Alpha King’s Secret Baby (The Runaway Mate #1)

Chapter 1

Casey

The road toward Kisatchie National Forest stretched ahead, as unknown to me as the reason for the spluttering in my dad’s old pickup truck. He was always better at getting her to run smoothly.

“Well, Dad, I hope you’ll be happy there,” I said, glancing at the cardboard box in the passenger seat. Tears pricked my eyes, but I blinked them away. I’d cried enough in the three weeks since my dad died, and the last thing I needed was to wreck on my way to spread his ashes. “I hope I’m doing the right thing,” I muttered as if he could hear me.

I’d never expected to be an orphan at nineteen. Dad’s heart attack had come as a surprise, but then again, nobody ever prepares for something like that. My dad had been the only solid, dependable thing in my life, but in an instant, he was gone.

I cleared my throat and focused on the horizon, my knuckles turning white as I gripped the steering wheel. “I wish you’d told me more about your past,” I said to the box. I’d questioned Dad so many times over the years, desperate for knowledge about where we came from and why we didn’t have a pack. All he’d told me was to stay away from other shifters, wolves or otherwise. Mom had been killed by another shifter, but I didn’t know the details. I never could buck up the courage to ask Dad for more information. He always looked so haunted when he talked about Mom, but that hadn’t stopped him from making sure I knew how much she’d loved me.

It was one of the few things I knew, along with the fact I had her dark gray eyes—like storm clouds, Dad always used to say—and she and Dad were fated mates. It was rare, but some wolf shifters were destined to be together, born with a twin soul that matched theirs. It seemed like a fairytale romance—two people made for each other, compatible in all ways. In my mind, nothing could come between them; they’d face all odds together and surmount any obstacle.

Trees appeared, sparsely dotting the grass plain before the forest finally came into view. The lush pines butted up against the bare field like a wall separating the human world from the natural one. My heart beat faster, fluttering against my ribs like a caged bird. The final fact I had about my parents was that they used to run beneath the full moon in Kisatchie National Forest.

I’d never been to this part of Louisiana. Hell, I hadn’t ventured more than an hour or two out of town before. Canesville had been my home since Mom died. It sat on the border of Louisiana and Texas, far from anything. I’d never even seen the ocean. I’d dreamed of traveling when I left school, but I hadn’t wanted to leave Dad alone. I’d taken odd jobs around town instead, although nothing ever stuck. Now, I was glad I hadn’t flown the nest. At least I’d spent time with Dad before he’d died so suddenly. I rubbed my chest, feeling the ache of loss deep in my heart.

I took a right onto the forest road and drove a few miles into the woods. I didn’t know what I was looking for, so I let the winding dirt track guide me until I found a safe place to pull off and park. I turned off the engine and sat for a moment. I took a deep breath and wrapped my hand around the pendant on my necklace. Dad had given it to me on my fourteenth birthday. He’d said it was a protection symbol, a fleur-de-lis made from two crescent moons and a spearhead. He’d picked the symbol because of his Cajun roots, the fleur-de-lis reminding him of his parents, who I’d never met. He’d told me the moons were for our wolf nature and the spearhead to remind me that we were fighters.

There was no magic in it, I could tell. Another thing I’d inherited from Mom was her ability to use magic—not that I had much control over mine. I hadn’t practiced and didn’t know where to start, but I could sense it. But the symbol didn’t have to bear a spell to have meaning. It was my father’s love and advice that I carried with me.

“Trust your intuition,” I murmured, repeating the words my father said to me when he put the pendant around my neck. “Remember your strength.” I traced the spearhead with my finger. “Honor your dual nature.” I rubbed my thumb over the two crescent moons.

I was ready to say goodbye.

I climbed out of the truck, bringing the cardboard box holding Dad’s ashes with me. I hadn’t thought to ask for an urn. Apparently, that was extra. I didn’t even know if wolf shifters were meant to be cremated. Was I missing out on some tradition? Did other wolves bury their dead? Was I supposed to have given Dad a Viking funeral?

Trust your intuition.

I’d done that—there was no point in doubting it now. I would spread his ashes in a place that reminded him of Mom and hope they were together.

I entered the woods, holding the box to my chest. The trees stretched toward the sky, casting dappled shadows around me and cooling the warm summer air. Tall pines towered over lush, delicate ferns, and in the distance, I heard the rush of a river. It was beautiful.

“I can see why you and Mom loved it here,” I said to my dad, imagining a run through the trees at night beneath the full moon. “You must have felt so free.”

Freedom wasn’t something I’d given much thought to, but in this forest, my wolf craved it. She urged me to transform, run, and reach my full potential instead of suppressing her. She wanted to be wild. It would be a great way to honor my parents and feel closer to them. But first, I needed to find a spot for my dad.

I wandered through the forest, taking my time. It wasn’t like I had anywhere to be. I was going home to an empty house. At least the woods didn’t make me feel alone, not when nature was so alive around me.

Dad had left me enough money to tide me over for a month or two, but soon, I’d have to figure out what to do with my life. The forest reminded me I’d once dreamed of getting into herbalism and protective magic. Not all shifters had the ability to work with such things. I’d inherited the talent from my mother and always wanted to follow in her footsteps, but it was hard to think about such things in my dusty, conservative little town. Amid the trees, however, the energy of nature called to me. My wolf was happy here despite my grief.

Clusters of delicate white flowers with deep pink stamens caught my attention. It was an azalea bush tucked between two ferns. A long-forgotten memory flashed into my head. Unlike my fuzzy recollections of her loving presence, I saw her clear as day, those storm-gray eyes sparkling with happiness as she planted an azalea bush in our backyard. They were her favorite flowers, and she’d told me how much she loved the wild ones in the forest.

This was the place to bring Mom and Dad back together and return him to the forest he loved. I held my pendant again and offered up silent thanks.

I knelt in front of the azalea bush, not minding that my tatty jeans were getting muddy. I took a moment to picture my parents’ faces. “I lost you both too soon,” I said, my heart clenching painfully. “I love you, Dad.”

With tears in my eyes, I opened the box and sprinkled the ashes around the bush, letting the breeze carry some further into the forest. I stayed there until the heavy weight of my grief began to ease.

When I finally got up, my knees were wet from the earth, but my eyes were dry. I wiped my face with the back of my sleeve. A gust of wind blew through the trees, rustling the leaves and dancing along my back. It felt like the forest was holding me.

The loud snap of a twig caught my attention. I froze, listening intently. The birds went quiet, and a hush fell over the forest like it was holding its breath. My skin prickled, and goosebumps erupted over my arms.

I turned, scanning between the trees for signs of danger. Nothing. I tried to tell myself it wasn’t a big deal, but my instincts demanded I run. I needed to get back to the truck.

I took a few steps down the trail I’d followed, holding my pendant like a talisman. I was already trusting my instincts, but my father’s other phrases played through my mind.

Remember your strength. Honor your dual nature.

I was helpless in my human form, but my wolf could put up a fight.

I ducked behind a tree and quickly stripped off. I had spare clothes in the truck. I left my necklace on, as the chain was long enough to remain intact during my transformation.

I let my wolf take over. The pain of the transformation was brief. My bones lengthened, and my muscles stretched and shifted as my human body gave way to the powerful wolf that lurked within.

In my wolf form, my senses heightened. I strained my ears, listening for whatever silenced the forest. Apart from the distant sound of a river, I heard nothing. I scented the air—earth, rotting leaves, and the sweet smell of some flower I couldn’t identify. There were squirrels in the trees, but those posed no threat.

Am I just being paranoid? What do I know about forests?

I couldn’t take the chance. I set off at a run, back toward my truck. That’s when I saw them.

There was a flash of fur through the trees, first on my left, then on my right. I was being hunted. I caught their scent too late; they’d been downwind. I knew the sharp, ozone-like smell of magic, but unlike the earthy aroma of my fur, this contained something acrid. Shifters chased me, and they weren’t wolves.

I picked up the pace, hoping to outrun them. By my count, there were at least four, but I wasn’t about to stop and get an accurate number. I ran as fast as I could, my paws tearing up the ground beneath me. I had a chance of holding my own against one shifter, but four?

I turned my head, catching another glimpse of my pursuers. They looked feline.

Mountain lions?

I didn’t think we had mountain lions in Louisiana, shifter or otherwise.

I doubled my efforts, running for my life. If they caught up with me, I would be in trouble. The pines whipped past in a dizzying blur. I crashed through the ferns and leaped over a fallen tree. I didn’t recognize this part of the forest. I was so focused on fleeing that I hadn’t kept track of my whereabouts. I should have made it to my truck by now. I risked a glance over my shoulder. They weren’t there. Had I outrun them?

I shouldn’t have come here. If I’d been a human girl, I never would have gone into the woods alone. I thought I’d be safe as a shifter. And if I’d encountered humans, I would have been. Not once did I consider I’d run into shifters—I hadn’t even met any other shifters.

I didn’t slow; there wasn’t enough distance between us yet. My lungs ached, and my legs burned. I pushed myself harder, allowing my adrenaline to carry me forward. I could find my truck later. Right now, I just needed to get away. Water rushed ahead. I could probably cover my scent if I crossed a river and swam downstream. I just had to make it.

But when the trees cleared, my heart sank. A wide river stretched before me, crashing over rocks and frothing angrily. There was no way I could safely cross, even in my wolf form.

The thundering of paws on earth reached my ears, growing louder with each passing second. I had two choices: risk getting dashed on the rocks ahead or face the shifters. I was a strong swimmer, but I knew how dangerous white water was. I was outnumbered, but perhaps I could reason with the shifters. If all else failed, I would fight hard to get away.

I had to make a decision. They were getting closer. I looked at the water again and determined it was too rough.

I turned to face my attackers as they burst through the tree line. There were five, not four. Larger than any natural mountain lion, the five tawny feline shifters were imposing. Sinewy muscles rippled under their fur as they moved, every step calculated and precise. Their yellow eyes gleamed with hunger.

I let out a warning growl, shaking my head. They stalked toward me, predators cornering their prey. I didn’t dare shift to my human form to talk to them, as it would leave me too vulnerable. If they attacked, I’d have to fight.

I growled again, baring my teeth.

Don’t do it. Don’t do it.

I urged them to back down. I didn’t know why they’d even followed me. Had I stumbled into their territory somehow? Did they see a lone wolf as easy prey?

No matter how this ended, I would make them regret thinking I was defenseless. Dad had ensured I knew how to hold my own in my human and wolf form. I’d take them down with me if I had to.

They snarled, and the feral sound made my hackles rise.

The smallest mountain lion crouched, his lips curled back, exposing his teeth and broadcasting his attack. When he jumped, I was ready for him. I snapped my teeth around his leg and ripped, throwing him to the side before he could bite me. The others were on me in a flash, teeth and claws sinking into my side and flank. I tried to fight them off, but they held tight. I howled as if calling for the pack I didn’t have. Pain lanced through me.

I should have taken my chances with the river.

Just when hope was draining out of me faster than the blood from my wounds, I heard it—an answering howl. Someone was coming.