Page 1 of Cruel Alpha (Nightfire Islands Alphas #1)

The party was a mistake. Who did I think I was, getting all dressed up to go to a celebration for a guy who made my life hell, populated by people who hated me? My dress was too tight, hugging my ample curves in a way that had felt empowering and sexy when I was at home looking in the mirror, but now only made me feel exposed. Everyone was looking at me, and not in a fun way. Probably wondering what the hell I was doing here, which I couldn’t blame them for: I didn’t fit in with this crowd, didn’t fit in with this Pack . They were sleek, muscled, and powerful : everything a wolf was supposed to be and everything I wasn’t. Everything he was.

Caleb Thorne. The man of the hour. The heir to Lapine Pack. My mate. Not that he’d ever admit to that last part, of course. The week after I’d first shifted—sixteen and so excited—he’d bumped me in the hall, skin brushing skin. The first pull of the bond had been even stronger than I’d imagined; everyone talked about how unmistakable it was, that instant desire, that need to come together, to mark each other, to claim your mate, and I’d always thought they must be exaggerating. When it happened, though, my legs almost came out from under me. He’d been no less affected, I could tell, biting down hard on the inside of his mouth as he stopped and stared at me for several long moments. Then he’d turned his back and walked away. For the rest of the day, I’d told myself that he’d only wanted to spare me the humiliation of being taken and claimed in the middle of the school hall, that he would come to me that evening. I held on to that hope as days passed, then weeks, then months, until I was forced to accept that he would never claim me. The future Alpha couldn’t be mated to a chunky half-breed. What would the elders say? What would the other Packs think? The whole island would probably disappear into the sea out of sheer humiliation.

Naturally, I was surprised when he invited me to his Welcome Home party. I had been surprised to see him back on the island at all, busy as I was enjoying the peace and quiet that his absence afforded me. He’d been away for the last year, touring the other islands to “encourage positive relations between the Packs”. The months he’d been gone had been blissful; no one bumped me in the corridor so that I dropped my books; no one hid my clothes after gym so that I was forced to spend the rest of the day in my sweaty, unflattering shorts and a polo shirt; no one took much notice of me at all. Without him to impress, the rest of the school went back to doing what they did best: pretending that I didn’t exist. I liked it that way, so seeing Caleb Thorne leaning casually against a tree in the town square had been like a jump scare in my own personal horror movie.

I had kept my head down, praying that I would go unnoticed. Surely he would be more excited to see his asshole friends again than he was to needle me for the unforgivable crime of being alive. No—because the universe hated me personally. He straightened as I walked past.

“Hey, Alyssa!”

I hadn’t missed the sound of his voice. It was loud and arrogant and laced with authority, and it took every ounce of my willpower not to stop in my tracks. He was just as awful and gorgeous as he’d always been—maybe more so now. He was tanned from being out in the sun, and his previously lean frame had filled out considerably, the muscles of his pecs and his biceps straining against his white cotton t-shirt. He’d probably bought it a size too small just to show off. I kept walking, savoring the little victory of making him stand up straight and follow me. Had he gotten even taller?

He caught up to me within a few strides, visibly annoyed. He couldn’t reach out and grab my arm: it was summer, and, despite my self-consciousness, I was wearing a short-sleeved sundress. We both knew that if he touched my skin, he’d struggle to keep control of himself—until he marked me, the bond would try to pull us together every time his skin touched mine. Caleb Thorne might not think I was good enough for him, but the wolf within him wasn’t nearly so picky.

“Didn’t you hear me?” he asked. We both knew the answer.

“What do you want, Caleb?” I snapped. It was dangerous, talking to the Heir like that, but my self-preservation instinct had gone out of the window with my peace. Caleb didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t care.

“I’m having a party tonight to celebrate being back on Lapine,” he said.

“Good for you.”

“I want you to be there.”

I laughed, short and humorless.

“What, so you can dump a bucket of pig’s blood on me?”

Caleb frowned.

“Like Carrie? ” The answer took me aback; I’d always assumed he had more important things to do than read human books. I’d read Carrie about ten times, partly because it was one of the few books that came to the market from the mainland, but mostly because on my worst days, I envied the kind of power that Carrie had. I may have been half witch—and the Pack pariah as a result—but my magic was weak and untrained. I couldn’t use it to enact revenge on my teenage tormentors, even if I wanted to.

“You read books?” I said, too shocked to say anything else.

“I read books,” he confirmed, as if this was a skill that should make me swoon. “So you’re coming?”

“As if.”

“It’ll be fun,” he insisted. I didn’t know why he was so intent on getting me to go, but whatever his reason, I sure wasn’t going to like it.

“For you, maybe,” I said, pointed and dismissive. I expected him to either back off with a shrug like it had never mattered to him anyway, or to put on his Alpha Heir voice and order me there. He did neither. Instead, his voice got low and earnest.

“No one will mess with you, I promise,” he said, barely above a whisper. I was almost caught off guard—almost.

“Oh, well, if you promise,” I said, my voice heavy with sarcasm. A hand grabbed the loop at the top of my backpack, forcing me to stop.

“What is your problem?” he growled. That was more like the Caleb I knew, but I wasn’t going to let him intimidate me.

“My problem is that you made my life a living hell for three years,” I reminded him, pulling hard on the shoulder straps of my backpack, trying to wrench it free of his grip, “and now you’re expecting me to trust this isn’t just some elaborate plot to humiliate me.”

To my surprise, he let go of my backpack, looking suddenly contrite. At this rate, I was going to get whiplash.

“Yeah,” he said, running a hand through his black hair. “I was kind of a jackass, huh?”

“Yeah,” I agreed, breathless and a little stunned, “you were.”

“Just—just come to the party,” he said. “I want to start over. Start fresh. What do you say?”

He seemed genuine, and because things couldn’t get much weirder, I nodded.

“I guess I could drop by for an hour.”

I had never regretted anything more. The air in the room was thick with musk and the sweet tang of alcohol. A few freshly mated pairs had snuck off into corners and were attached at the mouth, hands wandering—a few unmated pairs, too. No one had spoken to me all evening, which I realized was a blessing as Melanie Simons caught sight of me. In her heels, she was almost a head taller than me, blonde and slim in a golden crop top that showed off her toned belly.

“Wow, I love your dress,” she said, smiling wide and insincere. It was the kind of compliment that sounded sweet but was laced with poison. “It’s, like, so brave of you to wear that style.”

And there it was.

“Thanks,” I said through gritted teeth, wishing that the ground would swallow me up. I wished that I had thought to bring a hoodie or a flannel or something to cover myself with; the heat of the summer night had made me think I wouldn’t need one when I left the house, forgetting that nothing was colder than my classmates’ cruelty. Melanie helped herself to some more punch from the bowl on the table next to me and gave me a cutesy little wave as she went to rejoin her friends.

I should just go. Despite his insistence that I attend, Caleb had ignored me since I’d arrived. It had been stupid of me to think that he might have grown up a little on his year away. I’d spent an hour on my makeup and worn this stupid dress for what? For the hope that a guy who had been nothing but an asshole the entire time I’d known him might finally pull his head out of his ass and realize we were meant to be? Yeah, I was leaving.

I chugged the rest of my punch with a wince and abruptly realized that I needed to pee. It was almost an hour’s walk from Caleb’s fancy house in the center of town to the modest cottage my family occupied on the outskirts, and I wasn’t going to walk it with a full bladder. Putting my empty cup down on the table, I left my sad little spot in search of the bathroom. I had never been in the Thornes’ house before, and the place was huge. Caleb must have invited the entire senior class, as well as everyone who’d graduated alongside him last year, because the ground floor was packed. I was never going to find a bathroom down here, so I made for the stairs.

It took a few tries before I found the right door—why a family of four needed so many bedrooms, I would never know—but eventually, I was able to relieve myself. Taking one last look at my sorry excuse for a party outfit in the mirror above the sink, I reminded myself that all I had to do now was make it through the throng and out the front door.

If only it had been so simple. When I opened the bathroom door, there was Caleb lounging against a wall like he owned the place—which, I suppose, he did.

“I was looking for you,” he said, and I rolled my eyes.

“No, you weren’t. I’ve been here for an hour and you’ve barely looked in my direction. I’m going home.”

“Don’t.” For a second, the arrogant, affected tone of his voice dropped, and he really sounded as though he wanted me to stay. A second later, I thought I must have imagined it, because he smirked as he continued, “I didn’t even get a chance to admire that dress on you.”

“Shut up,” I muttered, even as my cheeks flushed pink. I could take the teasing from everyone but him; he was my mate, the one person who was supposed to love me, or at least desire me, no matter what.

“What? What did I say?” He looked genuinely confused. “You just—you look good.” He looked suddenly lost, like the boy he was, not the man he pretended to be. He looked like a boy giving a compliment to a pretty girl, nervous and a little bashful.

“Oh,” I said, feeling the flush move down to my chest. His eyes followed it. “Thanks.”

“Do you wanna see the photos from my trip?”

The change of subject was sudden, and I should have said no. I should have gone back downstairs and out the door. I didn’t. I didn’t, because I’d dreamed of leaving Lapine since I first understood what an outcast was. I didn’t, because, after a year of distance, I was out of practice resisting the pull between Caleb and me; my wolf might want him, but I sure as shit didn’t, and the feeling was more than mutual.

I nodded, hating the warmth that burst to life in my stomach as he smiled—really smiled, no hint of that practiced smirk—allowing him to lead me down the hallway to his room. Inside, it was not what I had expected; not a dirty shirt or a crusty sock in sight, just clean white walls and a bed made with military precision. There were a few books on a shelf and a desk in the corner, and I wouldn’t have thought anyone really lived here without the single corkboard covered with photographs hanging on the far wall.

Caleb said nothing as I walked up to it, examining each image with a hunger I didn’t even try to hide. Some were landscapes depicting unfamiliar mountains, forests, and beaches. Others were portraits of people at work, doing tasks that no one on Lapine had ever done; mining and farming and smithing, using what their island gave them in the same way that Lapine used our sprawling quarries. The last category of images was more intimate: pictures of Caleb with his arm around other guys his age, guys I didn’t recognize but who must be the heirs of other Packs.

“Who is this?” I asked, pointing to a picture of Caleb arm-wrestling a shifter with deep red hair and a wide smile.

“That’s Leo,” he said with a smile of his own, “he’s already Alpha over at Argent.”

“Wow.” Leo looked so boyish and carefree, but I knew he must be anything but.

“Yeah. Ethan, too.” The second guy he pointed out looked the part, all serious and brooding, even posing for a photograph. Though we’d never met, I recognized him from several visits that the Ferris Alpha had paid to Lapine. As our closest allies, it made sense that Caleb and Ethan would be friends. “He’s kind of like a big brother to me,” Caleb admitted.

Caleb pointed out several other Alpha Heirs, but their names all blurred together as he talked about his time away from Lapine. He seemed free and unguarded for the first time since I’d known him, and it was a good look on him. The bond between us—always present, if not always acknowledged—felt light and warm in a way it never had before. He must have felt it, too, because he turned back to me suddenly.

“It was good to get away from Lapine,” he said. He was looking at me very intently, and I could think of nothing to say except, “I bet.”

“I missed you, though,” he said, and my heart—the traitor—skipped a beat.

“You did not.”

“I did,” he reached out to take my hand, and I gasped at the electricity of his skin on mine. It was such a simple touch, but the thrill of it went all the way through me, the bond demanding more. “Alyssa, I—not seeing you every day was driving me crazy.”

“Who are you, and what have you done with Caleb?” I tried to joke, but my voice came out breathy and too high. He frowned.

“I may not have always acted like it, but I…” His other hand reached forward, coming to land on my hip, and my breath hitched. He had never come this close to me, never touched me unless it was to shove me or trip me or slap my books out of my hands. Now, his thumb was caressing the dip of my waist, and all intelligent thought had left my head.

“You what?” I breathed.

“I’ve always wanted you, Alyssa.”

His gaze flickered down to my lips, and I could feel my heart beating in my throat. He leaned down slowly, giving me time to back away, time to back out, but I didn’t. The first touch of his lips was gentle, but it was the spark that lit an inferno. Within seconds, the kiss had deepened, and he pulled me flush against his body, his hands snaking around to grab at my ass. This was going so fast—too fast—but I couldn’t convince myself to care. After two miserable, lonely years, my mate was finally acknowledging me, kissing me, touching me. No matter how hard I tried, I had never quite been able to convince myself that this—that he— wasn’t what I wanted, and as his calloused hands found the zip on my dress, dragging it down my back, I could hardly believe he was finally mine.