The Reluctant Alpha
One of my first experiences publishing a story was “The Reluctant Alpha,” a paranormal contribution to the book Shades of BWWM by Love Journey. Blake has to go back to the life he didn’t want, but will he end up finding what he desires most by returning?
Blake’s white fur shone under the full moon. He lifted his muzzle to the autumn wind rustling through the pine trees and inhaled. Nothing. He sprinted on all fours to a large clearing, scanning the pitch. Where the hell are they? Two beacons flashed on the other side accompanied by a light dinging sound. The breeze carried the titillating scent of the person emerging from the car. He closed his eyes, filled his lungs with the wondrous essence and released a soulful howl. His heart and senses reeled. It was her.
“I’m here, come.” Her sultry tone drifted over the field and fueled his reignited passions.
He barely felt the ground under his paws as he ran, clearing the quarter-mile in mere seconds. He straightened his hind legs and growled at the excruciating spasms permeating his body. Cracking from repositioning joints surrounded him and stinging from receding fur prickled all over. Wolf growls became human as he stretched and touched his toes to the tips of a pair of leather heels. He heaved and wiped his stinging eyes with the back of a trembling hand; tiny bumps sprayed across his exposed skin.
“You’re late.” Her grousing didn’t dampen the desire building inside. Both his canine and male ethos burned against the chill covering him. She threw a blanket over his shoulders; it helped with one but not the other. He reached for her. “No,” she sidestepped his touch, “get in.” She blasted the heat and peeled out of the clearing.
He smacked his parched lips, blinked at the highway lights beaming into the car and glanced over his shoulder. “Where’s Raphael? Didn’t he summon me?” He bristled at the sound of his crackling hominid voice through his chattering blunt teeth. He would have to readjust to them along with the lack of fur.
“No,” she bit the corner of her lip, “I did.”
He straightened and peered at her. “Amber,” he warbled, “you broke protocol? You know how dangerous it is to go over Raphael’s head.”
“Yeah,” Amber’s gaze vacillated between him and the road. “but we need to talk.”
A prickle ran down his spine, playing off of his mate’s emanating fears along with a bombardment of scents swirling around her and muddling his senses. He leaned closer. “What is it?”
“Later,” she picked up a water bottle from the cupholder between them, “drink this.” They continued down the road in silence.
Amber swerved into a hotel lot and parked in an isolated slot in the back. She led him towards the brightly-lit door, stopping a couple of times to look around.
He scanned the surrounding night and opened his nostrils. They weren’t alone. He wrapped an arm around Amber’s trembling body and continued to survey their environment until they walked through the glass door and into a hotel room.
Amber locked the door and turned on the bathroom light. “Take a shower.”
He stood between her and the room. “Not yet. I want answers.”
Amber wrinkled her wide nose. “Take a shower first.” Hands-on hips, she shot a commanding stare, refusing to budge.
Read the entire story in Shades of BWWM by Love Journey Books.
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