Shifters Gone Alpha (30 page)

Giving the library one final, covetous look, I hurried to the door and strode out into the hallway.

“Ma’am.” A guard nodded at me from his post across the hall. “I’ve been asked to show you to the kitchens.”

I shook my head. “No, I’m going back to the private wing.”

“Oh.” He looked confused. “I thought Mister Dante said—”

“It doesn’t matter what Mister Dante said,” I yelled. Closing my eyes, I reined in my temper and pursed my lips. “I’m not going to the kitchens. I just…want to go back to bed.”

* * *

I awoke one morning to find the bed on fire. Not literally, though by the way my bones hurt and my skin burned, it sure seemed like it. My heat cycle had begun, just as Blaze had thought it would. And oh, did it make me ache for the touch of my mates.

“Dante? Blaze?” I rolled, groaning, reaching for my mates. All I could find was an empty bed and cold sheets. They’d left.

Not that I blamed them.

I’d barely touched either of them the past few days, my uncomfortableness in my new home tearing apart the physical bond we all shared. I knew it—I think deep down they knew it—but none of us talked about it. They simply watched me, waiting and wary, as they went about their days. And I…I hid in the bedroom.

But today would have to be different.

I crawled out of bed and lurched to the bathroom. A cold shower would help, at least for a few minutes. Long enough for me to find one of my mates. And it did help, the icy spray clearing my head enough to make my plans. Get dressed, roam the halls, find Dante or Blaze, and have them help me the way only they could. With sex and orgasms and the touch of the men fated as mine. My heat was on, and there was no way I could hope to curtail the pain without the assistance of my mates.

Once dressed in the softest, loosest item I owned—a cheery yellow sundress that looked far happier than I felt—I shuffled off to find my mates. That damned chandelier mocked me, making me nervous, but I couldn’t wait or let it stop me. My heat would devour me, burn me alive from the inside out if I didn’t find my men.

With little more than a panicked glance up, I stalked down the hall, right under the ugly light. An accomplishment that would have had me grinning on any other day. When I reached the doors to the main hall, I threw them open so forcefully, they slammed into the wall behind them and made the guard spin in shock.

“Ma’am, can I help…” He sniffed. Sniffed again, and then his eyes went dark. Pupils wide, he stared at me, a low growl rumbling through his chest. The sound of a shifter aroused.

“They’ll kill you if you even think of it.” I tossed my head and hurried down the hall, refusing to let my nervousness show. Damn it. Every man in this building would be able to smell my heat on me. There was no way to hide it or cover it with perfume. My cycle, the one time every year a shewolf was fertile and ready to mate, hadn’t slowly crept over me like in the past. No, this one had come on overnight, giving me no time to prepare or to ready my mates for my needs. Not that they wouldn’t already know what my oncoming heat cycle meant; hell, they were probably excited for it. Every shifter knew a shewolf in heat needed sex, and lots of it. It was what nature wanted, the only time we were able to reproduce. Our hormones would rage for days, the heat burning us alive, unless our mate sated our needs, preferably with his or her or their, in my case, body.

Really, it should have been a wonderful, glorious time filled with orgasms and emotions and all kinds of sensual kinkery. A time to grow closer: physically, emotionally, and intimately. It was why the Gathering was held in December, so new mates could spend their winter heat cycle sectioned off from the rest of their packs, getting to know one another, and if lucky, falling in love. Instead, my heat started while I was alone, too confused and preoccupied with my ridiculous obsession of proper place and station and wealth to pay attention to my body, and my mates were somewhere in this maze of a mansion with fifty men between them and me. Not the ideal situation.

I skirted the guards as best I could, but I couldn’t avoid them entirely. I felt their eyes on me, sensed more than heard their desirous growls. A shewolf in heat could tear a pack apart if the unmated males had nowhere to direct their energy. It was why most mates hunkered down in a private den during the shewolf’s heat cycle. Why unmated females tended to grab a partner early in the season and run off for a few days of alone time before the cycle began. But no, not my triad. Not me. Not this time. My heat would have to be suffered in public, at least until I found Dante and Blaze.

Slipping into the library, I spun, hope a rapidly filling balloon in my chest. Sadly, my balloon deflated quickly, the room sitting silent and empty. Determined, I crossed to the door Dante had used a few days before, crossing my fingers I’d find him. Instead, I found another hallway, much like the last. Sighing, I slipped out and continued my hunt, scenting the air and trying my damnedest to pinpoint my mates. Even my mating bond to them wasn’t as helpful as I’d hoped, or the hallways and rooms were too convoluted for me to get a good feel for where they were. Either way, I suffered through a sense of loss, my gut roiling as the temperature under my skin increased, unable to find my quarry.

After walking down endless hallways and making an untold number of turns, I approached an open door and heard Blaze laugh. My knees went weak at the knowledge I’d found him, and I sagged against the wall. As my joints popped and my muscles simmered, he laughed again. I closed my eyes, leaning my head against the wall. God, the sound of that man happy was perfect. All deep and throaty and full—a real man’s laugh. Sexy. It made me want to growl and stalk him, rub myself against him and beg him to touch me. And I would have—I even approached the door, ready to walk in—except an older gentleman, one in an official-looking robe, sat with my mate. Talking. Papers scattered on the table before them. My heart sank and I sagged against the wall once more.

Meetings…always with the meetings.

I stood in the shadows across the hall, watching, waiting for my chance, wishing Blaze would notice me so I wouldn’t have to interrupt something that could be very important. Feeling less and less sure of myself as the minutes passed, as he neglected to notice me. As I stood alone and in pain and needful.

“He’ll pick taking care of your needs over that old blowhard, you know,” a man said. Before I could turn, he pressed himself against my back, holding me to him as he whispered in my ear, “A mate in heat is a male’s first priority. You should go in there.”

I shook my head. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

I licked my lips, my voice coming out softer than planned. “I don’t want to interrupt him.”

The man stepped back, chuckling. “You wouldn’t have to say a word. He’d smell it before you even crossed the threshold. Just approach the door, and he’ll rush you back to your private wing to temper that burn.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, swallowing hard as the heat inside of me intensified. Every inch of my skin felt tight, squeezing me, adding to the deluge of agony that grew with every moment I stood in that hall. But the idea of Blaze ignoring me or turning me away hurt worse, and so I waited. Alone. Well, not quite alone.

When I opened my eyes, the man stood in front of me, watching. Huge, with big muscles and dark tattoos peeking out from under his shirt, he stared at me with a glint in his blue eyes. Eyes I’d never seen before.

“Who are you?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I’m just a worker bee.”

“How do you know who I am, who he is to me?”

He chuckled again, a rough, masculine sound. “Moira O’Shea, every wolf on this continent knows who you are.”

I took a step back, my face tightening as I frowned. “Why?”

“Because you’re the only woman able to tame two of the strongest Alphas to ever live. No one believed they’d find their third. How rare is a woman with enough courage to make demands of Blasius and stand up to Dante? How strong of will must such a woman be?” He cocked his head, appraising. “Though perhaps we’re wrong. Perhaps you’re not as commanding as everyone expects.”

I glanced from him to where Blaze sat just beyond the open doors leading into the room. I wanted my mate so badly, needed to feel his skin on mine, his taste on my lips. And yet…

“I don’t know where I fit in this place,” I whispered, the words surprising me. The stranger shrugged.

“You fit with them. All this—” he waved his hand around, indicating the mansion “—it’s a façade to impress outsiders like that guy talking to Blaze. It’s not who they are or you are. Stage dressing, Miss Moira.” He leaned close, his lips brushing my ear, his arms wrapping around me in a strange sort of hug. “You’re the star.”

Before I could respond, he let me go and spun toward the open door. “But if you’re too afraid to tell your mate you need him, I’ll do it for you.”

He winked over his shoulder and approached the door. My heart nearly stopped as the icy cold reality of what had just happened washed over me. The talking, the touching, the hug… He carried my scent on him. A strange man, unmated, I had to assume, was about to walk into a room with my mate smelling of me. Of my heat.

I lurched forward. “Wait.”

Blaze’s growl interrupted my call and forced me back a step, overpowering in both volume and force. My mate went from proper businessman to raging street fighter in under a second, leaping from the chair across the room to grab the stranger by the shoulders and shove him backward. Hard.

“Where’s Moira?” Blaze snarled, his eyes glowing with the spirit of his wolf.

The stranger shrugged, remarkably casual in the face of such a warrior. “Don’t you know?”

Blaze’s lip curled up, his eyes lifting at the corners as he began to shift. As he lost control of his wolf. “Jameson, if you did anything—”

“I’m here.” I stepped across the threshold—the draw to be with my mate, to calm him, to keep him from destroying his image as a serious leader, too hard to resist. “I’m fine, and I’m right here.”

Blaze shoved Jameson out of his way, knocking the man to the ground as he rushed to me. His eyes ran all over my body, inspecting me, darkening as they took me in.

“You’re in heat.”

I nodded, unable to speak as his growl rumbled low in his chest. Jesus, the way his eyes looked at me…devoured me. He looked like a man possessed, and I was quite obviously his salvation.

The older shifter coughed. “President Zenne, I do believe—”

“Someone will call to reschedule our meeting, Ignacious. I have something pressing to take care of.”

Blaze grabbed my elbow and dragged me from the room, leaving behind an affronted Ignacious and a chuckling Jameson.

“Blaze, really,” I said, keeping my voice soft and quiet. “You could have finished your meeting. I was trying not to interrupt you.”

“Are you in pain?” he asked. The anger in his tone made my step falter, my heart jump, but I still answered honestly.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“I thought so.” Blaze threw open the doors to the library, dragging me into the room and locking them behind us. “Get on the desk.”

I took a step back. “Excuse me?”

“You’re in heat, which is causing you pain. You need someone to bring you to orgasm to ease that burn. Get your ass on that desk and spread your legs so I can take care of you.”

“Take care of me?” I took another step back, this one to keep from hitting him. “Is that what I am already? A problem for you to fix?”

“Damn it, Moira. That’s not what I said.”

“No, but it’s your intention. Take care of the problem and go back to work.”

“No.” His growl blasted through the room. It should have scared me, made me cower. But I was quickly becoming sick of cowering.

“Really?” I stepped toward him, head up, challenging. “So now I don’t understand your words, is that it? Are you sure you know what you meant, Blasius?”

“Yes, I’m fucking sure.” He grabbed me by both arms and led me to the desk. “You are my top priority, though you seem to not want to be. You’ve been hiding from us, acting like some scared little girl. Well, if that’s how you want to act, that’s how I’ll treat you.”

He picked me up and sat me on the desk, hard. I fell back, landing on my elbows. “Blaze—”

“Spread your legs, Moira. Now.”

Haltingly, while letting out a snarl of irritation, I did as I was told.

“Do you want me, mate?” he asked, a certain tone of worry creeping into his voice as he watched me. “Do you want my touch and attention?”

I swallowed hard, bitter tears building in the corners of my eyes. Damn this man and his sweetness. That tone, that uncertainty in his voice, wrecked me. He couldn’t be that way in public, could only show that in private with his mates. I hadn’t known him long, had really only just met him, but I knew that. I knew he lived a life of lies and window dressing.

Window dressing…like the mansion. Like Jameson had tried to tell me.

Just like that, the pressure and the stress of the last few days evaporated, leaving me feeling more like myself. Like my very aroused, needy self, lying across a desk, spreading my legs for my handsome mate. My mate who was just a man, a wolf shifter, like the rest of us. Even if his job belied that fact.