My Alphas: The Complete Series
My Alphas (BBW Werewolf Ménage Paranormal Erotic Romance)
Get FREE ebooks (and other stuff)
More titles from Emily Cantore
Everything I’ve Ever Written
Published at Smashwords by Emily Cantore
Copyright 2015 Emily Cantore. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.
Emily Cantore
Email
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
My Alphas
A decade ago, 15-year old Cass Green was saved from certain death by two teenage werewolves. Now, after a lifetime of aching for the touch of fur on her face, she is hiking out into the wilderness, searching for the two Alphas who rescued her.
All too quickly she finds them - Edon, a handsome and somewhat civilized Alpha and Rey, a dominant and wild brute. Both werewolves are absolutely gorgeous. Both dangerous. Both utterly overwhelming.
They are Alphas of the Arctos Pack, sharing leadership… and everything else. They imprinted on her all those years ago and are willing to fight to the death for the chance to mate with the curvy girl who has wandered into their territory - starting right now!
My Alphas, Part One
Studies show in the vast majority of cases werewolf attacks on human settlements are exaggerated. In some cases it has been found humans committed the attacks and seek to blame it on werewolves for the purposes of retaliation or to enact restrictive government policies.
Humans who enter werewolf territory are usually left alone. If they get too close to the pack den then they will be escorted away, by force if necessary. It is illegal for any human to come within ten miles of a known werewolf den.
Maria Filippo
, Teeth at the Border: The Truth about Werewolves and Humans
Rey stood behind the tree, perfectly still, watching the boar snuffle in the leaf litter. They were far from the den so this kill wouldn’t be carried back to feed the pack. It would be a pleasure kill only. He wanted to run, attack, to feel bone crunch, to taste blood.
It was a far more pleasurable thought than the one that had risen up the instant he’d caught the girl’s scent: kill his friend Edon and take the girl for his own.
The girl. She’d entered Arctos territory two days ago and their scouts, Nia and Tala, had been watching her since then. She was slowly making her way toward their den. Most humans gave up after a day and turned around on their own without ever seeing a werewolf. They hoped she would turn back.
The last human who had come they’d found dead, mutilated. The Turo pack was blamed but no proof was found. They had dropped a scent bomb, a strong mixture of peppermint oil and chemicals to cover their tracks.
Rey cared little if humans died in the wilderness but had reluctantly agreed with Edon they had an obligation to prevent it. Human deaths equaled human attention and human attention all too often led to men with guns. The Turo pack were trying to pin the blame on them and it would work because the humans didn’t care which pack was responsible when it came time for vengeance. Edon, unfortunately, was right.
Edon, that mangy cringing dog. Weak, useless pretend Alpha who had shared leadership of the Arctos pack for five years with Rey. Forget the boar and put that cur down, rip his throat-
“We cannot hunt now. We must deal with the girl.”
Rey snarled and turned to face his friend. He was in human form and would be easy to kill.
The boar heard the snarl and ran away as fast as it could. Rey fought the urge to chase, to bring it down, to rip its throat out and taste its hot blood.
It wasn’t the only urge he was fighting. He wanted all things. To leap at Edon and kill him. To pursue the boar and taste its blood. To clamber down the rocks to the human and rut with her on the grass.
Rey shook his head at this last urge and forced himself to look away from Edon. A madness had come over him. Although he and Edon had rutted with human females many times when they were teenagers, Rey now preferred female werewolves. They were strong and sometimes fought and had to be overwhelmed to rut. Humans were soft and weak. Quivering flesh that the lightest touch would bruise. He’d barely felt any desire toward humans and had mostly rutted in competition with Edon. He’d especially not felt any possessiveness over them. They had rutted together, sharing humans many times and it had meant nothing.
But now…
He’d caught the girl’s scent before anyone else and it was pulling at some deep part of him. It was familiar but he couldn’t place it. Even the hint of it was intoxicating and he felt the desire to shift to human so he could tell Edon what it was doing to him. Edon was calm and usually knew what to say to him. But he didn’t want to shift. He wanted to attack.
Edon, that mangy -
“You’ll be staying as a wolf then?”
Rey didn’t look at him as he nodded assent. Instead, he looked down to the human clambering over rocks and a low growl filled this chest.
*
“Just keep swimming, just keep swimming,” Cass recited to herself as she climbed over a mossy boulder. She was about to repeat it again when she slipped and both feet ended up ankle deep in muddy water. She held her balance for a split second before losing it and sitting straight down in the mud.
Since she’d left Hinton, the line stolen from an animated movie to bolster her spirits and keep her going had become a mad chant. And it was so muddy and wet she felt she
was
swimming half the time.
Cass stood up and slopped her way out of the mud, ignoring the chill aching through her feet. Only a little farther to a grass clearing. There was still a pair of dry socks somewhere in her backpack and a thermos that held a few mouthfuls of hot black coffee she’d brewed up over a tiny campfire this morning.
Oh god, coffee.
It was one of about a thousand things she sorely missed. Hot showers. Dry clothes. Cooked meals. Hinton was three days behind her and Cass was starting to think the old Sheriff she’d run into had been one hundred percent right about everything.
She’d only been in Hinton for an hour when Sheriff Harmony had stopped her on the street, peered into her eyes and asked her if she was intending on “going traipsing off into the wilderness to meet werewolves”. She’d lied and told him no. He’d ignored that and spent a good ten minutes describing how stupid and foolish and dumb and idiotic and every other synonym in the thesaurus of an idea it was and how she’d end up dead at the fangs and claws of a werewolf or of exposure. In the end though, seeing she was going no matter what, he’d directed her to Wyatt’s Camping Store, telling her to get some warmer clothes and to carry a lot of food. He’d also told her not to bother getting a gun. It wouldn’t be any use against a werewolf.
At the time, Cass thought he was being dramatic. Putting on his show to stop girls walking off into the wilderness. Now she was wet through to the bone and couldn’t seem to get warm, she was considering maybe the old man had been right.
At least about the exposure part.
So far she’d seen no signs of werewolves. No tracks or marks of any kind. She’d seen some bark missing from low down on a tree and had concluded it was a boar rather than a-
werewolf
Cass shivered at the thought as she walked up on to the grass, feeling the warm sun beaming down on her. She was cold, yes, but the shiver came from within her, lodged deep in the past.
Ten years ago, at the age of fifteen, she wandered out into this same wilderness. Her parents were back at their decrepit campervan sleeping off another night of drinking and fighting. Back then she was definitely a candidate for dead in the wilderness in thirty seconds. She’d had no food or water, no camping gear and was wearing only shorts, a tank top and some very worn runners.
She’d walked three hours in a dead straight line away from civilization, not caring what happened to her. Then, as she was squatting down beside a creek scooping freezing water up in her hands to drink, she’d heard a growl from the other bank.
A wolf, taller than she was, black with gray streaked down its sides had stepped out of the forest and was looking at her. She’d frozen, fear clenching in her belly, knowing she couldn’t run nor fight. She knew instantly it was a werewolf and it intended to kill her.
The werewolf had moved and then there was a gap and she sat up from the ground, head ringing, tasting blood and dirt in her mouth and hearing wild roars.
Three werewolves only a few feet away fighting in a vicious tumble. The black and gray wolf shot out of the pile and crashed against a tree with shocking force. It was on its feet in an instant.
Facing off against it were two smaller wolves. One was pure black and the other a coppery red. Although smaller than the black and gray werewolf, they were still enormous compared to Cass. She knew, without knowing how, that they were male.
They roared together at the black and gray werewolf who roared back before turning tail and disappearing into the forest.
Cass had tried to stand as they approached her but her head was aching and her legs had turned to jelly. She couldn’t even scream as the copper wolf grabbed the back of her shorts in his jaws and lifted her up. He placed her on the back of the black wolf and she sat there, frozen, her hands clenched shut, along with her eyes.
Then, a voice.
“Don’t be afraid. We will return you to your family.”
She’d opened her eyes but only found the red werewolf looking at her with his light hazel eyes. He must have shifted, spoken and shifted back.
They were going to help her…
The black werewolf started walking and the motion forced her to open her hands to grip on to his fur. It was soft between her fingers and she tried not to clench, lest she upset him. They started slowly but soon were moving at a fast pace through the forest.
Her head was still aching and she could still taste blood and dirt but overlaid on that was the scent of the two wolves. Her face was against the black one’s fur and she couldn’t help but to breathe in. Mixed in the scent of… male, tree, something spicy… was also blood. She looked down and saw the fur on his shoulder was matted with it. He was injured.
Feeling sick and drowsy, she’d closed her eyes and held on to the werewolf as they moved through the forest. She’d walked for three hours but it seemed in no time at all they had stopped and she was within sight of the rusted campervan her family were currently calling home.
The black werewolf knelt down and she slipped off him, her legs still shaky. The red werewolf moved close to steady her as her legs gave way and she collided with him. Fur. Pine. Earth. Male. Blood.
She pulled herself off him, her heart pounding, one hand on the black werewolf, one hand on the other. Although she still felt terrible, a sentence came burbling up from nowhere.
Take me with you
. It didn’t make it past her lips though. Her father chose that moment to come bursting out of the campervan, shotgun in hand and started shouting obscenities.
The two werewolves left her then on the forest edge and departed. Although her father was yelling and gesticulating wildly with the gun, she felt a strange serenity come over her. She ignored him and turned back to the forest.
There in the distance, silhouetted by the dying light, were two men looking back at her. In the glare she couldn’t see their features. One had copper hair glowing in the sunlight. The other had hair so dark it almost merged with the dim between the trees. She saw a flash of naked skin before she blinked and they were gone.