The Alpha by Jenika Snow

3

Cian

You could be alive but not surviving. You could breathe, take oxygen into your lungs, feel your heart beating and blood rushing through your veins, but all of that was just mechanical instinct, muscle memory… something that had to work, because that’s how nature intended it.

So you could survive but still be a hollow corpse walking through the world, knowing you were missing the most important part of you.

And that’s what it felt like for every Otherworld creature when they didn’t have their fated mate.

I absently rubbed slow circles around my sternum. The older I got, the more I felt that loneliness, that missing piece of myself that made me the living dead. A dramatic comparison, but the truth was, it was an accurate description.

And for the last two hundred and fifty years, I hadn't been living. I’d taken one day at a time, because I had responsibilities and obligations. Serve my king, train the Guard, and keep searching for her. Always for her. Everything I did was for my faceless, nameless mate.

And although I was loyal to Banner, would die for each one of the soldiers in the Guard, would kill and maim to protect the royal family, my priority would always be to search for my female. She was out there, maybe not alive yet, maybe already having been born in a different time, too far away for me to have ever found her, too long ago that I wasn’t even in existence.

Or maybe she was out there, frail and old already, having lived a full, happy life, in love with somebody else, children and grandchildren surrounding her.

And although it ate me up to think of my female with anyone else, it was a reality, especially if she was human.

Wherever she was, whoever she was, she held my heart and soul in her hands and didn’t even realize it.

I closed the door to the small, minimalistic cabin that I’d called home for over two centuries. Nestled deep in the Highlands, still within Lycan territory, close enough that if I had to get to Banner or the royal family, I could shift and be there to protect and defend. But I kept far enough away that I could still wallow in my own loneliness, like a scab that was being picked at constantly so it would never heal.

My life could be much worse, I thought. I could have had a shit hand dealt like my fellow brother in arms, Odhran. I could have found my mate only to have her taken from me like he had. To think of seeing her, being close enough to touch her, yet have her viciously ripped from me before I could make her mine would be the cruelest punishment, a fate worse than death.

Yeah, I could have had it much worse.

I stood there with the front door to my back, the cabin spread out in front of me, and once again was struck by how bare and empty it was. It had amenities to keep me as comfortable as someone could be. I turned around and left, right back out from where I’d come, heading around the side of the house, taking my clothes off as I went and letting them drop where they fell.

I didn’t want to be locked up between those four walls. I didn't want to stare at the fireplace and watch the flames eat away at the logs as I finished a bottle of whisky. And that was becoming my typical night, thinking of all the things I had to do, this burning feeling in my gut that said I needed to search, to find her.

I stood naked by the tree line, closed my eyes, and tipped my head back, inhaling the crisp fall air. It was colder this time of year, this iciness that clung to your skin, touching your flesh like frigid fingers. It felt good on my overheated body, wicking away the sweat of the day but doing nothing to get rid of the restless energy inside me.

And although I knew a run in my Lycan form wouldn’t help much either, it was better than the alternative.

I let the shift come over me, breaking bones and tearing skin, realigning everything until I dropped onto four paws, shaking out fur that covered my heavy form. My animal was huge and powerful, as large as a fucking Clydesdale, big enough to take down anything that stood in my way.

In my wolf body I smelled things more powerfully and heard everything. My vision was stark and precise, crystal clear as I took in the sound of bugs in the distance, the scent of another wolf running through the woods. I took off, letting my front and hind legs eat up the distance, my paws sinking into the soft earth.

I ran faster, jumping over fallen logs, darting around low-hanging branches. I could see the brightness of the green moss covering the rocks along the creek. I could smell the earth’s aroma surrounding me. The Highlands were filled with life, and it brought energy to my Lycan, rooted him in his heritage and culture, made him one with Mother Nature.

We were a species of the earth, gaining strength from the moon, power from our surroundings. And so I took solace as I had for the last two and half centuries and ran free. This feeling only came second to what I knew I’d feel when I found my mate and experienced that Linked Connection.

Things could be worse, I thought, yet turning over those words in my head like a mantra did nothing to ease the ache in my soul.

I let myself run for so long that time blurred together. My bones ached; my muscles protested. But I didn’t care. I’d run until I couldn’t run anymore, until I limped and dragged my spent body back to my cabin before collapsing and sleeping. Because only then would my slumber be dreamless, my mind and body too exhausted to think, let alone feel.

I caught his scent before I saw him. I made a subtle shift in my trajectory so that I was heading toward the other Lycan. The closer I got, the more his aroma became clear, like a signature etched on his skin, a tattoo that would forever let an Otherworlder know who he was.

I broke through the clearing and saw Tadhg standing there, waiting for me. I slowed and stalked forward, my body crouched low to the ground. As part of the Guard, Tag trained with me daily. He was strong, and at one hundred and seventy-five years old, he could definitely hold his own and had seen many battles. He was one of the strongest soldiers I had.

But I was in charge. I was the Alpha. I was the strongest.

I stopped a few feet from him, letting him sense the aggression pouring for me, letting him know I was ready for a fight, even if there was no malice behind it. I wanted—needed—bloodshed. I needed something to help fill that emptiness and the hollow deep inside me. And a good old-fashioned Lycan fight in the middle of the woods would do just that.

The question was whether he’d take me up on the challenge or not.

He tipped his head back, his large black snout inhaling deeply and made a low sound, one of acceptance of the battle. It was one I knew well enough, because I would’ve never backed down from a challenge.

I crouched, and he did the same. I could imagine if we were in our human forms, we’d both be grinning like sinister psychopaths.

I let my claws retract slightly to dig into the earth, felt my muscles clench, heard the blood rushing in my ears as my heart pumped faster and harder. Not only would I be exhausted once I dragged myself back to my cabin after this fight, but hopefully I’d be sore and bloody, the pain enough to tear something dark and painful out of me.

And then we were crashing forward, massive bodies slamming against the other, claws and teeth rending flesh. I growled in a dark sort of triumph as I grappled for supremacy with Tag and was unrelenting in my onslaught.

I needed this fight down to the core, down to the makeup of who and what I was. Maybe he sensed the emptiness in me, because right now I sure as fuck wasn’t hiding it. Maybe he saw a kindred soul. Maybe he feels the same for his own unmated life.

Whatever the reason, he was just as brutal as I was, with snapping fangs and vicious attacks, tearing at flesh beneath thick fur, gripping the back of necks with our teeth. He never let up, and I growled my approval of his brutality.

As the fight progressed, we went harder at each other, became more vicious.

And as I let the pain slam into me, satisfaction burned as bright as the sun in my body, scorching away any other emotion or feeling until all I felt was that physical ache.

It was the only thing that could help mask the anguish that was a constant.

So I embraced it and wanted more.