Rise of the Dark Alpha

~ SASHA ~

There was a moment, before the male brushed up against her, that Sasha almost laughed. As this rippling god of a man stalked towards her with the rolling gait of a predator and it occurred to her how ridiculous this would look to anyone from her life. For a split-second she saw herself through eyes of someone from her world: A young woman, alone, surrounded by strong and handsome men who were, apparently, going to be offering a free strip show…

But the male was deadly serious, she could see, his eyes bright and smile flashing. And as he moved, he sucked in his stomach, moving his arms and chest to make his muscles ripple.

That hysterical laughter tried to bubble in her throat as the male finally reached her, walking right up to her toes. He stopped in front of her, forcing her to stop walking as well, and they stared at each other.

She almost opened her mouth to ask him what he wanted, but she remembered Zev's warning not to speak, and clenched her teeth. No matter how awkward—or hilarious—this might be, she needed to just let it happen around her.

Then she swallowed as the guy lifted one of his hands to stroke the underside of her forearm, his fingers trailing down the inside of her sleeve, from her elbow to the wrist.

Sasha's breath caught in shock, and his eyes flashed again.

"I am Erghan. A hunter. A wolf," he said, his voice low and husky, eyes hooded. "Strong and healthy. You will never go hungry, but fill those holes in your cheeks and the rounds of your ass, plump and ready for summer."

Sasha blinked—was he saying she was too skinny?

But before she could consider that, the guy leaned in and whispered, "… and for babes."

His eyebrow levered up to make the statement suggestive, and Sasha had to cover a spluttering laugh with a cough.

Not to be deterred, the male slipped to her side, facing her, his chest brushing her upper arm, then shoulder-blades as he circled her, inhaling her scent.

"Your scent is heavenly, like the Jasmine blossoms in the spring—"

But Sasha had just realized that by moving, he'd given her some space and she could walk forward a few steps. So she did.

The nearest males howled, laughing and teasing the guy who hadn't followed her, but was apparently now the target of jeers and jokes as she walked away from him.

He didn't stay at her back, didn't follow when she moved.

Was that all it took? Did she just have to stay quiet and walk away from them? She could do that!

Stifling a smile she kept walking, one foot in front of the other, until she reached the first line of men who now blocked her way. The guy directly in front of her met her gaze, his arms folded across his chest. He was older than Sasha, his temples just barely peppered with gray. His eyes were ice-blue and his dark hair mussed. He stood head and shoulders taller than her, and rather than the showy flattery of the previous guy, his smile seemed… quietly confident.

"You're very beautiful," he said in a voice like honeyed butter. Sasha swallowed and waited, forcing her face to a flat, expressionless gaze as the guy leaned into her space without unfolding his arms. "The young are not strong enough for you, the old do not have enough life left in their pricks. You need a true male, strong and certain of himself, young enough to father, but old enough to match your will. I am a scout, and a woodworker. I fight to keep others safe and will protect you." Then he dropped his voice to a whisper and leaned into her ear. "And I have very talented fingers," he rasped, then turned his head so his nose brushed the corner of her jaw.

Sasha flinched, not expecting the intimate touch, though he'd kept his arms folded and wasn't reaching for her.

It was instinct to side-step him, to pull away from the invasion of her space and move around him, and once again the men howled and laughed, shoving and jostling the guy who had tried to attract her. Sasha stepped into a gap between the men, and once again they opened to let her pass—and once again only allowed her a short amount of space, opening in a circle around her to let another male step forward.

For the first five or six, it was almost comical—the stripping of clothing, the seductive voices, the sparkling eyes and flexed muscles. When Kyelle had said the males would display, she hadn't been exaggerating. One even stripped down to what she could only describe as a loin-cloth and began to dance.

The urge to laugh closed her throat and brought tears to her eyes. For a moment she closed them, wondering if this was all some stupid, erotic dream her frustrated body had conjured because she wanted Zev so badly.

But no. When she opened her eyes, the men were all still there, and she was still walking slowly through them—and now she could feel eyes on the back of her neck.

Eyes that yearned and burned. Eyes that she knew, if she turned, were the brightest blue, outlined in another blue so dark it was almost black. Eyes that shone in the dark because they picked up so much light. And that sat in the most handsome face she'd ever seen, over a chiseled jaw that she yearned to curl her fingers into again.

Thoughts of Zev had her turning her head to find him, hear heart beating faster, and that space between her thighs throbbing when her mind turned back to way he'd kissed her in the fox hole. To how close she'd come to—

"No, Sasha!" her favorite voice growled from somewhere behind her. She turned to find him, to ask with her eyes, when Zev's voice bloomed in her mind: You can't let yourself get aroused—it will only encourage them!

Sasha blinked as something shifted in the crowd, and suddenly the males pulled in around her, closer, their eyes predatory.