Alpha Domination (Alpha Wolf Book 1) Read online

  My captor, Nathaniel, clears his throat, taking a couple of steps towards her. “I told you not to let yourself in.”

  She tips her head on one side, revealing a tight smile as her eyes flicker momentarily back to me. “You didn’t answer the door.” Her gaze moves over my chain and the mattress. “If you wanted to play bondage games, you should have said.”

  “You shouldn’t be in here.”

  “Clearly.” Her lips purse. “I brought your groceries. And your liquor.” He grunts at the mention of the latter. She pauses thoughtfully. “She’s the girl from the local news. The one that got bitten by a wolf last week. Might be a thought when you dispose of the body. Or whatever you’re going to do with her.”

  She turns on her heel and moves back into the light before glancing at him.

  My breath catches in my throat. Dispose of the body?

  “Coming?”

  His whole profile has stiffened like the last five minutes haven’t happened. He heads for the stairs as she disappears completely. Then he pauses and speaks to me without turning. “Eat your soup or it’ll get cold. You’re going to need your strength.”

  Bitten: One Week Earlier

  It had snowed again, but that was nothing new this time of year in the state of Washington. I’d just finished working at the wildlife conservation centre for the evening. So far, my job involved typing up statistical information, but I’d been promised that I could go out on a few data retrieval missions soon.

  My wellingtons crunched in the heavy snow as I snuffled deeper into my scarf. I’d tied it into a double layer, but even that didn’t seem to keep the cold out. The walk back to the intern cabin was a good twenty minutes away through the blanketed trees.

  Not for the first time, I wondered if I’d made the right decision by heading to Washington.

  I’d been staying with my aunt in America after she’d gotten ill and had nobody around to look after her. It had wrenched me to leave the UK and all my friends, but she was desperate and sick. Plus, I’d kind of felt indebted to her. After my parents had died, she’d been there for me. She’d been the only close family I’d had left.

  And then she died, too.

  By the time all of the legal stuff was cleared up, possessions taken care of, that sort of thing, I hadn’t had enough money to head back home. Stuck in dusty Oklahoma, I’d panicked and taken the lifeline my distant boyfriend had offered. He was part of a whale protection project that kept him almost constantly overseas. It was tough being together without being together, but he was always looking out for me.

  That was how I’d ended up in Washington. The conservation centre I was working at had a low paid intern programme that he’d managed to convince a colleague to get me on. They’d generously helped to transport me across the country, too.

  Which is why the swirl of homesickness in my stomach felt like ungratefulness and betrayal.

  I dug my mobile out of my pocket, dialling Carrick’s number with frozen fingers. He picked up on the second ring, only he didn’t sound all that pleased to hear from me. “Yeah?”

  “Uh, hi. I was just... calling to hear your voice, really.”

  “Is there something wrong?”

  I hesitated, biting my lip. “No... You’re just so far away and I miss you.”

  “I’m always far away.” There was a disgruntled sigh. My hope for comfort crumpled. “Look, Rach, I’m busy. Call another time when you actually have something to tell me.”

  “But I–”

  The line clicked off and I glared at the mobile as if it was the hunk of metal’s fault. Stuffing the device back in my pocket, I trudged on.

  He’d been so distant lately. And not just geographically. Physically and emotionally, he’d just become so much harder to reach. The last time we’d seen each other, he’d barely wanted to touch me at all. And as for spending time with me... He’d packed his week up with events and visits that didn’t seem to involve me much either.

  I think I’d had one evening with him, totally alone. We’d stuck on a movie and, just when I was cuddling up, he’d started snoring with his head lolled back so that his nose built snot bubbles that would burst every five minutes.

  We’d always been so close, before. And now...

  I felt more alone than ever.

  The snow fell heavier. I crossed my arms over my chest and hugged myself tighter, convincing myself that Carrick was just having a difficult day. Maybe the next time he came he would be more romantic. Just a little bit of intimacy would be nice. We hadn’t even had sex in more than a year...

  My gaze tried to burn a hole into the snow beneath each footstep. Not that sex made a relationship, but it was a perk I wished I was able to indulge in more often.

  “Watch where you’re going there, miss.” I stepped back, inhaling sharply as my gaze snapped up to the man stood before me. He had an arm reached towards me as if he was trying to stop me from walking into him, but he seemed a fraction too far away for that to be necessary. “Almost ran into me, there.” There was a bobble hat on his head and what looked like a rifle or a shotgun slung over his shoulder.

  “Um, yeah, sorry,” I stuttered, stupidly. He was staring at me, a smile plastered on his face, and I couldn’t help but think he’d tried to walk into me on purpose. I glanced nervously at the trees and the ample space between us and them.

  “It’s not wise to be walking out here in this weather on your own, miss.”

  I shuffled my feet awkwardly. “Uh, yeah, I know. I’m just heading home.” He nodded, watching me like a cat with a mouse. “It’s not far,” I added, thinking of warmth and more distance between me and this man.

  My gaze briefly lit on his gun. It was polished up. He must have been the poacher that I’d been warned about. Nobody had caught him with any of the endangered wildlife, yet, but he’d been seen often enough disappearing into the woods for his description to have been circulated amongst the staff of the conservation centre.

  If I squinted and imagined away his hat and gun, then he could be the man who’d been playing cards in the corner of the small local bar a few nights ago. He was skinny and freckled with wiry mahogany hair. Not well built or physically threatening. And yet...

  Every fibre of my being had me feeling like a chicken cornered by a fox.

  “Would you like me to walk you back safe?”

  I swallowed and thought there was no way I could like an idea less, but he was still smiling at me, teeth white and sharp. A shiver traced down my spine. “I’m good, thanks. I know my way.”

  “I should insist–”

  “And I should report you for poaching,” I snapped nervously.

  There was a pop of surprise and then his smile became a smirk. His hand smoothed the wooden base of his shotgun. I gulped in icy air, wishing I’d held my tongue. “Thought there was some hidden spunk to you. Y’seem so submissive on the surface.”

  I could hear the ragged passage of my breath as I struggled for a response.

  “We’re gonna have some fun, you and me, missy.”

  “No, we’re not,” I answered and hurried past him, feeling my feet pick up to an unusually fast pace. I didn’t dare to look back for a good five minutes. When I did finally slow down, he’d gone and there was nothing but snow and trees to see around me.

  I paused to catch my breath, listening to my own pants as they slowed and eased, doubled over in relief that the strange man was gone. Then the noises separated and I realised I could hear someone else breathing. I lifted my head and opened my eyes.

  Something else.

  There was a wolf mere inches from my face.

  Hattie’s Draught

  The noises upstairs get louder. My captor sounds drunk.

  The mattress is lumpy. I sit cross-legged and stare at the bowl of cold soup. My stomach rumbles and I desperately want some, but what if he’s drugged it? What if it’s all a trick? There’s bread with the soup. I pick it apart slowly, savouring my small mouthfuls. Unless he’s baked it
himself, I doubt he’s tainted that.

  I wonder how long it’ll be before work report me as missing or Carrick realises he can’t get in touch with me. He was supposed to video call me in the next few days. Surely, he’d realise I was missing if nobody else did?

  Right...?

  “Georgina Rachel Appleby.”

  Nathaniel is silhouetted in the doorway. His words are slurred. He stumbles down the top two steps and my instinct urges me to catch him, but I force myself to remain frozen on the floor. As I contemplate my traitorous impulse, he makes the rest of his way more easily. I don’t know whether or not I’m relieved that he hasn’t fallen and smashed his face in. He crouches down beside me, his face inches from mine. I can smell alcohol and something else on his breath.

  “That’s who you are. Hattie showed me, Georgie.”

  “Rachel,” I correct, with a tinge of irritation. “Everyone calls me Rachel.”

  “Not me, Georgina.” He smirks and takes a swig from the bottle in his hand as I wrinkle my nose. “It’s been a long time since I met a she-wolf.”

  He leans in and I hold my breath as he smells my hair, the heat of his body too close. I can feel the gentle scrape of his stubble against my skin as he inhales. Involuntarily, I close my eyes. My heart is pounding and my mouth is running dry. I’ve been down here too long already. This weird intimacy is setting me on edge. I haven’t been touched like this in a while and, I realise, I should be feeling repulsed right now... but I’m not.

  And I don’t know why.

  “Hattie showed me the story online. About you getting bitten.” The words are slurred into my hair, vibrating through me. His fingers clumsily tangle in loose strands.

  A shiver caresses my spine. “I’m supposed to be doing an interview with the local paper tomorrow,” I lie, nervously. “If I don’t show up, they’ll realise I’m missing and come find me. You’ll be sorry you kidnapped me.”

  He inhales once more and leans back to take another draught from his bottle. I can smell something weird mixed into it, something my nose seems certain doesn’t belong. But how could I know that?

  Nathaniel sets the bottle down on the floor, the level inside reveals he’s drank very little. A frown furrows my brow momentarily. So why is he slurring so much?

  “You were outside the house. Naked. I didn’t kidnap you.”

  His eyes are bleary, bloodshot almost. Hattie, the woman from before, she said she’d brought him the drink. What if she’d laced it with something?

  Nathaniel touches my face in an overly familiar way. He’s looking straight at me, the anger and distrust missing, and I can’t help but think he looks haunted and lonely.

  “But I could smell you.” He pauses, his eyes boring into me. “Very rare for a woman to become a werewolf. There are only ever four or five, really. But you’re new. No one knows your name, yet.” His eyes take a nosedive to my lips and then struggle to find their way back up.

  I hesitate, unbalanced by his certainty and the way he keeps looking at me. He’s totally convinced by every word that comes out of his mouth.

  “Male werewolves discuss females. Always a prize to have one, Georgina.”

  “Rachel,” I mutter, the talk of werewolves making me even more anxious.

  No one has called me Georgina in years. Except my aunt. And since she died, I’ve just been Rachel.

  I clear my throat, nervously. “Has Hattie gone?”

  “She’s coming back,” he murmurs and starts playing with a strand of my hair again.

  He’s barely lucid. I feel like I should be taking care of him, not cowering in his dungeon. His tongue delves out to moisten his lips, something I notice and immediately wish I hadn’t, feeling my own mouth run dry once more.

  “She said I ran out of condoms. Don’t need them. Never have a woman here.”

  My eyes narrow on the drink in his hand. A mixture of feelings unfold in my stomach. The way he speaks suggests he isn’t thinking about sex with anyone, including me, despite the occasional glance that hints at his attraction. Which is a relief, I guess.

  So, he’s probably not going to rape me, but then why has he imprisoned me here?

  His head is tilted on one side as he absently plays with my hair, his lips parted and inviting. I hold myself as rigid as I can, listening to the tremor in my every breath and trying to convince myself it’s from fright.

  “Gone to get you clothes, too. I asked.”

  I catch the hand that’s playing with my hair, wanting to stop the bewildering feelings it invokes, but not prepared for the way his dazed vision crosses to me. He’s trying to focus on my eyes, only his gaze keeps dropping to my mouth, confusion blurring his expression.

  Somehow, I’m feeling sorry for him and oddly turned on by this strange vulnerability.

  He’d been so stoic, earlier. It was like dealing with a different man. And then I realise this is what’s behind that angry wall. He’s vulnerable from some indecipherable wound.

  Worse, it occurs to me, Hattie’s gone to get condoms, but not because he wants them, and he’s barely drunk any of the liquor so far. I close my eyes momentarily as the information fits together. She must be drugging him for sex with whatever is in that bottle.

  What should I do...?

  I glance down at his body without thinking and the pulse in my throat jumps. I almost don’t blame her.

  “Thank you for the clothes,” I say, quietly, releasing my grasp and shielding my gaze with my lashes.

  Part of me wonders if I should be rescuing Nathaniel from this woman and her designs on him. Another part thinks I should let her distract him whilst I figure out my escape.

  He glances at me with a familiar haze of distrust and then grunts as it disperses. “S’fine.” He has another pull on his bottle. If he keeps drinking like this maybe he’ll pass out. I glance at the chain. Even if he passes out, I can’t escape without a key.

  Still, he seems happy to talk right now, the contents of the bottle loosening his lips and giving me more control of the situation.

  “Why did you tie me up if you just found me outside?”

  “How’m I supposed to know who you’re working for?” he huffs as if I’m being ridiculously dumb. “Could be anyone. She-wolf turns up on my doorstep, of course I tie her up.”

  I have to play along with this ridiculous fantasy of his. It might be my only way of getting free. I shift my position, leaning closer to him, feeling that dangerous shiver of entering a more intimate space. The long shirt I’m wearing hikes up my thighs, drawing his attention momentarily.

  “But now you know I’m not working for anyone, you could just let me go,” I wheedle softly.

  He shakes his head, swaying back and forth. With his guard down, he looks almost sexy. “No. You’re new. You could ruin everything.” He wobbles and his hand catches on my shoulder to hold himself still. The touch burns not unlike fire. “New werewolf.” He swallows and I watch the thick sway of his Adam’s apple. “They bit you and ran away. Coward hoping to make his own female. Stupid fucker.” His voice deepens as his hand creeps up my throat to cradle my cheek. His eyes are wide. “And now they’ve drawn attention over here, where it was safe. That news story will bring hunters.” He looks at the dressing on my other shoulder. “Has brought hunters. No one else’d shoot with silver bullets.”

  “I’m not a werewolf,” I mutter in irritation.

  “Bite says different.”

  “There’s no such thing!”

  “I’m one,” he murmurs. He looks at me from below his lashes with almost puppy dog vulnerability. His words are thick, threaded with regret. My heart stops and I sense the intimate danger that I’m in as he continues to watch me. “I’ve been one for a very long time.”

  His insistence irritates me somewhat and I speak without thinking.

  “Then transform for me.”

  He shakes his head. “Too much to drink.” What an excuse... “Have you had your first change, yet? Do you ’member?”
/>   I blink at him, my recurring dreams blooming in my head. Dreams of running and transforming into a wolf. My mouth is open. They’re just dreams. Just dreams.

  “Must have done. Must’ve torn your clothes. ’Splains why you were naked.”

  “I am not a werewolf,” I whisper angrily, trembling, so distracted I don’t notice him leaning closer.

  His mouth covers mine, hot and desperate, fuelled by barely uncovered passion. His lips are so soft, velvet heat full of longing. A whimper of surprise and need sputters from my throat. Alcohol and whatever Hattie has given him burns my tongue. I push him back enough to see his dazed expression, panicked by the skitter of delight in my heartbeat from that split-second taste.

  “Thirsty,” he murmurs, reaching for his bottle like nothing has happened, but, shaking and off balance, I knock it out of his grasp and the liquid runs away on the basement floor. His face turns to mine, filled with thunder.

  “I saw something in your drink,” I say, hastily, lying to cover my disorientation. He doesn’t need any more. He’s dangerous enough. “There might be an extra bottle upstairs.”

  I don’t want him to kiss me again. Something tells me that I would succumb to him, even though he’s my captor. And that can’t happen.

  I lie and tell myself it’s a perfectly reasonable reaction to such a heady kiss. That it’s because Carrick hasn’t been back in so long, that we haven’t had sex in forever. But reasoning it out doesn’t make it any better. Doesn’t mean I should let this nutcase touch me again.

  Nathaniel tries to stand, but collapses back on the mattress, spilling the cold soup on the floor beside it.

  “I need... water,” he groans.

  His face has started to bead with sweat and his skin is taking on an ashen tone. Hattie must usually control his drinking of whatever the hell she gives him, but this time he’s sent her away. If her plan really is to get him into bed, he’s too hammered to be any use to her now, anyway.

  I see my chance. “I could go get you some water, but you’d have to take my chain off first.”