Alliance: an Alpha Shifter Romance (Mated in Hell Trilogy Book 1)

by K. de Long

  “It’s a ways away from done,” she said. “I didn’t expect you to be up just yet.”

  “I smelled it and came running,” he said, a laugh in his voice. “What is it?”

  “Migas.”

  Marrock stood, stepping closer to her. Her heart raced as she watched him. He was standing entirely too close, his skin all but touching hers. Was he—?

  He reached past her for a cup, and she attempted to slow her racing heartbeat down. He just wanted something to drink. He wasn’t leaning over her because he was going to reach down, hold her head in place while he—

  No. She had to keep stirring the eggs, and lay down the groundwork for them to live together without tearing strips from each other’s flesh. That was more important than losing herself in his dark amber eyes, his heady musk, the heat radiating from his skin, sinking into hers from how closely they stood together…

  Tessa swallowed and folded the eggs in the pan one more time. Marrock glanced into the pan, and it took her a moment to realize that he was trying not to get his hopes up that some of that was for him. They hadn’t done such niceties as preparing enough food for each other in their cautious circling.

  “Can you get a few plates?” she asked, to take the stress off him.

  His eyes crinkled with relief, and he reached up into the cabinet again. “Of course.”

  He reached above her, his bicep extended just above her shoulder, close enough that if he wanted to, he could bring it down around her shoulders, draw her closer yet. Giddiness tore through her at the very thought. Her stomach was a mess of butterflies, this close to him, and all of it was completely irrelevant. This was a peace offering, nothing more.

  She twisted her shoulders toward the pan. Maybe it would be easier if she wasn’t facing him. He set the plates down on the counter, as she pretended to be absorbed in the slowly cooking eggs. A strand of her hair fell over her shoulder, toward the pan, only to be caught by calloused fingers. Marrock tucked her hair back behind her ear with a gentle gesture. His fingertip lingered against the shell of her ear, and she couldn’t restrain a silent gasp at the contact.

  “Almost done,” she said cheerily, trying to keep him distracted from the effect he had on her.

  Her whole body went rigid as his pushed against her, from shoulders to knees. What was he thinking? One of his hands rested lightly on her hip, and after a second, his intentions became clear. He was reaching around her to open the silverware drawer for forks. The hand was merely him letting her know where he was, so she wouldn’t twist into him and possibly rebound into the hot pan.

  And to think that for a second there, she’d thought he was intentionally pressing himself against her, sealing her to him, holding her in place for when he—

  Fucking hell, why couldn’t she keep her mind where it belonged?

  He set the silverware on the plates, then retreated, leaving her skin so much colder for the loss of his warmth.

  “Do you usually cook in just…that…?” he asked.

  Her whole face went hot. “My robe’s in the sink. I got oil on it and don’t want the stain to set. I would have run back to my room for something else, but I didn’t want the food to burn.”

  “In which case, then…” He reached for the hem of his shirt. Her mouth went dry as the fabric peeled upwards, revealing a host of scarred, tanned skin, and a delightful sprinkling of hair below his belly button leading her eyes lower, reminding her of all his marks…

  A warrior. Fearsome. Strong.

  Her inner wolf roared, but she bit the inside of her cheek hoping the sharp pain would dull her arousal.

  He offered her the garment, and she took it without question. She set the wooden spoon down and stepped away to pull the shirt over her head. The shirt was still warm from his flesh, and smelled like…like him. Rugged and a little musky, but pleasant and clean. He picked up the spoon and continued stirring the eggs, rather than watching her.

  She pulled her hair through the neckhole and reached for the spoon. Her fingers brushed his, and his eyes shot to hers. “I’ve got it from here,” she said. “It’ll be ready in a minute.”

  “Tessa,” he murmured, his thumb caressing her cheekbone. “You look at me like I might bite.”

  She wished he would.

  They ate in silence. Tessa’s concoction was strange, something he’d never tasted. But it was delicious. The bean flour tortillas gave the eggs a grainy, earthy flavor that set off the onions and peppers. And that the whole mess was fluffy and light, something that wouldn’t sit like a weight in his stomach if he had to go tracking or hunting on a full stomach…

  It would have been a treat to wake up to, even had it not come with the added bonus of watching her move around almost naked. That he’d had several uninterrupted minutes of staring at her ass in front of the stove, or bent over in front of the drawers…he’d have to make a little time for himself to jack off before he started his day. It wouldn’t do for his packmates to see him sporting a raging hard-on as he went about his duties.

  He lived off jerky, or whatever was being served in whichever adviser’s home he was currently meeting with. There just wasn’t time or inclination for him to cook intricate meals like this. But it spoiled him. He wished he’d taken Tessa as his mate under other circumstances, to have a hope of this manner of treat regularly. It wasn’t just that the food was good…it was that he liked the way his whole home smelled like care and hospitality. He liked the way she smiled at him in between bites, not fishing for a compliment, but not turning his clumsy compliments down just the same.

  His home was warmer for her presence. Even if he largely didn’t know what the fuck to do about it.

  He put his plate on the counter and walked back for another shirt. He liked his where it was—caressing Tessa’s curves. His inner beast gurgled in satisfaction at the way the soft cotton hugged the slope of her breasts, the way it rode up on her ass from static friction with her panties. Just the faint sliver of light tracing the curve of her ass-cheek as it peeked out the bottom…

  Maybe it wasn’t Tessa’s cooking that made his home seem warmer.

  When he walked back out into the main space, Tessa was scrubbing his plate clean. He had an early meeting with Quentin to finish finalizing the details of the treaty with the Kumori. Things like how much additional food and water they would be provided each week and when the clans would train together. It was an important meeting—the whole reason Tessa was even here—but he still wasn’t happy at the thought of not helping her clean up. He’d have to figure out some way to make it up to her later. He was already running late because of how long he’d dawdled in her silent companionship.

  Maybe he should ask if she wanted him to pass Quentin a letter on her behalf, to be delivered when Quentin returned to the Kumori to report in. He didn’t have time just now, though. And a piece of him was hesitant. It would seem like a breach of trust for him to read it, but he couldn't not, with the possibility that she was gathering intelligence for the Kumori.

  He swallowed, his throat tight with guilt. He wouldn’t extend the offer, because then he wouldn’t have to prove his distrust. He’d have to confront that conflict later, but for the moment, he just wanted to start off the day peacefully, his belly full of Tessa’s cooking and his eyes full of her body’s delights.

  She set the plate to the side, and her eyes flicked up to him. “You heading out?”

  “Yeah. I’ve got a meeting.”

  “I’ve got this,” she said and turned toward the sink to reach for her own plate.

  It didn’t seem right leaving with such a terse farewell. Not when she was covered in his scent, wearing his clothes. Before he could talk himself out of it, he leaned into her and pressed his lips against her temple. “Thanks for breakfast.”

  Her skin was so warm, so sweetly scented under his lips, like almonds and cream and sugar. And once he’d had a taste, he couldn’t tear himself away. He kissed her again, lower on her cheekbone this time.

&
nbsp; Her lips parted. “Marrock—”

  He kissed her again, his lips slowly blazing a path to hers. He should stop; he’d promised her it was a political arrangement only. That he wouldn’t touch her. He wouldn’t go back on his word; she wasn’t here because of an interest in him. She was here to protect her pack. And no matter whether he was developing an interest in her, too, he was here for the same reason. He wouldn’t endanger their treaty by overstepping himself, by kissing her senseless, until she felt she had to run to daddy to get away from his advances.

  He wouldn’t kiss her. He’d stop here. He could taste her breath. That would have to sate the beast. He wouldn’t kiss her—

  Her lips found his, plush and desperate. Her body turned toward him, her breasts brushing against his chest. Without a conscious thought, his palms were on her back, crushing her against himself, savoring the way her firm body had just enough give, just enough softness to make him come alive, make him desperate to claim her, to rut with her, to—

  Her lips parted, and her tongue warred with his. Despite the moments of softness, he couldn’t forget that she was a huntress in her own regard. She wouldn’t simply let him kiss her. She’d turn it into a delicate and fierce dance. She’d sear him with her mouth’s heat, and just a little nibble. Just a little aggression, to remind him exactly who he was dealing with.

  Liam was lost. He couldn’t have pulled away from her if Elias himself was knocking at the door. He couldn’t tear his hands from creeping under her shirt. He was glued to her. There was no world outside of the lithe woman in his arms. His mate. His.

  His cock was so hard it ached, just from her kiss. This wasn’t in their agreement. His conscious-self panicked, even as his bestial-self called the shots. His palm slid lower on her back, under the band of her underwear, to cup the curve of her ass. That tantalizing curve that he’d stared at as she’d cooked.

  And the enormity of it hit him. Even now, his pack could be falling to hell while he kissed her. Even now, she might be looking for a way to pull away without hurting his feelings. He’d overstepped. He’d overstepped bad. He couldn’t believe he was losing control like this…

  She pulled away, breathing heavily. At least he wasn’t the only one affected.

  “Have a good day,” she muttered, and fled, disappearing into her bedroom.

  Liam backed away toward the door, not wanting the fight he knew was coming when she came to her senses.

  Chapter 12

  Their meal together had emboldened Tessa. Even Marrock was softening to her—or hardening in the right ways, if those explosive kisses had been any indication—so why wouldn’t she be able to work some magic with the rest of his pack? Marrock may have overlooked the introductions, or perhaps not cared enough to offer them, but people would have to meet her sooner or later. A pack alpha by mating was slightly different than a pack alpha by merit; no doubt he had others waiting in the wings to suss her out, see which she would be.

  She’d done it once, she could do it again. She wouldn’t wallow in self-pity. She’d put her ear to the ground and look for a way to make herself useful. She’d prove to these strangers that she deserved a rank in their midst. Now, they might look at her as a burden or a possession, but in time, they’d look at her as an authority and an asset.

  She’d start with the rest of them, and then move on to Marrock.

  Someone knocked on the door, and her heart jumped. Had Marrock come back, hoping for a home-cooked lunch, too? She had leftovers, but given his schedule, it seemed unlikely. She didn’t expect to see him again until sundown, which gave her time to figure out how she’d look him in the eye.

  She wanted to be mad at him for stealing those kisses, but she was far more mad at herself. Because she’d kissed him. He’d moved the pieces into place, but she’d been the one to clinch it. It wasn’t in their arrangement, and it wasn’t going to help her earn his pack’s respect. Far from it; it would only convince him, and them, that her body was the only thing of interest.

  “Coming,” she yelled.

  She raced to her bedroom to look for a pair of pants. Even if it was Marrock, she’d had enough of the way her insides twisted when he stared at her bare legs. And his hand on her ass earlier…

  No. She had other shit to do. She hurriedly dressed and opened the door.

  A woman greeted her, her eyes wary and shaded with surprise. “Is M in?”

  “M?” Tessa’s eyebrows dropped together. Her inner wolf already hated the woman for the perfunctory way she spoke to Tessa, and the fact that she hadn’t even attempted to introduce herself, though she must know who Tessa was.

  “Marrock. Is he in?”

  Tessa hadn’t realized Marrock’s pack abbreviated his name. It seemed disrespectful; why did he let them do it? Would he let her do it, or would he only find it disrespectful coming from her lips?

  “No, sorry. He took off earlier. I’m—” Tessa changed what she was about to say midsentence. She didn’t want to lose face with this woman by admitting she didn’t know her way around to know where to direct her. “I’m Tessa, his mate. Maybe I can help.”

  Tessa kept her chin up, hoping to project authority, but she didn’t feel so tough standing in front of this woman. It was like looking in a mirror—almost. They had the same tanned skin, but this woman was tanner. They had the same dark hair, but this woman’s had more bounce. And they had the same athletic build, but this woman was a few inches taller and her strength more defined. Her jean shorts and plaid shirt played it down somewhat, but Tessa could see the way the shirt material pulled against the woman’s shoulders.

  Stripped down to wolf form, this woman was likely the stronger of the two. In every way, this woman was Tessa…but more. Was Tessa going to end up the runt of the pack? That was going to make this an upward climb, but she set her jaw, ready for the challenge.

  It’s not the size of the dog, it’s the pressure of the bite. Bring it.

  “Are you—are you sizing me up?” the woman asked. Her eyebrow cocked, but the look wasn’t entirely friendly. But then, she laughed softly. A warm, welcoming tone. Her challenge was replaced with a cheerful smile. “Mara,” she said, holding out her hand. “Sorry about that. I’m just a little stressed. Putting out a fire, and could use the alpha’s help.”

  So this was Mara. Tessa’d expected someone…bitchier. She hadn’t expected the welcoming grin, the cheerful submission, the light way she’d shaken off Tessa’s inappropriate stare.

  Maybe Tessa could help her. It would be sure to be a good start if she could. She’d helped her father with adjudicating conflicts before; she wasn’t a soft-pawed youngling.

  “Talk to me,” Tess said. “I bet we can keep it off Marrock’s plate. From what he said earlier, his meetings sounded important. Better to not interrupt the boss-man if you don’t have to, right?”

  Mara’s eyes narrowed, and Tessa couldn’t tell whether it was wariness or a concealed laugh. The woman seemed to play her cards close to her chest. “Sure. Come on. I’ll tell you on the way.”

  Tessa didn’t bother with shoes; as a holdover from her transformations, her feet were calloused and used to whatever the ground might throw at her. And it would be nice to have company. If Mara rethought approaching her and backed away, Tess would be alone again, waiting for Marrock to make it home.

  Mara walked fast. Tessa didn’t strain to keep pace, though Mara was almost a head taller than Tessa. Even the little bit of exercise was a blessing, making Tessa miss the earth under her paws. Her blood sang at the thought of being useful, and her inner beast howled at the idea of having an outlet for all of her irritation.

  “It’s my cousin,” Mara started. “He’s a hunter. A good one. But lately, his weigh-ins with the quartermaster have been…miscounted. They’ve been shorting him stuff for the healing poultices, and absinthe doses to which he’s entitled. Some days by as much as a quarter of the going rate. He’s a patient man, but it’s been going on long enough, and he doesn’t have the ear of any
one powerful enough to put some pressure on the quartermaster to fix it. But, you know how it is. Without the poultice to help him heal, and absinthe’s power over his transformations, how can he hunt as productively? How can he provide for his family? I’ve been passing rations to his daughter for months. But that can’t happen long term. I’m at my wits' end. I’ve sat in on the past several petition days, to no avail. With territorial frictions…there’s just too much other stuff for the alphas to deal with to care about one impoverished hunter.”

  She shrugged, and try as Tessa might, Tessa couldn’t find any blame or anger in it. Just…weariness. Like that was the way of the world.

  Which it admittedly was. But the resources coming to the Nefari were entirely because of Tessa. If she couldn’t see justice carried here, when could she? Unless the quartermaster had some justification for it, it seemed black and white. An honest day’s work for an honest day’s rewards. How could the pack trust in that system, if they were overlooking those for whom it wasn’t true?

  “It’s the Calcarea Phosphorica, isn’t it?” she asked.

  Mara nodded. “I can get the arnica and comfrey for the healing poultice, but the CP doesn’t grow here many places, and the poultice won’t work near as well without it. So he’s at the whim of the elders who determine who gets the poultice.”

  “That situation should be improving soon,” Tessa promised, wanting to give the woman something to hold onto. “We’ll figure something out in the meantime.”

  “I hope so,” Mara said. She continued to lead Tessa until they reached a somewhat run-down home on the outskirts of the Nefari camp.

  A man was whittling something as he sat on the front steps. In the back yard, a child was calling.

  Mara raised a hand in greeting and called out to him. “Hey, Gunner. Got Tessa here—Marrock’s new mate. I told you I’d find someone to hear you out.”

  A grin broke across his weathered face, and he dropped his knife and wood to the side. “Really? Come on in, then. Not really much to put on the table, but I can brew a mean batch of tea...”