All Chapters of The Tyrant alpha: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

“Tea Fates?”Abertha is warming to her analogy. Her gray eyes start to dance like they do when she’s enjoying herself. “Uh-huh. Tea Fates are about the journey. Pups are great, but they’re interested in the bigger things—love and destiny and balance and justice. Destroying all sentient life and returning the world to its natural state. That kind of thing.” “Sounds like a mess.”“Oh, yes. It is. Look around. Obviously, the powers that be have to be working at cross purposes, right?”“So why do we all believe that mates are fated?” “’Cause they are.”“And when they’re not? Like Jimmy and Dierdre?”“They still are. The story’s just more—complicated. But people don’t want to think about that too much. Strains their little pea-sized noggins.” “My little pea-sized noggin is strained.”“I bet. Drink something.” She smiles wickedly. “Your choice.” She taps the plate of muffins. “And eat.”“So Killian and I are fated mates?”“Yes.”“But he doesn’t think we are?”“Appears so.”“And we’re not an

Killian drones on, and slowly, I relax. There are no more shivers or zips or zings. I’m warm, but I’m standing directly in the sun. I’m fine. Abertha fixed me.“So you need to think before you do stupid shit. If folks figure you’re moon mad—well, you don’t want that. Just—buck up. Rub some dirt in it. Walk it off. Understood?”He’s finally paused, and he wants a response.I have no idea what he means. Rub dirt in what?And moon mad? He knows I’m his mate. He must. Else why the speech about how much I suck? If he thought I was just nuts, he would’ve skipped to the part where Tye bounces me out the back exit.A flicker of anger flares in my chest. For a second, it’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him to shove it, but I learned young to watch my mouth. Males don’t haul off and pop you anymore on a whim, but they used to, and there’s no rule about it. They could. If Killian and his crew aren’t around, the elders will still backhand you if they don’t like your tone.So I grit my teeth.“D

“Conor, check him for a concussion. If he’s good, ten more. See you back at the gym.” I don’t wait. Once I make a decision, I go. I shift and lope north. They’ll catch up.I race east, and instantly, some of the tension eases. The wind riffles my fur, and the soil and leaves, wood and water, all the sights and sounds of my territory sift through my senses, unraveling the knot that’s been coiling in my gut.Maybe I’m spending too much time training the males and not enough time roaming the pack lands. Bad things happen when you stifle the wolf. You start hearing voices, for example.When we trot into camp, I expect him to give up our skin. The wolf doesn’t like buildings. He keeps his form, though. I don’t fight him; I never do. He sniffs, noting the fresh venison in the shed we use to butcher meat and wet pussy from a cabin along the common. Rowan and Lochlan.Lochlan’s supposed to be patrolling the southwest quadrant with Tye. Are we abandoning our posts to bang females now? That’s t

I am a once-in-a-hundred-years flip-shifter, alpha at eighteen, bigger and stronger than any competitor I’ve faced on the circuit. My wolf and I show no mercy to those who threaten the pack. We rule with an iron fist.And my wolf is drooling through this female’s jean skirt, luxuriating in the scent of her ripe pussy.“I like you.” She runs a finger down my muzzle and fuckin’ boops my nose. My wolf flops and wriggles until his upper half is plastered to her lower abdomen—her womb, where she’ll grow our young.Is that the wolf’s thought?Mine?She’s still propping herself up with her arms, and they’re wobbling, but she lets him lounge on her. He doesn’t have any concept of his weight. I’m gonna need to force him out of the skin if he doesn’t back off soon.There’s nothing but birdsong and the distant ratcheting of a wrench, so when she speaks, I startle.“You have to make Killian leave me alone,” she says low, almost under her breath.What?My wolf growls. He doesn’t like that either.

I dangle the clothes over the hamper lid, but I don’t let go.I should soak them in the sink so the place doesn’t reek of male. Laundry day isn’t until Friday. The other girls don’t want to catch a whiff of alpha every time they use the bathroom. Talk about harshing your mellow.I should do that, but instead, I walk them back to my bedroom, fold them neatly. and hang them over the chair by my bed where I put the clothes that I figure I can get another wear out of before washing.It’s dumb and embarrassing, something a girl would do right before her first heat, the kind of nesting mimicry that girls always got teased for in high school. It’s a ridiculous thing to do, but my wolf approves wholeheartedly. It gives her ideas.I head back to the shower, and while I scrub briskly from head to toe, rinsing off the fear scent with scalding hot water, she bounces around—the Byrnes forgotten—spitballing. We should go for a run with Killian’s wolf. Sleep huddled up next to him. Wear the skirt to