Chapter 3: Alpha’s Secret: Chapter 3

Jordy

I crouch behind the blue truck, holding my breath. When I woke, I was so disoriented, I thought I had crawled out of my cage and lain down on a bed in my master’s house. I was up and out from under the covers like they burned me. No telling what Augustine would do if he caught me taking luxuries he didn’t dole out. He’s not bad as far as masters go, but he definitely likes complete control.

The big male who took me away on the other hand…I don’t know what he wants. He was there in the club. And later, in the house, his footsteps approached slowly while I shivered in the cage. The heat of his anger washed over me and my fox reacted the opposite of how she felt when faced with other angry dominants. Submissive, not fearful, but free and easy, as if his anger was a warm den I could curl up in and hide.

Then I literally woke up in his den. Master Augustine will loan me out, share me, send me as a package to stay overnight with someone he wants to reward—but all those times were with vampires. Even the time when—

Don’t think about that.

Master Augustine never loaned me out to a shifter before. As far as I know, he disdains shifters, even though he owns one as his submissive. I shouldn’t be here. The longer I stay, the angrier my master will be. I have to go, no matter how good the bear makes me feel.

I’m not just worried about punishment at the hands of my master now. I’m worried about my life. Augustine is to be feared, especially when he believes he’s been betrayed.

And then there’s what the big bear said on the phone a second before I snuck past: The king and I have an arrangement. That should be enough reason to leave. No shifter tangles with a vampire and wins, but this guy sounds like he’s struck a bargain with one. If there ever was a sign I should skedaddle, that’d be it. I can’t get involved with vampire turf wars. My master won’t like it. I’ve got to get back to him and explain what happened. I’m not even sure what happened, but maybe on my way back I can think of something.

I peer over the truck bed back at the house. It looks like a long box, one half stuck in the mountain and dark as a basement, the other half—the kitchen and large living room sticking out of the red rock. Big picture windows and a stunning view. Light, lots of it. I noticed as I was leaving. I even thought I wouldn’t mind claiming it as a den.

My fox is stalling.

I just have to take off down the long drive, except that’d be the most obvious escape route.

Maybe I can climb down the mountain. I go to the edge and look over all the red stone. My fox might blend right in.

I take a step and a big hand closes on my nape.

“Gotcha,” the bear growls. He moves quiet for such a big guy.

My body jerks once, my feet scrambling uselessly. The big man turns me to face him, clamping me to his hard body and I go limp. All the fight goes out of me, submission so programmed into me I hardly know how to resist. But if truth be told, I’m relieved to be caught. I’d rather be enslaved to this grizzly bear than with a cold, punitive Augustine any day. Not that I think he’s enslaving me. There’s way too much kindness in him for that. He believes he’s protecting me, helping me. He just doesn’t know how ruthless Augustine can be. What he’ll do when he gets me back.

“That’s right,” his deep, delicious voice rumbles in my ears. “No running. Not from me.”

He throws me over his shoulder and I remain limp, arms hang down as he strides away from the overlook’s edge. I’m eye level with his behind, and boy, is it a nice one. I probably shouldn’t be checking out my captor, but his backside and thighs fill out his ripped up jeans perfectly.

He carries me across the parking lot, past his big shiny truck and into his house. “No use trying to escape. You’re gonna be with me awhile.”

Okay, maybe I am his slave now. And that shouldn’t make me so terribly excited.

I wait for him to drop me to the floor and punish me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he tromps down the hall, stopping a moment. A thud and his boots hit the floor. He took the time to toe them off. He strides to the room where I woke up and lays me on the bed.

He leaves a moment and I lie there, blinking at the low ceiling. I realize I’m toying with my collar, and I lower my hand.

A few minutes and he returns, shutting the door to close us in a warm, dark cocoon. Automatically my head tips back and I show my throat, acknowledging him as dominant. It’s always nerve-wracking to expose my throat to an apex predator, but I have to do it. Instinct is a bitch. With any luck this will appease him. In a perfect world, the submissive act is one of ultimate trust. I expose my neck, the ultimate show of faith. Offering my life if he wants to take it. I should be more afraid than I am, but something about him soothes my fox. In a perfect world, a dominant protects the weak. Maybe this one will protect me.

A hiss of indrawn breath and strong fingers wrap around my chin. “What is this?” A rough thumb traces my shivering pulse. His anger vibrates through me, but somehow my fox knows it’s not directed at me. I lie docile in his grip, obedient when he tips my face up to meet his blazing eyes. He’s close to shifting.

I put my hand to my neck. As soon as my fingers touch the seam running up my neck under the white leather, I remember. “It’s nothing,” I tell him. “A bite.”

“That’s not a bite,” the bear growls. “He fucking gnawed on you.”

I can only nod. My vampire master usually fed neatly from the artery, but that night he’d wanted to punish me.

Rough fingers fumble with the strip of leather. I realize he’s trying to unbuckle the collar and I panic, grabbing his wrist. He growls and I lie flat again, closing my eyes and pressing my hand to the bed. The leather tightens as he tugs, and when the buckle doesn’t yield he snarls again. A claw slides against my neck, close to my beating pulse, then a flick and the collar flies away. I grip the blanket, my breath coming faster.

Then my captor does something I’d never expect in a million years. Both his big hands settle around my head, gently angling it back to study the old wound.

“Shhhh, easy, kit.”

I blow out a long breath, willing myself to calm.

“That’s it. Good girl.”

When I open my eyes, he’s studying my neck, his hands cradling my head.

“Scarred,” he murmurs. “Takes a lot for a shifter to scar. There’s only one way for sure to do it.”

I nod. I know how shifters scar. The marks on my neck are like a brand, signalling my weakness. Telling any shifter who knows the signs that I’m vampire food. I’m scarred like a human.

I close my stinging eyes. I’m so sick of being a victim.

“Hey.” His thumb strokes my chin. “It’s okay. The scars aren’t so bad. I didn’t even notice them before.”

My face crumples further, and he tugs me close, saying gruffly, “Didn’t mean to hurt you.” His voice is gravelly but his arms around me are gentle. “Now,” he sets me back an inch so I can see his face, “we’re gonna lie down and sleep. It’s been a long night and you need it. No more running.”

I bite my lip. I can’t agree to that.

An avalanche-like rumble comes from his rock-hard chest. “You run, I won’t like it. There’ll be consequences. Understand?” His thick fingers squeeze my nape, not choking, but hard enough to make my spine go limp, signalling submission.

“Yes,” I answer. “I understand.” I understand consequences real well. I grew up in a clan of crazy, paranoid, in-bred fox shifters. The kind who sell their own to slavers because there are too many mouths to feed.

I wait but he doesn’t move, doesn’t change his grip. I’m beginning to think he’s going to hold me like this all day when he kneads my neck a little and tips my head back to meet his gaze. His eyes are light, his bear still close, but he looks calm, thoughtful. The rough stubble and jagged scar make him look rugged, not ugly.

That’s when it really hits me: he’s scarred, like me.

“Name?” he asks.

I blink at him, still wondering about the scar. Shifters don’t scar easy, as he said. How did he get his?

“Name, kit. What do I call you?”

“Me? Oh. Jordy.”

He grunts in acknowledgement and drops his hand. I immediately miss its comforting weight. I catch his hand before he can pull away. He stills as if my soft touch freezes him. Which I know it might—my hands are always cold. But I’m no match for a shifter, any shifter really, much less one of this bear’s size and weight.

“What’s your name?” I ask. A part of me is shocked by my brazenness. Another part of me is too curious to keep from asking, too eager to get to know him to let him go.

“Grizz. Short for Grizzly.”

I cock my head to the side. “That your real name?”

“Nope.” He moves away as if to underscore the point that his nickname is all I’m gonna get. I wipe my face of disappointment as he gets up from the bed.

“Here.” He’s back, shoving a carton of orange juice in my face. “You need to drink.”

He watches as I drain half the carton. “You need the bathroom?” he asks as I hand it back.

“No.”

He sits and turns off the light. In the darkness, my senses go on alert. Grizz is a big shape next to me, warm and golden. My fox sees the world through scent, and to her the grizzly is a softly glowing sun. He smells comforting and familiar, like sugar cookies or gingerbread.

The bed creaks as he sits down and I push back to the wall. “What are you doing?” I squeak. Not because I’m frightened of him, but because I’m excited, and my eagerness frightens me.

“Gonna get some shuteye. You too. We have a long day after this after an even longer night.”

I lick my lips, considering. “You’re keeping me here?”

“For now. No more roaming.” He gives me a dominant push. “No sneaking out.”

“What are you gonna do with me?”

“Nothing bad. Just sleep.” His voice drops an octave. “Do I have to order you?”

If he does, I won’t be able to wake up and try to get out of here. Until the order wears off, I won’t be able to get up at all.

“No, no,” I say. “I’ll sleep.” I burrow deeper into the covers, curling around a pillow. After a moment, the bed creaks as he does the same.

We both settle in side by side, back to back, and even though we’re not touching, I can feel him close to me.

I squeeze my eyes shut, and just like that, I fall under into the darkness of my dreams. There’s someone waiting for me there—a huge black presence with fangs and talons, reaching for me, watching with a single glowing eye.

“Jordy,” someone calls from far away. “Jordy, wake up.”

I come to with a gasp, my limbs thrashing. Someone’s holding me tight, almost crushing me. I wheeze and the grip loosens.

“You’re okay,” Grizz croons, one arm wrapped around my shoulders, the other at my waist. His body surrounds me completely. As soon as I realize that, I go limp. I can’t help crying a little, rubbing my face in Grizz’s soft t-shirt. My fingers dig into the fabric, curling into fists resting against his firm, muscled chest.

“I’m sorry.”

His big arms flex around me a second before relaxing. “It’s okay.”

“I had a bad dream,” I whimper. I sound pathetic, even for me.

“Shh, you’re safe here. It was just a dream.” Calloused fingertips brush my forehead.

“It wasn’t, though. It really happened. It was a memory.” Waiting for me. As if my body knew I was safe so my mind served up the memory of that night, delivering it to my consciousness so I could process it.

“It’s okay, kit.” He keeps stroking my face and hair and I close my eyes against the delicious sensation. “No one can get you here.”

“What about—”

“Vampires?” he answers for me and rearranges me in his arms so my head is tucked under his chin. “They can’t get in. This is my den. They’d need an invitation.”

I shiver. “They can send in other forces.”

I feel his grin as his jaw moves against my head. “They can try. Anyone finds this place, and enters, I’ll eat them.”

A giggle escapes me and I cut it off, unsure if he meant to make me laugh. His chuckle echoes around me and I relax again, a smile curling deep inside me. His light mood gives me courage to ask what I’ve been wondering since I got here.

“Why did you bring me here?”

Instead of answering he adjusts his hold on me again, this time so he can rub my back.

“It wasn’t locked,” he says gruffly after a while.

“What?”

“The cage wasn’t locked. You told me your master put you there, but the cage wasn’t locked.”

“Oh,” is all I can think to say.

“You could’ve left at any time, but you didn’t. Why?”

“To please my master.”

“He’s a shitty master.”

“He saved me. He provides for me and protects me.” I swallow anything else I would say. Augustine isn’t perfect, but he’s delivered on everything he promised. That’s all I can ask for. I owe him my loyalty, and my life.

“He loaned you out, beat you, fed from you. Then threw you in a cage.”

“The cage is my home.”

He sighs as if he understands but wishes he didn’t. “You going to be okay without it?”

“I’ll be good,” I promise in a whisper.

“That’s not what I meant. Does your fox need the cage to feel safe?”

“No.” I lick my lips, wanting to explain that I already feel safe with him. “The cage…it was more for my master’s benefit. My master doesn’t know how to handle my fox. Once, she bit him.”

“Your master, Augustine. A vampire.” His tone is dry.

“Right.”

“He should be able to fucking handle it. In any case, turnabout’s fair play.” He mumbles the last part.

“What?”

“I mean, he’s biting you.” The big guy strokes the scar on my neck. “Maybe your fox doesn’t like it. Maybe she thought to give him his own taste of fangs.”

I giggle, even though it’s not funny. My master was so angry when my fox acted out. He didn’t let me out of the cage for a week.

When I explain this, the big man’s face gets dark. Scary dark. My fox pokes up her head, fascinated. I’m smarter. I sit quietly.

“Maybe you need a new master.”

Yes, I want to agree, but I don’t. I already feel guilty betraying Augustine like this.

“You need to sleep.” He settles us back on the bed, my back to his front. He takes time to lift my hair away from my face and neck, so my skin rests directly on the pillowcase’s smooth surface. I hold my breath the whole time, waiting for him to pull away.

“Will you…” I stop my question in its tracks. I’m not supposed to ask for anything. I’m so relaxed around Grizz I’ve forgotten the rules.

But he growls, “Will I what?”

“Will you keep holding me?” I can barely hear myself, but he hears me just fine.

“Sure, Kit. No problem. Sleep now.” It’s not an order but I’m out.