Page 9 of Wild Alpha (Cold-Blooded Alpha #12)

M y nerves are tight as we walk into the Blackshaws’ farmhouse kitchen from the back of its wraparound porch.

A large man with dark blond hair is crouching in the kitchen, holding a squirming little girl in a yellow dress with light blonde hair in pigtails, a button nose, and fat cheeks.

“ Why , Angel?” He growls. “Why must you keep trying to stick your fingers in outlets?”

Terror freezes me on the spot.

I’ve never met Dayne Blackshaw before, but alpha ferocity bleeds from his pores. This is the cold-blooded alpha. A man with a reputation so fierce, I did everything possible to keep my distance from him.

The girl pokes his bearded chin. “Go bye-bye, Daddy!”

He releases a tired sigh and looks up to the sky as if for divine intervention. “Why must she drive me this crazy but be so adorable?”

A woman laughingly calls out, “Punishment, Dayne. You must suffer for all your crimes against me.”

“I wasn’t that bad,” Dayne mutters. He kisses the girl on the forehead and sets her on her feet, saying slowly, “No more poking things that will kill you.”

Is he talking about himself or the outlet?

Giggling, the little girl toddles off.

Two seconds later, a guy calls out from the next room, “Dayne, you need to get her a leash or something. She has absolutely no self-preservation instincts.”

Dayne stands, raising his voice to tell the guy in the next room, “Watch her, Dean. I have a feeling I’m going to be awhile.”

Then, he directs all his attention toward me. My wolf is silent, caught between fight-or-flight instincts. I feel the same way.

It’s him.

The cold-blooded alpha.

The man I lived in fear of, feet from his property, terrified he’d rip my throat out for daring to venture so close to his territory.

I hadn’t expected to find him holding a little girl who must be his daughter, dressed in blue jeans, a white T-shirt, and barefoot, but his eyes, a wolf-like ice-blue, reveal everything I need to know.

This man is a killer.

I mean, I am too, but I would never tear into my pack—my family —the way he did.

He points to the dining table. “Sit,” he orders me, scratching his bearded jaw as he wanders over to the refrigerator. “I was wondering when you’d show your face.”

I glance at Nathan and Clara, who followed me in and have been a silent presence behind me. Likely to stop me from running.

“Told you he knew you were there,” Nathan confirms, reading my mind.

Dayne pulls a bottle of water from the refrigerator and closes the door. “We’ve had altogether too many crises from not watching our borders as much as we should. Jeremy caught your scent a couple of days ago.”

I ponder what fool would venture anywhere near their borders, then I realize, me . I’m the fool.

Again, he points at the dining table. “ Sit .”

The growl in his voice pushes me toward the long wooden table as a beautiful, petite woman with long dark hair walks in.

She looks a little younger than Dayne, mid-twenties to his late twenties or early thirties, holding a little boy who stares at me with his thumb in his mouth. The boy’s age and resemblance to the girl from before tell me I’m looking at a twin.

She freezes just inside the kitchen and glares at Dayne. “You could have mentioned she needed clothes.”

“I don’t notice those things,” he grumbles. “Except for you. When you’re naked, then I notice.” He walks over to the table, thumps the bottle of water in front of a seat he pulls out, and looks at me. “I won’t tell you again.”

I sit where he told me to sit, and he nods once, pushes the water closer toward me, and wanders over to the woman, taking the little boy from her and kissing the top of his head. “Come on, Patrick. Mom’s angry. You’ll be safer with me.”

She rolls her eyes and backs out of the room, shouting, “ Savannah ? Can you throw down some clothes? We have a guest.”

A guest?

“What kind?” A woman calls back.

“I don’t know. Just whatever.”

“What size?”

“Jesus, this isn’t a catwalk,” Dayne shouts. “You’re not a model anymore. Just pick whatever and throw it down the stairs. I don’t care if it matches.”

I’m too confused about what’s happening to drink any of the water Dayne gave me. I’d expected Nathan and Clara to tell Dayne that I had shifted in front of a human, thereby revealing a secret with a killing offense, and for Dayne to shift and tear my throat out.

“I need a size ,” Savannah calls back, annoyed. “Maybe it doesn’t matter to you because you’re a guy, but girls come in different shapes and sizes.”

“I’ll go grab them,” Clara says.

Nathan circles her wrist and tugs her back a step, kissing her. “Grab a pair of sweats for me.”

She melts. “I’ll be back.”

She leaves the kitchen, and Nathan takes a seat at the dining table.

I turn to find Dayne watching me. He’s still holding the little boy, but just because he’s holding a kid does not make me feel any more certain that I will live through the next five minutes.

Especially when Nathan tells him what I did, and especially when I remember his reputation involved him killing children.

“You eaten?” he demands.

I fumble the water bottle, and it flies out of my grasp. Nathan catches it, smiling at me before handing it back to my nervous hands.

“Uh, no,” I tell Dayne, putting the water bottle down before I clock someone in the face with it next time. Knowing my luck lately, it’ll be the cute kid watching me intently with his thumb in his mouth.

“You’re making her nervous,” the brunette says, taking a seat at the table and holding out her hands for the little boy. “I’m Talis,” she introduces herself.

I hadn’t known that Dayne had a mate, but Talis must be his, given that they appear to be the parents of these cute twins, and he hasn’t ripped out her throat for arguing with him.

Dayne glares at her, but he’s gentle when he kisses the boy on the head and hands him back to her. “I’m not doing anything. I just asked if she was hungry.”

“You growled it. There is no reason to growl at her.”

Nathan chuckles, drawing my gaze. “Like two cats in a bag the way those two argue. You’d have thought being parents would have mellowed them out at least a little.”

“ Shut it, Nate ,” Dayne and Talis snap at him.

Nathan’s grin is unrepentant. “See?”

A beautiful blonde woman, with Clara close behind, enters the kitchen before I have a chance to respond.

Clara, wearing black sweatpants and a T-shirt, hands a blue pair to Nathan, while the blonde woman offers me gray sweatpants and a T-shirt.

“Hey, I’m Savannah. Hopefully, these will fit.

Clara was a lot more helpful with sizing than Talis or Dayne. ”

Dayne rolls his eyes at her pointed criticism. Talis sighs and hugs her son.

Savannah’s bone structure is unreal; her blonde hair is stunning, even though it looks barely brushed, and her smile is warm and friendly.

Even if Dayne hadn’t mentioned she was a model, I’d have known it the second I saw her. Sometimes, you can look at a person and know they belong on a catwalk, on the front cover of a magazine, or on a Hollywood actor’s arm at a movie premiere.

“These look great, thanks.” I take the sweats Savannah offers me and quickly put them on.

There’s no point in leaving the room to do it. They’ve all seen me naked, and, like most shifters, nudity doesn’t bother me. Growing up in a pack in rural Oklahoma meant there was rarely a day that I didn’t have someone walk past me buck naked.

Once I’ve stuffed myself into the sweats, I return to my seat.

Talis smiles at me and lifts her son a little higher in her arms. “This is Patrick. The girl who is so fearless that not even electricity scares her off is Angel, my daughter. I’m Luna here, in case you wondered.

All our introductions will have to come in pieces.

Some of the pack are out running, others are in town, and some are napping.

Getting everyone together seems to only happen at mealtimes or pack meetings. "

My heart tightens in response. It was the same with my pack, and there hasn’t been a single day in the last three years that I haven’t desperately missed them.

“Averie,” I say, “and you didn’t have to bring me clothes or anything.”

Given that Dayne will promptly kill me the second he discovers I exposed the existence of shifters to a local.

Talis dismisses my comment with a wave of her hand, and Savannah walks out with another friendly smile. “Of course we did. Do you have somewhere to stay?”

I open my mouth to tell her that I won’t be living long enough to take advantage of her hospitality.

Talis continues, “Nathan and Clara were staying in Savannah’s old cabin. It’s a great spot if you need some downtime. We’ll need to stock up the refrigerator and check the generator.” She turns to Dayne. “Is the generator working, baby?”

He shrugs. “Should be.”

“I can check it out with Clara,” Nathan suggests, glancing at Clara.

Clara takes his hand, adding, “We can give it a quick clean as well and pick up the last bits we left behind. We’re moving into Nathan’s room. The cabin is nice, but it’s quiet.”

“Everyone always moves into the house before too long,” Talis explains.

I understand why. Shifters tend to live together in large houses with plenty of space for meeting, gathering, and hanging out. Wolves are pack animals, and we are part-wolves.

Dayne shakes his head. “Not yet. I take it you found Fisher?”

Nathan makes a face. “It’s a long story.”

Dayne sighs, his chair creaking as he leans back. “Thought so. Tell me everything. From the top.”

Tense, I barely breathe, waiting for the axe to fall, or in my case, for him to lunge across the dining table and tear my throat out.

Nathan gives Dayne a very thorough blow-by-blow of everything that happened, from him going to look for Fisher after his dad said he hadn’t come home, to finding me, and me shifting to a wolf right in front of Fisher.

Everything .

He leaves nothing out.

Dayne fixes ice-blue eyes on me and crosses his arms.