Alphonso Hargreeves Novels & Stories

The wooden gravel hit the hard surface. Doom arrived at the cage, a playful smile visible on his scarred face. “He's Alpha Ryker, the son of the community whore, Alpha Rheagor," Doom whispered, draping a thick robe over my body. I hate that just anyone can touch me but I was left with no choice. “And what do I need this information for?” I snort. “Alpha Rheagor is said to buy slaves annually. He's obsessed and doesn't mind passing the tradition to his son. He's ruthless and the son... He's said to have killed the greatest rogue alive.”

-Alpha Aiden. Crescent Pack, Greenville. Alpha Theo brought a good deal of misery to the Crescent Pack the day he died. The whole Pack had experienced true grief with the news of his death but I was most pained- because he was my father. This moment, I would be calmly accepting the news of his demise, and the next moment, an unnerving mixture of fright, rage, and grief would arrest me, until my emotions were shredded into unrecognizable pieces.

“But it seems to me that she is carrying an Alpha blood.” “You…” “Alpha Dante D’Angelo, my mate, Valerie Morozov.” He said, looking down at me. “Put the knife down, Valerie. You are going to end up hurting more than just yourself with these stupid reflexes that you’re having…”

It was the man from my office, the Alpha of Midnight Crescent. He looked a lot rougher than the last time that I had seen him. His greying hair had fallen out in places and he seemed to have aged a couple of decades. He was only a few years older than me. “Alpha?” I was confused, had he stopped the witches, had he figured out who was killing the pups in his pack. “Fuck, you don’t even know my name, do you?” He spits on the ground at my feet “Take these off.” That’s an order. I glare at him, waving my bound wrists at him.

Lorenzo suddenly said my name in a dark tone, and I pulled myself together, knowing I had to wake up and act. My attention went to the older man who pinned me with a strange look. “A very beautiful Omega, no doubt.” He smiled like he was relaxed, but I felt like I was standing in front of a dangerous snake. “I’m Patriarch Leandro Vasiliev. If you get tired of your Alpha’s bad mood, you’re welcome in my pack.” He said it like it was a joke, and Lorenzo answered with a low, dangerous warning growl that made my skin go tight.

he says looking over at the poor guy picking himself off the floor, what a bunch of a-holes. "I'll be looking for Richard, but I think it's highly unlikely that he's gonna be there, as I said him and Denton aren't friends and he isn't really a part of M.S.P, he just does their dirty work" I say as we get closer to the entrance, now we were only one car away from it being our turn "why aren't they opening the door for the women?" I ask giving the people in front a confused look, isn't that a bit rude? "I'm not having another man opening your door and helping you out, that's my job" he growls slightly which does answer my question, Alpha's are very possessive.

Sienna whispered behind me, “That was suspiciously easy.” She then squeezed my arm. “I’ll be right here.” I followed the woman down the hall. Victor Hargrove stood when I walked in. He looked to be around his late sixties. Silver hair. Suit that fit well enough to be expensive. A watch worn loose on his wrist in the specific way of men who want you to notice it without seeming like they want you to notice it. And a smile, the kind that immediately made my skin itch. His eyes moved over me slowly. Too slowly. The full, unhurried sweep of a man who had decided he had the upper hand before I opened my mouth.

A rogue had come down through the east woods and caught him on patrol, and it left a long tear down his forearm and something worse across the ribs, and he held the line long enough for the rest of us to put the thing down before he listed, his legs starting to fold under him, and he started leaning into me harder than he'd ever have let himself lean sober. Forty years old, three kids, a man who apologizes for bleeding on you. He apologized twice on the walk in. "Save it," I said. "Stay awake." The night staff wasn't going to be enough — not for the ribs, not the way they looked. I needed Alice. So I went to her quarters first, Barry's arm slung over my shoulders, his weight shifting every t

Alaric stood at the edge of the field, arms crossed. His gaze swept over every pair of fighters with cold precision. When he wasn't speaking, his entire presence radiated the kind of Alpha dominance that made everyone tense on instinct. This was Alaric. The hero of the entire werewolf world. The legendary Alpha who'd risen to godlike status in the Vampire War. Every pack revered him. Every enemy retreated at the sound of his name. But my second look landed on his arm. Alaric wore a long-sleeved training shirt. When he raised his right hand to adjust a warrior's stance, his sleeve shifted slightly, revealing a small patch of skin on the inside of his forearm.