The Alpha King's Captive: (A Steamy Werewolf Romance)

It sounded like an explosion.

A roar tears through the metal ward, quickly followed by wild, erratic bangings. The immortal shifter throwing himself repeatedly against the enclosures. If I were to only walk further in the direction of the sound, I'd see the gruesome smears of blood painting the unbreakable glass.

But like always, I stifle down bile and turn away. Armed men rush past me, going to subdue the man, speakers blaring out commands.

"Hold him down!" one of them orders harshly.

"He's too strong! We need reinforcement."

I make my way down the linoleum floors, making sure to keep my gaze down and away from the transparent prisons. White LED light shines down, the air rife with the cloying scent of antiseptic, death, and decay. I clutch my logbook closer to me, my chest constricting with each breath I pull in.

Rounding into the clinic, I head toward Dr. Sarah's cubicle.

She looks up when I drop the book in front of her. "Here. All done," I say with a forced chirp.

She grabs it immediately. Her eyes scan the report rapidly from behind her glasses. "Odd," she muses under her breath. "Experiment 107 doesn't seem to be reacting to the substance."

My throat tightens and I have to stop myself from shuffling on my feet. I hate the way they refer to the Shifters as experiments. I stop my musings abruptly once I realize the pronoun I'd used. They.

As the months progress, I realize I've started to see myself apart from them. Which is a dangerous thing, because I am a Hunter. Will be until I die.

Anything to protect him.

"Why is that?" I ask, bringing myself back to the present.

She looks up at me as if only realizing I am still in the office with her. "I have no idea. Either he's too strong or has developed a mutation from the previous shots that allows his system to be immune. Anyway, we move on to phase 2. Iridium."

My breaths seize and without thinking I blurt, "But that could kill him."

The office goes deathly quiet.

I had shown consideration for the enemy.

What the hell was that Gwen? I fire internally.

Dr. Sarah seems to also be thinking the same thing because the eyes on me narrow. "And? What is one more death?" Her palms land smack down on the table, causing me to jump. "They've caused countless of ours!"

"I--"

"Am I right in thinking you're becoming a liability, Miss Owens? You know we don't hesitate to cut our losses."

I swallow, looking down at my feet. "I'm sorry, Dr. Sarah."

She sits back, throwing the logbook back at me. "Experiment 487. Check his vitals so we can begin working on him."

I have a bit of a struggle catching the book and after it dances precariously on my open palms, it lands on the floor. The picture staring back at me is his.

'Experiment 487.'

The organization's latest conquest. The Alpha king himself, Malcolm Blaine.

My heart slams against my chest and I pick up the book, palms clammy. Steel grey eyes stare up at me, seeming piercing and life-like even in the inanimate pages. A cold face peers through. So do a pair of high cheekbones, a proud aristocratic nose, and a strong jaw. The expression on his face is fierce, but that does nothing to distract away from his otherworldly beauty.

Locks of hair fall across his stern brows. They're midnight black and look so soft that I find my fingers itching for a feel of them.

I realize I'm staring and worse, Dr. Sarah's gaze is trained on me. My blood cools when I meet her eyes. With an awkward, "I'll be back soon," I leave her office.

My heels click against the vinyl floors. The fighters give me a nod of acknowledgment as I pass through, recognizing me as one of their own. I suddenly feel uncomfortable, like my button-down and pencil skirt are a size too tight. I feel like I'm harbouring a dirty secret.

Which, in reality, I am.

I turn into endless white hallways and soon find myself in an elevator. The ride up is long. Understandably. Mount Pyre has got like a hundred floors.

My first memory as a Hunter flits in. It was two years ago, they were in need of more scientists and I was looking for a way to get into the organization. But just as I got in, I wanted out. This place was filled with murderous fanatics and people who believed the Shifters were the ones responsible for the worst things that ever happened to humanity.

As if humans were the saints.

The glass partitions slide open in front me and I step into a different part of the building. I feel the first threads of dread slide into my stomach. It's always like this. The fear, the uncertainty. I know that before testing the immortals they were sedated out of their minds. But that never stops me from worrying. What if one of them wakes up and decides to be the scourge of the human race the fanatics pipe about?

"Evening," a fighter standing post greets.

"Good evening," I say back.

Taking out my card, I slide the chip into the side of the door. It whirs open, letting me entry.

I walk in. The doors slide close behind me with a finality that has the hairs on my nape rising.

Loosening my shoulders, I tell myself I'm being irrational and draw closer to the large hospital bed.

It is my first time seeing Malcolm.

I wonder how in hell the hunters had managed to capture him. The thought leaves my mind once I get a full view of him.

"Woah..." My face colours at how breathy I sound.

The man is large.

His tan skin stands out amidst the white linens. He is naked from the waist up and I get an eyeful of huge shoulders, corded muscles, rounded pectorals, and a ripped abdomen.

I move closer and check his temperature, recording it. Werewolves have a normal body temperature of what humans consider sick. It still amazes me how different we are from the Shifters. I move the sheets away in an attempt to reach for his wrist and I pause when I see he's naked safe for a pair of boxer briefs.

His lower torso is also uncovered and I make out black ink. What is written there is indecipherable.

I catch myself staring for too long and redden. Really, Gwen. A new low? Ogling a man who's knocked out cold?

I get back to work and stiffen when a low mumble escapes from him. My head snaps up, but my racing heart calms when I see his eyes are still closed shut.

Tired, I lumber home later that evening, taking a cab. Once we round into my lane, I pay the driver and head down the hard concrete. This part of town is industrial, with buildings lumped together and rundown warehouses dotting the street.

Sliding my gaze around, I grip my keys and fit one into the lock. The sound of workers unloading cargo along the harbour fill the night.

Once the door comes open, an excited shriek meets my ears and soon a small body barrels through the living room, leaping into my arms. I giggle, catching him. Pulling back, I stare into his slitted eyes. Gradually they morph back to normal rounded pupils and I smile.

In my arms is the very reason for my existence.

MALCOLM BLAINE.

___

The resigned voice of one of the four elders in my council floats through the room, stirring my wolf. "Alpha, you need to take a step back and view this matter from a distance. This is not wise."

I eye the wide panorama glass stretching the entire east wall before me, scoping out the boisterous city of Manhattan down below. Humans flit around, bundled up in thick wool from the early November chill. Dressed in a plain black tee and a pair of slacks, I hardly feel the cold. My voice is low. "There is no time."

Another spoke then, louder and with more conviction, "Your Highness, Garreth is right. Going down to South Carolina is a bad idea. You'll be offering yourself up to the Hunters on a silver platter. Yes, they have your brother but they'll be lying in wait for you. This is a trap. With Prince Bowen being the bait."

When I turn around, three of them take a step back at the sight of my wolf's glowing blue eyes, all with the exception of the stooped Elder standing in a secluded corner. Elias has known me since I was a little boy, practically raised me, and knew something I wasn't telling anyone.

"My mind is made," I say. "I won't allow any discussions on this matter. Rhon, ready the jet and some men. We leave at first light. The rest of you, out."

I turn my attention back to the glass, feeling my insides knot with a feeling I've become accustomed to for the past month. Expectation. Excitement. Want.

I scrub a hand down my face when the door closes shut with my elders' departure. Although I am still aware of a lingering presence.

"I just gave an order," I say, then add, "Elias."

"That you did," came his frail croak.

I face him. "Alright, let's hear it. Convince me to stay back. Tell me I'm going on a fool's errand."

"And why would I do that?"

For a brief moment I'm taken aback, then my eyes narrow. "Should have known you'd resort to your mind tricks. You want me to say the Hunters are going to attack once I land, that they'd take me hostage. But you forget. They're just humans. Weak, pathetic humans."

He shrugs slight shoulders. "Last I heard, they've gotten creative. They managed to infiltrate a nesting of snake Shifters in Orlando. One of the most powerful, might I add. They didn't do that by being weak and pathetic."

"Or maybe they were just careless."

"Like you're about to be."

Silence settles in the air. I turn back around, my mind whirring.

He takes a step closer, his voice quiet. "Malcolm, I've never known you for a fool. What's in South Carolina?"

At his question, I stiffen. Though he may be old, his senses are quick. He picks up on the small movement.

"Your restraint is legendary, you've never had any trouble leashing your wolf, but I can count how many times in the past month you've let it take over. There's only one thing that can make a man act so carelessly."

I wait for him to call it.

"Your mate. You sense her in Charleston."

When I face him, I pass a cold look over his form. "My beta has just been taken in by Hunters. Do you think I'll jeopardize any chance of his rescue because I'm impatient to meet a female that might not even exist?"

He doesn't reply, but a gleam enters his eyes. I could almost say it was... Satisfaction.

He heads toward the entrance, then disappears behind the door but not before saying happily, "Patience has never been your virtue, my king."

GWEN

__

Gooseflesh breaks over my entire body. I try to draw comfort from the guards flanking my sides, but the mere act of trying to draw strength makes me aware of all the things that could go wrong.

I hate this part of the job.

I'd be testing the intakes. While they were awake.

Several cases have been reported of immortals going off the rails completely and critically injuring scientists.

Hunters mill about the great white space. I make my way past them, entering into the elevator with the two fighters on either side of me. We begin a slow ascent.

The elevator doors slide open to reveal chaos. The Hunters on either side of me instantly tense, drawing up their weapons. Confusion pounds through me as I take in the countless hunters filing into the ward.

"What's going on?" I scream and start moving.

"Apparently one of the test subjects has gone berserk."

A knot forms in my throat when I see the room they're going into. Room 207.

Malcolm.

Before I can think better of it I'm rushing into the ward. Fear and worry become a living thing in me, churning in my gut. "Don't hurt him!" I find myself shouting.

I am jostled around by moving Hunters. Then that's when they begin. The bloodcurdling roars. My stomach bottoms out when screams from the Hunters erupt.

"Hold him down!"

"I'm trying--f*ck!"

Another bone-chilling roar. My insides twist.

I finally burst through the mass of bodies blockading the entrance. Once my eyes lock with his eerie glowing blue ones, he instantly falls silent.

His wild eyes run down my body as if searching for injuries, growing angrier and more frantic by the second.

He thinks I've been taken in by the Hunters too.

The warriors immediately capitalize on his brief distraction and clamp new silver cuffs around his hands and legs. Silver. My throat knots. Silver is dangerous to werewolves.

I am taken aback by my sudden concern, but I don't have any time to dwell on it because he lifts those frightening blue eyes to mine and I freeze.

"Mate," he growls.

A slow blink. My mouth gradually falls open. The Hunters all stiffen, staring from me to the alpha. I shrink backward and before I know it, I'm slinking away, rushing through the doors and away from the ward.

I am summoned to Dr. Sarah's office almost immediately.

The space is filled with other important personnel and I fight the urge to shuffle under their openly scheming gazes.

Dr. Sarah approaches me. She beams at me but I sense a falseness about it. "Gweneth. Everyone has been buzzing about the recent news. But we'd like to hear it from the horse's mouth. Is it true?"

She makes it sound like I'd just announced an engagement. To her question, I nod. "Yes. I... I'm his mate." Saying it out loud sounds surreal. Impossible.

Shifter-human pairings are rare. So rare there hasn't been any recorded cases of it actually happening. But to be fair, we only just found out shifters exist a few decades ago, so I'll give it time.

If possible Dr. Sarah's smile widens. She claps like an excited schoolgirl and my discomfort grows. "This is good news!" She turns her attention to the team behind, and in a voice breathy with excitement, she announces, "It appears we've just made a breakthrough."

White smiles pass around the group and I'm left in the dark, a foreboding chill starting to make its way through me.

Dr. Sarah turns back to me. "As of today, you're to resign your job as a scientist."

My breath stops. "Why--"

"Because you're going to be assigned another job, of course."

"What job?"

"Take care of the Alpha. Ensure he's well-fed. You're to spend a great deal of time with him so that the bond between the two of you can strengthen. He would never relax if there were cameras around or security guards patrolling the area, so we've decided to cut those short. We're relying on you to keep him...in check."

I search her eyes, growing uneasy. "Why?" And why would they trust me with such responsibility? Are they so certain I wouldn't betray them, or do they have something on me that'll ensure I won't?

A dark look passes over her face. "That way he can do whatever we ask of him once he thinks you're in danger," she replies.

I suddenly find it hard to swallow. "I don't want any part in this."

Her eyes snap to mine like she didn't expect I'd not be on board with her plan. "What?"

"This." My arm does a wild sweep in the air. "I don't want any part in any of this. This is where I draw the line."

The people around all stiffen, glaring daggers at me like I am vile. Like I am damning humanity by refusing to partake in their plan.

Dr. Sarah steps closer to me. Her voice lowers. "You could be forced."

So they do have something on me? I stiffen and draw up to my full height. "Is that what happens when you become a Hunter, have your free will taken away from you? I thought the very thing we fought for was freedom."

She doesn't waver. "Your report states a next of kin in Las Vegas. A sister. A drunk and a drug addict who cannot be trusted with taking care of her own son. But despite this, you love her. Wouldn't like to see her washed up dead in some lake, would you? And her son..."

My breath rattles out of me and I don't care if my terror is stark on my face.

The woman pats the side of my face gently before drawing away. "Now just do as we say and no one gets hurt."

When I go home later, I stare blankly ahead as I heat some mashed potatoes, giving halfhearted answers to Rylan's excited rambling.

When night falls I sneak into his bed, wrapping my arms around his little body. He soon stirs awake and blinks up at me blearily. "Mum? What are you doing here? You know I can sleep alone now, right?"

"Shh," I hush gently, feeling my voice crack. "Mummy just wants to hold you, okay?"

Perhaps sensing my mood, he just nods and snuggles deeper into me, falling asleep almost immediately.

The next morning I retrieve my car from the mechanic, driving it up the barren acreage of land surrounding Mount Pyre. Stopping at the front post, I slide my ID card against the slot and the huge gate budges, drawing up. I drive in.

The Hunters around cast me sidelong looks as I make my way through the Halls. A few of them stare at me with open animosity, no doubt having heard about my refusal to go on board with Dr. Sarah's proposal. Although you could hardly call it that.

Her office is wide open by the time I get there. She looks up when I come in, then a smile stretches the side of her lips. "Knew you'd make the right choice."

My jaw clenches. She waves towards the opposite table. I turn and see a trolley. It's packed with food.

"Werewolves have quite the appetite. Although this one doesn't seem to want to eat anything we give him."

"Can't imagine why."

She doesn't address the dry statement, instead motioning to the trolley again. "Take it up to him. There's every chance he's going to eat what's in it now you're the one offering the food."

I roll the trolley away. The elevator ride up is slow and, unfortunately, I have enough time to dwell on my situation.

I am going to meet Malcolm. Dread tightens my chest. The image of him from yesterday flashes through my mind and I blanch. His eerie blue eyes, the canines lengthening past his lips, the horrific sharpening of his face. The sharp black claws.

One swipe of those lethal contraptions and you'll be rent to shreds.

The doors slide open and I push through. Taking out my card, I slide the chip in and the metal door whirs open.

He's awake.

Steel grey eyes watch me narrowly as I enter the room. On instinct, my eyes fly to the emergency button. His gaze follows mine and they harden.

"Good morning," I say, stomach in knots.

Like yesterday, his eyes do a bold sweep down my body. Once they land on the card pinned to my shirt pocket his eyes glow a fierce blue that has me backing up sharply. "You're one of them," he growls.

I realize it's the first time I've heard him speak. His voice is deep and gravelly, a combination that has heat slinking down my insides despite myself. Once what he says settles, I state, "You could say that."

"Then you are no mate of mine."

The rejection cut deep. The feeling is accompanied by a twinge of anger. "Do you think I want any part in this!?" I blurt. "Look. My life is in danger and--" I cut myself off, sucking in a breath.

He watches me closely. Pinpricks of gooseflesh break out of my skin. Out of my depth, I look away.

"Then set me free," he says.

My eyes meet his. "I can't. It's not... it's not that easy." I start to unpack the trolley. A plate of pancakes is dropped down on the space beside him. "You have to eat."

He's still looking at me in that disconcerting way. "Why do you say your life is in danger?"

I scoff, the bitter sound directed at myself. "It's nothing I shouldn't have seen coming. I got myself into this and by god, I'm getting myself out." Eyeing his bonds, I fork a helping of pancakes and hold it out to him. "Please eat."

His slate grey eyes are unmoving on my face and I feel a flush start to creep up my neck.

There's a calculation in his gaze that should've bothered anyone, but I'm too busy reeling from the all-consuming way he looks at me to care. Finally, his mouth budges open. That little action of surrender should've been the first thing to alert me something wasn't right. I'll learn eventually that Malcolm never yields.

But I'm so relieved at finally getting to him that I inch closer. Oddly enough, I don't feel afraid of him.

Reverse that.

When the fork goes in his mouth, his lips close over it deliberately, eyes locked on mine with a dark intensity. At once, something raw and hot crackles to life between us.

When a smoldering blue glow simmers in the depths of his eyes, I suddenly feel like a prey.

Which is ironic, because he's the one in chains.

But a part of me, an instinctual part, knows I shouldn't count on that fact to keep me safe from him.