Kiss An Alpha

Prologue

“This position isn't right, Abigail. Your legs need to be a bit higher.”

In one fluid motion, the man slipped his strong arms underneath her legs and dragged her down. Quickly, his broad shoulders contracted as he leapt on top of the girl and pinned her shoulders down onto the dirt floor. He was hovering over her trembling body and continued to push all of his weight down onto her shoulders. She was stuck. With the wind knocked out of her all she could manage to do was to sneer up at his grinning face.

“This bastard… if only he wasn’t so damned heavy,” She thought bitterly.

As she laid there caged beneath him, she heard him chuckle while beads of sweat dripped down from his handsome face.

“I’m a little disappointed, Abigail. I thought you said you were skilled.”

Abigail started to feel lightheaded as his sweet earthy scent invaded her senses. She narrowed her gaze at him and decided that there was no way in hell she was going to let this jerk win.

No giving in, no giving up, she reminded herself.

Gathering all of her confidence, she abruptly straightened her right arm and smacked him on his left ear—hard. The look of shock he had on his face was priceless and she savored every second of it.

He shut his eyes, trying to hastily recover from her attack, but Abigail was faster. Thrusting her knee upward, she pushed all of her force against his hip to break his balance. When he started to fall forward, she swiftly rolled out from her previous pinned position. In one fluid motion, she slipped her right hand under his armpit and clasped the back of his head into a firm headlock. Before the man could process what had happened, Abigail had him flat on his face while pinning him down with her right knee to the middle of his back. She applied a bit more pressure and leaned down right next to his ear.

“You were absolutely right about me, mister. I am very skilled,” she whispered.

Unable to fight back or escape his position, he tapped out and all of the cellmates gave her a round of applause. Giving a mocking bow, she smiled and grabbed the bottle of water that was offered by Emma.

Actually, she was the most normal and generous person that Abigail had met in this horrific place. Her long brown hair was twisted into a braid that fell to her waist and she possessed a pair of beautiful golden eyes, which currently looked like they were about to bulge out from extreme happiness.

“No one has ever won against Louis. How did you do that?” she asked in awe.

So, his name was Louis, Abigail thought as she walked over to grab her denim jacket.

Donning it over her once white t-shirt, she turned and studied the man that she had just defeated. She crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head to the side as she watched him stand up to dust himself off.

Arching one brow up in curiosity, she asked, “Hmmm? Is that so, Louis?”

Louis studied her for a full minute and then let out a pretentious snort.

“You can't be a human… I’m sure that you lied. You must be a rogue. Were you kicked out from a neighboring pack?”

“What are you talking about?” she carefully asked.

Was he mocking her? Abigail had no idea what these people were struggling with, except for the fact that they had some crazy delusions. Did they all suffer from the same mental disorder?!

“You would have smelled it if she was a rogue. She smells like a human and, just because she beat you to a pulp, you shouldn’t accuse her like that,” Emma interrupted.

Ignoring her admonishment, Louis grabbed a nearby towel and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“She’s too tough to be a human.”

“But, that's what I am,” Abigail said with a wide grin as she patted her own shoulder.

She had long figured out that self-confidence was the key to bravery and she practiced it as much as possible. Upon hearing her words, Emma's lips quirked up into a smile but Louis continued to look at her suspiciously as he dabbed the sweat off of his face.

“Then, if you are really a human, why are you here and who brought you?” he asked.

“I didn’t catch his name, but I’m in here because of some nutty old man,” she replied with a frustrating sigh. She flopped down onto the bunk mattress and continued, “I was sketching by a beautiful lake that’s near my hospital. As I sat there, this old guy came up to me and asked me to sketch a picture of his king. I didn't know what the hell he was talking about so I just decided to humor him. I asked him to describe what his king was like and began sketching the picture for him. After I had finished, the man looked at it and then suddenly I found myself locked up in here!”

Louis's face held a pensive expression. “What exactly did you draw?”

“You wanna see it?”

They both nodded and Abigail retrieved her backpack and took out her sketchbook. She loved to draw—to try and record the beautiful things she saw was one of her greatest enjoyments. She never went anywhere without her drawing pencils and sketchbook. As she flipped through the pages, Abigail came to the picture that landed her in this hell hole.

“Here,” she said, handing over her sketchbook to Emma.

Emma inhaled a sharp breath of surprise. Abigail scooted closer to Emma to admire her handiwork. She smiled down at the strong and compact body that was tinged with a yellow-gold coloring pencil that she had carefully chosen. It had powerful forelegs, sharp teeth and jaws that looked like they were capable of crushing a car.

Louis moved closer to inspect the sketch and yelled in disbelief, “It's a lion!”

Abigail furrowed her brows in confusion. What was the big deal?

“The old man said that his king was smart and cunning, but sometimes arrogant and temperamental. That he was aloof and would kill anyone who dared to touch him. To top it all off, the old geezer looked like he just emerged from the freaking jungle so I thought he was describing a lion,” she explained.

Louis barked out a loud hearty laugh and leaned so far back that he fell onto the dirt floor.

“Oh! Oh, God!” His body shook with laughter as tears swam in his eyes. “My brother would sentence you to death if he heard about all of this.”

Abigail’s head jerked up. She wasn’t she if she heard him right. “Your brother?”