Claimed as the Alpha's Second Luna

Chapter 2

Annie's POV:

"I can't help you with this, Luna. I refuse." I rose from my seat. "Jack should be finishing his training by now."

I turned and walked away.

On the way home, I looked forward to hearing about his day—the new things he'd learned and the stories he could never wait to tell me. Every day was the same. As soon as I reached the cabin, he'd come running out with his arms open.

But today, there was nothing.

No footsteps. No voice calling my name. The door stayed shut.

Something wasn't right. I pushed the door open.

There was no one in the room, only a piece of paper on the table.

If you want your son back, come to South Spring.

I had no idea who had taken him. It could have been a rogue passing through or one of Louis's old enemies. It didn't matter. Whoever had Jack, I had to face them.

I crushed the note in my fist and ran for South Spring.

A strange, bitter scent hung in the air.

It caught in the back of my throat before I reached the clearing, thick and cloying, turning every breath into something I had to fight for. I grabbed a tree trunk and held on.

Aphrodisiac herbs. Strong enough to drive a werewolf into heat.

My stomach clenched.

I recognized the scent half a second too late. A dark shape tore through the undergrowth. I couldn't move. Couldn't duck. My back slammed into rough bark, knocking the air from my lungs.

Lightning flashed behind my eyes.

A hand. Huge. Hot. Closed around my waist and fixed me there, spine to trunk, the weight of his body crushing the space between us. His breath came in wet, ragged pulls against the side of my throat.

I lifted my chin.

Alexander.

The herbs had stripped him of reason. Whatever was burning through his bloodstream, it left nothing behind but instinct.

The drug wasn't only affecting him. I could feel it burning through me too.

He lowered his head, but he didn't kiss me.

The herbal scent clinging to his skin filled every breath I took, heavy enough to coat the back of my throat. The heat rolling off his body washed over me.

His mouth moved to my other breast, just as hot and rough as before. My fingers found the back of his neck without my permission and held him there.

He groaned against my skin.

His hand slid between us. I heard the buckle of his belt. Then the blunt, damp head of his c**k pressed against the soaked fabric between my legs, and even through the thin barrier, I could feel how hard he was. How thick.

He shoved the fabric aside.

With one thrust, he buried himself to the hilt.

His c**k filled me so completely that my inner walls tightened around him on instinct. Every pull dragged against the swollen spot deep inside me, leaving another rush of wetness between my thighs.

I didn't want to want this. I didn't want any of it.

Every thrust dragged across the same swollen place inside me. My legs trembled harder each time he thrust back in.

The next thrust forced my hips forward anyway, grinding my c**t against the hard line of his pelvis until another moan escaped my lips.

He drove into me again and again, each thrust dragging another broken sound from my throat. My body tightened around him despite every part of me that wanted to resist, and my hips moved before I could stop them.

He didn't pull out. Even after he lost consciousness, he remained inside me.

Pale daylight filtered through the branches when I opened my eyes. His arm lay heavy across my ribs, and the smell of pine, sweat, and s*x clung to my skin.

Alexander lay beside me. His face slack, brows smooth. He looked like the Alpha everyone knew. Cold. Composed. As if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't spent the night buried inside me.

My dress was in shreds. My underthings were shoved to one side, the fabric stiff where his seed had dried. Finger-shaped bruises darkened the skin over my hips.

I shifted, and a warm pulse of his release slipped down the inside of my leg.

I didn't look at him.

I gathered the torn remains of my dress, held them against my chest, and started back toward the cabin.

The woods were quiet in the early light. My bare feet found the path without thinking—the same one I'd stumbled through last night, desperate to find Jack. Now I followed it back with bruises on my skin and his scent still clinging to me.

Every step made my thighs brush together, spreading the slickness that still coated my skin.

By the time I reached the cabin, my arm had gone numb from gripping the ruined dress against my chest, and my hand wouldn't stop trembling.

The door swung open.

She was sitting at my table.

Elena. A cup of tea balanced in her hands. Her sapphire eyes studied me with the same soft, measured grace she carried everywhere.

Her gaze moved over my face, my torn collar, the reddened skin at the base of my throat where his stubble had scraped raw. Her eyes caught on the bruises darkening above my collarbone. The heat of his mouth, pressing and sucking until the blood rose to the surface.

Something sharp flashed in her eyes before her expression smoothed into its usual calm.

She smiled.

"That went more smoothly than I expected."

My grip on the doorframe tightened until the wood bit into my palm. "Where's my son?"

"Jack is training." She rose without hurry. "I've arranged for the pack's best warrior to instruct him personally. The boy has real talent. He deserves proper instruction."

"You took him—"

"I'm helping him." She cut through my words without raising her voice. "You don't have a wolf, Annie."

She studied me without any trace of anger.

"You can love him. You can care for him. But you can't teach him what it means to be a werewolf. And in the Ironclaw Pack, strength is the only thing that matters. No one will step aside for him just because he has promise. He has to be stronger than the rest."

I couldn't argue. I had no argument.

"I wanted to do this slowly." She sighed. "But the Council made their third proposal this week. If Alexander doesn't produce an heir soon, they'll bypass me entirely and put another she-wolf in my place."

She reached out and straightened my torn collar. Her touch was feather-light. Almost tender.

"You don't want Alexander. You don't want the Luna's seat. You only want Jack." She paused. "That's why you're the only one I can trust."

I shut my eyes.

"What do you want me to do?"

Her smile returned as she took my hand.

"Keep letting my husband f**k you until you're pregnant."