Claimed by the Alphas (Shifters of Appalachia Book 1) Page 2

  Yes, five thousand dollars—the cost of less than two months of rent for her Manhattan flat. That was the going rate for the daughters of Tye County, apparently.

  Five of the larger wolves sauntered past the human party, heading down the long road that led back to the county.

  Rather than groveling to Blackthorn, the mayor had reached out to the Lazarus pack in a bid for their protection. In exchange for Mila becoming their alpha’s mate, the pack would mark the boundaries of Tye County. The marks would serve as a warning to all nearby shifters that the county was under the protection of the Lazarus pack, and any hostilities would be met with swift retaliation.

  “The folks of Tye are good, God-fearin’ people,” Harrison said. “Your wolves will do well to do their business and steer clear of them, ’specially our women.”

  Mila rolled her eyes, turning to scowl at the sheriff. “Oh, come on. Can you be anymore ungrateful?”

  Harrison met her gaze, his sunken eyes unflinching. “His kind needs to understand that there are boundaries—”

  “I think a wolf knows a lot more about boundaries than you do,” she replied, folding her arms across her chest. His lips flattened disapprovingly, but he remained silent.

  One of the Ramsey brothers muttered something under his breath. She could tell from Cora’s sharp gasp and flaming cheeks that it had been something crude. She didn’t waste energy on being mad. She was so done with them.

  “It’s time to go, Mila.”

  Asch echoed her sentiments aloud. She turned back to the alpha, hesitating at the sight of his hardened face. His eyes flickered over her, and he extended a hand, beckoning her forward.

  Before she could move an inch, Cora barreled into her, plastering herself to Mila’s side. Taken aback, she awkwardly patted Cora’s shoulder as the younger girl sobbed into her chest.

  “I’m gonna miss you so much,” she bawled. “Twyla Wright said she’s gonna name her first baby after you and I’m gonna do the same.”

  Mila bit her lip to keep from grinning at the bizarre homage. Her body relaxed, and she wrapped her arms tightly around her cousin.

  Voice low, she said, “Please, if you want to honor me, then forget about men and about babies. Focus on your education so you can test out of the fringes.”

  The irony of her words was not lost on her, but she said them anyway. Cora was a sweet girl, and she deserved better than Tye County.

  Her cousin pulled away, giving her a sullen nod. Releasing her, Mila stepped back and gave her one final smile before turning away. She cleared the distance between herself and Asch and slipped a hand into his much larger one.

  “Here’s her stuff.” Wayne moved forward to pass off her small carrier bag. To her relief, he had the decency not to toss it at the alpha.

  Asch accepted the bag, frowning. “Where’s the rest of it?” he asked, giving the bag a light shake for emphasis. He stood nearly a foot taller than her five-six, and she had to crane her neck back to look at him.

  “Back in town,” she said quietly, a little intimidated by him up close.

  “She tried to bring ’bout four suitcases,” Wayne explained. “Sheriff didn’t reckon she’d need all that.”

  Asch passed her bag off to one of the wolves, a reddish-brown female whose head came up to Mila’s chest. She took the handle gently between her teeth and turned, heading back toward the thick woods. The other wolves followed suit with only the large black male and the alpha’s snow-white mount lingering.

  “Make sure the rest of her things get to my wolves before they leave,” Asch ordered.

  He let go of her hand, and without preamble, hoisted her up by the waist. The movement was so effortless that she felt like a sack of feathers and not a grown woman. The black wolf had lowered his body, allowing Asch to position her astride his back. Unsteady, she gripped his fur. It was rich and velvet soft.

  “She ain’t gonna need none of that stuff,” Wayne muttered.

  Asch cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing.

  “That wasn’t a request.”

  The younger Ramsey brother floundered under the weight of the alpha’s ire. Not sparing the human another glance, Asch climbed onto the black wolf, settling behind her. His hard chest was pressed firmly against her back, and his muscled arms came around to embrace her.

  Without waiting for a signal from his alpha, the wolf rose and started back toward the heart of the forest. He trotted in agile strides until he caught up with his pack. Once she was confident that Asch wouldn’t let her fall, Mila let go of the wolf’s fur and leaned into the alpha’s chest.

  She didn’t look back, knowing the gnawing anxiety she was trying so well to hide would turn into full-blown fear.

  This was the path she’d chosen.

  3

  Caim kept pace with the other wolves as they scaled the mountainside, his powerful limbs bearing the weight of the pair without difficulty. Asch didn’t bother contemplating what was on his friend’s mind. His own thoughts were consumed by the small, soft woman in his arms.

  A woman whose scent was driving him insane.

  Beneath the sweat of travel, he could smell her uniquely feminine, honeyed scent. When combined with the lingering fragrance of her floral shampoo and the faint whiff of detergent that clung to her dress, it produced a blend that transported Asch back to his days as a teenager.

  Her scent reminded him of pretty girls in cropped shorts and too-tight shirts, leaning over the bed of his truck on hot summer evenings. It reminded him of a desire so visceral that no matter how many were-females he slaked his lusts on, he’d never felt truly satiated.

  He pulled her closer against his body in a possessive grip. He wouldn’t have to hold back with her. He could have her in every way he wanted. He could pour himself deep inside of her and not have to feel shame or worry about the repercussions.

  She would belong to him.

  Mila squirmed fitfully against him, making his cock stiffen further. He had been at half-mast since he had first laid eyes on her curvaceous little body. When he mounted Caim and drew her against him, her soft flesh had molded to his chest. Only the smell of her fear had stopped him from becoming fully aroused.

  The pack had fanned out around them. Only Brae trotted alongside the trio. She matched Caim’s brisk pace easily enough, but he could tell that she was tired. They all were.

  Tensions had been running high for the past week with everyone preparing for the arrival of the pack’s first human mate and the drastic changes that were to follow. It also hadn’t helped that her arrival was a day late, and none of them had slept in the interim. He could tell she hadn’t slept either.

  After only an hour of riding, exhaustion had won out over fear and she’d leaned her head against him, her eyes drooping prettily. He did his best to keep her warm as she dozed, though her stubborn limbs seemed incapable of retaining heat. He suspected that she hadn’t eaten in quite some time, and it pissed him off that her escorts had been so careless.

  The wolves halted as they reached the bluff, taking in the sight of the mountain valley. Bordered by two steep mountains and fed by the Tye River, the forty square miles of lowland forest made up just a fraction of the pack’s vast territory. Their hunting grounds extended well beyond the small sanctum.

  The land was currently in the final throes of autumn. Cold wind whistled through fields of yellowed grass. Only the pines and spruces held on to their greens, and even these seemed less verdant when paired alongside bare deciduous trees, which had long since cast their leaves into the river in preparation for the long winter to come.

  Beyond the river was The Cairn, hidden within a rocky hill that protruded from the earth at the valley’s center. The Cairn was the biggest of the six dens that were strategically positioned within their hunting grounds. Large game was scarce in the region, but it was by far the most defensible of their homes, and therefore, the perfect place to shelter their new mate.

  A particularly frigid wind assaulted
the bluff, rousing Mila. Asch frowned, wishing he’d had the foresight to bring a pelt to wrap her in. She wore a sheer black slip that dipped low at her cleavage and barely covered her ass. He couldn’t believe the men she’d been travelling with hadn’t offered her their jackets.

  She tipped her head back, gazing up at him through thick lashes. Even cold and pallid, she was lovely, and he couldn’t wait to get her back to the den and put some color in her cheeks.

  “Almost there?” she asked groggily.

  He squeezed her side in reassurance and pointed toward the hill in the distance.

  “Welcome to Cairn Valley.”

  He placed his lips on the top of her head, watching her face as she surveyed the landscape. Her expression was one of pure wonder.

  “Whoa,” she breathed.

  Caim let out a loud bark and the wolves sprinted forward, dexterously navigating their way down the steep cliff. Too large to safely take the shortcut, the black wolf set out down the winding trail carved into the mountainside.

  “We’re still a good twenty minutes out, even at this pace,” Asch told her.

  “How long was I asleep?”

  Asch looked at the sky, gauging the position of the sun.

  “Maybe three hours, off and on.”

  “I’m still exhausted,” she said, shifting to stretch the muscles in her back. His eyes honed in on the graceful curve of her neck.

  Unable to resist, he leaned down to nuzzle her neck, indulging in her sweet scent. She tensed but didn’t move away from him. Unexpectedly, she arched her neck to the side, affording him better access. His wolf pranced in his chest at the show of submission. He tightened his grip on her waist, grazing his sharp teeth over her delicate flesh. She let out a barely audible moan.

  He pulled back, knowing it would be all too easy to forget himself with her and now was neither the time nor the place. She needed food and rest, needed to feel safe and protected, but most of all, she needed to choose him and not Caim.

  * * *

  The den was a spacious cavern with several smaller passageways that led deeper into the mountainside. Disjointed light filtered down from a jagged gap in the ceiling.

  As they filed in, the wolves collapsed on various outcroppings and pallets, yawning and stretching their legs. At a glance, they seemed to be relaxing, but Mila could sense an undercurrent of agitation flowing between them.

  Asch dismounted at the mouth of a tunnel, pulling her down in tandem. She was relieved that they were finally at his den, but a little disappointed at the loss of contact.

  Mila had grown quite comfortable pressed against the alpha. She had been hiking through the wilderness for days, hungry, tired, and anxious. Maybe it was crazy, but she had never felt safer than when he’d wrapped his arms around her. For a little while, she’d been able to forget about all her worries and doubts, simply entrusting herself to his capable hands.

  With her feet firmly on the ground, she reached out to run a hand over the black wolf’s sleek fur.

  “Thanks, boy,” she said, giving his coat a little scratch. His head whipped around, and she swore his amber eyes were glaring at her. Face heating, she took a step back and murmured an apology.

  Asch gave him a hard smack on the side. The wolf let out a grunt of irritation before stalking off, tail raised high.

  “Don’t mind Caim,” he said. He placed a hand on her back to guide her forward, ushering her into the darkened tunnel.

  Head hung, she said, “No, I shouldn’t have treated him like a dog. It’s just hard to imagine that he’s a man under all that fur.”

  He gave an ironic laugh. “If you ever get to know him well, you’ll realize it’s quite the opposite.”

  “Where are we headed?” she asked, folding her arms beneath her breasts. The passage was dark and her nerves were starting to get the better of her again.

  “I’m taking you to your room. We will rest there today.”

  Right, werewolves are nocturnal.

  “Oh.”

  Their footsteps echoed in the darkness and anxiety made her legs wobbly. She tried to remind herself that this was what she’d wanted. Hell, she’d made it to the scaffolding before the sheriff could pluck the sobbing Twyla Wright from the crowd.

  “No, wait, hey, over here! Pick me! I’m the one!”

  She’d spent the next three weeks poring over her books on werewolves, fantasizing about the dominant alpha who would make her his mate.

  Maybe it was just lack of food and adequate sleep making her feel much less fanciful, but the reality of it was: Asch was a complete stranger to her. While he’d seemed congenial thus far, she had no idea how he felt about her or what his expectations were. She knew that mating was kinda in the job description of being a mate, but wouldn’t he at least court her first—or did he plan to take her now?

  She let out a squeak of surprise as strong hands encircled her waist. Without faltering in his stride, Asch lifted her into his arms and pulled her against his broad chest.

  “I can smell your fear,” he told her. “Don’t be scared. You’re tired and you need to rest. We won’t be mating tonight.”

  She swallowed hard, trying to remember if werewolves could see in the dark. She hoped not, because her face was probably crimson.

  “I’m not really scared of that, per se,” she murmured against his chest. He smelled like rain and cedar. “I just sort of realized we’re strangers.”

  “I hope that we’ll come to know each other very well,” he replied. She loved the way his chest vibrated with the rumbling timbre of his voice.

  The passageway began to brighten, light spilling out from a hole in the wall. When they reached it, Mila realized it was a doorway, the top half of which was covered by stitched animal pelts. Asch used his free hand to draw them back, and they stepped into her room.

  A large, frameless cot rested on the floor in the back of the room. It was piled high with pillows and knitted blankets of all different colors. Shelves had been meticulously etched into the limestone walls, their flat surfaces bare. A clean draft floated into the room from the single carved window that was opposite the door.

  “Do you like it?” Asch asked, setting her down on the floor.

  “It’s perfect.”

  She kicked off her boots in the doorway and dashed over to the window. The room was situated surprisingly high, giving her a fantastic view of the valley.

  Asch was behind her then, arms coming up around her waist. Her knees weakened again, but this time, it was not out of fear. Her belly quivered at his touch, and she resisted the urge to brush her rear against him.

  It was just too soon.

  “The wolves wanted to put you in a chamber deep inside the den, but somehow I didn’t think you would find that agreeable,” he said with laughter in his voice.

  She grinned up at him. “Thanks.”

  “If there is ever any danger, you may have to stay back there for a few days,” he explained. “But for the most part, Cairn Valley is very safe. No rival packs have ever encroached this far into our territory.”

  Mila listened to him, nodding her acceptance. Everything was still so new to her. She had been so wrapped up in the idea of being a werewolf’s mate that she hadn’t considered all of the elements that would come with it.

  She was part of a pack now. She had territory and rivals. Mila wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about that. She had never even owned real estate before, and for the most part, she got along with everyone, or at least, she used to think she did.

  Mila heard the tap of footsteps and she turned, tilting her body to look past Asch. The pelts hanging over the doorway drew up, and an auburn-haired female stepped in. She was carrying Mila’s bag and a large tray, but all Mila noticed was the fact that she wasn’t wearing any clothes.

  After she got over the initial shock of that, she tried to remind herself that werewolves didn’t typically wear clothes in their den. It was one fact that had always stuck out to her when she’d read
Marie du Luponte’s memoirs, and the thought of it used to make her giggle and blush as a girl.

  As a grown woman who had filled out a little more than she should have, the she-wolf’s nudity disturbed her. The woman’s muscles were toned, her stomach flat, and her breasts taut and perky. It distressed Mila to think that Asch probably saw this goddess of a woman every day and might be disappointed by Mila’s own curvy body.

  “I have brought the human’s things,” the woman announced.

  Mila didn’t know what she should take into contention first, being referred to as “the human” or the fact that the woman was openly glaring at her.

  Asch turned and captured the woman’s gaze. Her unfriendly expression quickly melted into deferential regard.

  “Set them down and take your leave,” Asch ordered. His tone was chilled, and it made Mila’s heartbeat quicken to see the woman shrink beneath his command. She quickly obeyed, setting the bag and tray on the floor and leaving without another word.

  It was so strange seeing the level of control he wielded over his pack. He seemed so human when he spoke that it was easy to forget that he was an alpha wolf. She couldn’t help but wonder if the human side of him was just a façade, a role he was playing to lure her into a false sense of security. Would Asch eventually expect her to submit and obey him like his pack did?

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  Letting go of her hips, he moved to the doorway and picked up the tray. She followed him, her mouth salivating when she caught sight of the thick strips of cooked meat. There was also a glass of water, she noticed, as well as a knife and fork. She accepted it graciously.

  “No promises on how it tastes,” he said, giving her an apologetic look. “The wolves aren’t really used to cooking their meat.”

  “I’m sure it will be fine,” she told him, padding over to the cot.

  She sat down, putting the tray in her lap, and quickly began carving the meat. She recognized the tangy smell of venison, something she had never tried before moving out to the fringes. She had woken up one morning to find her Aunt Gina helping her uncle gut a deer carcass on the front porch—not a memory she would soon forget.