The Alpha's Territory

Chapter 8: The Slip

Emily's perspective:

I sit up in bed and frantically wipe away the sweat beading on my forehead while reaching for the bottle of wine that is likely already warm. My hand hits the nightstand, searching for it in the dark. Nothing but a puddle of lukewarm water, smearing about the top of the nightstand as my hand desperately searches. What the hell? I need a drink.

"Gabby!" That girl must have snuck in here and stolen the bottle while I was sleeping. "Gabby!" Irritated at her silence, I kick off the covers and trip toward the bedroom door. "Don't ignore me."

I open my bedroom door and see that hers is already open. With motherly frustration, I storm across the living room, stomping hard enough that I know she'll hear me. I rush through the doorway and flip the light switch. "Girl, you better..." Her rumpled bed is empty, along with the rest of her room. "Gabby!" She still doesn't answer. I walk to the bathroom door and slide it open. The light is off.

Fear floods my senses. Where is that girl? She knows we can't separate. I sprint to the door of our suite and fling it open. I bet she's with him: Austin. I burst past every suite in the hall and practically leap down the stairs, cursing her the whole way. I told her. D*mn it. I told her. Stupid. When I get my hands on her. D*mn her. Stupid girl.

At the bottom of the steps, I turn my head left and right, trying to catch her scent. There are too many shifters in this place. It's hard to tell which is hers. Even when I catch it, I can't tell which way she went for sure.

"Gabby!"

"Looking for your sister?" a young girl's voice asks from the kitchen island behind me.

Wrath at my sister's immaturity and the obvious answer to this girl's question overflows into a vicious, teeth-baring growl that sends the poor girl in the kitchen stumbling back into the fridge. I pounce from the bottom of the steps to the island.

"Austin. She's with Austin," the girl stutters.

Catching myself sounding too much like Vin for my own comfort, I apologize to the girl. “Sorry. I didn't mean to jump on you." I stutter a bit myself, wiping at my face to hide my uneasiness. “I-I… It's… Well. No excuse. Sorry."

“It's okay," she says, though I know it's not.

"Do you know where they are?" I ask softly.

"I don't know. I think I heard him say something about the hangar. Bram, the Beta is out there. He night know."

"Where's the hangar?"

"It's the big, blue building at the other end of the runway."

Even in the midst of my anger, I realize it would not be good to leave a bad second impression. “Thank you," I say in hopes that my gratitude will suffice.

I remember seeing the building on the ride in from the cabin. Turning from the kitchen, I bolt for the entryway, then through the front door. Two older shifters, Tulsa and Vegas, are reclining in rocking chairs, sipping on steaming coffee. The more I see Tulsa, the more I can't help but think he is Tom Selleck's doppelganger.

Though sitting, I remember his towering height and wide shoulders. More than anything, it's the swagger and mustache that keep taking me back to Selleck, specifically his role in my Dad's favorite movie, where he goes to Australia. He's even wearing a denim outfit and white cowboy hat reminiscent of the film. D*mn it. What's the name of that movie?

Funny enough, Vegas reminds me of another celeb from my childhood—Dad's girlfriend, we always called her—a grey-headed version of Vana White. Even in the midst of my frustration, I smile at the thought.

"Snuck off to the hanger with Austin about an hour ago," says Tulsa with a rustling tone that completes the ensemble.

"Young love! First love!" sings Vegas

Not wanting to be rude to those who had graced me with the delicious meal earlier in the evening, I force a smile.

Vegas can clearly see my frustration. "Don't mind us, dear. You do what you must."

Quickly, I shed my clothes. “Watch these for me."

“Yes, ma'am," they both laugh.

Feet shuffling down the steps, my upper torso begins to shift. I go down onto my forepaws at the base of the steps and, like a hound after its prey, I gallop to the hangar in the distance.

Now that I am in the open air, Gabby's smell is distinct. I'm heading in the right direction. And when I get there, I'm going to drag that girl back to the room by her hair.

The closer I get to the hangar, the stronger the scent gets. The stronger the scent gets, the more my feverish rage stiffens the hairs raised on my back. I swear when I get my paws on her.

I gallop past the airplane I saw zooming over the cabin this morning. Just before rushing through the open hangar door, I hear a familiar voice arrogantly jest, "Woah... Woah... Hold up."

Mid stride, my bones shift back into human form. On bare feet, my body fully exposed, I charge the laughing voice and concernedly ask: "Have you seen my sister?"

The Beta, Bram, pokes his head out from behind the engine hatch of a plane. “Oh, I don't know. Around here somewhere, I guess."

“Have you seen her?"

Bram waves his hand in the air and turns back to the plane engine.

“Bram, please."

Barely above the sound of a cranking socket wrench, I hear a mumbled, “Yeah-yeah."

“Is she in the hangar?"

He waves a hand back at me and continues working.

Irritated at the gesture, I start to give him a piece of my mind but hold back. I don't want to step out of line. I don't want to say anything I'd regret. I don't want to get on the Beta's bad side. “Sorry if I'm bothering you. I don't want to be any trouble."

“Ha!" he cackles loudly.

Not letting the laugh give me pause, I continue. “I just want to find my sister. Please."

“That's it? That's all you want? You sure?"

“What? Yes."

With a pretentious jovial air, he jests, wagging a finger from behind the hatch. “Somehow, I doubt that."

If I don't walk away, I'm going to lose my cool. I can't afford that. I turn to leave when Bram calls out.

"Hold up, little doggy. Where do you think you're going?" he asks as he turns from his work to me. He smiles from ear to ear. “Well? Cat got your tongue?"

“I'm sorry if I caused any trouble. I just want to find my sister." I close my eyes and restrain my building frustration. I have to tread lightly. “Will you help me, please?"

Reclining against the nose of the plane, rubbing a shammy cloth between his fingers, his smile morphs into something I don't quite understand. Ignoring my question, Bram speaks coldly. "I don't know what you're hiding, but I will find out."

“Excuse me?"

“Don't play innocent," he says with a venomous glint in those blue eyes.

“Innocent?" I ask.

“Innocent."

“Okay?" my voice trails off in confusion. Shaking my head, trying to ignore whatever he is trying to stir up. “Have you seen my sister or not?"

“I told you, I will figure you out. You're hiding something. And when I do—"

"Is that a threat?"

He tosses the cloth over his shoulder and put his hands forward. "I wouldn't dare threaten the Alpha's fated mate."

"He told you?"

My brow scrunches as I turn to hide the disheartening revelation. Why would Grant tell? Why didn't he keep it secret? It's just between us. It's our business. Can I trust anybody?

"Of course he told me. We're like brothers. We tell...Well, he tells me everything."

"Whatever. Where's my sister?"

"To tell the truth, he didn't have to tell me. The way you were hanging on him after knowing him for five minutes and that teenage showing off bullsh*t he did in the side-by-side, it was pretty f*ckin' obvious."

No longer able to hold back my anger, I let this Beta, Bram, get a real taste of what I think of scheming shifters like him. "Look, wannabe Alpha, a**hole, I know you don't like me. I knew from the moment I smelled you creep in the cabin behind us. And I really couldn't care less. I don't need you."

"Aw. So you do need something. Figures. Every female that runs into Grant needs something. Just because you're fated doesn't mean anything except he will be stupid enough to take in two more useless strays and give you what you think you need."

I back away and calm my tone. This a**hole is trying to catch me off guard. I need to remember why I'm here. "Where's my sister?"

Nonchalant, Bram responds, waving his hand carelessly in the air. "Oh, yeah. Her. Austin took her on a romp; I think that's what the kids are calling it these days. I can never keep up. They're probably out there humping like rabbits."

"If that boy touches my sister, I will—"

Bram pushes himself off the nose of the plane. "Woah... Woah... Calm down, pup. I'm sure he's being a gentleman. I taught him well. He'll let her come first."

"Motherf*cker!" I shout and swing a haymaker at Bram's left jaw. He dodges and slaps my hand down.

"Calm down, killer!"

"You better be wrong. If that boy touches my sister, I swear I'll—"

"I wouldn't if I were you. Not only is he Grant's favorite, I think he and your sister might be fated." Bram puts a hand to his mouth as if shocked. In a voice of phony concern, he continues, "Oh, no. That means if you try to break them apart, she'll hate you for the rest of your life. D*mned if you do. D*mned if you don't, I guess."

"You're such a d*ck."

"Look. You need to get out of here before your brother finds you. We don't need that piece of sh*t druggie coming around here trying to start a war. Personally, I'd rather not die because of you. The sooner you leave, the better."

Flustered at Bram, I say too much. "I couldn't agree more. The sooner, the better."

The b*stard reaches up and scratches at his chin, giving a crooked smirk that lets me know he got what he wanted. "Interesting."

“Everything alright?" Grant's gruff tone enquires from somewhere out of sight. I didn't know he was here. Is that why Bram was trying to catch me off guard?

Struggling even to remember what I said at the last minute, I don't reply to my fated lover.

As his shadow comes into sight, I hold my breath. Oh G*d, what did he hear?