Alpha's Prize: A Werewolf Romance (Bad Boy Alphas Book 3) Read online

  I snake an arm around her waist to hold her in place and spank her lush ass, my hand falling fast and hard. My other hand slides down her belly to cup her mons. She’s dripping wet. I press one finger into her wet heat, use it to spread moisture up to her clit. She closes her fingers over mine, rocks down for more attention down there.

  I suck my breath in over my teeth and stop spanking, squeezing and massaging her heated curves as I stroke her wet pussy. “Turn around.” My voice is three octaves lower than usual, more beast than man.

  She turns and I shake the towel off my waist. When she slides a leg up around my waist, I scoop my forearm under her ass, lifting her to meet my throbbing member.

  And then I’m in her. Exactly where I’ve wanted to be all day. Where I needed to be last night, and the night before.

  I thrust in and up, pushing her shoulders against the wall, but holding her hips out to meet mine. She’s a disheveled goddess, dress tangled up around her waist, hair sprawled out on the wall. I fuck her hard and deep, relentless.

  “I wanted to give it to you slow tonight, baby. Take my time with you. But no, you had to wear that dress,” I growl as I bang into her.

  She clutches my shoulders, nails scoring my flesh, marking me as I’ve marked her. “Carlos,” she chokes. The desperation is there already, she needs to come.

  Good thing, because longevity isn’t in the cards for me at the moment.

  “Take it,” I growl. “Take it deep, muñeca. You asked for this.”

  As usual, my female is excited by my dirty talk. She shatters, inner thighs squeezing my waist, pussy clenching and releasing as her last cry hangs, seemingly suspended in the air between us because she’s stopped breathing.

  I slam into her three more times and plunge deep for my finish.

  Sedona’s chest moves again, and she slides her hands around, digs her nails deep into my back, closes her eyes.

  I claim her mouth, slanting my lips over hers, licking and sucking until I stop coming. Then I freeze. “I forgot a condom again.” I’d worn one last night, but the night before, when I sleep-fucked her, I hadn’t worn one, and now I did it again. As horrible as it sounds, I subconsciously must want her to get pregnant, to bind her to me.

  “It’s okay.” She tucks her face into my neck, still recovering her breath. “You can’t get me pregnant.”

  Relief pours through me. Well, mostly relief. Maybe with ten percent disappointment. She must be on the pill. Strange, but I hadn’t smelled it the way I can smell it on a human female.

  Her stomach rumbles.

  “Baby, you’re hungry,” I chide. I ease out of her and lower her feet to the floor. “Let’s go get some dinner.”

  She stands still and I look up from where I’d bent to pick up my towel.

  “Sedona. Fuck.” I stalk back to her, wrapping the towel around my waist. “Did I hurt you? I was way too rough. I’m sorry, ángel.”

  She reaches for me, which nearly floors me with relief. Wraps her arms around my neck and lets me hold her. “I like it when you’re rough,” she murmurs against my ear. Her body is trembling, though, and I feel like the biggest ass for fucking her and then dropping her to the floor while I wipe off my dick.

  I hold her, stroking her back, burying my face in her thick glossy hair. I’m replaying the scene, trying to figure out if something went wrong, or if she just needs a moment of aftercare when she says, “You owe me a pair of panties, though.”

  I bark a laugh.

  “And I’m still wearing this dress out.”

  I groan. “Okay, muñeca, wear the dress. But you’ll be held responsible for all the men whose faces meet my knuckles when they ogle you.”

  She lets go of me and I reluctantly step back. “You’ll behave.” She sounds like she believes it, which makes me vow to meet her expectations. Even if it fucking kills me.

  ~.~

  Sedona

  I didn’t lie. Not exactly.

  He can’t get me pregnant because I already am.

  My insides swim around with the misdirection and all the issues I’ve avoided examining come slamming back into me.

  It won’t be long before he scents the change in hormones on me. Before my body starts to change to accommodate the new life within me. Our pup.

  What will it mean to him?

  I don’t even know what it means to me.

  Fates, this entire trip to Europe wasn’t to heal, it was a last ditch effort to spread my wings before I’m saddled with a child. I’ve been pretending that child doesn’t exist, pretending none of my problems exist while I get my rah-rahs out seeing famous art and getting sexed against the wall by a libidinous werewolf.

  But I’m going to have to face the music soon. Either I lose Carlos soon and try to keep this pregnancy from him or we stick together and he’ll find out on his own in the next week or two.

  Then what?

  If he’s already gone overboard to protect me on this trip, what do I think he’ll do when he knows I’m carrying his pup? Do I really believe he’ll ever leave my side?

  What did Garrett say? It would take an entire pack to keep him away.

  I slip on a new pair of panties and smooth the skirt of the dress back down as Carlos gets dressed.

  He’s looking over at me like he knows something’s going on in my head and it worries him. He pays attention, I’ll give him that. Moments like these I wish he’d pay a little less attention.

  No, that’s not true.

  Carlos escorts me out and we walk down to Las Ramblas again and find an open-air restaurant where we can watch all the activity on the tree-lined street.

  I’m sore and used in all the right places, but I know it will fade within the next hour, so I savor every twinge and pulse.

  Carlos orders a bottle of wine after consulting me on my preferences. When it comes, I take a sip, but even if I’d wanted to drink alcohol, I can’t. My body totally refuses it. I can barely choke down one sip.

  After we order our food, Carlos asks, “What’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours, Sedona? You’re too quiet.”

  I shake my head. “Nothing. Just trying not to think about what comes next with us.”

  His expression turns grave. He stares a hole through me and I can’t breathe. “Now I’m trying not to ask you what you’re trying not to think about.”

  I give a short laugh, grateful for his ability to be so real with me. For it to be this easy to talk about something so hard.

  The waiter brings our food and I tuck in, devouring my meal like I haven’t eaten in a week. I hope this isn’t the start of pregnancy cravings, because I don’t want to spend the next nine months eating everything in sight.

  Ugh. And now I’m thinking about the pregnancy again. Not that I ever stopped.

  I look out onto the pedestrian thoroughfare at a pair of musicians who just started up and Carlos follows my line of sight. He chokes on his wine and I look over, amused.

  “Everything okay over there?”

  He dabs his lips with his napkin. “Yes. I’m going to use the restroom, muñeca. I’ll be back in just a moment.”

  It takes about thirty seconds for it to sink into my brain that he didn’t head in the direction of the restrooms, he headed toward the exit.

  My instincts roar to life, hairs standing up at the back of my neck, vision tunneling like I need to shift and run. But what is the danger? I look around, and catch sight of Carlos out on La Rambla, talking with…

  Oh fuck no.

  It’s one of the council members. I’d remember that old son-of-a-bitch anywhere. He’s one of the two males who met the traffickers at the gate.

  I throw some Euros on the table and get up, marching out of the restaurant. I’m so focused on Carlos and the council member, I don’t see a group of young men coming until they bump into me. Something pricks my arm and I nearly lose my balance, but one of them catches me. They are laughing and talking in Spanish—no, not Spanish—Catalan, the first language in Barcelon
a. One of them holds my elbow and says something friendly to me, but I shake them off, still barreling toward Carlos.

  When I go to wipe away the stinging on my arm, my hand comes away bloody.

  It’s nothing, but it adds fuel to my fury and sense of violation. A fury which Carlos is about to get the full brunt of.

  ~.~

  Carlos

  Don Santiago is here in Barcelona.

  I’m ready to pound him into the ground. I don’t know what his game is, but I intend to find out. Now.

  If we weren’t in a public place, I would already have his throat in my hand.

  “Relax, mijo—Don Carlos—I’m not spying on you, as you say. I had business to attend to here and I thought it would be a good time for a visit.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Don Santiago hasn’t wiped his indulgently amused expression off his face yet and I’m about ready to do so with my fist. “Bueno. You’re right. The council has a stake in how you’re doing here with your female. I came to see if I could be of service.”

  “Of service?” It takes all my effort not to shout the words. “What, are you going to send a mango and wine to our hotel room? Help get us in the mood?”

  Don Santiago folds his arms over his chest. “Do I need to?”

  I clench my fists so hard my nails dig into my palms.

  “Is she pregnant yet?”

  Don Santiago looks over my shoulder at the same moment I catch Sedona’s scent.

  Carajo!

  I whirl, but it’s too late. She heard.

  Her face is pale as snow, but fury blazes in her eyes.

  “Sedona—this isn’t what you think.”

  She’s already turned away from me, walking with purposeful strides in the direction of our hotel.

  “Sedona—wait! Let me explain.” I chase after her. I stop myself just before I reach for her, because I’m sure she will deck me if I lay a hand on her. I opt for matching her stride, instead. “I don’t know why he’s here. I didn’t know he was coming. Listen to me.”

  “No.” She stops and throws a hand out against my chest, halting me, too. “I don’t have to listen to you. In fact, I can’t. I won’t. I heard what he wants. Whether you claim to be innocent in your council’s dirty little plan or not, you’re a part of it. And that means I’m out.” She starts walking again.

  “Fuck!” I can’t help cursing out loud before I pick up my pace beside her. “That’s not what—”

  Except it is. She nailed it. I can’t argue with her take on what’s going down.

  “Sedona, I’m not here to get you pregnant. I don’t see you as a prize. I came because I couldn’t stay away. I wanted to honor your request for space, but… I just couldn’t.”

  “Well you’re going to have to,” she snaps. “Because I’m done.”

  She’s done with me.

  Her words drive a spike straight through my gut.

  I slow my steps, let her advance without me. I’m not going to convince her to be with me by continuing to disrespect her wishes.

  She doesn’t even glance back, still marching on toward the hotel. My chest feels like it’s been crushed by a hundred pound weight. I sag against the side of a building, hardly able to drag breath into my lungs.

  She’s right. Our problems are insurmountable. She’ll never be able to forget what the council did to her and I am part of that horror. How could I even have hoped to bring her back with me?

  The idea is ludicrous. It would only ruin her, like Monte Lobo ruined my mother. All her light would go out, she’d die a little more every day until she was either crazy, like my mother, or nothing but a shell.

  Maybe if I had another plan to offer her. A different pack, another option. Maybe if I was willing to leave my pack, live with hers. But I can’t abandon mine. My absence is part of the reason everything’s fucked there. The pack needs me.

  No, if I care about Sedona—truly care—and I do, then the only right thing is let her walk away.

  Even if it means my chest caves in from the weight on it.

  ~.~

  Sedona

  I sense the second Carlos drops back and lets me go.

  I know I should consider it a gift, but it wounds me as much as his deception. I march forward toward the hotel, refusing to look back. I don’t want to see his expression. Don’t want to think about what he’s feeling now.

  Is she pregnant yet?

  I can’t fucking believe his council is here monitoring us still. Have they been watching everything? Our meeting in Tucson? Paris? I hate them. I really do. I hate them with a bitterness that runs so deep I might drown in it.

  But no. This anger is the other side of the coin to being a victim. Which I’d decided not to be.

  They don’t control me. They’re not going to shape my life or my future. They’re especially not going to shape my pup’s future.

  I run up to our hotel room and throw my things in my suitcase. I’m going home. Maybe I’m running scared. Yeah, I am running scared. But I have more than my own safety to consider. I have the safety of my baby.

  And seeing that council member here shook me up. Badly. Every hair on my arms stands up as I replay the scene. He was watching us.

  I may have thought I escaped when I left Mexico, but I didn’t. They’re still here with me.

  And they still believe I’m their breeder.

  Tears blur my vision as I grab my suitcase and head out of the hotel room. I half expect Carlos to be standing outside the room, or downstairs in the lobby, or on the sidewalk outside the hotel, but he’s not. No one stops me when I hail a cab and ask for the airport.

  I know there’s a chance I won’t find any flights out at this time of night, but I don’t give a crap. Every cell in my body screams for me to get out of here, fast. I need to get back to my family. To my pack, who will protect me.

  Carlos can’t be trusted. I don’t even know if I can believe anything he said, anything that happened between us. It could have all been a fabrication to get me pregnant.

  I’m glad now I didn’t tell him.

  There’s a chance he’s just as evil as his council.

  That thought hurts worse than any other. To believe Carlos duped me or played me, that he never cared, leaves me clutching my chest to rid the searing pain.

  I want to believe his feelings were real. But it’s not enough. He may have a biological need to be near me and protect me because he’s marked me, but it doesn’t mean he loves me. It doesn’t mean we’re well-suited as mates.

  I was vulnerable and I read too much into his attention but I need to harden myself now.

  For my pup’s sake.

  ~.~

  Council Elder

  I snap open the tiny vial of blood and inhale deeply.

  Good. The American is pregnant. I had a few humans bump into her and get a blood sample. It isn’t enough for a lab test, but I can tell by the scent.

  Carlos is no longer needed. If he gives us any more trouble, we’ll kill him off faster than he can whine don’t call me mijo.

  And now I have his female’s DNA too. Perfect for my gene manipulation tests. Soon I’ll have harvested samples from every specimen of shifter on Earth. Enough to build a comprehensive DNA workup and determine the factors that improve or limit the ability to shift, to heal, to reproduce.

  What happened in my pack will never have to happen again, because I’ll be able to manipulate genes to create super-wolves, splicing in not only the best traits from werewolves, but also from other shifters.

  I walk through the warehouse with a clipboard and match each species with their blood sample data. A tiger throws itself against the metal bars, snarling at me as I stand in front of him.

  “This one is beautiful. Where did you find him?” I ask Aleix.

  “Bought him from an Iranian, but he comes from Turkey.”

  “A Caspian tiger? Very rare find. The animal counterpart is extinct. Good work. I’ll pay a hefty bonus for this one.”


  “I’m counting on it.” Aleix folds his arms across his chest. He wants me to pay up now. I’ve made him and his brother Ferran extremely wealthy over the past ten years. They don’t participate in any of the hunting of shifters—only the purchasing and storage, the blood draws and lab workups. Aleix is the businessman, Ferran is the bioscientist.

  They wouldn’t be in for any of this, except I’ve promised to cure their sister of the genetic disease causing her to slowly waste away. The truth is, I could’ve cured her years ago, but I know as soon as I do, Aleix and Ferran will fold and they’re too valuable to me. Better to keep them working, seeking answers.

  The Harvester needs his henchmen.

  Chapter Twelve

  Carlos

  Thirty-five hours since Sedona left me.

  Every minute, every hour, feels like an eternity. Every breath takes effort to pull in. Every heartbeat pangs my chest.

  I hire a car to drive me from el D.F. to Monte Lobo. I always feel heavy when I return to my home, but this time the weight of it makes it hard for me to even move. This must be what it feels like to be one hundred years old, the ache of every year pressing on your bones. Except in my case, it’s the weight of every minute away from Sedona.

  Every minute with my mind turning over our last moment together. I hate that she thinks I might be a part of the council’s idiotic obsession with my future offspring. I hate knowing Don Santiago triggered the trauma of her ordeal again.

  But now I know with complete certainty—it’s impossible for us to be together. I could never bring her back here. All she would remember is the evil done to her.

  A growl starts up in my throat. I should’ve killed every member of the council the moment they set us free. Am I such a coward to turn away from murder?

  I scrub my face, but it does nothing to clear the cobwebs hanging over my eyes. If only I could find my way out of this legacy of gloom.

  Juanito runs out to meet me, his childish face, sometimes appearing so old with the burdens he carries, shines. “Don Carlos!” He skids to a stop, reaches enthusiastically for my suitcase. I let him take it, not because he’s a servant and I think it’s his job, but because denying him would cause disappointment.