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An Alpha's Instinct

An Alpha's Instinct

Author:Anisa Worthington

Finished

Introduction
Summer break to Erin Storm involves photography, hanging out with friends, and cramming as much partying as he can into three months before the college semester starts up again. However, meeting the mysterious and handsome newcomer Victor Lovelace at a party throws a wrench in those plans as Erin is introduced to a supernatural world driven by two things – fate and instinct. A family secret lurks beneath the surface of their relationship, threatening to expose Erin to a world he has never known before but belongs to. How much is Victor willing to sacrifice to be with Erin? Will Erin be able to overlook the absurdity of werewolves being real? Fate and instinct play a dangerous game in this story as Erin and Victor navigate their heart’s desires while secret rebellions, manipulation tactics, and past grievances try to keep them apart. An Alpha's Instinct is created by Anisa Worthington, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.
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Chapter

“Just one more s-"

“No."

“Come on Alex!"

“No, Layla, the whole point is to get drunk at the party, not before."

Layla huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and turning to look out the car window. Almost as soon as they left Alex's house, she grabbed one of the bottles of whisky they stole from Alex's father's wine cellar and started drinking. Her argument – it's always more fun turning up to a party already a little buzzed.

“We're almost there," Erin said, keeping his eyes alert as he sped up. The sound of upbeat dance music got louder as they approached the old cotton factory, loud laughter and off-tune singing beginning to mix in with the music. Multi-colored lights from inside the warehouse and light fixtures around the outside turned the night sky into a rainbow. It made the whole place feel like one was stepping into a magical land and not a half-renovated factory at the bottom of a hill.

“We might have to walk a bit," Erin says as he looks around for a park. Any space not occupied by a car was filled with either people or piles of empty beer bottles. Some of them had both. It wasn't a surprise; over the past couple of summers, people from neighboring towns had driven over to participate in Black Hill's little tradition.

“Dibs not carrying Layla," Alex smirks.

Layla slaps Alex with her long blonde ponytail.

Erin finds a spot near the forest edge, in-between two massive ford trucks. A perfect hiding spot for his little white hatchback. Layla sticks her tongue out at Alex as they get out, grabbing the whisky bottle on the way. There are others around them walking toward the warehouse with bottles of alcohol in their hands, some clearly had the same 'on the road' idea as Layla. Everyone is dressed for the humid night with shorts and t-shirts, all ranging in length, though most verge on inappropriate for grandma to see. It may not be a nightclub, but it was still a party. They all knew that.

Except for him.

Erin spots him as soon as they enter the warehouse. He's leaning against the back wall in a corner alone, directly opposite the door, away from the mass of sweaty bodies. A look of boredom masks his face, strengthened by crossed arms and closed eyes.

Eyes that just snapped open and locked onto Erin's.

'Beautiful' Erin thinks, 'like twin moons reflected in ocean water'. He feels no sense of shame in being caught openly staring. Instead, something inside him starts to burn; a nostalgic feeling mixed with intense desire and longing coursing throughout his whole body.

He can't look away. He doesn't want to look away.

“I'm going to get some snacks. Matt from Econ is working the bar," Layla yells to Erin and Alex, grabbing their hands as she leans in. Erin flinches, tearing his eyes away from the mysterious man to Layla.

“Ok," Alex yells back to Layla, oblivious to Erin's internal strife. “We'll be at the normal spot."

Erin nods to Layla in agreement before looking back over to the wall. The man is still there, a complicated look of awe and confusion turning his features sour. He's pushed himself off the wall now, arms hanging loosely by his side.

“You ok man?" Alex asks.

Erin glances toward Alex, “Yeah, yeah, all good. Just … uh … silk. That guy in our favorite corner is wearing a silk top. Maroon, I think, with dress shoes. Thought it was a bit different to what people normally wear to these things, ya know, so it caught my eye."

Alex looks over toward the man before looking back to Erin, eyebrows raised. There's a brief silence before he sighs. “Man do I envy your 20/20 vision."

Erin laughs a bit awkwardly, clapping his hand on Alex's back. “Lots of carrots growing up dude."

“Uh-huh," Alex huffs. “Well, considering he's standing in our spot we best go over and introduce ourselves, make sure he's not some weird serial killer." Erin laughs as they weave through the crowd.

No matter how full the warehouse gets, the back steps always tend to remain secluded. Not many people like the old rusty feel of metal steps and wooden cotton barrels, preferring instead the newly renovated tables, strobe lights, and glittery stools.

Somehow Erin knows the man is still gazing at him. He feels as though those pale moon eyes never left his face. When they reach their spot, Erin quickly looks the man over. He's tall, at least half a head taller than Erin. His long legs are covered in fitted black jeans and his arms are bare besides a silver watch on his right wrist and an antique jeweled ring on his left index. The colorful lights make his hair color impossible to discern, but it looks like a dark chocolate brown, slicked back with a fancy side part. And his eyes. Erin knows those eyes would glow even in the darkest of nights.

“Nice ring," Erin winces internally. Way to start a conversation with a stranger at a secluded section of a crowded midnight party.

“Family heirloom," the man replies. He looks like he's hardly breathing, fingers twitching against his thigh.

“From Black Hill?" Alex jumps in, always Erin's savior. “I don't think I've seen you around before."

“Um, no. No. I'm from New York. Bellmore specifically." The man glances at Alex before locking eyes with Erin again.

Erin can't tell if the noise in his ears is the loud music or if his heart is about to explode.

Alex whistles. “New York! Long way from home then. I'm Alex and this is Erin."

“I'm Victor." The breeze from the ceiling fans makes some of his hair sway. It looks as soft as honey.

Erin raises his hand for a handshake. “Nice to meet you, Victor."

“You too, Erin." Victor shakes Erin's hand back. It's warm, slotting into Erin's hand perfectly. Alex smirks, looking between them.

“Well, I'm going to go see how Layla's enjoying her 'snack' and get us some Full Moons. I'll be back." Alex claps Erin on the shoulder, winking as he leaves.

“Full Moon?" Victor tilts his head to the side. 'Cute, like a puppy' Erin thinks, stifling a laugh.

“I don't know what's in it, but the foam on the top with the dark blue lacquer looks like a full moon in the night sky."

“Ah," Victor has this gleam in his eyes; like he heard the world's funniest joke that only he understands. “Interesting."

“Is there anything else you find interesting?" Erin asks boldly, looking straight into Victor's eyes again. It's becoming an obsession. He doesn't know Victor; doesn't know which way he swings – if he swings at all – but he knows Victor will respond to his goading. He can spot a flirt.

“Just one," Victor responds, leaning against the wall again. He feels himself blushing but can't find it in him to care. When Victor looks at him, it's like he's seeing something more, something deeper.

Something even Erin can't see himself. It's a bit overwhelming, but Erin doesn't want him to stop.

“Three Full Moons at your service!" Alex hands a glass each to Victor and Erin. “Layla found some old high school friends, so she'll join us later. Bottoms up!"

They clink glasses. Alex starts chugging straight away while Erin leans in to whisper to Victor, a smirk lifting his lips. “Chug it."

Victor raises an eyebrow, raising the drink to his lips. Erin follows suit. They both tip their heads back, quickly swallowing the drink. Victor beats Erin by one gulp.

"Wow, you can certainly hold your alcohol," Alex wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, laughing as he places his empty glass on a barrel next to them. “Give'n Erin a run for his money."

“Oh?" Victor also places his glass on the barrel, taking Erin's from his hand to do the same. Their fingers almost touch. “You a heavy drinker?"

“No, no. I just don't get drunk easily." Erin shrugs, shoving his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “Fast metabolism, ya know?"

“More like lucky genetics," Alex takes a seat on the steps, so he's now eye level with them, nudging Erin's foot as he does.

Victor's smile turns downward a bit, the same sour look from before twisting his face again. Before he can say anything else, a loud whistle tears through the room making Erin and Victor turn. Between the ocean of bodies, Erin sees a man waving his hand over his head, gesturing toward them.

“That's loud," Erin mumbles.

Victor snaps his head to Erin with a shocked look on his face. “You heard that?"

“Heard what?" Alex cups his hands behind his ears to try and echo the sound better.

“Never mind," Victor shakes his head. “My cousin is calling me. Nice to meet you all. Erin," Victor nods as he walks away.

Erin watches him go. He hears the steps creak as Alex shifts while lowering his hands and sees, out of the corner of his eye, Layla approaching them.

“So, what did I miss?" Layla has more drinks with her on a tray. Alex leans down and takes one, chugging it straight away.

“Nothing," Erin finally looks away from the direction Victor went. He forces a smile. “Nothing at all."