Alpha Returned: A Rejected Mates Reverse Harem Shifter Series (Feral Mates Book 3)

by Sabrina Thatcher

  “My lady!”

  The girls all three gasp and rush to me, worried over my despair.

  “What is it? What can we do to ease your suffering?” they implore.

  At first, I think that there is nothing, but then, a small light, like a candle in the darkest night, forms in my mind and I sit up and look at them from puffy, red eyes.

  “Can you get a message to my family? To the pack up in Nashville?”

  I know it’s a long shot, but right now I’m willing to try anything.

  They hesitate only a moment.

  “Yes! Yes, if you send us out to do more shopping, we will have a chance to get your message out,” Elise promises me.

  They give me paper, and I write to my boys, and to Conan, telling them of the journey, assuring them that I am all right, and letting them know that Isla is not at my side, but that I’ve been assured she is being taken care of. I tell them the truth; that she’s chained up, but that no one can get to her or it will cost her her life.

  I write that I am strong, and that I will get through this. I tell them to let me work it out, and not to come for us. I tell them how much I miss them and love them, how I wish I was with them, and I promise them that someday we will be together again, somehow.

  The girls take it.

  “We’ll make sure it gets there.” They swear it to me. I send them out shopping, and I bury my face in the pile of pillows on my bed and weep, because half of that message was a lie.

  I told them not to come for me, but that’s all I want in the world. All I want is them.

  Chapter Eight

  I sleep without dreaming, and before I even open my eyes, a swell of sorrow and longing washes through me. I ache for my boys. How I wish that I was with them. I thought that I could do this; marry Rylan and be away from them to save them. I knew I’d miss them, but I never thought it would be this bad.

  I’d give anything to feel their arms around me, to hear their voices, and see their faces, but that’s not possible.

  The girls are in the other room; I can smell them and hear them even though they’re being very quiet. This is my life now, and I know the best way through it is to take it one day at a time. Right now, I need to focus on getting Isla out alive and safe, however that might happen.

  I push myself out of bed and before my feet touch the floor, the girls come in and I can smell coffee brewing. It makes me smile a little, and that’s something I choose to hold on to. Every positive thing, no matter how small, will help.

  Rylan’s outburst yesterday meant he still didn’t want to see me by the time dinner came around, but I doubt I’ll have the same luxury today. I’ll take my privacy from him when I can.

  I nibble some breakfast in the sitting room and I’m out of the door not long after that. I didn’t see the whole compound yesterday; there’s no way I could have in just one day because it’s far too big. I plan on discovering more today. I want to know where Isla’s being kept. Even just knowing will give me some peace.

  I make it to the next block of buildings behind my quarters and discover small courtyards and gardens along the way. This place is a maze of structures and natural growth. It’s like a Mediterranean villa on steroids, with continuing gardens, statuary, and varying courtyards all throughout.

  I go to the fountain in this one and take it in. It’s a series of bowls; the largest at the bottom, with each successive one above it gradually growing smaller until it reaches the top. It’s peaceful to listen to the water cascading downward, the rush of it drowns out the sounds of everything else around me—even my own thoughts.

  It’s a momentary reprieve that I’m eternally grateful for.

  “Good morning.”

  The voice startles me, and I’m stunned that I didn’t hear anyone coming. I spin on my heel with a gasp, and a half-laugh escapes me when I see Sergei standing there. I should have known. So far, he’s found a way to turn up just a little too often. I still don’t know what to make of him.

  I’d like to trust him, but it’s too soon to tell. He could be testing me for Rylan.

  “I’m sorry, you startled me.”

  “Did I? It’s difficult to sneak up on a shifter,” he says, watching me just a bit too closely.

  “I guess I was listening to the fountain, and my mind was somewhere else.”

  He gives me a friendly smile. “I was passing by and saw you. I thought I’d stop for a moment. How are you doing?”

  “I’m all right.” I shrug. I don’t want to admit to him how miserable I feel inside. I’m trying to make the best of the situation, and if I don’t say it out loud, then I won’t hear it spoken in my own ears, and maybe I’ll believe myself more about being able to make it here without my mates.

  Even if I know I’m fooling myself with every passing moment.

  I see deep comprehension in his face, but he changes the subject.

  “Were you able to find the grotto and the statue?”

  My shoulders sag a little, and I cross my arms over my chest, over my hurting heart. “Yeah, I did. Thanks.”

  He tilts his head thoughtfully. “You sound … disappointed.”

  I pause for a second, considering whether or not I can tell him the truth. I settle on yes … for now. This, at least, shouldn’t damn me either way.

  “It’s just that every other time I’ve been around a statue of the goddess, there’s a really strong vibration that moves from her through me. I don’t know if that sounds weird … but we have, or had, a powerful connection, and yesterday it just wasn’t there. That’s never happened before.”

  He grows thoughtful, and glances around to make sure that no one else can hear us, then he speaks low to me. “I only meant for you to find solace there, but … if you want to reach the goddess there, you must have the Crescent Moon Pendant. Unfortunately, it’s put away in Rylan’s personal chambers.”

  “A pendant?”

  Sergei nods subtly. “Yes, it calls her to the statue. It used to be a part of the Nashville pack, back when they had a name.”

  My heartbeat quickens a bit. “The Nashville pack … was it called the Crescent Moon pack, then?”

  A slight smile pulls at the corner of his time-worn face. “You’re a fast learner.”

  The Crescent Moon Pack. The name has a sort of ring to it. It brings to mind the shape of the table at headquarters.

  I’m surprised Roman or Isla never mentioned it, but then again, there’s a lot they never got around to—what with the little time we had together.

  “And this pack?” I ask, before I get too lost in thoughts that will only mire me down.

  “The Sentinels.”

  Militant. Cold. Fitting.

  “But this pendant …” I start again, before I forget. “This Crescent Moon pendant, what’s it supposed to do?”

  Again, that unreadable smile tugs.

  “It opens up the barrier between our world and hers,” he says, his voice dropping just a little. “This isn’t consecrated ground; it isn’t her ground, so she does not dwell here. You would feel her presence in places where the ground is consecrated, and where those who follow her worship her deeply. Those connections are made and kept alive. That’s not the case here.”

  My heart picks up its pace, and I take a step closer to him. “I need that connection. I can’t even begin to tell you how much. How could I get the pendant? Should I ask Rylan for it?”

  Sergei shakes his head. “No, he’d never give it to you. He forbids worship of the goddess here by anyone. He feels that he’s the one with the true power, as king.”

  I detect a hint of something in his voice, but it’s hard to tell what—he keeps his own emotions in check. Hidden from me, and any prying shifters who might be nearby. Who are almost guaranteed to be close by.

  He pauses a moment, carefully considering what he says.

  “If you were to get it, you’d have to do it without him knowing it, and you must not be caught. He’d kill the punishing girl over that, or he mi
ght even take it out on you. If you do find a way to get it, there is a space within the stone above the altar where the pendant fits. Once pressed into the depression in the stone there, you’ll be able to commune with the goddess.”

  “Thank you,” I murmur. “I appreciate you telling me. I’ll keep this between us. I’m sure you’d be in danger for telling me.”

  “Thank you, I would be.” He turns to leave, but then looks back at me again. “If you do go, you should do it soon. The punishing girl’s arm is in a cast, and soon she’ll be required to follow you around to take your punishments for you, should you get in trouble again. You won’t be on your own. I’d go as soon as you’re able to. There’s a guard that patrols that balcony and courtyard, but Rylan will be out of the compound this afternoon. It might be a good time to … explore.”

  He winks at me, and I give him a big smile as he leaves me.

  Ally or not, at least I have something to keep my mind occupied. And if it brings me closer to the goddess … well then … only good can come from that.

  Or so I hope.

  I desperately hope.

  Chapter Nine

  I spend the rest of the morning and midday walking through the compound, but my mind remains singularly focused on this one task. Get into Rylan’s quarters and find the pendant. I keep my eyes open for Isla’s cell, but she could be anywhere, and nothing I see seems to be the right place.

  The minutes feel like hours, but eventually the time does finally come. I keep close to the front courtyard, the enormous one that we drove into when we first arrived through the giant iron gate. That courtyard could fit five hundred people easily, so it’s not too hard for me to walk slowly at the far end of the inner perimeter, seeming to merely be on an exploratory stroll.

  A black SUV comes into the courtyard, and I see Rylan get into it. I watch from behind a post as the great iron gate rolls back into the wall of the compound and then closes once more after he’s through it.

  Now is my chance.

  I walk swiftly, but not so fast that it might look out of place, and go directly to his quarters. For once I’m glad that mine are beside his. I step onto the second level from the stairs and see the guard patrolling the balcony. I know I won’t be able to get into Rylan’s rooms if the guard is around, so I head to mine, and he watches me. I close the doors behind me and hurry to one of the windows overlooking the balcony and courtyard, determined to wait until he’s gone.

  After what feels like an hour, he finally walks down the stairs and into the courtyard, disappearing to do a round on the outside of these buildings. I run to the doors and slip out of them, looking around to make sure no one else is there. The coast is clear.

  I fly along the balcony and don’t stop until I reach his quarters. When I try the doorknob, I’m more than a little surprised to find it’s unlocked. Glancing back over my shoulder once, I see that I’m still alone, and with my heart racing in my chest, I duck inside and close the door behind me.

  His rooms are fitted out with dark beams, just like the rest of the compound. The walls and thick carpet are a deep, warm, burnt-red, with white accent walls here and there, adjacent to windows where dark wooden shutters are drawn closed. There’s very little light, so I find a switch and flip it.

  Everything my eyes move over feels luxurious in the extreme. Dark wood furniture with leather covers. Elegant paintings done by masters of old hang beneath special lighting. Every bit of metal I can see is gold.

  I’m in his sitting room. It’s entirely masculine looking, whereas mine is feminine—a pair built to complement the mates they were designed for. Just the thought makes my stomach turn, even as a brief flash of Rylan’s face surfaces with an emotion I’m not quite sure of. I push it back, chalking it up to the bond we share and nothing more.

  I peer around the room, wondering if he might have put the pendant in here somewhere, but there’s really nowhere that looks like it might be right. There are chairs and small tables, lamps and artwork, but nothing else. Not even plants, which is strange, considering everything outside his home is filled with greenery.

  I walk through the room and go to the next. It’s a combination of a den and an office. I hurry to the desk with its chair near the wall. It’s placed strategically so he can see anyone walking in the front door in the sitting room from this chair, even from the den.

  He’s smart. I’ll give him that.

  I reach for the drawers and pull them open one by one, and in each one I find nothing out of the ordinary. The top of his desk is spotless. There’s nothing on it save an expensive blotter and a contemporary golden light.

  With a sigh, I leave it and look at the rest of the room. There are a few shelves with a couple of books here and there, and simple ornamental objects with them. There’s an old globe in one corner, standing on three legs. It’s as big as a chair. I wander over to it and set my fingers on the sphere, meaning to give it a spin. It doesn’t move.

  I leave it and head into the next room. A library, twice the size of mine.

  Finally, a place where something might be hidden.

  Every shelf is filled with old books, leather-bound books, and volumes of sets. There’s a large, black marble fireplace against one wall, accompanied by two lush leather armchairs. I gaze carefully about the room and take note of the mantle above the fireplace. There’s an old, delicately carved wooden box sitting to one side, and a black framed photograph opposite it. I look at the photo. It’s a young Rylan, perhaps eighteen or so, standing with an older man who looks a great deal like him. I suspect it’s his father.

  I reach for the box and examine it. It’s beautiful, and I can tell by its weight that it’s hollow, but I can see no way to open it. I give it a shake. Something inside it thumps around. I look the box over again and sigh in frustration. There’s no way to open it. I set it back up on the mantle irritably and look around again. Nothing else stands out.

  There are a set of highly polished dark wood pocket doors at the far side of the library. I walk to them and slide them open. The color scheme of black and burnt-red with white accents has continued throughout his quarters. This is his bedroom. His bed and mine are twins. It’s a dark wooden four poster bed, king sized, draped in sheer white linens, and stacked at the head with thick pillows. For a moment everything in me freezes, and I think of his words to me … he wants his wedding night with me. A union of our bodies, probably in that bed. My heart thuds heavily, and I rip my mind from the unbidden visualization. There are far more important things to think about.

  A loveseat is set under a window against one wall, and I find a tall, dark mahogany cabinet that looks like a wardrobe against the wall opposite his bed. I go to it and open the doors. It’s an entertainment center, and nothing more. I close the doors and sigh as I turn to face the room again. Apart from some artwork, there’s nothing I can see that might hide a pendant.

  Just for good measure, I check the bathroom. It’s bigger than mine, though with the same amenities. Like the rest of his rooms, it’s spotless. Not so much as a speck of dust, and certainly no sign of what I’m so desperate to find.

  Frowning, I leave the bathroom and scrutinize his room once more. There’s nothing. I step into the library and take another close look. None of the books are fake books as a prop to hide something, at least as far as I can tell.

  I could search these rooms for weeks and find nothing.

  I go back to the box and give it another look—it’s the only thing that might turn out to be something. Going to it, I take it down and give it a shake. Whatever’s in it is solid. I move my fingers all over the box, trying to find an opening, but there’s nothing. Enormously frustrated, I lift the box to set it back up on the mantle when something on it moves slightly beneath my thumb.

  I blink and bring the box back close to me. My thumb has moved a thin panel of wood at the front of the box, just a little, but enough that I’m fascinated with it. I push a bit more, and the panel of wood slides out sideways, coming
off of the box completely. I knit my brow and realize as I stare at the box that I’ve heard of something like this before.

  It’s a Chinese puzzle box.

  I feel my heartbeat quicken.

  Even if I don’t find my pendant, I’m sure to find something useful inside.

  Pushing gently, I find that I can move the bottom righthand edge of the box outward, and I can easily see that there’s no way I could have done it if I hadn’t taken the first piece out.

  Wedged inside a groove in the second piece is a tiny key. I take the key out and begin to search every tiny panel on the box, only to discover that I have to move two more pieces before I finally uncover a keyhole. I slip the key into it and turn it. The lid of the box opens, and I see another panel of wood inside like a second lid.

  There’s a labyrinth engraved into it with small deep grooves. Inside one of the grooves is a tiny metal ball. I tip the box slightly, and the ball rolls along one of the grooves within the labyrinth. I get it. I have to solve the labyrinth to open this second lid.

  Biting my lower lip, I gently tip the box one way and the next, guiding the ball along without touching it. Part of me wishes I could reach in and grab the ball, so I could set it at the center, but the grooves are such that they curve up ever so slightly at the top, locking the ball inside, like a hollow tube with just enough opening at the top that I can see it.

  There are holes along the paths to the center, and I know that if I lose the ball down one of those holes, I will not be able to open the box. Painstakingly, I get the little sphere going one way, and then another, and all the while I’m barely breathing, but I don’t notice it until the ball finally drops into the hole at the center of the box, and the wooden lid lifts.

  It’s then that I finally take a big breath.

  My body tingles from head to toe as I reach in. I close my fingers around a cool piece of stone and pull it out. It’s pure white, and stunningly carved with intricate designs in the shape of a crescent moon, and at its top is a soft leather rope, the thickness of a pencil.