Caught by the Triplet Alphas

Chapter Two

CYRUS

Cyrus snickered as the woman he was currently following in the woods spat out a nasty curse and tried to tug free of some particularly grippy branches. The mouth on her could rival a soldier’s, and he had known a great many. Some of his men were practically cursing connoisseurs, and this little she wolf could give even the filthiest of them a run for their money.

He’d been following her for some time now and had seen her stumble through more than one thicket in that time. Her dark hair was full of leaves and twigs, and there were scratches and scrapes marring her skin that he could see even from a distance.

She was gorgeous, though. So gorgeous that the rough treatment of the forest didn’t detract from her beauty in the slightest. Her rich hair glowed mahogany in the waning light, and the scratches on her arms only served to highlight the creamyness of her skin. It looked soft enough that he ached to touch her.

No doubt about it. She was gorgeous. And suspicious.

When Cyrus had come out into these woods the last thing he’d expected to find was a she-wolf. He was looking for rogues, not sweet maidens. She was wearing a simple cloth shirt and blouse with no jacket and only a small satchel over her soldier. She had most definitely come from the nearby village of the Ashland pack. So what was she doing out here?

He and his brothers had picked this pack as one of the stops on their tour of the Earth Kingdom because of the rogue activity at the border. The Ashland Pack was a small outpost on the edge of the border between the Umber Packlands and the Earth Kingdom. Well, what used to be the Umber Packlands before Umber fell to treason fourteen years ago. Now it was just a vast empty region filled with monsters, ferals, rogues, and worse.

All that was to say that the borderlands around Ashland were actually very dangerous for a lone wolf, so what was this innocent maiden thinking?

She seemed to be looking for something. At first, Cyrus had thought she was out here for a clandestine meetup with a lover, though he couldn’t imagine any male worth his salt would let their girl wander around the woods alone. It would be far too easy for a rogue to snatch her up and do whatever they wanted to her.

But as he’d followed her he became more and more confused. She didn’t meet up with anyone. And the furtive way she kept glancing around made it seem like she was actually afraid to come across someone else this deep in the forest. So if she was out here alone, planned to be alone, and knew the dangers, what the hell was she doing here>

She also wasn’t wearing a jacket and it rankled Cyrus’s protective instincts something fierce. It was nearly yuletide, the sun was going down and there was fresh snow on the ground. She needed a jacket. Or she should be in wolf form like he was.

He sniffed the air, his canine nose making short work of the myriad of smells around him. He could pick out hers easily. She smelled like honey and spice, the sweetness lingered on his tongue and made him want to get closer. To bury his head in her chest and inhale.

But underneath that intoxicating honey and spice scent was a slight muskyness that he was very familiar with. Wolf. She was a wolf, just like him. So why was she battling the bushes and brambles with her delicate human form when she could simply shift into her wolf form and make it so much easier?

She was an enigma. And even though Cyrus should abandon her to her secrets and go back to searching for a passable rogue for he and his brother’s use he just couldn’t seem to drag himself away. She was enchanting.

She began to slow and he did as well, making sure to keep far enough back that he wouldn't be spotted or scented. He didn’t need to worry. This girl was no warrior or tracker. She obviously didn’t notice him trailing her through the woods. Even the few times he could have sworn she’d swung those amber eyes his way she hadn’t given the slightest indication that she saw anything other than snow covered trees.

She wasn’t a warrior or tracker but he was. He was one of the best, if not the best the Heavens Pack had to offer. And only a little bit of that was a brag. His golden fur was perfect for hunting in the waning dappled light. Hunting, or stalking young women.

She snapped another curse that would make a sailor blush. What a spitfire he thought encouragingly. If she was unmated maybe he could convince her to spend some time with him and his brothers before they left. They’d already exhausted their maids and servants on the way here. At least, they exhausted the ones who wanted to be exhausted. It was well past time for some fresh meat.

So lost in the idea of peeling that dirty blouse off her delicate shoulders, Cyrus almost missed when the girl came to a stop. He planted his paws and crouched low in the underbrush. What was she doing?

It looked like she was inspecting a plant up ahead. Little cold for some botany, wasn’t it? He crawled on his belly for a closer look.

It was mistletoe. What would she possibly need mistletoe for? He’d seen the pack hall when they had arrived and it was already completely decked out with bushels of leaves. So what could she possibly be-

She began to pick the berries.

Surely not. Surely she wouldn’t be so naive as to eat the berries, right?

Cyrus began to doubt that conviction as he watched her fill her satchel to the brim with the pale berries. He couldn’t let her do this. She could get seriously ill, or worse, die!

Before he could think through what he was about to do he was out of wolf form and pushing through the same brambles that had caught her lovely hair.

“Wait!”