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Автор: Rachel Vincent
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Зарубежное фэнтези
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781408905654
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      Praise for the novels of New York Times bestselling author

       RACHEL VINCENT

      “I liked the character and loved the action. I look forward to reading the next book in the series.”

      —Charlaine Harris, author of the Sookie Stackhouse novels

      

      “Compelling and edgy, dark and evocative, Stray is a must read! I loved it from beginning to end.”

      —New York Times bestselling author Gena Showalter

      “Vincent’s urban fantasy series features a well-thought-out vision of werecat social structure as well as a heroine who insists on carving her own path, even if it means breaking some of her society’s most sacred taboos.”

      —Library Journal

      “I had trouble putting this book down. Every time I said I was going to read just one more chapter, I’d find myself three chapters later.”

      —Bitten by Books

      “Vincent continues to impress with the freshness of her approach and voice. Action and intrigue abound and Faythe is still a delight.”

      —RT Book Reviews

      Alpha

      Rachel Vincent

      

       www.mirabooks.co.uk

      Find out more about Rachel Vincent by visiting mirabooks.co.uk/rachelvincent and read Rachel’s blog at urbanfantasy.blogspot.com

       Shifters series

      STRAY

      ROGUE

      PRIDE

      PREY

      SHIFT

      ALPHA

      

       Coming soon…

       Soul Screamers series

      MY SOUL TO TAKE

      MY SOUL TO KEEP

      MY SOUL TO SAVE

      MY SOUL TO STEAL

      To everyone at Mira Books whose unsung efforts behind the scenes helped make this, my debut series and first venture into publishing, the experience of a lifetime.

      

      To all the friends I’ve made through my writing. You’ve kept me sane—or at least convinced me that I’m not alone in my neuroses.

      

      And finally, to all the Shifters readers who have stuck it out with Faythe and with me as we grew and learned. This has been an amazing journey, and I’m so thankful for everyone who travelled it with me. I’m not bowing out, but this is Faythe’s last hurrah. Thanks for helping me send her off in style…

      Acknowledgements

      Thanks to Kim, who first saw potential in me and in Faythe. Yours was the first real vote of confidence in me and I will never forget it.

      

      Thanks to my agent, Miriam Kriss, who made it all happen.

      

      Thanks to my editor, Mary-Theresa Hussey, for kick-starting this project and seeing it through. I appreciate both your gentle nudges and the occasional neon flashing arrow.;-)

      

      And thanks to Number 1, who takes care of so many practical concerns, so I can spend so much time in my fantasy world. This series would not have been the same without you.

      Chapter One

      “Are you sure about this?” Jace hesitated, one hand gripping a bare branch overhead, the other poised over his zipper. But I could see the truth. He wanted this as badly as I did.

      “Absolutely.” I pushed my last button through the hole and let my shirt fall to the ground in a patch of mottled sunlight. My skin was already covered in goose bumps, as much from anticipation as from the February cold. “Now shut up and take off your pants.”

      He shrugged and grinned. “You know I’m always up for some sweaty fun.” But the look in his eyes as his gaze roamed south of mine belied his casual zeal. Part bloodlust, part real lust, and all exhilaration—just like me.

      “I’m not sure that’s quite how I’d describe this.” Not that I wasn’t looking forward to a little action. It had been days, and I was really starting to crave—

      “What the hell is this?” Marc growled, an instant before he tore through the brush to my left. Sunlight burst into the woods with his intrusion, spotlighting my exposed bra and Jace’s…total nudity. Damn, that boy’s fast! Fury emanated from Marc like a deep, dark glow, emphasizing his strong, dark features. “You are not doing this without me.”

      Shit. “Marc, this isn’t what you think, and we don’t have time to explain…” My eyes narrowed as his last few words finally sank in. “Wait…what?

      “I said, not…without…me.” His brow rose in silent challenge, and all words abandoned me.

      I blinked, lost for a moment in the possibilities, then I shook my head to clear it. “But we’re not…” I waved one hand back and forth between me and Jace, unable to actually vocalize what he surely thought we were doing. “We’re going after Ryan. I caught a whiff of him on my run.”

      “Vic told me.” Yet he was still clearly pissed, even knowing Jace and I hadn’t run off for a secret, midday tumble in the…underbrush.

      “You didn’t tell my dad…?”

      Marc had been talking war strategy with my father when I’d come in from my run, and I hadn’t told them where we were going because I didn’t want my dad to know about Ryan. Not when we could easily take care of the problem ourselves and spare him—and my mother—the additional tension.

      He shook his head slowly, as if doubting his own decision. “Ryan’s the last thing he should have to deal with right now.”

      “Yeah.” And I was really looking forward to the exercise, to burn off a little stress through good, clean exertion. As opposed to the other, sweatier kind, which we were all currently denying ourselves, to keep Marc and Jace from killing each other.

      Whoever said two is better than one was either stupid or crazy. Or heartless.

      “I’m coming with you, so get dressed. Now. You’re not Shifting.”

      “Do not start ordering her around,” Jace growled, and dread pitched deep in my stomach, like nausea with a heartburn upgrade.

      Marc snarled, and I saw the instant he lost control of his temper. He lunged for Jace. Jace leaped forward. I threw myself between them.

      Both hard bodies slammed into me. Air exploded from my throat. My grunt of pain hardly carried any sound. For just an instant, I couldn’t move, crushed between them, confused by the collision of scents and hurting all over. My torso was one giant bruise—I wouldn’t have fared much better between two oncoming cars.

      I’m not sure which of them moved first, but suddenly I was on the ground, staring up at two concerned, angry faces. “Damn it, Faythe, you’re going to get yourself killed,” Marc snapped.

      I sucked in a painful breath, and my voice came out hoarse. “Evidently that’s what it takes to keep you two from killing