The Alpha’s Tempting Mate

Tank

A half hour into the journey, and I want to throttle her. Well, not really. I just want to shut that smart mouth up with my tongue. No, my cock. Actually, my dick wouldn’t mind thoroughly claiming other parts of her. Every available orifice. That would be about the only thing that could put a dent in my bad mood. And blue balls.

But as hot as I find Foxfire, as much as my wolf is into her, I can’t go all in with this girl. First of all, she’s a little nutty. Adorably nutty, but still. She’s the type my dad warned me about. He beat his variation of bros before hos into me so many times, I recognize the signs of getting swept away by a female.

Never put a female before pack, son. They’ll ruin everything for you.

I fear he’s right. I’m already making bad decisions because of her. Garrett is in crisis right now, and I’m his second in command. I should be holding down the fort, checking in on Eclipse, and standing by for orders. Instead, I’ve wrapped a thug up in a rug and loaded him in my truck, and I’m driving four hours to Flagstaff.

Because of a girl.

Granted, she’s a very hot, fascinating girl with the most fuckable mouth I’ve ever seen. But I can’t go there with her.

Humming to herself, Foxfire props her legs on my dashboard. They are a mile long and all delicious bare flesh because she’s still wearing those goddamn short shorts. I’m pretty sure if she keeps them up there, I will crash the truck trying to lean over and lick them.

“Legs off,” I order. I sound grumpier than I mean to.

It doesn’t affect her, except to turn it up a notch. “You got it, Big D.” She slips them under her, grinning as if she lives to get a rise out of me.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” I warn her, but it’s myself I’m giving a talking to. “We’re going to get to Flagstaff, question this guy, and check on your mom.” And be back before my pack wonders where I’ve gone.

I left a message with Garrett, and tried Jared and Trey, but I’ve still heard nothing from them. It’s a little worrying. But they’re big wolves who can take care of themselves.

Meanwhile, I’m stuck on a road trip with Little Miss Sunshine. How did I get talked into this?

Oh yeah. Because my wolf won’t let her alone. I can’t stand a human male touching her, much less threatening her. And two humans already have in the past hour. A wolf shifter, even one from my pack? Forget about it.

“This is so exciting. My first road trip with a werewolf.” She dances in her seat. She’s taken off her hoodie, and her nipples press against the thin fabric of her shirt.

My cock wants to dance with her.

“Settle,” I growl. What was I thinking, agreeing to being alone with her for a four hour trip? She’s a beautiful foxy lady, and I’m a hot-blooded wolf. “We need to be careful. It’s not a good idea to rile my wolf up.”

“What? Why?”

“Full moon.”

“What happens then?” Her voice drops. “During your time of the month?”

I snort at her term for it. “We don’t have to shift, but we want to. Females usually go into heat.”

“Like get really horny?”

“Yeah.”

“I get it. You’re afraid you’ll jump me. So what’s the big deal?”

~.~© NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

Foxfire

His hands clench the steering wheel so hard, he’s gonna leave imprints if he’s not careful. “That’s… not going to happen.”

“Yeah. I’m hearing you don’t want it to. What’s the big deal?” I thought he could give it as good as he got it back at my place.

He mutters something under his breath.

“Wait, do you have a wife stashed somewhere? Little Tank babies?” My voice is light, defying the shrieking pain clutching my heart.

“No.”

Relief. I try not to show it. I lean back with a smile.

“Look, this isn’t a date. You’re a shifter, and your mom’s in trouble. We could be walking into a dangerous situation. We both need to keep our heads on straight.” He looks at me like he’s not sure mine is ever on straight. It’s a look I’m used to receiving.

He must’ve seen a flash of hurt on my face, because his gaze softens. “I think we can ask her about you being a shifter, and get you to your kin.”

Kin. I can’t even wrap my head around that.

The highway signs flash by. We’re approaching Phoenix.

“What about your pack?” I ask after a few minutes of silence.

“What about them?”

“I mean, they’re like your family, right?”

“Closer than family. Pack is blood. Blood is pack,” he recites.

“Right. Why not get them to help? You know with-” I motion to the bed of the truck, where the gunman is tied and gagged.

“I don’t need them to handle this.”

“But what about Garrett? Don’t you have to report to him or something?”

“Garrett’s busy. One of our pack mates is missing, and he’s searching for her. And no, I don’t need his permission. He’s the alpha, but he trusts me. I’m high enough in the pack, I only answer to him.”

“There’s a hierarchy.”

“Yep. The more dominant your animal, the higher you tend to get in the pack.”

“So where would I be in the pack?”

“At the bottom. You’re small and a weaker shifter.”

I slump a little.

“It’s not a bad thing. All packs need submissive wolves. They hold the pack together. Dominant wolves, we fight all the time, learn our place. That’s why roles in stable packs are strictly enforced. Otherwise we’d tear each other apart. Submissive wolves don’t pose that threat to dominant ones. We want to protect them.”

“Do you want to protect me?”

His jaw clenches, and he doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t have to-I already know. He feels like he has to protect me. But he doesn’t want to. My game of annoying him has been successful. I should be happy, right? This is a ploy I’ve used my whole life. Act weirder than they already think I am. Beat them to the punch of calling me freak. Own it.

Somehow it just makes me feel a little sick at the moment. What kind of woman does Tank prefer? I picture a tall, blonde she-wolf. I want to kill her. Maybe I’m not as submissive as he thinks.

I fall silent, mostly to give him a break.

As we push through Phoenix, Garrett follows the signs to get on I-17 north to Flagstaff. He clears his throat. “In a few hours we’ll be in Flagstaff. Where does your mother live?”

“Um…”

He nods to the GPS. “Plug in the address.”

“That’s the thing.” I wrinkle my nose. “She moves around a lot.”

“Where’s her house?”

“She doesn’t have one. After I moved out, she downsized to an Airstream trailer. You know,” I hasten to explain when Tank looks blank. “Those silver travel trailers that people use to go camping cross country-”

“I know what an Airstream is. You’re telling me your mother lives in one, year round?”

“Mmhmm.”

“What does she do for work?”

“She’s an artist, mostly.”

Tank heaves a heavy sigh.

“I’ll put in her last known parking place. She should be somewhere around Flagstaff. Sometimes she parks near the Grand Canyon to sell to tourists there.”

“On a designated camping ground?”

“Uh, sure,” I say in a tone that means probably not.

Another sigh.

“What are you going to do with this guy?” I hitch a thumb behind me, indicating the truck bed and incapacitated thug.

“Going to question him.”

“He’s been out a while. Maybe you hit him too hard.”

“He’s fine.”

Tank pulls out his phone.

A gruff male voice answers.

“Tank here. Do we still have the safe house in New River?

“Thanks. I’m using it for the next two hours. I’ll explain later.” He hangs up, and, for the next few miles, he looks so grim I don’t dare ask him anything. I hope he’s not in trouble with his pack.

Thirty minutes out of Phoenix, something in the truck bed goes thump. And keeps thumping.

“Uh oh,” I say as Tank swears. “I think the mafia man woke up.”

“Too soon. Didn’t dose him enough.”

“Dose him?”

“Hang on.” The hammering continues as Tank takes the exit.

“This was a damned stupid idea,” he mutters.

I curl up on the seat. “Where are we taking him?”

“A safe house. Private.”

We’re certainly in the middle of nowhere.

The banging has stopped. For now. “Did you really expect him to stay unconscious this whole time?”

“I dosed him.”

“Dosed him?”

“Tranquilizer.”

My eyebrows crawl up to my hairline. “You carry that stuff?”

“Yeah.” He glances behind my seat where his black bag lives, full of duct tape and heavy sedatives. “Werewolves aren’t always in control. Sometimes their wolf… goes funny.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. So we take precautions.”

“Have you… dosed anyone before?”

“Yeah.” He looks uncomfortable.

“Not just wolves,” I guess. “Humans?”

“The world can’t know about us.”

I lick my lips. “Tank? Are you going to tell your pack about me?”

“Yeah. My alpha’s out of town, but eventually I will report to him. I’ll have to. He’ll smell you on me and will want to know what happened.”

“What will he do? Will he let me into the gang?”

“There’s no gang. Just the pack.”

“And?”

“Foxfire, I don’t know. You’re not a wolf, baby. To come into a pack, you need a sponsor. Someone to vouch for you. Otherwise, you’re suspicious. A shy shifter like you-

“I’m not shy.”

“Your fox is shy,” he clarifies. “Shifters have rank in a pack. A new shifter has no rank. That means they’re fair game for dominance attacks.” He cuts a glance to me. “I’ll explain more later.”

“Okay. But, if you tell the alpha about me… couldn’t you be my sponsor?”

His fingers drum the wheel. “Maybe.”

His reluctance hurts more than I care to admit. I’ve spent my entire life flying my freak flag, precisely because I know no one wants me in their club. I’m different. At least now I know why I’m different. How I’m different. But I guess it’s too much to believe I’d fit in with other shifters just because I have a tail. They still don’t want me.

We pull into a hidden driveway. Tank’s shoulders relax a fraction. The thumping starts again. As we bounce down the gravel road, I hear muffled shouts. The thug must have loosened the tape over his mouth.

We ride around a wooded bend, and a tiny log cabin comes into view.

I gasp. “This is so cute.”

“No one’s supposed to know about this place except pack.”

“You gonna get in trouble for bringing me here?”

Instead of answering, Tank grabs his black bag and gets out of the car. I scramble to follow, but when we reach the trunk, he puts out his hand. “Stand back, baby.”

I take a step to the side.

He starts to open the tailgate and pauses. “Go stand over there.” He points to a rock a few feet away.

“Why?”

“You know why. It’s not safe.”

“He’s already seen me.”

Tank whirls and picks me up, carrying me until my back hits a tree. He presses his hard body against mine. “Baby, are you going to stay right here while I deal with him, or do I have to tie you to this tree?”

My foxy bits throb, nipples tighten. Tie me up, big man. My lips part but no sound comes out. I’m staring at his lips, so supple considering what a manly-man he is. I want him to kiss me.

He does.

It’s a hard, punishing kiss, and when he pulls away his eyes gleam yellow. He points a finger at me, his lips quirking. “Stay.”

I roll my eyes but obey, happy I have a front row seat. I watch from a safe distance as Tank pulls open the bed, grabs the guy’s feet, and yanks him out.

My gut clenches as Tank grapples with his captive, but he’s a half a foot taller and fifty pounds heavier than the big thug. In no time, the man’s on his knees, bound with tape.

“What the fuck?” the thug says.

“Shut up.” Tank smacks him. “See this place?” he points. The truck is between the man and the cabin, so all he sees is wilderness around an empty road. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. You have no rights. What did you want with the girl?”

“Foxfire Hines?”

Tank smacks him again. I cower a little; even though I know the controlled rage on Tank’s face isn’t directed at me.

“You don’t speak her name. As far as I’m concerned, she doesn’t exist for you after this moment.”

“All right all right! It was the job, man, the job.” The thug babbles for a few seconds until Tank cuts him off.

“What job?”

“I don’t know. I got orders-get the girl, tie her up, get her into the trunk, and take her to the drop-off.”

“Who else?”

“No one else. Just the girl. And I wasn’t supposed to hurt her, just get her to the place, alive. I don’t know anything else, I swear.”

The more the thug talks, the more Tank looks like he’s gonna murder him. “Where’s the drop-off point?” he growls in a voice barely human.

The thug names an address.

I scramble to write it down. As my pen scrapes, the thug cranes his head my way.

Tank smacks him again and puts a hood over the man’s head, securing it with duct tape. The man struggles but ends up on the ground, hogtied and helpless. Tank leaves him on the ground and comes my way.

“Go wait in the cabin. The key is under the mat.”

“You gonna torture him?” I whisper.

“No. I’ll dose him and drop him on the edge of town. He doesn’t know anything. I already sent his plates and information to someone who can get more info on him. He’s a local thug, and he’s telling the truth.”

“How do you know?”

“I can smell it if he lies.”

I shiver.

“Baby, go wait in the cabin.”

When Tank comes in to get me, he’s on the phone with someone named Jackson, reading off the address the thug gave us. “You can text me what you find.”

I follow him out, and he motions for me to get in the truck. The thug is already in, the black bag behind my seat. “All right. Thanks.”

“Who was that?” I ask when he hangs up.

“Friends. They’re good at digging stuff up on the Internet. They’re gonna look deeper and tell me what’s going on.”

“Werewolves?”

“Yeah, but not pack.”

“You’re helping a lot,” I say as Tank climbs in.

He grunts and rummages around the scary black bag. I hold my breath, but he only tosses me a protein bar.

“Thanks. Got any water?”

Tank offers a bottle up but pulls it away when I reach for it.

“We’re not stopping until Flagstaff,” he warns.

I grin. “I just peed, but thanks for the warning.” He rolls his eyes while I smirk, but I only take a few sips from the bottle before closing it up. No sense stopping while we have a drugged guy in the back.

We’re off the main route now, taking back roads. Trees whip by. How many wolves roam this national forest? Coyotes? Foxes?

“You said before that my fox is shy?” I ask.

“I think she hid until she knew it was safe to come out.”

“How did she know it was safe?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Was it because she sensed your wolf? Or was scared of your wolf?”

More miles go by. Tank’s profile doesn’t change. Apparently, threatening a thug and going to save my mother isn’t the bonding experience I thought it was. If anything, he looks more closed off.

“Look,” I sigh, “I know you hate me, but-”

“I don’t hate you.”

“You think I’m annoying, then.”

His head jerks no.

“Then what is it? Why won’t you talk to me?”

“It’s better this way,” he mutters.

I put my hand on his leg, and he catches my wrist. Shards of glass pierce my gut. I try to hide it, but Tank glances over, and his grip softens as he reads my disappointment.

“Baby, it’s not you,” he says. “It’s just better if we don’t get involved.”

“Tank, we’re driving to my mom’s in Flagstaff with a thug in the back. You spent the night last night. You saw me shift for the first time, stood up to my ex, and showed me a werewolf safe house.” I sit back in a huff. “It’s too late to not be involved.” I free my hand and do air quotes around involved.

He shakes his head, but his lips turn up a little. My little rant made him smile.

“What’s so wrong about us being involved anyway?”

Wrong question. Every bit of warmth leaves the cabin. Tank might as well have turned to stone.

“Tank?”

“It’s not safe,” he says.

“What’s not safe? You and me?” I snort. “That’s ridiculous. You’re the safest guy I know.”

“No I’m not.”

“Are you telling me I’m in danger? I can’t see you hurting a woman.”

“Not any woman. I’m only dangerous to you.”

“What?”

He mumbles something, and I lean forward. “I didn’t catch that.”

“My wolf is attracted to you.”

Ahhh. If I were a cat, I’d purr. “Your wolf? Or you?”

I put my hand on his leg, again.

“Stop it,” he says. But he doesn’t push it away.

“I never thanked you for helping me. I’d be a mess without you.”

“You are a mess.”

I laugh, but it’s a harsh, bitter sound. “The word you’re looking for is freak.”

“You’re not a freak.” He frowns.

~.~