Wanted by the Alphas (An Extremely Sensual Paranormal Shifter Romance) (3 page)

The thing is that Lucien Walker does not seem
to be the kind of guy who wants a relationship either. A conquest,
yes. An easy fuck, maybe. But not a relationship.

“You tell us when to begin,” Lucien says to
Shannon. His eyes gleam with an unmistakable spark of desire.

She swallows. Jared eyes her balefully, aware
of Lucien’s obvious attraction to her.

Lifting up her chin to mask the sea of
uncertainties boiling within her, she says: “On the count of
three.”

The guys grip each other’s fists tighter. The
air is electric around the table despite the humidity from outside.
Lucien’s eyes never leave hers. A delicious tingle runs down her
spine and sends a heat wave into her groin, which is rapidly
becoming moist. Few men have affected her in the manner Lucien
Walker is affecting her now.

She says, “One . . . two . . . three.”

The atmosphere immediately becomes charged as
the two men grip each other’s fists in strained embrace. Both men’s
forearms are completely exposed. Their muscles bulge as their brows
furrow in concentration.

Some customers from the other tables are
getting up from the chairs and crowding closer to watch, as are the
waiters. Shannon sees all this from the periphery of her vision,
because she doesn’t dare take her eyes off the dueling
contestants.

She remembers an episode from one and a half
years ago when Jared first started to turn feral. He had a run in
with a couple of thugs from a local gang. It was in a quiet alley,
and Jared and she had decided to take a shortcut to get to the
other street. They were ambushed at knifepoint by two youths who
suddenly materialized from a dark doorway.

She was frightened at first when she saw the
gleam of the knife angled at her.

“I’ll be taking that pretty purse, Miss,”
says the youth who was pointing his knife at her throat.

“And I’ll be emptying your pockets,” says the
other youth, who has his knife poised at Jared’s throat.

“And what if I don’t wish to do that?” Jared
says calmly. She can feel the power coursing through him by the way
his neck muscles bunch.

“You have no choice in the matter, pretty
man,” the youth says, grinning. “Give your wallet over or he’ll cut
your girlfriend’s pretty throat.”

“And maybe gut her like a pig after I’m
through with her.” The one on her side lifts her hair up and smells
it. “She’s real pretty.”

“Jared,” she whimpers, “just give him your
wallet.”

That is when Jared explodes. He has been
gaining in muscle strength and agility since ‘the change’, and even
in his current form, he is lethal. With a few quick, sharp chops,
he floored the two youths. They were writhing in pain and groaning
on the ground. Their arms were bent in unnatural angles.

She gazed up at him with new fear in her
eyes.

This very same strength – even more magnified
with the passing of time – now dances in Jared’s sleek and enhanced
muscles. She imagines him pushing down Lucien’s arm and breaking it
off with a pop at the elbow. Jared is capable of doing that too,
and he has recently acquired a cruel streak which frankly frightens
her.

This was why he was so eager to take on this
quarrel with Lucien. Because part of him wants to show off what he
can do. She doesn’t think it’s a good idea to call anyone’s
attention to them, but she may as well try talking to a cliff wall.
They are bound to attract trouble wherever they go.

To her surprise, Lucien seems very well
matched in the strength department. The man is huge, no doubt, but
Jared has to be using all his accelerated capabilities. Unless
Jared isn’t even trying yet. But both men appear to be taxed, with
their forearm muscles in complete and severe tension. The veins in
their forehead throb and their jaws are clenched.

Come on, she thinks. And she is not
completely sure who she is cheering for.

Then she sees the telltale twitch in Jared’s
cheek, and she knows he is channeling all his strength. And he has
considerable strength even when he is in his human form.

Lucien’s forearm starts to bend. His eyes
narrow as he fights back.

She raises her knuckles to her mouth and
bites on them. The anticipation is killing her.The people around
them crowd closer.

“Come on, Mr. Walker,” says the waiter who
has shown them in.

“You can do it, Mr. Walker.”

Lucien’s forearm is now three inches off the
table. He is grunting and resisting everything Jared has to throw
at him. It is not a fair contest, Shannon thinks. No normal human
being can go up against Jared.

Lucien’s forearm comes up again in a burst of
strength. Now he is almost back to midline. Jared seems
surprised.

Jared starts to growl. Once again, he takes
Lucien’s arm down in a pendulum arc of strength. Beads of sweat dot
both men’s foreheads. Shannon’s teeth indent her knuckles, and she
takes them away, surprised to see the deep tooth marks.

Lucien has not had the upper hand in this
contest of wills yet. Not once has his forearm brought Jared’s down
across the midline.

“Raise you ten dollars on the dark-haired
guy,” mutters one patron behind Shannon.

She feels a flush going into her cheeks.

She’s close enough to the two men to smell
their sweat of locked determination. She’s close enough to see
every scalloped vein on their temples and arms, every detail of
their grim faces. She finds herself admiring Lucien Walker’s face
again. Truly, he has the face of a Nordic god. His chin with the
little cleft juts out like a profile on a Scandinavian coin. His
blue, blue eyes sparkle with contained effort.

Because she is studying him surreptitiously
(or at least, as surreptitiously as she would like to think), she
sees the sudden change in color that comes over his eyes.

It is fleeting. She doesn’t think anyone else
has noticed it. But it is unmistakable. One moment, his eyes are
cornflower blue – the startling blue of an Impressionist painting –
and the next, they are completely black, as though his irises have
been taken over by his pupils. It is as if an eclipse has come over
the sun.

Then, as quickly as it has appeared, it is
gone.

She blinks. Is she imagining things?

Lucien Walker seems to have a burst of
strength. For the first time since the arm wrestling began, he now
has inched Jared’s arm over the midline. Gasps of appreciation
issue from the onlookers. Jared is shocked.

“Urrrr,” he grunts. With another feral spurt
of energy, he slowly claws his way back.

But Lucien is unstoppable. His arm comes down
again and forces Jared’s hand down . . . down . . . down.

“Oh!” The gasp which escapes her lips makes
Jared’s gaze dart at hers for a split second.

That second is all Lucien needs. He slams
Jared’s arm down against the table with a thump. Jared cries out
with the pain.

The little crowd erupts in applause. Hometown
boy wins!

“Fuck!” Jared cries. He is clearly
disbelieving over what just happened. He stares at Lucien’s smug
face.

She knows what he is thinking. No one has
ever bested Jared before in a show of strength since the Change.
She’s thinking the same thing about Lucien.

What the hell are you?

WINNINGS

“I’ll be collecting my winnings now,” Lucien
says, standing up.

They both massage their elbows. It has been a
strong, well-matched contest. Jared is still glowering, and Shannon
can tell he will not be satisfied with this outcome. He will demand
a rematch.

“I’m sorry,” Lucien continues, shifting his
gaze to her, “but we haven’t been properly introduced. I am Lucien
Walker, as you have no doubt deduced. You are?”

He leaves it hanging.

She discovers her tongue. “I’m Shannon.”

“I know. I heard your name the first time
from your brother. But I would like to know the full name of the
beautiful woman I am going to date.”

Jared bridles at this, but she stays his arm.
He won it fair and square.

“I’m Shannon Bellamy. And this is my brother,
Jared Bellamy.”

“So you are indeed brother and sister.”

“Um, we are not actually related by blood. My
mother married his father and I decided to take the name
‘Bellamy’.”

“That’s too much information, sis,” Jared
says sarcastically.

“No, on the contrary, I find it very
interesting.” Lucien’s blue eyes favor hers again, and a thrill of
excitement shoots down her gut. “May I pick you up tonight,
Shannon, at seven thirty?”

Her mouth goes dry. “I-I don’t know where
we’ll be staying.”

“Yeah, Shannon,” Jared cuts in. He puts a
proprietary hand on the small of her back. “We’ll have to be going.
See you later, Lucien Walker.” He pronounces it as though it is
acid in his mouth. “Come on, Shannon.”

“Wait,” she says, turning back to an
increasingly amused Lucien, “I’ll leave you my number.”

She fumbles in her purse for her cellphone.
Her movements are nervous, jittery. Lucien makes her nervous,
especially with the way he watches her. Jared makes her nervous
because you can practically smell the agitation coming off him in
waves.

“Wait,” Lucien says, “there’s another part of
the bargain I haven’t disclosed to either of you. I would be
honored if you both would be my guests for the night in this modest
hotel.”

Both she and Jared are taken aback.

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” she says,
licking her lips.
Does he really want me . . . or is he playing
both of us?
She remembers the darkness which has come over
Lucien’s eyes and she wonders if he knows she saw it. But she
doesn’t sense a danger vibe from him.

You’re interested in me.

I’m interested in you too.

But in what capacity?

Jared says, “Why, thank you, Lucien. That is
very generous of you.” He has his hand on her back again. “So
generous that we will both accept.”

What? She darts a look at him in surprise.
She didn’t think he would accept Lucien’s offer. She thought he
would be too proud.

But perhaps she thought wrong. Perhaps he
wants his rematch tonight. Perhaps he wants
revenge
on
Lucien for besting him in front of a dozen people. Perhaps he
noticed Lucien’s fleeting metamorphosis and he wants to investigate
further.

“Excellent.” Lucien smiles at Jared. It’s a
smile that doesn’t quite touch his eyes. There’s a challenge in his
expression.
I’ll find out who you really are
.

A shudder runs down her spine. Is this such a
good idea after all to remain here? Something bad is going to
happen, she can feel it in her gut.

The waiter says tactfully, “I’ll get the
bellboy to bring up your bags. Which room shall I put Mr. and Ms.
Bellamy in, sir?”

“Not a room but two suites,” Lucien
pronounces. “Give them the Heartwood and Northam suites, Tod, and
break out two bottles of champagne. Nothing but the gracious best
for our guests.”

The waiter grins. “Of course, sir.”

As he scuttles off to get the bellboy,
Shannon can’t help feeling that everything is going in a way that
neither she nor Jared would have dreamt of.

HEARTWOOD

The Heartwood Suite is not as huge as most
hotel suites go, but this is a boutique hotel and Shannon supposes
it is as good as it gets in Dolphin’s Bay. The suite consists of a
small lounge where a patterned and purposefully mismatched sofa set
forms the décor. A bucket of ice lies on the table before the couch
and a bottle of champagne has been placed in it.

Too bad she doesn’t like champagne. Alcohol
of any sort sends her mind into a tailspin and her focus
unbalanced.

The carpet is plush under her bare feet. She
has already shrugged off her heels and her tired feet sink into the
softness. The lounge has a wall to wall glass window which looks
out into the flower garden she saw from the restaurant terrace. She
peers out of this window, taking in the sky with the scudding rain
clouds.

The bedroom is attached to the lounge. It is
very pretty, tasteful, with colors that run the gamut of cherry red
for the wood furnishings and pastels for the sheets. It is a happy
place with happy vibes, and she immediately experiences a cheer she
has not felt for a long time.

She wonders if Jared finds the Northam Suite
to his liking or he will just find a reason to crap. Jared has
changed a lot from the teenager she once knew. Most of her
affection for him still stems from the tides they have been through
together when they were merely two unusual young people against a
world which does not tolerate differences, and not from what he has
become in recent times.

She is tired from the journey, and so she
runs a long bath with bath salts and has a nice soak all by
herself. Then she takes a nap.

When she wakes up, it is six thirty in the
evening.

Her date!

It has been on her dreams when she fell
asleep, and how she has to prepare herself for Lucien Walker. How
should she dress? Her usual style is casual chic – with lots of
short skirts and sleeveless tees. She knows she looks good in this
ensemble because she is always trying to emphasize her long slim
legs. But Lucien Walker is a man of class and taste. His family
owns this hotel, after all, and goodness knows how many other
hotels and properties in this area. She should make an effort to
look just as classy.

The trouble is she hasn’t brought many
clothes with her. Most of her clothes have been left behind in
Tupelo because Jared and she were in such a hurry to leave – with
good reason. What she has is functional. Not meant for a real date
with a handsome, sophisticated multimillionaire.

Oh, the age old bane of a woman!
I have
nothing to wear!

She dumps her entire suitcase on her bed and
peruses each article of clothing with scrunched nose scrutiny.