Lust Potion For the Alpha

by Alice Coldbreath

  “Excellent, where do you keep it Issy my dear?”

  “In my bottom drawer wrapped in some navy stockings,” she answered with alacrity.

  “Martha, it is imperative that no-one sees you removing this very tiny glass bottle from Lady Isolde’s room.”

  “Course,” she agreed, bobbing her head.

  “It is likely the Keep may be in some disarray due to Lady Isolde’s disappearance. Everyone will likely be somewhat distracted.”

  Martha bobbed a curtsey, her eyes very wide. She backed out of the door without once taking her round brown eyes off Issy.

  “I think you have found a new admirer,” chuckled Cedric.

  Issy bit her lip.

  “I really don’t think she should be looking up to me after what I’ve done,” she wavered uneasily.

  “I see nothing wrong with her taking you for a role model,” he answered with a smile. “You have a great deal of initiative and good sense.”

  Unsure how he could think such a thing after what she had just confessed Issy plucked nervously at her sleeve.

  “Do you really think they will have noticed my absence at the Keep already?” she asked nervously.

  “Sure to have,” he answered cheerfully. “And it won’t take long for Jorah to track your scent here either. In fact, I expect him imminently.”

  A thunderous great knocking started on the front door as if on cue.

  Issy shot out of her chair.

  “I don’t want to bring any trouble down on you-“ she started in alarm.

  “Nonsense, my dear. You sit back down.”

  “It’d be better if I just-“

  “No, no. You’re not going back with him tonight. I actually think you should stay here for a few days. Let him realise what he’s missing.”

  “But-“

  “Yes, my dear. It’s best to let him stew. I really think you’ve taken enough from him lately.” He fixed a stern look on his face. “Don’t make me revise my good opinion of you,” he said sternly.

  Issy gulped.

  “He’ll be furious,” she warned him even as she sank back onto the seat.

  “Oh yes,” he said pressing his lips together in disapproval. “I imagine he will be. He’s always liked his own way. No matter what you hear, don’t stir from this spot.”

  She nodded and he smiled at her.

  “Good girl.”

  Jorah hammered his fist against his uncle’s door. He knew for a fact the old bastard was not hard of hearing. Isolde’s scent had inexorably led him to the dower house and he could tell she’d been in some distress. He cursed.

  “Cedric!” he shouted.

  Finally one of the windows on the first floor creaked open and his uncle’s silver grey head popped out.

  “Jorah, the hour is late. I am not in the habit of receiving callers into the night.”

  “Well I think you’ve received one caller in the last hour at least,” he responded dryly. “Kindly hand over my wife.”

  Cedric’s bushy eyebrows shot up.

  “Lady Isolde is a person Jorah, not a possession. And she will be remaining here for tonight. And indeed, the foreseeable future.”

  Jorah took a step back,

  “What?” He glowered up at his uncle. He felt beyond reason irritated that he had not opened the door to him, probably expecting he would barge past. Canny old goat.

  “I’m afraid she does not wish to return with you,” his uncle replied calmly.

  “She said that?”

  “She did. It is unfortunate, but you could hardly expect a lady of her spirit to accept such an insult.”

  “What insult?” he all but roared.

  His uncle narrowed his gaze.

  “Kindly moderate your tone, nephew,” he said loftily.

  Jorah ground his teeth.

  “I refer of course to your decision to withhold her rightful place at your side as your mate.”

  Jorah sucked in a breath, but his uncle held out a hand forestalling him.

  “Kindly do not give me a rehash of your paltry motivations. I am all too familiar with them and I abhor cowardice.”

  Jorah bit back a curse.

  “Lady Isolde has journeyed miles from her homeland to a join a family, nay, a pack of which she knew nothing with far more courage than you demonstrated in entering matrimony. She puts you to shame.”

  “I want to talk with her,” Jorah ground out, his patience surely tried.

  “Unfortunately that won’t be possible. She was understandably distraught and I administered a sedative. She is fast asleep.”

  “If you think for one minute that I am leaving her under your roof …”

  “And if you think,” bellowed Cedric suddenly furious , “That she could possibly come to any harm in my house after the way you have treated and devastated her in yours then you have taken complete leave of your sense boy!”

  Jorah rocked back on his heels, stunned at his mild-mannered uncle’s ire.

  “I said she’s asleep. If you’ve any sense left rattling in that head of yours, you’ll think on your situation tonight and come back with your tail tucked ‘twixt your legs in the morning!” He cast one last reproachful look at his nephew. “You really have made an utter hash of this nephew!”

  The window slammed.

  Jorah stared up at it in consternation. What the bloody hells had she said to Cedric to get him all riled up like that, he seethed. He’d never even heard him raise his voice before let alone shout! He cast a last look up at the windows to see if he could see the lurking silhouette of his errant wife anywhere in sight, before he took off pacing up the drive to the Keep, muttering dire consequences.

  Over the next couple of days Jorah found his patience sorely tested as a series of people dropped him on him unannounced to give him advice on how to keep a wife. It was astounding how everyone seemed to think they would be able to handle Isolde better than he had. He bit of Alfric’s head for the second time that morning before his beta retreated muttering under his breath about his foul temper.

  “I’m well aware of the fact you think I’ve been nothing but a beast to her since I wed her,” he shouted after him as Alfric slammed the door.

  “You’ve never been anything else!” Alfric shouted back at him in an unusual display of temper. “I wash my hands of you!”

  Later that same morning Baris appeared in the armoury while Jorah tried to keep himself occupied. He looked up as his brother hovered purposefully.

  “Something to say?” he demanded.

  “You look like hell,” said his brother flatly. “Have you even been sleeping?”

  Jorah stared at him

  “I slept fine.”

  “Really,” Baris snorted. “We could hear you pacing a hole in the floor past midnight.”

  Jorah bit his tongue,

  “You don’t even like her,” he reminded his brother tersely.

  “Who said I don’t?” protested Baris. “I’m starting to come around. I mean, I never met a woman before who could get you dancing to her tune.”

  “Shut the hell up.”

  Baris sat down beside him with a sigh.

  “You may have to accept you’re not in control here. Why don’t you just high tail it down to Cedric’s with your tail between your legs.”

  Jorah ground his teeth,

  “I’m not going back down there for her,” he insisted. “She can come back to me.”

  “I hope it’s worth it, man. You got your pride but it’s not gonna keep you warm at night.”

  Jorah had to get up and walk away.

  Ran had appeared in his study the third morning with the human maid in tow. To explain, he told his brother. Jorah looked up from his ledger with his most fierce glower but the solemn girl before him gazed steadily back seemingly unaffected by his temper. She certainly didn’t look much like a tavern wench in her buttoned up brown sack gown and unflattering mob cap. He sighed.

  “Very well, go ahead then,” he said with as m
uch patience as he could muster.

  “You see my Lord, when Ran kissed me – it was an experiment only. Not a real kiss. Far from it. As you can see, I’m not the sort of girl that boys kiss. Villagers or wolves,” she added gravely. She spoke her words so seriously that it gave Jorah pause. He shot a glance at Ran who was looking suspiciously virtuous.

  “I had no idea my brother was so interested in scientific trials,” he said bitingly. “I’m afraid you must explain to me why you felt the need to – er – experiment with kisses?”

  “You see it has always been my intention to join a convent as soon as I reach eighteen. So I can study books and latin. Ran was endeavouring to show me what I would be missing out on. We both confirmed that I am not cut out for kissing at all. I would be much better off at a nunnery.”

  Jorah shot another glance at Ran who had the grace to look slightly discomforted. Looking back at the girl’s round green eyes Jorah realised she was entirely sincere.

  “I see,” said Jorah wearily. “Is it too much to ask that you might be done with any similar experimentation for the near future?”

  “Oh yes, my lord” she agreed folding her hands together. “I don’t see any need for any further tests.”

  Ran scuffed his feet and frowned.

  Jorah shrugged,

  “Well, that clears that up then,” he said. “You can both leave now and go about your business.”

  They both started to move away when he changed his mind.

  “Hold - you can wait a moment. I have something further to say to you. Ran you can go.”

  Ran surprised him by stopping in front of the door and then turned back resolutely to stand by Moira’s side, lifting his eyes in a head-on challenge. Jorah’s eyebrows rose. He had no idea Ran possessed a protective bone in his body.

  “Moira, isn’t it?” he ground out irritably.

  “Yes my Lord.”

  “If it’s books and latin you want, you could do worse than approach Cedric. He has need of someone to pass his knowledge onto and sadly none of us ever had the remotest interest.”

  Moira stared, a pretty pink blush spreading across her face as her composure slipped badly.

  “But … would he really take me as his apprentice?” she blurted. “I mean… I’m human .. and a female.”

  Ran’s head turned sharply in surprise at her enthusiasm.

  “Well, as Alpha of this pack what I say goes,” answered Jorah coolly. “And I say you are a prime candidate for the position.” If it pissed off his uncle all the better in his eyes! Though he had a suspicion Cedric wouldn’t even blink an eye at gaining such a novice.

  Moira took a jerky step towards him.

  “My Lord! I – I would like it above all things!” she stammered wringing her hands together. “Why, it’s like a dream!”

  Jorah caught Ran’s sour expression with satisfaction as he realised his brother would have liked to have seen such an enraptured expression after he had kissed her. Well, well he thought grimly, his black mood lifting slightly for a second until he remembered there was another human female taking up Cedric’s time currently. His human female. His brows snapped back into a frown.

  “Leave me now,” he said abruptly. “I’ve things to do.”

  Moira backed towards the door, missed it and bumped her head on the wall. Ran reached for her with an exasperated look on his face and shepherded her though the doorway. He shot a look of puzzlement at Jorah as he left. As well he might reflected Jorah dropping his head into his hands. He never would have even contemplated such a thing three years ago. Entrusting pack secrets to a human. But his views had changed. Issy had changed them and there was no turning back now. He was doomed. And it wasn’t just his family who seemed hell-bent on discussing his missing wife with him. Every time he turned around someone was tutting or shaking their head at him. Either that or he got the silent reproachful look from his servants. Even his groomsmen waylaid him when he went for his gallop on the second morning.

  “They can be tricky m’lord, see? Yuman womenfolk,” proferred Jed giving him a sympathetic look. “You have to learn to mind ‘em when they gets a bee in their bonnet.”

  Jorah bit his tongue and waited for them to pass him his saddle.

  “Our Dilys, she gets in a rare taking sometimes,” joined in Roland as he hooked the bridle over Warrior’s head. “But we wouldn’t be without ‘er milord. Not for a million.”

  “I’m sure you wouldn’t,” he ground out. “I’ll take it from here.” They looked at one shaking their heads before leaving him to it. Their disappointment was palpable. It’s not me that needs talking to, he thought savagely. Why is no-one beating a track to her door to plead his cause? His own thoughts brought him up short. Not that he would do any pleading he frowned. He’d done nothing wrong. Warrior was skittish and veered away from him sensing his black mood. He had to reign it in, but he was finding it hard to concentrate on anything else. Since when had his frame of mind depended on a woman?

  Baris was right, he was losing it.

  On the third morning Jorah was astounded when his uncle breezed into the pack meeting as if he hadn’t been harbouring his nephew’s fugitive wife for the past few days. Jorah was vaguely aware of Alfric and Baris stirring uneasily on either side of him.

  “Ah good, refreshments,” commented his uncle helping himself to a small glass of mead from the tray. “How civilised.” He smiled around at everyone vaguely. “Have we reached ‘Any other business’ yet?

  Jorah breathed steadily through his nose intent on keeping his temper.

  “Did you have something you wanted to raise Cedric?” interceded Alfric frowning.

  “Dear me yes,” he placed his glass down, tenting his bony fingers together. “It’s about our Alpha’s mate.”

  It went deathly quiet.

  “I don’t have a mate,” Jorah answered in his most lethal voice.

  “And therein lies the problem, dear boy,” sighed his uncle. “I propose that the situation is rectified with all due haste.”

  “I have no intention of taking Isolde as a mate,” Jorah answered coldly.

  He heard a dissatisfied murmur from his assembled pack, but Cedric held up his hand.

  “Jorah’s quite right of course,” he concurred mildly. “We simply have to face facts. While Isolde is a pleasant young woman, their marriage was a mistake and simply has not worked out.”

  Jorah bit back his retort with an effort. He narrowed his eyes suspecting his uncle of trying to play the devil’s advocate. Luckily, Alfric snatched up the gauntlet meaning he didn’t have to.

  “I disagree,” Alfric argued hotly. “Isolde was like a breath of fresh air to Varkash. The tenants like her, the servants like her, I like her…”

  “My dear Alfric,” responded Cedric reproachfully. “You have me all wrong. I also like Isolde a good deal. But all of our feelings count for naught if Jorah does not consider her to be a fit mate.”

  Jorah felt his fingers tighten involuntarily around his tankard.

  “Being a fit mate has nothing to do with it,” he stated coldly. “Fit or not, I vowed never to take a mate. You know this.”

  “Yes, dear boy. I remember quite well you telling me on your fourteenth birthday,” Cedric replied calmly taking a sip of his honey fortified wine. “And do you remember what I told you?”

  Jorah gave a dismissive wave of his hand.

  “Something about her finding me,” he answered with a short, disbelieving laugh.

  “And I stand by that statement,” his uncle nodded sagely. “You unlike myself, are not suited for bachelorhood.”

  Baris snorted.

  “And so,” continued his uncle as if no-one had interrupted him. “Once Lady Isolde has been dispatched back to the Summerlands we can concentrate on having an inter-pack event where several females can be paraded for your inspection…”

  There was a murmur of protest from Ran and Geoffrey at this, but Jorah’s exclamation drowned them out.

  �
��What?” Jorah heard himself snap. “Isolde will not be returning to the Summerlands.” It was all he could do not to snarl.

  Cedric’s white eyebrows drifted up.

  “That would be most unfair on her, my boy. Even though you do not want her…”

  “Stop talking bloody nonsense!” Jorah found himself growling.

  “…I am sure there are many human males who would not find her entirely lacking in charm…” carried on his uncle steadily as if he had not spoken.

  Jorah brought the flat of his hand down on the table top with a bang.

  “There will be no other males!” he roared. “It isn’t wise to incite me like this old man!”

  Cedric regarded him with bemusement.

  “But my boy, I don’t understand. Isolde herself quite realises there can be no future for the two of you…”

  Jorah heard a sudden roaring in his ears. She had said that? No future for them? It took an effort to bring himself back to listen to Cedric wittering on about. He felt an acrid burning in the pit of his stomach to think of her saying such a thing.

  “It’s a pity, but maybe you should have picked the family beauty after all,” rambled on his uncle. “Issy is a homely little creature and will be much happier with some second son, maybe a country squire who could give her lots of children and won’t mind her organising his life.”

  Jorah actually felt winded, as if someone had punched him in the gut. He couldn’t even speak, imagining this bumpkin squire his uncle thought would suit his Issy better than him. He was so incensed he wanted to throw his uncle across the hall. And who the fuck was he describing as homely?

  “You see, she is under no illusions about any so-called claims to beauty.” Cedric gave a pitying smile. “Back in her father’s house she managed the running of the household to prove herself useful, worthy of his notice. When she has tried the same tactic here to win your regard… well, she met with nothing but resistance.”

  “What the hells are you talking about?” Jorah growled, finding his voice. “I gave her complete free reign over the running of the house.”

  “I think not my boy,” his uncle remonstrated. “After all, how many times did you tell her something was pack business and not hers?”