Micah's Mate

by Abigail Raines

  “I know you probably aren’t going to like hearing this,” I whisper. “But if where you come from has anything to do with why we can’t be together... it shouldn’t.”

  “Micah…”

  “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about that.”

  “I used to look up at the stars when I was a little girl,” she says. “We were so isolated where we were. The stars seemed like the only proof I had that there was something else out there. I used to wish I could go to the moon.”

  I have a stupid tear forming in my eye because I’m imagining rescuing her from whatever hell she was stuck in and taking her up to the moon. If that’s where she wanted to go, I would’ve found a way. “I’ll take you to the moon,” I whisper. “Let’s go right now.”

  She points at the blue moon as it slowly moves across the nursery walls. “There it is.”

  “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Seven: Luna

  I go home on a cloud. It’s not so much a cloud nine as a somewhat rainy cloud, but it’s still rather fluffy. I feel bittersweet about things, I guess is what I mean. If I didn’t know better, I’d say I could almost have happiness. But it’s incredibly difficult to just throw off all the fear and anxiety that was entrenched in me from birth. The idea that somebody like Micah Tremblay from a pack like The Tremblays could ever love me, absolute trash from the worst wolf pack in the world, is just a little bit hard to swallow.

  But that evening when Aaron and Michelle got home and found us asleep on each other’s shoulders on the floor of the nursery, we woke up to very knowing looks. I guess I should’ve made a show of not being into Micah in order to sell this. Although Michelle can always tell with me. The only thing I’ve been able to successfully lie about to her is the fact that I’m a shifter and that was to survive. But she can always tell when I like someone.

  I sleep soundly on my little rain cloud, but in the morning I have a terrible feeling. It follows me around as I shower and dress and get ready for the day.

  It’s instinct, I guess. I used to be able to anticipate bad things when I was growing up. I knew when Grayson and his friends were on the prowl for somebody to mess with. I knew when my dad was coming around to get a look at his pups and I always ran and hid because I was terrified of him. I knew when my mother was about to leave for a hunt or a fight, though never when she would be back. Good things I never saw coming. Sometimes I wished I didn’t know or feel things in advance and I wasn’t always right, anyway. Just often enough to make and assume the worst in pretty much everything.

  But this morning is different. This morning there is no insecurity, no doubt. No, I am absolutely sure that the worst is about to happen.

  When there’s a knock on the door, I know I’m right. I feel the exact opposite of how I felt when Micah knocked on Aaron’s door. I also know that if I don’t answer, it’s not going to fix anything.

  When I walk up to the door and open it, I feel a kind of dread like cold tentacles wrapping around my neck. The scent is familiar but I can’t place it. It’s a shifter.

  The face grinning at me is one I haven’t seen in at least ten years, and I’d hoped I’d never see again. I gasp and start to shut the door, but Dax is too quick and strong. He barges his way inside and shuts the door behind us, smirking down at me.

  “Hello, Luna.”

  Dax Ackley is tall and broad and he still smells like cheap cigarettes. He’s got a scraggly beard growing and his hair is touching his shoulders now, pinned down by a ballcap. He looks like a sort of a sexy trucker, like a guy from the wrong dive bar who you will definitely regret sleeping with. His faded jeans are riding too low on his hips as he looms over me. When he was sixteen, he was objectively handsome, if terrifying. Now he’s even better looking and much scarier.

  He looks me up and down and nods admiringly, “You look damn good.”

  I have no idea what to do. I’ve dreaded a moment like this since I left my pack. I dreaded it so much I tried to just never think about it, which means I’ve never figured out what I would actually do if it happened.

  “How did you find me?” I say, clenching my fists.

  Dax cackles at that. “Girl, we’ve had em’ sniffing you out since you left! Off and on, anyway. Took a while to narrow you down to Quinton.”

  I nod and try to hide that my hands are shaking. The last time I saw Dax, he was hooting and cheering as my father, the alpha, gave a speech about taking out every wolf shifter pack who was comfortably assimilating into human society. Like the Tremblays, for example. The pack I grew up with wasn’t just brutal to its own people in the name of making them the toughest wolves around, they also wanted to foist that brutality on everyone else.

  My father’s pack lives like wolves as much as possible, making their homes in shacks in the woods and only eating what they can kill. The vicious training put on the pups turns them into rapacious hunters and fighters. Unless they die first. I think I might have died before I was twelve and learned to hunt properly if my mother hadn’t snuck me food. My dad’s belief was that all shifters should live like that and never actually interact with humans, let alone taking jobs in their world and living among them. But simply choosing a different lifestyle wasn’t enough. He’d had big plans to kill any shifter who thought differently. And he did kill a lot of them. I saw him do it too.

  “Great.” I shrug, pretending to be casual. “You found me. It’s been real nice catching up. Bye now!” I attempt to shove him toward the door, but he just laughs, spinning away again as he takes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.

  I wonder if he’s surprised that I’m not cowering before him. I am scared. But I’m also not willing to show him that. Not him. Not Dax, one of the douchebags who always tormented me as a young pup.

  “Don’t smoke in here,” I say. Of course, he ignores me as he lights up.

  Well, this is great. My worst nightmare is coming true. Like I don’t have enough problems already with everything going on with Micah. I guess I’m not getting to work any time soon.

  “Look at this place!” Dax says, walking around the room and picking up random books and objects. “Very nice, very nice. Very human.”

  I sigh heavily. “I take it you’re carrying on my father’s insane legacy then?”

  “You got it.” He spins around and points at me and then he spreads his hands and grins. “Guess who’s the new alpha?”

  I narrow my eyes. Dax was always a vicious asshole, but in terms of power he was, at best, a talented toady. A henchman type. The idea of him being alpha is crazy to me. Yet, he does seem different, a little overpowering. Before, he usually waited to see what others would do before he chose to act. I guess he had just been biding his time.

  “How on earth did you make alpha? What happened to…” I choke on the word but finally manage to say, “What happened to my father?”

  “Wow, you really are out of the loop,” Dax said. “Guess that’s why it was so hard to find ya.” He takes a drag and smiles when he says, “Daddy’s dead, girl. You finally got what you wanted.”

  I don’t react immediately. I suppose it’s because I’m trying to figure out how I should react. Then I realize it’s taking me a second because...I don’t care. We weren’t exactly a close-knit family. My father had multiple mates and tons of pups. I wasn’t close to my siblings either. I suppose I was lucky in that I was the only child of my mother so when she decided to get out, she only had to worry about me. My mom was the only person I cared about from those old days.

  “Did you kill him?” I ask.

  “Grayson killed him,” Dax says. “He should’ve seen that coming. Goddamn fool. Of course his oldest son was going to take him out.”

  “So my half-brother murdered my dad?” I say flatly. “Yeah, that sounds about right for the Hardwidge pack.”

  “We actually moved from Hardwidge,” Dax says. “Got a nice compound up in the mountains in Oregon. It’s huge. Still use the name though.”

  I snort at that. “A
compound? What happened to living as wolves? Isn’t that the entire point?”

  “People aren’t ready for it,” Dax says. “Gotta de-assimilate em’ from humanity. That’s what I’m doin’. But the first priority is security. And we got a lot of enemies.”

  “Yeah, well maybe that’s because my dad kept raiding other packs and picking fights with everybody. If you guys have enemies, it’s his fault. So what, you killed Grayson then?”

  “Yep.” He grins broadly. “Wolf to wolf. Fair fight. Oh Luna, it was a goddamn blood bath. I chewed right through his throat. I can still taste it.” He exhales a plume of smoke. I was distracted by the news updates about the place that made my childhood hell, but now I’m starting to get scared again about why he’s here. I know he didn’t hunt me down just for us to play catch-up.

  “Lovely. Thanks for the update, but now I have to get to work so-”

  “Saw that Tremblay leaving the other night,” Dax says, deceptively casual.

  He’s been watching me. Who knows for how long. He must’ve been so happy when he saw Micah leaving my place.

  Shit.

  He’s staring down at his cruddy nails, inspecting the spiral of smoke coming from his cigarette. Now he raises his eyes. I didn’t take a really good look at him before. He has the same look I remember my father having; completely ruthless. “Smelled the sex all over him.” He ambles up to me, slow and predatory. He leans in and sniffs near my neck and I grimace, turning away. “I can still smell it on you, too.”

  “Your point?” It’s useless to deny that anything happened, but my stomach drops. If Micah ever got hurt because of me…

  “I walked right by him,” he says, chuckling. “He gave me that nod. That ‘hey we’re both shifters’ nod. Bet he’s never heard of our pack but I’ve sure as hell heard of his.”

  I think he’s wrong about that. He’s trying to play the downtrodden underdog, but my father made the Hardwidge pack famous, mainly by spilling so much blood throughout the West that nobody could ignore him. Not that Micah would’ve known who Dax was or who Hardwidge’s alpha is now.

  “The Tremblays are well respected,” I say, feeling the need to come to their defence. That’s wildly understating it. The Tremblays are the aristocrats of their clan. They’re also rich as hell and they run the Tremblay Company. Even east coast shifters know who the Tremblays are.

  “They sure are,” Dax says, smiling slyly. “And does Monsieur Micah Tremblay know where you come from, sweetheart?”

  I just glare at him. It’s a rhetorical question. He knows very well that I’m hiding from everyone.

  “I’m guessing nah,” he says. “I’m guessing nah because I can smell the sex on you, but I can’t smell the wolf. Ain’t that a trick?”

  “Of course he doesn’t.” I squeeze my fingers together. I’m not going to cry in front of Dax Ackley. If everything is going to come apart, I can at least keep my dignity.

  “Nope.” Dax pops the ‘p’ and spins on his heel, cackling as he takes a drag. My apartment is going to stink for days. “Hell, I can’t imagine what he would say if he knew about you.” He comes up behind me and whispers in my year, “How absolutely disgusted do you think he’d be? You know what trash the Tremblays think we are? And what are you if you’re not Hardwidge trash? Nobody at all. A lone wolf. A pariah. I don’t know what’s worse, girl.”

  I want to tell him to shut up. I want to tell him that he doesn’t know Micah. But the thing is, I think he’s right. I feel a tear trying to squeeze out of my eye and my throat aches as I swallow the lump that’s forming.

  When I can manage to speak again I say, “What is it you want, Dax?” My voice is thick.

  “God, what the hell do you think I want, sweet cheeks?” He rests his hands on my shoulders and I want to squirm away and knee him in the groin and tell him to fuck off. Even better, I’d like to shift and rip his throat out. But I figure I should find out what the hell this is. I’m also sure that if it came to a fight between our two wolves, Dax, who has probably killed plenty of shifters including at least one alpha, would wipe the floor with me. Not that I wouldn’t go down fighting. “I want you.” He goes as far as to slip an arm around my waist and his thumb sneaks under my shirt. That’s too much, and I finally twist away. He only laughs.

  “Me?” I say, a thrill of fear curdling my blood. “For what?”

  “For my mate,” Dax says, like it’s so obvious.

  I scoff at that. I can’t even process what he’s saying. “What?”

  “Say what you will about your dear old dad,” Dax says, flipping his cigarette between his fingers. “He was the most powerful alpha our pack ever saw and a hell of a warrior. The only reason Grayson took him down is because papa was stupid enough to trust his own son. But there’s power in that alpha blood. Your dad came by alpha naturally. Didn’t kill anybody for it. I want a piece of that. You’re the piece of it.”

  The thought of being Dax’s mate is so odious to me, I can’t even process it. I’m also sure he wouldn’t exactly make mated life pleasant for a woman. “If that’s true, what do you need me for?” I say. “My father had other daughters.”

  “All mated off,” Dax says huffily. “Or run off. Or dead. And you were always the best looking one.” He winks at me and I grimace in disgust. Dax is a good ten years older than me. The last time he saw me, I was barely sixteen.

  “Well, wow, it’s such a nice offer,” I say dryly, “to ask me to come be your mate at your shitcan compound with your weird cult pack that was a nightmare to grow up in, but I’m going to have to pass.”

  “Yeah, I figured you’d say that.” He takes a pair of aviators from his shirt collar and slips them on, taking another drag from his cigarette. “At first. Don’t worry, girl. I’m going to give you some time to think about it. Some time.”

  “I don’t need time,” I say through clenched teeth. “My answer is no.”

  “It’s your destiny, Luna. That’s why I know you’re going to agree eventually. I’d rather you volunteer though.” He’s so smug. He has no doubt that I’m going to end up returning with him to the pack I fought so hard to leave. “And don’t think I’ll ask so nicely the next time I come back here.”

  “What are you going to-”

  “Shh shh shh.” He makes a show of quieting me, sidling up to me and pressing two fingers to my mouth. “No worries, doll.” He smells his fingers and leers. “Why, that smells like Tremblay dick.”

  “Ugh. You’re gross.”

  “You’ll get used to it.” He grins and as he makes his exit he says, “Until next time, Luna” right before he slams the door behind him.

  I wait until I can’t hear his footsteps anymore before I let myself fall to the floor.

  I don’t try to stop myself from crying this time.

  Chapter Eight: Micah

  Most of the time I can handle work in my sleep. Or hungover, which is more often the case if I’m not one hundred percent. Today though, I am awake and not hungover and I cannot handle work at all, or at least not by my usual standards. At the office, I’m supposed to be thinking about how to sell condos, yet all I can think about is Luna’s face; how it looks when she’s pleased or quietly content or sardonic or turned on. I see her face everywhere, including in the design samples I’m supposed to be combing through in the cloud drive. I write up some copy that I don’t love. But I’m on a deadline and it’s the best I can do.

  After hearing about her horrible childhood, I feel even worse for calling Luna a coward before. I feel like there’s so much pain there and I get the feeling she doesn’t let anybody see it. I’m surprised she opened up to me as much as she did. The wolf in me is going nuts wanting to protect her, to prevent anyone from ever hurting her like that again, to make sure she never goes hungry again, to make sure she’s never scared.

  The last one is going to be a magic trick alright. Because I don’t know exactly why Luna’s running scared but I know she is that. She is scared. She is scared out of her mind.<
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  Worrying about it is driving me insane.

  After lunch, I have a presentation and I stumble and stutter through it, leaving everyone legitimately concerned because I’m usually Mr. Charismatic at presentations; charming everyone and cracking jokes while I deliver some genius ad campaign. A real Don Draper I am. I don’t even get a talking to about what a shit job I did because the boss is convinced I must have the flu or something.

  “Maybe take the rest of the day off,” he says.

  “I’m fine.” I shrug. “It’s just girl problems. Relationship shit. It’s nothing.”

  “Oh.” He waves a hand. “No wonder you’re distracted. Definitely take the day off then. Knowing you, that’s much worse than the flu. I insist. Really.”

  It bothers me that I think he might be right, but I’m not sure why.

  The problem with taking the day off is that I now have nothing to do but brood further on the subject of Luna. I’m tempted to grill Michelle for information, but Aaron wouldn’t like that. I’ll keep that idea in my back pocket, I guess.

  So instead I go to the place I go to when I need to vent or knock ideas around or just be immature and not get yelled at: Mason’s.

  My brother works from home. Although, when I say work, I mean he sits on his sleek, modern charcoal gray sofa, wears Lulu Lemon pants, drinks smoothies, and moves gigantic sums of money around the world from his laptop. I think he puts in about three or four hours of work in a day and he’s probably only a bit less rich than Xander, which is saying something.

  On the upside, that means he usually doesn’t mind when I stop by unannounced even if all I want to do is vent about something stupid. I tease my brother, but he’s always willing to listen to me when I have a problem, no matter how small.

  Mason lives in a remodeled wood sided house not far from the estate. It looks over the woods where we spent half our childhood as pups. I think he finds the view comforting.

  It’s drizzling when I pull into his driveway, the gloom having moved over Quinton suddenly. Fog is moving in on the forest and everything feels misty. I walk right into the place. Mason is the quietest of us. The “sensitive” brother, Xander calls him. But sometimes I think there’s an edge beneath that sensitivity. The guy has a house worth a couple million dollars but he doesn’t have an alarm system. My theory is that he’s kind of hoping somebody tries to bust in so he can shift and be forced into a fight. I’m sure he’d never admit it though.