บททั้งหมดของ The Tyrant alpha: บทที่ 471 - บทที่ 480

I stride over to the ledge and survey the camp below, hands on my hips, pretending that I have some dignity left. Folks are slow to rise today. They usually are after a successful hunt.I see little Leon has beat his dam awake. He’s snuck from her den and toddled all the way down to the clearing and across camp to the bonfire where he’s begging bread from Rodric. When Annie comes out, we’d best stop there first and take him back before Delphie wakes up, misses him, and panics.Just as I make the plan, Annie clears her throat behind me. I spin, overeager, my heart catching in my throat. In the daylight, she’s twice as lovely. My faded gray sweater swims on her, and the pants bag around her legs like potato sacks. She tamed her hair and tied it back with what looks like a strip from yesterday’s gown.With her brown hair and eyes sparkling in the sunshine, she looks like a forest sprite. She clasps her hands and rocks on her small feet, bashful but enthralled, just like me. She takes me

“That was one for you. This one is for Annie,” I warn Efa. I do a little defensive maneuvering as I offer my mate the next bite. It makes it to Annie’s mouth, but it’s a close thing.“Me now!” Efa demands, but when I offer her the next chunk, she pinches it off the fork, and with no warning, tries to feed it to Annie by ramming it through her closed lips. Annie’s head jerks back, her fingers flying to her face. I tense.Annie recovers almost immediately. “Oh, delicious,” she mumbles as she collects mashed apple from her chin and shovels it into her mouth. “Thank you for sharing with me, Efa.”Efa, pleased with herself, reaches down, grabs another handful of hash from my plate, and is halfway to smashing it into Annie’s mouth when I catch her by the forearm. “Whoa, sweetling. Too much of a good thing.”Efa, quick on the pivot, twists her little arm like a snake and crams the fistful of food into her own maw.“Oh, Efa, no,” Nessa sighs, noticing what her littlest is doing. She’s got her

My wolf cranes his head to look back at her and accidentally breaks her grip on his scruff, so she loops her arms around his neck and scoots so she can lie flat on her stomach.Triumph, pride, and anticipation ignite my wolf’s blood. Our mate trusts us. He stalks further into the stream until he can float and paddle lazily in circles. One by one, the pups lose interest, and we lose our escort as they venture off to chase dragonflies and harass crawfish.Annie’s breasts and belly press against my wolf’s back with every breath she draws. We’re a pack of two. Gradually, she relaxes. She lowers her cheek to rest on his shoulder and trails her fingers in the water, sighing. Her heat radiates through my wolf’s fur. He splashes her legs gently with his tail to cool her off.We float around and around while the sun rises higher. In the distance, a hammer rings out. Voices carry from a gathering of males nearby planning a scouting run. Over by the curing hut, a ribbon of musky smoke curls into

“Come on,” I tell Justus, striding for the den. I don’t bother grabbing his hand. He’ll follow.I duck into the den and take a deep breath. This is exactly right. There is the apple crate of books, the rag rug that smells like pack, the pallet that will make a fine nest.Nothing in here smells like a place where I’ve been afraid, and besides, I have a good, strong mate. He won’t let anything get to me.I go to the willow basket and unpack the sheets and blankets and clean but threadbare clothes that my mate has worn all these years when we were apart. Why was that again? I can’t remember now. My brain isn’t working right.All of a sudden, my certainty flees. My eyes blur with tears.“What’s wrong, Annie?” Justus asks from the entranceway. He’s lingering there, waiting to be invited, as he should.“You left me. Where were you?” I face him, clutching a patchwork quilt to my chest.His face falls, and he steps forward. My wolf snarls in my throat. He has not been invited. The nest is not

“Trust me,” he shushes, the hot head of his cock already notching at my entrance. He flexes his hips and sinks into me, a groan of pure relief torn from his throat. He fills me so completely that I ache where I take him, but I love it.I pant through the strain, and he gathers me close as he thrusts, cradling me to his chest, kissing my lips, my brow, my cheeks, the tip of my nose. I start to rock my hips in time.“You’re so beautiful, Annie,” he rumbles in my ear. “So perfect for me. My Annie. Mine.”I sigh and ride his bucking hips, his cock stretching me until I feel like a glove made for him.“Come for me, now,” he growls. “Now, Annie.”Hot cum floods my womb, and his knot catches and swells, tearing a raw shout from my throat. His fingers find my clit while his fangs sink into my shoulder.I scream, bucking against him, but I’m caught, so he moves with me, hushing me.I hover another second on the edge, somehow above myself, watching his strong arms tremble as they wrap around me