Lust Potion For the Alpha

by Alice Coldbreath

  That brought Jorah up short.

  “She realised there were large areas of your life that she would never be permitted access to. And quite right too,” he added rallying. “After all, she would always be an outsider.”

  Jorah felt his blood run cold.

  “Never that,” he argued but his tone lacked conviction even to his own ears.

  “But of course she would be. Even as the mother of your cubs, unmated she would never be part of your pack.”

  Jorah swallowed.

  “You don’t understand…”

  “No Jorah,” replied his uncle gently. “It was you who did not understand. If you wanted her purely as human chattel you should never have bitten her.”

  “Chattel?” he repeated incredulously. “That is not how I-how I see her.“

  “Isn’t it? His uncle shrugged. “What other view is there? Pray enlighten me? Us.” He said sweeping wide his arm to show the rest of his pack staring at him intently. Alfric, Baris, Ran, Geoffrey, even Matilda who had appeared in the doorway with another tray of refreshments.

  “She is mine!”

  He wasn’t sure he’d even said it aloud until he saw a looks of satisfaction cross Alfric and Ran’s faces.

  “I’m afraid not,” his uncle sniffed plunking down his empty glass and gesturing for a refill. “She’s a practical woman and knows when she’s not wanted. She’ll not stay around waiting to be told to leave.”

  “What?” For a long moment he actually contemplated grabbing his uncle by his scrawny neck. “Where is she?” he ground out ominously.

  His uncle frowned slightly when he realised Matilda was not going to bring him that drink.

  “Hmmm? Right now?” he asked with a shrug. “Somewhere on the road leading South out of Varkash.”

  “She’s what?” thundered Jorah shooting out his seat so fast he overturned it.

  His uncle focussed his gaze on Jorah with effort as if he’d almost forgotten what they were talking about.

  “Oh my friends from St Anthony’s collected her over an hour ago,” he answered airily. “They’ve set off on their annual pilgrimage to the Summerlands. They took Isolde with them…”

  In the three long strides it took for him to reach the door Jorah transformed and bolted from the room like a bat out of hell. His ears were ringing, his chest burning, his vision blurred. She was leaving him! In all the possible scenarios he’d played through his head, he’d never envisaged that. He’d felt their bond even without the threefold mating. He’d known she was his, that she belonged at his side. And foolishly, he’d thought she felt it too. That she would have known, no matter what bullshit he was spouting, however much of an asshole he was being, that they belonged. But apparently not. Apparently, his beautiful wife thought she was rejected, found lacking, not wanted. The thought sent white-hot pain lancing through his brain. His wolf howled within him, tearing and shredding at his soul with his vicious claws. It was his fault! He’d hurt her, through his own insecurities he’d caused her pain. She had no illusions about any pretensions to beauty. His uncle’s words had been like a slap to the face. He found her so beautiful it almost hurt. Perhaps you should have picked the family beauty? He was reeling. Is that really what she thought? He could barely remember her insipid sister! And had she really felt that he had deliberately shut her out? His paws hit the gravel track leading down to the dower house and he increased his break-neck speed. His stomach clenched and roiled when he picked up the scent of the wagon and several holy men which led to his uncle’s house. Cedric hadn’t lied. The monks had passed this way. Some part of him had held onto the vain hope his uncle might have fabricated the story in order to punish him. But no, his nose told him otherwise. He had to stop himself from howling with rage and loss when he traced Isolde herself joining the wagon. No! No, no… He hurtled along the track. Not my Isolde, the refrain sounded over and over in his pain-drenched mind. I can’t lose her! His worst fears, had all come true. Despite his precautions, his dogged determination to stay aloof from that measure of bond, that measure of affection. Almost because of his fears, they had become true. Instead of showering his bride with his affection, he had had grudgingly given her only aspects of it and never freely. He had given her crumbs from his table instead of setting her at the head of it. He was a cursed fool! Everyone had tried to tell him, his family, his pack, even his tenants… They’d all recognised her for what she was. His mate. And he’d refused to listen. He’d driven her away. When he thought of her hurting because of his stupidity he felt he could lose grip of his sanity. Go hurtling into the abyss of pain that hovered on the edges of his mind. His wolf was clamouring, forcing him off the road and – what? He realised he was plunging straight into Felan woods. He tried to pull himself up, but his wolf was having none of it. Her scent, her glorious scent, he yipped in triumph. And then he realised… Isolde was somewhere in these woods. He stopped thinking altogether and just moved.

  Issy sighed, glancing down at her basket. She had almost all of the ingredients now, all save one which Cedric had called Aconitum. He had included a drawing of the purple flower which she examined again before scanning the wood. This one was going to prove harder to find. She waved at the monks who were stood off in the distance collecting their own herbs and plants. Too far off for her to ask for some advice on where she could find this elusive Aconitum she realised regretfully. Just then a rustling in the undergrowth caught her attention. What was that? It was big, like maybe a dog.. or a wolf she thought in delayed reaction when a huge black beast burst out towards her, his pale blue eyes flashing like aquamarines. Her own scream of shock was muffled as she realised almost at once who it was. She could hear the cries of the monks as they took flight, crashing through the trees in their haste to escape the giant wolf. Then right before her eyes he transformed into her big, naked husband.

  Jorah stood staring at her, his eyes intense, focussed only on her. She didn’t think he’d even noticed the monks. The basket fell from her nerveless fingers as he backed her up against the nearest tree.

  “J-Jorah!” she blurted as he came up flush against her.

  He lowered his head to lay his face against the spot between her neck and shoulder and inhaled deeply.

  Almost without thinking her hand flew to pet his head tangling her fingers in his hair. He groaned, opening his mouth to graze his teeth against her sensitive skin.

  Her eyes widened and she stiffened anticipating his bite. She felt the soft kiss instead and was shocked to feel almost disappointment. He pulled back to gaze down at her.

  “I missed you,” he said brokenly. “I love you – Gods – you’re the only woman for me. Just you and no-one else Isolde Mallon-Garth!”

  She stared up at him. He took a deep breath, placing his hands on either side of her face gently, reverently.

  “Don’t leave me Issy. Please. I’ve been such a fool, such a bloody fool.”

  “I-“

  “I couldn’t stand it,” he interrupted her, his voice shaking. “Gods! I love you so much …” He closed his eyes briefly and rested his forehead against hers. “Say you won’t leave me, please.”

  Issy tore her gaze from his with effort as she struggled to remember what she needed to say. He looked so tortured, it almost ripped the heart out of her chest!

  “Jorah I need to tell you something and you won’t be happy…”

  “You’re not going back to your father’s house,” he ground out. “We can work this out.”

  “My father’s house?” she echoed in confusion.

  “You’re mine and you belong here with me. You’ve belonged to me ever since that first feast when I laid eyes on you,” he told her grimly. “If I have to, I’ll lock you in my bedchamber for a month until you accept the truth.”

  “Jorah!” she gaped at his words. “Would you just listen?”

  “No,” he said releasing her and stepping back to place both his hands on her shoulders, staring into her eyes. “We belong together,” he to
ld her heavily. “You are my mate. And I’m yours. My whole life has gone to hell in the last two days. I’m miserable without you, half-crazed. I refuse to lose you.”

  She swallowed a sudden lump in her throat.

  “Really?”

  “Really,” he said, his gaze softening for the first time. “I want you to come home with me. Our home. And then I want you to complete our bond and drink my blood.”

  She could feel the smile that curved her lips even as her eyes filled with tears.

  “I want that more than anything,” she told him in a choked voice. “But first I have a confession to make. I hope it doesn’t change your mind about me,” her voice faltered. “But I have to tell you.”

  He gave her a slightly wild look, as though patience was an effort for him at this point.

  “What is it?”

  Issy licked her suddenly dry lips.

  “I – when we first met. I wanted you to pick me, not my sister,”

  He nodded,

  “Aye,” he said huskily.

  “I knew that I would never get your attention by fair means, so I – I…”

  He bent his head slightly to catch her words.

  “Yes?”

  “I wore a potion…” she gazed up at him with guilt stricken eyes. “I cheated. It was a lust potion.” She nearly choked over the words, lowering her eyes with shame.

  He met her words with utter silence. When she finally plucked the nerve to look up at his expression, she found remorse rather than disgust. That confused her, why was he looking guilt-stricken?

  “So … you weren’t trying to prevent the consummation of our wedding?” he asked slowly. “The potion was to inflame my senses … not repulse me?”

  She stared at him.

  “I don’t think you understand…”

  He groaned.

  “Just when I think I couldn’t feel any worse, you show me I’m wrong, Issy. I see I also need to make our wedding night up to you.”

  “Jorah I don’t follow-“

  “You were the one I wanted not your sister,” he answered shortly, reaching out his hand. “Let’s get back to the Keep now. I need to be alone with you. Naked.”

  “N-no, Jorah!” she snatched back her hand eliciting a growl from him.

  “My wolf is anxious for me to mate you,” he answered gruffly. “Stop resisting us or I’ll put you over my shoulder.”

  “Jorah! Did you hear what I said?” she squeaked in dismay.

  He sighed, before raking a hand down his face.

  “Try to understand, Issy. I’m desperate for you. Every fibre of my being is clamouring for me to mate you.”

  She hung her head.

  “I know,” she whispered. “But that’s not down to me. It’s the potion. You never really wanted me. It was just the potion that made you think you did…”

  Fingers under her chin jerked her face up to meet his incredulous gaze.

  “Are you serious?” he demanded. “My gods… I hated that damn scent. You know I did. I vomited on our wedding night! Whatever the hell it was, it didn’t work on me. I picked you in spite of that revolting perfume not because of it!”

  Her lips trembled.

  “I don’t think so,” she said sadly.

  His eyes narrowed.

  “Nothing I can say can convince you?”

  “No,” she admitted. “But that doesn’t matter,” she said rallying her spirits, “because Uncle Cedric has devised an antidote to it.”

  “An antidote?”

  “To free you from its influence. And then you can decide rationally if you really… want me or not.”

  “That’s …” his nostrils flared. “Bloody ridiculous Isolde! I wanted you from the very first!”

  “Because of the lust potion,” she pointed out, bending down to scoop up the fallen basket. “Not on my own merit.”

  He shook his head.

  “You’re not making sense. That perfume mercifully wore off weeks ago.”

  “It could still be affecting you,” she insisted stubbornly.

  He puffed out a tortured breath.

  “I can’t believe this.” His voice shook with emotion. “I picked you because you were warm and gorgeous and because you made my wolf howl for you from the first. My beast would not be fooled by some damn perfume Issy. It wanted you from the outset. It knew you were my mate, my only one.”

  He looked so sincere she had to break her gaze from his.

  “I need to be sure,” she insisted. “To be sure you won’t regret picking me.”

  “I would never regret it, never Issy.”

  “I just … I don’t want you to make a mistake … “ she blinked away the approaching tears. “I don’t want to unfairly trap you.”

  “Gods! Trap me? I’d willingly climb into a cage so long as you joined me there Issy, don’t you know that?” He frowned sounding a bit hurt. “You can’t really think I wouldn’t have picked you…”

  She snatched up Cedric’s list, avoiding his gaze.

  “It won’t take me much longer, I have most of the ingredients now.”

  “Issy…”

  “I just…” she gave him a brave smile. “I need to make sure.”

  He made a sound of impatience.

  “Issy, I told you, it wore off weeks ago.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “What?”

  She swallowed painfully.

  “Look at me.” She made a sweeping gesture with her hand. “You desire me, above all other women?”

  “Yes,” he growled.

  “You think I’m comely. Attractive.”

  “I think you’re fucking beautiful.”

  “There you go.”

  He frowned again.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m not beautiful Jorah. Far from it.”

  He opened his mouth to argue but she held up her hand to forestall him.

  “Please, I know what the sum of my twenty-three years has taught me. Trying to convince me otherwise is futile.” She took a breath. “Before you came to my father’s house I never received a single offer of marriage Jorah. Not one. My sister on the other hand… Men approached my father all the time for her hand. So you see, I know what beauty is.”

  “Just because the Summerlands men are blind doesn’t mean…”

  “Jorah,” she interrupted him. “Bronwen is beautiful. Yes she is,” she insisted stamping her foot when he made a dismissive gesture. “You’re telling me you honestly think I’m more beautiful than she?”

  “Yes I do!” he argued.

  “Then, that proves it,” she said raising her chin. “The potion is deceiving you and your senses. You’re not acting rationally.”

  He glared back at her and she could see his nostrils flaring with frustration, his brain racing to think of ways to convince her his attraction was real. She sighed and hitched the basket further up her arm, turning her back to him.

  “I am happy to come back to the Keep with you Jorah but until we’ve determined …”

  Issy squealed with alarm as her whole world tilted and two arms like steel bands scooped her up and then deposited her on the grassy bank flat on her back.

  “I think, I’ve been very patient about this darling,” he said calmly as he reached under her skirts and dragged down her underwear. He whipped it off her ankles and threw it over his shoulder. “But it appears I have reached the end of my tether.” He slipped off her shoes and they too went sailing into the trees. She gaped at him. “I can appreciate that I have acted like a complete and utter fucking moron, so I can’t entirely blame you for this situation we find ourselves in.” He pulled down one of her stockings and then the other before grabbing her skirts and dragging them up to her hips to expose her naked thighs and belly. He gave her a lascivious look before inching up her body to kneel on either side of her hips pinning her firmly in place. “But really sweeting,” he carried on, expelling a breath as he settled his hard cock against her slit. “A lust
potion? Really?” Issy struggled to sit up to try and reason with him but he pressed a palm firmly between her breasts and pushed her back down. “I don’t think so,” he said looking down at her thoughtfully and then he hooked two hands on either side of her neckline and tore them apart with a huge tearing rent.

  “Jorah!” she spluttered in panic as her breasts spilled out. “The holy brethren are in these woods!”

  He laughed shortly.

  “My poor little Issy, they scattered as soon as I appeared. You’re left all alone with your big bad husband who has every intention of hard-mating you right now against this bank.”

  She felt her breath catch at his words.

  “Wait! Just wait a minute…”

  “Oh I’ve waited enough, Issy and I’m not a patient man.” His eyes darkened to that deep turquoise she knew so well.

  “I don’t want you to take this decision lightly!” she cried out. “Uncle Cedric told me … about your parents.”

  He didn’t even wince.

  “Did he?” he answered. He reached out and palmed both her breasts, massaging them in round lazy circles. “You know, if you want to talk about unfair advantages,” he said thoughtfully. “These were your unfair advantage, sweetheart. They forced all rational thought from my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about what they’d feel like, naked to my touch. Like this.” His voice thickened. “Truthfully I barely gave your sister a second glance. You say she was the family beauty?”

  She nodded.

  “Bullshit. You’re beautiful. The most beautiful woman I know.” He stared down at her, before pulling back slightly and shaking his head. “You know when I think about you dousing yourself in an aphrodisiac before attending that feast I find myself fucking furious Issy.” His voice was still measured despite the words, although a little gravelly.

  “Yes, I deceived you..” she agreed miserably, “You have every right to be angry”.

  He smiled, a dangerous glint in his eye before continuing almost as if she hadn’t spoken.

  “An aphrodisiac is traditionally imbibed Issy, didn’t you know that?”

  She shook her head transfixed by his uncanny control.

  “Otherwise how do you know you will hit the right target?”