Alfa Ajax

Alfa Ajax

Gin Silverwolf

113.5k Words / Completed
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Introduction

Si morse il labbro inferiore gonfio. Volevo baciarlo per farlo stare meglio, ma giudicando dal crescente dolore nei miei pantaloni, sarebbe stato molto più di un semplice bacio.

"Ecco l'accordo. Mi scoperai e solo me. Non guarderai nemmeno un altro uomo senza conseguenze. D'ora in poi appartieni a me."

Lei tremava e mi fissava a bocca aperta. Si alzò e barcollò sui piedi, ma sostenne il mio sguardo.

"Mi stai facendo diventare la tua schiava sessuale?"
***
Rifiutata dal Principe Alfa per essere un'orfana umana, Delanie è maltrattata e ferita dal suo ex compagno. La sua vita come la conosce viene strappata via quando Blaise cerca di liberarsi di lei. Salvata dal notorio guerriero Alfa Ajax, le viene data una seconda possibilità di vita, ma ancora una volta viene degradata a schiava del branco. Questa volta, però, ha attirato l'attenzione di molti lupi potenti. L'Alfa Ajax ha i suoi problemi e una schiava bellissima non dovrebbe essere uno di questi, finché non lo diventa. Non riesce a smettere di pensare a lei e sa che altri verranno per lei. Il suo lupo non può permettere che un altro uomo le metta le mani addosso, quindi fa l'unica cosa che sa fare. La rende la sua schiava. Delanie si accontenterà di essere la schiava del branco o scoprirà chi è e da dove viene? Reclamerà l'amore che ha sviluppato per l'Alfa Ajax o la vita le infliggerà un altro colpo mortale?
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Gin Silverwolf

Chapter 1

"Spingi!" sibilò la levatrice.

Alexandra strinse le lenzuola bianche e si morse la lingua per non urlare. Mise tutta la sua forza nei muscoli per far uscire il bambino rapidamente. Il suo cuore batteva all'impazzata con mille paure. La sua amica e confidente era seduta accanto a lei e le passava un panno umido sulla fronte.

"Vedo la testa," disse la levatrice.

"Andrà tutto bene," le disse la sua amica, ma Alexandra non le credeva.

Aveva fatto tutto male e credeva che avrebbe pagato per questo.

"Quasi fatto," la incitò la levatrice.

Se doveva pagare per i suoi errori, va bene, ma che almeno il suo bambino fosse risparmiato. Alexandra non riuscì più a trattenere i suoi gridi e con un ultimo spinta urlò e il bambino venne al mondo.

Il bambino mise alla prova i suoi nuovi polmoni e gridò.

"È una femmina," dichiarò la levatrice.

Alexandra scambiò uno sguardo con la sua amica. Sperava che se fosse stato un maschio, forse lui avrebbe risparmiato il bambino se mai l'avesse scoperto. Ora era determinata a sfuggire al suo destino.

"Deve stare zitta," disse Alexandra.

"Rilassati, nessuno sa dove siamo. Mi sono assicurata di questo."

"Potremmo essere state seguite, Penny."

La levatrice avvolse l'infante in asciugamani e la mise tra le braccia della madre. Alexandra la accolse con le lacrime agli occhi.

"Ha i suoi occhi," disse Alexandra.

"Cosa farai ora? Potrei perdere la testa per colpa tua!" ribatté la levatrice.

"Ehi! Non ti abbiamo costretta ad aiutarci," abbaiò Penny.

"Voglio i miei soldi."

"Avrai la tua parte. Se qualcuno scopre mai di questo, saprò che sei stata tu."

La levatrice sollevò il mento e sigillò le labbra. Penny andò alla piccola borsa che aveva afferrato quando era fuggita da casa, prese il fascio di soldi che aveva risparmiato e lo diede alla levatrice.

"Avrei dovuto chiedere di più."

"Peccato, ora vai, sbrigati."

Alexandra cullava il bambino al petto. Penny guidò la levatrice verso la porta. La porta si aprì su un uomo barcollante con occhi dorati, una fronte rugosa e capelli scuri ingrigiti. Dietro di lui c'era un piccolo esercito di sette mutaforma. Penny sussultò quando i suoi occhi intensi si fissarono su di lei. Non erano fuggite abbastanza lontano.

"Max," disse Penny.

"Troia."

"Non capisci."

Max entrò. Penny arretrò, il cuore che batteva forte per il bambino e la sua amica ignara della presenza di Max nella stanza. La levatrice cercò di scappare ma Max alzò il pugno per avvisare i suoi mutaforma.

"Fermatela," ordinò Max.

"Non ho avuto niente a che fare con questo!" gridò.

"Dov'è?" domandò Max.

Penny sigillò le labbra. Max ringhiò e la sollevò da terra per la camicia.

"Dov'è quella troia?!"

Penny trasalì e non parlò.

"Ti strapperò la lingua, inutile—"

"Max!" gridò Alexandra.

Si trovava sulla soglia con il bambino addormentato tra le braccia. Si sentiva come se avesse corso una maratona e poi dormito su un letto di mattoni, ma trovò la forza per affrontare il gigante davanti a lei.

"Basta, per favore, basta," sussurrò.

Max gettò Penny a terra.

"Pensavo fosse una bugia. Non potevo credere che mia moglie mi avrebbe tradito e peggio ancora avrebbe avuto un figlio che non è mio. Pagherai per questo, puttana inutile."

Alexandra sollevò il mento. "Chiamami come vuoi, lascia andare lei, lascia andare tutti. Il tuo problema è con me."

Max avanzò. Si avvicinò ad Alexandra senza pietà. Guardò il bambino tra le sue braccia e sogghignò.

"I miei problemi sono con tutti quelli che ti hanno aiutato. Giuro che pagherai per questo."

Le lacrime le pungevano gli occhi. "Lascia stare il bambino."

"Hansel!" urlò Max. "Adesso!"

Hansel marciò nel soggiorno. Guardò Penny a terra, poi Alexandra e infine il bambino prima di rivolgersi al suo comandante.

"Prendi il bambino," ordinò Max.

"No!" gridò Alexandra.

"Sbarazzati di lei." Max strappò il bambino dalle braccia della moglie.

"Non ha fatto niente di male. Sono io che ti ho tradito."

"Lo so e ti sto punendo portandola via. Per sempre."

"Cosa vuoi che faccia con lei?" chiese Hansel, fissando il bambino tra le sue braccia.

"Uccidila. Sbarazzati di lei."

"Signore?" Hansel non poteva credere alle sue orecchie.

"Mi hai sentito! Adesso vai!"

"Per favore, no! È innocente," pianse Alexandra ma era inutile.

Hansel distolse lo sguardo da Alexandra e dal comandante ma il suo cuore lo tradì nel momento in cui uscì dall'unica casa nel mezzo del bosco. Gli altri mutaforma circondavano la casa, aspettando il prossimo ordine di Max. Cosa avrebbe fatto ad Alexandra?

Lei non aveva mai voluto sposare Max. Lui era più vecchio, molto più esperto e non aveva un solo osso amorevole nel corpo. Lei si era innamorata davvero e veniva punita per questo.

"Hansel, non puoi," Penny gli afferrò la spalla e lo fece perdere l'equilibrio.

"Fermati," sputò.

"È una bambina." Penny era scappata quando Max era troppo occupato con Alexandra per notare che lei era lì. "Non puoi ucciderla."

Hansel mise il bambino sul sedile posteriore e chiuse la portiera.

"Lo so, ma cosa posso fare?"

Penny pensò per un secondo. "La sua bisnonna. La nonna di Alexandra vive nel branco vicino. Si chiama Delaney ed è una donna ben conosciuta. Portala lì, Max non saprà mai che la bambina è sopravvissuta. Inventati una storia se devi, ma non evocare l'ira della dea della Luna."


Penny aveva ragione. Non valeva la pena evocare l'ira della dea della Luna. Guidò per due ore fino al Branco del Vapore Nero. Le relazioni tra il Branco Mistico erano pessime, quindi Hansel non pensava che Max avrebbe mai saputo della sua esistenza. La bambina non aveva nemmeno un nome per lui da cercare.

Chiese in giro per la casa della vecchia donna finché non arrivò a una piccola casetta vicino a un fiume. Era una casa con un'atmosfera accogliente. Si sentiva bene a lasciarla lì. Avrebbe avuto una casa e, cosa più importante, sarebbe vissuta.

Bussò alla porta di legno che recitava "benvenuti tutti". Pochi minuti dopo una donna con uno scialle sulle spalle e occhiali rotondi aprì la porta.

"Posso aiutarla, giovane?" chiese.

"Signora Delaney, ho la sua bisnipote. Deve vivere con lei. Nessuno deve sapere che l'ho portata qui."

La vecchia donna aggrottò le sopracciglia tristemente. "Mi dispiace. Ha sbagliato persona. Delaney è morta diversi mesi fa. Ero la sua migliore amica. Rimango qui per mantenere il posto fino all'arrivo di un parente."

Hansel si sentì sconfitto. E ora cosa avrebbe fatto? Non poteva tenerla!

"Grazie," disse gentilmente e si voltò.

"Aspetti!" chiamò la donna mentre si avvicinava alla macchina.

"Qual è il nome della bambina?"

Non ne aveva uno o non gli era stato detto. Aveva appena poche ore ed era già stata strappata dalle braccia della madre. Nessuno conosceva il padre o altrimenti Hansel avrebbe avuto un altro posto dove andare. Ora toccava a lui darle un nome e salvarla.

"Delanie. Si chiama Delanie."

La vecchia donna sorrise al bambino avvolto negli asciugamani.

"Posso prenderla. Questa è la sua casa più che la mia."

Hansel sospirò di sollievo. "Ricordi che nessuno deve sapere come è arrivata qui. Inventi una storia sui suoi genitori ma mantenga la verità per sé finché vivrà."

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