Alpha Wolf Protector (Wolf Shifters 0f Wakerlin Book 2) Read online

  Contents

  Alpha Wolf Protector: A Paranormal Women’s Fiction Romance

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Sample: Human Alpha Protector: Wolf Shifters of Wakerlin Book 1

  Chapter 1

  Author’s Note

  Alpha Wolf Protector

  A Paranormal Women’s Fiction Romance

  (Wolf Shifters of Wakerlin Book 2)

  Alicia Banks

  Copyright © 2020 by Alicia Banks:

  All rights are reserved.

  It is illegal to reproduce any part of this Book in any form i.e. mechanical, electronical, printed, or audible form including storage information and retrieval system without any written permission from the Author, except brief quotation in a Book Review.

  ALPHA WOLF PROTECTOR: A PARANORMAL WOMEN’S FICTION ROMANCE (WOLF SHIFTERS OF WAKERLIN BOOK 2)

  Alpha Wolf Protector: A Paranormal Women’s Fiction Romance

  Blurb:

  What would you do if you ever fell in love with a man who is a wolf shifter? That alpha wolf didn’t only touch my body that night but he touched my soul too.

  I yearn for his touch.

  His touch is comforting and hot at the same time.

  He makes me feel young and beautiful again.

  And I can do nothing but give in.

  I want to be selfish for a while.

  And forget the fact that I am already married and a Mom.

  I know he likes making my body tremble.

  I couldn’t stop fantasizing.

  His seducing fragrance increases the desire in me.

  But…

  He is, danger and risk.

  He said he is a half wolf and half human.

  I have to keep my son safe.

  I know he could be even a bigger threat than I have imagined.

  But why am I dying to get closer?

  ***

  Prologue

  The Woods of Wakerlin sat cloaked in unsettling darkness. The skies stretched far and wide overhead, not a single star glimmering in the distance. Even the trees stood lanky and unmoving with no rushing fall of water. No wind was whispering through leaves. At this hour, no life stirred.

  A moment ago; men, women, and children had paced the grimy dank streets, the monstrous night wave forcing them behind bolted doors. The air that had hummed with a troubled urgency, only a few seconds ago, now stood still. The chillness was sharp. The night thicker than ever.

  Then slowly and gradually, the dense clouds parted. Blinding silver light rained upon the rotten county as a spark of electricity slipped into the air. People rushed to their windows with bewildered gazes glued to the sky.

  It was entirely bizarre.

  After days, no months of moonless nights, it appeared that God had finally decided to light up their county’s pitch-black nights. People stood rooted to their spots, hands clapped over their mouths, eyes petrified in disbelief. As they watched, the large yellow moon was hanging too low in the sky.

  The air sang its usual silent song, at least until an earth-shattering scream sliced it apart.

  The beast let out a piercing wail into the arms of the chill winds. The night around him was death-still. The cold air silent, save the hissing sound of his body as it whizzed through the grass, talons digging the earth, stormy gray eyes fixed ahead. The darkness was welcoming. The delicious smell was stirring amidst it, all too familiar. And with every swift step, the beast felt itself getting stronger, sensed the long-lost malice in it sting through his very bones, awakening all desires.

  The small, rickety cottage loomed into view. Pale yellow light leaked through the tiny windows, the loud, animalistic voices laughing within, burning with might – his might. At the very sight of it, the beast dragged in a slow breath. He leaned his head back, letting his gaze escape to the pale moon, staring curiously overhead. Peculiar energy rushed through his eyes, the silvery moonlight coursing through every limb, blessing a dark power. The beast sagged under the weight of it, his rust-red lips curving into a cunning smile. The gods had finally listened to his wish, after all.

  In a fraction of second, the beast was at the threshold with his metal boots hitting the ground. A wave of energy shot through his body, long silver hair digging back into his skin, his spine facing the sky, and hands hitting his sides. The brilliant moonlight caught in the rings of his eyes, which glinted emerald green.

  As he sauntered into the room, a loud cheer erupted across the length of it. Whistles and applause broke the air, and men and women rose to their feet with veneration saturating their hungry gazes.

  The beast held his hand up, and a deep quietude pervaded the air. He stood right before them; broad shoulders held back, a fence in his strong jaw.

  "My dear brothers and sisters of the Wakerlin Woods." His voice was slow, deep – and strangely potent. It sucked the attention of every soul in the room, their eyes locked on him. "We are gathered here on this prestigious night to celebrate the coming of better times. To celebrate war. To celebrate our freedom. " A roar of joy broke in the crowd. "For long years, we were forced behind closed doors with our rights denied, and our voices were always going unheard.”

  My brother Marco," He instinctively spat on the ground before continuing, "has brought along with himself a damned rule. A rule carved by injustice causing exile to us folks." His mouth curved into a monstrous grimace. "But no more, my friends. No more!" He let out a low growl, which was followed by loud cries of rapture from the people. Those in the very front could catch the whiff of rage issuing off the beast, see the purpose in his eyes, a feel a hunger for victory possessing his very senses. It only drew them closer to him, like moths drawn to a burning flame.

  He was their god; their only ray of blinding optimism. And they had sold all their faith to their master.

  "All I ask of you is some patience and faith in yourselves and our prospects. We have struggled for months on ends, and our reward is now within reach, folks. So, hang tight to each other. Tonight, let us pledge to fight with our blood and sweat, and push to our extreme limits. To reclaim what has always been ours: The majestic Wakerlin woods."

  He stepped away from the podium with his hands stuffed into his pockets as he headed towards the door. A man appeared at his side,

  "Sire, the Usra tribe has also sold their allegiance to you. A delegation from our county met their leader today, and we have their word. However, they ask arms and a decent portion of the spoils of war-"

  "Money is no concern, Hermatus. Make arrangements for their encampments." He kept moving forward, pausing at the next question asked.

  "Yes, sire. Are you meeting with their leader at dawn?"

  "No, I'm riding at dawn. I shall be back in a fortnight. Till then, I expect you to handle matters with acute shrewdness. Should any upset arise, inform me immediately, and I'll dispatch new orders. Am I clear?"

  "Perfectly, sire."

  With a stiff nod, the beast marched ahead, and Hermatus called from behind,

  "But pray, where are you riding to, sire?"

  The beast averted his head, glancing at Hermatus from over his shoulder.

  "The Arkshire County."

  Chapter 1

  Marco Farkas couldn’t understand why he felt so drawn to her. She didn’t exactly walk with the best aura. It looked like she deliberately wanted to be invisible, dres
sed in grey sweats with her dark hair up in a bun. He’d caught a whiff of it passing by, and it stopped him in his tracks. Pine, with a sharp twinge of the river.

  Who smelled like that?

  Her presence had him nailed to the ground, and he took a discreet look over his shoulder as the petite woman strolled by him with a metal basket clinking around with a glass bottle of milk, some bags of candy, and a big bag of chips. His eyes traveled the length of her plain attire, and he had to admit that her pants really complimented the curve of her bottom. But her face…it intrigued him.

  Her eyes scanned the freezers for frozen pizza, irises practically glowing in their hazel hue. He couldn’t describe her skin, but by the way the light bounced off of her, he would have mistaken her for a walking halo—lips full of life, like strawberries harvested in the winter.

  His heart faltered as he turned to gaze at her properly; the smell of pine still wafting off of her. And in such a long time, he was reminded of home –the vast Wakerlin woods that he would zip through. He warmed at the thought of the place. It had been some time since he had visited the pack. And he was now somehow longing for it.

  His mind drifted back to focus. And, the peculiar woman had trotted quite a many paces away now.

  Marco's head was heavy with curiosity. Generally, he'd catch many beautiful women crossing his way. He felt the need to steal another glimpse of their faces. But this woman, she was different. Marco felt it in the very core of his chest. It was almost like an intoxicating yearn to walk up to her and get to know her better. She was definitely not from around here. But then again, from exactly had she come?

  “Amelia.” The woman almost jumped, startled as she tried to keep the basket from toppling. A man appeared beside her from the aisle across.

  “Amelia, huh?” Marco whispered, feeling the soft touch of her name perch on his tongue like it was home.

  Amelia.

  “I’m almost done,” she whispered hurriedly, knuckles white over the handle of her basket.

  “Well, make it quick,” he growled, “The boy will be over soon, and I’m not missing a minute of game night.”

  Marco felt like a sharp claw had plucked his heart. Pain. Where did that come from? Men like the one around Amelia couldn’t bother him. He was Marco William Farkas. Leader of the Wakerlin Woods. And hence, he was undoubtedly far more intimidating than a plump man in a striped top and khakis that did a lousy job holding in his pot-belly.

  But Marco realized that it was pure rage that he felt coursing through his veins. It was rage at the man who faced his girl with an uncaring face with coarse lines of indifference creasing it. Marco had a strong urge to smack him in the jaw and teach him a lesson for daring to speak like that. Fucking piece of shit. God, it was tough restraining the urge. The last thing he needed to do was cause a scene in front of her. It could be something that could lead to consequences for her later on.

  Marco looked at Amelia deeply. And, for a split second, their eyes locked all across the rows and rows of people dividing them. Her whole existence felt like some token of beautiful remembrance. A remembrance that had been long-lost, yet right now, it was finally before him. A shiver ran through Marco's body. He shook off the very thought since it was preposterous beyond measure. But suddenly, it all dawned upon him. The world melted beside him as realization carved deep in his mind. And it was all so sudden to him, clear as day what was going on. But it didn’t make any sense.

  She couldn’t be my mate.

  She was clearly human.

  ***

  Amelia finally made it to the counter, placing her things on the conveyor belt and waiting behind a small family of three as they got their groceries checked out. Kyle left to start the car. As she stood, waiting in line, Amelia hoped that she had brought enough cash to cover the shopping, because her credit card had maxed out. Anxiety tore at her mind. It was a feeling that had become a constant plague. She couldn't understand how she would make up for the growing debt. Kyle was no help at all, having lost his recent job only a few hours ago. Workplace indecency, they had claimed.

  Amelia still remembered the ugly argument that followed his sacking, the anger flaring through his body that he would take out on his wife and kid. But Amelia had stood her ground then. She angrily reminded him how he needed to contribute more to the household and his responsibility as a father, even though he had long forgotten that of a husband. But the argument had only concluded with his rough hand on her cheek. Amelia's breath lost in vain yet again.

  It had all but become standard now. The perpetual agony that corralled her mind had become Amelia’s rueful partner.

  But payday was around the corner. It was the only thing Amelia had to be relieved about. Amid Kyle’s unemployment and Alex’s after-school tuitions, she could barely make ends meet for simple groceries. And now she has to spend the last of her cash on…candy and chips? All to assure the comfort of an overgrown child. But Amelia didn’t mind it. Alex was her only piece of solace in this miserable universe. The single flame of faith that kept her going kept her hustling, despite her husband's general mistreatment of her. She knew she had to do something about it. For months, she had been gathering the courage to finally speak her mind. But fear gripped her senses and, she would always surrender. Kyle would kill her this time if she brought up a divorce again. The last time she brought it up was six months ago, and she had barely made it out that day.

  Amelia shook off the memory with a sharp shiver. It was all too vivid – rage etched across his face, his hands gripping her tight, foul clouds of breath hitting her face, and a slew of spit flying in the air. No, Amelia silently pleaded with her mind to stop. Not again. She could not afford to break down in front of all these strangers.

  Finally, it was her turn.

  The beeping, mixed smells of food, the fluorescent bulbs, it all felt so magnified. Too bright. It was too overwhelming there as her head started to throb with pain. A pang was pulsating through her mind.

  “Ma’am, it’s twelve dollars.”

  Oh no, she was a few dollars short. Color rushed in her cheeks as she grabbed the milk, ready to return it until she caught a credit card pushed towards the cashier followed by a deep voice that reached into Amelia's chest and gripped at whatever remained of her heart.

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  His voice. It was so gentle, yet so husky and strong at the same time. The way a sharp-toothed wolf would stand guard around their cub, nuzzling them with comfort. Amelia felt drawn towards it. She could sink into it, and let it wrap around her like a sheet of satin.

  Amelia cocked her head, trying to steal a glimpse of the stranger as her breath caught in her throat. A wave of insecurity washed over her, and she felt so small standing next to him like that. Embarrassment stained her cheeks red, pulling her hands closed around each other. Amelia despised such a feeling of weakness. She didn't want to be indebted to this debonair man. Hell, he was too intimidating. The white shirt was snug against his lean body, his shoulders broad and her eyes followed a stubble on a strong jaw that would make anyone mistake him for an Abercrombie model. But his eyes. They were such a warm shade of grey, looking into her so deeply that it was almost impossible to tear her gaze away from his without pain. Her heart hit her chest with an uncomfortable ripple, yearning for another look at him.

  But she couldn’t. If Kyle is watching from somewhere; somehow, she could be in serious trouble. Amelia instantly turned her head away from him, her lips pursed, and gaze hitting the very floor she wished so hard would swallow her.

  “Thank you,” I whisper, “Let me pay you back when I can, though.”

  “You don’t have to, re-”

  “No, please. I insist."

  “Very well. If that’s what you would like, sure,” he said, a reassuring smile at the edge of his lips. She could feel the warmth in his voice, and it was very kind. “I’m Marco, by the way. Marco Farkas.”

  “Amelia Jones,” She replied softly, watching the cashier
putting her things away in a plastic bag. If she were honest, she felt a little too ashamed. She was indebted yet again. “I could transfer you the money on the cash app.”

  “I’ll text you the details on your number, then.”

  Wait; what? Did he ask for her number? Amelia was caught off-guard.

  “Oh, uh…” She didn’t know what to say, “Of course.”

  He handed her his phone that looked like a brand-new iPhone XR. How do people afford these things? Nevertheless, she punched in her number and handed it over, sneaking a look at him as his fingers brushed her. It was electrifying, and she could only be glad she was in sweats, or he would’ve seen her arms and known. He was a handsome man, well-built with a chiseled face. He was so beautiful, that it hurt knowing that she could never have him. Gosh, what?

  No, she was married, and a stranger was the last person to take ahold of her mind. She watched him tap away at his phone, and Amelia felt hers ring soon after.

  “Marco. Remember.” He said, his voice once again sending a wave of warmth over her body. What was this feeling?

  "Thanks again, Mr. Farkas." She caught him flinch as she inwardly smiled to herself. She grabbed her bag and scurried out, hoping Kyle hadn’t seen anything through the window. Luckily, he’d just pulled up to the entrance.

  “The car’s acting up,” he grumbled as she hopped into the car. He smacked her knee with the back of his hand, “I told you to take it in for a tune up.”

  “I-I-” the stammer had become a norm around him, “There just wasn’t enough money.”

  “Then get another fucking job.”

  He floored it.

  Chapter 2

  Moments after their brief interaction at the supermarket, Marco had run a comprehensive research on Amelia Jones. Getting home, he slumped into his bed with his laptop cracked open.