by Kallie Frost
“Does that mean they weren’t mates? I mean, like us.”
“True mates,” I supplied. “Yes, they were. But they were both born shifters, not humans. My mother, obviously, and was sired by a wolf and my father, a cat.”
“Which makes your mother…” He paused in thought, then remembered the term before I could remind him. “A beta?”
“Yes!” I said happily.
“And alphas are the only ones who can change somebody into an omega?”
“Right. Alphas and betas are born as shifters. Most are betas, actually. An alpha can only be born to a true mate pair. Rarely you do get a pair of beta true mates who give birth to an alpha. And then omegas are turned by alphas. So, our children will be a mix of alphas and betas.” I decided I should probably add, “And we’re only allowed to have four alphas.”
“What do you mean?”
“If we have…” I felt myself flushing. “If we have lots of kids.” Louis nodded and looked surprised, but not opposed to the idea, so I continued. “The Alpha Parliament has a law that states we can’t have more than four alphas. So, if we go nuts and have a bunch of kids, and the first four are all alphas, we have to stop. If the first four are betas… well, we could keep going and have eight, minimum.”
“That’s a lot of children.”
“We heal fast and our gestation is only three months.”
Louis laughed nervously. “Right. Still though…”
“My aunt and uncle have six. Seven with me. And my mother was one of six as well.”
“Wow.” He shook his head in disbelief, before fixing me with a curious look. “Seven with you?”
“My aunt and uncle took me in,” I explained. “I was raised like one of the family alongside my cousins.”
“The ones you've mentioned, who have true mates?” he asked. I nodded. “That must have been nice.”
“It was,” I said.
Louis narrowed his eyes at me. “You don't sound entirely convinced about that.”
I laughed. “Oh, boy. This true mate stuff is going to be tough. You already read me like a book.”
He chuckled nervously. “So? Why wasn’t it nice?”
“It was,” I said. “Truly. My aunt and uncle, and my cousins love me. I have no doubt, but I never fit in that well with them. It made me kind of a loner.”
“How come?”
“Well, for starters, they're all wolves. I'm a cat. We can't play together the same way when we're changed. And they have different concerns than I do during the full moon. And, I don't know, I guess I always kind of kept myself at arm's length, just because…” I sighed. It wasn’t something I had admitted out loud before. “I was afraid for a long time that they’d decide I didn't really belong with them.”
He was nodding along in sympathy, but tilted his head curiously at me when I was done. “What sort of concerns would wolves have that are different than cats? And why full moons specifically?”
“Oh, crap. I didn't tell you that yet,” I said with a weak laugh. “That's probably something you need to know before you make your final decision. During full moons, we turn into our animal form the moment the sun sets, and we can't change back again until it rises, and…” I hesitated. “And we lose control of ourselves.”
Louis frowned in concern. “What do you mean lose control?”
“Essentially we become the animal for a night,” I told him. “We have no memory of what happens during the full moon, nor do we have any control over ourselves. As far as we’re concerned, the sun sets and we wake up the next morning.”
“Oh, he said. “I guess wolves are afraid that they'll go rampaging around attacking people?”
“Actually… that's not too far off.” Well, now I was committed to explaining everything. “First of all,” I said, “I want to make it clear that, over time, shifters have taken great strides to make sure we don't attack people. The hunting drive, particularly in the larger predatory shifters, is quite strong. So strong in fact, that two adult alphas can't be anywhere near each other during the full moon.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Would they hurt each other?”
“They would kill each other. Even cats.”
“Oh… okay.”
“Now,” I said, quickly moving on. “We have what we call bunkers; they're secluded, underground rooms. We lock ourselves in at sunset and we remain there until sunrise.”
“Sounds awful.”
I shrugged. “Sometimes we take turns running free on the island. Although I usually spend full moons in my room at my aunt and uncle’s house.”
“Your bunker, you mean.”
“No.” I shook my head. “My room. I am a cat, after all. I don’t go rampaging about endangering humans…” I turned away, embarrassed. I wasn’t sure all of my cousins even knew I could spend full moons out of my bunker.
“Unlike a wolf.” Louis said softly. He looked at me, and I could see it in his eyes. He understood. “Something else that sets you apart from them.”
I nodded. He wordlessly reached across the table and took my hand, giving it a squeeze. All of the worries about fitting in with my family melted away. No matter what happened now, I had a true mate at last. Assuming, of course, the Alpha Parliament let me turn him. And also assuming he wouldn’t leave me if I couldn’t save his café…
Chapter Six
Louis
“So, I suppose, now that we've got that out of the way,” Cambry said with a wry smile. “We should talk about how I'm going to save your shop. Which is going to be a lot easier now that we’re true mates.”
“You really think you can save it?” I asked. “And why does being true mates make a difference?”
“Well, first of all you remember me, so there won't be any complications from memory loss. Second, after October, I was going back home and you’d be on your own. Now, I’m going to stay.”
“You don't have to go back home in October?” I asked in surprise.
“Not with my true mate here. And that brings me to my next point, since you are my true mate, I have no qualms about dumping as much money as needed into your shop to save it.” My jaw dropped. Before I could even think of what to say to that, he went on. “My half-assed plan before was to just try and give you some pointers, maybe give you a couple of tasty coffee recipes, and then just hope I taught you enough for you to carry on after I left. Now however...” Cambry drummed thoughtfully on the counter for a moment. “Now, just let me know how much you need.”
“H-how much?” I repeated.
“Yeah. I can pay the mortgage, pay bills, buy whatever new supplies you need.” He inclined his head toward the flavored syrups. “I noticed pickings were rather slim. I figure I can just finance the shop and put in enough money to keep it open, and bring it up a notch, until it's good enough to stand on its own.”
I could only stare. “You'd do that for me? That's... that's thousands and thousands of dollars!” I stammered. “I mean, I don't think you realize, I'm in the red. I barely have enough money to keep the shop open as it is.”
He leaned across the table and kissed me on the cheek. His lips were warm and gentle. I leaned into it and practically felt my worries about the shop fade away.
“You're my true mate, Louis,” he said firmly. “If keeping this shop open is what you want to do, then I would give you every penny I have that happen.”
“I can't accept that much money,” I protested. “Do you even have…” I trailed off. I wasn't sure whether or not it was appropriate to discuss finances at this stage in our relationship. Whatever relationship this was.
He seemed to know where I was going with the question. “You know how much a coffee shop like this can make when it’s successful,” he said. “Plus, my family has money. I... actually have a pretty sizable sum of money that I'm not really doing anything with.”
I felt the urge to press for details. I couldn’t say why, but something about the so-called sizable sum of money seemed to bother him. Surely
he didn’t come by it illicitly. Then again, I realized in alarm, I didn’t really know him all that well.
“And you'd give me that money for this shop?” I asked, trying not to sound suspicious.
“No questions asked,” he said flatly. “Although, I suppose if I'm going to save the café, I do actually have to ask questions.” He gestured around. “What's working, what's not? How did a successful shop end up like this? And I will need to know financial numbers, so that I can help pay the bills.”
“Right, right... well…” I looked outside at the still falling snow. “It’s not as if we’re going anywhere.” I leaned back in my chair with a sigh. “Where to begin... First of all, I guess you should understand just how much this place meant to my mother. She saw your shop when I was still pretty young, in fact my dad hadn't even left.” I saw him wrinkle his nose at the mention of my father leaving and it made me smile. I wondered if his parents were the ones who had opened the shop originally. “It was all she talked about for ages. Her dream was to retire and open it. Then she… got sick. Cancer.” It was still hard for me to say the word cancer, but I managed.
“I'm sorry,” he said.
“It took a couple of years and there were ups and downs, but she beat it.” I managed a grim smile. “There was also a little incident that nearly killed her, and she ended up suing for medical malpractice and won a pretty tidy sum of money. She told me that the cancer-scare made her realize life was short, and she didn't want to wait until she retired to start her coffee shop. I had just started college and wasn't living at home, and she swore that starting the shop wouldn't affect her ability to pay for my tuition, not that that mattered to me. I knew opening the shop would make her happy, so I encouraged it. She sold everything. Literally everything she owned and bought this place. She got it, renovated it, pulled everything together... when the time finally came to add some tables and chairs, her budget was nearly spent.”
The memory of the shop in its early days made me chuckle. “She got a bunch of secondhand tables and chairs, none of them matched it all... but that’s sort of what made my mother special,” I added softly. “She put them all together and...” I looked around. The mismatched tables and chairs were still a feature of the shop. At some point or another my mother had painted them all and reupholstered them, all mismatched like they were before, and somehow all looking as if they were a perfect set.
“She had an eye for decorating,” Cambry said, looking around. “I'm making mental notes on what needs to be done and, aside from some freshening up, there really isn't much I would change about the charm.”
“That's good to know,” I told him. One of the things I was worried about if I accepted his help was him changing the shop. As much as I wanted to be able to keep it open, I also wanted to maintain what my mother left behind. “Anyway, you can probably guess the rest. The shop ran for a few years... it was hugely popular. My mother was just a wonderful café owner. Should have been doing it her whole life. And then the cancer came back... her last wish was for me to take over the shop. And I...” I shook my head. “I really wasn't sure what was going through my mind at the time. Sometimes I think that, maybe, I resented her in some way. Not just for leaving me the shop I knew nothing about, but for dying in the first place. Not to mention, I didn't know what I was doing,” I confessed. “I stood in as a barista a few times during college breaks, so I had an idea of what was happening, but running it was... I went to school for political science. I had some lofty goals, and big dreams that didn't include a coffee shop in the middle of nowhere...”
“And you hate coffee and cats,” he said with a grin.
“Yeah, there's that too,” I agreed, glad that he didn’t seem to mind. “Anyway, like I said, it was great for couple of years, several actually. But our employees were usually seasonal, so a lot of the regulars who knew all of my mom's recipes started leaving. About five years or so after she died, I realized that none of my employees were the original once. And a lot of the previous ones would leave without ever thoroughly training the ones that came after them.
“Suddenly, I had a shop full of people who had learned my mother's recipes third, if not fourth-hand. Nobody knew how to repair anything, not even me. And... things just started to kind of go downhill. People complained more and more, stuff started breaking, and I’d do more harm than good by repairing it... and the more people complained, the less kept coming back. And all of a sudden, all the old regulars were gone, and the only people who would come to get coffee were tourists who had never been here before. And they would only come once during their trip. Instead of the locals directing them here, they sent them somewhere else. And the less money I brought in, the less I could afford to repair equipment, and get new ingredients, and buy higher-quality beans... it's just all been adding up over the years,” I finished with a sigh. “I heard that people are calling it the Black Cat behind my back now.”
Cambry’s eyebrows furrowed. “Instead of the Caffeinated Cat? I don’t get it.”
“Because black is the only way the coffee is drinkable,” I said dryly.
“Assholes,” he spat. He turned and looked around. “Well, we’ll show them.” I’m sure he intended it to be somewhat dramatic, but he yawned and ruined the effect.
I couldn't resist yawning as well. ”It's early afternoon,” I grumbled. “I shouldn't be this tired.”
“Some days I’m in bed until now,” Cambry laughed.
“Why is that?”
He shrugged. “Most shifters tend to keep later hours.”
That would take a little bit of getting used to. I was normally an early riser, as were my customers. “What do you do at your shop if you aren’t up early?” I asked.
“I have humans who work the morning shifts.”
He said humans so casually, I wondered if I would ever get used to that.
“And don't worry about being tired,” added Cambry. “You probably didn't get much sleep last night, what with me yowling at your back door.” He smiled at me affectionately. “You did also stay up quite a bit later to make sure I was okay.”
“I did,” I conceded. “But you were awake and trying to get out of here for quite some time while I was sleeping. You must be exhausted. Not to mention you almost froze to death.”
“You know, I could definitely use a nap,” he admitted.
“Shall we?” I offered, gesturing to the upstairs. “There won't be any customers with the snow. And it's not as if we have anything better to do.”
“I hate to take the bed if you're tired, too,” he said. “Unless…” Cambry trailed off his, cheeks reddening.
Well, it wasn't as if I didn't think this would happen sooner or later, being soul mates and all. And the idea of climbing into bed with him and falling asleep together was incredibly appealing.
“I'd love to share it with you,” I said shyly.
He seemed almost relieved and I laughed. I felt just as awkward but at the same time, I didn't see any reason to postpone getting close.
“I am going to let you change me into a cat and claim me as your mate,” I reminded him. “I think getting a little cozy is hardly going to be the end of the world.”
Cambry stood almost eagerly. “Let's get up there then.”
We went up to my bedroom together. I was oddly nervous as we climbed the stairs. I mean, it had been a while since I was intimate with anybody. Not that I was expecting to be intimate with him before we napped, but for some reason, my mind kept going there. My dick was semi-erect as we reached my room. I adjusted my boxers to make it more comfortable, hoping that Cambry didn't notice.
My room seemed smaller than ever, as I sat down on the bed. He joined me and, for a moment, we both just sat there.
“Do you feel nervous and awkward?” he blurted. “Because this is horrible!”
I laughed. “Oh, thank God. I thought it was just me!”
He laughed with me, and I became aware of just how close together we were. The way his fingers on
the bedspread were just brushing against mine. Before I knew what I was doing, I was leaning closer to him. He met me halfway, his lips warm and soft against mine. He smelled of coffee, and tuna sandwich, and some sort of spicy musk. It reminded me of freshly roasted hazelnut coffee, which my mom had been so fond of. I never liked the scent, but now I couldn't get enough of it.
My hands moved of their own accord to his head, tangling in his hair, and I pulled Cambry closer to me. He kissed me back eagerly, his mouth parted and his tongue met mine. I could feel his hands on my shoulders, fisted in my shirt, pulling me even closer.
I moaned involuntarily and his answering moan sent a chill straight through me. It was unlike anybody I had ever kissed before. Whatever awkward feeling I had leading up to this moment was gone. I couldn't even remember that it was awkward. Hell, I could hardly remember anything before this moment. The taste of Cambry, the smell of him, the feel of his hands against me… One of those hands slipped beneath my shirt. His fingers ran over my back, leaving goosebumps where they passed.
We moved together, inching up the bed until I leaned back and felt my head hit the pillow. Cambry climbed on top of me, his weight pressing me down. He looked lithe, but I could feel the muscles under his skin as I ran my hands down his arms to his chest.
“I thought you wanted to take a nap,” he teased against my mouth.
I smiled. “Only if you'd like to.” My lips never left his as I spoke.
He laughed and pressed a harder kiss to my mouth, then pulled back and began to trail kisses down my neck and across my shoulders. The sore spot on my collarbone was practically throbbing, but as his mouth brushed across it, I swear it sent a jolt of electricity through me. I gasped and he chuckled, pressing another kiss to it. Then he bit me, right there. I arched up against him. It didn't hurt anymore. It was nothing but pleasure. Sheer, almost blinding, pleasure.
“Was that it?” I gasped, actually shaking. “Did you just mark me?”
“No,” he laughed. “Not yet, but that might be what it feels like when I do.”