Alpha's Virgin in Distress: A Wolf Shifter Paranormal Romance Read online

  Alpha’s Virgin in Distress

  Copyright © 2020 Casey Morgan; All Rights Reserved.

  A standalone full-length novel in the

  Alpha’s Virgin series (Book 11)

  I write super steamy shifter paranormal romance and urban fantasy reverse harem romance. My goal is to fulfill all your fantasies at once!

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Sandy

  Chapter Two

  Blake

  Chapter Three

  Sandy

  Chapter Four

  Blake

  Chapter Five

  Sandy

  Chapter Six

  Blake

  Chapter Seven

  Sandy

  Chapter Eight

  Blake

  Chapter Nine

  Sandy

  Chapter Ten

  Blake

  Chapter Eleven

  Sandy

  Chapter Twelve

  Blake

  Epilogue

  Sandy

  Sneak Peek of Alpha’s Virgin in Danger

  Books in the Alpha’s Virgin Series

  Chapter One

  Sandy

  The number of trees that passed by my window increased—tall, solemn, green-needled branches everywhere. The landscape of wherever we were was pretty, but it was so different than what I was used to growing up in the middle of Texas. Since this trip had started, I hadn’t seen one single store, shopping mall, or luxury hotel. It was just trees, trees, and more trees. The sight made me uncomfortable. I always thought of myself as a city girl since I was from Dallas. Now that was going to change. And I didn’t have a choice in the matter.

  Most people would be excited sitting where I was, in the backseat of a limo, driving off to a new life. Me, on the other hand, I was mostly annoyed and depressed by the whole process. It was my mother's idea to send me off. I was not consulted at all.

  I should be at home morning with my sisters. Our father had been shot just a few days ago. I still couldn’t understand that he was gone. It was so unreal. One minute he was preaching in front of one of the largest congregations in the U.S., and the next…

  I shook my head, trying to not get caught in the horrible memory. The gunshot had been muffled or silenced. When Dad dropped to his knees, I thought he had been overtaken by the spirit. However, when he fell to the floor, there was so much blood. Chaos took over. Everything was dreamlike—blurry with silent screams. Mom had pushed me to the floor of the church, my face pressed hard against the carpet. I wasn’t scared. All I could think of was how angry I was. My vision ran red.

  The days after were a jumble of decisions to a rushed funeral. There was no time for me to wrap my head around what had happened. I couldn’t process the loss. There was always something to do, some important task that needed my full attention. I’m not even sure I slept.

  Then it got worse.

  Mom came into my room a few nights ago, just after my father’s funeral, bawling her eyes out.

  “You know that I love you, right, Sandy?” she said through intermittent sobs.

  “Yes,” I told her, pulling her into a hug as we sat on my bed together.

  I figured my mother was upset about my father’s death and that she just wanted to say the words. Lord knows I didn’t say I love you enough to Dad. He might have been distant, but he was a good father. He had spoiled us, his three daughters, and made sure we had everything we needed.

  Now he was gone—murdered. It was so hard to believe.

  Mom shifted in my arms so she could rub her eyes. She was always a bit cold, but despite everything, I knew that she did love me. She had given me a great life, and I had little complaints.

  I had grown up very religious since my father was a famous TV evangelist. We were in the church so much it was almost like our second home. My sisters and I had a great bond and childhood. I figured that we would always be together.

  That's why I was shocked at her next words.

  Mom pulled away, looking up into my eyes, so different from the light blue of hers. She patted my cheek, something she hadn’t done since I was little. “Sandy, pack your bags. You’re starting a new life. Your limo is leaving in an hour.”

  I jumped back, startled. “What?”

  In reply, Mom just nodded and started to get up. “Get a move on, honey. I have to get ready for your sisters.”

  “A new life?” My heart sank. I had to be dreaming, but I wasn’t. Feeling adrift, I grabbed my favorite pillow and clutched it to my chest. “I can’t go, my birthday is coming up soon. Emma and Christina’s are too! We are going to have the biggest party…”

  Mom looked down at me. The slight smile on her face was bittersweet. “Not this time, love.” She held up a single finger. “One hour.”

  As Mom headed towards my door, I jumped up to chase after her. “But. But where am I going?” She didn’t turn around. “Mom! Where?”

  Reaching out, she grabbed my doorknob, dropping her head slightly. “It’s better if you don’t know,” Mom whispered. In one quick move, she left, slamming the door behind her. It was locked from the outside. I couldn’t follow.

  Now I was left all alone trying to figure out the location of my new life as I watched the winding countryside from my backseat perch in the limo. Nothing looked familiar as I rested my head against the glass. It was all just…strange. To be honest, I wasn’t even sure how long we had been driving. Time seemed to drift—slow at some points and fast at others.

  It seemed like my world had turned upside down the day that my father was killed. He had been the rock of the family, the glue that held our little group together. And now he was gone with no reason or explanation. I mean, who killed a man of God?!

  My mother cried for hours. When she stopped crying, she just stared at the wall. Whenever I would try to talk to her, she would utter one-word phrases and return to staring at nothing. His death all but destroyed her. Ever since then, things seemed to be changing every day.

  Now that she was sending me away, I was grieving, not just the loss of my father, but of my whole family. I hadn’t even been able to see my sister Emma. She never made it home for the funeral. Now, she and Christina were lost to me.

  People said we looked like triplets, same ice-blonde hair, same yellow-brown eyes, but we each were exactly one year in age apart—well, one year and one day. I was the oldest, about to turn twenty-one. We would have a huge birthday bash every summer, usually with a pool and a guest list a mile long. Now that was over, and since my mother wasn't giving me any details about where I was going, I wasn't sure if I would ever see my sisters again. I hoped that I would, but everything was so uncertain.

  All I knew for sure was that I wanted to get revenge on whoever took my father away from us. I didn’t know who it was or why it had to happen, or even how I would get revenge, but it was a desire that burned from within my soul. I wanted things to be made right. I wanted my life back. Nothing would ever bring my father home, but knowing that I could serve some justice on the murderer would do my heart some good.

  I tapped my fingers on the seat next to me, fighting the urge to claw at the leather. Anger was causing my chest to clench, and my head was foggy from the emotion. I even felt frustration towards my own mother. Even though I knew that she was doing what she could under the circumstances, I wished she had handled thi
ngs differently. For one, I wished that she would tell me what was going on and where she was sending me. But, in her mind, she was trying to save my life.

  Still, I wanted to yell at her. Screams caught in my throat, coming out as strange whimpers. As I remembered every detail of my father’s face—the way his eyes would light up as he was preaching, the way he would smile when we would secretly get ice cream together—I started to choke, not from crying but from rage. The feeling was beginning to worry me. It was taking over my life. It really felt like the anger was somehow changing my body.

  All of a sudden, I began to feel really warm. My skin tightened, so I didn't feel like myself. Cramps ran through my arms and legs.

  Shots rang out right outside of our car. I heard one of the tires blow out, and the limo started careening from left to right.

  “Hang on,” yelled the driver, struggling to right the vehicle on three wheels.

  I glanced back, seeing a black SUV inches behind us. I hadn’t even seen it drive up—I was too lost in my own throughs. Hauling himself out of the passenger’s side window, a man in a black mask pointed a gun right at me. It was like he could see me through the tinted glass of the back window. My heart beat faster, but not in fear. I wanted to lunge at the man. I wanted to break his neck. How dare they threaten me!

  Swerving harder, the limo started to turn sideways. There was a screeching noise as it tipped, one side hitting the pavement. Thrown down, my head hit the window shattering the glass. Pain throbbed in my skull. We slid to a stop, crashing into a tree.

  Before I could raise my voice in a yell, the ground dropped out from under me as the limo's right side fell further into a ditch. The jarring motion almost knocked me out.

  Silence stretched for a moment as the driver and I caught our breath. He shifted in his seat, looking back to see if I was alive. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  When his eyes found me, they widened. All of the color drained from his face. I figured that I must be pretty bruised up, but the man trembled in fear. Panting, he pointed at me then started screaming.

  “Monster! Monster!”

  Flinging open his door, he jumped out of the car. Another shot rang out. I saw blood flowing over the driver's white shirt, then he slumped onto the ground.

  A car’s engine revved off in the distance.

  I was confused and afraid. I didn't know what was going on or exactly what I was going to do. I was all alone. How was I going to defend myself?

  Chapter Two

  Blake

  The engine of my bike rumbled strongly beneath me as I sped up through a turn on the curvy highway in the Bighorn Mountains. Cold, refreshing air tore at my skin as I increased my speed, lost for the moment in the feeling of bliss.

  Riding my motorcycle was as close as I could get to running in human form. Hell, it felt close to flying, but as a werewolf, flight wasn’t something I would ever truly experience. Nope. It was running or the bike. Those two things were the best I had yet to encounter in life. Trying to hit higher and higher speeds, all I could think was that no one would ever catch me now.

  It felt good to be out in the wide-open space with the wind in my face. These rides were great for clearing my head. They reminded me of how powerful I was—something I had nearly lost long ago.

  There was a time in my life when freedom was the farthest thing from my reality. I was very much trapped, as were all other male werewolves at the time. This was years ago when the government had found out about shifters, and they were deathly afraid of overpopulation.

  A special agency was created that abducted all of the female werewolves away from their packs in an effort to control and destroy the were population. Some of these werewolf women were killed, but others were adopted out to conservative families, ones that would keep them so busy and out of the public eye that they wouldn’t be a problem. Plus, there was the strict rule that they were never to tell the girls about their powers.

  Young male werewolves, like I was at the time, were sent to detention camps and trained to be soldiers. It was a challenging time in my life. I was still trying to figure out my place in the world, and the world was telling me that the only position that I had was at the front lines with a gun in my hand. I wasn’t really the violent type unless I had to be, so learning to be a super-soldier was an ongoing nightmare.

  When a bunch of the other alpha wolves in the camp started circulating rumors that they were going to lead an uprising, I was right there with them for support. We were able to suppress the guards and break out. In fact, it turned out to be extremely easy. I mean, we were trained to be super soldiers; what were regular guards going to do? That was a significant oversight on the government’s part.

  Once my wolf brothers and I were free, we all agreed that the best thing for us to do was to go our separate ways and try to stay under the radar. We didn’t want the government attempting something like that again or coming after us with a more powerful weapon. I heal pretty quick, but even a werewolf won’t survive a nuclear bomb.

  So, most of us male shifters planned to wander around as lone wolves without a pack. For the most part, the idea didn’t bother me. The only thing that sucked was that I got lonely from time to time and wished that I had a mate.

  Most of my days were lived in isolation, trying to get to high speeds—as a wolf or on the bike—the only exciting thing to do. I was always moving or running, from place to place, never finding a home. Most of the time, I was trying not to think. I had a bitterness that stayed with me because of what happened in my youth. Going for rides on my motorcycle was the only thing that made me feel alive. On the bike, I was unstoppable and untouchable.

  Leaning into another turn, I spotted a large black car ahead of me. Oddly, the damned thing was a limo—a limo on a curvy Montana mountain road. It was plodding down the asphalt at a quick pace, and I planned to pass it, but as I got closer, the stupid thing sped up. At first, I figured the nutjob driver was trying to race, but who would race a long-ass car on a twisting road? That was a recipe for disaster.

  I revved my engine, trying to let the guy know that all I wanted to do was pass and be on my way, but the sound made him press on the gas. The big black car jumped forward, practically taking a tree out with it. Whoever was inside was in a desperate hurry. Feeling oddly put off, I decided to give the man the road. Something was telling me this meant trouble, and trouble was not on my agenda.

  Slowing down, I figured now was as good a time as any for a break. There was a pull-off close. After being on the road for hours, I could use a breather.

  As I swerved to the side, I heard another car behind me coming up quick. The SUV flew right past me, almost knocking me off my bike. Immediately, I could feel my temper rising. I glared after the asshole and noticed one of the car's men was holding something out of the passengers’ side window. It was a gun.

  I got even angrier. My inner wolf was calling for blood. Hitting the gas myself, I followed.

  It only took me a few seconds to realize that the dark SUV was tailing the limo—no wonder the driver was gunning it. I had accidentally found myself in the middle of a damn chase scene. This wasn’t any of my business, but my instincts had kicked in. I couldn’t turn away.

  With a loud crack, the gun shot at the limo, taking out one of the rear tires. The long car swerved. Tipping to the right, it crashed and slid, making a horrible screech as the metal hit the pavement. The scene was so crazy; I felt like everything was happening in slow motion.

  Just drive away, I thought to myself. None of this really was my business. I could drive away and leave all of them in the rearview and feel just fine about it.

  However, something was holding me there. It was an indistinct feeling that I really couldn't put my finger on.

  The limo crashed to a halt in the ditch that ran parallel to the road. It shook for a second, then settled. The SUV pulled to the left and parked. I did the same, making sure that the gunman was not paying attention to me.

  The
re was a short silence as the whole scene seemed to catch its breath, but it only lasted for a second. A man in the limo started screaming like crazy. The driver’s door pushed up and dropped to the ground, immediately followed by the driver himself. With a crazed look in his eyes, he attempted to dash from the car but ran right into the next bullet fired from the gunman. Blood flowed.

  My anger had reached its limit. I flew into a rage towards the SUV, pulled the door off the hinges, and drug the gunman out. In an instant, I was in wolf form, clawing at him, tearing his skin from his body. The rest of the men in the SUV didn’t turn to fight. They took off down the road, leaving their wounded friend behind. Assuming that the violence was over, I dropped the bleeding man. He took off running.

  When I was positive that everyone was gone, I transformed back into my human form and took a deep breath. I wasn't quite sure why I let something so trivial get under my skin or why I decided to get involved. Walking back towards my bike, I reflected on how stupid I had been.

  Then, I smelled something—vanilla and lilac. What was that? Was it a woman? It was definitely a woman.

  I shook my head. The scent was enticing, but I didn’t need to be concerned with some girl right now. I had already done too much. Walking back over to my bike, I started the engine.

  Something moved inside of the limo. Turning back, I watched curiously. Two slim fingered hands grabbed at the opened driver’s side door. She pulled up, white-blonde hair catching the sunlight first, followed by a set of full breasts under a t-shirt, wide hips in denim shorts, and long, long legs. Her skin was creamy—ivory colored and flawless.

  After jumping to the ground, she looked up. The stranger’s eyes bore into me—yellow-brown. They were too dark for her light hair and skin, and the effect was startling. This was the most attractive woman that I had ever seen. Her beauty stopped me dead in my tracks, making it hard to breathe.