Chapter 3

Terren

I was hungry

Hungry to free my wolf that is. For six god-damned days I have been in the city, encased in a steel-and-glass building sixteen hours at a time with nothing but concrete under my feet, day and night. I desperately needed to fill my lungs with the scent of warm earth, sweet pine, and rich, verdant life if I was to sustain whatever remained of my sanity.

I needed to run with my wolves and lead them on a kill. To feel flesh part under my claws, for raw meat to give beneath my fangs. The insistent pressure between my thighs and the shimmer of pheromones coating my skin also kept reminding me of another critical need I was neglecting, a need that is not so readily satisfied. It was much too risky.

   I’d gone too long without sexual release, but I can't risk even a nice good old tumble in the sheets, all sweaty, steamy and oh so satisfying with a willing female when my wolf seemed insistent on claiming a mate. That is not something I am going to ever do. Why the hell does Scooby want a mate so badly anyway? Lycans age far slower than humans, some even living for as long as centuries, and yet here I was, barely two decades and already the wolfish bastard wants to bag himself a wife. Come on, I am way too young for this. I sure hope this is just a phase or something, cos I've been celibate for the past two years now, and it hasn't been fun.

   Never long on patience, I was edgy and amped on adrenaline and hormones. Even knowing I could be in my part of the Simmerian Forest in twenty minutes tops in my private jet, that didn’t curb my temper while I sat at a desk in the Argent Industries building doing stupid paperwork. Stupid though it was, it was a necessary evil. I needed to do the what was expected of me and more as I am the Alpha of one of, if not 'the', most powerful pack in the country. This tremendous responsibility had fallen to my scarred hands when I had ascended to Alpha shortly after I had torn a hole in my Dear Old Dad's chest. Ah, fond memories. Just the mere thought of that blessed day is enough to lift my spirit and lighten my mood. Well, just slightly.

   I stood up and spun around to face the view of the Hudson River six blocks away. A breeze through the open windows of the fourteenth-floor office carried a teasing hint of the river on a raft of summer heat, reminding me that my imprisonment was only temporary. A fresh wave of pure need hit me and I growled softly, my right hand tightening on the leather arm of my desk chair. The wood creaked, protesting the crushing pressure, and I consciously relaxed her fingers one by one, until I had released the poor thing, saving it from imminent destruction. Now, if only someone could come save me.

   The door behind me opened and a husky alto voice inquired, “Alpha?”

I swiveled around to come face to face with my dear beloved Fione, Fione Fang, my second and head enforcer—the Beta to my Alpha. She was the second in command of the Pack and the head of it's security. One of the wolves closest and dearest to my heart, Fione was also my best friend—we’d grown up together, surviving through a very harsh and cruel childhood, courtesy of my now deceased Father, may his soul rot in hell. When we could escape the prying eyes of my bastard father and his lackeys, we tussled and played dominance games as adolescents, then sparred together as adults. And yes, we slept together once or twice but it was strictly a friends with benefits kind of hookup. Only with more teeth. And claws.

Tonight, my Beta wore her usual uniform—a formfitting gold T-shirt, black leather pants, and soft, velvety leather high heeled boots that reached her mid-thigh. Hell if I knew how she fought in them, but I totally see how practical they can be when I considered the incredibly sharp and painfully thin blade, hidden within the stilletos. I have seen them at work and I must say they are a very nice touch. Her compact muscular form looked hard and battle worthy, despite the soft swell of her full breasts and the luscious fall of thick red curls that touched the top of her shoulder blades. Fione had sensed the rise of my wolf, stirring Fione’s instinctive need to guard her Alpha against any and all distress. I didn’t find Fione’s sudden appearance in the office an intrusion on my privacy. Pack members had very few physical or emotional boundaries.

   "I'm fine, Fione." I told her, perhaps not convincingly enough, as I could still see a glimmer of concern in her eyes as she looked at me. When she saw that I not going to be asking for any assistance or help for anything, like for instance, a quick romp, she backed out of the room after one last searching look and closed the door. I reluctantly brought my stubborn wolf to heel, promising him and I freedom soon. My wolf growled, telling me he wanted more than just 'freedom' but I quickly shushed him up. Don't be greedy pup.

I looked at the time from the clock on the wall.

Almost ten thirty. Traffic on the Northway would be light this time of night. I couldn’t wait to remove my damned white linen shirt and tailored black trousers, a necessary concession to my high-profile persona as the CEO of Argent Industrie. If I and my wolves who also worked in the building left now, we’d be home before full moonrise. Running under the light of the moon was my favorite time to hunt—the forest took on a primeval glow and the very air seemed to shimmer with moon dust. I preferred to run in moonlight whenever I could so I did so, even though most of us Lycans have evolved to the point where we no longer needed the pull of the full moon to shift.

I and my Pack could shift at any time, although I alone could shift instantaneously. Even my most dominant wolves would need a minute or more to accomplish the change. My unique ability to call my wolf at any time, to shift partially or totally at will, was one of my greatest joys and helped balance the price I paid in loneliness for being the Alpha. They say it is lonely at the top. I say truer words have never been spoken.

“Fione,” I said quietly as I packed my briefcase. The door opened and my Beta slipped inside. Fione’s bright violet eyes took in the unfinished meal I had delivered earlier in the evening and narrowed in displeasure. I ignored the look. “Have Tony bring the Rover around. It's time we went home.”

“You didn’t eat.”

“I stopped needing a mother when she hung herself, Fione. I don't need you to take her place. Trust me.”

Fione folded her arms beneath her breasts and spread her legs, an aggressive stance. She met my eyes for a second before looking away. “I never said you needed a mother. It's more like you need a mate. If you won’t look after yourself—”

“Fione.” I gave a warning growl. I knew many Pack members were anxious for me to take a mate, not because of pressure to produce an heir—I had decades for that—but because I would have more protection. The Alpha of the  Pack could accept intimate care and safeguarding from a mate, whereas he couldn’t from anyone else. I had my reasons for ignoring the not-so-subtle hints that Fione and those close to me had been making, especially over the last one year. I did not want a mate. I had seen and still remember the desolation in my mother’s eyes. Desolation my father, her mate, put there —he had left her broken, an empty shell of who she had once been. I had lost my mother, and in many ways, long before she had looped a silk rope round her neck and hung herself. When you mate with someone, you give them a very dangerous power, the power to hurt you deeper and more excruciatingly than anyone else ever can. It makes you vulnerable. I would never willingly allow myself to be that vulnerable for anyone. Ever. “We’ve had this discussion. I have absolutely no desire to have it again.”

“You’ve been working twenty hours a day for eight months and ignoring your needs. It’s not going to help the Pack if you’re too weak to stand a challenge.” Fione was a dominant Were at the top of the Pack hierarchy, and one of the few who would dare incite my ire in order to protect me. And I loved her it, I really did, but that did not make it rankle me less.

  I cleared the desk so quickly Fione barely had time to put her back against the door before I towered over her. I didn’t touch her. I didn’t have to. Fione dropped her chin and turned her face away. I brought my lips close to Fione’s ear, nibbling it, and when I spoke, even the Lycans outside in the hall, who could hear a mouse in the walls three floors below them, did not hear my voice. As their Alpha, I could speak to them telepathically with my mind using the mental link as effortlessly as I could with words. Do you question my ability to lead, Beta Mine?

Fione shivered and tilted her head, further exposing her neck. A Lycan as powerful as I could crush the windpipe or tear open the great vessels in seconds. “No, Alpha, I do not doubt you. But I am responsible for keeping the Pack safe, and for that, we need you.”

Am I not always here for you?

“Yes, Alpha,” Fione whispered, her eyes nearly closed, her gaze still averted. “But many in the Pack fear what will happen if the humans decide to hunt us. You give them the strength to fight that fear.”

   I do don't I? I thought to myself as I sighed and pressed my mouth to Fione’s neck, grazing the bounding pulse with my fully erupted canines. My touch was possessive, not sexual. Fione was my wolf, as were all the wolves in the Silvermoon Pack, and Fione needed my touch, my heat, my strength. Isolation was a form of death for a Lycan. There was no such thing as a successful Lone Wolf in our species. You are either Pack.. or you are Rogue. Fione arched subtly against me, taking comfort from my reassurance. I growled and bit down gently until Fione whined, her shiver of fear turning to pleasure. Gradually, Fione relaxed against my body, at ease and content. Only then did I release her.

“Do not worry, my wolf,” I whispered aloud. “The Pack will always come before all else in my life.”

“I know,” Fione murmured, she seemed to look grateful and saddened at the same time.

“Come on.” I squeezed Fione’s shoulder. “Would you maybe like to run with me tonight?”

“With pleasure, Alpha.” Fione reached for the door and then abruptly stepped in front of it. “Wait.”

I felt it too. Waves of tension streaming toward me from the guards outside the door, but I could sense no immediate threat. No scent of enemies. “Open it.”

Fione open the door as I told her to, but continued to shield my body with her own.

“What is it, Talon?”

   Talon, a barrel-chested male easily four inches taller than my own six feet four inches, filled the doorway, his grizzled face tight with strain. “We have a problem. Several of the pups slipped our perimeters and left the Den. We just found out.”

Damn it. This is so not how I wanted to spend my free time “Where are they?” Heat flared in my eyes. The northern extent of Pack land bordered the  Furback Pack territory. And they were not our friends.

That particular pack of Lycans have been at war with us since we carved a huge chunk in the slice of the pie that was Simmerian Forest for our territory. They were more territorial than any other pack of  wolves in the country. They would not give safe passage within their territory, even to foolish wolf pups.

“They went through the southern border of the Den,” Max replied.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Double Fuck. That was the border separating us from the rogues. Who? Who could be so foolish? Even as I asked myself these questions, an image began to form in my mind...

“Who?” I asked, though I could already hazard a guess.

“Cain, Lorna, and Tega."

I cursed. Of course it's them. Who else could it be? Only the most troublesome trio of pups in the pack could find themselves in so much trouble. They've been dying to win my approval ever since they started their enforcer's training. No matter how many times I tried to tell them they had nothing to prove, they always, always pulled stunts like this. If only they weren't so damn adorable...Goddess. When I lay my paws on them, they're in for some serious spanking. 

Three teenagers, two dominant young sisters and a submissive young male, all in military training at the Den—My home and Pack headquarters. The adolescents had strict curfews, not only because they were still too immature to control their shifts in the face of rampant hormonal changes, but because like all young wild animals, they craved excitement and had no sense of their own mortality. I cursed again. Cursing is all I seemed to be doing today.

   I shouldered them aside and was halfway down the hall before I even aware I had moved. Fione, Talon, and the third guard, Ren, ran after me, trying to keep up. I didn’t bother with the elevator but loped into the stairwell, grasped the metal railing, and vaulted over the side and onto the landing one floor below. I leapt down, floor by floor, until I landed on my feet having reached ground level seconds later. When I went through the door into the dark, I was racing on all fours. The others couldn’t shift while moving, and I didn’t wait for them. I was the Pack Alpha, and three of mine was in danger.

I ran alone through the night, fury rushing through my veins. Goddess have mercy on any who harms my pups...I sure as hell won't.