Alpha Breed: Werewolf Bikers (Sex & Violence Book 1) Read online

  Brienne’s knees threatened to give out beneath her as the realization of her dream’s living and breathing reality mixed with the passionate desire surging through her womanhood.

  Fucking werewolves were fucking real!

  The young woman could feel the moonlight caress her skin with a kind of energy, and as she breathed in she found that the scent of the scene was sharp in her nose. There was power everywhere, flowing as invisible rivers through the land, the trees, and the shifters who stood around the burning fires. The taste of alpha blood was on her lips as the raw energy of the two combatants spilled into the clearing. Brienne fell to her knees and pushed her hands into the dirt as she arched her back and moaned with a mixture of desire and raw exaltation. She felt more alive in that moment that at any other time in her life, as if the sight of the wolves and the knowledge of their existence had unlocked something inside her. It was like a door had opened and from it poured a kind of magic, for what else could it be? She was watching two alpha werewolves battling each other, and if her dreams continued to hold true they fought for the right to breed her.

  Soon the winner would take her, and in that moment she wanted nothing more than to be taken. Brienne heard a whelp of pain and opened her eyes in time to see Roland holding Arn above his head and slamming the smaller shifter hard into the dirt. Brienne felt Arn’s body hit the ground as if she was the ground herself. Arn was in a daze, his body slashed and bashed bloody, though he whimpered again and exposed his neck to Roland before the powerful alpha struck him again. The dominant alpha gathered a lungful of air and roared mightily at Arn’s pack as he stood over the defeated alpha’s prone form. Roland then stood up straight and turned away from the scene to return to the fire. When he did the shifter locked eyes with Brienne as she still crouched on all fours in front of the fire.

  Roland was sweaty and bloody and filled with the power of his victory, and to Brienne’s eyes it looked as if hundreds of tiny Celtic knots swirled beneath his skin. The sound that came from Brienne’s mouth was something akin to a snarl, though had enough moan in it to display her frenzied arousal. If this was her dream made flesh, then she was going to own it, the young woman thought to herself. She felt just as powerful as the dominant shifter, even if her’s was a different kind of power. In her mind’s eye she could see that Roland was blood and fur and fire, whereas she was the earth itself, the air, and even the silver light of the moon.

  All eyes were on the young woman as she stood up and stalked towards Roland as she pulled her top off. She let it fall to the ground and then removed her braw to fling it away as she reached Roland. Once she had drawn close she could see that the dozens of claw marks and bruises he’d endured during his fight with Arn were already beginning to close and heal. Just like the legends this lycanthrope was nearly impervious to physical harm’s longer lasting effects. Brienne boldly reached out and unfastened Roland’s belt, then pulled his jeans and boxer briefs down to his knees as she knelt before him.

  Roland let out a low moan that sounded more like a growl as Brienne took hold of his thick shaft and began licking the tip of the shifter’s impressive manhood. The young woman looked up at the alpha and as their eyes met she spoke.

  “Howl for me,” said Brienne, and the shifter smiled wickedly as he tilted his head back and drew a deep breath. As he did the young woman took him into her mouth, and the sound of his howl echoed through the forest.

  Brienne continued to bob her head back and forth on his member as Roland groaned and brushed her hair out of her face so that he could see himself slide in and out of her gorgeous mouth. The young woman knew that everyone in the camp was watching, and more than that she felt as if the whole of the earth and its creatures bore witness as well. Brienne was caught up in the tempest of energy and fellated her man with renewed gusto, taking the base of his shaft in one hand while cradling his balls in her other. Soon the only sounds in the camp were those of her slurping on his manhood and the crackle of the twin fires as everyone watched their mating with rapt attention.

  She was lost in the taste of him, and the particular smell of his shifter nature had become something she could sense, and she wanted as much of it as she could get. Brienne pulled his thick shaft from her mouth and pulled him by the waist down to the ground, then pushed him gently onto his back. The two of them worked furiously to removed the last bits of clothing the two of them had, and then Brienne crawled on top of him. Roland’s hands were still clawed and dreadfully powerful as he gripped her waist while she lowered herself onto his throbbing pillar.

  He was so large she felt as if her internal organs were rearranging themselves to cope with his size, and she loved the pleasant struggle to take all of him into her. Within moments she was riding him like a wild beast, all pretense of decorum was lost, and to all the assembled shifters it was clear that Brienne was taking Roland, not the other way around. She felt power unlike anything she’d ever experienced, and the fact that he’d just fought with tooth and claw to win her made the young woman feel even more savagely aroused. Brienne held Roland’s wrists and the two of them worked together to lift her up and slam her down on his manhood as the young woman moaned loudly in ecstasy.

  He might be the alpha of this pack, and may have bested a rival shifter, but she was the dominant lover. Brienne, the nineteen year old college girl who had been all but kidnapped from the frat party, rode the violent alpha werewolf like she owned him. Somehow, deep in the core of her being, the young woman knew this was the way it had to be. She had to dominate the alpha with her womanhood, and as the wolf beneath her thrust himself upwards into her she knew that he could feel the energy rising within her.

  It was like magic, a deep and old magic from a time before the cities of men or their frail gods. Brienne felt connected to the earth itself, and the hard shifter cock she rode was simply one of the mightier roots that fed the Tree of Life. How this knowledge filled her Brienne could not fathom, but it felt more natural than anything she’d ever experienced in life, as if she’d been fated to be in this camp on this night, riding this man in full view of all.

  She could sense the defeated passion of Arn as he brooded by his fire, nursing his wounds and attempting to calm his enflamed desire. The young woman had to admit to that she’d been terribly attracted to him as well, and in all honestly she’d have been fine if he had won the fight. Both men were, in their own way, well suited to pleasing her. Roland seemed to sense her drifting thoughts and growled as he pushed upward and rolled her over onto her back as he pulled out. Brienne responded by arching her back and pushing her bottom up towards him, inviting him to take her from behind while regaining control of their coupling. Roland was only too happy to ram his cock into her even as he looped one of his arms through both of hers and used his other to grip a fistful of her hair. The alpha shifter pulled her head back as he kept pressure on her arms, all the while thrusting hard into her young tight body. Brienne was forced to arch her back deeply to cope with the shifter’s animal intensity.

  Never in her life had Brienne been fucked so roughly, in such a primal way, and she found it positively exalting. Her cries of pleasure were louder than Roland’s snarls of desire and soon both of them were pouring sweat from the exertion of so vigorously coupling. After what seemed like a pleasant eternity of body rocking intercourse Brienne could feel the shifter begin to quake with the beginnings of his orgasm. She had been riding the edge of climax herself, and when she felt Roland’s body seize up and the howl grow in the back of his throat the young woman couldn’t hold back any longer.

  The night erupted with their simultaneous screams as the shifter and young woman climaxed together under the moon’s silver light, uninhibited and boldly displayed for the world to bear witness. It was only when Roland finally bent over her and planted an upside down kiss on her upturned lips that Brienne remembered she was ovulating. The shifter had just filled her with more seed than she thought a man could contain in a single load, and her wildly expanded aware
ness could see the energy patterns that were even now swirling across her mid-section. The two of them collapsed in a naked heap and lay in each other’s arms in the cool green grass as the assembled shifters went back to their party.

  As the two of them lay there Arn and his pack pulled up stake and gunned the engines of their motorcycles to life. A few of them said their farewells and within a few minutes the roar of their bikes faded into the humid Georgia night. Brienne could hear the other two girls talking in hushed tones, and soon the shifter called Womack and another hefted the very drunk girls onto their bikes. By dawn they’d be back in their dorm rooms with serious hangovers and a grand tale to tell, which somehow Brienne knew they wouldn’t, given that while she lay in Roland’s arms she saw that both of them had been rather unfaithful to their boyfriends with more than a few of the feral and alluring shifters.

  After what could only have been a few hours of sleep Brienne awoke as the dawn light crept over the trees, bathing she and Roland’s still naked bodies in a soft orange light. The mental fog of the mead had faded from her system, though her awareness of the energy patterns swirling about the world had not, in fact they seemed to have become even more potent.

  “I can see things now, energies that I couldn’t before, and somehow I know they were always there, and I think maybe I could always see them, I just didn’t know it,” whispered Brienne as she ran a finger delicately up and down Roland’s muscular chest, “Something changed the moment I knew you were werewolves, or shifters I guess. I have to admit though I’d be more scared and worried I was crazy if I couldn’t see all the energy.”

  “I’ve heard stories that say the visions will become increasingly acute, to the point you’ll have to learn a few tricks as to how to filter it out sometimes. See when a human mates with a shifter, regardless of the genders of the two, the human has a significant chance of becoming a druid,” answered Roland before brushing the hair out of Brienne’s face to give him a full view of her eyes, “At least that’s what most of us call your kind, the name fits I think. There is power in our bond, and trust me it doesn’t happen very often.”

  “After how easily you and your boys carried off three college girls from someone else’s party you can’t expect me to believe that shifters don’t mate with humans all the freaking time,” Brienne scoffed, and then playfully moved her hand down to cup Roland’s package, “No matter how awesome it was, and is about to be. I’m not done with you yet mister.”

  “Fucking and being mates are totally different things,” growled Roland as his member began to rise to the occasion, “You see the knotwork of the world now that we are together, and I can smell the changes in your scent, in my own. We are mates, that goes deeper than any sexual encounter. Crazy shit like this happens with our kind, life is fast and hard, so we love just the same.”

  “If I didn’t see and feel what I do I’d say that’s just a cheap line to get me in the sack again,” said Brienne as she began to work his shaft into its full hardness, “But the damage is done, and that is the fucking crazy part.”

  “Damage?” asked Roland before he gasped pleasantly as Brienne crawled on top of him and guided his cock into her wet core.

  “In case you forgot wolf, we went at it hard last night, and without protection,” Brienne breathed in his ear as the two of them began thrusting against each other in the growing light of morning, “Something has already taken root.”

  Roland said nothing to that other than to snarl and use his arms to grip her waist and roll her over onto her back so that he could drive himself into her with more force.

  “Yes wolf, I can see her growing inside me. I’m only nineteen, this should be something I’d freak out about, but I love her already,” moaned Brienne as her mate pounded her with increasing intensity.

  “Life just keeps getting weirder and weirder, and I don’t want it to ever stop,” said Brienne before she cried out in pleasure, “But you’re going to have to earn it alpha. Howl.”

  The shifter responded with a growl and thrust himself even deeper into his new mate.

  ACT II

  Brienne took a slow and deliberate deep breath and then exhaled it with intent. She was sitting up on her bed and in the process of giving birth. The druid woman was determined not to become the screaming cliché that one usually saw on television. No, she had every intention to deliver this magical child in the natural way, in the wolf way. In the large room every member of Roland’s pack was present, and in her nine months with the shifters she had grown to care for all of them.

  They were a pragmatic people, deeply shaped by their life in the motorcycle club culture, and yet their wolf shifter natures shone through in all that they did, said, and thought. The druid pushed again and Iri looked up at Brienne with a smile as the baby began to emerge. Another breath and a push and the child wailed as she was brought into the world. Iri held the child to Brienne and the druid clutched the baby to her breast.

  “We will now tell you, little Soren, the tale of your people,” whispered Brienne as she used a small towel and water to clean her baby while it nursed at her nipple, “It is your heritage, and has been spoken to the wolves of this world since the beginning.”

  For the next several hours each of the pack members told their life’s story to the child, reinforcing their bonds with one another, and giving themselves to the baby who would grow to be one of them.

  ACT III

  It had been four years since she’d been taken by the alpha shifter, and in that time Brienne had discovered she possessed powers of her own, far beyond the simple miracles of being a maiden to his desire and a mother to their child. She was a druid, one of the rare humans who manifested deep earth magic once mated to a shifter. There were only stories to guide her in mastering her powers, as it had been many years since a druid had walked among the shifter packs. She had worked hard to harness her abilities, and though they had borne fruit, the magic of the druids was at once a delicate and implacable thing.

  Being the alpha’s mate was not all passionate sex and loving child rearing, though of that there was plenty, but Brienne also had pack politics to concern herself with. Their loose knit society was only bound by the control of the alphas over their packs, and no alpha was as strong alone as one with a druid mate at his or her side. The shifters called her the wolfmother, after a mythological figure from their tribe’s ancient past. Brienne assumed the role as best she could, solving disputes and issues with words and nurturing when she could, and leaving the violence to Roland when she couldn’t. So it was that Brienne found herself serving beers to Arn and his pack, who had arrived the day before, and tension was mounting the moment they arrived.

  That was before the bloody insanity of the firefight…

  Now she ran.

  She knew that the wolf was deliberately slowing its pace so that she could keep up, and though it stung her pride, his presence was reassuring considering the foes that were stalking them. The blood on her face ran down into her eyes as she sweat from the exertion and the druid struggled to keep up as she used one arm to wipe her vision clear.

  A deep howl carried through the misty laden forest and suddenly turned to a yelp of pain as several shots rang out in the night. Brienne came to a halt and leaned against a nearby tree to catch her breath as the wolf halted to sniff the air. She dared not speak to him, for fear that one of the hunters who pursued them would take notice. They had attacked so quickly and mercilessly that neither Arn’s pack nor Roland’s were ready for the death that came crashing through the doors.

  Brienne had been in the main clubhouse with the rest of the two werewolf biker gangs, playing the part of the gracious host. Arn’s pack had arrived the day before, making a stop to pay their respects to Roland and Brienne. Brienne had learned that the shifters were at their core a nomadic tribe, most of them simply living on the road while the occasional pack, like Roland’s, planted shallow roots in one place or another for a few years before moving on. Partly this was out of
a sense of pragmatism, as they were not only supernatural creatures that wished to remain only myth and legend to the mundane world of humanity, but also they were bikers.

  Whereas Roland and his pack made their livings mostly as mechanics and custom bike builders, most of the other packs were part of the ‘one percenter’ motorcycle criminal culture. The outlaw life was well suited to shifters, as it turned out, the modern incarnation of wandering gypsy caravans and mercenary companies. Arn’s pack was a textbook example of that lifestyle, as they typically made their living smuggling various contraband. Brienne had to hand it to them, when Arn explained their business, it was a good racket and had an acceptable risk and reward relationship.

  The main pack itself lived the outlaw life in broad daylight, and while the local authorities paid attention to the gang other members would drive non-descript sedans to haul contraband to and fro. They were never out of each other’s sight, though any highway officer or checkpoint staffer would be so fixated on the big scary biker gang that the sedan would slip right through. Roland did not approve of any of it, though he had his own pack to worry about, so kept his opinions behind closed doors.

  When Arn had first arrived he and his pack claimed that they wanted to pay respect to the new parents and their shifter daughter, Soren, as she was a beacon of hope for many packs out there on the open road. Shifters could not breed with each other, and had to take human mates. Even then, most shifters and humans found it extremely difficult to conceive, as such Brienne and Roland’s daughter was quite the miracle. On the second day Arn asked for some custom work on his bike, which was a mixed message as far as Brienne could tell. In one sense, it was a token of respect that he wanted Roland to modify his bike, trusting the other alpha to take good care of his ride. On the other, according to Roland, it was an excuse to stick around longer.