Bound to Kill
Chapter 1

Alexa

I swiftly travel down a dank, dark alley, keeping my footsteps light as I follow the two figures up ahead. A shriek of pain echoes off the walls, making me break into a run. Piercing red eyes zone in on me; the vampire I hunt retracts his fangs from the woman’s throat while I capture his attention.

He smiles wickedly, fangs dripping blood. “Don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt someone’s meal, wolf?”

Smiling back, I ask, “Where are my manners?” I make a show of looking around for them while moving closer. “Oh, here they are,” and smash my fist into his face, sending him spiralling through the air. He lands agilely on both feet.

“Run!” The word barely leaves my lips before the girl flees the alley as quickly as her five-inch stilettos allow.

The bloodsucker’s red eyes glint with excitement as he scans me from head to toe, taking in my all-black leather jumpsuit. By the perverted look on his face, he likes the look.

“That wasn’t very nice,” he whines.

My head tilts as I shrug. “Bite me.”

“If you insist.”

The vamp runs faster than my eyes can track, slamming into my body with the force of a Mack truck. Shooting pains course through my skull as my head bounces off the cobblestone wall. My ears ring, and my vision blurs; blood trickles down the side of my face. I breathe through the pain, trying to regain my faculties. The bloodsucker trails his nose up my neck, inhaling deeply, then slowly flicks his disgusting tongue up my jaw, lapping up the blood, making my stomach churn.

“I do enjoy playing with my food,” he hums. “You taste as good as you look.”

My wolf rages to be let loose, but this is my favourite bodycon. I slam my head into his nose, enjoying the crunching sound as it breaks. He roars before biting me viciously, the sharp sting of his fangs making me cry out. I reach for the stake holstered to my thigh. “Suck on this!” Then plunge it into his back, piercing his heart. Surprise crosses his features before he bursts into flames, leaving a pile of ash at my feet. After sheathing my stake, I start to whistle ‘Another One Bites The Dust’ and exit the alley, satisfied there is one less monster in the world.

My name is Alexa. I’m a broken, bloodthirsty, lone wolf and hired assassin for the Supernatural Enforcer Bureau. It’s my job to remove evil Supes from the world, one monster at a time.

My fingers tap on the steering wheel as I stop at yet another red light. Come on. Come on. A few minutes later, I park in the empty lot where my handler likes to meet to give my assignment. A glance at my phone informs me I’m ten minutes late. Just great! This asshole’s mood will be worse than usual. I exit my car, cross the lot and join him on the bench.

“You’re late!”

“Traffic.” I match his curt tone.

Sir laughs-a-naught passes me a brown envelope. “The target is the Shadow Creek Pack Alpha, Darius Clark.”

“Alpha? Is he turning people? Running a trafficking operation?” I enquire while pulling out heavily redacted documents.

He stares at me coldly. “That information is privileged. Just do your job!”

The SEB always give me a cause for the hit; why not this time? Frustrated at the lack of intel in the file, I pry for more information. “I need to know I’m not taking out an innocent. What crime did he commit?” I have a code. That’s what separates me from the monsters I hunt.

“He’s no innocent. We have done our due diligence,” he assures me. “Your flight leaves at 0800 hours. Don’t mess this one up.” He stands, marking the end of our meeting.

Yeah, fuck you very much too, Agent.

I stare at my mark’s photo as my handler silently disappears like a thief in the night. Alpha Darius is striking. Handsome, in a way that makes you pause to take in his features: six and a half feet tall with piercing dark eyes that draw you in, a square jawline with three-day stubble and dark spiked hair with a low fade. He looks strong, powerful and confident.

Damn, he’s sexy. What a waste. I wonder what he did to get on the SEB’s radar.

The following night, I land in Scotland, travel to Balloch—Shadow Creek Pack territory and spend every waking hour surveilling the Alpha and Beta from afar. Everything so far seems above board. The only thing I can say against the Alpha is he’s with a different woman every night, but most unmated wolves are. We have high sex drives; casual sex is our jam, definitely not a killable offence.

I need to get closer to the pack. Approaching Beta Hunter is my best bet, or better yet, letting him come to me.

After slipping into a sleek black dress that defines all my assets, I Uber to Dukes, the bar the pack frequents. Wooden tables are neatly spread out in the main bar. There’s a pool table at one end and a VIP section at the other. Through the double doors is a smaller bar and dance floor. To blend in, I have a few drinks and dance a little, quickly catching the Beta’s eye. He has a Rege-Jean Page look going on, masculine and beautiful. I give him a flirtatious look and reel him in like a fish.

He follows me to the bar. “I’m not a dancer, but I’ll make an exception for you.”

“I’m all danced out.”

“At least let me buy you a drink.”

I glance at my Apple watch. “I’m about to call it a night, maybe some other time.”

“You’re breaking my heart here. Just one drink?” he pleads.

I can’t help but laugh at his wolf-pup eyes. “Fine. I’ll have a bourbon on the rocks.”

The thing about wolves is we have an inbuilt polygraph. With audio sensory enhanced enough to hear the grass grow, we can detect the slightest change in heart rate. And our sight is so sharp the slightest body movement is perceptible. Some wolves can even smell a lie. I’ve been through extensive training to control my tells, but it is always best to stay as close to the truth as possible when the mark is a wolf. So, I give him the nickname my dad called me instead of an alias.

“I’m Lexi. It’s nice to meet you...” I pause while extending my hand.

He plants a gentle kiss on the back. “Hunter. The pleasure is mine.”

Hairs on the nape of my neck rise as I feel beady eyes on me. I glance over my left shoulder to find the Alpha glaring at us from the VIP area. My breath hitches. His photo did not do him justice. The crisp black shirt he wears hugs his muscular frame, and intricate tattoos travel the length of his arms, disappearing under his sleeves. He oozes dominance, and every woman in the bar can’t take their eyes off him.

“So, you’re from the States. What brings you tae sunny Scotland?” Hunter asks. His accent isn’t as thick as I expected, but the occasional slang word pops up, and he speaks faster than I’m used to.

Returning my focus to the Beta, I give a version of the truth. “There’s a guy back home I can’t stand,” I reveal, visualising my handler. “I guess you could say it’s his fault I’m here. Anywhere far from him is a blessing.” Distracting him from asking more questions, I give him a sultry smile and change the subject. There’s no need to hide that I know he’s a shifter; we can sense one another’s beasts. After confessing I’m a lone wolf, he invites me to meet the pack. They’re all very welcoming—except Darius—who acts like I just took a dump in his swimming pool. His eyes burn into me. When I meet his gaze, his jaw is tense, and his nostrils flare.

He’s even friendlier than my handler. Inwardly, I roll my eyes while returning his dominant stare. Hunter reclaims my attention, telling me about the time he got so drunk he passed out and woke up naked in a canoe in the middle of Loch Lomond.

“I was literally up shit creek without a paddle,” he shakes his head while chuckling at the memory.

I genuinely laugh out loud; wolves hate to swim. It sounds like the pack is full of jokers. Hunter and I click. The conversation flows easily, full of flirting and laughter. He’s a nice guy. I enjoy his company but feel Darius’ displeasure the entire time.

While Hunter heads to the bar, the Alpha finally approaches me. “Where you from?” His shoulders are tense, and his ever-present glare burns into me.

The intimidation attempt might make a weaker wolf tuck tail, but I’m broken; it excites me. Darius usually has his next lay lined up by now. Maybe that’s why he’s so uptight. Dry spell, I wonder. I try to contain my glee, reminding myself if I piss him off, I’ll never be able to infiltrate the pack.

“Do you growl at all the girls, or am I special?” I ask, with my eyebrow arched.

We stare each other down. Darius’ forehead is creased, fists clenched, and lip curled. His rage is palpable, and dammit, it turns me on. Hunter interrupts our showdown with a tray of shots, much to my disappointment.

“Drink up,” he orders.

We chin-chin before knocking back something spicy with a hint of cinnamon. Then Darius makes an aggressive exit without a word or a backward glance.

Rude much? God, he is an asshole.

With him gone, my fieldwork is over. “I’m heading out, too. It was nice meeting you all.”

Hunter wraps me in a hug like an old friend. “Come by the packhouse tomorrow; we can hang out.”

“I don’t think the Alpha would like that,” I reply, attempting to appear meek.

“He’s not usually like that. You caught him on a bad day. Come over, and I’ll show you around,” he persists.

After a pause, I agree and give him the number to my burner. Hunter texts me the address (which I already have, but I’m keeping up appearances), and then I head to my hotel for some much-needed sleep.

Traffic is quiet, so I arrive at the packhouse around lunchtime. The white-bricked estate is massive, surrounded by hundreds of acres of woods for wolves to roam. Behind the Alpha’s mansion are smaller homes for the mated wolves in the pack. I climb the stairs and ring the bell. Surprisingly, Darius opens the door.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, with a look of disdain.

“I’m fine, thanks! How are you doing?”

Darius prepares to slam the door in my face.

“Alright! I’m waving the white flag.”Play nice to get closer. “I want to ask if you’ll allow me to join your pack?” It takes effort, but I look at him kindly, hopeful.

“Why?” His face is devoid of emotion.

A man of few words.

“I’m new around here. And I enjoyed spending time with you all last night. My wolf craves that connection.” It’s not a lie; she does crave the familial bond. Wolves don’t cope well in solitude. How I’ve survived this long without going feral is a miracle.

“No!”

No?

Keep calm.

Don’t lose it.

Play nice.

So this is what the Agent meant when he told me not to screw this up.

My tolerance for this overbearing, growly, stuck-up asshole snaps. “What is your problem? Did I offend your fragile ego by not bowing down to you?” He stares at me impassively as I continue my rant. “Do you want me to beg? Does begging get the big bad wolf off?”

His lips crash against mine in a searing kiss. For a moment, I’m too stunned to react. But then I kiss him back, just as aggressively. It’s all tongues and bites, a battle for dominance. As he pulls me closer, I feel his erection against my stomach. More surprisingly, I can feel his emotions: anger, confusion, lust, resentment.

Do all pack members feel their Alpha like this? Even if they do, I’m not a part of his pack.

All too quickly, he ends the kiss. We glare at each other, panting heavily. I’m hot, my thong is a sticky mess, and I’m a ballhair away from humping his leg.

I hate him. But I. Want. Him.

“The answer is no because you are my mate. And I will be tied down by no one,” he roars before slamming the door in my face.

Well, shit!

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