An Alpha's Vixen

SLOAN

The past four days had been a living nightmare, as well as a complete shit show from hell.

By the time they’d gotten Myra to the clinic, she’d crashed from the massive loss of blood. The doctors had their hands full trying to keep her alive.

Aside from the bite marks, slashes from claws, bruises, and broken bones, there was a poison in her system that needed to be flushed out.

It was the first new lead that they’d had in a while in their search for the rogues.

Unfortunately, the rogues who’d attacked his angel had escaped and gone on to kill three humans in different areas of Seattle that night.

The shock of almost losing her twin sister had sent Myrielle into early labor. And Megan was nearly hysterical by the time she got to the clinic.

She was plagued with guilt and shame for a situation that was completely out of her control. The doctor had considered sedating her, but Declan helped calm her down.

On top of everything, Sloan had realized that his dancing angel was his omega. Not the best way to meet your mate and in-laws.

“Son?” his father called out as Sloan exited her room.

He crossed the hallway to the visitors’ lounge and found his parents sitting with Mr. Gallagher. His mother stood up and engulfed him in a tight hug.

“My poor baby boy,” Sian, his mother, cooed.

“She’s alive, and I’m eternally grateful. Just giving her some time with the newest addition to your family.”

Mr. Gallagher joined them and shook Sloan’s hand. “You mean our family. I can’t thank you enough for saving my little girl.”

Sloan turned his attention to his father and questioned him. “Was this what you meant by ‘it’s beginning’?”

“Not the most ideal circumstances, but yes.” Theo nodded.

“Um…well, now that I know she’s more than protected and surrounded by family, I’ll go and check on Tristan. I’m sure there are several pack duties that need my attention.”

Theo quickly commented, “Your brother has everything under control, and anything serious, I took care of it for you.”

“But Dad—”

Theo cut him off. “Sloan, you can’t afford to avoid this conversation.”

“As a wolf, son, your courtship with your mate is brief. You need to claim her by the next full moon, or else another female can challenge her for the position as your omega,” Sian explained.

Sloan dragged his hand over his face. “Are you fucking kidding me? Ow!” he cried out as Sian slapped him across his head.

“Language, boy. And no, I’m not kidding you,” she barked at him, making him feel like a young pup and not the twenty-nine-year-old alpha that he was.

“Mom, the next full moon is in five days. And just for clarification, challenge how?”

“One-on-one combat,” Theo answered simply.

“She hasn’t even healed properly from this attack. Engaging in a one-on-one fight with another shifter will certainly kill her.”

“That’s why you have to court and claim her. Quickly.”

“Dad, even if I were to court her, her body is still weak, and she’s tiny. Claiming her will take a lot out of her.”

Mr. Gallagher cleared his throat, reminding the three of his presence.

“As painful as this conversation is for a father to take part in, don’t let the tiny exterior fool you.

“It was unfortunate she was outnumbered and intoxicated when she was attacked, but Myra’s no weakling. Neither of my girls is.”

“Mr. Gallagher, I wasn’t implying—”

“Since we’re family now, it’s Laurence. Always remember the phrase ‘as cunning as a fox.’ It applies to the females of our species too.”

MYRA

Myra emerged from a dark, dreamless void. She was confused by the lack of…anything.

Her senses began to awaken, and she took stock of her surroundings before attempting to open her glued-shut eyes.

The first thing she noticed was a persistent dull ache radiating throughout her body.

The second thing she noticed was the rhythmic sound of something beeping.

The third thing she noticed was the smell of sea salt, fresh linens, and…baby powder?

She struggled to open her eyes, but the harsh sunlight forced her to close them again.

Her pained moans must have caught someone’s attention, because she felt the gentle brush of a fingertip against her cheek.

“Hey, fluffy butt,” Megan said, but it didn’t have the usual teasing undertones.

“I’m never drinking with you again,” Myra mumbled. What the hell had happened to her voice? Why was talking so hard?

She heard a sniffle, followed by the crushing weight of someone lying on her. “Jesus! Bitch, did you gain weight overnight?”

“You scared us, dummy,” Megan murmured into Myra’s boobs.

“What the hell?” Myra exclaimed as her brain finally registered that she was lying in a hospital bed. “What happened to me? Why am I in the hospital?”

In her panic, she saw her hand in a cast. “What happened to my hand?”

“Why am I in the hospital?” she asked again.

“Technically, it’s not a hospital, but a clinic fully operated by shifters. Our natural ability to heal quickly is difficult to explain to ordinary human physicians.

“But to your question, you’re the sole survivor of a rogue attack.”

Rogue attack? Her mind briefly snapped back to the alleyway, causing the beeping sound beside her to accelerate.

“Shit!” she exclaimed. “My job! I can’t go to work on Monday looking like this.”

“It’s okay. We—or should I say, your father—called in for you. He said that you were in a minor accident and needed a couple of weeks off to recover,” Megan explained.

She then nodded to a large flower arrangement sitting near the window. There were pink roses and orange and white lilies, as well as some still-green buds, all placed in a clear vase.

“Those flowers are from the staff at your school.” She handed Myra a card. “And this is from your class.”

Myra opened up the card and smiled brightly at its contents. There were two Band-Aids with googly eyes and hand-drawn stick arms and feet.

Both Band-Aid people were holding balloons of different colors, made of her students’ fingerprints. It read, Get well soon! Room 7 friends.

She handed the card back to Megan just as the door opened, revealing her twin sister in a wheelchair.

“MYRIELLE, WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“Hey, language, Auntie Myra.” Myrielle smiled, glancing down.

Myra’s eyes shifted to the pink-swaddled bundle in her sister’s arms.

“How long have I been here?”

“Four days,” Megan answered.

“Meet your niece, Brielle Maura Baxter.”

“You named her after Mom? I love it. I love her already. Can I?” Myra asked. Megan adjusted the bed so that Myra could sit up.

Benji came into the room and gently took the baby from his wife and walked over to Myra to place the tiny bundle in her arms.

“Hi, baby.” Myra smiled at the infant, who wiggled a bit in Myra’s arms before settling and falling back to sleep.

***

For the first time since waking up in the clinic a couple of hours ago, Myra finally had a moment to herself.

She lay back in her bed, sighing heavily, with a ridiculous smile spread across her face. This was partially because she still had the new baby smell on her.

Myrielle had needed to return to her room, since she was about to be discharged. She promised to visit again once they had settled all the necessary paperwork and gotten the baby into a comfortable routine.

Megan alleged that she felt gross and smelled like a horse’s ass and was in dire need of a soak in her tub for three days straight.

It felt good to joke with her once again, but Myra knew all of Megan’s smiles were fake. She was hurting emotionally, as much as Myra felt hurt physically. She was only putting on a brave face for others to see.

I can’t believe that four days ago I was carefree, dancing with Megan in Ivy, only to have my world turn upside down. Who the hell would want to attack me? Myra thought.

She threw the covers off her body and took stock of her fading injuries. Her right hand was still in a brace. The broken bone was still healing.

Broken bones tend to take the longest to heal. But it should be okay by now, Myra thought, wiggling her fingers gently and feeling a slight twinge of pain.

Some residual pain, but not that bad.

She rolled up her hospital gown with her left hand and gazed at the scar on her right side. Dr. Jade had recently removed the bandage from it.

At first, the wound appeared to be a violent shade of red, but now the scar was a healthy shade of pink.

She lifted her partially healed right leg. Depending on the lighting or how she turned it, she could still see faint teeth marks on it.

What the hell? It’s like they were trying to chew through my leg, she thought as she placed her leg back down on the bed.

A nurse would be coming by soon to remove her catheter and help her take a shower.

How humiliating, she thought, trying to ignore the tube leading to the bag hanging on the side of the bed. She groaned in frustration as she pushed her gown back down and stared up at the popcorn ceiling.

Her eyes eventually drifted closed, and she listened to her surroundings. She heard doctors and nurses go about their daily tasks and individuals coming and going in the clinic.

However, she unconsciously focused on one particular heartbeat, as it seemed to match her own. Her eyes sprang open as she felt the warm sensation of a hot flash creeping up her body.

But this time, it was different. It felt like she was being sensually caressed by someone during a steamy make-out session. The feeling caused her to squirm and squeeze her legs tightly.

Son of a bitch! Not now.

She bit her lip to smother her moans when she caught wind of Sloan’s signature scent. Unfortunately, this only heightened her sexual desires.

Her left hand had started creeping down her body when Sloan’s voice pierced the air.

“Glad to know it’s not only me.”