Claimed by the Alphas (Shifters of Appalachia Book 1)

by Viola Rivard

* * *

  Once her wounds were bound, the color slowly returned to Sable’s cheeks. Lotus stayed by her side beneath the furs, keeping Sable’s body warm. She would live, but not without considerable scarring. It had been irresponsible of her to go off on her own and get herself captured, but the fault lay primarily with Caim.

  Lotus had been right. His impulsive retaliation had jeopardized his entire pack. No one had died this time, but many had been badly wounded. If Asch and the others had not arrived when they did, things might have gone very differently. He might have died. The cats might have breached the den, and then Mila …

  Caim moved to get up, but Fern clamped a hand down on his shoulder.

  “Hold still, hot stuff. I’m not done back here.”

  His jaw ticked with his irritation. The best thing about Fern was that she was almost always gone. “Hurry and finish. I have things to do.”

  As Fern sewed up the lacerations on his back, Caim simmered in his own self-loathing. He knew his mate was safe with Asch. He had seen her in passing a while ago when Asch had brought her up from the underground. What he needed was to get out of the central cavern, away from the wounded, and away from Sable, whose prone form was a constant reminder of his failure as an alpha. He had put his pride before the good of the pack, and they had suffered because of it.

  When his wounds were sufficiently doctored, Fern released him. After checking on Sable one last time, he made his way down the passage that led to his mate’s room, ignoring the stinging pain of his injuries.

  Asch was awake. He sat in bed, his back against the wall. Mila was wrapped tightly in furs, sound asleep in his arms. Watching them together from the doorway, Caim felt as if he were intruding. He did not like the feeling.

  Asch glanced up at him and frowned. “Come get some rest,” he said in a quiet voice. “You look like shit.”

  Caim complied and dragged himself over to the bed. He settled down beside them, gazing over at Mila. She was snoring lightly, a sound he’d grown so accustomed to that it was comforting in its familiarity. Her hand, pale in the moonlight, rested between them, as if she were reaching out to him. He covered it with his own, and for the first time, he felt the weight of responsibility.

  “I feel very weak,” Caim said.

  He thought he saw Asch roll his eyes. “She told me about the cat. It was stupid, but I’m glad that everything turned out the way that it did.” Caim cocked a brow at him. “You were bound to do something like this sooner or later,” Asch explained. “You can’t keep doing things like you used to.”

  Mila made a small sound as she shifted beneath the furs. They both watched her to make sure she hadn’t woken. After she remained quiet for a few moments, Asch went on, “You have a mate. You might be a father soon. All of your decisions will affect them, and you need to think about that before you make them. What you did was stupid, but what’s important is that you learn from it and don’t do it again.”

  Caim listened to the admonishment. His eyes grew heavy as some of the weight lifted from his conscience. Asch had a way of always being able to tell him what he needed to hear. He would learn to be better for Mila, and for his son.

  Despite his tiredness, he remembered there was another issue yet unresolved. “What of Blackthorn?”

  Asch’s expression darkened. “Not good. Talon was gone by the time we got there. Their pack is raising hell all over the area. At this rate, Carter County will have a strong case to get the military involved.”

  Caim stiffened. That was one threat that concerned even him. Human soldiers meant guns, many guns. There was nothing so devastating to their kind as the indiscriminate bullets of a human military. They would raid the countryside, ignorantly gunning down any wolf in their path.

  His hand tightened around Mila’s. “We will go north,” he said.

  “We made a treaty with Tye. If we go north, there’ll be no one to look out for them.” Caim gave him an impatient look. Asch held up a hand. “I know. We’ll talk about it with the others tomorrow.”

  They could talk about whatever they wanted. One way or another, as soon as his wounds had healed, Caim was taking his mate away from the valley.

  Part Six

  Many young and fanciful women speak of love at first sight, but it was simply not that way for me. From the moment I laid eyes on him, all I knew was that he would be nothing but trouble for me.

  It was at least a day later—when we were finally alone—that I dared to press my lips to him for the first time. It was then that I began to fall in love with my son.

  Marie du Luponte, 1931

  An excerpt from Wolves of the Cordilleras

  1

  Mila had gone to sleep in Asch’s arms. In spite of everything that had happened, she’d wanted to do a whole lot more than just be held by him. It had been two weeks since she’d seen him, smelled him, and been touched by him. The man could kiss like nobody’s business, and while Caim was still discovering ways to please her, Asch knew every dip and curve of her body; he knew just how to touch and tease her. Tired from the long trip, the alpha had been immune to her feminine wiles and had insisted she get her rest. There’d be time for that later.

  But when she awoke, Asch was gone. She fumbled around in the bedroll, squinting into the darkness, but there was no one there. For the first time in a while, Mila had woken alone. She sat for a moment and rubbed her head, feeling disoriented. Briefly, she wondered if she’d dreamt of the cats attacking and of Asch’s return. Then, her stomach turned on her.

  Mila shot up from the bed and nearly stumbled over the blankets and furs. Clearing the room in a frantic dash, she barely made it to her tub before losing her dinner. Bile came after the meager portions of venison, which was followed by dry heaving. When it finally passed, Mila felt as though all of the energy had been wrung out of her. She sank to the floor and leaned her head against the rim of the tub, grateful for the feeling of cold metal against her hot flesh.

  She placed her hand over her stomach and knew she hadn’t dreamt any of it. Asch was home, the cats had attacked, and she was pregnant. Her stomach lurched again as if in confirmation. She squeezed her eyes shut, wincing as the wave of nausea passed.

  She looked down at her belly. “So, this is how it’s going to be, kid?”

  Was it too early to talk to it? It probably didn’t even have ears yet—or fingers, or toes. Or did it? Mila ran a hand through her hair and frowned. How far along was she? One week? Two weeks? When does the count even begin? How long would she be pregnant? Nine months, but was that at the beginning or at the end of the nine months? Wasn’t she supposed to take vitamins?

  Question after question raced through her mind only to crash in a horrific pile-up when confronted with her complete ignorance and lack of preparation. Her thoughts spiraling toward self-loathing, she didn’t hear anyone approach until the flap was pulled back on her doorway.

  Brae stepped in, looking as lovely as ever. Her snow-white hair was gathered in a thick braid and tossed casually over one shoulder. Mila had trouble making out her expression in the darkness, but she could tell that Brae was smiling broadly.

  “Mila,” she said emphatically. “I’ve missed you.”

  Reacting on instinct, Mila opened her arms. Brae dashed over and scooped Mila up into her arms. For once, it didn’t bother Mila that they were both naked. She hugged Brae’s cool body tightly. Her eyes misted over at her friend’s familiar touch.

  “I missed you, too,” she said into Brae’s neck.

  Mila let Brae hold her for a couple of minutes until she realized she was mostly leaning on Brae for support. She pulled back but kept a hand on Brae’s shoulder to remain steady.

  “Do you need to rest?” asked Brae, looking concerned.

  Mila waved her hand dismissively. “No, no, I’m okay. How are you? How did things go with, um …” She searched her foggy mind, and then snapped her fingers. “Blackthorn! How did that go?”

  Brae shook her head, smiling. She put her
hands on Mila’s shoulders. “Don’t worry about that stuff. I want to know about you. How are you feeling?” Her grin widened. “What did Caim do when he found out?”

  Mila blinked at her, momentarily confused. At Brae’s expectant look, realization dawned on her. “Oh! You mean the baby. Yeah, he was happy.” Her brows furrowed. “At least, I think he was. We didn’t really have a whole lot of time to talk about it because …” Mila trailed off, remembering how she’d made a total idiot of herself by confessing to Caim that she was in love with him. Her eyes widened. “Is Caim all right?”

  Asch had told her the night before that Caim would be okay and in her relief, she’d never asked him to elaborate. It had been selfish of her. Now, she could add “selfish” to the growing list of reasons she would be a horrible mother.

  “He needed a few stitches, but he’s fine,” Brae assured her. “Are you hungry?”

  Mila expected the thought of food to make her sick again, but instead, her stomach growled loudly. They both looked down at her waist and laughed.

  “Get dressed,” Brae said. “Let’s get you something to eat, and then we’ll talk.”

  * * *

  Caim leaned over the table, feigning interest in the map. River, Fern, and Lotus crowded in close, listening intently to Asch as he pointed to various marks. He summarized the movements of Blackthorn and the areas that would likely be affected, should the military become involved. The small chamber was inordinately crowded. It irked Caim that Asch had involved others in their discussions.

  Maps had never appealed to him. He was familiar with his territory and the surrounding lands in a way that a scrap of paper could never encapsulate. He knew the forests and the water; he knew where the trees broke into vast stretches of plains and where those plains abruptly jutted up to form towering mountain ranges. He knew all the best paths, both over and under those mountains, and he knew where each and every one of his dens was, which bluffs were best to scout the areas, and where the best game was found. None of this was on a map—a map that was drawn by a human, and for all he knew, could be as flawed as the humans were.

  Nonetheless, he humored Asch, peering at the incoherent mess of colors on the glossy paper. As Asch detailed their movements, Caim went through his own list in his mind—one that would get his pack and his mate as far away from danger as possible. Beyond the mountain range that bordered the valley and past the lake shaped like a foot was a deceptively small den and tucked away beneath an obscure outcropping of rocks. If they left tonight and did not stop to rest, they could be there before sunrise. The area around the smaller den was not as defensible, but it was hidden within miles of thick forest and well beyond the boundaries of any human territory.

  Asch drew a line on the map, his arm casting a shadow in the candlelight. “Their primary den was abandoned. They have at least two more that we know of, here and here, and there was no sign of them at either.”

  Fern added, “From what we know of their raid patterns, we deduced their new den must be just north of Gainsville, which suggests that whoever is leading them is both arrogant and idiotic.”

  Caim took a break from his planning in order to listen to the conversation. From what he had gathered thus far, their closest neighboring pack, Blackthorn, had dissolved after the death of its former alpha. His only living son, Talon, had tried to assume command of the pack but was too weak to maintain order. Many of the members of the pack were transplants from a recent merger. They had rebelled against the young alpha, driving him out of his territory, presumably.

  “Do we know how many there are?” Caim asked. Everyone at the table glanced over at him, seemingly surprised by his participation.

  “Hard to say,” River said, scratching his bearded chin. “They had at least twenty members before the merger. I’d imagine they have almost twice that, provided they didn’t split.”

  “I doubt they would divide their pack in winter,” said Caim absently. His mind already moved on to the next matter at hand.

  “We can go back,” said Asch. “Do a more thorough scouting of the area. If they have divided, we can easily take out the rebels.”

  Caim turned to him. “No, we are leaving.”

  He had briefly considered the idea of taking out the pack. If they were divided and leaderless, they would be easy prey. But how long would it take them to besiege the den? It was precious time that would be better spent moving the pack to a safer location.

  Asch shook his head. “I don’t think running is the right move,” he said. “I’m surprised you don’t want to fight for once.”

  “We’re leaving,” Caim repeated and crossed his arms over his chest, “to the small den past the lake. We will leave tonight.”

  It was a strange side of the debate to be on when just hours before, Asch had told Caim he needed to be more responsible and put his mate first. He was not going to send half of his pack away to deal with another pack’s problems and potentially draw fire from human soldiers in the process. Not feeling a need to explain himself, though, he locked his jaw and fixed Asch with an obstinate look.

  Before they could come to any resolution, their attention turned to the doorway. The sound of footsteps was accompanied by the scent of his mate and one of her companions. Her head peeked from around the corner. Realizing she had the attention of the room, she colored slightly.

  “Hi,” she said and gave a small wave before she stepped into the room. The other female, Brae, caught up with her.

  “Mila, we should go eat,” Brae said and took her by the arm. She tried to tug his mate from the room, but Mila shrugged her off.

  “I want to know what’s going on,” she said and looked between Asch and Caim.

  Asch straightened his back and walked over to her. He hooked an arm around her waist. “We’re still trying to figure everything out.” He brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Why don’t you go relax and we’ll talk about it later?”

  She looked up at him and smiled, her brown eyes filled with warmth. Caim’s jaw tightened as a vague jealousy smoldered in his gut. She should look at him that way. He was the one advocating for her health and safety.

  She pressed a hand to Asch’s chest. “I’ll be able to relax once I know what’s going on.” She glanced around the room. “You all look tense. What happened with Blackthorn?”

  With obvious reluctance, Asch explained the circumstances surrounding Blackthorn but glossed over several key details, namely the number of humans who had been killed and the fact that military involvement was very likely.

  While Asch spoke, Caim’s eyes roamed over his mate’s body. Much like maps, clothing was another human convention he had never favored, though he found this was more of a situational dislike. He did not like clothing when he was forced to wear it, and he still disliked his mate wearing clothing to bed; he needed to feel her smooth flesh against his own.

  But during the night, as she moved about the den, Caim enjoyed seeing her clothed. Not only did it hide her body from the eyes of other males, but he also enjoyed the way the clothing played against his favorite curves. Now, in particular, her tight shirt hugged the swell of her breasts. Her nipples, which had been drawn to stiff peaks by the chilled air, drew his eyes. Caim was so wrapped up in thoughts of his mate’s body that he almost missed the shift in the conversation.

  “Really?” his mate asked excitedly. “Will we be able to stop anywhere? Can I pick up a few things from my aunt’s?”

  Asch replied, “No. We may be able to stop at a few places, but we won’t be going to Tye. There’s a very rural town that’s a little closer. We should be able to slip in and out without turning any heads, and then we’ll take the highway north.”

  “What?” Caim interjected and narrowed his eyes on the pair. “We are going through the mountains. It will take us less than two full nights to reach the den.”

  It was Asch’s turn to look obstinate. “I’m not going to argue with you about leaving, but I’m not dragging Mila through the moun
tains for two nights, especially not in the middle of winter. It’ll be better for her if we drive up and meet the rest of you at the den.”

  Caim channeled his anger into his clenched fists. He did not care much for the opinions of others, but in this circumstance, he knew there was nothing he could say in favor of his argument without sounding irrational in front of the beta members of his pack. He knew Asch was right. The northwest mountain range would take a great deal of time to scale in the snow. At the top, the air would be thin and cold. They would not have time to stop and rest. It was not suitable for any human, let alone a female carrying a pup.

  “Very well,” he said tightly.

  2

  A fter breakfast, Mila excused herself to her room to pack. Asch had told her to dress warmly and bring a spare change of clothes. The wolves would bring the rest of her belongings to the new den. She realized she’d never actually unpacked anything except for her clothes. The rest of her belongings were still stored in her luggage, which had remained stacked neatly in the corner for some time now.

  She lit a candle and sat down next to her bags, unzipped them, and rummaged through the contents. On the whole, it was all useless crap with the exception of her copy of Wolves of the Cordilleras. She considered skimming some of the pages, particularly those surrounding pregnancy, but remembered Marie had miscarried her first child and decided she’d rather not think about that right now.

  When she’d first opened her luggage, Mila had been appalled at the lack of foresight and general naivety the contents had conveyed—magazines, electronics, and high-heeled shoes were just a few of the dumb things—but the book had struck a chord with her. It had been one of the few practical things she’d brought with her from Tye County; the book was a veritable primer on living among werewolves.

  Mila heard a rustle of fabric and set the book down. She tilted her head back to see Caim leaning nonchalantly against the stone wall. The light cast shadows over the sharp planes of his body, highlighting his ripped chest and hard jaw line. His severely drawn face was in repose as he regarded her with a perfectly blank expression.