Page 15 of Alpha Hunt

This wouldn’t have been my first choice in working through things with the headstrong she-wolf, but I’ve taken great care not to make waves since I’ve been here. If Callum says we have to do it, then I’m in. Aside from all this shit with Casey, I’ve made it my business to toe the line. It’s been a long time since I found any place that feels as much like home as Steel Lakes does. I don’t plan to let that go just yet.

I listen to Callum as he continues to lay down the rules. Finally, he takes a stance between us, both arms raised. He drops them abruptly.

“Fight!” he says sharply, then steps out of the ring swiftly.

My gaze flicks over to Casey, her lithe form encased in skintight lycra shorts and a clingy tank. The fabric strains against the swell of her breasts, the curves of her hips. I force my eyes away before she catches me staring.

“Eyes up here, Alpen,” she taunts, a cocky smirk playing on those full lips.

I ignore the quip. I refuse to be baited. Clearing my throat, I settle into a fighting stance, feet planted firmly on the mat. “Just worried about doing permanent damage, Stone.”

She scoffs, rolling frosty blue eyes. “Please. I’m more man than you’ll ever be.”

The words are designed to sting, but I can’t help the grin that tugs at my lips. Her fiery spirit draws me in despite myself. We circle each other slowly, sizing one another up. I could easily overpower her with brute strength, but something holds me back from unleashing my full force.

Maybe I should be using another skill set. A whisper in the back of my mind urges me to take a peek, to see what’s really going on behind those gorgeous eyes. I resist the temptation at first, knowing how dangerous it is to let my secret abilities run unchecked. But the curiosity soon becomes too strong to ignore.

Inhaling deeply, I allow the barriers to drop for just a moment. Casey’s surface thoughts filter through, a jumbled mess of conflicting emotions. Confusion, definitely, but also…longing? A yearning for something more, buried deep beneath layers of bravado and self-reliance.

The realization hits me like a sledgehammer. She wants what I want: a connection, someone to belong to – something more than herself. The shock of it leaves me so surprised that I don’t see the fist that comes out of nowhere.

I barely have time to register the blow before Casey’s knuckles connect with my jaw. White-hot pain explodes through my face as I stagger back a step. She doesn’t let up, pressing her advantage with a flurry of kicks and punches.

“Go, Stone!” someone yells from the sidelines. I don’t bother looking to see who it is; I’m too focused on the bundle of energy bobbing and weaving in front of me.

I shake off the haze just in time to block a high kick aimed at my head. Her flexibility is impressive as she transitions smoothly into an intricate combination – jab, cross, hook. I deflect each strike, my admiration for her skills growing with each failed attempt to land a blow.

“Get it together, Alpen,” she snarls breathlessly when I take a slightly unsteady step back to avoid another kick to the head. Her chest is now heaving. “This is pathetic.”

I respond by sweeping her legs out from under her, grinning when she goes down; she’s up again in a flash, calf muscles flexing as she bobs on the springy mat. “Need a breather?” I ask.

“Screw you,” she snaps, raising her fists in front of her face and glaring at me between them. “You hit like a girl.”

I snort out a laugh. There’s something strangely refreshing about facing her down like this. Maybe Callum was right. Get it out of our systems.

Although now that I know what’s driving her, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to see her the same way again.

Fuck, she’s beautiful.

Sweat beads along her brow, tendrils of auburn hair escaping her ponytail to cling to her flushed skin. She’s captivating in her intensity, utterly focused on the fight. I find myself momentarily entranced, distracted enough that when she barrels toward me and hits me square in the chest with her shoulder, the force of her momentum knocks me backward. She loses her footing and goes down with me.

We hit the mat hard, the air leaving my lungs in a whoosh. Before I can recover, Casey pounces, straddling my hips. I twist as she tries to aim a fist at me, wincing on her behalf as her knuckles hit the mat where my head had been.

Crap. She’s really got it in for me.

The small huddle of spectators let out raucous whoops and shouts of encouragement as I bridge her off me, rolling her onto the floor. She twists and writhes as she breaks free, our limbs entangled, skin sweat-slicked. I know I can overpower her easily, but somehow…I don’t want to.

“Give up, you dick!” she grits out, straining against me.

“Why? You had enough?” I’m out of breath but not from exertion.

“In your dreams, you asshole!” Her muscles flex as she battles to best me. It’s a losing battle. The only way she can get the upper hand is through skill – which she has in spades. But strength? Not gonna happen. I outweigh her so completely that I feel guilty every time I land on her.

After what feels like a lifetime – but is probably only fifteen minutes – I know it’s enough. We’re both equally fit, but we can’t keep this up indefinitely; I’m finding her closeness unnerving.

“This is over,” I grind out. I twist smoothly, rolling her onto her back. I’m flat out along the length of her body, pinning her wrists above her head.

“I’ll say when it’s over!” She says it with conviction, but there’s no denying who’s in control right now. But there’s more to this moment. So much more. I know there are more shouts and rowdy laughter from around the edges of the ring, but I’m barely aware of it. All I can think of is this warm woman who’s pressed against me. We’re face-to-face, noses nearly touching, her chest heaving. Without thinking, I inhale deeply, feeling my nostrils flare.

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