Page 3 of Alpha's Rejected Warrior
I step fully into view, and the man’s struggle against Branson’s grip suddenly halts. His jade-green eyes lock with mine, widening with surprise rather than fear.
My wolf goes still. So do I.
He’s taller than average — shorter than Branson, of course, but certainly taller than me or Akila — dressed in simple jeans and a fitted t-shirt that reveals an athletic build. He’s not Lycan muscular, but toned in a way that shows he takes care of himself.
Tousled chestnut hair falls across his forehead, framing a face that’s annoyingly striking. Nothing like the rough, rugged faces prized back in Kortan, yet compelling in a way I can’t dismiss, with defined cheekbones and a strong jawline.
Staring at him is too easy. Heat crawls across my skin, prickling at the back of my neck and the tips of my fingers. My wolf is practically whining, straining toward him with an alarming intensity.What the hell is happening?A pull toward ahumanstranger. That alone should terrify me. It does.
Get it together, Rhiannon. He’s a threat to your mission.
After an eternity locked in that unsettling eye contact, the human blinks, remembering his situation. His muscles tense as he renews his useless struggle against Branson’s iron grip.
“Let me go, you oversized—” he grunts, twisting against Branson’s grip. “Who the hell are you people? What are you doing here?”
He starts kicking as Branson lifts him off the ground. One of his heels connects with Branson’s shin, causing him to flinch and loosen his grip, giving the man an opportunity to bite into Branson’s forearm.
Branson grunts in pain and tosses the man into the living room like a rag doll. I duck as his body flies over me, crashing into the wooden coffee table and smashing it to bits.
The man moans in pain and curse words float up as he writhes in the middle of the broken table.
“You okay?” I ask Branson, eyeing the trickle of blood running down his forearm where the human’s teeth broke the skin.
Branson grunts, inspecting the wound with mild annoyance.
“What’s going on?” Akila bursts into the living room, a box clutched under her left arm and her sword drawn in her right hand. Her eyes dart between us, taking in the broken furniture and the human sprawled on the floor.
She sheathes her sword upon seeing that the situation is under control. “Shit! Is that a human?”
Before I answer, a groan from the wreckage of the coffee table draws my attention back to our uninvited guest. Despite the fall that would have kept most humans down, he staggers to his feet, wincing as he clutches his side. His green eyes dart between us before locking onto the front door.
My wolf surges forward before I can think, predator instincts taking over as he makes his desperate dash for freedom. I’macross the room before my thoughts can fully form, my hand shooting out to snatch him by the throat. His skin is hot beneath my fingers. The beat of his heart slams against my palm.
I push him against the wall hard enough to rattle the cheap artwork hanging nearby. His feet dangle inches above the floor as I hold him there, my claws extending just enough to prick the skin of his neck in warning.
My lips pull back. “Going somewhere?” My fangs unsheathe instinctively.
The man gasps. “What are you?”
With my face now just a breath away from his, the spicy, cinnamon-musk scent of him floods my senses again, making my wolf purr, and I suddenly have an urge to lick him that I find deeply disturbing.
The man’s fingers tug at my wrist, straining to break my grip. His eyes flash with defiance despite his obvious disadvantage. Any other human in this position would have gone limp by now. Yet this one keeps pulling at my wrist. Stupid, but oddly... appealing. He glances at the box that Akila is holding.
“Do you want money?” he croaks through his stifled vocal cords as a thread of blood cuts down his forehead into his chestnut hair. “My wallet. . .It’s in my left pocket. You can have it. Take the TV, too. Whatever you want.”
I tilt my head at him.Stupid human.As if mere theft is what he should be worried about right now. The momentary thrill of the catch surges inside me. He’s seen us. I get to kill my first human.Perhaps this childish errand won’t be so bad after all.
“Commander, what should we do with him?” Akila asks.
“Commander?” the human repeats.
The easy assumption he made about our motives for being here drains from his mind as the color drains from his face. A sharper look comes into his eyes — a raw alertness — as he changes his whole calculation of his fate. Beneath my fingers, hisblood pumps harder.He’s smart enough to figure that out, at least.
I meet his gaze, noting the fear that now mingles with defiance in those green depths.
“He’s seen my claws and fangs.” I tighten my grip slightly. “We can’t risk exposure. He has to die.”
Chapter 2 — Rhiannon
