An Alpha's Vixen: The Finale

“Sloan!” Myra hissed between pants, hips moving restlessly against the ground as her mate’s hot breath fanned over her neck and shoulders.

“Don’t tease!” She was panting, eager for him to be inside of her. Sloan chuckled low, his left hand gripping her right hip and pulling her back hard enough to make her gasp before his cock pressed against her entrance.

“Claiming my angel like this?” He groaned and pushed forward, filling her in one deep stroke. “I could do it every day.”

Myra cried out at the fullness, her fingernails digging into the damp earth as she arched her back, giving him more room to thrust.

“Yes!” she moaned, voice breaking. Sloan’s hand found her clit, rubbing circles around it through her panties. Her hips shook, unable to keep still as he began to move in and out of her.

She could feel every inch of him inside her, his strong thighs bracketing her own, the rough fabric of his pants rubbing against her sensitive skin.

Every thrust made her gasp, moan, and yell his name. They moved in tandem, their bodies glistening with sweat under the light of the full moon as they fucked under the stars.

Myra’s breath caught in her throat when he bit her neck gently, sucking on the mark he’d left there earlier.

He growled against her skin, “Mine.” His hips picked up the pace, slamming into her with a roughness that made her toes curl.

She couldn’t help but scream his name over and over, lost in the feeling of him inside her, of him claiming her like this.

She ground back against him, meeting his thrusts with her own fervor, their bodies slapping together in a rhythm only they knew.

As their pace picked up, Myra’s back hit the rough bark of a tree, offering support while still leaving her exposed and vulnerable.

She pushed back onto him, desperate for more, needing him to take her. Her walls clenched around him, milking his cock, and he let out a primal growl, “Fuck!”

Her breasts swayed with each thrust, her nipples hard under her thin shirt.

He leaned in again, lapping at one as he continued to fuck her. Her eyes rolled back in her head, pleasure coursing through her body as she felt him filling her up.

Her nails raked down his back, leaving red lines behind. “I’m yours, Sloan,” she breathed out.

They moved faster, harder, grunting with pleasure, the sounds of their bodies meeting echoing in the still night air. The smell of wet earth, lingering and musty, mixed with their heavy breaths and sweat.

Myra felt herself getting closer and closer, her orgasm building with every movement. She cried out his name again when she felt him pulsing inside her, filling her with his seed.

Sloan dropped onto her, heavy and warm. His chest rose and fell in time with hers as their bodies pressed together. She clasped her legs around his waist, not wanting the moment to end, and allowed herself to drift away in a sea of contentment.

“I love you,” she whispered against his neck, tasting the salty sweat on his skin. “Always have, always will.”

He breathed in her scent, content for now. The chill night air was no bother, for their bodies were slick and hot in the aftermath of what they’d just done.

Myra cuddled close to Sloan, her eyelids growing heavy. The air stilled.

All of a sudden, there was the sound of a woman screaming. It carried through to where they lay, bodies wrapped against each other inside a toasty blanket.

Myra’s eyes shot open. “What was that?” she asked Sloan.

Sloan’s face had grown careful. “Domestic issue? But we should go home, angel.”

Myra inhaled the familiar scent of musk and smiled contentedly. “We should.”

It took the two of them an hour to return home. Night hung low by the time they got in their bed.

Another hot and heavy round of sex later, Myra curled up against Sloan, her pregnant belly glowing under the pale moonlight filtering through the room.

“Tell me a bedtime story.”

Sloan smiled into her hair. “Once upon a time…”

Myra sighed sleepily.

“I love our love,” she murmured, falling asleep before Sloan could go into the story.

A few minutes later, Sloan began dozing off too.

Soon, he was dreaming, suspended in the heady balance in between a stage of light sleep and wakefulness. In his dream, he walked through a dense forest. Myra was beside him.

“You’re here,” he told her.

“I am,” she observed.

The moon was low and blood-red. Sloan prowled the musty earth restlessly, searching for something, someone. He just couldn’t remember who or why. All he felt was an urgent need.

“We should go home,” Myra commented softly.

“Where is home?” Sloan asked, confused.

Suddenly, the two of them stumbled upon a grave, freshly dug and unmarked. The chill running down his spine drove him immobile.

Sloan complied, and Alpha emerged.

At the same time, Skye materialized, taking over Myra.

Someone was already waiting for them.

“Alpha, my love.” The whisper was faint but loaded with quiet rage.

Rooted as he was to the spot, his eyes widened when she came before him.

Isadora. All skin and bones, her hair lanky, her eyes hollow. But Alpha would never forget that face, especially when his father forced her to reveal herself. She had caused him to betray Skye.

Bile rose to his throat, sour and hot.

“I will have you,” Isadora said. “Even if it is in death. I will not let a single one of you live, Alpha.”

“Please,” Alpha rumbled. “After what you did? I never loved you. Your kind and ours were never meant to be friends.

“You tried to poison my mate just because you were blinded by your obsession,” he continued, his eyes burning with anger at the memory of what Isadora had done. “You tricked and seduced me by assuming her form.”

Isadora licked her lips. “I almost had you. You would have been mine if your father’s commander didn’t find us fucking like rabbits in your house, Alpha. Tell me…tell me you didn’t like it.”

Alpha balled his fists, willing himself to not charge at her. “The only reason that happened was because you took Skye’s form, Isadora. You deserved death for what you did.”

All this while, Skye stood beside Alpha, saying nothing. Her eyes were misty.

“And,” Isadora murmured. “Does death equal being buried alive?”

“Isadora,” Skye finally whispered. “They did you wrong by burying you alive. But you made mistakes too. You poisoned me. You tried to take my mate.”

“Your mate was mine first, you stupid female!” Isadora snapped angrily.

“Spoken like a completely delusional woman,” Alpha remarked.

“Remember when we were children, Alpha,” Isadora murmured, raising wisp-like fingers at him. A ball of black, stormy light began forming at the tips. “How you told me you wanted to marry me?”

“What nonsense, Isadora?” Alpha scoffed. “You seriously took the words of a five-year-old to heart?”

“Those words will be your undoing, as will what your father did to me, you bastard.”

“You cannot hurt me.”

“But I can hurt her,” Isadora smiled with glee. “As I did before. And again and again, in each lifetime. I will take her. I will take your pups. I will destroy you in each life, Alpha.”

He woke with a start, his heart pounding.

Myra woke up beside him. She was sweating heavily.

“Did you?”

“Yes,” she breathed slowly. “I had the same dream.”