The shifter reached in and pulled her out next, and she tensed. She glared defiantly up into his eyes. If he was going to kill her, that was fine with her. She’d shift and make him bleed first. She wasn’t a strong wolf when she shifted, but she had a few tricks up her sleeve that nobody knew about. She was saving them in case of emergency.
And she would rather die than be taken by her pack.
“What are you waiting for?” her grandmother screamed in her ear. “You know where to kick him!”
Before Miranda could so much as twitch a muscle, he shifted back into Creel and stood there naked, eyes blazing with rage. He was gorgeously chiseled, with a broad chest and mighty thighs. There was still tawny fur on his shoulders and face and the backs of his hands, and his ears were still sharply pointed.
The other shifters scrambled out of the car, cringing and bowing their heads.
“You said she wasn’t your mate!” Beauford wailed, hanging his head in submission. “She’s already been promised to one of us! She had her twenny-fifth birfday, and that’s pack law! Terrence’s cousin Joseph! He paid the bride price and everything!” He was hysterical, barely making sense. Still as dumb as ever, though.
“I just remembered that she’s right,” Creel growled. “I lied about never losing my memory. I black out all the time. I was pretty drunk last night, and I must have forgotten, but it’s all coming back to me now. I told her that I wanted to claim her, and she’s my life mate.”
“You don’t have to keep that promise,” Beauford said, a sly look in his eyes now. “You haven’t put your claiming mark on her, so you can still chuck her out on her fat ass. You don’t want to be hitched to this crazy bitch, believe me. She’s nothing but trouble. Talks to imaginary friends and everything.”
Creel cocked his head to the side, and Miranda could tell that Beauford wasn’t going to like what came next. Beauford cringed and let out a high-pitched whine. It was obvious that he could see he’d made a mistake.
“What did you just say about my life mate?” Creel asked, his voice gone low and dangerous.
He didn’t give Beauford the chance to answer. He lashed out with one mighty fist, so fast that his arm was a blur of motion and Beauford didn’t even have time to flinch. There was a sickening crunch and teeth flew everywhere. It would take Beauford at least a month or two to regrow those teeth.
“Her lip is bleeding. Did you hit my life mate?” Creel towered over Beauford and his eyes glowed an icy, terrifying blue.
“I didn’t know Miranda wath your life mate,” he whimpered, lisping from the missing teeth. “You thaid the wathn’t. You let uth take her. We’re leaving now and we won’t bother her again.”
“Hell no, you won’t,” Creel snapped, and he picked Beauford up and hurled him over the side of the embankment.
Like Clegg, he screamed all the way down and then there was a wet, awful-sounding thud. Both of them were going to be in a lot of pain for the next few days. They would heal, but their shifter healing didn’t make them immune to pain.
Terrence ran back to the car and leaped into the driver’s seat. Creel and Miranda walked off in silence as the car screeched away in a cloud of dust, leaving the two injured wolves to their own devices. Miranda imagined they would slowly, painfully climb back up the hillside and stagger into town, where they were guaranteed to stay out of her way for at least the next few days while they healed.
Good. Her head and body were pulsing with pain from the blows they’d rained down on her.
When they reached Creel’s cabin, Miranda glanced at him and saw that his ears were pointy and his jaw was elongated. A thick pelt of tawny fur covered his body.
“Going for a run,” he growled, and sank down onto all fours, melting into wolf form. He was covered with thick, shaggy fur now, and he tucked his head low and dashed off, disappearing into the treeline.
She looked in the freezer and found some bags of frozen peas. She took one out and pressed it against the sore spots on her head.
She walked into the living room area with the bag of peas pressed to her head, and sat there on the couch and waited for Creel to come back. And waited. And waited. Finally she got hungry and cooked herself some breakfast, although now it was more like lunchtime.
After she ate, she wandered around the house, trying to walk the fine line between being curious and being too nosy. There were a couple of oil paintings of nature scenes, and a deer head mounted on a wall. The fireplace had a stone ledge, empty of knick-knacks. She didn’t see any family pictures anywhere.
It was a one-bedroom,with an open area divided up into a large living room with a stone fireplace, a small kitchen, and a dining area.
It was afternoon now. Was he ever coming back?
Miranda finally started cleaning the kitchen, putting all the empty bottles in a garbage bag and washing some dishes. Then she made a beef stew and set it to boil.
“This place is kinda small,” her grandmother said from right behind her.
Miranda jumped and let out a squeak. “Stop sneaking up on me,” she said.
Grammy Edith ignored her, as usual. “Of course, I don’t know if he’s good enough for you. After all, he is crazy,” her grandmother mused. She was still translucent. It would take her a few days to regain her strength; doing anything on the physical plane took enormous effort for her.
“Hello,” Miranda said. “Like you’re one to talk.”
“What do you mean?” her grandmother asked.
“Well, you’re a hallucination calling a wolf shifter crazy.”
“I am not a hallucination, I am a ghost,” her grandmother said indignantly. “Big difference.”
“Either that, or I’m the one who’s crazy,” Miranda said. She’d first started talking to ghosts when she was ten years old. Mostly Grammy Edith, who’d showed up one day when the other cubs were taunting her, and scared them off with ghostly moaning. As time went on, Miranda discovered that if Grammy Edith introduced her to other ghosts, she could see and talk to them too.
Her grandmother scoffed. “Well of course you’re crazy, you’re a Weaving. I’m still as real as I’ve ever been.”
“I sure hope that’s true,” Miranda said. Her grandmother was the only close family she had.
“So he claimed you.” Her grandmother looked around. “House is solid, but it’s not that big. You never told me why you came here this morning. What were you thinking?”
“That’s personal. But anyway, listen, when he comes back, since he talked about claiming, you should probably leave in case there’s some, uh…”
“Mating?” her grandmother said, looking amused.
Miranda blushed.
“You should make him wait for it,” her grandmother advised. “In my day, no self-respecting she-wolf would agree to be claimed by a life mate before he brought her back wild game at least three times. And I mean large game, by the way. No rabbit or squirrel. It’s a stag, or there’s no nookie. Yep, that’s how we did things in my time. Made ’em work for it.”
“In your day, you passed notes in school by chiseling them on a rock,” Miranda muttered.
“What did you say, missy?” Her grandmother huffed and slapped her on the side of the head with a ghostly hand. Her hand passed through Miranda’s head, and Miranda let out a shriek of pain. Her grandmother went pale.
“Oh my God, I forgot that those douchebags punched you,” she said. “Are you all right?”
Miranda looked up and broke into a grin. “I didn’t feel anything,” she said. “But if you could take physical form, I’d be really scared.”
Her grandmother glared at her with narrowed eyes, hands on her ample hips. “I will get you for that,” she threatened. “I may not be able to touch you, but I will find a way. Vengeance shall be mine.”
Miranda glanced at the door. She could hear Creel headed her way.
“Grandmother, really, you’ve got to go,” Miranda said. “Go over to Southside Cemetery and flirt with some of the dead g
uys. They love your potty mouth.”
She wasn’t worried about her grandmother being able to find her again. Since Miranda had first seen her, Grammy Edith had always been able to home in on her wherever she was.
“Fine, I can take a hint. But you really should make him wait. Get to know him a little bit before you make a life-mate commitment,” her grandmother said.
“Oh, I know him,” Miranda said quietly. “He just doesn’t know me.”
Her grandmother gave her a puzzled look, then faded out and disappeared. And Creel walked in through the door. He was stark naked, and as perfect as a statue. Every muscle looked as if it had been carved by an artist. Michelangelo would have wept at the sight of him. The scar on the left side of his face, and the scars on his chest, did nothing to mar his beauty.
“I heard you talking to someone,” he said, looking around.
Damn enhanced shifter hearing. Miranda didn’t have it because she wasn’t full shifter.
“I like to talk to myself,” she said. “But if it bothers you, then I won’t do it anymore.” She’d go outside to talk to her grandmother. It wasn’t like she’d actually stop talking to Grammy Edith. Not for anyone. Not even Creel.
“Suit yourself,” Creel said, heading over to the stove and sniffing. “Dinner smells good.”
Miranda felt a swelling of nervousness ripple through her. Creel just tended to have that effect on her. Always had, although he’d never known it. “I’m a great cook,” she said. “I can make anything you like.”
Creel glanced at her oddly, then ladled the beef stew she had made into a bowl. He grabbed a spoon and sat down at the table.
“So, yeah, my name is Miranda,” she added. “I don’t know if you remembered my name, from this morning.”
He didn’t answer her.
She sat down on the couch and watched him eat. He shoveled down most of the food, then glanced over, seeing that she was still staring at him.
“What?” he grunted.
“So when, um, do you think, um, that we’ll do the claiming?” Her voice came out in a nervous squeak.
Well, that was super sexy, Miranda.
He stared at her as if she were crazy. Well, crazier.
“What claiming?”
She was sure that her face was fiery red with embarrassment.
“You know, you told them that you’d claimed me as a life mate. So that would involve...you know. And you leaving your mark on me, and me leaving my mark on you. Where everyone can see it.”
“Yes, Miranda, I know how claiming works,” he said. “But I just said that so they’d stop hitting you and leave.”
“Oh, sure, of course,” she said. She felt hot tears of humiliation burn in her eyes, and waited for him to laugh at her, at the very notion that he would even think of claiming her. “Obviously you’re not interested in me,” she muttered.
He stared at her. “I didn’t say I wasn’t interested in you,” he said. “If you’re talking about sex, that is. Even if you’re crazy and talk to yourself, you’re still hot.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I’m just curious, did you think that was a compliment?”
Creel snorted. “That’s just further proof of why I’m doing you the biggest favor in the world by not claiming you. I don’t do relationships. I don’t spend time with people. You could do much better. And frankly, it’s probably only a matter of time until someone has to put me down.”
The thought made her heart ache. She could feel the angry energy crackling off him, and the fact that he lived out here by himself, with no mate and no Omega, showed that he wasn’t even trying to contain his animal. Why was he living like this? What had happened with his pack? And, years ago, she’d heard rumors that he’d been engaged. What had happened with that?
“Oh,” she said quietly. “But I’ll be staying here with you for now, right?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head decisively. “Sorry, can’t help you there. I’m a loner. I live alone. That’s what loners do.”
She stood up and walked to the door, her head throbbing and her heart aching in her chest.
“I get the message,” she said stiffly.
“Well, you don’t have to leave now. It’s going to be dark soon,” he said. “You can sleep on the couch tonight and I’ll give you a ride to wherever you live tomorrow.”
“Nope, I’m good.”
“Hey, why did you pick me to say you were mated to?” he called out as she walked down the front steps. “And how did you know about the birthmark?”
She kept walking.
* * * * *
Creel watched her go. He could tell that he’d hurt her feelings, and it set an ache in his gut, which was unusual. Normally he didn’t care one way or the other how people reacted to him.
Of course it was for the best that he discouraged her from hanging around here. It wasn’t like she really cared about him anyway – she’d just been looking for someone to protect her. She should leave the territory, he thought. He wouldn’t want to see her get hurt, and if she didn’t belong to a pack, then she’d be vulnerable.
The sun was dipping low on the horizon and the mountain air was starting to chill. Off in the distance, he heard a howl.
The farther away she walked, the worse the ache inside him got.
Well, he should at least make sure that she got back safely to…wherever she was going. After that, she was on her own.
As he watched, she stopped and stripped off her clothing, and he felt a deep ache in his heart, a yearning to be with her. She shifted into wolf form, picked up her clothing in her mouth, and ran. Her wolf was small, with silky white fur, and he itched to run his fingers through it.
He quickly stripped off his own clothes, shifted into wolf form, and followed her. They headed north up Rural Route 10 and came to the main road that snaked through the entire territory, Rural Route 72. He saw her walk into a small building with a hand-painted sign out front that said “Miranda’s Candles”. They’d gone about a mile and a half from his cabin.
The candle store was a white clapboard structure. It was already weathered by the elements, but Miranda had planted cheerful flowers on either side of the door. They were struggling gamely in the poor soil. The sign added another splash of color. Through the window he caught a glimpse of shelves full of candles – skinny white tapers, fat yellow pillars, and ceramic pots full of wax in greens, blues, purples and pinks. He resisted the temptation to get closer and peer inside. The last thing he needed was for Miranda to catch him mooning after her like some kind of lovesick weirdo.
Not that he was doing that. At all. He was an Alpha Prime – he had every right to check up on what was going on in his territory.
He hadn’t been by this way in a few months. The last time he’d been here, the building had been occupied by a bully of a bear shifter named Harold, who had made the mistake of punching his mate in front of Creel. Harold had died approximately sixty seconds later, and the female had taken her cubs and headed over to the Stoney Creek clan in the northern part of the territory, leaving the building empty.
If that was where Miranda headed in the evening, there was a good chance that she both lived and worked there.
They were in the center of the southern territory. It wasn’t anywhere near as well developed as the western territory, which had a thriving town center now, or the eastern territory, where there was a logging industry, a building industry, and workers’ homes.
Houses in the southern territory were scattered haphazardly. Miranda’s little shop was located about a quarter-mile down the road from what served as the gathering place for the territory. There was a bar called the Rotgut there, and a motley collection of buildings. One of them served as a barbershop, and one of them was a grocery store.
Creel suddenly had the feeling that it was a bad idea for him to know where she lived. The pull to come back and see her again – smell her, touch her – would be painfully strong.
Creel, who was not afraid of any
thing – not death, not injury, not pain – turned around and ran as fast as his legs would take him.
Chapter Three
Miranda’s home and shop were located near the border of the southern territory, in a small clearing by the main road. Rural Route 72 went due north into the western territory, then headed east through the eastern territory.
She’d originally hoped that the convenient location would help steer business to her door. So far, it hadn’t worked out that way.
She had converted the shop’s kitchen into her candle-making area. She mostly made the candles at night, so the odor of hot wax wouldn’t waft into her shop during the day. She hadn’t made any new candles in weeks, though, since she had no business coming through her door.
The building had been a two-bedroom white clapboard structure. She loved the homey look and feel of it. She slept in the bedroom in the back, and she’d converted the front into the shop area, knocking out the living room wall to open it up and putting up shelves and glass display cases for her wares. She’d invested all her meager savings in the shop. If things didn’t turn around soon, though, she was going to have to make some hard decisions.
“Your face looks like you got kicked by a horse,” Grammy Edith told her the morning after she had tried to pretend Creel was her mate.
Miranda snorted. “And you look like someone needs to adjust your TV antenna.” Her grandmother was still see-through and ripply.
Grammy Edith patted her white hair, forever set in a permanent wave, then smoothed out the lime-green polyester A-line shift she’d been wearing on the day she’d been murdered. Only people who’d died by violence lingered on as ghosts. They went on to their eternal reward eventually, but they lingered on Earth for decades first, seen only by those who were sensitive to their ethereal vibrations.
His Curvy Mate (Alpha Prime Book 2) Page 2