Alpha's Strength

  All joviality fled Alexei’s features. His eyes turned feral, a wolf in human form. She shuddered and took a step backward. Betsy never wanted to find herself on the other side of that gaze. She turned to Cyrus, instinct pointing to him as the safe harbor in the room. What would he do if Alexei refused to leave?

  “I don’t know how you can have a positive relationship with that poser. He has no business being Alpha. He runs Philadelphia like it’s a democracy.”

  Again, Cyrus only shook his head. “There are ranges between democracy and autocracy. You know what Lucian taught us. To each his own. If it works for Travis, I have no comment. I don’t want war, not again.”

  She squirmed in her seat. Cyrus rubbed at his cheek, and she wondered if his scar had come from some sort of battle. Betsy sighed. It was hard enough navigating human politics. What kinds of things did wolves do to each other, and why did the idea of watching Cyrus in battle make her so hot and bothered?

  She really needed to have her head examined.

  “I’ll leave, but only because I need you to give me what I want tomorrow. I need you to help me find them. Pissing you off tonight is only going to make you more obnoxious.” Who was Alexei trying to convince? Cyrus or himself?

  For his part, Cyrus raised an eyebrow. “You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.”

  Alexei nodded and stalked from the room. A few seconds later, the elevator dinged. She sniffed the air to see if she could confirm his departure, but his scent remained too prevalent in the room to determine if Alexei was there or not. Maybe others could tell, but her skills weren’t there yet. Processing what had happened would have to wait—she needed to survive all these changes and freak out about them later.

  “Cyrus.” She needed to say something about how he had kept her parents’ illegal activities to himself. His protection of her family deserved recognition.

  “Not yet, princess.” Cyrus cut her off.

  Lake looked left and right. “What is going on? Is someone going to fill me in? I only know the smallest amount.”

  “Not yet to you too, sister.” Cyrus walked to his desk. His face gave her no indication of his mood; neither did his scent. The man who’d consumed her thoughts since they’d met retreated behind an unreadable mask.

  She didn’t like the feeling. It made her want to claw at something—to howl. Instead, she cleared her throat. “When can we talk about it?”

  “Later.” He didn’t look up when he addressed her, and the sound of the elevator dinging again caught her attention. She didn’t like Cyrus ignoring her—how he avoided her as though she wasn’t in the room. Whoever was getting off that elevator—Travis, he’d called him—had thrown him.

  She sniffed the air. He was regrouping. How did she know that so clearly?

  Because he was just…perfection to her. She bit her lip. How was she going to survive if they ever slept together? Hell, if he affected her this way and she’d never seen him naked… She swallowed hard. What would happen when she did? And why was she thinking when—shouldn’t it be if?

  A couple entered the room and Betsy transferred her attention to them. The man was tall with brown hair and dark eyes. His arms, where they were visible, showed ink. He had a stern visage, his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw line hard. His smell spoke of Alpha, the same way Cyrus’s and Alexei’s did. Power tasted like fire in her mouth. It demanded attention.

  She shifted her gaze to his companion and sucked in her breath. The woman she regarded must have noticed her at the same time because she had a similar reaction, covering her mouth with her hand. They stared silently for a moment. Or maybe it was longer than that. Time ceased to have any particular meaning when she gazed at the impossible—her mirror image in living, breathing, and smelling-of-wolf form.

  Tears pooled and then fell from her eyes. Betsy had known this person before, had dreamed about her, asked after her, and mourned her when her parents had told her, eventually, that her twin sister had passed from the earth. It had seemed excessive to weep as she had, considering she’d never really known her sister. Yet, she had. They’d shared a womb, and Betsy had felt her absence like a wound that festered and wouldn’t heal no matter how many salves she put on it.

  Her twin pointed at her. “I knew you were somewhere…” The other woman’s voice hitched. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  Tears slid from Betsy’s eyes. “Me too.” Her voice sounded hoarse.

  The other woman walked toward her slowly. “How did this happen? How did Cyrus find you?”

  The other male in the room growled. “Cyrus, I think you’d better explain yourself.”

  “Gladly. But later. Why don’t we let our mates catch up?”

  “Mates? As in you have one too?”

  Betsy tuned out the rest of what they said. They could growl, hiss, or pee on each other for all she cared at that moment. Her world had become solely focused on the woman who shared her face. Well, almost shared it. On closer inspection, it appeared as though her twin sister had not been cursed with the abundance of freckles across her nose that Betsy had to live with. She hated the way they appeared. Yes, it was settled; her sister was gorgeous. Much prettier than Betsy, and it didn’t bother her. She was so darn glad to see her.

  Cyrus had promised he’d bring her twin to her. And he’d delivered.

  “Well.” The woman laughed, taking her hand. “Are you going to tell me? How did he find you?”

  Betsy laughed. “In a coffee shop.”

  “Really?” The woman she’d been waiting to find raised a blonde eyebrow. “I need to hear this story. I’m Lilliana, by the way.”

  She knew the name. Cyrus had said it several times, particularly in the first few minutes when he’d thought that was who she was. “I’m Betsy.” She smiled. “It’s so lovely to finally find you.”

  Lilliana’s arms came around her, pulling her into a tight embrace.

  Betsy sniffed. “Oh thank goodness you’re a hugger too. I didn’t want to weird you out by grabbing you if you didn’t like it.”

  Her sister laughed. “If you didn’t like hugging, I was going to force you to embrace me anyway. I knew you existed. I just did.”

  Betsy closed her eyes. This was a small miracle in the midst of a hellish day.

  ****

  It amazed Betsy how fast Cyrus could get things done. Someone, maybe Lilliana’s mate, Travis, had suggested food, and the next thing she knew they were all seated in a conference room with people delivering a huge meal. Was it having money that made this happen or being the Alpha of Manhattan? Maybe both?

  A woman entered the room, smiling at all of them. She smelled like roses, and she carried another plate of food. How many sandwiches did Cyrus think they needed?

  “I’ll set this down.” The woman with brown hair grinned at her. “Do you need anything else? I can go get anything you need.”

  It took Betsy a moment to realize she spoke to her. “Oh no, we’re fine.”

  “Wonderful. I’m Kyra, by the way.”

  “Hi, I’m Betsy.”

  “I know.”

  The other woman did something Betsy did not anticipate, crossing to her quickly to give her a hug. Betsy wasn’t used to being embraced, particularly by people she didn’t know. Jensen had done it earlier and it had freaked her out, and consequently stayed stiff as a board through the whole thing. Her discomfort didn’t seem to bother the other woman, though.

  Finally, Kyra let go and stepped back. “It’s wonderful to have you, Betsy.”

  With that wonderfully weird exchange, Kyra left the room. Betsy turned to look at Travis and Lilliana, they both ate their food like nothing strange had happened. Why would they have thought it odd? She was the only fish out of water in the room, the only one struggling to find her way in her constantly shifting world.

  Cyrus had stepped out. She had no idea what for. He hadn’t told her. In fact, he hadn’t regarded her very much since Alexei had left. What was that about? Her skin itched, and she wante
d to claw at the table. Had she done something wrong?

  It couldn’t be Travis. He and Cyrus had been downright cordial in comparison to how he’d reacted to Alexei.

  “Where were you living before today?”

  Betsy turned her attention to Travis, who was eating a bag of potato chips as though he had no cares in the world. It had to be an act. He was an Alpha like Cyrus. Even if she didn’t fully understand it, her nose knew the difference between pretending to be calm and actually being that way.

  “Brooklyn. In a brownstone.” She drummed her fingers on the table trying to do something with her nervous energy. Where had Cyrus gone?

  “Well, that must have cost a pretty penny.”

  Lilliana elbowed her mate. “It’s not polite to talk about money. Don’t mind him. Werewolves never have a clue on niceties like that.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind. I don’t know what it cost. Nathan handled all of that. He told me where to go, and that’s what I did.” She picked up her water and took a sip. Had it suddenly gotten hot it the room?

  “Nathan?” He crunched his chip. “Who’s that?”

  Lilliana growled. “Stop interrogating my sister.”

  “We’ve just met her. I’m trying to get a sense of her history, my love. I’m not interrogating her. I’m asking questions so she can tell me about herself.” He crunched again and his gaze didn’t waver from her. So much for thinking he lacked intensity.

  “Nathan is the human”— she squirmed when she used the word. When had she started adopting the language of werewolves?—“who has been blackmailing me for some time. I suppose that is going to stop now that Cyrus has him locked up in the basement.”

  Travis jumped to his feet. She could smell the surge of adrenaline in the room. “Cyrus has a human in the basement? And he didn’t think to share that news?”

  “Oh, sit down, Travis.” Cyrus reentered the room. He’d taken off his tie, and his collar hung open. He’d decided to get comfortable? Why? “We’ll get to the details. You need to know them too. Oh good, it smells like they got the chicken I ordered correct. Last time there was too much garlic.”

  He grinned, and it took Betsy a moment to realize he’d made a joke. Or attempted to. “Isn’t garlic a vampire thing?”

  Travis clapped his hands slowly before sinking back down in his seat. “Look who’s trying to be amusing.”

  Cyrus’ smile fled, and she missed it. If it wouldn’t have been weird, she would have reached out and tried to smooth the lines away from his eyes.

  “You have a human locked in the basement?” Travis continued speaking, this time with one eyebrow raised.

  “Yes. Don’t you? We should all have at least one human locked in our basement at all times, don’t you think?”

  “Why do you have this man locked up?” Travis played with a strand of Lilliana’s hair. “I’m sure there had to be another way to get your mate’s attention without kidnapping her boyfriend, lover, or husband.”

  “Oh, he’s not any of those things.” Betsy spooned some rice, anything to handle her nervous energy. Travis would be great at interrogating prisoners. She might confess her every sin to him, if he asked. What was it? His tone? His eye contact? Were all male wolves like this? “He was going to be my husband because he’s holding my parents hostage. I had no choice.”

  “I think you’d better start from the beginning, Cyrus.” All the humor fled Travis’s voice and he leaned forward.

  Cyrus sat down next to her. “I would have told you this already, but all you wanted to talk about was Alexei’s scent permeating the room.”

  “I think I have the right to know why the Alpha I’m in a non-aggressive treaty with is entertaining my worst enemy.”

  “Someday you’re going to have to get over what happened that summer.” Cyrus waved his hand in the air. “You’re both powerful werewolves, and Lucian never held it against either of you.”

  There was a story in there somewhere. But, since Betsy could barely follow who was who at this point, she didn’t want to ask. It would make things more confusing, and there was enough of that in her life at that moment.

  Lilliana interrupted. “Back to the point. Locked human in the basement. Blackmail. How you came to be mated to my sister that, up until today, I thought I’d made up in my head.”

  “I can’t believe you never mentioned you thought you had one.” Travis eyed her sideways.

  “Would you go around advertising someone who may or may not be your imaginary friend?” Lilliana rolled her eyes. “Cyrus, a little illumination please.”

  “I met Betsy in a Starbucks. As she told you, I thought she was you until I realized her scent was different and she had the gorgeous freckles over her nose.”

  Betsy’s cheeks heated up. He thought her spots attractive? He didn’t find them grotesque? She stared down at the table. How could that be?

  “Why didn’t you call me immediately?” Travis leaned forward. “Why did it take you hours? As it is, if I hadn’t been in Jersey, it would have taken twice as long to get here.”

  “Because I had scented my mate for the first time and decided it was more important to ensure her safety and well-being than to inform you about something that I was still unclear about. Speaking of which…” He turned to Betsy. The force of his regard took her breath away. He hadn’t looked at her in hours, and now she felt as though she couldn’t take deep breath from the intensity of his stare.

  “Yes?” Her mouth went dry.

  “Give me the ring.”

  She had no idea what he was talking about. “The ring?”

  “Left hand. Ring finger.” He exhaled loudly. “Take it off.”

  “Is that an engagement ring?” Lilliana raised her voice in question.

  “Nathan, the guy in the basement who has been blackmailing me, insisted I wear it. He wants me to be his wife. It’s part of the deal.”

  Cyrus growled, and she narrowed her eyes at him. “Look, I don’t love the thing either or what it happens to represent, but you can’t order it off my hand. Mate or no mate or whatever, I’m not going to take it off because you command my obedience.”

  There. He hadn’t wanted her docile. He’d insisted she look him in the eyes, had been the one to point out she probably wasn’t passive. Well then, he could live with her temper and see how he liked that. She’d never been able to hold back hers, even with her parents who hadn’t liked it. Maybe it had been some werewolf thing always stored inside of her. In any case, if he couldn’t deal, he could go find himself another mate. Even if the idea of that made her stomach ache.

  When he spoke again, this time it was barely above a whisper. “Maybe you could take it off then, Betsy, to spare me the energy it takes to restrain myself from ripping it off your finger. I’d love to be able to take it, sell it, and give the money to some human charitable organization as opposed to flinging it across the room or throwing it twenty stories down into traffic. In that case, though, I guess we’d get to find out if it’s a real diamond or some cheap knock-off. Want to give that a go?”

  Her heart rate had picked up during his little speech, and she noted her sister and Travis had fallen silent as well. Would Cyrus actually rip it off her finger? She swallowed, not wanting to find out. Her panties soaked. Oh boy. She didn’t want to deal with why that happened. . He wouldn’t hurt her. She knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt. If he’d wanted to do that, he could have done so in the brownstone. She tugged at the ring, and it slipped off her finger easily. It had never fit perfectly, which had always seemed sort of apropos somehow.

  “Here.” She handed it to him, and he exhaled a breath loudly.

  “Thank you.”

  “Yep.” She nodded, looking away. “Maybe you should finish up telling them what happened and how Nathan ended up in the basement. I have a headache. I want to go home.”

  Cyrus stood up. “I’ll have Mitchell take you.”

  She nodded and tried to ignore the sting of his easy acquiescence. He really m
ust not want her to stay. She tried to be reasonable. It would be too much to expect him to take him herself. He was Alpha. There were things for him to do, plans for him to make in regards to her parents, especially now that it seemed to directly concern him. He’d not spoken to her in hours except to order her ring from her finger—Cyrus had made his feelings toward her very clear since they’d arrived in the building. He wanted her out of the way where he didn’t have to worry about her.

  Lilliana stood up. “I’ll walk you out.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled, still not looking at Cyrus. Her head really was pounding, or she would never leave her newfound sister. She hoped she didn’t have to go too long without seeing her again.

  They walked a distance into the hall, and Lilliana pushed the button for the elevator. Her sister held up her hand to her own mouth indicating she wanted her to be quiet. They entered the device and were halfway down before Lilliana spoke.

  “You don’t have to stay here with him if he’s awful to you.”

  Betsy touched her head, wishing she could rub away the ache. “What?”

  “We can take you back to Philadelphia. I mean, Travis has a treaty with Cyrus, and I’m sure it would be breaking some clause of it to do that, but there is no way I’m going to allow my sister to be abused—arrangement or no arrangement.”

  “Abused?” It took Betsy a full thirty seconds to realize what Lilliana meant. “Cyrus? Oh, he’s not abusing me. If anything, he saved me from that.”

  “Betsy, he threatened to rip the ring off your finger.”

  “He wouldn’t have done that.” She believed that despite all the turmoil. “He wanted to. He’d thought about it. But he never would have touched me.”

  “How do you know?”

  Betsy smiled. She’d been a wolf for only a couple of hours, but she’d picked something up her sister hadn’t? “Because underneath his bluster, I smelled something else.”

  “What was that?”

  “Fear.” They stepped out of the elevator together. “Cyrus actually asked me to take it off so he didn’t have to think about it anymore. There was a difference.”