King Alpha Gone Rogue

CHAPTER SIX: NO WAY BACK

Why does she smell so bad? Starrk complained drolly as Sam raised his hand above his head and allowed the full force of his axe to fall on the log of wood on the tree stump. Being near her makes me want to puke my lunch.

Sam tried hard not to snicker at his wolf’s thought, but he did acknowledge that Arella Chesterfield smelled like sh*t. A smile formed on his lips despite himself as he thought of that feisty female. With the fond memory in mind, he lifted his hand again and dropped it down with full force a second time and the log split in two exact pieces. He was making provisions for the night – it tended to get cold around there, and the heater was not operational for the moment.

Or was it just a pretext not to be in the same house when she awoke? It wasn’t that she was repugnant, on the contrary her looks were her forte, but her animosity was not something he appreciated. Being in the highest rank in the werewolf hierarchy, he was used to utmost respect from his peers, and such effrontery appalled him. Despite the fact that she was right in some of her statements.

Sam loathed the fact that she forced him to self-introspect, to question his decision, but at that time it truly felt like he didn’t have a choice. The mission came into his mind immediately, and his razor-sharp focus returned to his task at hand, sending tiny shards of wood flying in the air.

“Uggggggh!” a female voice cried, and Sam lifted his head mission forgotten to catch a brooding Ella rubbing her arm violently, like she was trying to warm herself.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, putting down the axe, and straightening himself to have a better look at her. “Did you get hit by a piece of wood?”

“Huh?” she queried in a dazed wonder as she blinked at him groggily, and the action caused him to take in her appearance. She was wearing one of his shirts which stopped right above her knee exposing white toned legs, the large neckline slopping to display one creamy shoulder, and her hair was tousled in wild disarray.

A quick look down her nape forced him to register the fact that there was no mark on her skin which suggested that she hadn’t been claimed yet. Some part of him rejoiced insidious thought too much over that fact, and he shoved it far behind his mind.

The fact that she didn’t take the time to fix her appearance hit him hard, but the s****l pull that he felt for her right now took him even more by surprise. All he wanted to do was pin her to a nearby wall, and check whether she was wearing any underwear.

And if she were, maybe dipping his finger inside to feel her moist heat, and rub his finger against her cl*t until she…

Woah! Down, boy. Watch where you’re going with that! Starrk put a halt to his carnal fantasy and Sam blinked to come back to reality. It was such a pity she smelled so bad, otherwise she had the power to make him go ballistics with her appearance. Starrk was very particular about scents.

You’re right, she’s not ours, Sam told his wolf with an inward sigh. Even if she were, she despises us wholeheartedly.

“No, I’m alright,” she reassured with a thick voice which suggested that she’d just woken up. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked hesitantly, eyes fluttering in every direction like a doe caught in limelight, not meeting him in the eye.

Perversely, he derived a certain pleasure taunting her, and he couldn’t resist goading her that time as well. “Now, that’s a leading question,” he drawled in his sexiest voice, the one which made women go crazy with desire. “I wonder what you’re capable of?” he suggested in obvious provocation.

Are we flirting with her now? She’s not my mate! She stinks!

Just having a little fun, Sam defended quickly, unable to remove his eyes from her, as an answering heat flashed in her teal eyes. Under the sunlight, the color was a dark green that overwrote the blue, and Sam was fascinated with the chameleon characteristic.

“Do you know how to prepare breakfast?” he redirected the subject to mundane conversation in case he was tempted to act on his instincts instead of his head.

His question seemed to break her out of the stupor she seemed to be into, and she blinked at him incredulously for one second more than necessary. “Huh?” she asked dazedly. “Why would you want to know that?”

It was with great sadistic pleasure that he bestowed a full-blown smile on her making sure she knew that he was immensely enjoying himself. “Well…,” he started indolently. “You did spend the night here for free. I reckon the least you could do is prepare us some breakfast.” He pretended an outraged gasp. “Or are you too spoiled to manage that?”

She seemed to grit her teeth ferociously to keep herself from responding to his deliberate provocation.

“What do you want to eat?” she said instead with a calmness that surprised him. Had he teased one of those spoiled alpha’s daughter’s he’d been espousing whilst eh was still in the pack, they would have either caused a tantrum or tried to get away with the task by seducing him.

Ella, on the other side, was ready to slog, something he hadn’t imagined by far. It made him feel guilty about assuming that she was someone who didn’t know how to prepare a meal in the first place.

Instead of showing her his real feelings he just shrugged. “I have bacon and eggs. Simple and fast. What do you think?” Besides he was sure she was going to make a fuss about making her work when she was just a guest for the day.

She nodded without a smile or an acknowledgement. “I think I can manage,” she informed politely before walking into the cabin, and Sam nearly howled with frustration when her heart-shaped rounded derriere disappeared inside the doorway.

Despite his earlier behavior, he still expected her to come running to him for help or scream her frustration for having to work her way through, but when she cleared her throat half an hour later, he looked up in surprise.

“Breakfast’s ready. Would you like to eat now?”

The scene was so domesticated that it touched him in a place where he didn’t appreciate. Right to his heart, which he preserved more fiercely than police hounds. Nobody – nobody got to that without his permission, which was not often.

“I’ll set the table,” he finally compromised, finding it hard to admit that he must have been prejudiced about her.

They ate in silence, it was not awkward, but nothing particularly thrilling either. There was still a thick layer of animosity between them, which was salient in the tense atmosphere surrounding them. Sam tried to shrug it off with his usual insouciance but the odor which drifted from her was really assuaging.

Tell her that she smells bad, Starrk advised in a brooding voice, like he was expecting her to smell good.

Yeah, right. And have my head handed over to me on a silver platter? he mocked silkily. Knowing her obdurate nature, she would probably take offence at his comment. Besides, it was hardly a conversation he wanted to launch with the female. He was already pissed with her for having spoiled his mission with Emir Royal last night.

“Tell me,” he ordered in a commanding voice once she’d gobbled up the food like she was famished. Once again, he found that he liked the fact that she had an appetite, instead of the usual fondling that the females did around their food.

She straightened her position and stared at her with flaring nostrils for so long that he feared that she wouldn’t provide an answer. Then, she looked right back at him, her beautiful eyes filled with anger and incrimination that told him she understood his question alright. Only when he didn’t break eye contact from so much condemnation and reproach that she finally relented in the form of a beleaguered sigh and sagged against her seat.

“They have control on all of our resources. Everything. Even our food.”

Sam gave a brisk nod. “I’m already aware of that. How do you think the pack had survived so far? I have been sending them food secretly every month via a secret source.”

“Old Hannigan?” Ella guessed easily making him blink in surprise. “You think that’s enough? Food is really the least of our worries. For the past two months, the Mongrels have turned all our hunters into one of their own and are asking them to track fresh blood every day. It’s becoming difficult for us to remain in hiding with the deaths of actual humans.”

Sam hitched in a sharp breath. “Actual humans? I thought we had a rule about hunting only animals and corpses?” He was enraged with himself for not having kept tabs on his pack whilst he’d been on his secret mission. As an Alpha King, he should have been the first informed of that new turn.

Ella snorted derisively most probably harboring the same thought. “Welcome to the real world, Alpha King,” she spat with utmost respect, and Sam clenched his jaw tightly at her disrespect, tempted to remind her of her rank, but was more eager to find out more. Fist closed so forcefully that his nails were forming crescents in his palm, but he didn’t react to her hatred to allow her to go on.

She sighed at his unresponsiveness before continuing. “You really think that those barbaric creatures will follows norms?! You’re really more disillusioned that I thought. The Mongrels enjoy torturing living humans, drinking their blood while they’re still alive! Everybody who witnessed the scene said it was horrendous to watch.”

“How many?” he clipped in a tight voice. No wonder Ella was so wounded up – the killing of humans had been banned by their pack decades ago when they discovered that they could survive on animal bloods or fresh cadavers.

“Three so far,” she informed in a dull voice.

He hissed in a sharp breath at the number. Three humas dead. It wasn’t long before those murders would raise the suspicion of the local police, risking exposure to the real world. Sam berated himself for not having enough insight to have checked whether the Mongrels had usurped his pack. He’d assumed that after the attack two years ago, they’d gone into hiding too afraid to expose themselves to other werewolf packs.

It was a disillusionment. The Mystic Shadow was one of the strongest and largest werewolf community, and Sam felt like a fool to have ignored their upcoming invasion. What kind of a fool did that make him? Going blindly on a mission to eliminate them when there was a more imminent danger to attend to?

“So?” she asked with her elbows on the table supporting her chin against her palm as she perused him with avid interest. “Where have you been for the past two years?”

Sam was affronted by her question, although to her it seemed that she was giving him a chance to explain himself. He was her Alpha King, damn it. She should have more faith than that – he wasn’t answerable to her! It was already hard to discover that he had three murders on his conscience without that little minx adding fuel to the fire.

Yeah, show the lass her place, Starrk added, feeling almost as insulted as himself.

“Does all this arrogance come from the fact that your father is the current substitute leader of my pack?” he questioned with deceptive calmness, although every tensed cell in his body was belying the equanimity he was showing.

Far from putting her back in her place, Ella seemed to be more piqued with his arrogance, pursed her lips in abject displeasure but refrained from uttering a hasty apology like any other female would have done. Sam suddenly realized that it had nothing to do with the hierarchy – that girl had more sass than he could account for.

Yeah, and you love that! Starrk teased him.

Shut up! Sam grounded back angry at himself for letting the attraction he felt for her go out of hand. He should really not allow himself to forget that she had completely messed up with his mission with Royal.

“How DARE you? Stay out of my business!” he cried with more fervor than he’d intended.