by Lila Felix
Tonight of all nights, I had to hear that alarm.
He left when we were interrupted—before I could find out anything about him, other than his name. There were things I wanted to know about him—things I’d been dying to know for months. He hardly ever wore shoes, for instance. And his hair, I needed to know how soft or coarse it was. I didn’t even know how old he was or if he had a job.
And those were the little things. It may be jumping the gun, but we needed to discuss where we were going to live—with me, in my house, of course.
I wasn’t moving.
I’d paid for this house to be built, in cash, from my first big check. If he thought I was just going to leave it behind, he had another thing coming.
Ok, now I was being a big—not a nice woman.
But these were the things that mattered to me—things I’d worked toward for years and years.
Certainly he didn’t expect us to live in his cabin—right?
Oh God, I could see it. Me, trying to write while he watched movies too loudly or was just doing things that would normally interrupt my writing like—you know—talking.
My phone rang, making me jump out of my chair and scream. No one called me at night, except if there was a clan emergency.
I didn’t recognize the number.
“Hello?”
“Are you okay? You felt angry. You felt—tangled.”
Oh, Creator above, I’d forgotten about this part of the deal. I’d forgotten the connection that allowed us, mostly for our own good, to sense the feelings and spikes of emotions of our mates.
This couldn’t be good for a girl who cried, got angry, and sometimes downright mushy when she wrote. My feelings were constantly descending and ascending on spirals headed to the next chapter.
What is he going do—call me every time I get upset?
I’ll never get any writing done.
“I’m fine.”
“You lie.”
Well, there goes that theory.
“I’m a little frustrated that you had to leave so quickly and now I’m sitting down to work. That’s all.”
A firm, curt tone partnered with my words, but I couldn’t help it. Where was my instant, throw me over his shoulder, back me up against the wall, kiss me until I couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t my mate sparks?
“I’m sorry, Martha. I respected your work hours. I thought that would be the honorable thing to do. I’m sorry,” he repeated and then hung up.
I chunked the phone into the office trash can and sat down to the only thing I knew how to do when I was this aggravated and confused—I cried.
Not only was this the worst mating claim night ever—less than four hours into being a mated female and I’d already pushed my mate away and forced him to apologize for not living up to standards that no one should be held to—no one.
Turd bucket.
The rest of the night, not a single word was typed. If I wasn’t in the right frame of mind, any words I forced myself to click into the manuscript would be just that—forced and the reader would know.
Well, I would know.
Going to bed early was something new for me. Lying in my bed, I didn’t immediately go to sleep. Instead, I chastised myself over and over for the things I’d said and some I hadn’t.
I was more worried about Rev taking away everything I’d struggled for than what we could both gain through love—more preoccupied with what he would take away than what he would give me—his heart.
Some romance writer I was.
The next morning, I resolved to start out on a better foot. Echo had said he liked to eat—cooking I could handle.
“Good morning, Mate.” His gruff voice heated my skin, causing tingles to reach every cell, and he wasn’t even in my presence. Yes, this mating thing could work out, after all. That was, if I could keep my damned mouth shut and my ego in check.
“Good morning. Echo said you eat a lot and I’m a pretty good cook, and so I thought that since I was such a flaming wench last night that I would invite you over and see if you wanted to eat and talk, but if you don’t want to, it’s fine. I know you’re busy and…”
A giggle broke free from me for two reasons. One, because that was an incredibly long sentence—and two, because I’s surely sounded like an idiot. He jumbled words together when he was nervous and I strung fourteen perfectly good sentences together and made it sound like I was Run-on Ruthie.
My editor would’ve had a field day with that one.
“Martha,” he interrupted with a slight lilt of his voice. “I’m never too busy for you and I was already on my way.”
“Okay.”
We both let out a great exhale of relief.
He was already on his way over—maybe last night wasn’t such a bust after all.
Soon after he hung up, a scent of trees and earth permeated the kitchen, beginning at the door. I could feel him on the other side before he knocked.
Somehow, I had to resign within myself that this was my mate, a male born to see me—the real me, connect with me, and put my own needs and desires before his own. Somehow I had to remember that I was made to be his. Maybe I’d forgotten that—though I’d preached it to Echo over and over in the beginning of her coupling with Hawke.
So why couldn’t I remember it?
I steeled myself, with my hand on the door, ready to build up my defenses at a moment’s notice.
He stood with one fist resting on the doorframe—one wild chunk of raven hair hanging over his forehead, begging for me to put it back in its place. His attitude had changed from the night before.
His dark eyes dared me to do anything but submit to his presence.
Thumps drummed in my ears and demanded I heed their call. My heart, both of my hearts, the organ and the metaphysical one that I shared with my animal, beat only for him now—beat with his now.
Oh Creator, why did you send me someone who could absolutely ruin me like this?
My bear wanted to be ruined, right then and there on the doorstep to my home.
She wanted to be ruined badly.
Then Rev, this male I’d only dreamed about looking at was finally looking straight at me—and smiled. Not the tiny tug of motion from the night before—a full on smile coupled with joy, pride and want spiraling through him to me.
That’s when I realized for the first time that Hawke may be this clan’s Alpha—but Rev was my Alpha and there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it.
The human side of me wanted to—she backed away from his dominance and pushed against it. But my bear—that feral beast of a female that reigned over the supernatural part of me—she was in complete revelry. She wanted it—rolled around in it—craved it like food or water.
The red signal of passion emblazoned my cheeks and Rev took advantage of it, ghosting the backs of his fingers down my cheeks. I didn’t remember him being close enough to touch me. Yet, there he was.
I’m not gonna survive this in one piece.
My bear made a feeble attempt to console me as I somehow managed to babble something about him coming in.
“You must be a very emotional person. You’ve always got a million things going on. Maybe I’ve just been alone too long.”
I shrugged and tried desperately to regain some sense of composure. My bear was pulling out her best tricks—but that girl had her ulterior motive.
She wanted in his pants—or his fur—whatever.
She yearned for the connection because no matter how close two mates became, the bond between them couldn’t be solidified until they were together as animals.
My bear had no qualms about her job or finances—or whether or not this joker was going to leave the toilet seat up.
She didn’t care as long as she had him.
Forget humanity—I should be more like her.
It would be so easy to be like her—completely at ease and accepting of the love and acceptance to be gained by simply accepting my mate and accepting his role
in my life.
I cleared my throat, mostly because the animal was trying to claw her way out through my jugular. “I’m a writer. I kind of feel what my characters feel.”
It didn’t seem to bother him. “Okay. I will get used to it. So, something smells good.”
Yeah, buddy, it’s you.
“I made breakfast. It’s been a long time since I had breakfast in the morning.”
“You sleep all day?”
When people asked me that question, it made me feel like a lazy slob—like the proper thing to do was be a good girl and work eight to five like everyone else. It couldn’t be helped. I worked better in the night. It was my thing.
You stay up all night and I’ll chastise you for waking up at ten.
“I sleep late and then sometimes nap in the afternoon.”
Nothing signaled me to any negative emotion at my response—only acceptance.
I set about making plates and setting up the table while he watched on. All the questions, I’d lined up to ask him faded away and were replaced by—nothing. Well, that and the urge to jump up on my kitchen counter and invite him to take advantage of the lessened height difference.
I had to stop.
My bear was ready to maul him in the best possible sense of the word.
“You have questions.” He asked not meeting my eyes, which meant he knew about my saucy bear. He was just decent enough not to say anything about it—yet.
Come on Martha, you can do this—get the stats on this caveman.
“Yes. I don’t even know the most basic things about you other than your name.”
He laughed again—it was a wonderful laugh.
“My mother died shortly after giving birth to me. My Dad raised me on his own which is probably why I’m so—archaic.”
I thumped the plate down with a little too much force. Archaic wasn’t really the word I was hoping for.
“You can’t be that archaic. You know how to hack computers and whatever else you do.”
“My skill set isn’t—but me—I am.”
He pointed to his chest. Was he warning me? Maybe there was a club behind his back and any minute now he would clop me over the head and drag me to his backwoods cabin to become the subservient breeder.
Me Rev—You Martha—You make me steak and babies.
Oh Creator, I didn’t want to even acknowledge all the places of me that actually liked that thought.
This was one reason why shifters could never be feminists—we kind of liked being dominated by our males.
I couldn’t believe the thoughts that were rushing through my mind and my bear was not helping at all.
The traitor.
“You don’t think I can handle it?” I couldn’t believe the breathy turn my voice had taken when I asked him the question. I wished there was a way I could tranq my bear just for a minute so I didn’t sound like such a tramp. She was so tightly wound, if I shifted right now she’d be crawling the ceiling.
You’re a straight up hussy, Martha. Why don’t you just crook your finger and call him ‘big boy.’ Keep it classy, sister.
His eyes met mine straight on and he took a seat without being offered one, at the head of the table. “No, I think you can handle me just fine.”
Oh, dear.
Over breakfast, I learned so many things about my new mate. No, not new mate—just mate. For someone who claimed to be rustic, he had the most impeccable manners I’d ever seen a guy have. Never once did I hear his silverware clank on the plate. I thought maybe his table manners were better than mine, and he must’ve thanked me for the meal about a hundred times.
But not once did he make a move to hold my hand or make any other moves of the sort, and I was somewhat disappointed.
Someone should’ve warned me that the mate claim made people slightly—wonky.
I studied him while he picked up our plates from the table and placed them gently in the sink.
“I supposed we should discuss when we will complete the mating rituals. I need to speak to the Alpha and see if he has any prior engagements. There is a clan run tomorrow night.”
My hands gripped the edge of the table from nervousness. A clan run wasn’t just a clan run anymore. The Alpha commanded we run as a clan to instill a sense of pack and family among our members. But when you’ve found your mate, it meant so much more.
Like, say, that little thing where a newly mated female must be marked before she can run with the clan.
Forget the hand holding—I was expected to bite my mate, on a part of his body at my choosing—before tomorrow night.
One minute we were having waffles and the next I’m thinking about mating rights.
That progressed quickly.
He must’ve sensed my distress.
“We don’t have to. We can wait.”
“No, it’s fine.” I choked out.
“Lies, my love.” It didn’t escape my attention that it was the second time he’d called me love. But I had bigger fish to fry.
“How horrible would it be if I said it was a little quick?”
He hefted out an enormous breath, heavy with what I assumed was disappointment, but I found that the emotion bubbling in his chest to be understanding and approval. Maybe this was all a little quick for him too. Rev then approached me as one does a feral cub and tentatively took my hands in his, rubbing the backs of them with his thumbs. His hands were thick with callouses and the friction felt fitting against my smooth hands. Breath, hot as fire and sweet as honey, fanned my face as I tried desperately to will him through our bond to kiss me.
Kiss me Caveman.
“How about this? We will skip the run tomorrow night and spend the night here, getting to know each other better. Maybe that’s more our speed.”
Simultaneously, relief and disappointment flooded me.
“You wouldn’t mind waiting?”
“Would waiting make you feel better?”
I hated to admit it to him. “Yes. It’s not that I don’t want to, I just thought I’d have a little more than twenty four hours to decide.”
He let go of my hands and biting his bottom lip took my waist in his hands instead.
“If it makes you happy, then that’s the end of it. And just so we are clear—I want it more than you know.” He touched my chest again, right under my collar bone, the back of his hand barely skimming the skin there. I couldn’t stop the delicious shiver that broke free from my spine.
He wanted it—he wanted me to investigate his body and pick a spot where the mark of my teeth would forever claim him as mine and ward off any presumptuous females.
Yeah, I could do that.
Just not yet.
First, I had to find a way to get a good look at him.
After all, I didn’t want to make a mistake—choosing the wrong spot.
A girl has to explore her options.
“Wherever your mind just went—it’s driving him mad.” I didn’t have to ask who him was—he was referring to his bear, the root of all, well, most of our animalistic desires.
“Mad?” I knew what he meant, but asking him to explain it was too tempting.
“You have to know how badly he wants her—you. He wants it all. Maybe tomorrow night, after they’ve all returned—we can run together—alone.”
He earned his bacon with that one.
“That sounds good.”
“Yes, it does.” He glanced behind me at the clock and then back to my face. “I have a meeting with the Alpha this morning. Will you be at the class today?”
I scoffed, “I know all about us being bears. I don’t think I need a class.”
He stepped closer to me and weaseled his foot between both of mine. “Mmmm,” he groaned. It sounded dark and guttural. It was his bear that had made the sound and if I thought my bear was restless before, that groan called her out from where I’d quarantined her and broke her free. “What I think is that there are plenty of things I could teach you in and out of the class. You should c
ome. I’ll see you there. The Coeur will be there as well, if that helps.”
I couldn’t form whole words at that point. My face must’ve given away my cluelessness about why the Coeur would want to be at a cubs’ class. And no matter what I wasn’t going. I’d heard all the stories and read everything in between.
My blush gave away everything else.
“She wanted to start from the beginning and learn all about us—and she thought it would serve as a good example to the cubs.”
“I’ll be there,” I mumbled.
Wait, why would I be there again? What is happening?
“Yes, you will.” He smiled like he’d won.
He had won.
I missed the start of the game until I was already three moves behind.
After a quick, but heartened kiss to my forehead, he left the house. Still in a lofty daze, I did the dishes and had another cup of coffee, completely perplexed at my mate.
By the time I got out of the cloud, it was nearly time to get ready to go.
I still didn’t know why I was going.
Because you need him—any way you can get him.
Rev
The Alpha was pissed.
“I just got the damned land.”
“Alpha, with all due respect, it was taken from them. If given the opportunity, you must show the clan, you will do what’s right, even if it means giving something up.” The Alpha swiftly nicked Tarrow’s notions about giving him a lecture about what was wrong and what was right by slamming his fist on the desk. “I’m sorry, Alpha.”
Tarrow’s neck was bared in submission and he’s issues his apology before the Alpha could even blink.
He probably didn’t even know what he was sorry for. In my opinion, Tarrow was way too young and immature to have such a position as a Beta of such a large clan. In taking on the LaFourche’s lands, we’d tripled our clan numbers and land along with it. The Alpha had laid down laws ranging from large issues such as school attendance to miniscule issues. He’d told me in confidence that he shouldn’t have to micro-manage everyone, and he was right.
There were many other things that should have his attention.