Lovers: An Aleph Series Stories Novella Read online

  LOVERS

  By Julie L. York

  Copyright © 2015, Julie L. York

  Smashwords Edition

  Self-publishing

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, emailing, blogging, recording, or by any digital information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

  Original Cover Art and Design by Julie L. York

  Model Image by Jason Aaron Baca

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  A MALE WERE IS ONLY AS GOOD AS HIS PARENTS

  ESPECIALLY ONE DESTINED TO RULE A REGION.

  Decades before Solomon Aleph became the North American Regional Alpha, his path and destiny were set by his parents ~ Jethro and Sarah. Because of them, he grew up to be the most powerful Regional Alpha on the planet.

  In the middle of nowhere South Dakota, Jethro Aleph met, fell for, and mated a feisty red head named Sarah. Bravery and strength are requirements for the Alpha pair, and the two together became an unstoppable combination. Knowing that their pup would someday be in charge of North America, they hid little, about life and leadership from Solomon.

  Regional Alphas don’t openly adore their mates. Their Alpha females do not tell their mates what to do. Fathers do not laugh and play with their pups. Without question, pups are to be put into their place. But Alephs do not follow rules.

  Poignant, life altering moments happened often to their small family. But in order to survive, they learned to thrive during devastating lessons of betrayal and loss.

  Lessons Solomon never forgot.

  This remarkable series starter novella showcases those unforgettable - and sometimes unforgivable - moments in the lives and world of the Aleph family.

  Julie’s contemporary world of modern day shifters ~ werewolves, werecats, and other weres ~ is based on science and DNA, not unknown magic.

  Enter the world of the Aleph Series Stories.

  EXCERPT FROM “LOVERS”

  Wiping his eyes, still chuckling, he stood and walked over to Sarah and helped her down from the tabletop she’d climbed on top of. Giving her a tender but passionate kiss, he led her by the hand back to her chair. “Stay sitting this time, my lovely little one, your spirit may be a badass, but your body still hasn’t healed completely. I’ll take it from here,” he smiled and ran the back of his knuckles down her cheek, stroking over and over until he felt her calm beneath his touch.

  My little hot head is going to burst into flames one of these days.

  Our mate is strong, his wolf snorted, protecting his heart.

  I know she is. But someday she’s going to overdo it. I just hope we’re there to catch her.

  We’re not leaving her. Ever.

  DEDICATION

  To amazing beta readers who caught little errors, but asked brilliant questions, forcing me to actually *gasp* think! I see a movie in my head, and they pointed out where I wasn’t letting them in on the story—Kathie and Gwenellen — m’wah! And to Lauralynn for being willing to line edit an editor—brave, brave woman—and someone I consider a good friend.

  To all the authors before me who’ve ever written anything about werewolves, because in reading so many different versions and portrayals over the years, your stories solidified what I believe to be the “truth” about shifters, decades before I ever picked up a pen…even when “Oh, I don’t think so!” came out of my mouth while I read.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Approximately 45 years before the beginning of “Solomon Aleph”

  “Yes, dad,” Jethro said through gritted teeth, “I called the local alpha, just before I called you.”

  “You’re supposed to call before you get into town,” his father said with a sigh.

  “What am I, ten? The Laws don’t tell me how much notice I have to give, only that I do,” Jethro said, eyeing his frothy beer that might just get warm before this conversation was over.

  “Are you sure you can make it here in two days?” his father questioned again.

  With a deep sigh, he answered, “You know, it seems like you’re forgetting the fact that I’m 45. And your heir.”

  “I’ve forgotten nothing,” his father snapped. “But it appears to me as if you’ve forgotten those facts. You shouldn’t be anywhere in the Dakotas, you should be somewhere between Montreal and New Orleans. This side trip...”

  “Is just that, a side trip,” Jethro answered curtly. “I got wind of some local issues, and since the meeting with the crazy cats isn’t for a few days, I knew I’d have time to check it out. The local pack is well integrated with the humans in this town, so I’m not sure why there are problems, but there are.”

  The sound of laughter made Jethro hold the phone away from him and stare at it. Dad’s laughing?

  “Dad?” he asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

  “Son, I’m fine,” the voice chuckled. “Did it never cross your mind why I picked you two years ago, and not either of your brothers, as my heir?”

  Of course it had, Jethro wasn’t stupid. With both an older and younger brother, his father’d had options when it came to naming a Regional heir, and for some unknown reason, he’d picked his middle son. “I wasn’t going to question it, it’s your choice. Besides, Jacob gave you enough shit about it.”

  “The answer you just gave me is why I picked you. Jacob wouldn’t have left Montreal until he was good and ready to, and would be arguing all the way down about having anything to do with any packs in the Dakotas, while I’d be stuck driving because it’s the only way I’d ever get him to do what I needed him to do,” his father said. “And Joshua would have completely ignored the calls to begin with because I said to go to New Orleans.”

  “But he would have been in New Orleans already,” Jethro grinned. His little brother did his damned best to never make waves. He and Jacob excelled at that enough to give their mother white hair at 50.

  “True, but ignoring phone calls from pack members regarding inappropriate behavior of alphas is not the sign of a good Regional Alpha,” his father admonished. “You are willing to go against my orders to do what you believe is best for a pack in your Region, while at the same time, keeping your commitment to this meeting with the cats. That, son, is why I picked you. Like I said last week, you’re going to be handed more of my responsibilities. Someday I won’t be giving any kind of orders, it’ll all be up to you. And you’re the only one of my sons who can do it.”

  That last statement took a few seconds to fully process. While his wolf was strutting, chest puffed out, the man wasn’t as certain. “I’m not so sure about that,” Jethro muttered.

  “Yes, you are, and you’ll prove it once I stop making decisions. You can’t stand disorder, Jethro, never could,” his father chuckled.

  Jethro couldn’t really argue with that. He wasn’t a neat freak at all, but when he saw disorganization in leadership, or packs, or how the Ranch was being run...it drove him nuts. So he fixed it. When he was growing up, he’d just hand his ideas to his dad, who used most of them.

  “I can tell I’ve got you thinking.”

  He could hear his father’s grin of satisfactio
n from hundreds of miles away.

  I hate it when he does that.

  “I’m going now, dad, I’ll call when I’m leaving,” he said. Not wanting to hear more, he leaned over the bar, giving a grateful nod to the bartender, and hung the phone up, making sure the cord didn’t get in the way.

  He sat himself back down on the stool and pulled his beer closer. Hallelujah it’s still cold. It took Jethro ten minutes before he could pinpoint what his wolf was so excited about. The mutt had been doing its own version of a sexy shimmy, preening and showing off. But the instant he caught sight of the female, he gave a soft snort into his drink, silently congratulating his wolf on its good taste. A red head. Not a bad choice, buddy.

  So go talk to her you idiot.

  Most of his friends were already mated, and both of his brothers already had a pup or two. So what if he was a little behind the curve? With his father’s recent admission that he was going to hand over the Region in the next year or two, Jethro knew his days as a free wolf were numbered.

  Adam Aleph had retained full control over the Region with no hints about stepping down…until last week when his dad had started talking about retirement plans. I wonder if mom knows he’s always planned on moving to Alaska? He snickered silently to himself. She’s going to kill him...she hates snow, even as a wolf.

  Fully aware he was going to have to tie himself down soon—The Laws required that the Regional Alpha to be married—he figured he might as well find a pretty female, so he could enjoy the lifelong view. Ranch Town was crawling with willing females, but he wanted nothing to do with a female who knew exactly who his family was and how much power the Aleph’s had.

  Nah, better to find an enjoyable view who knows nothing but my name.

  And the view he saw sitting in a booth on the other side of the bar was not one he would mind seeing for the rest of his life. Not as tall as most other females, but just as curvy, with reddish hair that screamed natural. The sexy waves set off her light brown eyes perfectly. She was definitely a looker, and was turning heads, human and Were.

  And that was making his wolf cranky.

  Very cranky.

  Glancing around the busy human bar, he made a quick mental tally of how many humans were around; no reason to make a scene he’d just have to clean up himself. Better to lay low for a bit and observe before making his move. There was a large pack only 20 miles outside this small South Dakota town, and it was obvious this town and the pack had learned to live in harmony. That didn’t really surprise Jethro.

  The Dakotans were notorious for minding their own business, as long as you minded yours. The pack ran a large farm, helping the local human economy, so the Weres were often in town, finding it easier to let the humans run many of the businesses needed by both—like grocery and hardware stores—and stick to raising things.

  His wolf chaffed at how so many of their kind had turned to farming. We’re predators. You can’t hunt down a growing plant. It snorted and sat down in the background with a stubborn huff.

  Did you forget, farms and ranches are large open spaces with plenty of room for small critters, like tasty rabbits, to live on?

  Shut up.

  You are certainly in a bad mood, Jethro teased.

  Just go talk to her, and I’ll be in a much better mood.

  He took in the smiles and laughter of the humans and the Weres, and grinned to himself. This is what it should always be like: humans and Weres living around and interacting with each other, with no problems.

  Yeah, but the humans don’t know the truth, do they? his wolf snorted.

  Shut up. It’s possible. Jethro had to admit it wasn’t a likely possibility, but if all it took was simply keeping to themselves and keeping their natures under wraps…then maybe his Region’s packs didn’t have to live such isolated lives. It’s working here, why can’t it work everywhere else?

  Because some idiot alphas don’t think that we should ever have to hide what we are, that’s why.

  Uh huh, cuz uncontrolled shifting, whenever the mood strikes, is such a good idea, even in a town full of Weres, Jethro snapped. He ran his hand down his face, starting to get angrier at himself than at his wolf. Sometimes he felt like an idiot, constantly arguing with himself. Like all werewolves, he was in control, not the wolf that was a link to their inner animal’s instincts.

  But sometimes it had differing opinions, and as Regional Alpha heir, the fact that anyone dared to argue with him just pissed him off. However, the fact that he was pissed at an inner part of himself eventually caught up with his logic and then made him feel like a moron.

  A quick movement off to the side caught Jethro’s eye, and without turning his head, he focused his attention on the pretty female who’d caught his wolf’s eye. She wasn’t exactly arguing with the young male next to her, but she didn’t seem too overly happy about their conversation. Jethro decided to let things continue and only step in if she seemed to be more irritated by him than she already was.

  There was a mirror over the bartender’s head—not something done accidentally. With a history of violence in rural America, not being able to see behind you could easily get you killed. Jethro didn’t sense any danger, and didn’t see anything more than a pup being a pain in the ass. He dropped his chin to his chest and closed his eyes for a moment, clearing his mind. He was going to have so much to do as Alpha—it made his head spin. He had no idea how his dad had been able to do it all. Just like this side trip, on his way somewhere else…there was always something else.

  How can I be a husband and father and travel my Region? Going to New Orleans was not high on his personal priority list, but there were some new rumblings of discord from other Were species who hovered around New Orleans. The Alpha and the heir needed to show a united front, and maybe set some ground rules before any of the werecats did something stupid like mark a human building, in broad daylight.

  He didn’t put anything past a werecat.

  They were unhinged and not housebroken on the best of days, and, God help them all, if a female ever decided to pull them together, there was no telling what kind of trouble her rampant heat cycles would lead her troupe into. Female werecats refused to take the daily Healer-made capsules, like human birth control did for human females.

  His mom still complained about how uncomfortable the heat cycle was for werewolf females. Being a male with no sisters, Jethro had no idea if it was true.

  Female werecats relied solely on condoms because, for some unfathomable reason, they enjoyed their heat cycles. Jethro was constantly amazed that there weren’t millions of werecat/human hybrids with as often as their females went into heat cycles and as unreliable as condoms often were.

  Randy sluts.

  The sudden yank of an arm in his peripheral vision finally made Jethro turn his head to look at the beautiful female and her companions. She still didn’t look like she was in trouble, but her young male companion was looking…quite upset. Regardless of whether nor not she thought she could handle it, Jethro could see the irritation in the body language of the young male. Whatever it was she didn’t like, her stubbornly set attitude about it was going to provoke her young male friend into a fight.

  Jethro silently stood up from his bar stool and quietly made his way over to where she, the male, and a group of about six other young werewolves were sitting.

  He really thought the young male would be smart enough to realize that no ordinary Were was approaching.

  “We don’t want you here, old man,” the male snarled.

  Apparently not. Jethro just raised an eyebrow and leaned his hip against the booth they were sitting at. “Old man?” Jethro answered, ignoring the snarling threat. “Last time I checked, 45 isn’t old.” He eyeballed the entire group. This idiot was apparently the only one who couldn’t tell he was severely outmatched by the “old man” standing in front of him.

  The young Were stood up, probably to give him the rundown on “how things work around here” but before he could get
more than a sound out, Jethro had his throat in one hand and had slammed him against the wall 10 feet away from the booth. He let his wolf out, just a bit, until the young male grew pale. Jethro glanced at the bartender, who was leaning his elbows across the top of the bar, pretending to look nonchalant, but in all reality, Jethro knew the man had a shotgun within six inches of his left hand. He nodded to the human barkeep but didn’t drop the young male or let more than his toes touch the ground.

  “It’s a mistake to provoke a wolf you don’t know, pup,” Jethro whispered, nose to nose with the boy. His initial assessment of him had been off by a few years. This male was only a year or two beyond his youth stages, making him, at most, 21. Slanting a look to the female who’d caught the attention of his wolf, he didn’t see any censure in her eyes.

  He had to admit that he was disappointed—with a prick to his pride—to find there weren’t any signs of interest either.

  Turning back to the young male, and hoping to see some sign of defeat, he was disappointed.

  Jethro raised his eyebrow again and leaned in closer. “Who do you belong to, pup?” He wasn’t very surprised to learn this overgrown child belonged to the local alpha. Giving him a shake, and tightening his hold on his throat slightly, he said, “I will only warn you this once, suckling, you need to learn who your betters are by sight, smell, and listening to your wolf, who is probably cowering in fear in a dark corner right now. And just so you make no mistake on just who is giving this lecture, go home and tell daddy Jethro Aleph says you need to go back to your pup-learning and re-educate yourself with what manners are and when to use them.”

  He finally saw the defeat and recognition in the young male’s eyes that satisfied his wolf. He carefully set him down on his now shaky feet, knowing that bruising him wouldn’t win him any points with the pack alpha, though in the grand scheme of things, one pack was just a drop in the water of his Region. Still…one angry alpha when it could be prevented…