Bound to the Alpha: Part Two

C
opyright
© 2014 by Viola Rivard

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M
ine
.

He had obliterated her, and there was no going back. Every time his claws pieced her flesh, every time his teeth punctured her neck, and every time he thrust into her with wild abandon, Cain had branded her. Beneath him—and he wouldn’t have it any other way—she became something else, something inhuman.

He had destroyed her, and she had loved every second of it, had begged him for more. It was as if she had been hollow, not just that day, but her entire life. She had climaxed with him each time, and each time she experienced a fleeting feeling of complete and utter fulfillment. It never lasted, though. Like a junkie, she would crash just minutes later, hollow once more and needing him again. And he was always ready for her.

For a long time, she stared up at the ceiling. There was a small fire, mostly hot embers, but the light reflected off the ceiling, making it shimmer. She thought it looked a lot like the glittering wall where they had first…what?
Had sex?
Too clinical.
Made love?
Too intimate.
Fucked?
Too dispassionate.
Mated…
Now that was a word with potential. What they had done was primitive and primal. He had taken her like an animal—like a crazed wolf in the body of a man—and now all she could do was stare up at the ceiling in a daze.

Mine.

For however long they had been there, it had seemed to be the only thing he could say. She could remember him gripping her breasts, making them look almost small in his big hands.
Mine
, he would tell her. During the brief interludes between their mating, he would nuzzle her, murmuring the word into her neck.
Mine.
Each time he came, he would slam himself into her, gripping her hips with a thrilling ferocity before growling out the word.
Mine.

It was as if he thought that if he said the word over and over again, she would start to believe it.

And she had.

Slowly, the fog lifted from her mind. The smells of roasting meat and old sweat clashed, making her both hungry and nauseated. She lifted herself up with a small groan. Her body was a mess. She felt worse than she had after the car accident that had very nearly killed her four days ago.

Had it been four days? She pressed a hand to her forehead, this time letting out a much longer groan. If her body was a mess, her mind was totally wrecked. She had no idea how long she’d been there—wherever
there
even was.

She had vague memories of Cain bringing her to the small cavern, shortly after the second or third time they’d mated out on the ground. She wasn’t sure what had happened after that. She remembered a lot of mating, broken by the occasional nap. Cain brought her food and water a few times, and she had the gut-churning suspicion that at some point he’d given her raw meat, and she had liked it.

“What were you thinking?” The scratchy, whiney voice sounded nothing like her own, but she was the only one in the room, so it had to have come from her. It was the first time she’d woken up alone, and she took it as a sign that Cain had also come to his senses.

Shivering, she scooted over and picked up one of the furs from the makeshift pallet she’d been resting on, pulling it over her shoulders. It didn’t smell the greatest, but it was warm and beneath the musk of sex, she could detect a hint of Cain’s woodsy scent.

Looking around the small cavern, she noted with a measure of relief that the duffle bag lay against the far wall. It said wonders about her self-esteem that she thought Cain would just leave her in the middle of the wilderness after everything that had happened.

He must have been gone for a little while because the meat had been burned on one side. She ate it anyway, chewing and swallowing, but not tasting. After a few more minutes of wallowing in self-loathing, she decided to get dressed. Finding her pants first, she slowly worked her legs into them, cringing at the pain between her thighs.

Just as she was buttoning her pants, she heard the sound of booted feet. Her hand instinctively moved to cover her breasts as she turned, giving him what she hoped was a smile, though her face wasn’t really cooperating.

Cain was wearing only his jeans, and she predicted that he probably looked a thousand times better than she did. He resonated with a vibrant energy, the space around him charged by his presence. Just seeing his large, powerful form invigorated her, and his strong muscles did something else entirely to her.

“Sarah.”

She hadn’t realized that she was gaping at him until he said her name. Her eyes widened, and she looked up to meet his gaze. It was hard to tell without her glasses, but she thought she registered a flicker of uncertainty in his golden orbs. Before she had time to contemplate it, Cain cleared the distance between them. He pulled her arms away from her chest, holding them out to the side as if in reprimand.

“Never hide your body from me,” he said, his stern tone softened by his gentle face.

She wanted to point out that ‘never’ implied that there was something long-term between them, but she couldn’t bring herself to broach the subject. What they had done had been mind-blowing, but beyond the sex, or mating, or whatever she was calling it, they were still headed down two entirely different paths. He was an alpha wolf who had to return to his pack, and she was…

Her train of thought veered off-course as Cain looped his arms around her waist, pulling her against his body. As she let him hold her, Sarah wondered if maybe she had died in that car accident after all. Maybe she’d died and gone to heaven—her own personal heaven, where an incredibly gorgeous man would not only look twice at her, but would actually seem genuinely attracted to her for some bizarre reason.

She wasn’t necessarily insecure. With guys that were like her, myopic and a little on the heavy side, she felt like a beauty queen. Unfortunately, she always seemed to fall for men who looked like they had just stepped down from a cloud to walk amongst mortals for amusement. But every man she’d ever been attracted to paled in comparison to Cain. She knew, with a certain degree of sadness, that he’d set an impossible standard for any human man she tried to have a relationship with in the future.

Cain’s big hands came up to massage her shoulder blades, making her go lax in his hold. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Sore.” Moving of its own accord, her hand came up to his chest, one errant finger tracing the flat plane around his nipple. It stiffened under her touch.

“If you keep doing that, we’re never leaving this place,” he warned.

She propped her chin on his chest, looking up at him. “How long have we been here?”

Sarah had expected things to be awkward between them, but if anything they seemed to be more comfortable than ever together, which made things all the more complicated. It would have been so much easier if he’d given her the cold shoulder. Sure, it would have hurt, but it was a type of hurt that she was familiar with. But this—holding her, massaging her, asking her how she was feeling, either he really did care about her or he was a sadist the likes of which she’d never encountered before.

“I have no idea,” he said, giving her a sheepish grin. “Several days.”

“That…” She trailed off, looking away as she considered how to phrase her next words. “Is that normal for werewolves?”

When she glanced back at him, his jaw had tightened. “It can be.”

She took a step back, and he loosened his grip. “I’m sorry. I really don’t know what came over me. I’ve never done anything like that before.”

That was an understatement. The first time they’d had sex was technically the third time she’d ever had sex. In her opinion, it was the second, because her comically terrible first time had lasted all of two minutes, which she’d decided couldn’t possibly count. But frankly, she would sooner throw herself back into the river than admit any of this to Cain.

Some of the humor returning to his expression, Cain leaned down and picked up his t-shirt from the floor, offering it to her. “Your other clothes are gone.”

“Even my bra?” she asked, accepting the shirt glumly.

He nodded, and his amusement was infectious. She struggled to suppress a grin as she put on the well-worn shirt. There were several stains and tears in the fabric, but it smelled like him, and she was secretly happy to wear it.

“I will meet you outside,” Cain said as she began clawing the tangles from her hair. He grabbed the duffle bag and headed out.

“Be right there,” she called out to his back.

Pausing, she watched him leave, a flurry of emotions whipping around her.

Mine.

Sometimes men said things during sex that they didn’t mean. But what if he
had
meant it? Could she really walk away from him now, or was she just deluding herself?

A
lot
of the snow had melted along the eastern mountainside, making the rocky path slick with ice. Sarah would never have trusted herself to navigate the perilous trail, but Cain’s movements were so effortless that she couldn’t be afraid as she rode on his back.

For a little while she tried to look around and take in the beauty of the winter wilderness. Everything blurred together, and her efforts to try and sort everything out led to a splitting headache. She added horrible eyesight to her list of reasons why she needed to go home.

After jumping over a narrow stream, Cain lowered his nose to the ground and began to sniff. His pace slowed a little, but his steps became more purposeful as he changed course, leaving the trail to go deeper into the forest. Sarah’s pulse quickened as she realized that they must be close to his den.

Selfishly, she’d hoped that they would have another day together before he rejoined his pack. There was still so much to sort out between them, and his pack was still a wild card in the whole equation. Her departure aside, she wasn’t sure how his pack would respond to her, and worse, she worried that Cain would treat her differently when they arrived.

Cain let out a powerful bark, the unexpected sound startling Sarah. She gripped his fur as the bark echoed into the woods. After a brief delay, he was answered by another bark, this one high-pitched. It was far-off, but at the sound, Cain picked up his pace, surging forward eagerly.

Through the rows of thin spruce trees, a dark smudge appeared, rocketing towards Cain. Sarah watched as it took shape into a wolf, smaller than Cain but still larger than any canine she’d ever seen. As it neared them, its shape began to change, and Sarah had to blink several times before she realized that it was shifting. With a fluidity that could only be the result of years of practice, the wolf transformed mid-stride, rearing up onto two legs to take the shape of a tall woman.

Cain stopped, and the woman ground to a halt just a few paces from him. Up close, Sarah could see that she wasn’t quite a woman. She was tall, but her limbs were thin and gangly. Messy brown hair fell over her shoulders, just barely obscuring her high breasts. Freckles were scattered over a face that was a little too angular to be called cute, but her bright eyes and cheeky grin made her endearing nonetheless.

Anticipating that he would want to shift, Sarah climbed off of the giant wolf, carefully stepping onto a small patch of earth that wasn’t covered in snow. As Cain began to shift, the girl pranced over to Sarah.

“Wow, look at you,” the girl said, her green eyes brimming with excitement. Despite her confusion, Sarah found herself smiling back.

“Hi,” she replied, holding out her hand.

The girl sidestepped Sarah’s hand and pulled her into a suffocating embrace, made all the more weird by the fact that she wasn’t wearing any clothes. Pulling back, she said, “I’m Clover. I’m sure my brother has told you all about me.”

Sarah blinked at her. It took her a few seconds to realize that the girl was referring to Cain. It was surprising that they were related, because aside from their russet hair color, they looked nothing alike.

“Um, a little,” Sarah said, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

Clover turned back to scowl at Cain, who was rubbing the reformed muscles around his shoulder blades. Sounding scandalized, she said, “You didn’t tell her about me?”

Cain gave her a dry look. “Hello to you too, Clover.”

Looking back to Sarah, she said, “I was going to be angry at him for being so late, but now that I see he’s brought a girl home—”

Cain placed a hand on Clover’s head, turning it to face him. “Where are your brothers?”

She pursed her lips, but answered obediently. “Hale disappeared a few days ago. I think he smelled a female or something. Alder went looking for him last night, but he hasn’t come back yet.”

Sarah could see a vein pulse in Cain’s neck as he processed this information. “And the others?”

“Mostly sleeping,” Clover replied. Her expression soured. “Except for Meadow—she’s pretending to be asleep so she doesn’t have to go chasing after Caim.”

His eyes narrowed. “Where is Caim?”

Clover shrugged. “He snuck off not long after Alder left. Don’t worry, Fern followed him.”

Cain ran a hand through his hair, not seeming the least bit reassured. Sarah stood on the outside looking in, wanting to ease his distress, but not knowing how. She didn’t know who any of these people were, or why their being gone bothered Cain so much. Unable to do anything else, she placed a hand on his back, drawing his attention.

She asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

He nodded, and she thought he looked appreciative. To Clover, he said, “This is Sarah.” He bent down to pick up the duffle bag, handing it to his sister. “Take her to Snow. She’s a doctor.”

Sarah almost corrected him, but her ego was too inflated by the awestruck look on Clover’s face. In truth, there had been a time where Sarah had considered going to medical school, but becoming a doctor had seemed too fanciful for her tastes. Nursing school was the safe, practical choice.

Cain moved to pull away from her, but Sarah caught his arm. Their eyes met, only for her to realize that she had no idea why she’d stopped him.

“Um…” she said awkwardly, releasing his arm.

Cain reached out, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand. “I’ll be back soon.”

Sarah watched him leave, as man shifted into wolf before vanishing into the forest. A vague anxiety still clawed at her, but she didn’t have time to contemplate it. The moment Cain was gone, Clover went in for the kill.

“So tell me,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “Who exactly are you, and why do you smell like my brother?”

I
t only took
Cain a few minutes to pick up traces of Fern’s scent. He followed it until he found her tracks, large pawprints evenly paced alongside a much smaller set. His son would not have knowingly let Fern follow him, but Cain could tell by the strength of their scents that she hadn’t been far behind him, which put his mind at ease.

It was not the first time Cain had been away for an extended period of time. He frequently made trips to Elkins, a city just large enough for him to slip in and out undetected. He stayed long enough to restock their medical supplies, generally no more than a single night. The entire trip took just over a week, though Cain suspected that this time he had been gone at least two.

Usually, Cain kept a hard pace and stopped only once to rest on the trip back. But with Sarah in tow, he had not been able to travel so quickly. Not only had she been much slower than he, but she had needed to sleep each day. She was a resilient female, and he probably could have urged her on, had he not been so selfish. Accommodating her need to rest had little to do with being magnanimous and everything to do with the fact that he had wanted to lie beside her and to feel her soft, fleshy body pressed up against his.

From the first night he had lain beside her in his human form, stiff and aching, Cain had known that he would have Sarah. When she had rejected him, it had only made him want her more, and before long his goal of returning home had taken second place to figuring out how to undermine her resistances. Had he simply pressed on and ignored his baser urges, they would have made it to Greystone before she became fertile. Then, he could be contemplating any one of the major conflicts facing his pack—the soldiers, Snow’s illness, or even his wayward brothers—but instead, all he could think of was how he was going to handle things with Sarah.

Earlier that morning, Cain had returned to the den filled with purpose. When Sarah had asked if what they had done was normal, Cain was given the perfect opportunity to tell her everything. He should have told her about the mating thrall, how much power her fertile scent had over males of his species, power that had only been amplified by the fact that the scent of their previous coupling still clung to her. He should have explained to her that she could be carrying his pup, and that she would have to stay with his pack, at least until they knew for certain.

He would like to think it was consideration, rather than cowardice, that had led him to procrastinate. She had seemed so anxious and unsure of herself, and he had thought that perhaps once she was within the safety of his pack, where she could have a filling meal and a few hours of unbroken sleep, they could discuss the issue without her becoming too emotional.

Cain had no idea what her reaction would be, despite the fact that he had spent more time contemplating it than he had his own feelings towards the matter. Rather than drive himself crazy, he decided it would be best to consider those if and when they became relevant.

Predictably, the trail led up a steep slope. Cain threaded through trees, slowing down as the scents of Fern and Caim grew stronger.

Fern came into view first. Her back was to him as she sat on the fat branch of a tall oak, absently swinging her feet. Her long, black hair tossed in the wind as she tilted her head back and brought a finger to her lips.

Quietly approaching, Cain sat beneath the oak, not needing her to tell him where his son was. The trees were thin ahead, and the wind carried Caim’s scent from the distant bluff where he sat, overlooking the narrow valley below.

Caim was his only son, his namesake. Like most pups his age, Caim disliked taking his human form. The shift could be painful in their early years, and even those who mastered the shift early often felt vulnerable in their frailer human bodies. It was a measure of their security, how soon pups began to frequent their human form. The fact that Caim never left his wolf form was a constant reminder to Cain that he was failing as a father.

He sat in silence with Fern, taking equal parts of comfort and sadness in watching his son. While he was traveling with Sarah, he had been far too eager to cast aside his responsibilities for the sake of chasing a female.

His pack deserved better, and above all, Caim deserved better.