The Alpha's Revenge Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Bonus Book 1

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Bonus Book 2

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Bonus Book 3

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  The Alpha’s Revenge

  (Book 6 of Werewolves of Boulder Junction)

  Martha Woods

  Contents

  Martha Woods

  The Alpha’s Revenge

  FREE Gift For You!

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Untitled

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Join Martha’s Reading Group!

  Bonus Book 1

  The Vampire’s Desire

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Bonus Book 2

  Escaping the Demon's Trap

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Bonus Book 3

  Mysteries of a Vampire

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  The Alpha’s Revenge

  Book Six Of The Werewolves Of Boulder Junction Series

  Martha Woods

  © 2018 Martha Woods

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  For permissions contact: [email protected]

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  Chapter 1

  Boulder Junction was a bleak place to live right now. A black veil had fallen over the town and refused to lift, a month having passed in seemingly no time at all since Skylar Conway-Moore's death. The everyday resident felt her absence, many them having been eagerly looking forward to her business opening up, a much-needed spark in the town economy. But those hopes had been killed just as she had, forcing everyone to address the sudden feeling of emptiness that the days possessed. No one had anything bad to say about her, from the housewives that roamed the streets on their Saturday morning walks, to the habitual drunks that crowded the local bars every night. Skylar was a woman who was loved by many, and respected by all.

  So, if she effected complete strangers in this way, one could feel their heart breaking for how those that truly knew her were taking their loss.

  As a group they were still together, their support of one another in this trying time was absolute and nothing was ever going to change that. As individuals however, that was a completely different story. If there was something pressing, if Leah was on the edge of breaking down, if Liam woke up in the middle of the night screaming again then they were there for them. Any other time... It was just too painful to be near each other with such a yawning chasm in their group, they were trying, and maybe they were getting better, but that pain was undeniable.

  Liam was taking it the worst out of all of them, each moment that he spent in his house surrounded by memories of her, pictures that stared down with such happiness that it hurt, their bed still carrying her scent even after a month. Everywhere he looked he couldn't help but be overwhelmed by that incredible, crushing guilt, guilt that he should have been able to do something to help his wife in her time of need. But instead he had been forced to lay there on the ground in pain, as helpful in her fight as their new born child, watching helplessly as the love of his life fought and died to protect him and those that they loved.

  The only thing keeping him relatively sane was the responsibility that he knew he had to live up to, it being his duty to raise their child to become strong, to shower her with all the love and care that he was denied, to be the father that Abigail deserved. He would not become like his own father, twisted by evil beyond all recognition, or like Skylar's, dying in front of his family wracked with a lifetime of guilt. He was a Conway, an Alpha, and even if he could hardly get out of bed in the morning without wishing his eyes had never opened, he would be damned if he even entertained the thought of abandoning his responsibilities. To do so would be to shame his wife's memory, and that was something he could not abide. So he would force himself out of bed every morning, sometimes needing to slam his head into the wall just to stop the doubt creeping in, and he would go care for his daughter. Abigail was only a month old, and yet she grew more and more beautiful every day, dark hair already starting to cover the top of her head and tickling her ears. She had her father's hair, and his eyes, but every other feature of her face belonged to her mother. That perfect nose, that insatiable curiosity that was impossible not to see with every movement of her head, a month old and already she was so much like Skylar.

  Liam adored her, loved every
moment that he spent with her, yet it was for this very reason that he was in pain. She was so much like her mother, and while he loved that he could not help but be reminded of what he had lost when he looked into the eyes of what he had gained, Skylar's loss still a wound that still felt as though it was bleeding him dry. Which was why, after a day of playing and feeding, laughing and smiling with his daughter, when she was put to bed he would drink. Never to black out, even with a number of drinks in him he was still lucid enough to be able to protect her if he needed to, but he needed to take the edge off. Every night went like this, and every morning he inevitably woke up with a throbbing headache and a tear stained pillow. And the rate that tonight was going, he was going to wake up the exact same way tomorrow.

  Abigail had been put to bed hours ago, and as soon as her eyes had closed and her breathing slowed into gentle snores, the whiskey bottle had been opened. Liam sat against the living room wall, a half empty glass in one hand and a photo of his wife in the other. They hadn't yet learned that she was pregnant, just enjoying life as two carefree young people with the future ahead of them and opportunity in their hands. They had no idea of what was waiting for them mere months down the line, the elation they would feel when they joined in marriage, when they finally welcomed another member into their family. The tragedy they would experience, from Skylar discovering the true state of her parentage... The events of one month ago...

  In one-night Abigail had become the last of the Moore line. The thought was a very sobering one to Liam, considering he himself knew just how easily family could be lost. He just hoped that Abigail would never have to experience something like either of her parents had, he would sooner lose everything than allow her to feel such a pointless pain, such hopeless despair...

  "No..." He said, bringing the glass to his lips again. "No, she'll never feel anything like that. Not so long as I'm still breathing."

  "Well in that case..." The voice jolted him out of his thoughts, almost dropping the glass before recovering. "You should probably be sober enough to do something about it, yeah?"

  Liam looked up, scowling instinctively before his face softened, holding the bottle up to his guest. "Hello Cayden," He sighed, "What are you doing here?"

  "Everyone's worried about you Liam." Cayden chuckled, grabbing the bottle and taking a quick swig. "I'm just one of the only ones who doesn't care about pissing you off about it."

  In spite of himself, Liam laughed. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was just that he was still reeling from loss, but he couldn't bring himself to genuinely fight with Cayden, or even get that angry with him anymore. He hoped to whatever god there was that it didn't mean they were becoming friends.

  "Anyway, I figured I should come over, make sure the place hasn't burnt down or that you haven't drowned in puke in your sleep." He took a seat next to Liam, head tapping against the wall behind him. "Not gonna let you die like that, that's too embarrassing."

  "How charitable. Don't you have your own bed to go back to? Or is Farah not letting you leave her house without permission?"

  The topic of "permission" left a blush on Cayden's cheeks, and a satisfied smirk on Liam's face. "I knew it, she has you wrapped around her little finger, doesn't she?" He took another gulp of his drink, feeling bold. "I'm guessing sometimes literally?"

  "If I pour you another drink will you shut up?" Cayden was scowling, but judging by the twitching of his lips he was clearly fighting to not smile. Liam rolled his eyes and nodded, holding out his glass for another.

  The two of them were silent for a good while after that, the only sounds from a gulp or the swishing of liquid in a bottle, conversation not high on the agenda for either of them. Eventually however, it must have been how much he had drunk, Liam couldn't help himself anymore.

  "I miss her Cayden. I miss her so much."

  Cayden wasn't sure what to say at first, but slowly, cautiously, he placed a hand on Liam's shoulder. "We all do Liam, but... I know what you mean."

  "Have you ever lost someone like this?"

  "Like a wife or a girlfriend?" He shook his head. "Nah, closest thing would be when I lost my dad, that was pretty rough."

  Inwardly, Liam winced at the information. "How did you deal with it?"

  Cayden barked out a laugh, "How did I deal with it? I got shitfaced just like you are now, and I went to work for a genocidal madman. I'm pretty sure I handled things a lot worse than you are."

  Liam looked away, it was definitely the amount he'd drunk. "I'm sorry."

  "Don't be, it wasn't your fault." Cayden tilted his head back, taking a deep gulp of the amber liquid. It burned on the way down, his face twisting in a grimace before he continued, "And even if it was, it doesn't really matter. You're far from the only person here with some shit on your soul, we've just got to deal with that."

  That put a fond smile on Liam's face, despite the tragedy of such a statement. "We're a group of fuck ups, aren't we? Just floating by and pretending like we know what we're doing."

  "Damn right we are, and that means that we have to stick together." Awkwardly, Cayden squeezed Liam's forearm, his eyes softer when he looked up at him. "You can come to anyone of us you know? You don't have to suffer like this alone, trust me, it won't get any better this way."

  Liam sighed, putting his glass down and closing his eyes. He tapped his foot against the ground, trying to find the right words for what he wanted to say. His head rested against the wall, his breathing slow and his expression so still Cayden thought he had fallen asleep. Then he spoke.

  "I think I'm punishing myself. For not being able to do anything to help her, I was useless."

  "Yeah, no kidding that's what you're doing. That's why we're worried about you." He shook his head, anger suddenly flaring up. "The last few times there's been trouble I've done nothing but get hurt at least you managed to get those fucks out of town last time, I got stabbed and almost bled to death on the sidewalk, some hero I was."

  "You saved my mother, and my daughter. Don't think that you didn't do anything for us. Jesus, if it wasn't for Skylar every single one of us would have been killed that night, and I would have just had to sit there and watch it happen."

  Cayden sighed, taking another deep drink. "We're just going around in circles, aren't we? I blame myself, you blame yourself, and we both end up absolutely miserable until we pass out. That's how it's been the last few times."

  "How many times have we had this conversation now?"

  "Probably more than you can remember, it's been rough a couple times." Cayden looked up at the clock, seeing the hands ticking just past the two mark. "Looks like it's getting late, you should probably get to bed Liam."

  "And waste my drinking time? Now I know you're just trying to make me miserable."

  "Ha ha ass, just get your ass to bed, I'll be here in case anything goes down with either of you." He didn't wait for an answer before he got to his feet, hand grabbing Liam's collar and hauling him up. "I'll take the couch."

  "The couch?" Liam raised an eyebrow. "Don't you need to get back to Farah?"

  He chuckled, "Whose idea do you think this was?"

  Liam rolled his eyes, turning towards the bedroom. "Right, of course it was her idea. No way would you 'disobey your mistress'."

  "She doesn't say that!" Cayden looked away, stammering, "Not in... Those exact words..."

  "Alright, I don't want to know." Liam paused at the door, looking over at Cayden. "I... Thank you, Cayden. For doing this. I know that we haven't exactly... Gotten along over our time together but..."

  "Don't worry about it, seriously." Cayden walked over, extending his hand. "Water under the bridge man, we just need to move forward now. Can't do that if we're stuck in the past."

  Liam regarded the hand cautiously, now more than ever uncertain of where the future was going to take him. One month ago it felt like his future had been ripped away from him, a hollow void opening in his chest that everything else was being sucked into. But he knew that wasn't a sust
ainable way to live, perhaps even an utterly selfish one considering who he had depending on him, there would come a time that he would have to move forward.

  It wasn't going to be tonight, but it didn't mean he couldn't take that first step.

  "Sure, water under the bridge." He took Cayden's hand, shaking it twice before retreating into his room. "Good night Cayden."

  "Wait!" When Liam paused, he continued quietly, "Do you mind if I see her? I won't wake her up or anything I just..."

  "Yeah go ahead." Liam waved him in, voice low when he pointed over at Abigail's crib. "You've been a huge help to the both of us these last few weeks, of course you can see her. But I'm gonna go pass out, I trust you can make your own way to the couch."

  True to his word, Liam collapsed face down onto his bed, lightly snoring within seconds of his eyes closing. Cayden watched over him for a few seconds, judging whether or not he would need to be moved before nodding to himself, satisfied. He was silent as he moved over to the crib, every step he took feeling much too loud for him, but Abigail remained undisturbed.

  He resisted the urge to stretch his hand out and run a finger down her face, so peaceful in her sleep that he forgot everything else around him. She looked so much like Skylar that it almost brought him to tears, her gentle cooing and the soft rise and fall of her chest filling him with warmth and utter sorrow. He shook his head, knowing he couldn't stay in here any longer, though whether that was because they were sleeping or because he couldn't take the sight of Abigail anymore he wasn't sure.

  Cayden looked over his shoulder before he closed the door, seeing Liam tossing in his sleep, eyes pinched in pain that he couldn't keep away in his dreaming state.

  He closed the door behind him, shaking his head to himself, his voice soft, "Goddamn you Christian."

  * * *

  Miles, hours, days away, the man himself stirred. Hot rage bubbling behind his eyes when he remembered who wasn't waking up beside him, who wasn't waking up ever again, a bruised fist shooting into the wall when it finally got to be too much.