Rogue Alpha: Wolf Shifter Romance (Wild Lake Wolves Book 1)
Read Rogue Alpha: Wolf Shifter Romance (Wild Lake Wolves Book 1) Online
Authors: Kimber White
Rogue Alpha
Wild Lake Wolves Series
Book One
By
Kimber White
Copyright © 2015 by Kimber
White
All Rights
Reserved
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 the written permission of the author or publisher, except where
permitted by law or for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is
a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events,
and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a
fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual
events is purely coincidental.
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Author’s Note
The Wild Lake Wolves books have all been written so
you can enjoy them as standalones. While they can be read in any order, the
events within them do occur chronologically. For a full list of books published
books in the series and their recommended reading order, visit the series page
at
http://www.kimberwhite.com/wild-lake-wolves
.
Happy Reading!
Kimber
It was faint. Barely more than a blip, but I swear I
heard it. I adjusted the pack on my back and pressed the binoculars to my eyes
again. Damn. Practically dusk now, it was just too hard to see anything. Maybe
if I had night vision goggles. For now though, I just found a clump of leaves
and a squirrel darting over a fallen log just ahead of me. A breeze picked up
from the north, rustling its way through the canopy of elm and birch trees
surrounding me.
Blip.
There it was again. I shut my eyes and pressed the
headset to my ears. I turned up the volume and waited.
Nothing.
“Come on, Bambi,” I whispered. “Give Mama a sign.”
Still nothing.
I checked my watch. Six forty-five. I was supposed
to be back at the outpost by seven. I’d never make that, but if I got lucky and
found our little wayward fawn, I didn’t figure anyone would get angry with me
about it.
An arcing call pierced through the stillness,
followed by another. Shit. Turkey buzzards. I saw three of the fat bastards
circling overhead. Not a good sign. One of them swooped down and disappeared
below the trees just a few yards in front of me. Dread filled me as I made my
way toward it. Again, I turned up the volume on my headset hoping against hope
I’d hear that little blip indicating our guy was still on the move.
“Prince!” The voice vibrated at my hip. Squatting as
I was, it startled me enough to make me lose my balance, and I fell on my ass
in a wet pile of rotting leaves. I turned the volume down on the walkie as I
pulled it out of my hip holster.
“Where are you?”
I brought the walkie to my mouth. No point in
whispering now. Any wildlife around me would have run for cover after that lack
of grace.
“Just past the 14 trail marker. I thought I had Number
11 tracked. I’m pretty sure his signal just cut out. Hoping it’s faulty wiring.
I just want to check it out and I’m heading right back.”
My professor grumbled through the speaker and my
heart dropped a little. It sounded like I’d set off his legendary short fuse.
Most of the students in my program didn’t like to work with him because of it.
But, so far I’d been spared. He’d treated me like gold. The Teacher’s Pet
nickname stuck with me, but I didn’t care. It was all in their heads. And I was
here to learn. Professor Flood only picked one student each year to work on
this grant. Experience like this could help me land a spot in the biology graduate
program down the road.
“That’s too far to go on your own.” Professor
Flood’s voice sounded measured, but not angry. Yet. “It’s getting dark. I’ll
come to you. I’m about four hundred meters out to the east of you. Stay put.”
Four hundred meters? What the hell were four hundred
meters? Give it to me in feet, miles.
“I really think he’s right head of me.
Carrion-eaters just above me. Let me just make sure.”
“Laura. For once will you just do what you’re told?”
Yikes. Here came the Floodgates, as everyone called
them. I guess it was finally my turn to be the target of them. But, by the time
I waited for him to get out here, there wouldn’t be much left of whatever
carcass those birds zoned in on. If I found our little guy with the tracking
tag, Flood couldn’t stay mad at me. It would save the program a couple thousand
dollars.
I pushed back the brush. In a small clearing at the
foot of a birch tree, I found what the birds did. My heart dropped. God, I
hoped it wasn’t him.
“Shoo!” I made as much noise as I could, tromping
through the sticks and brambles. The birds cawed at me. Three of them
surrounded the red-spotted clump of fur near the tree. One of them raised its
wings, protecting his soon-to-be dinner behind him. Up close, these beasties
were massive, their heads coming up almost to my knee.
“Shoo!” I waved my arms and pushed past them, hoping
they’d fly away. But, I was most definitely on their turf tonight. They hopped
into the brush but stayed close. Sighing, I dropped down to my knees.
Number 11.
He’d laid down in the soft pile of leaves, his
gangly legs drawn up beneath him. Only about the size of a Cocker Spaniel, he
had a row of white spots in a perfect line down his back. Three white spots
clumped together near his rump, two on top, one at the center. It looked like a
Mickey Mouse silhouette. I pulled a pair of purple latex gloves out of my pack
and checked the small, green tag on his left ear just to be sure. He had a GPS
microchip tracker embedded just beneath the skin on his shoulder that
transmitted his location on software back at the lab.
“Poor baby,” I whispered, smoothing his ears back.
He was still warm, his body stiffening. But, his sightless eyes had pearled
over as he stared into the woods before him. The birds hadn’t gotten to him
yet. I couldn’t find any visible signs of injury on him. But, with his mother
nowhere to be found, the little guy was never going to last too long out here. Her
beacon had stopped transmitting almost two days ago.
I took the pliers out of my pack and popped the tag
off his ear. We’d learn crucial information about Number 11’s last days back at
the lab. I bagged the tag and sealed it carefully into the outer compartment of
my pack.
“Sorry buddy,” I said. “Wish I could do more for
you, but circle of life and all.”
One of the turkey vultures cawed at me.
“Yeah. Well, you don’t have to brag about it,
asshole. Wait your turn. I’m almost done.”
I took the digital camera from my pocket and snapped
a few pictures of Number 11 for Professor Flood’s white board. Then, I zipped
the camera in my pack and pulled the gloves off my hands. I was running out of
places to stow stuff so I pulled the pack off my shoulder and squatted down to
find a plastic refuse bag. They must have smashed their way down to the bottom
of my pack past water bottles, notepads, and a bunch of other things I probably
could have left back at the cabin.
The turkey vultures clacked behind me then screeched
so loudly I covered my ears. “God, could you at least wait until I’m gone!”
But the vultures took flight in unison, and their
loud shouts of protest echoed through the forest.
“What the hell made you give up so easily?”
I froze. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on
end. Something big had chased the birds away. That same something was behind
me. On some preternatural level, I could feel it watching me through the trees.
All other sounds in the forest went dead quiet. My own pulse beat loudly
between my ears.
I turned. Slowly.
Two blazing eyes hovered between the trees about
five yards straight ahead of me. My heart hammered in my chest as I carefully
rose to my feet. I clutched the pack to my chest, thinking maybe I could hurl
it at whatever lurked in front of me. That ought to be enough to scare it off.
Then the creature stepped out of the shadows and I
dropped the pack to my feet.
A black wolf with piercing gold eyes took two slow
steps toward me. His massive paws made barely a sound as he moved through the
blanket of leaves. His ears pricked and he chuffed once, pawing the ground. He
kept his eyes locked with mine displaying a keen intelligence that both
hypnotized me and made my heart race even faster. Should I run? Should I make
myself look bigger? We didn’t cover wolves during training, for God’s sake!
This was western Michigan. They didn’t hunt this far south.
I moved toward him. I don’t know why I did it. Some
rational part of my brain told me to scream, to run, to find the biggest stick
I could and throw it at him. But, the wolf kept coming toward me. Something
seemed familiar about him, absurd as I knew that was. He bared his teeth and
let out a low, vibrating sound that seemed to penetrate my skin and warm my
blood.
I put a hand out. Something made me want to touch him
though my fingers trembled before me. The wolf pawed the ground again but
didn’t move away. His golden eyes flashed, changing, narrowing, becoming almost
human for an instant. But, that couldn’t be. None of this could. This felt like
a waking dream. Not real. Too incredible.
I stepped forward, reaching out. The wolf was just a
few inches from me. The world was the sound of my own breath hitching as I
finally threaded my fingers through his coarse, dark fur, placing each hand
just below his ears, tilting his head toward me.
And more incredible still, he let me. He let out a
few quick pants, and cocked his head, but he didn’t shy away. That low
vibration in his throat seemed to fill me as if I were making the sound with
him.
“Who are you?” I don’t know whether I voiced those words
aloud or just thought them. The wolf blinked slowly once, twice, but he didn’t
shy away as I kept my hands on his head. He seemed to be asking me the very
same question.
I leaned down, bring my face level with his. The fur
on the back of his neck stood on end and he pricked his ears but still, he
didn’t stop me. His breath blew hot against my skin and he searched my face
with those fiery golden eyes. We stood like that for a few moments, transfixed
by each other. I felt his power between my fingertips as I ran my hand down
from the dome of his head, across his back. He had thick, corded muscles
through his shoulders that rippled as he shifted his weight from one front paw
and the other. He seemed to be deciding whether to stay put or run himself.
“It’s okay.” This time I did speak out loud. “What
are you doing all the way down here? Are you lost?”
Some rational part of my brain told me I should try
and tag him too. Or at least get a picture. No one would ever believe me that
I’d found him this far south. I couldn’t though. I could barely move. At least,
not until the next instant when everything changed.
Thunder cracked all around me. The wolf’s eyes
widened and he jerked backward, breaking the link between us. The wolf let out
a growl that ricocheted off the trees and stirred my own blood. He was hit.
Wounded. It all happened in an instant but red blossomed above his left eye.
His blood sprayed across my hands. But, he moved so fast I saw only a streak of
black as he disappeared into the trees again.
“Get down!”
I came back into myself. Professor Flood stood in
the clearing bracing his shotgun against his shoulder. Shaking, I dropped to my
knees, my hands on fire where the wolf’s blood coated my palms.