Alpha Breed: Werewolf Bikers (Sex & Violence Book 1) (2 page)

A few young bucks would get drunk, pick a fight, and everyone would cheer them on while they beat the crap out of each other. The thing was that afterwards everyone inevitably ended up being friends again. It was a redneck thing. However, the young woman did not get the impression that this was going to turn out that way. Where there had been two groups sharing music, stories, and a good time there was now a conflict ready to explode. She could see that members of both gangs had gotten to their feet, and it was then that she noticed that almost all of them carried a large hunting knife of one kind or another. Roland and Arn were the only ones not carrying blades on their hips, and as the shirtless men continued to face off their human words began to change in their mouths to the snarls and growls of animals.

Suddenly Brienne was overwhelmed with memories of her recurring dreams, and found herself wondering if she’d fallen asleep and this too was a dream. The eyes of the bikers, from the two leaders to the rest of the gangs, glinted glossy black in the moonlight. The flickering light of the twin bonfires cast feral shadows across their faces, making them appear less and less human. They looked just as much like wolves as they did people, and that was when it struck Brienne like a hammer to the chest. These were the wolves of her dreams, they had to be, it was just too weird to be coincidence. Why else would she have thrown caution to the wind when Roland had slipped his arm around her waist at the party and whisked her away with little more than his animalistic swagger and a few hard looks at the college manboys who’s party he and his gang were crashing.

Thinking back on it, she knew he had sniffed her out, and now his odd yet alluring behaviors, including those of the other bikers, began to make sense. They weren’t people at all, and with that thought she looked down at her mead wondering if it contained something more sinister than alcohol. Her wolf suspicions were confirmed when a bestial roar erupted from Arn’s throat and she could see rows of enlarged and sharp teeth in his open mouth. Arn’s already muscular body seemed to have increased in size in the blink of an eye, and suddenly he crouched low to the ground and spread his hands wide to reveal that his fingers had sprouted what looked like short claws. Brienne could only see Roland’s back, but as she watched his body seemed to swell, with both power and with sheer muscle. The two men had shifted from human beings into something else, somewhere halfway between wolf and man.

Brienne’s hand dropped the mead and she ignored the amber liquid as it splashed onto her foot once it hit the ground. The two shifters howled in voices beyond human and launched themselves at each other. They ripped into each other with claw and fang as they fought, their combat style looking like a strange blend of wrestling and slashing. It was then that she realized they were fighting like animals trapped in mostly human bodies, and suddenly their battle’s significance swept into Brienne’s consciousness. This was her dream, from the otherworldly journey through the moonlit roads to the gathering of wolves, and now the bloody contest between the pack alphas. For what else could they be but alphas? Roland had said they were the alpha breed had he not? As she looked around many of the other bikers from both groups had either shifted into similar half-forms or had transformed themselves into wolves entirely.

Brienne’s knees threatened to give out beneath her as the realization of her dream’s living and breathing reality mixed with the passionate desire surging through her womanhood.

Fucking werewolves were fucking real!

The young woman could feel the moonlight caress her skin with a kind of energy, and as she breathed in she found that the scent of the scene was sharp in her nose. There was power everywhere, flowing as invisible rivers through the land, the trees, and the shifters who stood around the burning fires. The taste of alpha blood was on her lips as the raw energy of the two combatants spilled into the clearing. Brienne fell to her knees and pushed her hands into the dirt as she arched her back and moaned with a mixture of desire and raw exaltation. She felt more alive in that moment that at any other time in her life, as if the sight of the wolves and the knowledge of their existence had unlocked something inside her. It was like a door had opened and from it poured a kind of magic, for what else could it be? She was watching two alpha werewolves battling each other, and if her dreams continued to hold true they fought for the right to breed her.

Soon the winner would take her, and in that moment she wanted nothing more than to be taken. Brienne heard a whelp of pain and opened her eyes in time to see Roland holding Arn above his head and slamming the smaller shifter hard into the dirt. Brienne felt Arn’s body hit the ground as if she was the ground herself. Arn was in a daze, his body slashed and bashed bloody, though he whimpered again and exposed his neck to Roland before the powerful alpha struck him again. The dominant alpha gathered a lungful of air and roared mightily at Arn’s pack as he stood over the defeated alpha’s prone form. Roland then stood up straight and turned away from the scene to return to the fire. When he did the shifter locked eyes with Brienne as she still crouched on all fours in front of the fire.

Roland was sweaty and bloody and filled with the power of his victory, and to Brienne’s eyes it looked as if hundreds of tiny Celtic knots swirled beneath his skin. The sound that came from Brienne’s mouth was something akin to a snarl, though had enough moan in it to display her frenzied arousal. If this was her dream made flesh, then she was going to own it, the young woman thought to herself. She felt just as powerful as the dominant shifter, even if her’s was a different kind of power. In her mind’s eye she could see that Roland was blood and fur and fire, whereas she was the earth itself, the air, and even the silver light of the moon.

All eyes were on the young woman as she stood up and stalked towards Roland as she pulled her top off. She let it fall to the ground and then removed her braw to fling it away as she reached Roland. Once she had drawn close she could see that the dozens of claw marks and bruises he’d endured during his fight with Arn were already beginning to close and heal. Just like the legends this lycanthrope was nearly impervious to physical harm’s longer lasting effects. Brienne boldly reached out and unfastened Roland’s belt, then pulled his jeans and boxer briefs down to his knees as she knelt before him.

Roland let out a low moan that sounded more like a growl as Brienne took hold of his thick shaft and began licking the tip of the shifter’s impressive manhood. The young woman looked up at the alpha and as their eyes met she spoke.

“Howl for me,” said Brienne, and the shifter smiled wickedly as he tilted his head back and drew a deep breath. As he did the young woman took him into her mouth, and the sound of his howl echoed through the forest.

Brienne continued to bob her head back and forth on his member as Roland groaned and brushed her hair out of her face so that he could see himself slide in and out of her gorgeous mouth. The young woman knew that everyone in the camp was watching, and more than that she felt as if the whole of the earth and its creatures bore witness as well. Brienne was caught up in the tempest of energy and fellated her man with renewed gusto, taking the base of his shaft in one hand while cradling his balls in her other. Soon the only sounds in the camp were those of her slurping on his manhood and the crackle of the twin fires as everyone watched their mating with rapt attention.

She was lost in the taste of him, and the particular smell of his shifter nature had become something she could sense, and she wanted as much of it as she could get. Brienne pulled his thick shaft from her mouth and pulled him by the waist down to the ground, then pushed him gently onto his back. The two of them worked furiously to removed the last bits of clothing the two of them had, and then Brienne crawled on top of him. Roland’s hands were still clawed and dreadfully powerful as he gripped her waist while she lowered herself onto his throbbing pillar.

He was so large she felt as if her internal organs were rearranging themselves to cope with his size, and she loved the pleasant struggle to take all of him into her. Within moments she was riding him like a wild beast, all pretense of decorum was lost, and to all the assembled shifters it was clear that Brienne was taking Roland, not the other way around. She felt power unlike anything she’d ever experienced, and the fact that he’d just fought with tooth and claw to win her made the young woman feel even more savagely aroused. Brienne held Roland’s wrists and the two of them worked together to lift her up and slam her down on his manhood as the young woman moaned loudly in ecstasy.

He might be the alpha of this pack, and may have bested a rival shifter, but she was the dominant lover. Brienne, the nineteen year old college girl who had been all but kidnapped from the frat party, rode the violent alpha werewolf like she owned him. Somehow, deep in the core of her being, the young woman knew this was the way it had to be. She had to dominate the alpha with her womanhood, and as the wolf beneath her thrust himself upwards into her she knew that he could feel the energy rising within her.

It was like magic, a deep and old magic from a time before the cities of men or their frail gods. Brienne felt connected to the earth itself, and the hard shifter cock she rode was simply one of the mightier roots that fed the Tree of Life. How this knowledge filled her Brienne could not fathom, but it felt more natural than anything she’d ever experienced in life, as if she’d been fated to be in this camp on this night, riding this man in full view of all.

She could sense the defeated passion of Arn as he brooded by his fire, nursing his wounds and attempting to calm his enflamed desire. The young woman had to admit to that she’d been terribly attracted to him as well, and in all honestly she’d have been fine if he had won the fight. Both men were, in their own way, well suited to pleasing her. Roland seemed to sense her drifting thoughts and growled as he pushed upward and rolled her over onto her back as he pulled out. Brienne responded by arching her back and pushing her bottom up towards him, inviting him to take her from behind while regaining control of their coupling. Roland was only too happy to ram his cock into her even as he looped one of his arms through both of hers and used his other to grip a fistful of her hair. The alpha shifter pulled her head back as he kept pressure on her arms, all the while thrusting hard into her young tight body. Brienne was forced to arch her back deeply to cope with the shifter’s animal intensity.

Never in her life had Brienne been fucked so roughly, in such a primal way, and she found it positively exalting. Her cries of pleasure were louder than Roland’s snarls of desire and soon both of them were pouring sweat from the exertion of so vigorously coupling. After what seemed like a pleasant eternity of body rocking intercourse Brienne could feel the shifter begin to quake with the beginnings of his orgasm. She had been riding the edge of climax herself, and when she felt Roland’s body seize up and the howl grow in the back of his throat the young woman couldn’t hold back any longer.

The night erupted with their simultaneous screams as the shifter and young woman climaxed together under the moon’s silver light, uninhibited and boldly displayed for the world to bear witness. It was only when Roland finally bent over her and planted an upside down kiss on her upturned lips that Brienne remembered she was ovulating. The shifter had just filled her with more seed than she thought a man could contain in a single load, and her wildly expanded awareness could see the energy patterns that were even now swirling across her mid-section. The two of them collapsed in a naked heap and lay in each other’s arms in the cool green grass as the assembled shifters went back to their party.

As the two of them lay there Arn and his pack pulled up stake and gunned the engines of their motorcycles to life. A few of them said their farewells and within a few minutes the roar of their bikes faded into the humid Georgia night. Brienne could hear the other two girls talking in hushed tones, and soon the shifter called Womack and another hefted the very drunk girls onto their bikes. By dawn they’d be back in their dorm rooms with serious hangovers and a grand tale to tell, which somehow Brienne knew they wouldn’t, given that while she lay in Roland’s arms she saw that both of them had been rather unfaithful to their boyfriends with more than a few of the feral and alluring shifters.

After what could only have been a few hours of sleep Brienne awoke as the dawn light crept over the trees, bathing she and Roland’s still naked bodies in a soft orange light. The mental fog of the mead had faded from her system, though her awareness of the energy patterns swirling about the world had not, in fact they seemed to have become even more potent.  

“I can see things now, energies that I couldn’t before, and somehow I know they were always there, and I think maybe I could always see them, I just didn’t know it,” whispered Brienne as she ran a finger delicately up and down Roland’s muscular chest, “Something changed the moment I knew you were werewolves, or shifters I guess. I have to admit though I’d be more scared and worried I was crazy if I couldn’t see all the energy.”