All Chapters of The Alpha's Warlock: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

For anyone who’s ever needed a cup of coffee more than life itself,but couldn’t find their shoes Chapter 1 CursedIt had been years since I set foot in the Armitage pack's territory, and I'd hoped to keep that winning streak going for a while longer. Of course, being kidnapped and cursed had a way of changing your plans.Not that I was really setting foot in it now, more like setting hands and knees. I'd fallen so many times that I'd stopped trying to get back up, and was just crawling through the thick, loamy mud under the drenched forest canopy.The patter of chill rain on the back of my neck was bad enough, every drop sending new shivers down my spine, but my soaked jeans were chafing in every direction and on every sensitive bit of me. Why had I worn skinny jeans this tight again? Oh, right, going out clubbing, and not planning on being kidnapped and cursed. Mud squelched through my fingers and seeped into my ankle boots.I'd been so careless, so arrogant. My father, such as he

Chapter 3 The Only Option“It's not a list. I mean, I don't need any supplies, or herbs, or fucking chalk, for fuck's sake. Jesus.” I closed my eyes for a second, and the world felt like it was tipping around me. My stomach roiled. This was the last thing I wanted, but it was this, or die. And it turned out, I actually wouldn't rather die after all. “The ritual was forming a bond.”“Yeah, you said.” Matthew finally sounded impatient. I was surprised he'd lasted this long. Most people didn't, when they were talking to me. “Get to the point.”“If I'd interrupted it a little sooner, maybe the magic would just have broken. But the shaman finished the part that created the bond on my end. He hadn't started the part where the other guy got bound up too, but I was already hooked.”I swallowed hard around the lump in my throat, the words I needed to say dying out before I could even form them.Matthew leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Tell me, Nate.”“I need to complete a

Chapter 5 MatedWith my face pressed into Ian's pillow, I had to struggle for air. He pushed my thighs open, nudging so that my knees slid up the mattress and left me splayed open for him, completely exposed. I turned my head a little and gasped in a breath, squeezing my eyes shut.Ian reached over me and rummaged in the sideways milk crate he apparently used as a nightstand, and I cracked my eyes open enough to see him pull out a bottle of lube. It was only half full. Maybe he had visitors to his shack of solitude once in a while, then.The thought made my stomach twinge with…something unpleasant. How many of the Armitage pack had been on this bed, right where I was, ass up and ready for Ian to thrust inside? As the biker chick incident proved, he wasn't exactly picky — or at least, since according to Jared's account she'd been hot as hell, he might have been picky but he wasn't gay.Actually, strike that. Was he even bi?“Ian,” I whispered, and then let out a whimper as two slick f

The night after Ian and I mated wasn't the best night of sleep I'd ever had.Strike that, it was the worst. For one, Ian hogged the bed. That shouldn't have surprised me, since in all fairness he should have gotten two thirds of it to start with. But I ended up with a tiny little sliver of mattress, and only sleeping against the wall — and I do mean against the wall, squished on my side with my spine crammed against a wood panel — kept me from toppling off and rolling under the bed, possibly never to be seen again. I'd glanced around a little more while Ian was at the pack house getting food, and it quickly became obvious that the only part of the floor Ian swept was the middle.For two, I was still hungry. Ian's idea of ‘food that came from a grocery store’ was a dented can of minestrone soup and half a loaf of whole-wheat bread with all the gross seeds in it. Without butter.And third, even if my fucking useless mate had scrounged up something more to eat and had a better mattress —

Chapter 9 Dishonesty Is Important in a RelationshipSeconds ticked by, and Ian didn't move.“Ian,” I whispered, and reached out, gently pushing his hair back from his clammy forehead. I laid my hand against his neck. He had a pulse, and the relief of that nearly bowled me over. Of course, of course I'd have known if he was dead — the bond would have snapped, and possibly taken me out in the backlash. But it took me a minute to remember that, and to start to think clearly.And see clearly. At that moment, I saw Ian in a way I'd never seen him before. He was always wary, often scowling, constantly primed for action. Now he was more vulnerable than I could have imagined him: the thin skin around his eyes shadowed purple from exhaustion, the stubble on his cheeks and chin dark and rough against his waxy skin, his lips parted a little, mouth slack.I wanted to stroke his forehead again. I wanted to cradle his head in my lap and cry. I wanted him to wake up and hug me and tell me it was a