Wolf Bound
Table of Contents
Title Page
Wolf Bound (The Alpha Legacy #1)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Pack Bound (The Alpha Legacy #2)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Magic Bound (The Alpha Legacy #3)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Alpha Bound (The Alpha Legacy #4)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kin Bound (The Alpha Legacy #5)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Soul Bound (The Alpha Legacy #6)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Mate Bound (The Alpha Legacy #7)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
There's More!
The Dragon Born Trilogy
The Abnormals Underground Series
The Alpha Legacy
Book 1
By Holly Hook
Wolf Bound
The Alpha Legacy #1
By Holly Hook
Copyright Holly Hook 2018
Chapter One
When the door chime goes off, I freeze.
Aunt May has left Sterling Grocery for the day and I'm sweeping the floorboards since it's slow. I lean the broom against the wooden stand of essential oils. As the only person in our health food store until Leonora gets back in from her lunch break, I tense each time someone comes in. Our store's tucked away from the tourist traps and ski resorts, but having the wilderness as your neighbor gets creepy sometimes. In the summer, business isn't booming here in Breckenridge.
The chimes clink together a second time as the front door closes. Since I'm at the back of the store, in the Veggie Corner, I can't see around our three aisles of gluten-free snacks and organic products to whoever just walked in.
“Do you need any help?” I ask.
Nothing. Whoever has just walked in is quiet. In Sterling Grocery, the floorboards are as old as the Gold Rush, squeaking with every step. There's no sound except the faint crackling of the police radio in the back room, which Leonora keeps on for entertainment value. I check the back door, but my coworker won't get back for a few.
"Hello?" I ask. "I'll be right with you."
No response.
My mind turns to kids trying to mess with me. My heart races, and I don't get why. Maybe it's a deaf person, and they didn't hear me. Or maybe they have a reason they don't want to interact. Shoplifting, maybe. Standing at five foot two with a thin build and long blond hair, I don't look like someone who could stop one. But I can't let it fly. Aunt May's dealing with enough financial problems, though she refuses to say it.
"Hello?" I ask again, blowing my cover a second time. Real smart.
A shuffling noise follows, coming from the Organic Herbs and Spices section. Okay. The door wasn't my imagination, but something doesn't sit right about the situation.
The police radio crackles and the dispatcher speaks. “Wild dog or wolf sighting on the North Trail. Hiker called in. Unit Four to the three mile marker on North Trail.”
I ignore the message. Whoever came in continues to shuffle through stuff. Our regulars are older folks and off-the-grid people like Leonora and her family. Even Mrs. Langley, the mean old lady, says hi back when we greet her.
“Did you hear?” I ask. “Nobody's seen wolves around here for a long time. I think it's just a wild dog. My aunt used to tell stories about wolves in the woods, but we kids knew it was just a scare tactic.” I need anything to clear the awkward air, but my palms tingle with nerves. An animal didn't come in, did it? That might explain the lac
k of heavy footsteps.
One wouldn't have opened our door, I tell myself. Duh, Brie.
The lack of footsteps. No one takes a step in Sterling Grocery, ever, without triggering the creaks. The silence hangs heavy.
I grab the broom, just in case. Holding it in front of me with one hand, I take my pendant with the other. Aunt May and I wear silver sword pendants around our necks, pointed down in defense. Appropriate. It's our weird family tradition (according to her) and a nervous tic of mine. Maybe I'm hoping my good luck charm will ward off the danger.
The shuffling's stopped. My throat's dry and the lump prevents me from asking if someone's there again.
So I fall right into a horror movie trope and creep towards the spice aisle. Inching past the gluten-free snacks, I lean to search the aisle.
“Hey.”
A guy's powerful voice booms behind me. My heart about leaps from my chest. Whirling, I find myself face to face with the most breathtaking guy I've seen since, well, ever. Tall and well built, the guy has dark hair, almost black, that cascades down the sides of his face. The sun strikes his mane, revealing red highlights I want to run my hand through. With high cheekbones and perfect, smooth skin, he surveys me with hazel eyes that remind me of the nearby mountain range. The wilderness itself lives in those irises.
This guy came in, explored the spice aisle, and circled around me without making a sound. Impossible. The static from the police radio is nowhere near loud enough to drown out the sound.
“How did you sneak up on me?” I ask.
Great job. A customer I've never seen just says hi, and I blow it by accusing him of being a creep. Meanwhile, the police radio crackles, breaking the awkward silence.
“Unit Four. There is a dead moose off the North Trail. Carcass is fresh, appears to have been bitten by at least one animal. Blocking off trail. Hiker alarmed but unhurt.”
The guy flinches and looks at the closed back door. Heat fills my cheeks as my blood vessels betray me. At least he's not watching.
“What could take down a moose?” I ask.
"Where do you keep the seasonings?" he asks. I swear, his voice could make a room of girls swoon. But his creeping through the store in complete silence hangs between us.
As he waits for an answer, his nostrils widen as he takes a breath.
He's sniffing.
And I'm not wearing perfume. Leonora freaks over anything artificial and there's no one to impress in Sterling Grocery, anyway. The wild something in his eyes fades as if satisfied I don't pose a threat.
"Um..." He steals my ability to put a coherent sentence together. "They're in the third aisle, right behind me. Ours are all organic and most come from companies based here in Colorado." A paragraph. Wow.
And wasn't he already in that aisle?
Is he staking out the place?
Something about him sets my nerves on edge but another part of me wants to know more.
“Great,” he says, pulling out his phone. It's the kiss of death. Great. Maybe he's texting his friends now he knows the only opposition to a robbery is a small, harmless girl who can't even speak. He types away, gazing at his phone as if I haven't said a word.
"Third aisle," I repeat, grabbing the broom.
The back door opens and Leonora steps into the store. She polishes off a carrot stick from her family's off-grid property. She snaps her gaze up as the guy disappears back into the same aisle I swear he was in before. Each step is noiseless. His gait carries grace. He's confident, not missing a step. No one in my life has a walk like that. As her mouth gapes open, I take her arm.
“Suspicious dude,” I whisper, hating that I say it right away.
“But he's hot,” she hisses.
Leonora doesn't notice guys often. “You only saw his backside.”
“What's wrong with that?” She blushes, making me feel less stupid.
I lean close to her ear, cupping my hand over my mouth even though there's no way he can hear. “There's something just off about him. Keep an eye out.”
There's no time to explain to Leonora the full story, so I nod to the front of the store. The talk about the dead moose and the shaken hiker has stopped. Though I don't want to do it, I head to the front desk and watch the front door. What do I do if he shoplifts? I can't stop a guy almost twice my weight. I don't even play sports—theater doesn't count. Aunt May never explained what to do since our clientele consists of old ladies and health-conscious stay at home moms. The best defense we have is Leonora scaring him away with talk about cell phone radiation and government spying.
And she won't do that. Her eyes have that googly look as we walk to the front desk together. She's humoring me and wouldn't appreciate my idea. I consider texting my friend Noah, but this guy pretending to look at spices would beat my theater buddy into a pulp.
So we stand together, waiting. At last, the guy emerges from the aisles—this time in the front of the store—and makes a beeline for us. He maintains that perfect gait. Is it rehearsed?
I tense. He'll pull out a gun or knife next.
He lifts something...and places a glass bottle of Organic Grill Spice on the counter.
Leonora grins at me.
I feel stupid, but not before I realize he's still thumbing through his cell phone with his free hand. As if whatever he's looking at is the most important thing ever, he pulls out a five-dollar bill and places it down on the counter without a word.
“Hey,” I say. “I'm sorry I jumped like that. The boards creak in this store, so you surprised me.”
He keeps scrolling. I watch his eyes to see if he's facing the window, but there's no one outside on the dirt road or in the dusty parking lot. So far, no sign of a robbery.
The guy turns toward Leonora and sniffs again. I don't realize he's hunching his shoulders until he drops them. “I'd like to check out.”
“You do. Sorry,” I say. “We haven't seen you around here before. Did you get lost?”
“No.” That text or whatever is a black hole sucking up all his attention. Even while standing behind the counter and on my tiptoes, I can't see what's on the screen.
“Grilling out tonight? Sorry we don't carry that much meat.”
“We're good on meat,” the guy says. He wants to end this conversation.
I ring him up using our old cash register, the one my grandfather bought decades ago that dings when the drawer opens. “That will be four dollars and fifty-nine cents, tax included.” I beg Leonora not to say anything about how she grows all her own herbs at home for free. Aunt May can't bleed any more money.
As I make the change, the newcomer remains silent. If he were a mime, he would put his hands up, forming an invisible wall. Tension thickens. Why is he doing this? He is a hot guy and so far no stick up has happened, which begs another question.
"Are you new to Breck?" I ask, pushing the words out. “If you're grilling, you must be.”
He taps the screen with a finger.
"Hey. Welcome to town and our exquisite hiking trails and ski slopes," I say. "If you're the outdoorsy type, you'll love it here."
"Maybe." He only shifts his gaze when I hand him his change. I glimpse the wilds in his eyes again as he turns them up to face me. “And I don't think I'm that suspicious.”
A moment passes before his words sink in. Did he hear us whispering on the other side of the store? That's impossible.
But before I can ask him if he was spying, he turns and exits the store with the grace of an Olympic athlete. The bell jingles as he strides out, letting the dusty glass close behind him. Leonora and I watch as he walks not down the road, but straight into the woods.
Chapter Two
"So, how did things go at the store today?" Aunt May asks as she pulls open the pantry door in our old kitchen.
"Fine," I say, thinking back to the mystery guy as I peek into the fridge for something to heat for dinner. Despite his rude behavior, I replay our entire conversation with the stranger over and over. He didn't even answ
er my questions. What was he—a government agent? Why the sniffing? Maybe he was looking for drugs or he was an undercover cop trying to smell booze on us. As if Sterling Grocery is the place to have drinking parties. And he's way too young, unless they hire high school kids to act as traitors now.
But I can't shake him and that wild nobility in his eyes. The way he said he wasn't suspicious. The lack of noise when he walked on those ancient boards. He was like no one I'd ever seen. His whole body and every movement radiated power.
"Brianna?"
I jolt, closing the refrigerator door. Aunt May peeks out of the pantry with her gorgeous blue eyes, leaning out with her coffee mug in hand. It sloshes. She must look for sugar.
"Leonora didn't annoy you too bad?"_
"She didn't," I say. The sense that Aunt May is trying to pry sweeps over me. It's not as if this was my first time working at the store alone for an entire lunch break. It's summer. That happens. And I don't have a problem putting in the extra hours so she doesn't have to pay more people.
"You're walking around as if something is bothering you."
“I am?” Maybe he was just a tourist who got lost, and he didn't want to admit that, being a macho guy. When a stranger enters Sterling Grocery, it's someone who's strayed away from the tourist attractions and needs directions during ski season to Quandary Peak or to the Gold Rush Museum. Or there's an off chance he's new and too proud to admit he's still finding his way around.
"Brie?"
"I'm fine," I say, a little too quickly. "It was just a long day. We had a short rush about an hour after you left." I can't get that guy's eyes out of my mind. My brain keeps running a second by second analysis of our interaction, trying to tease out any clues that would get it to make sense.
I need to stop. He's just some guy who's too good for everyone.
And after today, he'll never come back to the store.
Then I blurt, "We had a new person come into the store today."
Aunt May closes the pantry door without emerging with another bag of sugar. She walks to the kitchen window, gripping the sill so hard she'd break it if she had the strength. My aunt looks past rows of houses and to where Quandary Peak rises. It's as if she's expecting a yeti to parade down the mountain and smash through our house. Well, my parents' house she took over after the accident.
"Is something wrong?" I ask. "I know a new customer is a super rare occurrence, but I promise he didn't rob the place or follow me home."