Half-Blooded
The Alpha's Mate
By Bethany Rousseau
Mobilisim
Copyright 2014 by Forbidden Fruit Press
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author.
Published by Forbidden Fruit Press
All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults, of at least eighteen years of age. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.
posted fon mobilisim forum.
Table Of Contents:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
mad.donna
Chapter One
“How is it my fault you’re fat?” Mia heard the words in the voice of her boyfriend—her ex-boyfriend, she reminded herself firmly, as she was staring out over the river from her vantage point on the bridge. She was seething with anger and pain as she leaned against the railing, tears welling up in her eyes, stinging and burning tracks along her cheeks as she remembered the encounter with him that ended their relationship. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, remembering the course of events in a flash of images and sounds in her mind. She had confronted Gary over the texts she had found on his phone when she had been looking for something else entirely; text messages that implied that the woman he was talking to was much more than just a friend. She and Gary had been together for years—they had been friends as children—and to find that he was sleeping around on her had made Mia angrier than anything else he could have done.
Or so she thought. She discovered when she confronted him about the text messages that he was ready to leave her anyway; that his cheating hadn’t just been the wandering eye and libido of a man who was bored. He had found a skinnier alternative, a leggy blonde that he liked more than her. Mia had screamed at him for his infidelity, saying that if he was so discontented with their relationship, why hadn’t he broken it off—or, more to the point, talked to her about it? That was when her former boyfriend’s anger had flared, and he had told her that while she was good “for the occasional quick lay,” she was not “marriage material.” That was also when he had asked her how it was his fault she was fat. “I don’t want pictures of me standing next to some giant woman who’s spilling out of a wedding dress.”
Mia had never thought of herself as fat—or obnoxiously large. She knew that she was not exactly skinny; puberty had come to her quickly and firmly, transforming a gangly, almost skinny little girl into a busty, full-hipped woman in a matter of a few years. Mia enjoyed life, ate what she pleased, and exercised regularly—she was in great shape. But her body was not at all the type to become model-thin, no matter how she might have starved herself to attain it if she had been interested. She had always thought of herself as a curvy bombshell, a woman built on the dimensions of Marilyn Monroe or Jane Russell; with her long legs and hourglass figure, Mia had never doubted her attractiveness until Gary had made his comments.
She shouldn’t have been surprised, Mia thought tiredly, staring at the city lights reflected by the moving water in front of her. It was the middle of the night; she had gone for a walk, in spite of the danger of it—tired, depressed, feeling trapped in her own apartment. She felt a twinge of pride that she had insisted that Gary would have to be the one to leave their shared space—and that anything he couldn’t take with him at once would be thrown out the next day. “I may be ‘fat,’” Mia had said heatedly—an opening that she regretted now—“But I’m not a cheating asshole. Go move in with your skinny little bitch; see how much she likes you then!” She had begun noticing a strain in their relationship almost a year before; she had gone to the doctor for her annual check-up, and the woman had noticed something that raised a red flag. Blood work and other tests confirmed that Mia had what the doctor had gently called “reproductive health problems,” and that she would almost certainly be unable to have any children. Mia had been devastated. While the idea of being a stay-at-home mom who did nothing but cook and clean and care for a child was certainly not on her list of best possible futures, she had wanted to have at least one child, to bring life into the world and to see it grow. Mia had hoped that she and Gary would be able to work through it—but in addition to calling her fat, he had made a half-dozen pot-shots about her infertility, proving that it was just as much on his mind, just as much a reason for his cheating.
The breakup had been a week before; true to her word, Mia had let Gary gather what he could carry out of the apartment—had even let him make two trips—and the next day, she had gathered up everything else that belonged to him. Everything in her apartment was a potential bomb waiting to go off; she threw out not just Gary’s personal items, but also the gifts he had given her over the years, anything that could possibly remind her of him. She had also gone to the hardware store and, with the landlord’s permission, had changed the locks on her doors. The last thing she wanted was for Gary to decide that she had wronged him, and that he should come into the apartment in the middle of the night to get his stuff back or to get revenge on her. While she would never have thought him capable of such a vindictive streak when they had been together, the fight that precipitated their breakup had made Mia realize that in spite of how nice he had pretended to be, Gary was not a good person deep down.
She wondered if he knew how much he had hurt her, how thoroughly he had shaken her self-confidence. Mia thought wryly that he probably did. Throwing out his things and changing the locks had taken the very last of her energy and enthusiasm, and Mia spent all of her spare time in the weeks since the breakup living as almost a hermit, numb and depressed. She wasn’t eating normally; she would get distracted with trying to hold herself together in public and forget breakfast and lunch, only to come home for dinner with her blood sugar through the floor, so thoroughly hungry that she was nauseated. She was starting to get tired of constantly feeling numb, of pushing back her sense of anger and resentment and grief so that nobody would know how upset she was, and sitting at home crying or just staring at the TV, uncaring of what was on—needing noise to fill the too-quiet apartment. She looked down over the railing of the bridge, watching the water rush past her, and decided that she would try something adventurous—something that might shake her up out of her depression and apathy. Maybe, Mia thought with a twinge of hope, if she did something risky, something just a little bit dangerous, she would stir herself out of the numbness she felt.
Mia carefully pulled herself up onto the railing, looking around to make sure that no one was watching her. She had no intention of jumping—and she certainly hoped she wouldn’t fall. She unsteadily made her way along the railing, to a precarious spot right at the middle of the bridge, the highest point. Her heart was beginning to pound, and Mia was almost—not quite—beginning to regret her choice. She could easily fall into the river, she thought with a mixture of dread and exhilaration. Mia faltered slightly as she shifted onto the pylon in the middle of the bridge, torn between sitting and standing; she wasn’t sure she
could sit down without losing her footing, but the height was beginning to give her vertigo.
“Hey! Up there!” Mia grabbed in a panic for the pylon, looking around in startlement at the sound of a voice calling. Her heart was pounding even faster than before, and she worried that it would be a policeman, thinking she was a vagrant or some kind of criminal, ready to haul her off before she could even explain what now seemed like a much less worthwhile idea. She spotted a tall figure at the base of the bridge, shadowed by the inconsistent light, waving a pale hand to get her attention and exhaled as he came out into the pool of light offered by a street lamp, walking towards her. In the moments he was under the light, Mia could see he wasn’t a police officer, which relieved her initial fear. As he approached she could also see that he was attractive, with a lean, muscular build and a rugged look to his face that Mia had to admit she liked. “You’re not going to jump are you?” he said, sounding slightly uncertain. Mia shook her head, smiling wryly.
“I’ve just been… well, I wanted a little excitement, I guess.” She had become so accustomed to hedging on the topic of her ex-boyfriend that even if the man who had come to check on her hadn’t been attractive, she would probably have avoided the topic anyway. Mia scrubbed at her tear-tracked face quickly, shifting carefully toward the railing. “Could you—please—help me down? I think my idea of excitement and the reality of it are not exactly the same.” The man chuckled and held up his hands, taking hold of Mia’s firmly and lifting her down off of the pylon. She was surprised at the strength in the man’s arms; even if he was muscular, Mia wouldn’t have necessarily thought he could have lifted her so easily. She pushed the thought aside as she realized she was standing very close to him.
“You look like you’ve been crying,” the man said, tilting his head slightly. Mia shrugged.
“Just… been having a difficult week,” she said, not wanting to talk about her woes with a stranger. She laughed slightly, taking a step back; she realized that she didn’t want to break away from the man—he was handsome in a rugged way, with a strong jaw and faint stubble along his cheeks, bright blue-green eyes and dark hair, and oddly soft-looking cupid’s bow lips.
“Is someone giving you a hard time? I know I don’t know you, but point me in the right direction and I’ll make them regret it. A beautiful woman like you shouldn’t be crying.” Mia blushed, looking away from the man.
“It’s nothing, really,” she said, shaking her head to dismiss the trouble. The man courteously changed the subject, stepping away from her to lean against the railing and look out over the water, giving her space and time to compose herself.
“Beautiful night tonight,” he observed. “It’s a great night to be out and about. When I saw you standing on the railing, I panicked a little bit—it’s a horrible night to throw yourself in the river.” Mia laughed, moving to stand next to him.
“I wasn’t planning on jumping in the river,” she said. “I’ve been kind of down this week, and I thought maybe if I did something exciting, it would short of snap me out of it. I didn’t really think it through though, so it was lucky you saw me.” The man turned his head and smiled at her, the expression smoothing some of the ruggedness of his features.
“What’s got you down? Maybe I could help.” Mia looked at him for a long moment and, almost in spite of herself she began to explain what had happened; how Gary and she had fought, what he had said to her, the fact that he had been cheating on her with a skinny stick of a woman (one of the text messages Mia had seen had included a less-than-tasteful nude picture of the other woman). She started crying again a little bit, but the man brushed her tears away, telling her firmly Gary was a loser—that if he was the sort of man who could cheat on a woman like her, he was no man at all. He kissed her on the cheek, holding her tightly in his arms until Mia began to calm down once more.
It was strange, the way that opening up to the stranger—the thing that Mia had intended to avoid like the plague—made her feel better. “I don’t even know your name and I cried all over you,” she said ruefully, smiling at him. The man laughed.
“I’m Caleb. Is your name as pretty as you are?” Mia felt herself blushing.
“My name is Mia—do you think that’s pretty enough?” Caleb grinned.
“It’ll do. I’ve got an idea, Mia. You said you were looking for some excitement to shake you out of your depression. Well I’ve got a bike; we could take a little ride around the city.” Mia would have balked; she thought briefly that she’d had enough excitement for the night. “I’ve got an extra helmet, and I’m a very safe rider. I swear I’ll just take you around the city and then straight home if that’s what you want.” After only a little more cajoling, she gave in, thinking that Caleb had demonstrated himself to be a generally decent guy—and that if worst came to worst, she could probably handle herself, if he decided to try and take advantage of her.
Mia climbed onto the bike behind Caleb, the spare helmet firmly on her head, her arms wrapped around his lean waist. She felt a thrill as he started the bike, the engine roaring, the machine coming to life between her legs. Her hips were firmly up against Caleb’s back, and Mia felt a tingle of sensuality at the vibration, the proximity to a man who thought she was beautiful, who wanted to take her on a thrill-ride through the city. She let out a delighted scream as Caleb roared away from the curb, the bike moving like a mechanical predator, rushing along the street and then creeping up to stop lights as they started their trek around the city. She had to hand it to Caleb; the bike ride was exhilarating, and in a matter of moments, she couldn’t imagine feeling depressed anymore.
Caleb brought the bike to a stop by the sidewalk along a strip of bars. “If you want to go home, I’ll take you home,” Caleb said, half-turning to look at Mia. “But if you’d like, we could go to a bar I like and have a drink together.” Mia was too thrilled, too high on the experience of being on a roaring, speeding bike to decline. She agreed to go in with him. The bike screamed down the road once more, and Mia held onto Caleb tightly, her heart racing and her whole body full of the excitement of the moment.
They arrived after a while at a small, run-down looking bar on the outskirts of the city, and Mia immediately saw a dozen or more bikes lined up outside. She told herself that it was reasonable that Caleb, a biker, would frequent a bar that was preferred by bikers, and told herself not to worry about it; that in spite of only knowing him for maybe an hour, Caleb was far from the type to bring her into a dangerous place. He led her into the building, and Mia’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the low lighting. “Do you like whiskey, or beer?” he asked her with a faint smile.
“If I can get a whiskey and ginger, I’ll have that,” Mia said hopefully. Caleb shot her a grin and guided her to the bar, which was dominated by bikers in various sizes and shapes—some of them large indeed, all of them in leathers and jeans. Mia fought down her sense of instinctive trepidation; she had never been in a biker bar before, though the glances directed at Caleb gave Mia the feeling that he was viewed with respect among the regulars there.
“Hey!” someone called from down the bar, staring drunkenly at Mia and Caleb. “Bikers are supposed to ride hogs, not date ‘em!” Mia blushed, feeling both angry and self-conscious at the insult. She felt Caleb bristle next to her, and he handed her the drink she wanted, stepping back from the bar.
“You got something to say to me?” he asked the other biker, tilting his head slightly in a challenging look.
“Yeah—get your pathetic pig woman out of here.” A few men stood with the insulting biker, and Mia felt a sudden stab of uncertainty and defensiveness. Caleb didn’t seem to be gripped by the same fear; he glanced at the four or five men as the rest of the bikers gave them space. Mia drank down half of her drink quickly, thinking that she would have to make an escape in a moment—there was no way that Caleb could stand up to five men, most of whom were bigger than him, though she was flattered that he was willing to take the chance.
“You need
to get your vision checked, asshole. The only pathetic pig I can see in here is your friend there, cowering behind you.” Mia reached out, wanting to tell Caleb that it was fine—she didn’t want any trouble. But in the next moment, the fight erupted—Caleb moved away from her, squaring off against the five men with no sign of concern. Mia glanced at the bartender, who was watching, not making any move to call the police or do anything to break the fight up.
She wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen it for herself; even seeing it, she doubted it for the next several hours. Caleb launched himself at the five men, knocking the first one out with a quick punch to the face, lifting another as easily as he had lifted her and throwing him into another one of the gang, sending them both careening into the wall. The leader picked up a beer bottle and broke it against the bar, wielding the sharp neck like a knife, while his second tried to distract Caleb, grabbing for him. Caleb dislodged his attacker and threw him across the room—Mia was shocked at the display of strength, thinking briefly as the fight unfolded that it shouldn’t be possible for anyone to throw someone that big around like that. Caleb danced away from the leader’s stabbing jabs, grabbing his wrist and twisting it until the bigger man dropped the broken bottle. He gave him a sharp, quick kick to the knee, sending the man tumbling to the floor, grabbing for both his wrist and his injured knee at the same time.
One of his gang had recovered sufficiently to launch himself at Caleb again; Mia shouted a warning, and Caleb turned on his heel, grabbing the man by the shoulder and punching him hard in the stomach. He grabbed for another empty bottle and brought it down over the man’s head, knocking him out. It was like a scene from an action movie, Mia thought as the gang stumbled and struggled back onto their feet. Only, she thought—it wasn’t a choreographed fight, it was a real one. The entire bar was silent, staring to see if it would continue, Mia among them. She couldn’t quite believe how quickly Caleb had taken care of the five men, who gathered together, two of them lifting their injured leader up. “You want to keep this up? Because it looks to me like it’s time for you guys to head home.” The leader looked up at him balefully, but even Mia could see that all his fight had left him. The group slunk out of the bar, muttering and grumbling amongst themselves.
Half-Blooded: The Alpha's Mate (BBW Shifter Romance) Page 1