Curves For The Lone Alpha (A Big Girl Meets Bad Wolf Romance)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Epilogue

A Note From The Author

- X -

When you run in a pack you spend so long immersed in the
scent of your kin that you carry them with you when you dream. Their
personality, their mood, their emotions, everything that defines them in
reality persists in the world you visit when you sleep.

The elders teach that dreams are much more than an echo of a
remembered scent. They believe that we all share the same dream. That when a
pack dreams, they dream together. And that this shared dream is a sacred realm.
A place of safety, hidden away from a dangerous world. A place where we can run
free.

When I dream, I dream of fire. Fire and pain and the screams
of my dying kin. My own personal hell. Night after night, I try to reach them,
but the flames are too high and moving too fast.

I see her through the trees. She’s crouching, holding two
pups either side of her. She’s calming them. She’s telling them not to be
scared, even as the flames lick at them and the thick choking smoke curls
around them.

She sees me through the smoke. I want to go to her. To be
with her at the end. She is not my true mate, it was a political union, but she
is still my mate and I still love her. She howls.
Kill them my love. Find
them and kill them all.
She is defiant to the end. It is how I will always
remember her. Then there is an explosion, I don’t know what. Something comes
hurtling towards me and my world flares with pain and then goes dark.

- X -

I woke up covered in a thin sheen of sweat. For a moment I
was back in that fire, choking on the dark smoke and the stench of burning fur.
I ran to the sink and gripped the cold porcelain in both hands as I waited for
the nausea to pass.

I needed coffee. Coffee and a run. A real run. I needed to
get out of the city. Out of these filthy clothes and just run and run until I
couldn’t run any more. I wanted to run and I wanted to hunt. I wanted to kill.

That would have to wait. For now I needed to stay put. I
spent half an hour on pushups and sit-ups, working out until my muscles burned.
It wasn’t the same, but it would have to do.

I couldn’t resist a glance in the mirror on the way to the
shower. Even though I had no pack, I was still an alpha, and with that came a
certain amount of pride in my physical condition.

Unlike regular folk, appearance wasn’t nearly as important.
I didn’t have to be better looking than my rivals. I just had to be able to run
faster and longer.

But out here in the world? I put a hand to my face and felt
the stubble against my palm. I’d been told I was handsome, but a little rough
around the edges. Some people liked that. Some people were intimidated by it. I
bared my teeth and grinned at my reflection. Some people liked to be
intimidated by it.

I was in the middle of a shower when my phone began to, but
I ignored it and took my time. Kent could wait. It was always Kent, my handler.
Kent telling me he wanted to meet. Kent telling me he had a job for me. While I
showered I fantasized about running down Kent and ripping his throat out. This
made me feel better. Almost human. Almost.

- X -

Kent smirked at me over his coffee. He wanted to say
something and I wasn’t in the mood to play games.

“What?” I snarled.

“I was just thinking we should get you a collar or something.
If lost return to the FBI or something like that.”

My handler never tried to hide his disdain for my kind. As
far as he was concerned I was his bitch and he let me know this at every
opportunity. He leaned back and took another sip of his cappuccino. He liked to
think he was unreadable, with his eyes hidden beneath mirrored sunglasses. But
there are other ways to read a man. He could hide his eyes, but he couldn’t
hide his scent. Outrage, disgust and more than a little fear.

“How are you keeping Jimmy?”

“I get by.”

“Still have those nightmares?”

I bared my teeth. He was on thin ice here. Kent may not have
had anything to do with the fire himself, but I was pretty sure he worked for
the people that did. In another life I would have killed him then and there and
taken my chances. But it was hard to maintain my rage. After all, I worked for
them too. A traitor to my own kind.

I had my reasons. I did what I did to ensure the survival of
my race. But working for Kent had another purpose. It brought me one step
closer to the people responsible for burning my pack. There was a war going on.
A bigger picture that I’d only barely scratched the surface of. Working for
Kent brought me another step closer to figuring out who was responsible for
burning my pack… and why.

“Dorothy Ludd,” he said, as he dropped a grisly crime scene
photo on the table between us, “pretty little sixteen year old high school
student. Got mixed up with a bad, bad crowd. Got raped. Got her pretty little
throat ripped out.”

I glanced at the photo but didn’t pick it up.

“According to the papers it was a mountain lion that killed
her. Strayed into town, found himself a pretty little girl, killed her, and
then called it a day. As mountain lions do. Although funnily enough the papers
don’t mention the rape.”

I didn’t need to study the photo. It was obvious at a glance
that this wasn’t a mountain lion.

He dropped a second photo on the table. A big man, shirtless
and covered in tribal tattoos.  I didn’t
recognize him, but his physique screamed shifter.

“Travis Jenkins. A loner like yourself. An animal… like
yourself. Got mixed up in some trouble out west and was facing an aggravated
assault charge when he jumped bail and headed for the hills with his tail
between his legs. We lost track of him for a while, until Miss Ludd crossed our
radar. Turns out that he’s one of Joseph’s boys… and the old man just welcomed
the prodigal child killer back into the tribe with open arms.”

Outrage, disgust, fear. Kent was waiting for my response. He
knew I had a history with this pack and with Joseph, their packmaster. He
wanted to see how I’d react.

“Pack.”

“Huh?”

“Pack, not tribe.”

“Like I give a fuck. Just get in there and deal with Mr.
Jenkins or… well you know what comes next don’t you?”

I grunted. I knew what came next. I’d seen it happen to my
own pack.

“Dead or alive?”

Kent shrugged, “This piece of filth? Like I give a fuck.”

- X -

I had a choice. I could either sit alone in my tiny
apartment bawling my eyes out. Or I could get in the truck and drive to the
gorgeous little cabin in the woods that I’d rented for a dirty weekend away
with my fiance, correction my ex-fiance, and sit alone bawling my eyes out in a
hot tub with a glass of champagne. I’d chosen the latter and was already
regretting it.

First there was what felt like thousands of miles of unpaved
country roads engineered for the sole purpose of bruising my well padded ass.
When it came to maintaining his pick-up I guess my father decided to skimp on
the suspension. He was, for all his faults, a practical man and what normal
folk like you and I might see as an essential, he was just as likely to write
off as an unnecessary luxury.

Then, when I finally arrived, I turned to Mitch to ask him
to grab the bags while I got the kettle on… and he wasn’t there. He wasn’t
there and he’d never be there again and I was going to die alone and unloved.
So I spent the next half hour sitting in the driver’s seat, nursing a bruised
ass and crying.

The final straw? After I was all cried out, I dragged the
bags into the cabin myself only to be reminded that I’d completely forgotten to
repack them. Sure, I was alright for things like lingerie, champagne and some
sexy surprises that are none of your damn business. But not so good for basic
supplies. And certainly not the sort of stuff you’d bring to a self-indulgent
weekend of getting over the fact that you’d just been dumped by your fiance.

Fast forward a couple of hours and I’d managed to throw
together a decent enough dinner that would tide me over until the next day
when, depending how I was holding up, I could either make a run to the store or
just call the whole thing off and head back home.

I tasted my spaghetti sauce and allowed myself a smile.
Yeah, even without all my usual herbs and spices, the girl can cook. Maybe that
was part of the problem. When I glanced over to the patio doors I could clearly
see my own reflection in the glass. I paused for a moment and sighed. Somewhere
along the way I’d managed to convince myself I was attractive. That men dug my
curves. Mitch had always claimed that was what first caught his eye, although
he always said it was my culinary skills that won his heart.

But now? Now I was right back to feeling fat and unwanted
and miserable. Most of all I felt alone. And feeling alone brought back
memories that I really didn’t want to face right now. I raised a tumbler of
lukewarm champagne, toasted my reflection and decided that I’d just head
straight back home in the morning and try and put what was left of my shattered
life back together.

“Here’s to terrible decisions Carrie.”

When I turned to head for the bedroom I felt a twinge in my
lower back. The drive up here had really done a number on it. Usually Mitch and
I would take our time, taking plenty of breaks to stretch our legs and enjoy
the scenery. But I’d driven like a woman possessed for four hours straight and
now I was paying for it.

Hot tub?
That seemed like a good idea. It was a big
part of why I’d booked the cabin in the first place. I like hot tubs.
Hot
tub, then bed, then home
. I nodded to no one in particular and started to
make my way to the bedroom where my suitcase lay open and unpacked.

Except there was no swimsuit. I’d left it at home as part of
a not-particularly subtle “Oops I guess I forgot to pack them, looks like we’ll
have to go without” ploy designed to get the far too conservative for his own
good Mitch naked in the tub with me.

So, that’s how I ended up alone and naked in a hot tub, in
the middle of nowhere, sipping lukewarm champagne out of a plastic tumbler.  All-in-all it wasn’t my finest moment. But
you have to make allowances for the fact that it had been one hell of a day. I
raised my tumbler and toasted a universe that seemed intent on making my life
miserable at every opportunity.

- X -

By the time I had drained half the bottle I was pretty
spaced out. A heady blend of alcohol, heat and exhaustion (both physical and
emotional) was beginning to take its toll. There was a big warning next to the
tub that I had chosen to ignore. It was all
blah blah blah pregnant
something about blood pressure etcetera etcetera NO ALCOHOL!
But everyone
drinks champagne in hot tubs right?