Happily Ever Alpha: BBW Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance

by Catherine Vale

  He arched a brow. “You needn’t sound so surprised. I’m not completely insensitive. Although, considering the way I’ve been acting lately, I suppose I deserve it. I know that I’m asking you to give up your entire life for me, and that I haven’t really given you much incentive to do so.” He paused. “If it were possible for me to leave my village to come and live with you, I would. But even if I weren’t concerned about my responsibility to the pack, the fact is that it would be too dangerous. If anyone ever found out that I was a shifter…”

  Arya nodded. “We would both be executed.”

  “I’ve heard that burning is in season right now,” Kellan remarked, making Arya shudder. “It still doesn’t excuse my behavior. If I want you to stay with me, I need to give you a reason to do so. And so here we are.”

  They turned a corner, and Arya realized that he’d led her past his cabin and into the village square. The small, open space was filled with women chattering, but they all stopped and turned as one to look at her.

  Leah rushed forward from the group, her hands outstretched, a welcome smile on her face. “Oh, Arya, it’s good to see you!” She gave Arya a gentle hug, and then beamed at her brother. “I was worried you were wrong and that she wasn’t going to come today, but I should know better than to doubt your instincts.”

  “What is this all about?” Arya asked, taking a wary step back as she looked over at the group of women. At least they were eyeing her with speculation and curiosity rather than outright resentment or hostility… but Arya didn’t like to be stared at regardless of the reason.

  “Kellan and I thought the easiest way for you to become comfortable with the villagers is to get to know them.” Leah took Arya’s hand and pulled her forward. “They’ve promised to give you a chance,” she murmured, “because they love Kellan and want him to be happy. So be sociable. I’m sure you learned how back in the London tearooms.”

  The reminder dissipated some of the fear tunneling through Arya’s chest—Leah was right. She might be in the wilderness instead of a drawing room, and these women might be wearing muslin instead of silk, but the basic idea was the same. Drawing in a breath, she pasted a polite smile onto her face and allowed Leah to begin the introductions.

  The introductions were made, the names of women young and old whirling through Arya’s brain too fast for her to be able to get ahold of. There were several wooden tables set out, heaping with food, and they all seated themselves, rotating places so that each of the women would be able to talk to her individually.

  Soon Arya no longer had to keep a firm expression plastered on her face—though these women were here to judge her, most of them were kind despite their fear of humans. Arya relaxed as she answered their questions about who she was, where she came from, what she thought of Kellan… and on it went. She was glad that someone had the foresight to bring along pitchers of sweet cider—she would have lost her voice if she hadn’t been able to wet her throat.

  Eventually she started turning the tables a bit, asking questions of the women, and trying to find out more about them. She learned that for the most part they led simple lives, which was partly because they were forced into isolation for their own protection. They were allowed to hunt with the pack, for they were shifters as well and couldn’t resist the call any more than the men, but otherwise they did not venture out of the village. To amuse themselves they indulged in arts and crafts—pottery, sculpting, painting—as well as music and dancing, often holding little competitions or festivals.

  Mira, one of the younger women around Arya’s age, made beautiful jewelry from colored stones she had her husband bring back to her during his forest treks. She gave one of her pieces to Arya—a leather necklace with a dark purple pendant in the shape of a heart. Another woman, an older one, pressed a small clay pot with black and white designs painted on it into her hands. Several of the women decided to show off their musical talent, three joining their voices in song while two accompanied them with a harp and flute. Arya didn’t recognize the music they made, but it was uplifting, folksy, and made her feet itch to dance.

  She wasn’t the only one who felt that way because many of the women left their seats to do so, joining hands with their friends and family as they danced. Arya noticed some of the men, who had been conspicuously absent, had started to appear, warily at first as they tossed glances toward Arya, but evidently they decided that if their women weren’t going to be bothered by her, they wouldn’t either, and joined in.

  Kellan stepped in front of her and pulled her to her feet with a grin. “You can’t be sitting here moping around while everyone is dancing,” he told her as he led her into a lively step.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Arya told him with a smile. The dance was unfamiliar, but it didn’t take her very long to pick up on it. Soon she was jumping and whirling with the best of them, roses in her cheeks as her eyes sparkled with laughter.

  She took Kellan’s hands in hers as the song changed to one not quite as fast. “I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun!” she confessed. “The women of your village are not nearly as frightening as I thought.”

  Kellan arched a brow. “Is that so?”

  Arya smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You and Leah have taught me that just because we are different, doesn’t mean we are nothing alike.” Her face softened. “I’m sorry it took me such a long time to see that.”

  Kellan grinned, then leaned in and gave her a long, deep kiss that left her breathless.

  * * *

  A few days later, Arya was bustling around the cottage getting some last minute things done when there was an urgent knock at the door. Her heart jumping in her chest, she rushed to the door and opened it to see Byron, Lucas’s brother, standing in the doorway, cradling her aunt in his burly arms.

  “Oh, God,” Arya whispered, stepping back to let them in. Her aunt’s eyes were closed, her face ashen, and it looked as though she was barely breathing. “What happened to her?”

  Lucas followed in behind him, his brows drawn together with concern. “We don’t know. She seemed fine one moment, and the next she just collapsed. The doctor is about an hour away, and we thought it might be a good idea for her to be home, in her own surroundings, while we wait for him.”

  “Of course.” Arya found that she was wringing her hands, and forced herself to stop—she needed to be strong. “Let’s get her settled.”

  She led them down the hall to her aunt’s room, where she was placed on the full sized bed. Arya touched her hand, which was icy, and then pulled back the flowery bedspread and covered her with it. “We need to find more blankets for her,” she told the men. “She’s far too cold.”

  They heaped her with blankets from the linen closet, and Arya found a bed warmer hanging near the hearth to use. They hadn’t made use of the fireplace yet, as she’d arrived at the tail end of summer, and Arya had never learned how to light one, so she asked the men for help. Lucas went out bring in a load of wood, and between the two of them they soon had a decent fire going. It took awhile, but they were able to scrape enough embers from the heart to fill the warming pan, and they slipped it between her aunt’s blankets.

  Her aunt began shaking almost immediately, her teeth chattering with cold. Alarmed, Arya took her hand and held it close to her body, murmuring words of comfort. “It’s alright, auntie. I’m here.”

  Eventually the shakes died down, and her aunt slipped into a peaceful sleep. Arya refused to leave her side, and the men stayed with her, watching over her solemnly. It felt as though they were sitting by someone’s deathbed, and Arya had to fight back the tears—she refused to believe that her aunt was dying.

  But when the doctor arrived and did his examination, he told them the prognosis wasn’t good. “If she’d come to me even a week earlier, there might’ve been something I could do for her,” he told them. “But as it stands now, she’s fading fast. The best thing to do for her right now is to make her comfortable.”

&n
bsp; Arya wanted to scream, to rage against the doctor and tell him it wasn’t true; that he was lying, that her aunt would get better. But she knew he was just trying to do his job, and so she choked down the words and thanked him. He gave her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, gave her a list of instructions, and told her he would come to check on her daily.

  Byron told her he needed to get back to the farm, and bade her farewell as well. But Lucas stayed behind, and they simply sat by her aunt’s bedside for a long while, watching her sleep.

  “Arya,” Lucas said eventually, “I think it might be good for you to get some air.”

  Arya shook her head. “I can’t leave her,” she said in a voice choked with tears. “After everything she’s done for me, I can’t leave her side.”

  Lucas came over and gently put his hands on Arya’s shoulders. “You’re breaking down,” he told her, “and you won’t be of any use to her that way. We don’t need to go far, but I think that if you just came outside and cleared your head, you’d feel a bit better.”

  Arya started to dig her heels into the ground as Lucas pulled her from the chair, but in the end, she relented—she didn’t have the will to fight him. She allowed him to put an arm around her and lead her out to the front porch. The crisp fall air, sweetened with sunshine and grass, came to tease her nose, but rather than lifting her spirits it only sank them further. How could it be that it was such a beautiful day outside, while her aunt lay within, dying?

  “It’s all my fault,” she said brokenly, allowing her legs to fold beneath her so that she landed on the bench with a thump.

  “Arya, you couldn’t have known—” Lucas began.

  “But I did!” she shouted, whirling to face him with sparking eyes and hot bursts of color in her cheeks. “I’ve noticed these past few weeks that she’s been paler and less energetic. She’s been taking a lot of naps and not looking like herself, but I’ve been so preoccupied with… with…” Arya bit off the words before she confessed the truth to Lucas; much as she wanted to get it off her chest she couldn’t betray the shifter clan like that. “I’ve been so blind and selfish. I should have made her go see the doctor when she refused. I should have put my foot down and told her not to spend so much time running herself ragged. The stress took too much of a toll on her.”

  Lucas wrapped his arms around Arya and pulled her close. She hit his chest, fighting, but he simple tightened his hold and stroked her hair. “Arya,” he whispered as she dissolved into violent, heart-wrenching tears. “It’s alright. Let it all out.”

  She cried for a long time, fisting her hands in his shirt as she soaked it with tears. If he noticed, or was uncomfortable about it, he didn’t say so; he just rubbed her back soothingly and rocked her. Eventually her eyes went dry and she was left with a raw emptiness she wasn’t certain was much better. But, she did feel a bit lighter, a bit steadier.

  Pulling back, she mopped her face with her hand. “I’m sorry,” she told him. “I’ve put you in an awkward position, and treated you terribly.” The smile she gave him was watery. “I seem to have a knack for that.”

  “I’ve never yet ended up in a place that I haven’t been put there by myself,” Lucas said, brushing away stray tears from the corners of her eyes with his thumbs. “And as for right now, I’m exactly where I want to be.”

  He leaned down and laid his lips against hers, and Arya froze. But it was a soft, sweet, gentle kiss, made for comfort rather than passion, and she was so desperate for comfort that she leaned in without thinking about it. He smelled of hay and sunshine and stale sweat from when he’d been working in the fields, and his embrace was warm and comforting—like Kellan.

  Kellan. The name was like a cold splash of water dumped onto her head, and she reared back in shock. Oh, God. How could she be sitting here, kissing Lucas, when Kellan had just kissed her the day before? Was she really that kind of woman who juggled two men?

  “Arya?” Lucas asked, his brow wrinkled in confusion. “What—”

  He reached for her and she scrambled back hastily. Hurt flashed in his blue eyes and guilt slapped her across the face. “I—I’m sorry,” she said shakily, smoothing her skirts down. “I just can’t do this.”

  “Arya, it’s alright. You don’t have to—”

  She shook her head. “Please. I just need to be alone right now.” Trembling, she pressed her fingers to her lips. “I’m sorry.”

  She ran into the house.

  Chapter Nine

  Arya spent the night by her aunt’s bedside, listening to the wolf howls outside the bedroom window. She knew that between the mating call and her aunt’s condition there would be no sleeping tonight. A headache throbbed directly behind her forehead, and neither the tea she sipped nor the palms pressed against her temples helped very much.

  Why had she reacted so strongly against Lucas? Now that she was removed from the situation, she didn’t quite understand it. Certainly, she’d spent a lot of time with Kellan and had kissed and touched him, but she hadn’t made a clear decision in her heart between either of them. Why shouldn’t she be allowed to kiss Lucas as well? How was she supposed to make a decision between the two if she wasn’t even willing to give Lucas a chance?

  Was it the mating bond that pulled her away from him? Or had her heart already decided? She wasn’t certain, but she did know the guilt had been overwhelming. It didn’t seem fair to Lucas, since she was spending so much time with him, to treat him this way. And yet she hadn’t been able to help it.

  She agonized over a flurry of thoughts until the sun rose, and then went out with a heavy heart to do the morning chores. Trenching herself in the familiarity of routine, she made breakfast for two, but picked listlessly at it, as she wasn’t very hungry, and knew her aunt really wasn’t going to be in any shape to eat. In the end, she tossed the eggs into the pigpen, and the bacon into the chicken coop, too tired to really appreciate the irony.

  The doctor came by to check on her aunt, who hadn’t moved from her sleep. He said that she appeared to be stable, but couldn’t give an estimate as to how long she had or when she would wake up, if ever. The Bennets stopped in to visit her, as did the Rivers, though Lucas was conspicuously absent. When she asked Amelia about him, she’d simply gotten a shake of the head and been told that he seemed to be in deep thought, and told them to go without him. Amelia then asked if she could have a private word with Arya, who reluctantly relented, knowing that with so many people crowded around her aunt’s bed, there was really no excuse to stay by her side.

  “If it were any other woman,” Amelia began as they walked through the tall grass, “I wouldn’t have thought much of Lucas’s behavior this morning. But I’ve never known Lucas to pass up an opportunity to spend time with you, and I’m concerned. I know that he was here yesterday when he and Byron brought your aunt home. Did something happen?”

  “I—” Arya shook her head, the words caught in her throat. She didn’t really want to tell Amelia about what had happened yesterday, but didn’t really see any way to avoid it. “He kissed me.”

  There was a long silence. “I see.”

  Arya sighed. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

  “What went wrong?”

  “I just… I don’t know. One moment I was kissing him back, and the next I was pushing him away.” The guilt settled onto her chest again, but instead of feeling guilty for kissing Lucas, she was now feeling guilty for the way she’d treated him. “I… I have feelings for someone else.”

  Amelia’s eyebrows shot up. “Someone else? Who on earth could you have met? All the men around here know that Lucas has his sights set on you, and wouldn’t dare interfere.”

  “It’s complicated, and he isn’t anyone you know. He doesn’t live in this town, and I don’t see him very often.” Arya grabbed Amelia’s hand. “I haven’t been trying to play your brother along, Amelia. I really do care about him a lot, and I’ve been thinking about our relationship. A part of me wants to take the next step with him. But anoth
er part of me is drawn to this other man, and I can’t seem to do anything about it.” Arya buried her face in her hands. “I don’t know what to do with myself.”

  Amelia sighed, placing her arm around Arya’s shoulder. “As Lucas’s sister, I obviously want what’s best for him, but I know how difficult it can be in your position.” Arya looked up to see Amelia gazing at her sympathetically. “I will say that you have to make up your mind soon. It’s dangerous to leave two men dangling like that. Someone is bound to get hurt.”

  “I know.” Arya bit her lip. “Could you… could you please not mention this to Lucas? I promise I will tell him, and that I won’t make him wait. But I need to focus on my aunt right now.”

  Amelia nodded. “I can do that. Just… be careful. I don’t want my brother to be hurt.”

  Arya gave her a small smile. “I don’t want that either.”

  * * *

  Arya was sitting in the wooden chair by her aunt’s bedside when she heard a knock at the door. Her head jerked up sharply and she rose, her heart rate tripling. Who on earth could be calling at this hour? Should she even answer the door? What if it was a bandit, or a robber, come to steal their valuables?

  Don’t be daft, a voice in her head chided. There are no bandits around here. It could be someone in trouble.

  Even so, she grabbed a poker and inched toward the door, trying not to tremble. Her hand slowly curled around the knob, and, steeling herself, she pulled it open to see who it was.

  “Kellan!” she exclaimed as he swept her up into his arms. His strong arms cradled her tenderly as he stepped inside and kicked the door closed behind him, and she couldn’t help but inhale his scent greedily.

  “I missed you,” he growled into her ear. “The last night was hell for me, and when you didn’t show up today I decided I couldn’t wait.” He held her for a long moment, burying his nose in her hair, and the relief washing over Arya made her giddy.

  Eventually, he set her down, but kept his arms wrapped around her. “What’s happened?” he asked, looking around in the dark. “I could feel your distress, but you seem to be okay.”