The Alpha's Collateral

Liz’s POV

That night I couldn’t get to sleep for worrying. As acting Luna of the Moon Tides pack I’d been doing a lot of that lately.

Someone began to hammer at the door.

“Open up, in the name of Alpha Byron,” a loud voice urged.

If this was Ricky playing a prank, I would give him a piece of my mind. He was always forgetting his key.

I descended the staircase which led to the foyer only to see one of the Omegas had beaten me to it.

“What should I do, Luna?” Jeannie asked.

“Let him in, of course,” I snapped. Though I wasn’t mad at her.

Those bolts were heavy and stiff and she was so small. It seemed to take an age given that she had to fetch a stool.

The words of reproach died on my lips when I saw the men outside. There were three of them dressed in the colours of our Alpha neighbour, leaf green and earth brown.

What a time for our Beta to be away visiting his grandpups.

My legs began to tremble as I saw Eric lying prone close to the fountain.

“Can I help you?” I managed, wondering how badly he was hurt.

Mom had taught me that being polite could sometimes take the tension out of a situation and I was badly in need of that.

“Is Alpha Richard here?”

“He’s sleeping,” I lied, not wanting to let them know how defenceless we were.

“And you are – ?”

I looked up at the bearded speaker who towered over me by at least a foot, self-conscious in my checked flannel pyjamas.

“Acting Luna, Elizabeth Bell. Did our security guard meet with an accident?”

“You might say that.”

It was the one wearing the holster who spoke. I didn’t care for the smirk.

“Alpha Byron demands your presence,” the tall guy said.

“I don’t think so. He doesn’t rule me.”

“On the contrary. You are now his property.”

“What?”

I took a shaky step backwards.

“If you don’t believe us, wake your brother.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Pack some things and be quick about it,” the armed man threatened. “Comply, or Gavin will end this miserable Omega’s life.”

I gasped to see the third man, the swarthy one who had yet to speak holding a knife to Jeannie’s throat.

Thinking fast, I made what I hoped was a reasonable request. “At least let me shower and change.”

“You have fifteen minutes. Blondie here’s counting on you.”

I ran upstairs, hoping nobody else would come to investigate. We lived alone except for a few servants in a mansion separate from the packhouse, both of which had seen better days.

My mind was whirling. Could it be that Ricky owed money to Alpha Byron?

If ever there was an irresponsible Alpha, it was him. I had been acting Luna since Mom passed three months ago. Dad hadn’t been long in joining her in the ground.

I’d promised them I would always put the pack first.

We hadn’t yet appointed a Gamma and Delta after the previous two died of a fever. It left us vulnerable, a pack without either a strong leader or hierarchy.

Maybe I was wrong to submit so readily. Yet if it came to a war there was no way we could win.

I found a modest dress I seldom wore. Leaving my hair down and my face free of cosmetics other than a lip salve, I packed a small case, making a point. Then I left a message for our Epsilon, Dave, on his cell apprising him of the situation and telling him to do nothing until Alpha Richard returned.

Returning downstairs I saw that Jeannie had already been released and was kneeling beside Eric.

“Fetch the medic,” I instructed.

I wanted her out of harm’s way and was taking no chances.

What lay in store for me was anybody’s guess.

The one I knew only as Gavin was driving the SUV. I didn’t want conversation yet the silence was killing me.

Twenty minutes later we arrived at the Wild Horses packhouse. It wasn’t a ranch as the name might have implied. The pack had obtained its famed wealth from hotel chains and casinos. That explained the classy design of the three-storey building which definitely looked out of place on the edge of a desert.

The giant opened the door and gestured for me to get out. My throat was dry and I began to wish I’d drunk more than a single glass of water before surrendering myself to them.

A tall woman was waiting in the entrance, dressed to the nines. Her skin was flawless even without foundation and I lowered my eyes, knowing this was a ranking female.

“You took your time, Philip,” she said, scowling at the one with the beard.

“The Luna insisted on bathing,” he replied, making her huff.

That was when I realised she was probably not much older than me.

“Bring her,” she ordered, turning on her heel.

I envied that slinky walk yet there was no way I was going to emulate it under these circumstances.

The luxury inside was just blinding. Chandeliers emitted golden light from above while the carpet was as soft as a cat’s fur. I was amazed to see so many people up and about at this hour.

She led the way to a library. I tried not to stare at the pristine volumes of classic literature – my personal passion – as the door closed behind us.

“Any problems, Mo?”

The casual query came from the man sitting in an armchair close to a faux fireplace. I could only see him in profile yet recognised him instantly from the TV.

“Apparently not,” the woman said.

“She came willingly enough.”

This from the man with the holster, the one whose name I still didn’t know.

“You may go. All of you.”

I hung my head, not wanting to get off on the wrong foot with someone who had control over me for the foreseeable.

When the command came to go and stand in front of him, I froze. My legs literally turned to jelly, shock setting in at last.

“Forgive me, Alpha,” was all I managed before crumpling to the floor.

I came round on a hard chair, with an unpleasant odour under my nose.

“Grandmother’s smelling salts. Works every time.”

“Spirit of hartshorn,” I murmured, amazed to find I wasn’t bound.

“If you say so. Byron Sebastian Archimedes. I own this house and everything in it.”

Including me. I was this close to saying it.

“Liz Bell,” I said. “You – you can’t keep me here.”

“Oh yes I can, beauty, thanks to your brother.”

I felt my cheeks burn even though the shame wasn’t mine.

“How much does he owe you?”

“More than you know.”

I took the time to scrutinise my captor. He was broad chested with glossy black hair cut short, a sharp jawline and hawk nose. The green eyes which snapped back towards me, somehow sensing my attention, were both piercing and intimidating.

I was being assessed in my turn.

“Is Ricky okay?”

“He’ll live. Tell me,” he leaned back in the armchair, steepling his fingers, “are you going to be a good girl or do I seize your pack and all its assets?”