tiny creature that has no more of an idea where the lake house is than I do. Which means, I’ve honestly got nothing to lose at this point.

We’re covering ground, my new friend and me. Before I know it, we’ve reached a tall, chain-link fence, partially hidden by overgrown vines and dead leaves that have gathered at its base. I approach it, wondering what’s on the other side. From here, all I see are more trees, and maybe a clearing not too far up ahead. Stepping back, I consider climbing it, but the barbed wire along the top bar changes my mind. Just as I’m thinking I’ll have to stop and regroup, my trusty new friend flutters her way through an opening I hadn’t noticed before.

It's small, maybe too small, but it’s worth a try.

The fence rattles when I shove my bag through the opening and then kneel to the ground. I slip my head through first, then twist my shoulders sideways to fit. To my surprise, I make it fairly easily, and the only damage I’ve sustained is the small tear above my back pocket.

Brushing both palms clean on my pants, I continue straight ahead. The tiny green light is still keeping up and I’m oddly comforted that it’s stuck with me. Guess this is a testament to how lonely and pathetic I’ve become—I make friends with bugs now. Laughing, I shake my head a bit, crossing the tree line into a clearing that stretches on for at least a mile. There are no distinct markers that I’ve noticed, but then I take back that thought, because I spot something.

Calling my wolf forth again, my eyes sharpen, and I make out what I now know to be a sign. One with words printed in bold letters I still can’t quite decipher. I bring my wolf deeper into my consciousness, and the letters become clearer. Only, when they do, my heart sinks as I read them aloud.

“Warning: All trespassers without proper credentials are in breach of Eastern Quadrant legislation. Anyone found in violation of this code must either be turned over to Clan Eris officials or be put to death.”

I stagger back, questioning the legitimacy of the statement I’ve just read.

“Can they… do these things?”

While there are many things I would change about my quadrant, I’d take their oppression and strict rules over the savagery of the East any day. There’s no breath in my lungs as the full scope of the mistake I’ve made weighs heavy on me. Without realizing how far I’d traveled, I’ve crossed enemy lines. And according to this sign, I absolutely cannot run the risk of getting caught.

Scrambling, I race back toward the tree line. My destination is set on that small opening in the fence I never should’ve climbed through. By this point, I’ve all but forgotten about my glowing companion, because I’ve got a one-track mind, and that singular track is focused only on survival, making it far away from this place.

I’m panting, feeling unreasonably paranoid, but then again, maybe it’s not so unreasonable. It’s a known fact that the Eastern border is heavily patrolled, and if that sign I’ve just read is true, Clan Eris are among the most ruthless.

While my thoughts race, both feet get tripped up and I go down. Hard. My stomach and chest slam the ground with a thud, knocking the wind out of me, but I have to get up, have to run before I’m spotted. But as I stand to my feet and get my bearings, my surroundings fly past in a blur, flipping upside down as I’m swooped into a net, getting more tangled in the thick web of rope by the second.

Instinct tells me to scream, but then I remember that’s a bad idea. Because… would I really want to see who’d show up if I called out?

Breathless, I try to ignore what an utter failure tonight has been and think of my next move.

How will I get out of this?

Will I get out of this?

A heavy sense of dread and defeat hit me first, but those emotions quickly scurry when terror sets in. This time, it’s not the random, unwarranted variety.

But the kind brought on by an actual threat and the realization that… someone’s out there.

A breath hisses from my lungs with each sharp gasp as my head whips in all directions. It’s at this moment that I notice my wolf’s silence, which is a far cry from the usual. Typically, I’m forced to wrangle her in when I’m in danger, because she’s poised and ready to be let out. But right now, as I dangle from a massive tree like a fish out of water, she’s nowhere to be found. Which can only mean one thing…

Wolfsbane.

The net must have been soaked in it before being hung. A diluted mixture. Enough to deplete my strength, but not enough to leave my skin and eyes feeling like they’re on fire.

But there isn’t much time to worry about such details as I pant, staring down two broad silhouettes stalking in this direction. Iridescent eyes glare through the darkness—one set red, a characteristic of a beta wolf. The other, blue.

The color of an alpha’s eyes.

My thoughts and heart race wildly. If I’ve somehow screwed up so badly that the Eastern Quadrant’s alpha has hunted me down, according to the posted warning, I’m as good as dead.

But as the figures stalk closer, I recognize one’s features—a devastatingly handsome face, a glare filled with anger and wicked intentions.

I was wrong.

Completely.

The alpha who’s come for me, the one who now holds my very existence in his hands… is my own.

He steps close, looping his lengthy fingers through the net as he draws my dangling body closer. I shudder when one corner of his mouth curves upward with a dark smile.

One that sends the deepest of chills racing down my spine.

“I told you to be smart, Little Wolf, but you chose to test the limits of my patience instead.” He sighs, holding my gaze as frustration blooms in his expression.

He leans closer, and I feel the heat of his breath against my face.

“Now that I know you can’t be trusted, there’s only one way to tame a wild wolf. Do you have an inkling what that method might be?” he asks.

I’m quiet and he smirks again before breathing the answer.

“Punishment.”

I’m at a loss for words because fear has momentarily stolen them, but when they return, it’s to ask a question.

“How did you?—"

“How did I find you?” Alpha Caspian cuts in, finishing my question in that deep, menacing tone I’ve already grown to loathe. He smirks. “Let’s just say you should never underestimate the intuition of an alpha. I saw it in your eyes before you left. The defiance that let me know you weren’t nearly as content as you pretended to be. So, naturally… I followed you.”

I knew he’d come for me, but I didn’t expect it to be so soon.

He has countless wolves at his disposal. Wolves that could’ve taken on this task for him. But instead, he came on his own, traipsing through the woods in the middle of the night, setting traps, hunting me down.

Now, the only promise that lies ahead is that I’ll surely feel his wrath.

He said so already himself.

A gust sweeps past, and the wind brings his distinct scent to my nostrils, that of rich soil and cedar. I draw it in deep, filling my lungs. It’s more potent than when we met earlier this evening. Likely because it’s mingled with his sweat, and this intriguing new aroma causes saliva to collect in my mouth. I try avoiding it, try resisting the urge to breathe deep and savor it by holding my breath, but nature doesn’t work that way. Wolves are meant to identify— and enjoy —these subtle distinctions between the sexes. And at the moment, the alpha has me betraying my own will by inhaling the rawness of him.

The only thing I should be feeling as he stands before me is fear. The only thing I should be thinking is what my next move will be once the effects of the wolfsbane wear off.

But, instead, I can only focus on him .

He’s so close. Close enough that I can measure the width of his broad shoulders with a glance. So close I’m rendered silent by the flagrant masculinity bleeding confidence into his stride as he circles me. There is much to him, but most of all, he’s an alpha through and through. Beneath his solid weight, debris crunches under his feet. It isn’t lost on me that these may be my final moments. Any second now, he could slit my throat with his claws for having blatantly defied him.

He stops beside me again, but with my wolf bound, I don’t see as well as I’d like to. I was too disoriented when I was first yanked up by the net, but I have my bearings now. Which is why I’m just now taking in that he’s shirtless, thick muscle padding his upper body and arms in ways not often seen within the clan. Yes, our men are strong and formidable, but… not like this.

He’s built to be a literal killing machine, built to defend our clan against even the most fearsome enemies who could rise against us. At the thought of it, I feel the slightest bit more vulnerable and fear spikes inside me.

The breadth of his chest tapers into a trim waist, and seeing as how he’s clearly just shifted out of wolf form, I can guess he’s completely naked below the waist, too. In fact, if it weren’t for the shadow covering his hips and lower, and my crumpled position inside the net, I’d see more of him than I ever care to.

The one to Caspian’s right is bare-chested as well. The length of his hair is bound in a knot behind his head, and I recognize him. Not that we’ve met face-to-face, but I’ve seen him in passing, as well as in photographs and on television alongside Caspian on numerous occasions. He’s our clan beta. While the pair are blood brothers, maybe a few years separating them, they’ve been assigned two very different lots in life.

One, destined to rule Clan Centauri for the foreseeable future.

The other, a soldier sworn to lay down his life for the alpha should the need ever arise.

His red stare glows in my direction, the low rumble of a warning growl vibrating in his chest.

“Easy, Dimitri,” Caspian slowly croons. “Let’s see if she can explain herself before we resort to violence.”

If I were able to access my wolf, I’d tear my way out of this net and run like hell, but alas…

Caspian approaches and gives the net a hard push, sending me swinging like a pendulum. They laugh, and I feel mortified. Weak. My body slams his solid chest when I fly back toward him, and he hooks his fingers through the ropes to hold me in place.

Now the quiet growl emanating through the air is my own. My wolf’s only means of making herself known under these circumstances.

“Well, shit,” Caspian says with a laugh. “Have I upset you, Little Wolf?”

“Just… cut me down and I’ll cooperate,” I lie. I think we both know I’d run away or die trying. Probably the latter.

He lets out another throaty laugh. “Is that how you think things work? You think an act of defiance results in blind trust?”

A subtle gust of wind sweeps through the net, and Dimitri’s red stare brightens, filled with curiosity. He steps up and sniffs the air more deeply, awareness suddenly flooding his eyes. It takes a moment for me to figure it out, but I get it now.

It’s my scent.

He inhales more deeply, as if to confirm that the aroma he’s detected is, in fact, coming from my direction. My thoughts shift back to how Caspian described it—cinnamon and lavender. And now, Dimitri also knows what others have so easily detected.

That I’m frustratingly pure.

Moonlight glints off Caspian’s teeth when he bares them, and I realize he’s also become aware of Dimitri’s slow, subtle advance. Caspian shifts a glare over his shoulder, aiming his blue irises right at his beta.

“You can look. I’ll even allow you to enjoy her scent,” he says. “But I warn you, Brother. Do not forget your place.”

A breath hitches in my throat at the sharpness of his tone. Dimitri is a large man, formidable. But in this moment, he may as well be a child with how he cowers at his brother’s words. Then, he takes two very cautious steps backward, and the dynamic between them becomes crystal clear.

“My apologies, Alpha,” he grovels, lowering his gaze to the ground.

Slowly, Caspian rolls his gaze back to me, and our eyes lock.

“Now, to decide what on Earth to do with you ,” he grumbles, the net still in his grasp. Contemplating, he aimlessly swings me back and forth.

My heart thunders against my ribs as another breeze sends Caspian’s heady fragrance directly into my nostrils. I hate what it does to me. Hate that it twists my intent, makes my thoughts volley between carnality and terror.

“Might I make a suggestion?” Dimitri speaks up, breaking the spell.

Caspian’s head tilts as he takes me in from a new angle. “I’m listening.”

“Well, it’s late,” Dimitri points out. “We had a hell of a time tracking her down, so maybe we put her in a cell and deal with her in the morning.”

I imagine it, being shoved inside some dark, damp cell until they’re ready to decide my fate. My lips part to protest, but no sound leaves me because fear has seized my throat.

“That might not be such a bad idea,” Caspian agrees, then directs his words toward me again. “Well, Little Wolf, I gave you a clear choice—heaven or hell. And tonight, it seems you’ve chosen your path.”

Flashing that dark grin again, he seals my fate with three little words.

“Hell it is.”