Alpha's War

Chapter 2-1

2

Nash

This time of day, The Pit is mostly deserted, which is a good thing, my lion is riled up enough at the lingering smell of shifters. I let him out and prowl around the grounds. We’re far enough in a run-down industrial district that no one will see a lion pacing the perimeter of a dingy warehouse. No one comes back here but shifters, and the shifters who come here will recognize me. This is my territory. My kingdom. I let my mad lion mark his territory, slinking along the chain link fence that surrounds the parking lot, then I shift and put my clothes back on. I head inside for a drink, trying not to think of how pathetic I’ve become.

A few minutes later, a blond man steps inside, sniffing the air. At the bar, I raise my glass in invitation. He nods and steps back, allowing his companion to enter before him. A striking, young Asian woman with long dark hair approaches. She stares right at me. I meet her gaze in mild challenge. She’s a new shifter—one of the more successful creations of Dr. Smyth’s, and dominant. My lion normally would challenge her boldness, but right now he doesn’t see her as a threat. This is a meeting of allies, and he knows he’s about to get what he wants.

Sam sits. Without a word, he lays his phone on the bar, screen up. There’s a picture of a woman leaving a house, her face half shuttered behind the screen door.

My chest tightens. Denali. The room blurs, turning red.

Sam puts a finger on the screen and swipes to show me the rest. Denali headed down the drive, entering a car. Long legs in cutoff shorts, a plain white tee showcasing lean taut arms. “My contact took them this morning. Confirmed the address of the house. She seems to be living there.” Sam slides a piece of paper to me, but I can’t tear my eyes away from the picture. In every photo, there’s a serious expression on her face—not quite sad. Distant.

“Is this her?” Layne asks.

“Yes.” I find my voice. “It’s her.” Denali. Mine, my lion roars, shaking the bars of his cage. He wants to come out and go on the hunt. Find Denali, make his claim. Mine.

Crimson clouds my vision. I blink, and everything goes black.

I raise my head, realizing I’ve been silent for a few minutes. The air is thick with tension. Layne’s eyes are shifter bright. They know I’m unhinged. Hell, I could’ve killed Sam last year when he decided the best way to enlist my aid in finding Dr. Smyth was to go a round in the ring with me. He brought up Denali and I partially shifted right there in the cage. Put my claws right through him. But he survived, and we got Smyth. And this is what he promised me in return—finding my mate.

“Sorry it took so long,” Sam says. The hair on his arms stands on end, but his voice is calm. He might not be the biggest shifter, but he’s a cool head under pressure. Unlike the rest of us. “I thought for sure we had her last time.”

My fist clenches and I have to work to relax it. “She probably moves around a lot.” She’ll be hiding like we are. Always looking over her shoulder. Never knowing if someone who wants to do more testing will show up.

“She seems to have settled. The landlady of this place wouldn’t say when she moved in or give any information about her.” Sam flicks the paper bearing the address. “But we better move fast. Layne and I can—”

“No.” I pocket the paper. “Just me. Alone.”

“With all due respect—” Sam eases off the barstool a second after me. He doesn’t try to get in my way, but he steps too close. Color explodes behind my eyes. Darkness dances at the corners, then takes over.

A second later, I come to. My hands are fisted in Sam’s shirt. I’ve slammed him against the bar. He shows his neck, a wolf’s signal of yielding. His hands go up, spread in surrender, but my lion doesn’t care. My canines ache as they grow, a growl blasting from my throat.

A second later pain explodes in my back.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.” A purr in my ear, soft and sibilant. The claws in my skin flex and tighten, ten points of agony, needle sharp. “Be a good kitty and let him go.”

Wrenching hold of my lion, I release Sam’s shirt, and snarl as the claws bite deeper.

“Layne,” Sam murmurs. A half purr, half growl and the weight leaves my back abruptly. I stretch, ignoring the shriek of pain along my spine, and turn slowly. The woman stares straight at me with almond-shaped cat eyes. If she were male, my lion would want to have a round with her, even though I’m the asshole here. But I admire her strength. Her grace. And I appreciate what she and Sam are doing for me.

Still, my lion can’t stop me from posturing. “Most wouldn’t provoke the king of the beasts in his territory.”

Layne meets my challenge with a glare. Sam slips to her side and she takes his hand without breaking her gaze. Don’t threaten my mate, she seems to say. My lion grudgingly approves.

“Maybe it’s best if you do go alone, Nash.” Sam tugs Layne to the door.

As soon as they step outside, I cover my face with a hand. My forehead is clammy with effort from keeping my lion on a chain. He’s violent, lashing out at friend and foe. I’m dangerous. Desperate. I’m dying, and there’s only one cure.

Denali.

The paper in my pocket nudges my palm. I crumple it and fight the rising red tide that threatens my vision. It hurts, but I push it back.

“Well, boss? You gonna get her?” Parker stands in front of me.

I didn’t realize the gang had followed me to The Pit from my house, but it figures. They’re omnipresent. “I can’t.” I force the words out, ignoring my lion’s howl of loss.

“Ya must,” Declan says at my side. “Your lion can’t hold on any longer.”

“I know.” I close my eyes. I was supposed to find Denali, go to her. Apologize. Make sure she’s safe.

It’s too late. My lion is out of control, and I need to find someone to kill him. To kill me.

“If someone was able to kill you, they would’ve by now,” Parker points out and I realize I spoke aloud. “You fight every day—and win. The biggest, baddest shifters, the half deranged—anyone who will step into the ring. Sometimes two at a time.”

“Ya can’t stop fighting,” Declan murmurs. “Not that I’m complaining. Business is good. Bets are up. The cops stopped sniffing around, and the Shifter Fight Club in Tucson only made us more famous.” He swirls his drink. “The Pit. Home of the King of the Beasts.”

Right. And what happens if one day my lion kills someone in the ring?

If I end up like my father, a murderer?

Aw, who am I kidding? I’ve been a murderer since the first day I shifted in the middle of an engagement in Afghanistan. I thought Smyth could help me control my lion. All he did was make it worse.

I snarl. I’m tempted to walk out, to drive to Denali’s house and tell her everything. She might forgive me, once she gets over the shock.

But I can’t. Between the flashbacks, the violence, and my lion’s insanity, I’ve built a cage stronger than any Data-X used to hold me.