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Cassie is miserable. At just 23 the buxom, beautiful werewolf has found herself caught up in her mother’s Machiavellian power struggles, forced into an arranged marriage with the cruel, violent alpha of the Ironclaws, Lucius. When the Long Night arrives Cassie will be his property, to do with as he pleases.
Imprisoned in Lucius’ summer home with Megan, a gutter-minded 400 year old teenager, and Rutherford, a senile housekeeper who can’t remember where he left his trousers, Cassie has resigned herself to her fate. She’d never dare go against her mother, and to reject Lucius would lead the weak Darkfangs into war against the mighty Ironclaws. Cassie knows she has no choice but to sacrifice her happiness for her tribe…
… And then she picks up a scent on the breeze.
The First Alpha is a tale of love against all odds; of betrayal, scheming and intrigue, and of two lost souls linked together across time.
“So what did you get up to last night?” she asked, handing Megan the water and pouring a few pills into her open palm. “Hot date?” Cassie already kinda knew the answer. She could smell the thick, cloying beta scent of Grayson all over her friend.
Megan grinned through the headache. “More like four hours of Jägerbomb beer pong, a Springsteen themed jukebox and a little wild sex in the forest on the way home.”
“So… a typical date, then.”
Megan chuckled, then winced and covered her eyes with her palms. “Ow! Don’t make me laugh, Cass. I’m dyin’ here. Yeah, though, pretty typical. I think things might be getting serious between us. He’s talking about us going on a hunt together after your wedding.” She smiled. “It’s nice to finally meet a good guy.”
Cassie remained diplomatically silent. Grayson Ironclaw was many things, but a good guy wasn’t one of them. The conniving, rat faced beta modeled himself after his idol Lucius in every respect, even down to the slicked back (and bleached) blonde hair. Grayson was Lucius without the power, which somehow made his cruelty even worse.
He was also a coward to his very bones. He’d take on any man or wolf, so long as he was certain he’d win. If he couldn’t guarantee victory he’d enlist the help of his friends to hold his opponent still as he handed out the beating. Like Lucius, he was a man entirely without honor. Cassie wished Megan could see through the veneer of charm he’d copied from Lucius, but she wasn’t about to lecture her friend on her choice in men. After all, Cassie was only 23. Megan had four centuries on her. If she didn’t know better by now, she never would.
Cassie tugged at the belt of her silk nightgown and dropped it to the floor. “Come on, get out of those ridiculous whore rags and come for a walk. You’ll feel better.”
Megan grumbled but stood shakily from the lounger, sliding the tiny black scrap of a dress from her shoulders. “Why the hell do we get hangovers, Cass? I could regrow a severed leg in an hour, but gimme a bottle of scotch and I’m a wreck all day.”
Cassie smiled as she stepped from the porch and shifted to all fours, rolling in the dew soaked grass before shaking out her fur. Megan asked the same thing most mornings. She turned to watch the hungover wreck of a girl shift and laughed inwardly when she saw the wolf was just as much a mess as she’d been in human form. Megan’s fur stuck out at crazy angles, and it was clear from the way her ears instantly flattened against her head that the heightened senses of the lupine didn’t do any favors to the hungover.
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