Destined for the Alpha (13 page)

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Authors: Winifred Lacroix

BOOK: Destined for the Alpha
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It was twenty minutes before George came back, Catherine was half asleep against Philippe when she smelled food, her head on her shoulder, drowsily watching the words on the pages as he scanned through them. He nudged her back awake and she rubbed her eyes to see George with a silver cart full of food, various meats and vegetables, it looked like a dinner fit for a king. This was much more than John had ever brought from the kitchens. Although, when she looked back on it, he only brought her food that she could have handled after so much blood loss, fresh fruits and the like.

She watched him lay food out for them on the small coffee table and he filled a glass snifter full of brandy, the amber liquid glittering in the fire that had significantly died down from earlier. "Do you need anything Miss Catherine?" George asked as he handed her some utensils.

She shook her head and looked at all the food. Her stomach growled, as if it suddenly realized she was hungry. Everything was almost exquisite, she felt like she would never eat such good food in her life, after George cleared her plate off of her table he placed a slice of cake in front of her which she almost protested "We are of French heritage," Philippe explained as she debated on the cake "Food is what we do best."

Eventually she gave in and ate the cake too. "Oh that was too much food!" She protested as she laid out on the couch, her head on Philippe’s lap. He brushed the hair out of her face and smiled down at her. "Sleep now ma petit chiot, Cordelia will not be back this night."

She rolled over so she could still see out the window, thinking that somehow she would be able to see Peter return under cover of darkness, but with Philippe gently stroking her hair and the crackling of the fire she eventually fell asleep in his care.

It was with a bang she woke up, a gasp as she realized it could be Cordelia. Philippe hushed her and held her still. George was standing up ready to pounce and her heart was racing. How could she be back so early? It was still night, the moon was low in the sky, so it must be the young hours of the day. "Where is she?" a furious cry from down the hallway, she recognized it from anywhere. Peter had returned "Catherine!"

She exhaled and relaxed against Philippe who resumed stroking her hair and reading a book. "What have you done to her you worthless Frenchman?"

"Relax." Philippe’s voice reverberated through her and she smiled. Everything was alright after all. "She's here with me."

She sat up and turned to greet her alpha and fell off the couch in horror, he was covered in blood. His shirt was stained, it was on his face, his arms, and she hadn't felt him get those wounds so she presumed it wasn't his own. "Wh-"

Philippe stood up "You don't even have the decency to clean up before you come in here?"

"What happened?!" She screeched from the floor backing up into George who looked confused by the girl on the floor

Peter grabbed her wrist and she looked up at him, he was a demon, a blood soaked demon in disguise, did he kill people? animals? "Are you hurt?"

She wrenched her wrist from his hand "Get away from me! What have you done?!" It was still wet the blood was still wet on his hands and some got on her arm.

"I felt it, what did you do? Who hurt you?" Peter insisted and she stared up at him in horror.

"Go wash up, mutt and come get your pup later." Philippe cut in sounding bored but he was watching Catherine with concern.

"You did this!" Ivan cut in from the doorway "There is blood all over you."

"At least I didn't bathe in it." George muttered under his breath and Philippe smirked

"As you can see she is unharmed, and was almost asleep until you ran in here like a bull in a china shop."

Catherine looked away, drawing her knees to her chest. "What have you done, Peter?"

"What we were supposed to do, there was a problem on some of our land that we had to take care of." He was being purposely vague "It is what we do."

"I am supposed to be a part of a gang of murderers?!" She cried and the whole room fell silent, she could hear Peter's heavy breathing.

"Catherine." his voice was pleading "I am…we are not gentle creatures, but you are my mate."

"I don't want to be mated to someone who thinks that it's acceptable to hurt others!"

She heard an irritated growl and was picked up and hoisted over his shoulder, she beat on his back "Let me go!" Philippe made a motion towards her but one low growl from Ivan made him stop

"Come back any time." He finally waved, she saw George saying something low to his alpha but Philippe shook his head as the group of wolves trailed down the hallway.

She hit Peter again on the back "Let me go!"

"Alpha-" John began, he was in better shape than most of them, a red streak of blood splatter was on his pants but otherwise he was clean.

"Shut up omega, or I'll give you reason." Peter snapped, a tight grip on her legs, she felt the wet blood from his shirt seep into her dress.

Catherine was hanging upside down, thrown over Peter's shoulder like meat, covered in blood, and tired. Her clan was full of vicious murderers and she was trapped. Frustrated, scared, and tired, she kept hitting her alpha until she couldn't anymore and broke into tears. "Let me go Peter!"

He stopped and she heard him bust open a door and watched him kick it shut, the room was dark and all she could hear was his heavy breathing.

She was thrown onto the bed and screamed unsure where Peter was in the room. "Get away!" she cried scooting back on the bed as quickly as she could. The bed ran out from underneath her and she felt herself fall off but before she hit the ground a strong hand grabbed her ankle.

"Don't you dare, my Catherine." He growled in the dark and she shrieked. Her alpha, always gentle, always considerate, was a killer.

"Please," she sobbed as he dragged her back on the bed "Let me go."

He crawled on top of her, she felt the bed shift in the pitch-black room. He pinned her hands above her head, and with his free hand he ripped her dress, soaked with a mixture of bloods, slowly from the bodice down to between her thighs. He was going to do worse than hurt her, he was going to rape her. She cried harder, little hiccups and wails punctuating each sob. "Don't hurt me!" He stilled above her, before she felt him get off of her. He must be sitting somewhere else on the bed. "Never would I hurt you." his voice was quiet, and…sad?

She felt his thumb wipe tears off of her face and then he moved again, suddenly the room was filled with light, he had lit a lamp on the nightstand. She was almost naked and crying in the middle of the large bed on top of a polar bear pelt. Peter wiped his face again, trying to make himself look more presentable.

"Where are you hurt? I know it, I felt it. Who hurt you?" His hands pulled the rest of her dress apart and he studied her body for any wound but found none.

"I'm healed." she sniffed, rubbing more tears that were spilling from her eyes. His hands ran over her body in a frantic search for imperfections and frowned when he found none.

"How?" He seemed to have calmed down once he was assured that his mate was okay.

"The doctor came, Frederick, he gave me medicine and-" the words flooded from her mouth frantic and afraid still of the large and bloody man who was sitting next to her. Her heart dropped, the tincture of silver, it was still on Philippe’s bedside table.

"Why did he have to come at all? What did Phi-"

"Cordelia." she cut him off and she heard him take a sharp breath inward.

There was a long pause between the two of them "How?" his voice was quiet.

"She sliced Philippe’s arm open with a silver dagger, I had to save him. I performed a ritual and-"

"How many times must I tell you that your blood should be spilled for no one!" He shouted at the girl who was now lying exposed on his bed.

For the first time, she realized that Peter was not just a wolf, but he was a wolf who could easily kill her if he had the inclination to. Catherine knew she couldn't back down "He would have lost an arm just to protect me!"

"as he should!"

"No one should be hurt on my behalf!" She cried, Peter whipped around.

He straddled her and pinned her shoulders down to the bed, making her whimper in pain "You are mine. God dammit Catherine, I don't want anything to happen to you! Stop giving yourself to others, give all of yourself to me!"

She looked up at him, he was desperate, he was scared, he was covered in blood and painfully frightened of the small girl he had pinned beneath him. "Peter." she breathed, in awe of how much power she had over this wolf.

"I'm sorry Catherine, I don't want to scare you, I just-I just want you safe and I can't even do that." He got off of her and walked over towards the dead fireplace. "Cordelia will never get near you again, it's your blood she's after little cat."

"I know," she said sitting up and pulling her bloody dress back together "I know."

She walked past him into the bathroom and turned on the faucet, drawing a bath for her distressed mate. He closed the door that adjoined the two rooms together.

"What am I Peter?" she asked sitting on the ledge of the bath. "Why am I here?"

He slid into the bath, the water turning deep red "You know why I can't tell you why you're here. Not until after your changing."

She did remember those terrible headaches that plagued her when she attempted to try and recall anything before she woke up with Peter. "Helian wolves are powerful sages that know rites of healing and medicine. Their blood is considered to be an elixir but it must be given and not stolen, or else it's worthless."

"So I'm like a doctor?"

"You're far more than a doctor." He replied beginning to wash the blood out of his hair "You're a sage. You cure the sick, you can revive the dead. You only come once every few generations. The myths say that you must be born a wolf, but-"

"I wasn't."

"You weren't. The elders, the sages, even Cordelia know that you are not a normal Helian as foretold by the myths. No one knows what you are."

"What do you mean no one knows what I am? Philippe said and Cordelia-"

"No one knows for sure, they want to perform tests once you change, right now you're weak, and human, and volatile." Peter looked down at the water, now a deep red. He tugged Catherine into the water, hugging her against him as she squirmed "Peter this water is practically blood."

"Stay near me, for just a second." She stilled at his words, trying her hardest to ignore the fact that she was in a bath of blood.

"We are known as a violent clan. When something threatens the compound, when dirty work must be done, when negotiations go awry, we have to come and clean it up. We are efficient killers and I'm sorry that you have to be a part of that." She pushed away from him but he held her still, tears falling down her face "Just as Philippe gets his clan good food and good lodging through his wit, I get ours through blood. It is all for you my little mate, everything I do is to keep you safe and no harm will ever come to you in my care."

He held her against his broad chest, stroking her back until she had quieted against him, inhaling her scent as they laid in the bath. She kissed his shoulder and felt his cock stir. He was always so desirous of her. She kissed him again and his hand stilled on her back, his breath hitching as her soft lips made contact with his skin. She liked doing this to him, she wanted him to need her the way she needed him. He was not fearsome when he was with her, but rather gentle and caring. She kissed him again, her lips traveling up his shoulder until they reached the juncture between his neck and her shoulder. “What is it Cat?” he half moaned, half growled, his cock growing hard between her legs, she pushed back against him, causing him to jerk upwards from his relaxed position.

She kissed up his neck, each time her lips met his hot skin he made a small noise and she found that she liked each and every one. Peter was no longer a fearsome wolf but a kitten beneath her, gasping and whimpering each time her lips met his sensitive skin. She rarely took charge with him, and she wondered if he enjoyed when his small mate took advantage of him. He had gotten hard underneath her, but she tried to ignore his need pressing against her insistently, instead kissing up his jawline. Her lips lingering on his skin longer and longer, his stubble tickling her soft skin. Finally she found his lips, kissing them lightly, her lips meeting his eager ones. His tongue seeking hers. His hands, still before, found confidence and rested on her hips, unable to make her move but impatient enough to press his hips into hers. She felt that familiar heat begin to flare up inside of her. She broke the kiss reluctantly, her breath speeding up as his hands travelled up her sides, brushing against the swell of her breasts and instantly making her toes curl underneath her. His fingers easily played her like an instrument, brushing against her small pink nipples, causing them to pucker as he played with her. She moaned his name and his hips jerked up at the sound, causing the blood red water to splash over the edges. His rough hands on her small white breasts were heaven, the friction only causing her to press herself into his touch eagerly. She felt him lift her up out of the bath water, the cold air of the room causing goose bumps to appear on her flesh. She looked down at him. His features were soft, even though she could tell that he was holding back. He positioned his cock at her entrance and she was eager to take him in, but he did not let her move, he waited until she was begging, until she struggled against him, to press inside of her. The pressure of his large member felt exquisite, even if it was a little painful at first. She wanted it all, she wanted him to consume her, to possess her. Every inch he slipped inside of her made her entire body pulse with pleasure. She loved feeling him, and when he finally was seated entirely within her, she felt as if she would fall apart around him. Catherine fell forward on him, no longer in control, but just for his pleasure.  He wrapped his arms around her and thrust into her, his teeth easily finding her bite mark.

“Mine, my mate.” he whispered, only loud enough for her to hear and his teeth sunk easily into her mark, causing her to tighten around him and her body to melt. She felt him begin to pump in and out of her rougher, each thrust was no longer for her pleasure but for her possession. She was slack against him as long as his teeth were inside of her marking. His moans turning into animalistic growls that made her body respond eagerly. She felt the familiar tightening of her lower stomach, all of her muscles were tense, her whole body wound into a tight spring. His teeth withdrew from her body.

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