Alpha Arrangement: A BBW BWWM Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance (Arcane Affairs Agency)

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Alpha Arrangement: A BBW BWWM Bear Shifter Paranormal Romance (Arcane Affairs Agency) Page 6

by Camille Laurent


  “Jesus, could you stop saying that? It’s crass,” he said as he buried his face in his hands.

  “I will if you stop criticizing me.” I winked at him and wiped my clammy, stained palms on my jeans.

  “Fine. Just…” he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m tired. Let’s identify a target some other time. And wear gloves, for Christ’s sake. Cover those stains.”

  “Whatever you say, Steven…”

  I had one goal: to bring Aubrey back into my life by all means necessary. And if she refused, or fought back…well, I’ll just end hers.

  Simple as that.

  Part Two

  Chapter 6: Aubrey

  To be honest, I've never been on a date before. Well, okay, I have, but nothing as serious as this. Was it even a date? I didn't know. Part of me was hoping it was. The other part of me was terrified.

  I was mortified that I had lost my composure in front of Mason. As Alpha, I'm expected to be the face of my clan — what did he think of me and my clan now but I was basically a blubbering mess in front of him? I didn’t show strength, I showed fear. Guess what? That automatically made me his inferior.

  On the other hand, he did say that we were similar, right? And he seemed to be sympathetic. Perhaps he was putting on a front. Mason had a reputation for being cold and opinionated — seeing him be so kind to me was not what I expected from him.

  My bear was normally fierce, dominating, and driven around other alphas, but for some reason she was subdued with Mason. She was strangely calm, like she finally had a place to rest her head and raise her cubs. I could tell she saw something in him that I didn't see — or didn't want to see. She knew he was my mate.

  Nope. No way. No way in hell.

  I’m normally pretty “in sync” with my bear, so the amount of discord between us as of late was unsettling. I usually listen to her instincts faithfully...except when it comes to people. With Gregory, she told me to kill, to go for his blood…but I didn't. She could sense he was a threat from the very beginning while I pitied him.

  “I suck at this,” he said, slapping his forehead with his palm, leaving a red handprint above his brows.

  “No, you don't. You just have to keep trying. We’ll do this again. The number of protons in carbon is —”

  “Why don't you just quit, like the rest of them? Just give up on me.”

  “I'm not going to do that.”

  “You're an idiot.”

  I sighed. “Maybe I am. Let's keep working on this, okay? We only have two problems left.”

  “Can I take a break?”

  “Sure,” I said, not wanting to push him over the edge. “Take as long as you need.”

  He stood up and ripped his homework from my hands before smiling. “You're such a fucking pushover, you know that? Pathetic bitch.” He laughed as he calmly strolled out of the classroom.

  He only escalated from there, but the abuse patterns stayed the same: he'd lure me in with self-pity, follow up with anger and violence, and then apologize the next day. He said I was his only friend, the only person who had given him a chance, so I put up with him for our entire junior year of high school. I finally gathered the strength to cut him off our senior year.

  My bear wanted to slit his throat. I'd kill him in a second. I was the strongest in our grade. He stood no chance.

  My biggest regret was that I didn't.

  He's the reason I'm so skeptical of Mason. He may seem friendly at first, but who knows what he's capable of. My bear trusts him, though, and I can't deny that I feel whole with him around. It's like nothing I've ever felt before.

  I tensed my shoulders and looked at the antique eggshell white vanity that belonged to my great-grandmother. Next to the center mirror, there was a picture of my parents and me when I was a little girl, no older than five. I smiled and held it close to my heart. I was learning how to ride a bike, and they were holding onto me so I wouldn't fall. I remembered how safe I felt around them, like I could never get hurt if they were with me.

  “I wish you were here, Mommy and Daddy. I could really use you right now,” I said while looking at their smiling faces.

  I gently set the picture down and looked at the makeup strewn around the vanity. If it turned out to be a date, putting on nice makeup would be a plus. If it wasn't a date, I might look weird if I was overdressed.

  He’s your mate. He won’t care what you look like.

  I sighed and decided I was too lazy to put any on. Instead, I put on some deodorant and perfume and checked my phone. I had 15 minutes to get to Mason’s house — plenty of time to put on my favorite pair of jeans and a t-shirt and rock out to some Beyoncé and Destiny’s Child.

  ***

  I'd never seen the Fortescue mansion up close. It was nestled amongst massive redwoods and pine trees, and contained a small, crystal clear artificial lake in the center of their property. Their mansion was a massive rustic wood and stone home about three stories high, with floor-to-ceiling windows covering the face of the mansion. There were two wraparound balconies on the first and second floors, which were enclosed with wrought iron fencing. I could see a massive crystal chandelier in one of the windows, which shimmered and illuminated the entire room.

  I approached the massive front door, my hands shaking. My bear could barely contain herself. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door, unable to shake the feeling that I was making a huge mistake.

  After stewing in anxiety for what seemed like eternity, the massive double doors swung open and revealed a shirtless Mason.

  “Hey,” he said. “Sorry for the delay. I just got out of the shower.” He gestured to the foyer. “Please, come on in and make yourself comfortable.”

  The Fortescue mansion smelled like vanilla and pine, mixed with the faintest scent of garlic and seared steak. The walls of the foyer were adorned with giant pictures of different members of the Fortescue clan, with Mason’s picture resting front and center on top of a large black marble fireplace.

  “Have a seat,” he said as he gestured to a black velvet couch in front of the fireplace. His damp hair barely grazed his broad and defined shoulders. His six-pack abs glistened in the light, and his Adonis belt made it hard for me to concentrate…

  Oh god, stop checking him out. You’re basically fucking him in your head. His eyes are up there, Aubrey.

  I cleared my throat and quickly sat down, trying to avoid his potentially knowing gaze. He came back after about 15 minutes, and his squeaky Converse shoes loudly signaled his arrival. He was wearing a simple white V-neck and dark wash jeans, with a deep brown leather jacket that was starting to develop a natural, rich red patina. “I was thinking we could go to Mirror Lake,” he said. “What do you think?”

  “I love Mirror Lake. My dad built a secret little cabin there where I go to run away from my problems,” I said, forcing a laugh. “I’ve been there a lot lately.”

  He smiled — his brows wrinkled adorably when he smiled. “I bet, there’s been a lot going on that we could both use a break from.” He grabbed a pair of sunglasses from the coffee table in front of me. “You probably know how to get there better than I do,” he said with a wink. “I’ll let you lead the way.”

  ***

  “Tell me something,” Mason said, picking a stem of lavender from a bush right off of the trail. “Connor and Emma are in a relationship now, right?”

  “Well, yeah, but Emma likes to say they’re ‘friends with benefits’.”

  “Friends with benefits, my ass. They’re a couple if I’ve ever seen one.” He picked a spider web off of the stem and flicked it away. “Emma seems nice, though, but if she messes with Connor, it’s going to be war between our clans,” he said with a wink as he offered me the lavender stem.

  “Oh, how lovely,” I said, making no attempt to highlight the sarcasm in my voice. “Is this a war offering, or something?”

  “Nah,” he said, “Consider it an offer of friendship.”

  “I accept,” I s
aid. “Look at us now, Councilman Black. We’re being friends and shit.”

  “Fuck that guy. My first job after merging the clans will be to forcibly remove his head from his ass.”

  “Allow me to join you,” I said.

  When we arrived at the lake, we sat on the chairs on the porch and watched the sunset; the pink and orange glow made the lake shimmer and dance in the waning light.

  “Nice view,” Mason said, his voice low and soothing. “Your parents chose the right spot, that’s for sure.”

  “They certainly did,” I said as I rested my chin on my hands. “They loved this place.”

  “I can see why.” Mason peeled off his leather jacket and set it gently on the empty chair between us. “So, let’s get to know each other, like we said we would.”

  “Let’s,” I said. I sucked at this kind of thing.

  “I’ll start. My name is Mason, I’m the Alpha of the Fortescue clan, and my favorite color is blue.” He flashed me a huge, child-like smile. This was very much not the stone-cold and diplomatic Mason I was expecting.

  “My name is Aubrey, I’m —”

  “Oh! Almost forgot.” He sat up straight in his chair. “I fucking love whiskey. Most important thing to know about me.”

  “Nice. I’m a vodka girl, myself.”

  “Can’t ever say no to vodka,” he said, placing his hands behind his head and stretching his long legs.

  “I actually have some Stolichnaya Elit in the freezer. We imported it from Russia. It’s pretty top-notch, if I do say so myself.” Thank God. Maybe alcohol will make me loosen up a bit.

  “I’ll try to find it. You just sit here and relax.”

  “I’ll try,” I said with a chuckle and an eye roll.

  “Yeah, that’s pretty much impossible for us, isn’t it?” he said, his voice trailing off as he disappeared into the cabin.

  I took a deep breath and let the smell of pine and dusty wood fill my lungs. So far, so good. You haven’t been too embarrassing yet. Don’t start crying again.

  My bear felt like she was at ease — a feeling I hadn’t ever felt to this extent before. She became a bit restless the moment Mason went inside, as if she needed to be near him at all times. It was a bit unsettling at first, but oddly comforting.

  “Want any mixers?” Mason yelled from the kitchen. “Looks like you have Coke, cranberry juice…”

  “Cranberry juice is fine.”

  He came out balancing two shot glasses, a jug of cranberry juice, a crystal drinking glass, and the thin glass bottle of Stolichnaya.

  “Damn, what a balancing act,” I quipped.

  “Story of my life,” he said as he gently placed everything on the splintered wooden coffee table. “I’ll pour you a shot.”

  “No mixer for you?”

  “Hell no. I drink everything straight,” he said with a wink.

  “Oh, look at you, Mr. Badass.” I grabbed the cranberry juice and poured it into the crystal glass, and then dumped my vodka into it.

  “So, tell me more about yourself, since I rudely interrupted you earlier.”

  I tapped my finger on my chin as I thought. “I also like the color blue, my favorite type of food is Italian, and I watch Netflix way more than I should.”

  “Nothing wrong with that,” he said. “What type of bear are you?”

  “California black bear,” I said. “And you’re a California grizzly, right?”

  “Yep. Last of my kind, as I’m sure you’ve heard,” he said as he took his first shot. “Damn, this vodka is smooth. Excellent choice.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Were you close to your parents?” he asked, turning his chair so that he was facing me a bit more. “I hope that’s okay to ask —”

  “Yeah,” I said quietly. “It is. I was very close to them. They were my best friends.”

  He folded his hands in his lap and studied my face intently. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  “Thanks.” I felt myself begin to choke up as I took a sip of my cocktail. “What about you?”

  “I’m secretly a mama’s boy, but don’t tell anyone.” He wagged his index finger at me and narrowed his eyes before laughing. “I don’t know my dad too well. He left when I was really young.”

  “And your mother is a councilwoman, right?”

  “Yeah, but she hates it. She dreaded the day she turned 65 — she even debated fleeing the town to avoid being appointed to the Council.”

  “Is it mandatory?” I didn’t know too much about how the Council operated.

  “For her, yes, because she’s the only Fortescue over 65. There’s one representative per family unit, usually. There are some exceptions.”

  “Interesting.” There were so many things I wanted to ask him, but I was far too nervous to say anything. Besides, I’m sure asking something like “I think you’re my mate. Tell me I’m crazy, okay?” is a social faux pas. You’d think all my years of reading Cosmo and Seventeen would’ve prepared me for this shit.

  Thankfully, I was able to feign social competence for the remainder of the conversation. We sat and watched the pink and orange lake slowly turn to a deep azure. The temperature dropped fairly rapidly, and goosebumps began to form on my chilled flesh.

  “Cold?” Mason asked as I rubbed my arms, trying to warm them up. “Want my jacket?”

  “No, thanks,” I said, feeling my face start to flush. “Want to go for a walk around the lake and then head out? That might warm me up.”

  “Sure,” he said with a slight smile.

  It was about a one-mile loop around the lake. The massive redwoods dwarfed us and we tried to see if we could hear any owls or other birds of prey around us. The alcohol must’ve gotten the best of me, as I lost my balance and fell hands first into a particularly prickly blackberry bush.

  “Shit, are you okay?” Mason said as he gently lifted me up.

  “Ha,” I said, rubbing my hands on my jeans. “I’m fine, just super clumsy. My dad said I was the only shifter to ever be born with two left paws.”

  “That’s cute. Let me see your hands.”

  I held my hands out in front of me, trying not to die of embarrassment. “It doesn’t hurt at all, in fact, it’s already healing —”

  He took both of my hands and held them delicately in his, examining the rapidly healing wounds with his thumbs. His hands were rough and nearly twice the size of mine. “That looks like it hurts.”

  “I have a high pain threshold,” I said, trying to keep my hands from trembling too much.

  “I’m not surprised. May I?” he asked as he dropped my right hand and brought my left hand to his lips.

  “Yes,” I said, my voice catching in my throat.

  His lips gently caressed my knuckles before settling on the back of my hand. He paused and allowed his piercing aquamarine eyes, the same ones I was mesmerized by a few days ago, to search mine. He delicately kissed my hand, softly, slowly…

  My heart skipped a beat as his touch sent a dizzying rush of endorphins from my head to my toes, which eventually rested in the pit of my stomach. It was the closest I’d ever been to bliss, to nirvana…and it all was because of a single kiss from my mate.

  He released his lips from my skin — which felt like it was on fire, in the best way possible — and stood up straight. He examined my palms once again and smiled. “Looks good. It’s pretty much healed now.”

  My heart felt like it was stuck in my throat, so I just nodded. He extended his hand and offered it to me. I gladly accepted.

  ***

  We arrived at my estate 25 wonderful minutes later.

  “I had fun with you, Aubrey,” Mason said.

  “Me too,” I said, beaming widely.

  “We should do this more often. I don’t know why we didn’t do this sooner,” he said, letting go of my hand.

  “I don’t know, either. It sucks that it had to happen because of the contract.”

  “Right,” he said, looking downcast. “I forgot about t
hat.”

  I stared at my feet and resisted the urge to bite my fingernails. I wanted to tell him that I wanted to marry him, raise kids with him, and spend the rest of my life with him. I wanted to hear him say that he felt the same way, that he was my mate.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, bending down a bit to meet my gaze.

  “Definitely,” I said, a bit startled. “Just have a lot on my mind.”

  “I bet. It’s getting late, anyways. Would you like a hug?”

  Fuck, yes. I’d like more than a hug, to be honest. “That’d be great,” I said as I stepped toward him.

  He enveloped me in his loving, warm embrace, causing that electrifying feeling from earlier to intensify. The soothing smell of his sandalwood-scented cologne mixed with the clean scent of his clothing put me in a state of ecstasy.

  I felt myself pulling closer to him, and I felt the overwhelming desire to kiss him, to feel his lips against mine. I pulled away from him and looked up into his eyes, stood on my tiptoes, and started to guide my lips toward his…slowly, slowly…

  “So, I see you like my brother more than me, huh?”

  My entire body tensed up. It was the same voice that haunted my nightmares. No, it couldn’t be. No way.

  My head was swimming, and I felt my vision begin to go black at the edges.

  I looked up at a shell-shocked Mason, who was glaring at Gregory.

  “Mason, are you…?” I asked.

  “Aubrey, I —” He grabbed my waist as I started to lose my footing.

  “Is he…? Are you…?” My ears started ringing, and it sounded like I was underwater.

  “Stay with me, Aubrey, please.”

  I couldn’t fight him, and I couldn’t flee; I did the only thing I knew how to do to protect myself. I went deep within myself, to a place where Gregory and Mason never existed.

  The last thing I saw before I dissociated was Gregory’s face.

 

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