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  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2017 Evernight Publishing

  ISBN: 978-1-77339-236-3

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Audrey Bobak

  Proofreader: CA Clauson

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  OWNED BY THE ALPHA

  12 Author Dark Paranormal Anthology

  The Alpha lives for the hunt...

  Driven by instinct, an Alpha shifter recognizes his fated mate from one scent, one touch. He'll pursue his woman, regardless of the cost, and anyone else would be smart to get out of his way. He won't stop until he takes possession of his prize.

  Although the hunter doesn't need convincing, his mate certainly does. The Alpha will have to prove himself as a lover and convince his woman that he plays for keeps.

  Table of Contents

  Scent of Destiny by Rose Wulf

  Taken Mate by Sam Crescent

  Finders Keepers by Stacey Espino

  The Hunt by Doris O’Connor

  Alpha at Altitude by Lily Harlem

  Fated to the Razorback Demon by Maia Dylan

  Running Home by Michelle Graham

  Alpha’s Sunshine by Elyzabeth M. VaLey

  Checkmate by Wren Michaels

  Frozen Heart by Beth D. Carter

  Wolf Hunter by Elena Kincaid

  Returning to the Coyote by Roberta Winchester

  SCENT OF DESTINY

  Rose Wulf

  Copyright © 2017

  Chapter One

  “You’d have better luck picking up a pig in a barn!”

  Willa Thompson took a deep breath and pushed the asshole’s jeering voice down in her memory. She refused to acknowledge the echo of his laughter as it rang through her mind. That infuriating, horrifying incident had been almost a week ago. She hadn’t spoken to him since. Though she had to admit she didn’t know how long she’d be able to keep it that way. The ass did work two cubicles over from her.

  I wasn’t even talking to him.

  No, she’d been on her cell in the breakroom, talking with her best friend. Stupidly thinking it was safe to quietly talk about a good-looking man she’d seen a few times in a nearby café. Asshole had picked up on a few key words in their conversation, had begun laughing, and loudly called out to her.

  Willa ground her teeth and wiped her sweaty palms on her favorite jeans. This is ridiculous. What will this even prove?

  She looked up at the flickering neon sign over the building before her. It was taunting her. Daring her to step inside, step into a world she’d only read about in novels. She’d never even set foot on this street before, and now she was about to enter an actual biker bar.

  The rumbling roar of a motorcycle engine startled Willa, pulling her gaze away from the sign and over to the parking lot she’d just crossed through. She watched as a large man in an actual leather vest parked his fiery-themed motorcycle just a few feet away. He popped a cigarette in his mouth before he even got off the bike, and she looked away. Please let there be someone more my type in this place!

  Then again, Willa thought to herself as she took her first step inside, was that even possible?

  Her brown eyes went wide as the combined scents of tobacco smoke, strong alcohol, and sweat assaulted her nose. There were bodies squeezing together everywhere. Women wearing more makeup than fabric were grinding into men, and other women, on what Willa presumed was the dance floor. All three pool tables were occupied by mostly large, leather-clad men with too many tattoos or piercings. A few had skinny females curled around them while they played.

  In fact, all the women Willa could see were significantly thinner and more culturally attractive than she herself. She swallowed, choking on an intake of breath. I knew that would happen. She hadn’t come to this bar to blend in. She’d come to prove a point. To prove to herself, if no one else, that she could, in fact, still pick up a man when she tried. Never mind the kind of man she usually sought never seemed to look twice at her anymore.

  It’s not impossible for a man to be interested in me. I’m not hideous.

  Sure, she was overweight. And she didn’t often feel particularly pretty. She wasn’t disgusting, either. She hoped.

  Willa did her best to disguise her nerves and walked straight up to the bar. Most of the tables she could see were occupied, and since she was there alone—and wanting to be noticed—she figured sitting at the bar better suited her needs. She only hoped no one saw her fumble in her attempt to situate herself on the classically round barstool.

  The scent of alcohol was, of course, stronger at the bar. But the stools on either side of her were vacant, just as she’d been counting on, and quick glances to either side assured her the people nearest her hadn’t paid her any attention. Yet. That was fine. She needed a drink before she was ready to begin her self-assigned mission, anyway. On her third attempt, she successfully waved the bartender over and ordered a rum and Coke.

  Figuring that putting her back to the majority of the people in the bar would be counterproductive to her goal, Willa took a gulp of her drink and swiveled around. Nearly slamming into a broad-shouldered mountain of a man in the process.

  “Oh!” Willa exclaimed, jumping in her seat. “I’m so sorry!” She barely noticed the chill of the drink as a few droplets sloshed over the side and onto her hand.

  The man she’d just about kneed in the groin had straightened to an impressive height and was blatantly raking his piercing emerald gaze over her. Her mouth went dry. This guy was built. Muscles bulged from beneath his black t-shirt, curving down his bare arms and disappearing beneath the belt over his black cargo pants. All that muscle and black clothing was like something out of a military movie. Combined with his thick head of shaggy black hair, Willa was absolutely not sorry to have earned this man’s attention. Not even for a moment.

  Those emerald eyes were focused on hers when a corner of his lips twitched in a brief grin. His nostrils flared with a visible breath and he said, “You’re forgiven.”

  Goosebumps raced up Willa’s arms as a delightful chill shot down her back. That grin. That voice. This was the man she wanted. This was the man who could convince her she was still a desirable female. Get real, Willa. Men like him don’t even try to remember women like you.

  “Didn’t mean to make you spill your drink,” the gorgeous stranger said, apparently oblivious to her distracted thoughts. She was working on corralling her tongue when he reached out, gently pried the glass from her hand, and set it on the bar behind her. The action brought him several inches closer. She could smell him now. His scent was surprisingly fresh for being found in a biker bar. She had to resist the urge to press her nose to his neck for a better whiff.

  The next thing she knew, he’d grasped her wrist and was using a napkin to gently wipe the spilled alcohol off her hand. Willa could feel the contained strength in the fingers loosely holding her hand in place, yet it felt as though he were barely touching her. The contrast was appealing and the contact had h
er heart beating faster.

  “Y-you really don’t have to—”

  He lifted his stare back to her eyes and words failed her. “I insist.” Had his voice really come out in a sort of deep, vibrating purr, or was her imagination kicking into overdrive?

  Willa swallowed heavily and prayed she wouldn’t stutter when she next opened her mouth. “I’m Willa, by the way.”

  Those lips lifted in another grin, this one lingering several seconds, and he deposited the napkin back onto the bar. He refrained from releasing her wrist. “Ryker,” he said.

  Ryker. It was different, but not off-the-wall kind of different. It was sexy.

  Her belly did a clumsy summersault at about the same time as she let her lips lift in a smile of her own. “Do you … come here often?”

  Oh my God, Willa. You came here to pick up a guy, yes, but you don’t have to be so cliché about it!

  Ryker’s smile returned, lasting this time. It lightened his already breathtaking eyes and eased the intensity of his features without taking away any of his heaping sex appeal. Willa doubted she’d ever even spoken to a man this mouthwatering before. And she likely never would again, either.

  “Not often enough,” he said, a trace of amusement in his deep, rumbling voice. He gave a tug of her wrist and added, “Come sit with me. The bar’s no place for a beautiful woman.”

  Willa was sure her expression gave away her shock. Had he just asked her to sit with him? Had he just said she was beautiful? Surely this was some sort of joke. Did he have a hidden camera on him? Or maybe he had some friends egging him on, daring him to flirt with the lonely woman at the bar until she figured him out?

  “I … would love to,” she said, despite her fear. She didn’t really see how this was anything more than a drunken bet or a prank, but she had to test it. Just in case. There was always the chance that he’d been drawn in by her deliberately paired siren-red nails and lips. A choice she was extra glad she’d made now, as the red so deliciously complemented the green of his eyes.

  He grinned and helped her off the stool, releasing her wrist only in favor of resting his palm at the small of her back. The heat from his touch seared through her as if she were naked. Willa gulped and clung to her glass, her purse slung over her opposite shoulder. It would not do at all to be daydreaming about getting naked with a man this godly when she suspected she was being pranked.

  Ryker led her to a table near the back, just behind a rowdy group of twenty-somethings. He guided her to the farther bench, slid in, and tugged her down beside him.

  Her heartbeat doubled.

  Chapter Two

  Ryker knew the stories. He’d heard similar tales often in his childhood, passed down from previous generations. His mother had always told him that one day he would meet a woman he couldn’t walk away from. When he’d asked how she could know such a thing, how he would know if it ever happened, she’d merely said that he’d know.

  Damned if his mother hadn’t been right.

  All he’d wanted was a drink when he’d made his way up to the bar. The scent of the attractive, respectfully-dressed woman sitting front and center had barely reached his nose over the usual stench that accumulated in a biker bar at night. But the moment it did, the moment he processed that amazingly alluring smell, he’d froze. Right up until she’d turned around and damned near kneed his suddenly straining erection.

  At first Ryker told himself it’d just been too long since he’d bedded a woman. Especially a woman with real curves. He tried convincing himself he simply needed a good lay and he’d forget all about this luscious female he was practically fucking drooling over. But by the time he’d escorted her to the table he usually claimed when he drank here, there was no denying it. Never in his long life had he wanted a woman so powerfully.

  All he really knew about her, aside from her destiny, was her first name. He needed to take the time to learn more.

  It was hard to focus, though, when his instincts begged him to pull her into his lap and bury his aching cock inside her. Public, clothes, and decency be damned.

  Doing his best to keep his focus away from that temptation, Ryker refrained from draping his arm around Willa’s shoulders and leaned into the wall for easier conversation. “You don’t strike me as the kind of woman who spends a lot of time in dives like this.”

  Willa wrapped both hands around her glass, the siren-red nail polish reflecting off the fluorescent lighting overhead. He could hear her heart racing and he watched her chest rise with a deep breath. “To be honest,” she said, her voice wavering for the first few syllables, “this is my first time here.”

  Ryker smirked. Lucky me. “What inspired you?”

  She turned a sweet smile to him and his breath caught in his chest. “Thought I’d try something new.”

  His eyes narrowed the moment she looked away again. She’s lying. But he had to let that go. For the time being, at least. She didn’t know she was his. Curling his fingers into the vinyl of the booth behind her to keep his arm in place, Ryker asked, “Any reason?”

  Willa pulled her lip between her teeth for a long second, one finger drawing patterns in the sweat on the side of her glass. “Ah, I just realized I needed to live a little more, you know? Expand my horizons.”

  Oh, that was absolutely not her real answer. So much for hoping she’d spill with a little prodding. But he could tell from her scent that she was trying to mean what she’d said, and that perplexed him more.

  Ryker took a breath, attempting to find a reasonable response that wouldn’t send his apparently-innocent human running in terror. “Expand your horizons?” he repeated slowly. “That could mean a lot of things.”

  Her smile returned, teasing now, and he sensed a wave of determination wafting from her. “I suppose it could,” she agreed. Her gaze flicked away for a moment, toward the crowd in front of the bar, and she asked, “Do you dance?”

  Knowing perfectly well that his meaning showed in his eyes, Ryker lowered his voice a bit and said, “Not in public.”

  Her sparkling brown eyes went wide and he could make out a tinge of pink on her cheeks before she dropped her gaze to her drink. She chewed her lip as if contemplating something and proceeded to knock back the rest of her rum and Coke.

  Ryker leaned forward until his lips were barely not brushing her ear and whispered, “Relax, Willa. I only dance with a willing partner.” The desire in her scent spiked in tandem with her heart rate. It was all he could do not to let his tongue slip out and taste her skin.

  Her response was not what he anticipated.

  She turned to face him before he’d pulled back, and he was suddenly staring into her eyes. He curled his fingers harder into the vinyl and locked his muscles in place. Her full lips, coated in a shade of red that matched her nails, parted and he couldn’t stop his stare from falling to watch as they formed words.

  “Be honest with me,” she said firmly. “Is this some kind of prank?”

  Ryker’s gaze snapped back up to hers. He said nothing for a long moment as he tried to form a coherent enough thought to understand her question. Prank?

  Willa released a breath and her shoulders slouched ever-so-slightly. “Someone put you up to this, didn’t they? Dared you to flirt with me or something?”

  Was that the treatment she was used to? He didn’t know. But he did know she’d never be asking that question again. “No,” he said, his own eyes narrowed with intensity.

  She blinked up at him for a second, sighed, and said, “It’s okay. I understand. But I think I’m going to go now.”

  Releasing a growl on a harsh exhale, Ryker released his death-grip on the vinyl, buried his hand beneath her wavy, deep-red hair and hauled her lips up to his. He kept his free hand fisted on the table top to minimize temptation and stroked her lips with his tongue. A soft, whimpered sound bubbled up her throat, and her lips parted. He wasted no time sweeping his tongue inside, letting the taste of her wash over him. It was hard not to growl into the kiss. Harder
still not to pull her body flush against his. But he kept his lips to hers, kept one hand in her hair and the other off her entirely. He was making a point, not just seeking satisfaction.

  Her hands had landed on his chest, just beneath his shoulders, as soon as he’d kissed her. By the time his tongue was mapping out her sweet mouth, her fingers were curled in his shirt. Holding on.

  He released her from his kiss with foreign reluctance and eased back just enough to give her room to breathe. The hand in her hair slid down to the nape of her neck. “Willa,” he said, his voice rough. “Make no mistake. I want you. No one’s put me up to this. No one had to.”

  She was still taking heaving breaths as the shock settled on her face. The disbelief was obvious in her eyes when she quietly asked, “You … want me?”

  Ryker grinned and brushed the side of her throat with his thumb. “Badly.” He suspected if he were too honest too soon, she’d flee, so he opted to leave it at that.

  Willa broke from his stare and looked him over as if for the first time. He held still, letting her absorb his words. Confusion and desire vied for dominance in her scent. He really wanted to ask why—why she would possibly be so shocked to be wanted. But he held himself in check, just this once.

  Her tongue darted out, trailing slowly over her smeared lipstick as she lifted her gaze back to his. “Can we ditch this place?”

  Chapter Three

  Willa could barely catch her breath as Ryker kissed her. Never, in all her thirty-two years, had she been kissed like this.

  Her back was pressed against a wall just inside wherever it was Ryker had taken her, and his tongue was stroking hers sensuously. She curled her arms around his shoulders as he leaned down and slipped both hands beneath her ass. With not nearly enough effort, he lifted her and pressed her properly on the wall. She let her legs wind around his hips and gasped at the pressure of a hardened cock against her inner thigh.