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  Copyright© 2018 Evernight Publishing

  ISBN: 978-1-77339-825-9

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Audrey Bobak

  Proofreader: Laurie White

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  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.

  DENYING THE ALPHA

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Caleb by Loralynne Summers

  Crossing Boundaries by Rose Wulf

  Guarding What's Hers by Kait Gamble

  The Librarian and Her Dragon by Doris O'Connor

  Eagle's Seduction by Elyzabeth M. VaLey

  Make Her Purr by Sam Crescent and Stacey Espino

  Claiming the Coyote by Roberta Winchester

  My Very Soul by Tesla Storm

  Bearly Caught by Sarah Marsh

  CALEB

  Loralynne Summers

  Chapter One

  “You can’t do this!”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “What would your father say?”

  Caleb held his hand up, hoping to silence the room without resorting to using his Alpha dominance. That last comment stung a bit, but he had expected backlash from the den, especially the older members.

  “Look, we all know that the mountain is becoming too dense. This was always in the long-term maintenance plan for the forest that our ancestors initiated when they banded together and settled here.” He said the last with a pointed look toward the elder who’d spoken out last. “We need to clear out some trees, make more room for cabins. The den is growing beyond the handful of families we started with years ago. And we need money. This kills two birds with one stone. We get a percentage of the logging sales, which will offset the costs of building, and we can expand the tourist lodging, increasing our bottom-line revenue. Unless some of you want to move off the mountain and get jobs in the city?”

  A few of the younger members laughed lightly. Caleb gave a heavy sigh.

  “Listen. This has to happen. It’s going to happen. Anyone who wishes to permanently relocate higher up the mountain, I’ll help you build your new cabin with none of the power or running water or communication that you all have come to enjoy. But you can’t stop the inevitable. Developments are slowly being built closer and closer to the mountain. Either we keep the humans where we want them, or we run out of room and places to shift. And keeping them at bay requires money.”

  There were grumbles, but nobody decided to talk back to him this time.

  “You all had a chance to help me with this, you knew it was coming. After some research conducted by Ryan and myself, I’ve been in negotiations with Connors Logging. They’ll be here in two weeks to start. I’ll be marking areas for clear-cutting and thinning. You’re all being given a map that shows these areas so there will be no confusion. Anyone caught in bear form within a hundred yards of the work zones is in for serious shit with me. Shifting is restricted to the top half of the mountain while the loggers are here.”

  He moved for the door and grabbed the handful of maps from Ryan, who served as his right-hand man. Caleb was personally going to make sure that each family received one, so nobody could try to feign ignorance later on. The elders didn’t shift as often anymore but were rather set in their ways, and there were a few that could potentially cause trouble and try to give the loggers a scare, despite his decree.

  What he didn’t tell the den was that he’d selected this company specifically because of their relationship with shifters—the owner, and at least some of the employees, were aware of shifters or even shifters themselves. They’d been recommended from another den in a neighboring county. Likely as not, any antics his bears might get up to would not have the effect they’d hope for.

  “Well, that went about as expected,” Ryan commented as the last member left the lobby of the visitor’s center. It was the only room large enough to hold them all now. One of the buildings that Caleb intended to add was a meeting hall, which could also serve as a place to hold small weddings to increase income.

  “Tell me about it,” he grumbled. “The elders hate change. They’re used to being more solitary. It’s how they grew up. Having so many bears in a relatively small territory is still new to them, even if it’s been several decades. We grew up with it, but we’re still ironing out the kinks. The world is shrinking. If we don’t find a way to keep our woods, we won’t have any.”

  Ryan grasped his shoulder. “My grandfather and the others are stubborn, but everyone knows the mountain needs maintenance. And they did agree to follow you when your father died and you showed the same dominant power, instead of voting for a different leader. I know it feels weird to use the terms that wolves do, but you are our Alpha. They’ll come around. You’ll see.”

  ****

  “I’m looking for George,” Caleb said to a man climbing down from a truck.

  “At the front,” he said, jerking his head.

  “Thanks.” Caleb worked his way among the men and the equipment being unloaded along the access road. He was rather impressed. George’s email had said they’d be here to start at seven-thirty AM and Caleb hadn’t expected the crew to arrive at seven. Apparently, he intended to have his crew actually in the trucks and on the trees at seven-thirty.

  As he reached the lead flatbed, he saw a decidedly feminine silhouette and paused. Though dressed in work boots, heavy jeans, and a yellow vest over her sweatshirt, there was no way that ass was a man’s. The pink—pink!—work gloves hanging out of a back pocket were also a bit of a dead giveaway. He wondered briefly if she was an inspector, here to double- and triple-check the paperwork that he’d already checked a hundred times over.

  “God damn it, Peterson, if I have to fucking climb up there and unhook that fucking skidder for you I’m going to fucking beat your skinny little ass with your own prick. What’s the fucking holdup?”

  Caleb blinked at the slew of profanity spewing forth from her and nearly choked on his coffee.

  A young man poked his head out of the window of the vehicle, a grin on his face.

  “Sorry, George. I forgot to release one of the tie-downs. Coming down now.”

  Caleb’s brows drew together as the woman laughed.

  “I know I dragged you from your beauty sleep, little brother, but seriously, thanks for jumping in to help out at the last minute.”

  The guy in the cab—Peterson—flashed a thumbs-up as the engine roared to life and he expertly backed the large machine down off the flatbed in the blink of an eye, though he looked barely old enough to shave.

  Caleb cleared his throat, and the woman turned around.

  “Oh! Hey, sorry, didn’t see you there. How can I help you?”

  “I’m Caleb Michonne. I’m looking for George.”

  “Well, you found her.”

  “You’re … George … Connors?” The words came out slowly in his confusion.

  “The one and only,” she answered, a defiant look in her eyes.

  “And thank God for that. Her name really is Georgia, by th
e way, but she won't answer to it,” Peterson said as he walked by.

  She spun, throwing a playful jab at her brother, who had already dodged out of reach.

  “Pete, I swear to Christ I’m going to leave you on this mountain to get eaten by a bear!”

  “Oooh, you promise? You know I love me a big hairy Daddy bear.”

  Pete winked at Caleb before heading off to join the rest of the men donning work gloves and safety gear. Flustered, Caleb returned his attention to George, who stood with her hands on her hips and a look of silent challenge on her face.

  “I’ve been climbing trees and running this equipment since I was tall enough—” she began, but he held his hand up and shook his head. Her eyes narrowed, but she stopped talking.

  “There’s no need for explanations. If you’re the person I’ve been emailing the past few days, that’s all I need to know. In this business, you wouldn’t be in your position if you weren’t capable.”

  She held his gaze a moment before taking a deep breath and giving a slight nod.

  “Good. Now let’s go over the map. I know you walked the property with my dad and I meant to come out here in person sooner, but with him getting laid up last week, my brothers and I have been running around like crazy. I do apologize for that.”

  Her demeanor quickly became professional as they reconfirmed which areas would be cleared and which thinned. They walked toward the small motorhome that served as a mobile office. One of her emails had explained the necessity of needing room for it. Due to the location and terrain, the equipment she traveled with provided her up-to-the-minute weather and satellite information, allowing them to wring every minute of work possible out of the day in the event of a questionable forecast.

  As George powered up the laptop on the counter, he studied her, trying to figure her out. She still projected an air of combativeness, her stance one of tension, as if she were permanently in the “fight” mode of “fight or flight.”

  Of course she is, he thought to himself. She’s a young woman in a field dominated by men. How many clients have dismissed her simply because of what’s between her legs? Would they treat her the same if she wasn’t so fucking gorgeous? While she may not meet the guidelines of runway model looks, George was magnificent as far as Caleb was concerned. Golden-brown hair was pinned neatly in some sort of fancy twist thing on the back of her head. He didn’t know what to call it but it looked oddly elegant in contrast to her chosen profession. He’d have expected her to have short hair. Her height rivaled his own—the top of her head was nearly at his nose, and he stood six-foot-four. Though clad in work clothes and a loose sweatshirt, she had a clearly muscular build and broad shoulders.

  Now that they were inside, away from all the other crew members and machinery, her scent hit him like a sledgehammer. His pulse quickened as he inhaled deeply, the smell of earth and pine and fresh air mixed with a musky undertone and a hint of strawberry—shampoo perhaps?—to make one delicious and tantalizing smell that was all her.

  And it told him that she was his.

  The one he’d been looking for.

  His mate.

  “Can I help you with something?” she snapped, glaring at him.

  Crap. He’d been caught staring. He swallowed, brain scrambling to backpedal and be polite, be human, not an animal that was only interested in one thing at the moment.

  “Apologies. I was only trying to figure out why you look the way you do.”

  “I wear makeup and do my hair in ways that won’t offend men’s sensitive egos and upset them,” she said with a sigh.

  “I … what?” That wasn’t what he’d meant at all, though he was, in fact, curious about those things as well.

  “Men expect women to look and act a certain way. I may only be twenty-nine, but I learned quickly that no amount of knowledge or skill outweighs placating men’s egos. Contract negotiations and meetings always go better when I look more … acceptable.”

  Caleb scoffed. “Well, that’s a load of shit. Anyone who spends five minutes listening to you would see the stupidity behind that mindset. And I meant your … stature. Your build and your scent are … but your brother is … so small.” He didn’t normally trip over his words like this, but seeing as she was already on the defensive, he was afraid of upsetting her and getting things off to a very bad start.

  Her expression softened slightly.

  “Thank you for that. Most people only talk, they don’t listen. My mother’s side of the family carries the shifter gene, but I lost out on that particular gift. I’m just built like a brick wall without the extra benefits. Pete is my half-brother. There’s no extra genes in that pool. He’s just a skinny little Irishman.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I bet your bear would be every bit as beautiful as you.” It was a cheesy line, he knew it the moment the words left his mouth. Regardless, her breath caught and their gazes locked.

  “You actually mean that, don’t you?” she whispered.

  “Yes,” he replied softly.

  “Most people are just being polite when they say things like that.”

  “I never say anything I don’t believe is true.”

  “I believe that.”

  What he really believed was that she lied about not being a shifter. He didn’t understand how all the signs could be there, yet she implied that she’d never shifted, and as far as she was concerned, she was human.

  She didn’t smell human.

  His bear didn’t give a damn what she thought she was, as long as she was his.

  They stood side by side, staring at each other in silence as tension grew until a knock on the door made her jump. Pete stuck his head in.

  “Umm, guys? Mr. Michonne? I don’t know what’s going on, but a couple of the guys are acting weird. They’re saying you’re doing it…” He trailed off, gaze darting back and forth between Caleb and George.

  Caleb cleared his throat, his gaze returning to George. “My apologies. I shall reassure them momentarily. Ask them to wait nearby, please?” With a conscious effort, he reined in his bear. The beast was going wild inside him, wanting to claim Georgia and make her his, and making sure every bear in the vicinity knew it by sending out ridiculous amounts of dominant power. Thankfully, most of his own den was either still sleeping or too far up the mountain to be affected.

  “And apologies to you, Ms. Connors. I was out of line. I shall leave you and your crew to get to work. You have my contact information should you need anything.”

  He turned and headed out the door. He needed to haul ass to the top of the mountain and away from her before he did something he’d regret.

  ****

  Georgia blew out a heavy breath the moment the door clicked behind Caleb.

  She’d been doing fine ignoring him—she was used to men checking her out, after all—until she realized he didn’t look at her like she was a curiosity. He looked at her like a man dying of thirst might eye a glass of water. That, she didn’t know how to handle.

  “Sis? You okay?” Pete hadn’t moved far from the door, as if he were afraid to come near her.

  “Yeah, I’m good. He just threw me off, that’s all.”

  “Can’t say as I blame you. He’s an especially scrumptious specimen. I’m willing to bet he could crack a walnut with his ass.”

  “Believe me, I noticed.” She laughed.

  “And his arms are like, twice the size of my head,” Pete continued.

  “Your mom’s arms are twice the size of your head, twig-boy.” Her brother laughed but still didn’t move from the wall he leaned against. Georgia cocked her head. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m just waiting for you to be normal again.”

  “Umm, I am normal? My cousins won that roulette spin, remember?”

  “Then why are your eyes glowing?”

  “Huh?”

  She went to the bathroom and sure enough, her usually dark-brown eyes were lighter, flecked with gold, and nearly radiant. Other than being a bit flus
hed, the rest of her face seemed to be the same.

  “What the hell is that shit? I feel fine.” Georgia washed her face, cooling her heated cheeks. Checking her reflection again, she headed out to the crew while fixing her hair into a braid instead of a French twist that would never fit comfortably under her hardhat. It was time to get to work. The sooner they started, the sooner she’d be done having to deal with Mr. Off-limits-sexypants-client.

  Muscle-bound, dominant, and wanna-be-alpha men surrounded her day in and day out at work. She considered herself immune to them all at this point. Unfortunately, she needed to remind her hormones of that because she wanted to be all over him like white on rice. No matter what kind of vibes he’d been sending out, Caleb was a client. End of story.

  Georgia hadn’t gotten the full complement of special abilities, but by all accounts—and based on her own experiences and observations—minus the actual gift of shifting, she had many of the other traits. She could feel the power coming from Caleb, but knew not one bit of it had been directed toward her, as if he didn’t dare try to influence her. It felt more like he was warning others away, a territorial display.

  She’d seen it happen before with the few shifters she employed. They’d finished early one day due to weather, and had stopped at a diner. One of the men caught the scent of a woman in the building and immediately his disposition toward his workmates changed. He hadn’t been an Alpha, so no surge of power even remotely close to the levels Caleb had thrown out, but the idea was the same.

  Whatever Caleb’s reason may have been, Georgia wasn’t interested.

  That was her story and she’d stick to it.

  ****

  Georgia sat at the table in the small motorhome she called her office and watched through the open door as the sun completed its slide below the horizon. After sending everyone home for the day, she’d made sure she was parked on level ground, dropped the stabilizers, and extended out the sides, opening up the interior and giving her more room. Peterson had ridden back with some of the crew, leaving her pickup here for whenever she got around to going home.