All Chapters of ALPHA MARCUS'S SLAVE: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Vanessa Explain yourself!” Alpha Bryson shouts.I shiver, my focus instantly going to the male I’ve revered all my life. But he’s not looking at me. He’s looking at my father.And my father… is glowering at my cowering mother.“I… I…” she stutters, her skin as pale as my fur. “I didn’t know… I…”“You didn’t know?” my father repeats, his tone holding an edge of fury that I’ve never heard from him before. “How could you not fucking know?”He points in my direction. “She’s a goddamn mutt!”“I thought she was yours,” my mother whispers. “I… You have to believe me. It… He found me… I tried to fight… But I…”Her statements are all garbled. Maybe because I can’t hear beyond the pounding in my ears. Maybe because she can’t seem to explain herself.“I swear, I had no idea,” my father says, his words for Alpha Bryson.“I’ll take whatever punishment you require. This is not a reflection on our pack, it’s a reflection on me and my whore of a wife.”“He raped me!” my mother shouts. “I tried to fi

Vanessa I can’t shift.I’ve tried for four days and my wolf won’t allow me to return to human form.The guards think I’m being defiant. The intake judge called me feral.And the social worker in charge of my case stated she couldn’t help me because I didn’t want to be helped.If only that were true.My wolf refuses to let me defend myself in human form. Everyone thinks I killed my mother because Alpha Bryson told them I did.He claimed I turned feral when I found out my true lineage. He acted like he felt bad for me.He called it a “sad, helpless case.” And then went into a speech about how he couldn’t put me down, that it wasn’t my fault for being born thisway.Yet he didn’t have a single problem with Alpha Crane’s wolves killing my mom.And he didn’t care at all about laying the blame for her murder at my feet.My wolf is furious. I am furious.But I’m also terrified.They’re taking me to Carnage Island, home of the cruelest wolves in existence.Because they think I killed my mom.

Kev The little wolf follows close behind me as I lead her up the hill to our den. When I reached down to carry her earlier, she stood up and shook outher fur, then gave me a lopsided grin. It seemed to be a dare from her animal, or maybe an invitation.Shrugging, I kicked off my pants and shifted.Then she happily trotted along beside me up the path. Jake was right her animal is definitely in control.I can see the conflict in her eyes every time I glance at her, the general confusion as to why her wolf is so easily trusting mine.It’s dangerous.I’m dangerous.But the little wolf seems quite taken with my purr, so I continue to emanate the sound to soothe her.It’s a natural reaction after observing her terror in the waves. My animal is hellbent now on protecting hers.The word Omega whispers through my mind. She doesn’t smell right, but something about her is calling to all my instincts.Some wolves have fated mates. Carnage Wolves have a different form of fate Alphas are inherent

Jordan love’s sweet aroma makes me so fucking hard, I nearly come from the scent alone.Jake groans, his head falling to her shoulder. “Fuck.”Yes. Yes, that’s exactly what I want to do. Fuck Vanessa .But Jake is already inside her, his knot claiming the sweet heaven between her thighs.Kev growls, as do I. Not in anger, but in hunger.Our mate is going into heat. Her gaze is liquid black, her pupils blown so wide I can barely see the whites of her eyes. That didn’t happen last time.Which tells me this is the real deal. She’s about to lose herself to estrus for days, maybe even a week or more.And I cannot fucking wait.“I have to address the pack,” Jake says, sounding agonized by the mere notion of having to leave her in this state.But we just suffered a major loss with Alpha Duncan’s death. And experienced a huge win by taking down Alpha Bryson.Jake doesn’t have a choice. This is where his duty as Pack Alpha will have to come first. “You can make it a quick speech,” I

Vanessa Blood.Sweat.Sex.I’m swimming in a sea of peppermint, ash, copper, and pine. I never want to surface.Swimming. Drowning. Swimming again.But there’s something not quite right. The bed is too lumpy. It’s… imperfect.And I really dislike that sensation. I stir from my cloud of dizzy desire and hit the lump on the bed. It’s soft and plushy and in the wrong place.Growling, I move it to the corner. But then I find another misshapen clump and have to move it, too.Which unearths a third one.And then a fourth. By the the tenth, I’m a snarling mess, ripping apart the bed and everything on it.Clearly, I need to make the bed again.Once I’m satisfied with the mattress and the lack of bumps, I start over. Carefully.I pick up sheets and shirts and jeans and towels and everything I can find, crafting the perfect bed to rest within. My males are here.I feel them watching me.One of them even hands items to me, trying to help. I purr when I like the offering and snarl when I dislike