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Conall's Mate: A Macconwood Pack Novel (The Macconwood Pack Novel Series Book 6)

Page 3

by C. D. Gorri


  Conall was up for a game of dip the stick, but he was no one’s lunch. To a Werewolf, biting only happened when you found your mate. He was definitely not about to become mated to anyone, much less someone he hardly knew or even liked.

  That sharp-toothed female hadn’t liked his dismissal. Not one bit. She’d sorta been sending him little threats every now and then. Via small, dead animals and black roses left on his windowsill at night. He really had to see Bal to ask for the Vampire’s help in clearing the matter up.

  “Conall!” his Alpha’s roar reached his ears and he closed his eyes before turning to greet him with a smile.

  Shit. The man did not look happy. Of course, it might have something to do with the resounding chorus of the word bwitches being shouted from the children’s bedroom. He checked his watch, yep, it was naptime, but the Maccon triplets were obviously not sleeping.

  Fuc-, er, fudge. Maybe he should try to ease up on the cursing. He figured if he started in his thoughts, it should make it easier to curb his mouth.

  He walked with his head down to his Alpha’s office and waited for the enormous Werewolf to control his breathing. Rafe was a badass motherfu-ducker. The rumbling growl emanating from his throat had Conall immediately averting his gaze and baring his neck to the dominant male.

  In his mind’s eye, Conall’s Wolf yelped and went belly up for the man as he should. Rafe was a very powerful Alpha. Not only that. He was good, loyal, and more than fair. He’d put up with Conall’s shenanigans a time or two, or twenty, but really, who was counting?

  Conall knew the drill. He waited in complete stillness in the large office until Rafe’s ice blue eyes refocused and the massive male zeroed in on him. He ran a pan-sized hand over his black hair and slammed that same hand back down on his desk in exasperation. When he spoke his voice was barely above a whisper, but it was enough to get Conall’s attention.

  “What did I tell you about cursing in front of the pups?”

  “Awe Rafe,” he began, “I’m sorry, really super sorry. It was the damn Legos fault. I swear it.”

  “You are blaming a child’s toy?”

  “They are not toys! Legos are diabolical.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Rafe, look I was walking down the hall without shoes on, and I swear these little death bricks were hiding in the hall carpet like landmines! I didn’t mean to curse, but I was ambushed,” he explained.

  “You’re a Werewolf. You couldn’t suck it up?” growled his Alpha.

  “And you could?” he answered without thinking.

  “What was that?” Rafe’s eyes glowed and Conall knew he’d fucked up.

  Alpha Werewolves did not like being challenged. Even if only with words.

  Oops.

  “Sorry. Look, I apologized to Charley and now to you. I mean it, man. I didn’t know the pups were watching. Honest, I was just getting back home, removed my shoes and everything so I didn’t make any noise-”

  “Another night of carousing with females at The Thirsty Dog, Conall? Did you at least make sure she was single this time?”

  “That’s not fair, I didn’t know that she-Bear was mated until her significant other got all furry on my ass. Besides, I never touched her!”

  “You know, I had to spend two hours on the phone with the Barvale Clan Alpha to sort out that mess. It was his brother’s mate.”

  “I know that now,” he grinned, “but Rafe, she was so cute with her curly hair and ripped jeans. I’m telling you, she was into me.”

  “She was not into you. You sent her a drink and walked over there without an invitation!”

  “Well, even if I did, I apologized afterwards. Not my fault she giggled when I told her she looked as sweet as apple pie in those hip-huggers she had on.”

  “Dear God, man, you did not tell a mated she-Bear she was sweet as pie? You are lucky her mate didn’t rip your head off, idiot.”

  “I’m sorry! Besides, the chick from last night wasn’t a Bear.”

  “Oh no? Well, what a relief,” Rafe rolled his eyes, “Either way, next time you’re doing the walk of shame barefoot, look on the floor for toys,” grumbled Rafe before he leaned back in the chair.

  “Yes Alpha,” he nodded.

  “I won’t be able to hold back my mate if her sweet pups cuss one more time because of their Uncle Conall, got it?”

  “Oh were you holding her back before? Didn’t notice you when she was pelting my ass with rocks,” he grunted.

  “Just stop with the cursing,” said Rafe.

  “I swear that mate of yours has more power over you than the full moon ever did. Even Randall was looking at Daddy diaper bags the other day, did he tell you that? I don’t know what’s wrong with everyone, no that’s not true, I do know. Once a Wolf gets a mate, it’s like the end of-”

  “What was that?” Charley walked in with two bundles of joy in her arms and one trailing behind her holding Buttercup. The cat hissed and Conall backed up a step.

  “Oh, uh, nothing,” he responded smartly.

  “That’s what I thought,” she said and handed one of the pups to Rafe who nuzzled little Rafaella before reaching out for Charley with his other hand.

  The man was always touching his woman and Conall’s chest squeezed as he watched the family greet each other with hugs and nosy-nosies.

  A-fucking-dorable. But not for him. Being around all these mated Wolves was just making it harder and harder for a bachelor like him to go and sow his oats. That was all. He wasn’t longing for a family of his own. Not in the least.

  “If you will excuse me, Alpha,” he said and attempted to leave the suddenly close quarters.

  “Actually, Conall, I have an assignment for you,” Rafe tossed him a file and Conall caught it out of the air.

  Three hours later, Conall was sitting in the passenger seat of Liam’s jeep and on his way to collect his new assignment. His fellow Wolf Guard was taking him to the small Pack run airport that housed their private jet.

  “So, Ireland?”

  “Yeah, Rafe told Rolf Kelly we’d be able to provide shelter for some dignitary. Apparently, the dude needs protection.”

  “He’s a Wolf?”

  “Yeah, from some small Irish Pack and I have to babysit the fucker.”

  “I see,” Liam grinned, “so you pissed off Charley again, huh?”

  “Oh, man, don’t get me started. All these mated Wolves back at the Manor are so whipped they can’t even be mad for themselves! Rafe has to chew me out because Charley was mad at me on account of those three little pups hearing me curse. Then Seff got all growly because Sherry was mad at me for taking her last bag of herbal tea. I mean, she left it in the kitchen! What can I say? I’ve acquired a taste for the stuff, still-”

  “Yeah, I know, Seff looked ready to rip you a new one,” Liam snorted.

  “Having a pregnant Witch for a wife must be hard on a guy, but there was no reason for him to dump my last box of Fruit Loops on the counter. That was just mean,” he said.

  “Oh shit, you saying being mated has turned my brother into a cereal killer! Ha ha ha!”

  “Shut up,” Conall mushed Liam’s head, but the younger Wolf ducked as he put the Jeep into park.

  “Alright, so I’ll be back here tomorrow 3 am for pick up.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’ll have this sorry ass excuse for a Wolf back here under my awesome protection,” Conall waved and stalked off to the jet.

  The Pack had recently upgraded to a Gulftsream 650ER at a whopping seventy-million dollars. They kept the title under Randall’s corporation, Graves Enterprises, and used it whenever they needed to travel. Privacy was necessary for supernaturals, especially the growly kind. For the first time in a thousand years, Werewolves could Shift outside the full moon. The cold reality of that otherwise awesome fact was that sometimes Wolves had a hard time with self-control. Not him of course, but he had to admit he worked damn hard at it.

  Conall spoke to the pilot for a few minutes before sitting back an
d closing his eyes. Last night had been rough and not just because he’d dodged the stalker female Vampire once more.

  Truth was, his Wolf was anxious about the whole mess. It didn’t want the Vamp. Hell, it didn’t want anyone just lately. And wasn’t that a huge hit to his ego?

  The huge beast was out of sorts ever since he’d started taking count of how many of the original Wolf Guard had fallen victim to mating fever. It was possible his furry side was longing to connect in a way his human side was simply not ready for, anyway he wasn’t admitting that shit to anyone.

  Hell, he’d hardly admitted it to himself. Conall was simply too young and too damn virile to settle down with one woman. It was like trying to imagine eating the same meal every night for the rest of his life!

  Hell to the no. He shook his head and sighed. If that Vamp was going to cockblock him at every turn when he went out, he’d simply have to order in! Some time with his little black book, or in this case, his contact list on his smart phone should fix him right up.

  Plenty of girls would be willing to invite him over to satisfy his beast’s need for female companionship. That’s all he needed. A little lovin’ and he’d be right as rain. No more thoughts of finding a mate.

  Grrr.

  Chapter 2

  “Where is the eejit?” Elia growled as she waited behind the line of trees that gave way to an open field only a mile away from her village.

  She’d left word with Beverly, the Pack house cook, that she’d be preparing her mother’s graveside for the upcoming autumnal equinox. It was a scared ritual, one even Seamus wouldn’t dare interrupt. She cringed just thinking of the Pack house and what it had become. From the place of her most prized childhood memories, to her prison under Seamus’ watchful eye.

  Elia frowned and sent a silent prayer to her mother to forgive her for the lie. She’d hated doing it, but she’d had no other choice. She would not wed the beast of a man no matter what and since she believed with all her heart her parents would want her to live, she’d packed her things and headed to the rendezvous point she’d agreed upon with Rolf.

  The sound of a motorcycle coming down the path had her eyes going wide. The idiot was revving the engine! Didn’t he know they were Werewolves? They’d be heard. She watched in disbelief as the giant blonde-haired man on the bike pulled over.

  The moron was going to get them both killed. Even now she heard the howls and sounds of the Pack search party getting under way. Damn the man.

  “What the hell are you doing?” she hissed coming out from her hiding space and startling a squeak out of the eejit.

  She turned as the sounds of Werewolves grew nearer. Feck! Seamus must have had her followed. They’d noticed she wasn’t at the gravesite and they were hunting her down.

  “Hey, you know a guy named Eliot?” the blue-eyed man on the motorcycle asked in a rough American accent that at any other time would’ve curled her toes.

  “Eliot? What’re you on about? Did Rolf send ya?”

  “What?”

  “Rolf Kelly?”

  “Yeah, I am looking for an Eliot Spark,” he continued.

  His spikey blonde hair stuck up all over the place, but Elia couldn’t help but think he looked just fine with it like that. She wondered if it would be soft or hard under her searching fingers. Shaking her head she tried to focus on the present. There would be time for daydreaming later. If they made it out of there alive.

  “It’s Elia, not Eliot. Anyway, that’s me, Elia Spark, now get goin’,” she jumped on the bike behind him.

  “What?” he asked even as her pulse raced and heart hammered inside her chest, threatening to pound itself right through her ribcage.

  “Come on, we have to go now!”.

  “You’re a girl!” he said and she wanted to smack the fool.

  “Aye, yes, I’m a girl and you’ll be one too if they catch us, come on!”

  “Shit,” he grumbled and revved the engine as the first Wolf came charging towards them through the woods.

  It was Theon. His huge shaggy brown Wolf snarled and lunged forward, almost catching her small knapsack between his fangs. Luckily, the American finally moved his arse.

  She turned and winked at Theon. She knew better than to goad him, but she’d had a special brand of hatred for him. The rat bastard had been one of the men who’d held her poor Archie down as Seamus slit his throat. Elia hated Theon as much as she hated Seamus but she knew better than to tangle with him.

  “I can pull over and fight,” her rescuer began, but she shook her head against his wide back as she clung to his trim waist.

  “There are too many. Rolf said you’d help get me out of here, now move faster!”

  “Hold on,” grunted the American.

  Elia knew male Wolves did not like to be told what to do, but she couldn’t help it. This man clearly had not been given the details of her urgent need to flee. No matter, as they put more distance between her old home and the howling of the Werewolves under her cousin’s rule, Elia was finally able to breathe.

  The second she did get enough energy to suck in a deep breath, she almost took a tumble right off the back of the motorcycle. Holy feck! What was the good Lord thinking sending him here? And now of all times. That’s it, she figured, God must be a man. This was proof!

  “Hey, are you okay?” the gravelly voice asked as one huge hand closed over hers and held her there, she nodded against his back, “Alright, I’m gonna push this bike faster. Don’t go slipping off.”

  The curtly given command rankled with her Wolf, but Elia was still reeling from the revelation of who this man was to her. She could hardly believe it. Taking another deep lungful of his scent, she knew it was true.

  Lavender and morning dew filled her nostrils, making her Wolf whine to get closer. She wanted to weep with joy at the euphoria that filled her blood for the first time in ever. He was her mate. She knew it with every single breath she took.

  This man. This Wolf. This American was hers. Her legs trembled and her stomach turned over, but she held onto him as he weaved through the narrow lanes down to a clearing she’d never seen before.

  He rolled the bike into park and waited as she stood up and off the thing. Her legs wobbled, but Elia was positively frozen. She waited for him to turn around and look at her. Would this be the fairytale ending she’d been waiting for her entire life? Or would he be cruel and cold like Seamus?

  Right then, she was equal parts fear and curiosity. Elia had dreamt about finding her true mate, like any other young pup in her village, but she’d learned hard truths about men since then. Would this male be like the others who wanted to curb and control her? Well, she would have none of that. Still, running away was not an option.

  The airfield was dark, but it didn’t matter. She could see perfectly with her supernaturally enhanced sight. The seconds ticked by and the steady hum of the private jet that waited for them sounded in the background. Elia had never flown before and she’d been looking forward to it. This was her first time leaving her village and Ireland. But none of that mattered at the moment.

  She straightened her shoulders, tears swimming in her eyes as she waited for him to turn around and meet her stare. Her future was on the line here and she needed to know which was worse, the devil she knew, or the stranger with the blonde hair who had the power to bring her to her knees.

  Mate, her Wolf pushed the word at her and she wrestled with her beast’s ready submission.

  A thousand foolish fantasies of her youth filled her brain and she wanted to laugh and sing and cry at the silly childhood fancies, but she couldn’t because she was frozen. Frozen waiting for him to acknowledge her, and them, to claim ownership of what they were to each other. She needed to know how he would respond.

  The man was big and rugged looking in his leather jacket and jeans. A hint of a tattoo on the side of his neck made her wonder what shape would be revealed when he peeled off his clothing. He had the body of a professional athlete, like most prope
rly fit male Wolves. Though, truth be told he towered over anyone she’d ever met.

  His blonde hair was spikey and mussed from the wind. She had the distinct impression he didn’t much care for how others saw him, but rather he dressed to please himself. Something she envied about the stranger. This man that Fate had picked out for her alone was completely foreign and something of a rude arrogant bastard, she soon realized.

  Instead of turning to address her, he adjusted the kickstand on the bike and tossed the keys onto the floor beside it. He straightened and stretched as he stood up, then walked towards the jet, ignoring her completely despite what she knew to be true. What a git!

  He was her mate. And she was his. Even if she didn’t want to be mated at the moment, still, she didn’t think she should be ignored either.

  “You coming or what?” he asked gruffly, but still he didn’t bother turning around.

  “Of course, I’m coming,” she said and adjusted the small pack on her shoulder and followed him up the staircase.

  She was sweaty and dirty from hiding in the woods. Anxiety had taken its toll, and suddenly, she was quite tired. The plane smelled new and clean though she picked up hints of lavender which could only be from him.

  Elia’s eyes widened and she didn’t bother to hide her reactions at the sheer luxury of the private jet. Her village had been primarily agricultural. People didn’t travel or spend what they didn’t have.

  Hmph. Must be nice to have those kinds of resources, she thought as she stood in the center aisle. The fine leather upholstery of the cushioned seats and the immaculate plush carpeting were glorious. Exhausted she moved into one of the aisles that had two chairs side by side. Altogether she counted four rows on each side, followed by two sofas and a small kitchen area.

  Her stomach growled loudly as she settled into the seat, and she closed her eyes on a wave of embarrassment. She hadn’t been able to eat much in the days leading up to this. Still, Elia was used to digs about her weight as a curvier than normal she-Wolf.

  What could she say? She was active, sure enough, but she did have a healthy appetite. Forced to work with the other women had left her little options. It was either food preparation and cooking or sewing and cleaning. She chose the kitchen.

 

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