Her Alphas Read Online Free PDF Page A

knew that Paul could give her something he couldn’t—love
and commitment.
    An unexpected perk of breaking their personal contract was
that Charlene had become an outstanding production assistant. She was now the
glue holding The Dog Talker program together. From sourcing stories to
schmoozing dog owners to keeping Alex on schedule, her skills were unmatched.
Alex regretted that she’d spent the first year on staff as little more than an
outlet for his out-of-control needs.
    If Charlene had ever suspected that there was something
different about Alex, she didn’t let on. He was confident she’d never be able
to guess exactly how different he was—not in her worse nightmares. And now she was
starring in his nightmares—as the oversexed but highly-competent voice
of reason.
    As for the other part of the dream—the part where Alex
killed a deer that morphed into Gwen—he could only guess at the meaning. As
soon as he got back to Talbot, he would consult Jeremiah Morgan, the pack’s
shaman. Alex wished Morgan would finally give in and get a cellphone. Of
course, with no electricity in that old cabin of his, he wouldn’t be able to
charge it anyway.
    In the meantime, Alex tried to make sense of the omen. He
always worried about Gwen when he was in L.A. filming. Even though his people were
bound by pack law to protect her, werewolves were unpredictable. Knowing a law
and abiding by it could be two very different things.
    For all the centuries-old rules and regulations the pack had
in place, Gwen was still the variable. She was headstrong and impulsive
and—despite all evidence to the contrary—she seemed to think she was invincible.
    He’d first met her when she and that couch-potato dog of
hers were under attack by a cougar. Instead of rolling into a ball and covering
the back of her neck as she should have, Gwen had charged at the big cat,
waving her arms and screaming at it to get the fuck off her dog. Alex had
arrived on the scene seconds later and, as far as she was concerned, he’d saved
her.
    Someday he’d have to explain to her that the cougar was
bound by the same law as his pack and, in fact, wasn’t a cat at all. But that was
a discussion for another day. Right now, he was focused on making sure she was
okay and easing his mind.
    * * * * *
    Alex guided the vintage Corvette onto the highway and tilted
his head to work the kinks from his neck. Once he’d pulled his car out of the
long-term parking ramp at the Minneapolis airport, Alex had voice-commanded the
wireless to dial Gwen’s number. He’d spent an obscene amount outfitting the
cherry ’72 Corvette with state-of-the-art electronics, but he had plenty of
money. It was patience he was short on.
    After the first ring, he cleared his throat and concentrated
on keeping his tone light. After the fourth ring, he started tapping the
steering wheel. “C’mon, Gwen, pick up.”
    When the ringtone shortened, indicating that he was about to
be rolled over to voicemail, Alex shook his head. “End call,” he instructed the
wireless system.
    Shit!
    Alex ran a hand through his hair. Why was he so agitated? Was
it the moon or something else? “Call Sergei,” he instructed.
    The Russian picked up on the first ring. “Hello, Alex.”
    Trying to disguise his rising panic, Alex replied with what
he hoped was nonchalance. “Hey, Markov. How’re you doin’? Have you seen Gwen?”
    There was a long pause and Alex realized that his
predecessor could read his mood—even though the conversation was bouncing off
satellites positioned high above the earth.
    “I have not seen her, friend. I am driving the road. I have just
left the livestock market in Seidel. Is everything well?”
    Alex did a quick mental calculation. The town of Seidel was just
over an hour from Talbot. Markov was hundreds of miles closer to home than Alex
was. “Oh, yeah, everything’s fine. I just got in from L.A. and Gwen’s not
picking up. No big deal, but if you don’t mind checking on