Alpha Ever After (Midnight Liaisons Book 5)

C
onnor's loved
Savannah from the moment he laid eyes on her. She's his mate, no matter what she says.

Savannah's hated the Anderson pack ever since they kidnapped her. That fateful week had big consequences, though, and now she's pregnant with Connor's twins. He's elated. She's...less enthusiastic. She wants the babies but him? Not so much. He's a bossy werewolf who thinks he can dictate what she does. She's a were-cougar who won't be pushed, especially not by a know-it-all wolf alpha.

So why is it every time that she tries to move on, he's right there waiting for her? And why does she compare everyone else to a certain tall, dark wolf? Why does she crave Connor more than pickles and ice cream?

6
months
ago

I stare up at the movie screen blankly, not seeing the action flick in front of me. Instead, all I can hear are my boyfriend's casual words ringing in my ears.

"I think we should see other people," he'd commented oh-so-casually just as the movie started.

Now the damn thing's half over and I can't even tell you what it's about. All I can think is that my stupid boyfriend wants to dump me just before I'm about to go into heat.

Of course, he doesn't
know
I'm about to go into heat. I haven't said anything. Actually, I was planning on broaching the 'let's go all the way' conversation tonight. The whole ‘let’s take things to the next level’ chat that I’d been waiting three months to have.

Guess I can save that conversation for some other time.

I cross my arms and stew as I stare at the movie screen as a car roars across an empty highway. The theater is full of cheering people, but my boyfriend is silent. Did he deliberately land that bomb on me right before the movie started so I couldn't say anything?

This timing was awful. Or perfect, I suppose, considering my boyfriend Chris was a jerk. But we'd been dating for two months. He was a nice guy - cute, flirty, fun to be around. He held the door open for me when we went out, and he didn't pressure me into sex.

He's also a tiger shifter, which means he's compatible for my were-cougar shifting side. Really, he's perfect on paper.

On
paper
.

I stew as the movie continues. I can't believe this. I'm going into heat very soon. It's making me pissy and oversexed and needy. I'd planned on saving myself until my marriage, but going into heat is a big deal for shifter women. We don't ovulate like human women, so you might only get one or two (or if you're really lucky, three) heats in your life. It's not something you can avoid and we're not fertile unless we're in heat. So in addition to the 'must have sex' issue, there's also the issue of family.

Sure, I can make my boyfriend wear a condom. But am I ready to say that
yes, I absolutely do not want children right now
? Or possibly ever? What if I never go into heat again and I've missed my chance?

Not that this was an issue before. I enjoyed dating Chris. He’s a great guy, smart, funny, and charming.

Now though...he wants to see other women.

And here I was about to jump in the sack with him. But if I don't sleep with Chris, who? The heat won't give me an option. The longer I put it off, the more uncomfortable I'll be, and I'll make every male in the territory try to pounce me. My cousin Beau, the leader of the paranormal alliance, has already been making awkward (but well meant) comments about how I need to prepare.

Lots of girl shifters go out of town for the weekend. It's kind of like a shifter-moon. You have a nice weekend in the woods, away from civilization, boink your mate of choice until you both can't stand it any longer...and then come back home either pregnant or not. Either way, it's handled.

My hands clench, my claws coming dangerously close to the surface.

Mine
isn't
handled. My
boyfriend
wants to see other
people
.

Chris glances over at me. He offers me his popcorn bucket. "Want some?"

I go to push it back toward him, and I hit it harder than intended. The bucket goes skittering over into the lap of the next person, and a few people murmur angry exclamations.

The row behind us hisses with "Shhhh!"

Fuck it. I'm so mad. It's probably the hormones making me a ragebeast, but I don't care. I lean in toward Chris. "We need to talk."

He glances at the screen. "Right now? It's just getting good."

He can stay if he wants. He can see other people if he wants. I'm done. I storm out of my seat and head up the aisle, slinging my purse over my shoulder.

"Hey, hey," Chris calls, following me. "What's going on?"

A flurry of people shush us. I don't stop - no sense in ruining everyone else's day. I don't stop until I'm out of the theater and the door swings shut behind me. The scent of popcorn and hot dogs fills my nose, and my stomach grumbles. I'm always hungry lately.

Hungry, and pissy. I should be going into heat any day now. Probably this weekend. Well, shit. I lean against the wall, sucking in deep breaths and waiting for my claws to retract back to fingernails again. I close my eyes. I'm normally a calm person. Why am I so out of control at the moment? The impending heat must be messing with my mind.

The door to the theater opens again, and music blares, then goes quiet once more as the door swings shut. Chris's scent hits me a moment before I hear his voice. "Savannah, what's going on?"

I open my eyes and glare at him. "You just told me you want to see other people."

He tilts his head in a thoroughly catlike way. "Were we exclusive? We never really said."

My eyes widen. "Are you kidding me?"

He shrugs, looking uncomfortable at my rage. "I just, you know." He scratches at his neck idly. "You just want to take things super slow and all, and it's hard on a guy."

Hard on him? Was he serious? I gape at him as if seeing him for the first time. Chris is cute, but male shifters outnumber female shifters three to one. I should have my pick of guys. Instead, he's acting like I'm holding him back. "I'm about to go into heat," I spit at him.

A bright smile crosses his face. "Oh, well, I am glad to hear that."

I cross my arms again, a dangerous look on my face. "Do tell."

"Well it explains your mood," he says, and when my eyes narrow, he continues on. "Plus, you know, sex."

"So this is about sex?"

He looks confused. "Why else would I want to see other people?"

Great. Now my head hurts. I knew when I started dating Chris that he wasn't a rocket scientist. He's a Merino, and, well, the tiger clan isn't known for their brains. Brawniness, yes. Good looks, yes. Brains? No. I rub my forehead, frustrated. "Well, I suppose I'm glad I found out now."

"Me too," he says with a bright grin. "Now I can cancel my date on Friday night."

I stare at him. "Wait, so now you want to be exclusive again?"

"If I'm getting my nut off, sure." He shrugs.

Seriously? Where was this Neanderthal coming from? I gape at him. "So you wanted to see other people because I wouldn't put out? We're through, Chris."

His brows furrow together. "But you're going into heat. You need me."

I need him like I need a hole in the head. I push off the wall. "I'll figure something out. Goodbye."

"Come on, baby. Don't be like that." He grabs my arm and his touch makes me weaken for a moment. Chris ducks his head and gives me a charming little smile. "If we go back into the theater we can catch the rest of the movie. Then we can hit up a nice hotel room..."

Even though my body says YES YES YES my brain says UGH NO. I jerk out of his grip. "No. We're still done. Goodbye." I wave a dismissive hand at him. "You're now free to date as many women as you want."

His lip curls into an ugly snarl. "Prude. I wouldn't have to if you put out."

Once again, it seems to be my fault. Dick. I shoot him the finger and then stomp out of the theater.

It isn't until I'm outside that the blistering anger that's taken ahold of me fades a little. I'm just so mad and disappointed, more at myself than anything else. Why had I thought Chris was a great date? Was I just forcing myself to see us as compatible? We didn't have much in common, including our choice of movies. Maybe my hormones are forcing me to settle.

Ugh. I don't like to think about that. I suck in breath of warm night air, and glance around the parking lot. All is quiet, with everyone in our small town still packed inside watching the movie. My boyfriend - ex-boyfriend, I suppose - is still inside and I need a ride home. I pull out my phone to call one of my cousins. Maybe Ellis or Everett can give me a ride home. I'd call Beau but he's been occupied with some girl lately.

I dial and the phone doesn't connect. Frustrated, I hold it up and see I have no bars. Dammit. No reception. I walk through the parking lot, holding my phone up as I wait to see a few bars appear.

I hear a car start in the distance. It's a parking lot, though, so I pay no attention to it. If I hold my phone in the air, I get a single bar, so I step off the curb, trying to get better reception.

The moment I do, tires squeal. The scent of gasoline and werewolf envelops me, and I look up just as rough hands grab me and pull me into a dirty truck.

My scream is muffled by a big, hairy hand, and the smell of sweat and werewolf overpowers me. I look into the leering gaze of Buck Anderson, local redneck and werewolf.

"Here, kitty kitty," he says, and then laughs. "Nice kitty."

I inhale, anger surging through me. Werewolves have never played nice with the Paranormal Alliance. We make rules, and they break them. If they think they can kidnap me, they have another thing coming. My claws pop again and a warning growl rumbles in my throat.

"Bad kitty," Buck says. "Don't you bite me."

I bare my teeth, intending to do just that.

"Quit playing with the pussy," the driver says. I recognize the voice as Maynard Anderson. He asked me out last year and I declined. Surely that can't be what this is about? Something is tossed between the two men, and then Buck waves a gun in front of my face.

"Don't make me use this, honey."

I go still.

He pats my shoulder and tucks me against him. "That's better."

"What do you want with me?" I whisper.

I rack my brain, trying to think of something I might have done to piss off the Anderson werewolf clan, but I'm drawing a blank.

"We don't really want you, sugar," Buck says. "We're just gonna borrow you for a little bit to encourage your cousin to see things our way."

"My cousin?" I stammer. I have several. Ellis, Everett, Austin, ladies' man Josh, quiet Jeremiah...

"Beauregard," Maynard drawls. "He's hiding a lady werewolf from us, and we want her."

"Figure a switch is a switch," Buck says affably. He pats me again, like I'm a dog. "So you see, you go along with us real nice, and nothing will happen to you."

"We just want what's ours," Maynard agrees.

The shit that I'm in just got deeper by a mile.

"
G
et in there
," Buck says, shoving me forward blindly. His hands grip mine behind my back, and my arms jerk when I stumble. For the hundreth time, I think about shape changing and fighting my way out of here, but with the way my arms are positioned, they'll both break the moment I start to transition.

A sweaty t-shirt has been shoved over my face, and I can't see a thing as they push me onward. I know we're in the woods, and we have been for some time, but that's all I know. They could be taking me out here to kill me. They could be taking me out here to release me. I don't know for sure. There's a heavy scent of werewolf in this area, which means we're deep in Anderson territory.

Not the place a Russell were-cougar wants to be.

There's always been bad blood between the Russells and the Andersons, and it's not just a cat and dog thing. My cousin Beau makes the rules for the Paranormal Alliance, which covers all shape shifters. There's a belief that we're stronger together, and so most clans abide by the Alliance's rules, which are pretty common sense. Don't attack a female in heat, don't attack other clans or intrude on territory, things of that nature.

But the wolves...they don't like to play by the rules. They think they're too good for that sort of thing. The Andersons are a tight knit pack on the outskirts of town, and they're always causing trouble. I'm not surprised that they're behind this.

My heart hammers when Buck shoves me forward again. "Get inside, girl."

They push and prod me blindly through a building. There's a wood floor under my feet now, and it creaks with every step. They push me up a set of stairs, and then they stop. I catch a faint whiff of musty odors and then my hands are tied behind my back with ropes. I hiss as they grab one of my feet, knocking me over. Instead of landing on the ground, though, I fall onto a creaky mattress. A spring jabs me in the side.

Then a hand grabs my hair and clamps a metal collar around my neck.

"There," Buck says, and I hear him dusting off his hands. "She can't get away now, even if she shifts. She'll have to twist her own neck off.”

I hear a door shut, and then things are quiet. Have they left me? I thrash on the bed, shaking my head to get the disgusting shirt off and it slides down enough that I can take a look around.

I'm in a room. Somewhere. Not sure where. I smell more mustiness and mold, and it smells like the woods. There's a broken window off to one side, and a corner of the ceiling is sagging in. The room is bare of everything but dust and the old bed I'm chained to. If this place is inhabited, the Andersons must have really low standards. I'm guessing this is a secret hideaway of some kind.

Which means I'm pretty fucked. The werewolves keep close-mouthed about their territory, and it’s not a place that my were-cougar clan would think to look for me if I go missing. The odds of me running away with my shitty ex-boyfriend are greater than me getting kidnapped, sadly.

This isn’t looking good for the home team.

I twist at my arms. The ropes are tied super tight, enough that my fingers are tingling. I won't be able to shift without snapping both my arms. The cuff on my neck is chokingly tight, and I practice flexing my neck-chords to see how much give it has. None. Ugh. I have no doubt that if I try to shift, it'll end up snapping my own neck, just like they said.

I'm stuck.

I chew on my lip, thinking. There has to be something I can do. I can't stay here. God, I'm going to go into heat in less than a week, and… if I do and I'm surrounded by Andersons? Redneck, tobacco-chewing Andersons?

I'll freaking shoot myself.

"What do you mean, 'you stole the Russell bitch'?" I echo Buck's words, sure that I haven't heard him right. My brother can't be that fucking dumb, can he?

But he looks over at Maynard and Levi, and then giggles maniacally. Wyatt, Owen, and Tony elbow each other on the broken-down couch like the Three Stooges. Nearby, my sister Gracie just rolls her eyes and goes back to painting her toenails in front of the broken-down fireplace. Our pack's a mess. Always has been, always will be as long as Uncle Levi's in charge.

Usually I feel more like the outsider than Uncle Levi's second in command - his beta. Today is definitely one of those days.

"You hard a'hearin, dumbass?" Maynard jokes. He comes over to me and pretends to knock on my head. 

I shove his hand away, baring my fangs in a snarl. "Fuck. Off."

"Ooo, we's so fancy now that we're all licensed to sell rich people houses and shit?" He mocks, and reaches for my hair to ruffle it like when I was a young, gangly boy. But fuck that shit. I'm twenty five and I'm tired of being treated like a child by older, more idiotic relatives.

"Go back to the girl," I say, swerving out of his grip. "What Russell girl?"

"The pretty one," Gracie says, not looking up. "With the long brown hair."

A sick feeling clenches my gut. "Savannah Russell?"

"There a lot of Russell girls we don't know about?" Buck asks.

"Where is she?" I demand, shrugging off my sport coat and tossing it onto the rickety table nearby. Oh, fuck. If these idiots have done what I think they've done, we are in so much fucking shit. The Russells are going to come after us with every other clan they've cleverly allied with and then we're gonna be roasted.

"There he goes again," Levi drawls, and I can hear the eye-roll in his words. "She's upstairs, boy. And you are not to release her. At all. Hear me?"

It's a command, and Levi's my alpha. I stop in place and give him a reluctant nod, my jaw clenched. I can't disobey a direct order from my alpha. My skin crawls at the thought, even though I'm furious that they've kidnapped someone. Especially this particular someone.

"Good," Uncle Levi says. "Don't rough her up. We're tradin' her for someone. Gotta keep her nice and pretty." He takes a swig of his beer.

Like I'd harm her. I give him another half nod and then race up the stairs, following the unfamiliar scent of cat-shifter that permeates the ramshackle house that the Anderson wolf pack uses as our meeting spot. It's a falling-down Victorian in the middle of nowhere, probably abandoned in the 1950s. There's no power, no water, and the roof's a joke, but it's private even if it's a dump. The dumpiness doesn't bother the pack, though. They like the secrecy of it.

I normally don't give a shit either way, but today, my nostrils flare when the sagging stairs creak and groan. This entire house is unsafe and she's on the second floor. Goddamn, I am surrounded by idiots.

I race up to the only room I can think of that has a bed. The door is cracked and I glance in--

There she is.

I stop in the hall, stunned by the sight of her. I’m in awe of the delicate oval of her sleeping face, her rounded form as she curls up on the bed, the long lashes sweeping over her eyes. The lithe curves of her body. The delicate hands that tug on the collar at her neck. The pool of brown hair that I dream of burying my face in. The soft skin. Hell, the very feline smell of her. I'm overwhelmed by possessive need.

I've been in love with Savannah Russell since I was in high school and I first laid eyes on her. She walked into study hall as a wide-eyed, frightened freshman transfer and I was a cocky senior who thought he was hot shit. Now, seven years later, she doesn't know I exist...

And my pack's kidnapped her. Jesus. I rake a hand through my carefully combed hair, not caring that I'm making a mess of myself. Savannah's here, and I'm the bad guy.

I have to do something. I have to fix this.

I push the door open and her eyes automatically flick to me. She wasn't asleep, then, but just pretending. I look around at the room. There's no food, no water, no blankets, no nothing. It's just Savannah, tied up and on her back on a filthy mattress that's probably older than I am. There's a chain and manacle on her slender neck, and her ballet slippers are dirty.

It's late at night and dark in here. Her eyes gleam, cat-like, in the low light, and I'm sure my own wolf-eyes are gleaming. Her nostrils flare and she takes in the sight of me, her shifter vision letting her see nearly as well as daylight.

"Go away," she growls. Her hands twist in the ties behind her back, and I catch a faint whiff of blood in the air.

Uncle Levi told me not to release her, but I can do something about her hands. “Here, let me help—”

She jerks on the mattress, flinging herself backward toward the wall. "Don't fucking touch me!"

"Hey Connor," Buck calls up the stairs. "Uncle Levi says don't rape her--"

Oh my fucking Christ. "I'm not going to goddamn rape her, you idiot!" I look back at Savannah, but now she's staring at me with horror and a little fear. "I'm not going to rape you," I say, putting my hands out to ease her. "I just wanted to ease the ties on your hands, all right?"

She stares at me, wild-eyed, and her breathing is raspy. She has to be terrified. Of course she is. She's just been kidnapped by the enemy. I extend my hands flat in what I hope is a calming gesture and slowly approach her. "It's okay, Savannah. I just want to help you."

A feline growl rumbles low in her throat, and she bares her teeth. I see her fangs coming in, and her fingers are claw tipped. She's ready to turn out of panic.

I take another cautious step or two forward and she tenses but doesn't fight. My hands move to her back, where the ropes are binding her hands together. Her hands are purpling and she flexes them every so often, trying to loosen the knots. I can see welts and swelling where the ropes are cutting into her flesh, and blood where her skin has been broken. A curse hisses out between my teeth. “Damn those stupid assholes."

There are days I put up with my pack, because we're werewolves and we're related. The bonds of blood draw us tightly together. And there are days where I barely tolerate the chuckleheads, because I'm not like the rest of the Andersons.

Then, there are days where I actively hate my pack. Today is one of those days.

I'm seething as I undo the knots on the rope. Thoughtless assholes. They did this deliberately while I was working late, because they knew I'd have something to say about it and--

The moment Savannah's arm is free, she attacks me.

I don't blame her. If I was in the same position, I'd do the same thing. But I'm also ready for her attack, and I've got leverage. Her arm swings for me and I bat it aside. She may be a were-cougar and strong, but I'm a werewolf male in my prime. I smack her arm down and when her other one raises up, claws flying, I knock her off balance and she lands flat on her back in the bed.

My hand automatically goes to her throat. Not to choke, but to pin. It's the alpha in me. I can't help it. I respond to a challenge by pinning. My hand flattens on the collar there and she smacks back onto the bed as if I struck her.

Her eyes go wide and her nostrils flare. Her back arches off the bed, and for a moment, it almost looks like...she's aroused. It's a sexual move, and for the first time, I notice her straining nipples against her t-shirt, the dilated pupils, and the fine sheen of sweat on her brow.

And then I smell her arousal. Faint but musky, and oh-so fucking delicious that I'm instantly hard.

I fling myself off of her and stagger backward. My body's automatically responding to hers, even though we're different breeds of shifter. I'm enough of a red-blooded male to recognize when a girl's about to go into heat.

I don't want to touch her against her will. I push back another foot or two until my back is to the wall. My cock's tenting in my trousers, erect from just that small touch, and as she sits up in bed and jerks at the tether on her neck, I can see she's breathing hard, too.

Her nipples poke against her shirt, twin beads just begging for my mouth. She gives the chain one more tug and then looks over at me, biting her lip. "Free me?"

A knot forms in my throat. I would, if it was my decision. I’d drop to my knees and beg her to let me touch her even as I undid the chains. I’d willingly be putty in Savannah’s gorgeous hands.

But Levi's authority hangs around my neck like a noose. I can't go against him. Everything in my being strains to buck the yoke of his reign, but i'm not strong enough. Not yet. "I can't."

"You mean you won't," she says bitterly.

"No, I mean I can't." I glance toward the door, where down the stairs, I can hear my cousins having a laughing conversation amidst themselves. They're having a great time, congratulating each other on the certain soon arrival of a new wolf female to add to the pack. Fuckers. I’m filled with helpless rage. Do they even know the kind of trouble Savannah is in? My guess is no. If they did, they'd make sure to leverage that information against the Russell cougars.

Or worse...they'd be taking advantage of Savannah. A female in heat has a hard time saying no, no matter the male. My fists clench at the thought of one of my brute cousins touching her again. "I'm going to go downstairs and have a talk with my family. You need anything?"

"Freedom?"

I ignore that. "Water? Food? A pillow?"
A hand with that heat you're having?
I squelch the thought as soon as it enters my heat. Savannah's the star of my wet dreams, but she's terrified and hates all wolves at the moment, and I can't blame her.

No, my fucking family's ruined me in her eyes. Not that a wolf would ever have a shot with the high and mighty Russell cougars, but a guy can dream. Now I can't even dream.

She just glares at me and leans back against the wall. "I want nothing from you. I want you to let me go."

"I'm not holding you."

Her dark eyes shoot daggers at me. "Aren't you?"

I fucking hate this. "I'm not like them."

She snorts. To her, I'm just like them. My anger builds. My fists clench. Uncle Levi's the one in charge of the Anderson pack, but because I'm pack - even though I have no say - I'm the enemy. She's right - I need to do something about this. I've been looking for an excuse to challenge my uncle. I don't like his ways. I've never liked them, but a lone wolf is powerless.