CLAIMED BY THE RUTHLESS ALPHA

I’m at the back of the room, but that doesn’t mean I can’t feel the intensity of our new alpha’s verdant stare. It’s an electric current that runs through me like a live charge under my skin. When goosebumps spring up over my bare arms, I lift my hands to rub at them. Remember where you are, Seraphine. Just in time, I catch myself and curl my fingers into fists so tight that I won’t forget again. The pain will help me remember. You’re the same as everyone else. Act like it. In a dining room too small to hold sixty shifters, when Darius Blackthorn howled, we crammed ourselves in it with room to spare. That doesn’t mean it isn’t stifling, as I’m once again reminded that only a handful know what hygiene means. Some scents are clean, others less so, but most are downright nasty. Darius’s eyes make another slow circuit of the room. Mine continue their journey over the expanse of golden muscle he’s poured into an insubstantial wooden dining chair. Who takes over a new pack and introduces themselves wearing nothing but blood-splattered skin? Did he lose his clothes along the way or just plain forget them? Not that I’m complaining, but still. He’s almost perfect. Too bad his one obvious flaw is one I could never overlook. Finished with my perusal while he’s still busy with his, I inch back. One small step at a time. Not fast enough to attract attention, or slow enough that it’ll take forever to get out. At the right pace. A speed I’ve had years to work on. Whatever else he’s called us here for has nothing to do with me. And I have plans to make. Three steps back, two to the right, and I’ll hit the hallway. From the hallway, it’ll be another handful of steps to the front door of the farmhouse, and then I’m out. Just like all the other times the old alphas have howled at us to gather, I was one of the last to arrive. The last one in means the first one out. It also means an almost bearable distance between me and whichever alpha happened to be in charge at the time. Tonight is no exception. I take another half step back, my full attention on the new alpha in our midst whom I’m slowly backing away from, just like all my packmates. “Seraphine Stone.” The new alpha’s voice is a low growl that electrifies me. My packmates twist and turn just enough that suddenly the only thing between us is empty space. Piercing green eyes, framed with long dark lashes a shade darker than his chestnut brown hair, landed on me directly on mefor the first time. And I do what no self-respecting wolf shifter would ever do: I freeze like a deer caught in headlights. But then Terabless her tiny crop top and denim hot pants wearing selfsteps between us and blocks his view of me. I don’t blame her for wanting to catch his eye. Clothed Darius Blackthorn would be impressive. With all that heavy muscle on display? It’s almost enough for me to forget that he’s an alpha. Almost, but not quite. Tera can take him. He’s nothing but a threat to me. I can’t see her face, but I know the exact smile she’ll be aiming his way. The heavy-lidded, sexy one that always has the men in the pack trotting after her into her cabin. “Alpha?” she purrs. “Tera. Can I” “Move. Now.” Darius’s gaze finds mine over Tera’s shoulder. Tera’s mouth closes with an audible snap. As she takes a step out of the way, she glares at me as if I’m to blame for Darius failing to notice her long blonde hair, tiny waist, and big blue eyes the way the rest of the men do. Since her beauty is second only to her spite, I know what’s coming later: trouble I could really do without, especially now. “Seraphine Stone. Come here.” As I approach, his eyes spark with knowledge, and a slow smile stretches across his harshly beautiful face. My heart sinks. He knows. He can only be smiling at me like that because he knows something. I don’t have to guess what that something is. A shifter like me shouldn’t have been able to survive as long as I have in a pack as diseased as this. The taint coats every surface of the cabins and farmhouse of Stone pack land, an hour east of a hole-in-the-wall Dexter, a Wyoming town with a population of sub-two thousand. Eyes bore into me from all sides. Hard stares that make the hair on the back of my neck stand tall as I stalk toward the man who minutes ago introduced himself. But my breaths are slow, measured, despite the slow, creeping terror about what the hell he wants with me. I force myself to meet his gaze all the way, refusing to look away because the others will see it as a weakness. That’s one thing no one can afford to be here. Nothing will get you killed faster than that. I stop a few feet away. His eyes are somehow brighter, more intense this close to him. But that’s not all I notice. His smell is intoxicating. Like new leather and wild forest, but all man. And death. Let’s not forget the bodies he left piled up outside while you’re busy panting over him, Seraphine. He sits back in his chair. The wood creaks under his weight, the only sound in the room. “Sit.” He points to the space on the hardwood floor in front of him. My wolf cowers at his order. She’s all too happy to prostrate herself at his feet like he’s a god, but all I do is fold my arms over my t-shirt covered chest and narrow my eyes. “No.” His eyes go on another exploration. Instead of the room, this time it's my body. He takes his time with it, starting with my faded pink t-shirt, over my denim shorts, and finally my bare feet. Then right back up again. For several seconds, his gaze lingers on my dark russet brown hair. I’ve lost count of how many hours I’ve cursed having hair long enough to reach my ass, and with just enough of a curl that makes brushing it a long and often painful experience. I’ll cut it one day. But in terms of priorities, that one sits pretty far down on the list. His lips curve. “It’s not often I have to repeat myself. Most people don’t usually survive it, but since it’s my first day, I’ve decided to be generous.” I wouldn’t call ripping out the throats of seven men our better included generous. But I hold my tongue. Barely. People who antagonize alphas never live long in this pack. Or at all. Only someone suicidal would go up against the strongest, the fastest to shift, and the quickest to anger. °°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°