Mated to the Enemy Alpha

Story
1

Billionaire Werewolf Biker Brides Series

Emma
Alisyn

Mated to the Enemy Alpha

Copyright © January 2015 by Emma
Alisyn

Cover Design by Emma
Alisyn

A HOT SNIPPET:

“
You’re young,”
he said. “I can tell. You haven’t learned that you can’t fight a
mating. Our wolves won’t let us.”

Her hands tightened in
his hair, pulling his head up so she could see his face. “So we
fuck- and then what?”

He rose, bringing her
up with him. If Andraste harbored the illusion that he had gained
some measure of control and was about to let her go, the illusion
evaporated when he pulled her full length against him, his hard
erection evidence along with pale, burning eyes that he had no
intention on waiting.

“
I take you- and
when the mating heat clears, we think. We plan. And whatever secret
you are hiding from me, you will release.”

He turned her around
and walked her backwards towards his desk. The surface was already
clear- evidently he just used it as a place to prop his elbow when
talking.

“
I am no low
ranking wolf for you to mate without permission.”

“
I am Alpha. I am
Law. I do not ask permission to take what is mine.”

He pulled her head
back, lowering his head so his teeth could graze the side of her
neck. What was she saying? That last statement was too close to the
truth for safety. Andraste needed to think. She needed to think, to
get away-

“
Stop
it.”

His arm tightened
around her and in a quick move he lifted her onto the desk, pushing
her onto her back, her legs dangling over the sides.

“
What if I say
no?” she asked.

Blue eyes clashed with
brown. “You won’t.”

“
What if I say
no?”

He snarled, a low sound
of frustration. “Are you saying no?”

Andraste opened her
mouth and once again he claimed her lips in a kiss; this one
gentle, persuasive. A sweet seduction all the more insidious for
the illusion it gave that he would take no more than she was
willing to give. A pretty lie meant to gain her compliance.

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CHAPTER

Andraste’s wolves left the conference room
silently. They had their orders; two men would die tonight, and
then she'd get some sleep. She looked sixty eight stories down at
the night time city, the weight of each level on her shoulders.
Leaned her head against the sheet of glass in a moment of visible
weakness.

“
Do you mean to start a war?” her
father asked.

Andraste straightened, turning. She hadn't
realized he remained behind after the meeting. A dangerous mistake.
She assessed his mood, analyzing the man in the steel gray suit
leaning back in his seat, fingers steepled. Keen dark eyes studied
her.

“
That will be up to Rolf, won’t it?”
The bastard. “If he wants a war, I will give him a war.”

Father rose. “Is that wise, dear? Or are you
allowing emotion to rule you?”

She pressed a hand flat on the conference
table, willing the cool surface to seep into her blood, mute the
fury boiling in her veins.

“
You are Alpha. Do you want me to
ignore the insult? Allow his men to think they can walk into our
territory, violate one of our wolves and walk away
unscathed?”

He held her eyes until hers lowered. “I want
you to be prepared for the fallout of ordering a public
execution.”

Andraste remained still as her father left
the room, then tapped the unit at her wrist. Her best friend’s face
appeared in the tiny monitor

“
What’s up, Ande?”

“
I need to go out tonight. Meet me at
eight.”

***

“
Got a problem,” the laconic drawl of
his Beta’s voice stated without preamble when Rolf pressed the
accept button.

Rolf snorted. Yeah? “So what’s new?”

The Alpha took a swig of beer, tapping a few
keys on his Mac, and shut the lid. It looked incongruous; a thin,
prissy looking bit of silver lying on the rough workbench next to
his tools, the seat he was restoring for his 1970 Kawasaki BigHorn,
and his leather club jacket, emblazoned with the words Dalig Hund.
Like a kids game, which one of these things doesn’t belong with the
others.

Running his pack nowadays took more finesse
than it had in the fifties when he’d first taken over. He shifted
his cell on his ear, holding it with his shoulder to keep his hands
free. Didn’t trust those blue tooth sets. Probably caused brain
cancer. Three hours after putting one in his ear the first time,
his eardrum was full of water. He had tossed the thing off the
bridge.

“
Andraste ordered a hit.”

“
That bitch.” Rolf cursed, rising,
expression grim. “Call Dagen and Thom. Have them handle
it.”

“
Thing is, boss…”

“
Spit it out.”

“
This might get nasty. Can’t say as
those she wants taken out don’t have it coming.”

Which made the whole fucking debacle even
more of a godscursed aggravation. Though he would never admit to
the pack those losers were a thorn in his side- the right to punish
them belonged to him alone. No rival pack, especially not the
Lykaon, would escape challenging his authority by executing his
wolves, unscathed. There was enough bad blood between him and the
Lykaon Alpha that a resolvable issue could blow up into a full
scale pack war at any moment. What the fuck was Andraste thinking?
She wasn’t. Damn woman. Well, if she wanted a war, he would damn
well give her a war.

“
She doesn’t come into my territory
hunting my wolves.”

“
Only one way to end this. Gotta cut
the head off the snake.”

Rolf paused. A hit on Macario… “I can’t
justify taking out a pack Alpha because-”

“
Not the Alpha. The Beta. Andraste.
She’s the one sending out the soldiers. Old man has all but retired
from running his pack. Just deals with the business side of things
now.”

It didn’t sit well with him, killing a
woman, even if she was a Beta and as savage a fighter as any of her
soldiers. He might have to swallow his distaste. He’d managed a
wary stalemate for a decade with the Father, but as soon as the
daughter won the title of Beta, small grudges he’d thought buried
resurfaced. The woman doubled patrols of her territory, responded
to provocations her father used to let go, and in general
overreacted every damn time one of his wolves crossed the line.
Time was, a trespassing wolf would be sent back to him with a pithy
note to deal with it, or else. Not any more. Andraste had an ax to
grind, and plenty of blood thirst to whet it.

“
I’ll do it,” he said. “If it has to
be done, I’ll be the one.”

***

“
Where are we going?” Cora asked.
She’d pulled her ropy blonde hair into a waist length tail, clingy
white tank revealing teal and pink tattoos covering her toned
arms.

Andraste’s nails tapped on the wheel as she
stared out the windshield, frowning.

“
You know what? I’m calling off the
soldiers. I’ll take care of the hit myself.”

“
Shit, Ande. That means going into
Dalig Hund territory. If any of the pack get a whiff you’re
there…”

“
I’ll just have to be sure they don’t
make me.”

She looked into her rear view mirror, called
on a trickle of power and began the slow, painful process of
altering her features. The brown hair would have to stay, but she
softened bones and widened her eyes, adding roundness to her
jaw.

“
There.”

Cora shook her head. “You think that will
work? You’re the only female Beta in the State. A false face won't
do anything but tell them you’re up to no good.”

Andraste revved the engine. “I am up to no
good. I can fool them long enough to draw those two rapists out.
Quick kill, then get the hell out. I look downright innocent right
now. You in?”

Cora sighed. “Your dad would kill me if I
let you go in alone. Come on. Let’s get this shit over.”

***

“
Whoa. Look what just walked in. Don’t
get pussy that pretty too often.”

Rolf turned his head at his Beta’s words,
eyes narrowing as two women walked in, a blonde who looked like she
could handle a good time, and a brunette chess club captain. He
snorted. He doubted that one was even twenty one. She looked around
the dim bar with wide eyes, clutching the arm of her taller, tenser
friend.

“
Either of them someone’s new girl?”
he asked.

Rolf never bothered to keep track of the
newest toy his members played with for a few weeks then put back on
the shelf. Women who thought it a walk on the wild side to date a
shifter in a biker club. Pack women stayed away from the bar- a
fight over one of them would be to the death. But human women- no
one would do anything more than throw a few punches, mostly for
show and to let off some harmless steam. Though it sure looked
convincing to the humans.

“
Don't recognize either one,” Cam
said, hazel eyes sparkling. “Maybe came looking to get picked up.
If the blonde looks at me, she’s mine.”

Yeah, Cam always liked the ones with an
edge. “Whatever, bro.”

The women approached the bar and slid onto
stools, the brunette scrutinizing the surface of hers before she
sat her dainty ass down. Rolf observed by their body language they
knew every eye was on them. They ordered drinks, the blonde stiff
and tense, the brunette looking around like she was in a cupcake
shop, and there were too many flavors to pick from. Stupid.

The brunette glanced his way, dark eyes
locking with his. He froze, and she looked away. He’d thought he’d
seen a flash behind the vapid expression- a flash that contradicted
the image she presented as prey. But, no. Just the dim light.

Still, he kept an eye on them as one of his
lower ranked wolves, a spiffy faced bastard with slick magazine
styled hair approached them. Rolf’s interest perked when the
brunette said a few pithy words, sent him packing. He straightened
in his seat. Not her type, huh? Might not be as soft as she looked.
Took some balls to walk into a place like this, especially for the
first time.

When their drinks came and she took a sip of
the pink thing his bartender sat in front of her- with a notable
lack of enthusiasm- he saw the tiniest wince. Watched as her French
manicured hand darted out, snatched her friend’s shot of whiskey
and downed it with the panache of a hard core imbiber.

Rolf’s eyes narrowed. When she turned away
the second- polite for a biker, or a wolf- request for company,
Rolf started to think something was up. This wasn’t a place chicks
came just to hang out and girl talk.

He stood up, crossed the distance to that
side of the bar, and sat down next to her. She looked up at him and
he sensed a flare of- something, quickly suppressed. He leaned in,
inhaling her scent, and frowned. Nostrils flared, inhaling…
nothing. Almost as if-

“
Can I get you a drink, big guy?” she
asked.

Rolf blinked, taken aback. He leaned his arm
on the bar, nodded at her fizzy pink thingy. He hadn’t even known
they owned those types of glasses.

“
What you drinking, pretty
bit?”

She took another dainty sip, swished the
straw around in the liquid, and pushed it towards him.

“
I said something pink and fruity,”
she replied. “This is what the bartender gave me.”