Twin Alphas: Desired (A BBW Paranormal Romance)

Twin Alphas: Desired

Copyright 2014 by Georgette St. Clair

This book is intended for readers 18 and older only, due to adult content.  It is a work of fiction.  All characters and locations in this book are products of the imagination of the author. No shifters were harmed during the creation of this book.

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A week-long festival full of hot Alpha werewolf twins who are sniffing around looking for their forever mates…what’s not to love? Plenty, if you’re Mackenzie Kaye, who was humiliated at last year’s festival when she was ditched by the Alpha pair she’d been yearning for.  But this year things are different – the Alpha pair have summoned her to their cabin, and now they’ll stop at nothing to claim her.   Why the sudden change of heart? What mysterious secret are they hiding, and who is trying to sabotage their budding relationship? 

Today’s the day – it’s Festival Time! All unclaimed human females aged 21 and over, and all Alpha Pairs aged 21 and over who have not yet claimed a mate, shall, by noon today, report to the festival grounds of their district for one week. Attendance is mandatory.

              The announcement scrolled across the bottom of the television screen, as it had been all week.  That was why Ajax hadn’t been watching any TV – but his brother always had it blaring his room. Ajax shot the big-screen TV a dirty look, grabbed the remote control off the dresser drawer, and clicked it off. Yeah, today was the day.  Like he needed to be reminded.

“Broken leg,” he suggested. His twin brother Barron, who was kneeling by the dresser packing, didn’t even bother to look up. He just shook his head. “Won’t work,” he said, laying a neatly folded shirt in the suitcase.

“I mean it. I will break my own leg so we don’t have to go. Both my legs. I’ll jump off the roof.”  Their Aunt Millicent hated it when he did that, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Barron, who’d grabbed several pairs of underwear and was re-folding them, , sighed and looked up at him with the expression of exasperation that he usually wore when talking to his five-minutes-younger identical twin. “I’ve got terrible news for you, Ajax. We’re werewolves.”

Ajax pretended to gasp in amazement. “Holy crap! That’s why I like my meat on the rare side!”

Barron stood up and shut the suitcase. “And, thanks to our awesome healing skills, your legs would reset themselves within the hour. And the Sentinels know that. So, as excuses go, it sucks pretty bad. Also it freaks Aunt Millicent out.”

Ajax scowled at him. “Speaking of things that suck, I can’t believe we have to sit there for a week watching the woman who should be our forever mate flirting with other wolves.”

“Better than the alternative.” Barron’s tone was cool. “Do we want her so badly we’re willing to risk her life? And maybe she won’t flirt with other wolves.”

“Of course she will,” Ajax said gloomily. “She’s gorgeous and perfect, and there will be wolves swarming all over her.” A picture of Mackenzie flashed through his mind. Her wicked smile that always looked like she was thinking about something naughty, her big, lush, figure, her generous hips, her soft rounded tummy, her full breasts…

Instead of answering, Barron grabbed the suitcase by the handle and walked out of the room, setting it by the front door.  Ajax followed behind. No point in delaying the inevitable.

“We’ll just avoid her. It’s one week. We can deal.” Barron’s tone was gruff.

“Easy for you to say,” Ajax grumbled. “You didn’t get a taste of paradise and then find out it could never be yours.”

Barron’s expression turned wistful. “Was it...amazing?”

Ajax rarely talked about that one magical afternoon in the woods with Mackenzie. It hurt too much to think of what they’d been forced to give up

“Yes. Better than amazing,” he said curtly.

He shook his head. “I can’t believe we haven’t been able to find out anything more. We’re screwed.”

“Hey, we tried. We eliminated a bunch of possibilities.  We’ll try again after this festival,” Barron said.

“Yeah, and she’ll probably be mated by the time we figure this out. If we even figure it out.”  Ajax saw Barron’s glance at the clock on the wall. Barron, unlike Ajax, was compulsively punctual. “Fine. I’ll get my suitcase,” he growled.

He stalked off to his room, grabbed his suitcase, and dragged it out to the front door.

“Is that how you packed?” Barron raised a disapproving eyebrow.

“Yeah? So?”

“You’ve got clothing literally hanging out of your suitcase. And it’s wrinkled.”

Ajax snorted with contempt. “It’s not like I’m looking to meet women, Barron. I don’t give a damn what I look like this coming week. If I could spray myself with female repellent, I would.”

“Just because we’re about to go on the vacation from hell is no reason to...oh, screw it. Let’s just go and get this over with.” Barron shook his head in exasperation.

He opened the door and stalked out to their car, suitcase in hand. Ajax followed him, slamming the door shut behind him. 

              The sun cast a warm glow over the horizon, its rays streaming through the towering Douglas Fir trees in the distance.  There was still a faint chill in the air but it promised to be a beautiful day, typical for Oregon, not too hot, not too cold.  The pack’s property was spread out across a broad area of forest, where they could shift and run and hunt whenever the urge seized them.  Their cabins and houses were tucked among silvery-gray quaking aspen and fragrant firs, and normally, just stepping out their front door and soaking in the beauty of their surroundings brought a smile to Ajax’s face. He hadn’t smiled much at all over the last year.

              Aunt Millicent and Uncle Michael were standing by their car waiting for them, the way they had for the past four years every time Ajax and Barron headed out to the festival.   This time, there was no air of hope or expectation, no cheery “Good hunting, boys!” which was the traditional joking sendoff to Alpha pairs heading off to search for their perfect mate.  Instead, a pall of gloom hung over all of them.

Ajax and Barron lived in a cabin on pack property;  Millicent and Michael, who was a beta wolf, still lived in the farmhouse where they’d raised Ajax and Barron, just a quarter mile up the road.

Millicent was their aunt on their mother’s side; she and her husband had taken Ajax and Barron in as toddlers, after first their mother, then their fathers and new stepmother, had died. She’d raised them like they were her own, and seemed to know when they were hurting. Like today.

She hugged Ajax. “I’m glad you didn’t try to do anything crazy to get out of the festival, like jump off the roof. I hate it when you do that.” Humans, who lacked the healing powers of werewolves, tended to be a little queasy about things like broken bones and gaping wounds.  Ajax had done it frequently as a young cub growing up – seeing who could get the creepiest injuries was a common werewolf cub thing,which always gave their human mothers conniption fits.  Their werewolf dads usually just laughed it off; they’d all done it themselves as cubs. 

Ajax flashed his brother a wicked grin. “Well, Barron suggested it, but I knew it would upset you, so I said no – ouch!” His brother punched him in the arm. Hard.

“Now, Barron,” Aunt Millicent said, shooting Barron a reproving look. Barron shot Ajax a glower that promised that Ajax would have some bones that would need resetting after all – as soon as they were out of Aunt Millicent’s sight. Ajax smirked at his brother, then glanced at the car and sighed.  It would be a five-hour drive to the festival grounds in Northern California.

“I’m not looking forward to this,” he said.

“Don’t look so glum,” Uncle Michael said. “We’ll come up with something. We’re not giving up. The whole time you’re at the festival, we’ll be investigating.”  He patted Barron on the shoulder as he opened the car door for him.

“Nobody from our Dads’ former pack is speaking? Did you remind them it’s Festival week?” Ajax slung his suitcase into the back seat.

“Of course, not that they need reminding.  They’re all still claiming ignorance or changing the subject. Those few that even take our phone calls, that is” Millecent’s forehead wrinkled with distress and she wrung her hands.

“Thanks for trying, anyway. We’ll see you in a week.” Ajax climbed into the passenger side, shutting the door. He and Barron had gotten exactly the same results that their aunt and uncle had. All roads led to nowhere.             

              They could be with any woman they wanted – individually. They could never be with a woman together, and start the bonding process with a woman.

              There would be women swarming all over the festival grounds, beautiful women, sexy women, many of them looking for a quick fling with an Alpha before they headed back home.  Sure, he could drown his sorrows in a sea of eager flesh, but he didn’t want that.  Mackenzie. He wanted Mackenzie. And if he couldn’t have her, he didn’t want anyone.

By rights, they both should have been able to be with her. They should have been able to claim her, bond with her, and have her with them forever.

But some things were never meant to be.

It was late afternoon, and a seemingly never-ending stream of women poured into the common area of the women’s quarters. 

Mackenzie had been assigned to Building 11.  She’d be rooming with three other women. It was a nice room, big and spacious, with windows opening out to a view of the mountains,  and soft fluffy comforters in cheerful floral prints. 

Of course, the hope of most of the women was that they wouldn’t be spending much time in their rooms; they’d be out flirting, partying, and hanging out with hot Alphas. 

That was fine with Mackenzie; she’d have the room all to herself. She’d brought books, watercolors, brushes, and paper. She planned to spend the festival hiding out and sulking, emerging from her room only long enough to grab free meals at the cafeteria.

The air was thick with the smell of a thousand perfumes, and the happy hum of conversation.  Mackenzie slumped back in her chair and wished there was a way to put herself in a coma for seven days straight.  Where was a good Mage when you needed one? And how much would a spell like that cost?

“Isn’t this exciting? This is my first year. I’m so excited. What could possibly be more fun than

this?” Vita gushed. She was an elfish little thing with a dark pixie cut.

“Hm. Stabbing my own eyes out with a pencil?” Mackenzie muttered.

“What?” Vita glanced at her with a startled look

“Nothing!” Mackenzie straightened up in her seat and pasted a bright smile on her face. The Alpha Claiming Festival was tons of fun – for most people. There was no reason for her to ruin anyone else’s good time.

“I’m going to go listen to the bands. How do I look? Do you want to come with me? Do I look okay?” Vita twirled around, the hem of her dress flaring out. She wore a sundress with a black-and-white checked print, and big sunflowers on it. Her necklace had a big sunflower dangling from it.

It reflected her sunny personality perfectly.

If Mackenzie had dressed to reflect her mood, she’d be wearing all black head to toe, with maybe some skulls and crossbones adorning her outfit.