Cold-Blooded Alpha by Eve Bale

Chapter One

My bare knees sink into soil that’s still damp from last night's rain.

The touch of the moon on my back is like a soft kiss. Cool, but welcome. And, even though my wolf is strangely silent, I know the moon soothes her as much as it always has the human part of me.

I open my eyes and stare down at the space between my hands.

My shoulder-length hair forms a shield between me and the sharp gazes that surround me—surround us. My new mate. Dayne and I.

It's over now. Done.

Yet I don't move, and neither does he. Instead, he curves the long line of his body over mine, and a hot, muscled arm settles between my bare breasts as he buries his face in the joint of my neck and shoulders.

His hot breath has tension coiling, anticipation thrumming through me.

But he doesn't do what I'm expecting. He doesn't bite me. Just holds me, as he works to steady his harsh breaths in the aftermath of our joining.

He's not alone in fighting for breath in this midnight darkness, as smoky-white tendrils of airy, lighted breath stir around us like spirits.

I can't quite believe this is real. Any of it.

My first time, with anyone, and it's at my moon-blessing ceremony in front of my pack, and with a virtual stranger.

If uncle had been kind, he'd have let Dayne and I meet before the ceremony so we could get to know each other a little beforehand.

Then, I could've told him I'd only ever played with the boys in my pack. I'd certainly never gone any further than that.

But no one could ever accuse Uncle Glynn of being kind, least of all to me.

I shift restlessly, unable to silence the rising tension Dayne has awakened, a fierce need I'm desperate for him to satisfy. Only I can't speak, or rather, I don't dare to.

Making demands of anyone has only gotten me a slap, or worse. Usually, worse.

So, while Dayne found his release, I don't dare to ask for more.

I have a mate now. That should be enough, and I can finally leave. Wanting more is just being greedy.

Howls suddenly erupt around us.

Startled, I jerk my head up, taking a moment to process that it is for us, for a newly mated pairing. My hair shifts, and for the first time, my face is no longer obscured by layers of dark-brown hair.

Dayne takes it as a sign the ceremony is over and jerks to his feet so fast that I'm not expecting it, nor am I prepared for his sudden absence. Which is when I realize he was the only thing keeping me upright.

Without the strength of his arms around me, the muscles in my arms give out and I slump to the ground, only at the last possible second, managing to stop myself from face planting.

Great, Talis. In front of the pack. In front of Dayne. Just fucking great.

But Dayne isn't paying the least bit of attention to me or to my watching pack. No. Out of the corner of my eye, I observe him stalking away, toward the heavily wooded forest, and the house a couple of minutes’ walk away. Head proudly tossed back, completely uncaring of his nudity.

"Say your goodbyes. We leave tonight," Dayne announces in his low rumbling voice, just shy of a growl, before the thick forests swallow up his tall muscled figure and he disappears from view.

Struggling to my feet on shaking knees, all I'm conscious of is that I'm naked while all around me my pack have the benefit of their wolf shape to preserve their modesty.

Not even a second goes by before a hot flush of embarrassment creeps up my cheeks.

We shifters aren't usually so embarrassed by sex or nakedness since it's a part of who we are. Changing shape means there will always be a time before we shift, and just after when others will see our naked form.

Except me.

I don't change shape anymore. It's not safe for anyone, but especially for me.

It takes everything I have in me to not rush over and snatch up my white silk robe from the ground.

Instead, I force myself to appear nonchalant as I casually stride over to the material lying neglected between me and my pack, their eyes glittering silver in the night.

Formerpack, I correct myself. After tonight, they will no longer be my pack.

Bending down to retrieve it, a bare foot beats my fingers by a hairbreadth. Disbelieving, I stare at it. I would recognize that foot anywhere.

Lifting my head, I meet my uncle's eyes. They flash with malice.

So, nothing new there, then.

"You'll have to do better than that," he says with a smirk, "if you want to keep a hold of your new mate."

I flinch, since I can hardly ignore the fact that, seconds after our mating ceremony, my new mate is stalking away from me without a single backwards glance.

The barbs that hurt the most, the ones I can never shake free, are always the ones mired with truth.

"Yes, Uncle," I murmur.

"Alpha!" he snaps, inching forward.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I ease back a step, forcing my eyes from his and to the ground.

The rest of the pack are watching me. They've mostly all changed back to their human forms now.

All except the submissives and those lower down in the pack hierarchy, since it takes them much longer than the mere seconds it takes my uncle—an Alpha—to shift.

Predatory anticipation fills the air as they wait to see what my uncle will do to me this time. How will he punish me for whatever preconceived wrong or slight I've done?

With Dayne's declaration that we're leaving tonight, he's snatched any opportunity for my uncle to strike out at me one last time. If he wants to do anything to me, it has to be now.

"Yes, Alpha," I tell the foot he still has on my robe.

His hand comes from nowhere, and suddenly I'm choking, my fingers scrabbling at his tight grip around my neck.

I go from standing to balancing on the very tips of my toes in a heartbeat, as he forces my heels and eyes from the ground. "Is that mockery I hear?"

Since I'm struggling to breathe, there's no way I can answer him. All I can do is hope he either drops me soon, or my new mate comes back. But what he'll do, I don't know. The idea of Dayne Blackshaw saving anyone, least of all me, is ludicrous.

"Answer me!" Uncle snaps, as if I'm able to speak a single word at all.

Desperately, I shake my head no.

The sound that emerges from my throat is barely a gasp, and the edge of my vision is darkening as I sink into unconsciousness.

As this isn't the first time for it to happen, I know how to read the signs better than anyone.

"Is there a problem?"

The voice, cool and silky smooth, has my eyes darting to the side, not that I see much. Especially, when my uncle drops me and I go down to my knees, hunched over and gasping as I relearn how to breathe.

It's Dayne.

He's back in the ripped, dark denim jeans, and worn, brown leather cowboy boots he came dressed in, and a balled-up shirt in his hands, as if he merely went to the house to retrieve his clothes and returned. Not even bothering to stop and finish getting dressed first.

"Problem?" My uncle smiles as he says this, even without looking I can tell the same way I've learned to read his moods as a method of survival. Automatically, I brace myself for what's coming. "Just Talis struggling to remember her place."

"Really? I thought submissives didn’t need reminding?" Dayne's gruff voice is tinged with faint humor. I don't know if he finds me funny or Uncle.

Since they're focused on each other, slowly I rise to my feet, hoping none of them notice. Trying to become invisible, if I'm being honest with myself.

If I could have a superpower, it would be the first thing I asked for. A cloak of invisibility. That or the ability to strike my uncle dead with a thought. Either works.

Uncle shrugs. "This one, this niece of mine, does. Needs a firm hand, if you know what I mean."

He doesn't have to spell it out. I see the darkness stirring in the depth of his eyes, and I know what it means. Or rather, what he's telling Dayne to do to me. I glance nervously at Dayne. How will he respond?

My uncle is giving him permission to beat me into submission, and for an alpha wolf, the power, the opportunity, to dominate must leave him salivating.

But his expression as he studies my uncle is inscrutable, and as if he feels my eyes on him, he turns his head to face me.

Immediately, I drop my gaze to his feet before I can see what's in his eyes, praying he shifts his focus elsewhere, and soon.

If I'm about to face the same treatment with him as I've had to face here, I don't want to see the truth of it in his eyes. I'd rather not see it coming. Ignorance being bliss, and all that.

"Get dressed."

I'm assuming Dayne's talking to me, but I don't lift my head to look.

It must be me, I decide, since it sounds like an order, and I'm well used to those.

I can see Uncle still has one foot on my silky white robe, and it's easy for me to spot the outline of his feet on the back. I'll have to wear it. A robe with his foot literally stamped across the back.

It's like the universe is having a field day with me. And this ultimate humiliation is happening in front of the quintessential dark angel, Dayne Blackshaw.

He's dangerous, but no one wants to be embarrassed in front of someone as beautiful as Dayne is.

But I have no choice. I either put the robe on, or continue to stand around naked, trying and failing to use my shoulder-length hair to shield my body. Not exactly an easy task.

So, starting for the robe, a soft weight hits me in my chest and I catch it instinctively before glancing down.

Soft black cotton, smelling of him. Dayne's shirt.

I shoot him a look of surprise, even though I tell myself I shouldn't. I'm a submissive and a submissive is never eager to meet or hold an alpha's gaze for longer than a second or two.

"Put it on. We're leaving," he says.

"But you haven't bitten her yet." My uncle's voice is sly, and I tear my eyes away from Dayne's, before seconds later as if I can't help myself, my eyes find him again.

Is he worried that Dayne will change his mind and try to return me down the line?

Although we mated under the moon and such a ceremony is usually permanent, it isn't always. It isn't enough to seal the mate bond between us.

For that to happen he has to bite me. Leave his mark on me. A permanent mark of his claim.

For a second, he hesitates, and something flickers across his eyes, and I understand then. Uncle was right to remind him. He was planning on returning me.

The agony that spikes through me at the thought of him throwing me away leaves me breathless, and I wrestle with my rising panic that he's going to walk away from me. Leave me with Uncle.

It's rare a mating ends like this. But it's happened enough for it to be viewed as what it is.

We shifters mate for life, just as wolves do, so for him to walk away would be the ultimate rejection.

It would be confirmation that a moon-blessed mate doesn't view you as enough, and no shifter wants what's been thrown away by another.

I wait for him to admit it. To turn and walk away and leave me with my uncle.

Oh god, if that happens, I'll be lucky to survive the punishment. It would be better for me to just kill myself rather than deal with the fallout.

But before I can react, though what I'd planned on doing, I have no idea, Dayne has me by the arm and he's lowering his face to the curve of my neck and shoulder.

The sharpness of his bite is surprisingly painful, and, just as I'm raising my hands to jerk him away from me, he releases me, and I lightly finger the sore bite mark on my neck as I retreat a step.

It doesn't hurt for long, and although it will soon heal, the faint imprint of Dayne's mark will always remain as evidence of our mating.

Lifting his head, he stares down at me, his hand coming up to wipe a smear of blood—my blood—from his lower lip.

His eyes glitter with silver flecks, and I know it's his wolf looking down at me.

"Mate," he growls possessively. It's the wolf speaking, but the man? I can't begin to even know what the man thinks.

Mate.

I think it because I can't speak. The ability abandons me. Or rather, over the years it's been beaten out of me. My voice, when I search for it, is buried so deep it takes more strength than I possess to find it.

Before I even know what's happening, Dayne is jerking me along as he starts for the house and where he parked his car. All the while, I'm trying to pull his shirt over my head as I follow along.

Blinded by dark material, my foot catches on something that feels knobby and rough, like a tree root, and I'm tipping forward, but already Dayne is catching and setting me back on my feet without pausing.

I finish yanking the shirt over my head and have to half-run to keep up with his ground-eating strides.

I feel the pack’s eyes dig into my back. Mostly, though, it's my uncle's dark amusement I feel following me and Dayne. I've finally got what I want—freedom from Uncle Glynn—but at what cost?

It's only as I'm walking away from the hellhole life that it hits me that I could be walking into a situation that is a thousand times worse.

But I can't think about that. If I do, I'll start running, and everyone knows what happens when you run from wolves.

They chase, and they bite. Hard.

There isn't a pack in Colorado, or all over the States, that hasn't heard about the cold-blooded alpha, Dayne Blackshaw. About how he killed the last alpha with his bare hands, and how he took his time doing it.

And those that haven't, well, they would have heard about how he slaughtered his family: women and pups both.

We all know what he's capable of.

And now, I'm mated to him. The permanent kind. The kind of bond only death can sever. But it's escape. It means freedom from Uncle Glynn and my pack in Dawley, Colorado, and escape is all I've wanted since he became my keeper when my parents were killed by hunters.

In two weeks, I turn twenty-three, but there's no guarantee my new mate will let me live long enough for me to turn another year older. And that's not even all the shit I've got to deal with, because my mate, Dayne Blackshaw is Alpha of the Blackshaw pack, and me? The lowest submissive in my uncle's pack?

I'm supposed to be the Luna—the most dominant female in the pack.

It’s a destiny that fills me with terror. Lead? Me? What the hell do I know about leading a pack?