Rejecting the Alpha

2 Kylie

I woke to the rumble of an engine and the slight swaying of forward momentum. Still covered in my fur, I instantly leapt to my paws and looked around me and found myself in the backseat of a car.

My mate's scent hung heavy and mixed with leather in the enclosed space, inviting and repelling me. There was no denying it, by some horrible twist of fate, I had been trapped in a bond with a murderer.

"Shift so you can talk to me," he said from behind the wheel of the vehicle.

I growled in response, my hackles rising. I owed this man absolutely nothing but death.

"Change."

Another growl escaped me. Their pack had attacked ours without provocation, and I was not going to play along with this bastard who thought he could order me around.

Screw the mate-bond. If I went for his throat while he was driving in human form, I might be able to kill him right now, and if I didn't succeed, the resulting accident might. I leapt for the front seat, powerful jaw ready to rip out his throat as he had ripped out my families' to take my revenge.

Without even taking his left hand off the wheel, he blocked me by getting his right forearm between my jaws. I bit down as hard as I could, wishing to break his bones and sever the limb. Worse, I felt the tingles of our first contact where violence had connected us. The iron of his blood mingled with the other scents around me.

"Settle down. Kill me, and the rest of your people will join me."

His words loosened my jaws. I felt a sharp pain at the thought. I tried calling out for them through my bond, but I received no response.

"Now shift, or I'll call my beta and the first will die." His voice was cold.

Fiery hot frustrated rage began to eat me from the inside. I did as he had commanded, my body reshaping itself from one form to the other.

"Good, now come up here. I want to see you while I'm talking to you."

I wasn't entirely comfortable with being naked in my human form at the best of times, but this exposure was by far the worst experience in which I had ever been so vulnerable. I forced myself to crawl up, covering as much as I could of myself while I did it.

He looked over at me and I heard a growl of approval. I shivered, my heart torn between fury and satisfaction.

"There's a blanket on the floor," he told me.

I reached for it and covered myself. If he had wanted to save me the embarrassment he could have given it to me before making me come up. Asshole.

"What's your name?" he asked.

I wanted to refuse and tell him where to go, but instead I said, "Kylie Leland."

"Kylie."

He did not volunteer his name and I wasn't going to ask. I didn't want to know about him. I could reject the mate-bond with or without it, although making it personal was the most painful and lasting way to do it. He would probably tell me in time when he let down his guard.

He seemed content to drive along in utter silence but for the hum of the engine. I had a million questions, but I was not going to favour him with my curiosity. He didn't deserve my interest. He deserved nothing but my disdain.

I glanced towards him and studied his profile. His bone structure was strong and just sharp enough to lend him a handsome appearance. If he had been any person besides a violent genocidal dictator, I would have been happy to have him be my mate.

As it was, in spite of everything, I could feel the bond trying to pull me to him. I was going to fight it until the end. I was never going to give in to him.