Love Thy Alpha Book 2
Autore
Rachel Weaver
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In a world where werewolf packs are constantly under threat, Jennessa finds herself torn between her responsibilities as an alpha and her tumultuous relationship with her mate, Clay. As she navigates the aftermath of a brutal attack on her pack, Jennessa must also contend with the arrival of Enzo, a vampire king who claims she is destined to be his queen. With ancient pacts, supernatural battles, and intense emotional conflicts, Jennessa's journey is one of love, loyalty, and survival.
Chapter 1
Book 2: Love Thy Pack
JENNESSA
“Feeling okay, sweetheart?” Clay inquired, his arms encircling my waist, pulling me into the warmth of his chest.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just a bit worn out,” I replied, a yawn punctuating my words. The pack’s cookout had left me drained, but it was a satisfying kind of fatigue, reminiscent of holiday celebrations filled with too much food and drink.
“I’m glad you had a good time,” Clay murmured, his lips brushing against the skin behind my ear. I couldn’t help but smile, relishing the sensation of my mate’s affection. My grin widened as I felt his arousal pressing against my lower back, sending a wave of heat coursing through me.
His low growl vibrated against my neck as he pressed his hips into me, his hardness grinding against my back. The intensity of his desire, amplified through our mate bond, sent a jolt of pleasure straight to my core.
“You smell divine, Jennessa,” he growled, his breath hot against my ear. “I can smell your arousal.” His hand traced a path up my side, finally coming to rest on my breast.
“And I can feel your arousal,” I teased, pressing my backside against him in a suggestive manner.
“I bet…” His hand moved from my breast, sliding down my stomach and beneath the waistband of his boxers that I was wearing. His fingers found their way between my slick folds, causing me to gasp and grind against his hand.
“Just as I thought,” he murmured, his nose tracing the length of my neck, inhaling my scent. “You’re so wet.”
His fingers began to circle my clit, sending waves of pleasure through me. “Oh, yes…”
“You like that, sweetheart?” he asked, his lips trailing kisses along my neck.
“Mm-hmm,” was all I could manage as his fingers quickened their pace. I was already teetering on the edge, our shared emotions pushing me closer.
“And this?” His fingers moved lower, two of them slipping inside me. I gasped as he found my sweet spot, his fingers curling and stroking me from the inside.
“Oh, fuck,” I hissed, my hips bucking against his hand. “Yes, baby. More. Please.”
“More?” His voice was laced with satisfaction. “Tell me what you want, Jennessa.”
“You,” I pleaded, grinding against his hand. “I want you, Clay. All of you. I need you. Please.”
I was begging, but I didn’t care. I was on the brink of climax, but I knew that having him inside me would make it even more intense. There was nothing better than the connection we shared when we became one.
“But I love how my hand feels on your pretty little pussy,” he murmured, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along my neck.
“But you love how my pussy feels around your hard—” I gasped as my orgasm washed over me, my thoughts consumed by the image of Clay inside me.
A long, drawn-out moan escaped my lips as he continued to stroke me, prolonging my climax. It felt like an eternity before I finally came down from the high.
“That’s my girl,” he cooed in my ear.
I sighed, content in his arms. While I preferred having him inside me, any orgasm he gave me was still incredible.
“We’re not done yet,” he said, his arousal pressing against my back once more. I turned to look at him, a knowing smile on my lips.
Now it was his turn, and I loved making him climax as much as I loved climaxing myself. I turned in his arms to face him, pressing my lips to his in a tender kiss.
“Your turn,” I whispered against his lips, a smile playing on my face.
He helped me out of his boxers before I tugged at his waistband. He lifted his hips, allowing me to slide them down his muscular legs.
“What do you want, Clay?” I asked, looking up at him through my lashes. I gave him my most seductive smile as I sat between his legs, his arousal standing tall against his stomach. I could tell by the surge of desire through our bond that my efforts were not in vain.
Clay growled and sat up quickly, his large hands gripping my waist and lifting me as if I weighed nothing.
He positioned me on top of him, my knees on either side of his hips, his arousal nestled between my slick folds.
A wave of desire washed over us as my wetness coated him, his eyes briefly flashing a bright yellow, signaling that his wolf was just as eager.
“Is this what you want?” I asked, grinding against him. Clay hissed, his teeth grinding together as his grip on my waist tightened and his hips thrust up into me. I repeated the motion, again and again.
By now, we were both panting, our breaths ragged as I continued to tease him. The friction against my core had my heart pounding in my chest, the sound echoing in my ears.
“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me,” Clay growled, his teeth gritted. I loved watching him lose control, a sight I rarely got to see outside of the bedroom. He was always so composed, so seeing him unravel was a sight to behold.
His large hands remained on my waist, his dark eyes focused on where our bodies met. His jaw clenched and unclenched, his mouth forming a perfect O.
His muscles flexed under his tanned skin, a sight I could watch for the rest of my life and never tire of.
“Jennessa!” Clay growled, knocking me off balance as he brought his knees up. I quickly caught myself, my arms on either side of his head.
I looked down at him, a questioning look on my face, until I noticed his hand between us. He was positioning himself at my entrance.
“Enough teasing for one night,” he said, guiding me onto him. I groaned as he filled me.
“Ride me, baby,” Clay said, his brown eyes glowing golden, his wolf present and watching. I started off slow, watching as Clay came undone beneath me. He hissed and growled as I moved my hips in circles.
“No, I don’t think I’m done teasing you just yet,” I whispered, smiling down at him as he growled in response.
“If this didn’t feel so good, I’d be pissed right now,” he said, his hands on my hips squeezing me a little harder. He lifted me slightly before thrusting up into me.
“No, Clay,” I protested, even though it felt incredible. I tried to remove his hands from my hips, but he wouldn’t budge.
He thrust up into me again, hitting just the right spot. I gasped. The sensation was incredible, but I was worried. “Your leg, baby,” I managed to say between gasps.
“I’m fine,” he growled, thrusting into me again. “And if you’re so worried about my leg”—he thrust into me again—“then fuck me, baby.”
He released my hips, seating me low on him once more. Without needing to be told a third time, I grabbed the headboard and moved in the way I knew he liked.
It only took a few minutes before we were both moaning, our climaxes hitting us simultaneously. The bond between us amplified the experience, his pleasure fueling my own, making it even more intense.
When we were done, I lay next to him, his arm serving as my pillow as I snuggled into his side, utterly spent and content. I breathed in his scent, allowing it to lull me into a deep, peaceful sleep.
***
The next morning, I woke up alone, which wasn’t unusual. Ever since the attack, especially since Clay got the all-clear from the doctor, he’s been waking up early to go to the Training Hill. Despite Andrew’s death, Clay still feels like we could have done better, both before and during the attack.
I couldn’t blame him. He felt a tremendous responsibility to protect his pack. He was being too hard on himself, in my opinion, but that was part of the burden of being an alpha. When things go wrong, the alpha is the one who has to shoulder the blame.
My morning felt a bit empty without him, but I held onto the hope that things would settle down soon. We’d been caught in a whirlwind of events, and I yearned for the quiet moments we could share.
The pack’s needs had to take precedence, though.
I rolled out of bed and indulged in a long, hot shower. Afterward, I slipped into a pair of glossy jeans, Dr. Martens, and a light olive sweater. The rapid succession of events—my relationship with Clay, the attack—had left me unsure of my role as the new luna, but I was determined to find a way to contribute each day.
Today, Lindsey and I planned to visit some families who had lost loved ones in the attack. My mother had given me a sense of what a luna should do, and I wanted to ensure those grieving knew their alpha and I were there for them.
I descended the stairs to the kitchen, intending to grab a quick bite before heading out. It was only half past nine in the morning, and I felt confident I could accomplish everything I had planned for the day.
A few pack members were already in the kitchen when I arrived. I greeted them with a warm smile, and they seemed genuinely pleased to see me. I made a mental note to organize more pack gatherings, like yesterday’s cookout, to boost morale.
“Hey, are you ready to go? I packed your car already.” Lindsey’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. She looked more like her old self, which was a relief. She had been grappling with guilt and depression after the attack, but Clay and I had reassured her that no one blamed her for what happened.
She was a victim of Andrew’s cruelty, just like the rest of us. If anyone dared to see her otherwise, I’d handle them personally.
Visiting the families affected by the attack was hard on Lindsey. Like Clay, she felt a heavy responsibility to ensure the deceased and their families were treated with the utmost respect. She believed she owed them that much.
I agreed that these families deserved something for their loss, but I didn’t believe Lindsey was the one who owed them. She cared deeply for these families, but I worried she was doing this out of a need for redemption or to prove her worth to the pack. She didn’t need to prove anything to me.
“Yeah, just grabbing something to eat on the way there,” I assured her, offering a nod and a smile.
“Oh good. Will you grab me a parfait out of the fridge?” Her request made my decision easier. Yogurt and granola sounded perfect.
“Coming right up!” I chirped, retrieving two parfaits from the fridge. I grabbed a pair of spoons and headed toward Lindsey by the door. “Now I’m ready.”
“Great, let’s get going,” Lindsey said, leading the way to the foyer.
“We have three families to visit today,” she informed me as we climbed into the charcoal gray SUV Clay had surprised me with a few days ago. I had fallen in love with it instantly, even though I wasn’t sure why I needed such a large vehicle.
“The Krates’, the Millers’, and then the Cashes’. They all live relatively close to one another on the Training Hill side, but we need to do the Cashes’ last so we can meet with Linda’s son after his training.”
Linda’s husband, Michael, had been killed during the attack. He was a respected figure at the Training Hill, serving as the combat trainer for the new warriors. His death had been particularly brutal. Andrew had targeted him, knowing he would be a formidable opponent.
The attack had been witnessed by several people. They said Michael had fought valiantly, even managing to kill two of the wolves, but the attackers were relentless. They had torn him apart, and a group of high-ranking wolves had to retrieve his remains for the funeral.
It was a horrific scene, and we made a point to visit them as often as we could.
Linda’s son was a teenager, around fifteen or sixteen. He spent his days at school and training with Clay. We hadn’t had a chance to meet him yet due to his packed schedule, but Linda had expressed concern about how he was handling his father’s death. We promised to visit him the next time we came by, no matter how long we had to wait.
Both Lindsey and I were worried about him. I knew firsthand what it was like to lose a father, and I feared he would carry that pain with him forever.
I had almost rejected Clay because of my misplaced anger toward his family. What a mistake that would have been! He was my mate, my soulmate.
Lindsey shared my concerns, but she also had her own fears. She was worried he would blame her for her role in the attack, and she feared he was training so hard out of a desire for revenge. It was a futile pursuit, given that Andrew was dead, but grief and anger can cloud a person’s judgment.
“Understood. Just plug in the address to my GPS, and we’ll be out of here,” I told her, starting up the SUV and pulling out of the driveway.
