Claimed by the Wolf Billionaire (BBW Paranormal Alpha Romance) Read online

  Claimed By the Wolf Billionaire

  (BBW Paranormal Alpha Romance)

  By Clarissa Black

  Copyright 2014

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

  She knows electric current would either flow downward or upward. Upward was where the horse-drawn carriage was bringing her. Upwards to the cold mountains of Colorado. Good thing the purified air was of better quality, better than in the valley, downward.

  “How long to the top?” She said loudly, uneasy with the galloping of the horse as it dragged the carriage. Has the millennium even passed?

  “We’re almost there ma’m,” said the college student tour-operator she paid to bring her up the mountain. Oddly enough, the horse-led carriage was the only way up. She thanked her lucky stars for not needing to walk up with all that camera gear – she wasn’t exactly the athletic type.

  Gina sighed. This whole bizarre story started just a little over a day ago, of all places, at the high-tech news head-quarters of Silicon Valley, and it was getting worse with each passing minute.

  *** 24 hours ago ***

  “Gina gin gin! Gina gin gin gin!” Antonio gleefully chanted as his chair zoomed towards her. She found Antonio as an annoying geek. But being a techno-guru, he infused her with the knowledge needed to work Silicon-Valley’s very tech savvy start-up scene. All that science and business stuff was not her world. It was their world.

  And in this world she learned of the male pecking order. The first were the beta males. A sea of Antonios surrounded her. Smart, nerdy, but ultimately mediocre. A good percentage of the men in this valley were of their ilk: engineers, scientist, and programmers -- they were the drone workforce.

  The leaders were the alpha males. The top 1% were the CEOs; they were leaders, risk-takers, innovators, and oddly enough, overwhelmingly handsome. It was her job to cover them.

  “What is it again you annoying toad?” She chuckled. As the only blonde in this nerdy-type dominated field, she had more or less accepted that social-awkwardness was the norm. She missed alpha males.

  “From the desk of our command leader,” Antonio said twirling the office chair shooting pretend laser-beams from his hands. Ah the editor, a true alpha male, who started the company, by the name of Mark. He was genuinely nice, wealthy, and as always with the alpha males, equally married. They never stay single. She sighs dejectedly.

  “Remember the star of the innovation conference? That Tasla guy? The one you said I can never be in a million years unless the slush of the universe coalesces in a point singularity?” He said fingering his glasses upwards as it slid down his nose. “He needs you to cover his story.”

  It’s no secret why I’ve been hired. None of these alpha male geniuses want to talk to the Antonios.

  “Tasla? Isn’t he… ” she started.

  “Yup he’s the one! Grandson of Mr. Electricity himself.”

  “But isn’t he the one… Whose notoriously media shy?”

  “Look” Antonio removed his glasses and began twisting the frame, “editor CEO Mark said the previous ten failed attempts doesn’t mean the eleventh will end just as tragic. He’d be damned if another agency gets an interview with him. We best be strategic about it.”

  Strategic. What does he mean by that? Does he want me to seduce him…?

  “Well you can tell him to forget about it. Strategic my ass.” The traditional news industry was still too competitive for her. She took his glasses from his hand. Tightened the bend and placed it squarely in his eye.

  “Thanks! It’s perfect now.” He said grabbing a left-over donut, “Either get the interview or he’ll be out with your job Gina. You have until Saturday.”

  “Here’s research.” Antonio beamed an ebook into her tablet. The title read, ‘Millennium Current: Tasla’s Electric Gamble’. On the cover was a man wearing a doppelganger suit standing in front of machine, with what appeared to be braches of electric-arcs shooting from it.

  *** Now ***

  A bump in the road jarred her. She clutched her electronic reader. So far she had uncovered the long line of ‘science royalty.’ She would have learned more but her e-reader started beeping.

  **Low Batt. Please Charge.**

  It blinked before shutting down. And I just charged this thing. Sigh…

  “How high are we exactly?” She asked the college student who manned the horse dragging the carriage.

  “About 1,500 feet in altitude ma’m” he said in a sweet voice. “There’s nothing but wilderness up here in this mountain.”

  The beeping of her phone suddenly caught her attention.

  **Low Batt.**

  Of all the time for this to happen. And I just charged this thing too.

  “Tell me about this mountain, kid.” She said tucking her scarf in her jacket.

  “Umm. Besides that we’re not supposed to be here? It’s private property. Owned by the Tasla family. Their company is releasing the biggest alternative energy. I saw that in the news you reported. We talk about it at the university. It sure is great. I mean, for my generation.”

  “That’s where Elliot Tasla lives right?”

  Elliot, the recluse, who abstained from the affairs of the multi-billion dollar company he ran with his brother. He could be dating supermodels, but for some reason, he chose to be lock himself here… with no electricity.

  “I believe so. There’s another thing. There was a woman who came to these castle not long ago. She came back to town crying. It’s not my business to ask but what is the nature of your visit? I mean just in case.. people come looking for you.”

  She noted that detail about the woman and flashed her reporter badge. He nodded.

  “Well, I hate to burst your bubble but it seems like a storm is brewing. You mentioned your colleagues are on their way up here, but I doubt anyone will take them up here now.”

  “Can I use your phone, kid?” she asked.

  “It’s dead ma’m”

  ***

  Downwards this time. Like an ant, the sight of the college student turned to a speck as it descended the winding mountain roads. With a mountain’s panoramic view, she could see the town in the valley below. She thought how she’d rather snuggle in the local tourist hotel after she got a margarita.

  Her marvelous view was only eclipsed by the sight of a medieval castle in the summit. Its tower spiraled to the sky, giving it an impression that it wanted to reach, or at least, touch the heavens.

  Clearing the twisted vegetation on the gate, she stepped into the pathway leading to the door. Pines crunched under the heels of her stilettoes.

  She stepped on the covered porch and knocked on the wooden door. The door did not yield an answer. Just hollowness. She knocked again, placing her ear close to the wood, and hoping to hear any sign of movement.

  Great, I’m here in the top of a mountain. No electricity. My phone is dead and absolutely no way to get back. For a technological billionaire, he sure has a pretty low-tech way of greeting his visitors

  After knocking for almost half an hour, Gina felt unsure what to do next. At this altitude, atmospheric disturbances occurs eye-level. Gina watched the quickly approaching storm clouds.

  He has to be here. I didn’t become a journalist for nothing. I know how not take ‘no’ for an answer.

  Walking along the castle’s sides, she found a circular curved window. The curvature blurred ev
erything. Using her hands to cover the sides of her eyes, she focused through the thick glass.

  She could see wood. Furniture! At least that’s something. A slight drizzle of rain started to mist her surrounding and the glass. She wiped the condensation from the glass and was surprised to see movement. What could that be? Her journalistic instincts peaked. She peered further.

  A dog perhaps? Tip-toeing, she saw the movement rapidly approach the window.

  She fell to the ground seeing a large wolf like snout appearing at the other side, surprising her. The pain of her fall was only eclipsed by the joy of knowing that there was something in there. Rain thickened.

  I mean if there’s a dog, then it follows that the master would be there. She quickly ran back to the door.

  “I know you’re in there!” she cried out.

  “Mr. Tasla!!!” she banged on the door.

  “I know you’re in there! I saw your dog… ummmmm…” a roaring thunder matched the exact moment the door opened.

  ***

  A naked man swung the door open. She wanted to say something. She was usually quick with these things. “I.. I.. ” she found herself stammering.

  He wasn’t entirely naked, but his robe was barely fashioned that it gave that impression. The slits of his eyes contained a rage, a frozen anger that hinted that she was trespassing on his personal space. But while there was anger, there was a also gleam of intense intelligence in his eyes. She instinctually felt his type. He screamed of alpha male.

  The face that looked down on her took her breathe away. His European roots was evident in the geometry of his angular face. He reminded her of a statue – a model of a renowned hero, far too handsome to be the real thing. He would have looked just as good in boardroom as he did in that doorway.

  But it was the hard panels of his chest that caught her attention. They were large planks of well-developed muscle. She had to restrain herself from reaching out to them. Her eyes strayed, trailing the outline of his chest, then dragging down to the corrugated leanness of his abs, which then led to his Adonis handle, and finally led down to his—

  “Leave” he said in a ridiculously low-tone voice of unrestrained masculinity. She thought it sounded more like a growl.

  “Mr. Tasla! I’ve come here to ask you a few questions.. “ She said quickly snapping back to reality. But it was already too late. The wooden door was closing in faster than the storm clouds above her. Wasn’t he even going to invite me in.. to give me shelter? What a douche…

  She had experience interviewing these successful personalities before. Egos bigger than entire mountains. She stepped her foot to prevent the door from closing. With its blockage closing, the door swung open, but this time lupine in its swiftness.

  His eyes screamed, “YOU DARE!!”

  He lunged his face directly inches from her. The heat of his eyes radiated of primal anger. In a split second, she caught a blue streak of lights spark from within his eyes.

  “Mr. Tasla just a few questions please and I’ll be off,” she said twisting her foot to ajar the door. Holding her reporter badge next to him. He relented.

  Again she caught herself trying not to look further down his waist. But for a moment, she saw it from within his robe. The large-tipped head of his cock swinging like a fleshy pendulum. It was barely masked by the shadow of the inside of his legs. She looked up to his face quickly. Embarrassed.

  “Leave. Don’t make me ask again.” He was looking up to the sky, peering at the sky, observing. A low grumble of thunder bore at the distance.

  “I’ve wanted to ask you what had happened with the woman that had visited you.”

  The edge of his lips tightened. Gina had interviewed enough politicians to know that these were sure signs that there was a story to be uncovered. Nobody wanted a scandal.

  “There’s nothing to know. I need you to leave.” He growled as he pushed her stilettoes with his feet, almost a kick, dislodging them cleanly away from the door. The sharp slamming of the door echoed through the trees and was followed by the deep rumble of thunder.

  Damn it. Now I could really use a margarita. To make matters worse, rain turned to heavy slush. She cowered on the covered porch, her only shield against the torrential downpour. She looked at the mountain horizon. From the bosom of dark clouds formed an astonishing array of light, bending into cracks as though it were trying to free itself. Instantaneous bursts of blue sparks, just like what she’d seen in Elliot’s eyes, struck at the distance sending shockwaves of clapping thunder passing through her terrified core. The sky had turned to a maelstrom of dark, mercurial clouds and violently dancing light.

  Plasma, she remembers the voice of Antonio, her nerdy co-worker, mention to her in one of the science convention they covered. Plasma is the fourth state of matter. Her mind drifted to the glass bubble from a Tasla exhibit booth where she’d seen the only earth-based creation of the plasma. She was delighted of the threads of electricity which trailed her hand when she touched the protective glass.

  Elliot and his brother, Mikhail were championing the adoption of a new clean source of renewable energy. They claimed of building upon their grandfather’s work and ready to replace the antiquated standard of fossil fuel. Of course, they met heavy opposition from the oil and engine-manufacturers cartel. The cartel blocked every one of their advances, causing Mikhail, the business savvy of the two, to invest their family fortune on the venture. It paid off, but not without heavy opposition, and not without the help of the public who supported the brothers calling them “humanity’s future.” “It was humanity’s belief of the future that made it work,” said Mikhail in a conference, next to his wife and kids. Curiously, Elliot was not present. His brother attributed the absence to Elliot’s prodigious work-ethic, a trait they have inherited from their grandfather. Their grandfather, who to remind themselves of their Scandinavian roots, bought this mountain.

  This mountain now belonged to Elliot, his grandfather’s favorite. And this mountain, unlike any Tasla exhibit, had no glass to protect her against the plasma the threateningly hovered from above. The clouds glowed even brighter, turning more luminous as they reached the center of the castle. The rain stopped eerily – the eye of the storm.

  The clouds washed the trees in a florescent blue light. Instead of fright she felt mesmerized by raw beauty of nature. Her jaw dropped as, what appeared to be, dancing spiders of light started descending from the clouds and touching the tree tops barely fifteen meters from her. Aliens?

  She wished she had paid more attention to her physics class. It was static discharge of friction caused by difference in air temperature. But something was intensifying their effect. Her amazement peeled away as the spiders of light coalesced en masse descending to the tree tops, illuminating the leaves, marching on the ground closer towards her.

  Oh my!! They’re headed towards me!!

  The path she earlier walked on was now lit bright white. This pure whiteness consumed everything in her environment, except for the wooden door that she slammed with her fists with all her strength. She banged on the door in a cry for desperation. Still there was no answer.

  Her back on the door, she saw that crystals of light quickly approaching her. Magnetized to her. Small puffy crystals of energy climbed the porch and headed towards her toe. With their advance, crisp crackling sounds, tore from all around her. Everything was turning white. Panic sets in. She remembers falling. And crashing into darkness. A wolf standing on top of her.

  I was standing in a large room with a high ceiling. There was something in the light, it was if everything was in sepia tone. Around me were clean-cut gentlemen with groomed moustaches, wearing dress suits and top-hats, the style of the prohibition era. Elegant dresses with corsets fastened to the waist were worn by the ladies.

  There was a man playing the piano. His back was faced against me. While he struck the keys, madly raising his arms and pounding the keys, no sound was produced. In fact, everything was silent. Everyone was talking but the
re were no words to be heard. A bright flashing light from an exploding camera almost blinded me. The crowd looked toward the focus of the camera.

  At the middle of the room was a man wearing a handsome vest that complemented his crisp suit. He reminded me of presenters dubbed “pitchers” in the innovation conferences booths where start-ups showcased their latest digital wares. But there was nothing digital, everything was made of wood and twisted metal. A large object covered in a black blanket stood behind the man. He waved earnestly towards it.

  With the stroke of his arms, the man pulled off the blanket, revealing a large device metal contraption. The device looked like the Eiffel tower crowned at its head with a disproportionately large metal globe. The faces in the crowd turned to delight and I saw them clapping. The man, beaming a proud smile, flicked a switch. I felt the crowd’s anticipation intensified. A lady clutched a man’s forearm.