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Dirty Alphas Page 26
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Darrel nuzzles into my neck, his whiskers tickling against my skin as he kisses me gently. “I thought it would,” he whispers. “Lance hasn’t looked over once that I can tell, and Jacob can’t keep his eyes off you.”
A stroke of somewhat devious genius hits me, and I pull back to look at Darrel. The only way to end this fight with the victors is to signal Oxonos. The only way to do that is if I shift into a wolf. I need to strip, and Darrel just handed me a perfect excuse—even if it is a little scandalous.
“You know what would really distract Jacob?” I say as I put my feet down on the ground. Unbuttoning my jeans, I unzip my fly and shimmy my pants down to my ankles before stepping out.
Darrel’s hands encircle my hips, his eyes glowing silver as they meet mine. His breaths come quick and heavy. “Scarlet, I…don’t want our first time to be here in front of these assholes.”
Nodding, I wrack my brain for a way to communicate that’s not why I’m undressing without admitting it out loud. “Darrel, I know things aren’t going as planned and we’re next to this stinky marsh, but I’d love to keep going.”
His attention flicks over to the marsh and understanding dawns in his gaze. A moment later, Darrel’s fingers slip under the seam of my shirt. “I know what you mean.”
Throwing my hair over my shoulder, I look back at Jacob’s packmates. Their rabid attention is now divided between the fight and my half-naked form. I couldn't really give a shit about all of them but don’t want to do anything that would make Darrel really uncomfortable either—especially if it’s sexual.
“I’m just asking you to kiss me—and only if you want to.”
“Scarlet, there’s never a time I won’t want to kiss you.” His eyes glow an even brighter silver. He raises my shirt up slowly, lifting a brow in question; after I nod my ascent, he pulls my shirt up and helps me with my sports bra next.
“Good.” Knowing this is my chance to really distract and injure Jacob before we start our full-throttle attack, I jump back onto Darrel, wrapping my legs around his waist. “Five minutes, then we really get this party started.”
Grabbing under my butt again, he scoops me back into him and starts really kissing me. We kiss desperately, our tongues caressing over one another as I press myself so tightly against him that his muscles rub against my core with every breath.
The sounds of the fight behind us intensifies, and I only break away to make sure Lance is still winning. Jacob is a ragged mess, bloody, with his face and side savaged. Lance doesn’t even show a sign of injury. He bites into Jacob’s shoulder and latches on, but Jacob’s attention is still fastened on Darrel and me.
Feeling Jacob’s menacing gaze on my ass, I decide to send him a message and slip down and gyrate my hips up and down against Darrel.
Darrel takes in a harsh breath as his fingers squeeze into my hips. “Oh, Scarlet,” he whispers into my ear. “You keep doing that, and I’m going to forget about our audience.”
Heat floods my core at the idea, how very bad and dirty and wrong it is. I shouldn’t want Darrel to push my underwear aside right here when we’re all in a life or death situation, but my panties soak with my desire. “We definitely can’t do that,” I reason with myself. “Not while Mack and Lance are still in danger. Also, my family is going to come back soon, and they'll catch us—and that's definitely not part of any of my fantasies.”
The very idea thankfully cools my raging hormones. If my mom caught me having sex, she’d probably want to start giving me pointers, and that’s motivation enough for me to wrap this up.
“Okay, Lance seems like he has enough of an upper hand—let’s end this shit once and for all.”
“And after that's over,” Darrel says as his eyes glow all the brighter, “how about you and I ride off on my motorcycle to the nearest private place so we can finish what we almost started?”
Setting down my feet, I push down the elastic on my underwear and wiggle out of them, all the while keeping Darrel’s gaze. “Yes.”
That right there sounds like very good motivation to survive.
Now fully naked, I turn toward the fight just in time to see Jacob break away from Lance, charging straight at me. A crack rips through the air, and Lance’s body flies to the side as blood splashes out.
From all around us, soldiers charge, their guns lifting.
I barely have time to throw out my arms to protect Darrel behind me when Jacob dives up and his jaws close around my shoulder.
Searing pain eclipses my senses as my vision blurs. New strikes of pain sear down my front, and I find myself pinned on top of Darrel, with the massive wolf’s weight on me.
My wolf surges to the forefront, but she can’t heal my wounds fast enough, and Jacob keeps shaking my shoulder. Our change over to wolf comes slowly, achingly slow. I claw up at Jacob, but he’s too close, crushing me down.
With a violent surge, a massive glimmering white worm erupts from the still waters. Astonishingly fast, it’s gaping mouth comes down over one of the soldiers. The tube contracts, and when the worm lifts up again, the man is gone. The armed forces open fire on the worm as it closes around another werewolf, but the bullets only spark off the worm’s plated exterior.
Jacob throws his head back and forth again, wrenching back my attention.
The bones in my face shift as I fully become a wolf, and I bare my fangs but can’t catch hold of Jacob.
I can’t breathe under his weight, and the whole world is a mess of blurry pain.
Darrel finally squeezes out from under me, stripping and changing to wolf all while Jacob has me pinned under his weight.
In the distance, Lance limps closer, dragging his bleeding body toward Jacob.
Both Lance and Darrel attack Jacob’s back, taking big, tearing bites into his shoulders, but Jacob doesn’t even seem to notice. He just lays there, strangling the life out of me.
A body hurtles through the air, flying toward us, and suddenly Mack is above me. His foot connects with the side of Jacob’s head with a loud crack.
Jacob tumbles off me, and I immediately push to my feet and dive after him. My bones ache and lungs burn, but I’m running on pure instinct and adrenaline. Jacob doesn’t react in time, and I clamp my jaws around his throat.
Blood fills my mouth, and the taste is both victory and poison. I don’t want his man-eater blood in my mouth, but I dig my teeth in deeper and try not to swallow.
Jacob rakes at my body with his claws, and I rake back, but I have the advantage. I have him. And though I feel him slice through my fur, I know he’ll die before I do. Three werewolves and Mack attack Jacob on his sides, but Jacob’s full concentration is on shredding my belly.
Jerking back and forth, I rip through his throat. Blood gushes over my muzzle, and I have to let go just to breathe. Gasping, I scramble out just before Jacob thuds onto the road.
He twitches, his paws scratching through the dirt once before going still. Blood gushes from both of his sides and neck. It covers the three wolves and man who all stand panting around the corpse.
The sleek dark wolf I recognize as Lance limps over to me, leaning down to see my injuries.
I can feel the blood dripping from my torn belly, and from Lance’s whine, it’s probably pretty bad. Two more wolves close in, nosing my underside, but I can’t stop looking up at Mack.
He’s okay.
There are burns around his wrists and neck. He sports a split lip and bruise ringing his left eye, though it’s already starting to yellow at the sides and on his eyelid. He’s battered and bruised, but he stands tall, staring down at me with terrified aquamarine eyes.
“Scar, baby, how injured are you?”
I shake my head. I’m fine. Now that I can see that he’s okay, I don’t have a care in the world.
“My love,” he whispers as he takes my muzzle into his hands. This is the first time he’s ever seen me as a wolf, I realize, and he’s not looking at me any differently.
Some fear I didn’t even know
I was hanging on to releases.
My wolf pushes forward then, and I realize something—I’ve been in control this whole time. I let her have the reins, and she never took them. My underside burns like the fires of hell, and convulsions rip through my body as my muscle and bone knit together.
When my haze of pain has subsided enough that I can see, I realize the fighting hasn’t ended. My sister, mother, and father fight soldiers as the worm continues to swallow them whole.
I push at Darrel and Aaron, throwing my head in the direction of the fighting. They resist at first, but when I keep pushing at them, they charge off toward where my mother is hitting armed men with her massive purse…which must have a brick in it or something.
Turning to Lance, I sniff around his coat until I find his blood on one of his shoulders. A red, angry wound puffs out of his upper right foreleg. When I stick my nose to it, my nostrils burn, and I can’t help drawing back.
Silver bullet.
Damn it. Death by armored worm is too good for those assholes, taking a shot at Lance mid-challenge with silver ammo.
Pushing down my wolf, I force my change back, straining against my body's urge to stay lupine for easier healing. My bones shift under my skin, aching as they break and reform. The downy red fur of my pelt pulls into my skin, leaving it feeling itchy and tingly.
I crouch down over Lance’s wound. Sudden intense relief hits me when I find an exit wound, though that side has mostly closed.
“There’s still silver in there.” I bring my lips to cover over the swollen skin, but Lance leaps away from me, harrumphing and shaking his head.
“Scar, what’s going on?” Mack says as he crouches down beside me. He examines the red and swollen wounds that have already closed on my belly and clicks his tongue. Without seeming to think about it, he pulls off his shirt and maneuvers it over my head.
I put my arms through the holes and jerk the shirt down. “What’s the matter is that Lance won’t let me suck out his poisoned blood.”
“Why?” Mack asks, his brow furrowing.
“Probably because it’s silver— but his wound is healing, and his wound stinks of silver. I can spit out poison, but it’s pumping into his veins and might hit his heart.” When I make another move toward Lance, he backs away again, his paws scrabbling over the gravel.
Mack crosses the distance, grabbing Lance, who thankfully doesn’t lash out or bolt. My fae prince latches his mouth over Lance’s wound, sucks for a moment, then spits out blood.
Aaron and Darrel join me a few minutes later, sitting down on either side of me, watching a fae prince save a werewolf.
Chapter Thirty-three
Lance
I come to, feeling like my arm may explode. At some point, I changed into my human form and someone dressed me. My gaze combs over the area from face to face, my brothers, Scarlet’s family, Prince Macklin, that fae weirdo Oxonos, and then I see her. She wears the clothing she came in with, jeans and a tank top. No blood seeps through her clothing; as far as I can see, she’s healed.
No thanks to me.
Laying my head back on the dirt, I stare up at the dark clouds above, feeling like absolute shit. My brothers are safe, the prince released from capture, and Jacob is dead. All of it is in spite of my involvement.
“Hey there, how you feeling?” Aaron says as he crouches down beside me. “How’s that shoulder?”
I reach over, feeling the raised wound just below the round of my shoulder bone. “It’ll heal.”
“Thanks to Mack.” Aaron lands down on his butt, hooking his elbows around his knees. “Don’t worry about it though, man. I guess since I released him from those chains—we’re all square.”
“I wasn’t worrying.” I glare up at the heavy cloud cover, wondering why the hell the sky hasn’t just thrown us a bone and given us more limited visibility.
Not that it would matter; even if it was pouring, I would have still lost my shit. I would have still put everyone’s life in danger because of my complete lack of control.
Covering my eyes, I whisper, “Pathetic.”
Aaron pats my uninjured shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, man. We’re all messed up in the head right now. I don’t know how we thought coming home was going to be easy—we lost our minds. Especially since the monsters under our beds were still there.”
Wincing, I sit up. “Looks like he’s not going to be doing much of anything now.”
We both peer over to the mountain of fur and blood lying on the gravel road. Most of the carnage has been cleared away around Jacob’s body, and only a few blood stains and discarded guns mark that any other werewolves have been here at all.
Glancing over to the tall, willowy fae that stands just a little inside Prince Macklin’s personal space, nodding vigorously, I can’t help wondering where the guy puts it. Maybe Oxonos Hyposis has instantly metabolized the werewolves, or maybe their corpses are lining the marsh floor—not that it matters much.
Green eyes catch mine, and I look up into Scarlet’s beautiful face.
Aaron glances between us. “She was sitting by you for the last hour. She and Darrel dressed you, and she refused to leave you until your breathing evened out.”
“Thanks,” I mutter as I hold her gaze. I want to look away, knowing I don’t deserve the way my heart skips when our gazes connect, that jolt I feel in my gut like I’m half-elated and half-terrified to have her attention completely to myself.
My true mate.
The only true mate I’ll ever get.
And one week in, I almost get her killed.
Maybe some werewolves just don’t deserve true mates. Lucky for her, she has a few more.
Scarlet wouldn’t miss me—as far as I can tell, she doesn’t really even like me.
What an absolute mess.
Scarlet steps toward me, heading across the space, her lips parting like she might say something.
I wave at her. “I’m fine,” I mouth across the distance. “Do what you have to do.”
“You’re okay?” she asks as her eyes fix on my injured shoulder.
I pull up the sleeve of my shirt, showing her the raised, silver bullet-wound scar there.
“Looks like you and Darrel have something more in common than your sense of humor,” Aaron says with a smirk, obviously referring to the fact that Aaron believes we possess no sense of humor. Darrel is ten times the man I am.
Scarlet still looks like she might bolt over to us, so I consciously break from her gaze and focus on my brother.
Aaron doesn’t even look dirty, as if he’d found a nice, clean spot to lay down his clothing before changing into a wolf. Probably had. “We’re about to have company. I think she’s just delaying saying goodbye to Mack.”
Scarlet does have a finger hooked in Mack’s jean pocket, as if she’s afraid he might disappear. They stand facing Oxonos as the fae drones on in what appears to be unbroken speech.
“What are we going to do about the prince?” Aaron asks as he too watches the group.
Since arriving, I have run over many plans on how Scarlet and her family can cut ties with the fae. I’ve charted out a five-year plan on how they can push the fae into economic instability. It was a waste of time and energy. Scarlet is going to be alpha in the way she sees fit, and as far as I can see, it will be through cooperation with the fae rather than hostility.
Sighing, I run a hand over my short, buzzed hair, feeling it scratch over my palm. “If we want to be with her, I’m thinking the prince comes with.”
“I’m not exactly complaining about that.” Aaron smiles a little wickedly, making me want to roll my eyes. “But I do know someone who might not be able to handle it very well.”
We both look over at Darrel and catch the alpha’s dark gaze.
“I guess we’ll just have to see how things play out,” I say, but I suspect Darrel might be the most adaptable of the three of us in the end. He is certainly the most levelheaded and empathetic. He won’t want to see Scarlet in pai
n, and perhaps that will be enough to help Darrel stop seeing enemies around every corner.
Just at that moment, Prince Macklin holds up a hand and speaks loud enough for me to hear across the distance. “Your service is very appreciated. I will take your request to the queen and inform her of the great service you played in the part of my rescue.”
“And that would be my cue. Mind if I borrow your van?”
I dig into my pocket, surprised to find my keys there, and toss them over to Aaron, who catches them mid-air. When Aaron stands, I call over, “What are you going to tell Prince Macklin?”
“I’m going to ask him to hang out—with Scarlet, of course. Just want to clear the air and make sure we’re all on the same page,” Aaron says with a heated grin pointed toward the pair. “Do you need a spreadsheet?”
“I’m sorry I asked in the first place.” I stand.
Prince Macklin wraps Scarlet in a tight embrace as Aaron approaches the pair. The fae looks as if he is trying to be careful of her injured stomach but can’t help pulling her into him.
They break away from each other, and Scarlet goes on tiptoes to give Mack a quick kiss. She whispers, “I love you.”
I read it on her lips and turn away.
A pulse of jealousy explodes in my chest, but it isn’t for the kiss—no, to my surprise, it’s for the words. Will my true mate ever love me? Do I even deserve to find love?
Most likely, not.
I’ve never sought it and have little enough to give. Why does the thought of never hearing those words spoken to me hurt worse than getting shot then?
“Lance Knight, we need to speak to you.”
I look over just in time to see Scarlet’s parents approaching. Jack Riley’s shirt is in shreds, but a pair of glasses sit perched upon his nose, making him look like a scholar who has been victim to a book avalanche. Perhaps this just comes to mind because I’d been in Jack’s office and seen how possible that scenario could be.
Scarlet’s mother, however, looks untouched. Her brown hair sits in a tight, high bun on top of her head, and not a hair is out of place. She smiles warmly at me, tapping my arm as if in comfort. “You’re the last person we need to talk to about this, but Scarlet insists it’s your decision. Both your brothers agreed, but if you say no, we’ll respect that.”