An Alpha's Vixen
Автор
Ns. Nauti
Прочтений
🔥10,6M
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Her: a vixen shifter teaching at a human school. She’s perfectly happy with her normal, boring life until she experiences her first heat. Suddenly desperate for a dominant alpha male she’s only met in her dreams, she goes out for a night of clubbing to let off some steam. Little does she know what she’ll find there.
Him: the playboy alpha of the largest multi-species pack in North America. But recently, his lust for meaningless sex has given way to a yearning for something deeper, a mate he never knew he wanted. In a desperate attempt to get this mysterious girl from his mind, he decides to relax with a simple night out. But when he spots the sexy vixen dancing at the club, his evening turns out to be anything but simple…
Age Rating: 18+
1: Chapter 1
MYRA
Her heart was racing. She could feel his breath against her neck. He bit her earlobe, gently tugging at it. His fingers were running up and down her spine.
She tried to pull away from him, to see his face, but then…
Myra woke up with a start. Her alarm should have gone off an hour ago, and now she was going to be late for work.
She jumped out of bed and rushed to the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and roughly pulled her unruly curls into a messy bun. That would have to do for today.
“Daddy,” Myra called out as she ran down from her bedroom, shrugging on a brown cardigan over her white tee.
At the front door, she struggled to put on her boots as she called out again, “Daddy, I’m so late.”
She applied some lip gloss to her lips in the entryway mirror and vainly sent a kiss to her reflection.
“Hey, Dad, can you—?” She stopped when she realized she was talking to an empty kitchen.
There was an eerie silence in the house, so she switched to her heightened sense of hearing, one of the many perks of living with her vixen side.
Even so, all she could hear was the gentle hum of the refrigerator and the slight drip of water from the kitchen faucet.
“Crap!”
She pulled out her cell phone and dialed her father’s number while attempting to toast two slices of bread.
He answered after the second ring. “Gallagher’s Carpentry.”
“Dad, why didn’t you wake me?” She touched the coffee pot to judge how warm the coffee still was.
“You’re still home?” he gasped. “Sorry, sweetheart. We had a delivery first thing this morning, and I needed to pick up Benji to help.” Loud background noises muffled the line. “Hold on.”
“Dad… Argh!!”
She pulled down her favorite coffee mug and poured fresh coffee into it.
“Darling, I’m sorry I didn’t wake you, but we’re busy at the moment. Chat later, okay?”
CLICK
“Dammit, Dad!” she cursed as she stared down at the disconnected call. “Twenty-one, careless, and hopeless. That’s what I am.”
While trying to calm her racing, frantic thoughts, she smelled burning toast. She quickly took it out and sighed heavily as she spread some butter onto it.
I have twenty minutes before classes start. I can shift and run, but I’ll be sweaty and hot all morning. Maybe I can call in for a morning substitute and have a lazy start. Or I can simply call in sick.
Her phone vibrated, and Megan’s name flashed across the screen.
“Hey, bitch.”
“Hi, ho. In need of a ride?” Megan laughed.
“I don’t know how you do that, but I love you so much right now. How soon can you—?” Before she could finish her question, a car horn echoed from outside. “Coming,” she said.
“Don’t you need a man or a toy to do that?” Megan smart-mouthed, then hung up.
Myra shook her head as she darted out of the house.
“You’re a lifesaver,” Myra said in relief as she climbed into Megan’s Range Rover. She leaned over the center console and kissed Megan on the cheek.
Megan smiled and sped out of the driveway. “You can repay me by coming to the club tonight,” she said.
Myra attempted to dodge the request by changing the subject. “If you’re working tonight, how come you’re awake at this ungodly hour?”
She noticed Megan wasn’t wearing any makeup this morning, and her natural, pale olive skin glowed in the morning sun.
She had her jet-black hair pulled into a high ponytail, and her sunglasses were pushing her bangs away from her face.
“I thought, ‘Let me play good Samaritan, and maybe I can pressure her to come out tonight.’” Megan smirked, catching on to Myra’s attempts at avoiding the topic.
“Pressure is right.”
“My dad told me they’re delivering to the Jamison household this morning. Those wolves can snack on me any day.” Megan sighed dreamily.
Myra smiled wickedly at Megan. “I thought Baron Anderson was snacking on you these days? Isn’t that why he can’t seem to get my Jeep fixed?”
“Hey, a girl needs variety. And it’s not my fault he can’t multitask.”
“A girl needs a chastity belt,” Myra muttered under her breath.
“But I have you.”
Myra faked surprise. “Bitch.”
Megan had been her best friend since they were ten years old, when her father first started working at Myra’s father’s shop. Both of Megan’s parents were oxen shifters, but Megan was adopted—and human.
Together with Myrielle, Myra’s sister, they were the three musketeers, always getting into trouble, both in and out of school.
After high school, Megan and Myra had both decided to study education.
Myra had completed her training and was now a second-grade teacher, but Megan had dropped out at the end of their second year when she’d discovered that dancing paid more money and the night hours freed up her days.
“How’s Myrielle?” Megan asked.
“Still pregnant and looking more like a beached whale these days. After school, I’m going to drop off some groceries at her place.”
“Married and pregnant. That’s terrifying. But she got herself a hunky guy, so who could blame her.”
“Forget the Jamison wolves snacking on you. Myrielle will eat you first if she hears you talking about Benji like that.”
Megan dismissed this. “Yeah, yeah, mates can be obsessive and protective. I may be human, but Mom and Dad taught me how to behave around mated pairs.”
She turned onto the street Myra’s school was on. “Here we are, with three minutes to spare.”
“Thanks, doll. You’re my hero.”
“No problem. You know, in the spirit of being a good Samaritan, I think I’m going to swing by Frankie’s Garage after I drop off Dad’s lunch.
“You know, get them to hurry up with that Jeep of yours so I can stop being your chauffeur.”
“Just say you have an itch that you want Baron to scratch.” Myra sighed. At least one of us would be getting serviced, she thought.
“With all those euphemisms, how can you expect me to get my mind off it?”
“Go scratch that itch, babe.”
Megan saluted. “Oh, I will. Do have a great day, Miss Myra.” She sped away, just a little too fast for a school zone.
As Myra walked up the front steps, she thought of the man she’d been dreaming about. Who was he? It hadn’t been like any other dream. It had felt real, both emotionally and physically.
Myra was about to open the front door when she sensed a presence lurking behind her. She paused, but just before she turned, the first bell rang, making her jump and forget about the odd feeling.
It was probably nothing anyway.
