Alpha Betrayed: A Dark Shifter Romance

ford

I've always loved the water.

As a boy, I'd jump in the creek on our property while there were still ice chunks in it from the winter thaw. Come summer, I knew every pond and swimming hole within a five-mile radius and spent the seemingly endless days riding my bike between my favorites, my hair always a little bit damp. When Mom said we were moving to Washington to live with her new husband, it was the loss of the water I mourned the most.

My father had been dead for years and our connections with his pack had faded. I was excited by the thought of making new shifter friends my age but putting those swimming holes in the rearview ripped at something inside of me.

They weren't just a way to spend a day. They were my refuge from the world, a place where the tears Alphas weren't supposed to cry were easily disguised, and a solid source of free snacks. By the time I was six, I was a pro at catching fish as both a wolf and a boy and knew every edible plant that grew near the water.

And then the helicopter my new stepfather sent to collect us at the airport touched down on an island in the sea, and I knew the universe was looking out for me.

This was even better than a pond or a creek.

The sea was wild and beautiful and alive in a way I didn't realize water could be until my first cliff diving session with my new friends.

I plunged into the ocean, felt the powerful currents buffeting my body, and came face-to-face with a harbour porpoise and her baby. The baby zipped around my torso, rubbing against my bare skin, while its mother chattered a scolding in a language the shifter part of me could almost understand.

I still remember the wonder I felt as my jaw dropped, and the sea flooded in.

By the time I broke the surface, I was coughing up a lungful of saltwater, but I didn't care. I rode the next wave to shore, stretching my body long to coast on top of the foam, feeling like I'd finally come home.

For the rest of my teen years, I spent every spare second that I wasn't in school or training to be part of Hammer's army as close to the water as possible. Swimming in the spring and summer, fishing in the fall, and stealing a boat to sail over to Seattle in the winter before we left for the mountains, relishing the cold spray on my face.

Those two years in the fighting pits were the longest I'd ever spent away from the element that's always called to my soul. When I realized Lost Moon University was on the coast, I was excited to be going back to the ocean, where I belonged.

I never imagined the sea could be anything but a source of strength for me. I'm not one of those arrogant assholes who doesn't realize Mother Ocean hands out bitch slaps as often as hugs. I respect the ocean, fear it when necessary, and am one of the strongest swimmers I know.

The thought that I might die by drowning never crossed my mind.

But now, as pain explodes across the side of my neck, flowing down to electrify my left front paw, I realize how stupid I've been. I should have remembered that I'm not actually half fish, the way my friends always teased growing up, and that land predators don't always stay on land.

My muzzle drops and saltwater floods in, but this time there's no baby porpoise or wonder to blame. It's the pure agony of the powerful jaws shaking me back and forth as we sink beneath the waves that has me trying to breathe six feet under.

Teeth dig into the scruff of my neck, but there's nothing I can do to fight back. Writhing for my freedom only shoves the fangs deeper, tearing holes in my already ravaged flesh.

Giving up on twisting free, I swipe frantically at the water with my paws, doing my best to reverse our trajectory. If I can get back to the surface, I can spit out the seawater, suck in a breath, and at least have a shot of turning the tables. I paddle as hard as I can, but it's no use.

The wolf on me is massive. Even if my left paw weren't paralyzed by pain, there's not much chance I'd be able to pull us both through the water without a floatation device. My only hope is to shift and pray my transformation dislodges my attacker's fangs long enough for me to get a human arm around his neck and squeeze.

If I shift, I'll be kicked out of Lost Moon for violating the terms of the trial.

But if I don't, I'm going to die.

I can feel my heart thumping harder, but slower, and an increasingly urgent burning in my lungs. I have about thirty seconds left to fight for my life, and I'd better make the most of it.

If not, Juliet will have to watch my body wash up onshore this afternoon, along with the usual seaweed and pretty shells.

Juliet...

I can't leave her alone here, in this refuge that isn't a refuge, with enemies everywhere and her murderous father still on the loose and unpunished for his sins. She won't survive without me. If this piece of shit kills me, he'll be taking out both of us, and I'm not about to let that happen.

I give up swimming and start to slip out of my fur, but my attacker chooses that moment to thrash his head from side to side with such violence that a piece of my shoulder tears away. I howl in pain and the water in my mouth floods into my lungs. I start to choke and cough, but with every lung-clearing convulsion of my chest, more water floods in after, until my racing heart thunders in my ears and the pressure building inside me becomes too much to bear.

My eyes shut, and my thoughts go soft. I'm dimly aware that the teeth at my neck are gone, but it's too late for it to make any difference.

The blackness is closing in and I'm too weak to pull to the surface.

I go limp, abandoning myself to the sea just as a bright, burning light flashes behind my closed lids.

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Juliet

In my phoenix form, I dive deeper, deeper, until I'm afraid I've missed him somewhere in the dark waves.

The sun is still too low on the horizon for any light to penetrate the ocean gloom and I have no idea if I'm headed in the right direction.

I can't smell blood or follow a trail underwater.

I'm panicking, knowing I don't have long to pull Ford out of here alive, when my feathers start to glow. But this isn't the rosy, pink pleasure glow I've experienced in my human form. This is a bright red and gold light that cuts through the darkness like a hundred

arrows.

I'm suddenly an underwater sun, with rays exploding in every direction from my wings.

I spin, searching the waves, and spot Ford's limp wolf form almost instantly. He's sinking deeper with every passing second, blood streaming from a horrific wound at his neck.

I surge toward him with a pull of my wings and snatch at his front leg with my claws. He flinches and his eyelids flicker, but don't open.

Still, the small response is enough to make my heart leap.

He's still alive. I can still save him.

I just have to get him out of the water and hope he still has the strength to shift. If he slips into his human form, he'll be able to heal at least some of the damage, hopefully enough to keep him from bleeding out.

I flap my wings harder, but I'm only able to lift him a few inches toward the surface before he starts to sink again. His wolf is heavy, and my wings weren't designed for moving efficiently underwater.

But if I could tuck a human arm around him and kick with my legs...

I shift so fast that the sudden shock of the cold water against my skin nearly makes me gasp. Thankfully, I recover quickly enough to keep my lips sealed and my breath held as I reach for Ford.

I pin his warm body tight to mine and kick with everything I'm worth, grateful for every second I spent in the ocean as a child.

I'm a strong swimmer and no stranger to choppy water. I'm able to get Ford's head above water and keep it there even as the waves buffet us up and down, but it quickly becomes apparent that simply breaking the surface isn't going to be enough. I have to get the blockage out of his lungs.

Shifting onto my back to buoy his weight with my floating body, I make a fist and slam it into his ribs.

"Breathe," I shout, dimly aware of other students swimming past us, though none of them stop to help. I thump his ribs again and again, willing the ocean to come streaming from his muzzle. "Breathe, Ford! F*****g breathe!"

My heart races and the backs of my eyes begin to sting, but I don't have time to waste on tears. I have to get him to shore, where I'll have better leverage to pump the water from his lungs. I can turn him on his belly and pound his ribs like a toddler or maybe one of the teachers will see that we're in trouble and send the medics out to the seawall to meet us.

They don't want students dying on their watch, especially not because they were attacked by another student in the middle of a trial.

F*****g Beck.

I'm going to kill him for this. Even if Ford survives, I'm going to rip him limb from limb and incinerate the pieces.

I don't know if it's the thought of fire or the rage boiling in my veins, but my skin is suddenly hot enough to make the ocean steam around me and Ford twitch in my arms. Hope clutching at the back of my throat, I will more fire into my bones, until my cheeks are blazing in the cool air and Ford's fur begins to warm against my chest.

He whimpers and twitches against me once more before his ribs contract in a wrenching cough. Water pours from his mouth and his eyes fly open, sending relief flooding through me.

"You're okay," I say, holding him tight as I start to pull toward the seawall. "I've got you. Just relax."

He whimpers again but doesn't try to squirm free or shift.

It's all the confirmation I need that his injury is as bad as it looks.

My relief is pierced by another wave of rage, ensuring I leave a trail of steam behind me as I swim for the seawall. I reach it a few minutes later and thankfully, before I can worry about how I'm going to lift Ford up onto the stone alone, Layla is there, reaching into the waves.

"Push from his bottom," she calls out over the crash of the sea against the barrier. "I'll lift his front legs."

"Watch his left side," I shout back as I shift my grip. "He's hurt."

Layla curses beneath her breath as she hauls Ford onto the slick stones, swearing louder as several students from Lupine jump over them on their way to the obstacle course at the end of the barrier. "What the f**k? Can't you see he's hurt? And he's one of yours, a*****e!"

"Don't think so," one douchebag calls back, laughing with his friends. "We don't claim Variant-loving scum."

Layla turns wide eyes to me as I climb out of the water. "What do we do? He's still bleeding. Real bad."

"He has to shift," I say, leaning over Ford to catch his gaze. "Do you hear me, Ford? You have to shift. If you don't, there's no way we're going to stop the bleeding in time."

His front paw swipes sluggishly through the air before he lies still again, the only movement the shallow rise and fall of his ribs as he pants for air.

I look back toward the beach, but the medic wave runner is still onshore. Even if it left right now, chances are it would be too late. I whip my focus back to Ford, leaning down until my face is inches from his. "Help isn't coming, Ford. You have to help yourself. And me. Because I can't lose you. I can't. I f*****g refuse to let that happen."

His beautiful eyes tighten around the edges, and I swear I can feel the regret flowing from him in waves.

He's giving up. He's going to leave me.

The realization makes tears explode from my eyes to stream down my face, leaving more steam behind.

"No," I say, fisting his wet chest fur in my hands. "You can't do this. You can't leave me. You promised you wouldn't. You said you wanted to be my person, my partner. And partners don't leave. They fight." I suck in a liquid breath, blinking through the steam. "Please, Ford. Fight for me. Please. I need you. I don't want to stay here without you."

And I don't just mean Lost Moon.

I mean earth, life.

I don't want to live without this man, a realization I'm sure would scare me if I had any room for that kind of fear right now. But I don't, all I have room for is pure stubbornness.

I'm going to will Ford back to life. I refuse to take no for an answer. This isn't the way it ends for us.

Us...

The thought gives me an idea.

Ford might not feel up to fighting for his own life right now, but he swore he'd fight for mine.

"It was Beck," I say, giving Ford a little shake. "Beck was the one who attacked you."

His eyes open wider, anger flickering in their depths.

"I saw it," I continue, jabbing an arm to the left. "He's probably lying in wait on the obstacle course right now, ready to take me out, too. Are you going to let that happen? Are you going to let some spoiled, evil, entitled piece of shit take out both of Zion's Alphas? Is that how you want to go out, Ford? Because I sure as hell don't. I want to finish this trial, get back to campus, and make him pay. We can do it. Together. I know we can." I fight another wave of tears as I grit out, "You just need to man the f**k up and shift, a*****e. Because if you die on me right now, I'm going to track you down in the afterlife and make you so sorry you made me care about you this much."

Ford growls, a sound that makes my heart lift even before his hind legs begin to lengthen.

"That's right," I say, moving back to give him some space, Layla beside me. "Get pissed, get up, and let's get even."

It's the slowest shift I've ever witnessed, and fairly disturbing to watch-especially when Ford's bottom half is human and his top still mostly wolf-but eventually a fully human man lies beside me, and he's no longer bleeding profusely.

I'm consumed by a wave of gratitude so intense, I can't stop myself from throwing myself on top of him and hugging him tight. "You're okay. Thank God, you're okay."

"I'm not," he says, his voice weak and rough. "I'm pissed."

I swipe at the tears still streaming from my eyes, doing my best to regain control. "Good. Use that. We still have to get through the obstacle course. They haven't sent the medic and I don't think they're going to."

"I can't," he says, rolling fully onto his back with a wince. "I don't think I can even get on my feet by myself, Jules. I lost...a lot of blood."

"That's why we're going to help you," Layla says, filling my chest with another warm rush of gratitude. "Get his left side, J. I'll get his right."

We tuck ourselves under Ford's arms and leverage him to his feet. He sways for a moment, but eventually recovers his balance and stands up straighter. But it's when he curses at a panther girl shoving past us on the wall, telling her to, "Watch where you're going, a*****e," that I know he's going to make it.

We're going to make it.

And then we're going to make Beck pay with his life.