Happily Ever Alpha Page 3

  Kellan folded his arms and watched, intrigued, as she glared him. Her dark eyes sparked with fury, and her creamy skin was flushed with passion. He wondered what it might be like to invoke a different kind of passion in her—one that involved using his lips and his hands, rather than words. He tried to tell himself that getting so close to her, so intimate was a way to throw her off balance so that she would have a harder time marshaling her defenses, but he knew it wasn’t really true. She beckoned him like a flower did a bee—and he knew she would be much sweeter than any blossom.

  However, now wasn’t the time to be thinking about that. He needed to focus on what she was saying. His nose told him that she wasn’t lying, but he knew she wasn’t telling him everything, either.

  “That doesn’t explain why you looked at me as if you know me.”

  The woman sucked in her breath and averted her eyes. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Laughing, he sat down again. “Of course you do. The pulse in your throat just accelerated, and your pupils’ dilated. It’s pointless to lie to me, woman.”

  “Clara,” she spat, wishing she could get out of these restraints. Being forced onto her back made her feel incredibly vulnerable—even sitting he still towered over her this way, and put her at a very physical disadvantage. “My name is Clara.”

  “Clara.” He said her name softly as he traced a path down her cheek, and her stomach quivered. Angry with both herself for reacting this way and with him for touching her, she jerked her head sharply and bit down on his finger.

  “Hey!” His eyes flashed yellow, and fear trembled through her—she hadn’t imagined it. He snatched his hand back and the expression on his face was so livid she worried that he might strike her. Squeezing her eyes shut, she turned her face away and mentally and physically braced herself for the blow.

  She was surprised when he only let out a gusty sigh. “Don’t be daft, woman. I’m not going to hit you. I likely would have done the same thing in your place. And honestly I should have expected it from the way you smell.” He laughed a little.

  Frowning, she opened her eyes to see him watching her with a half-amused, half-irritated expression. “What on earth does that mean?”

  His yellow eyes gleamed with that hunger again. “I can’t get your scent out of my head.”

  She stared at him. “Let me go, you beast.”

  He laughed again, but this time the sound had an edge to it that raised the hairs on the back of her neck. “Beast? You don’t know how right you are. Why do you think we live in such secrecy? If we had the choice, we would live in the open fields just like your people. But shifters have never been welcome amongst humans.”

  “Shifters?” Clara asked, and then screamed. One moment he was there, the next gone, and in his place was a very large wolf. Eyes wide, she tried to scramble away, but the restraints held her firm against the bed, and she cursed. She was not going to die. She was not going to die!

  The wolf inched his muzzle forward and she froze, then shrieked as he licked her bare feet. Oh God, what was going to happen to her? Was she hallucinating? Had her grief finally caught up with her and turned her mad?

  The wolf locked eyes with her then, and Clara stilled—they were the exact same yellow as that man’s had been when his eyes had flashed. Something in her relaxed as it clicked into place, as the part of her mind that stored her irrational fears quieted and her instincts spoke to her.

  “A shifter, you said?” she murmured, then shook her head disbelievingly as he actually nodded.

  In another blink of the eye he was a man again, sitting at the foot of her bed. His eyes gleamed yellow for a moment, and then faded back to green. “You took that much better than I expected you to.”

  “I don’t feel the fear that I should,” she admitted. “But the dreams I’ve been having…it’s like I’ve been here before—with you.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Dreams?”

  “I… there was a man who looked just like you in one of my dreams.” She swallowed hard, remembering the bone-chilling fear as he’d rounded the corner, pinned her with that yellow gaze. “As I looked at him, his face changed into a wolf. I was convinced he was going to kill me, but before I could find out, I woke up.”

  He sat there in silence for so long she could hear her heart pounding in her ears. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” she demanded. “Who are you?”

  “Kellan.” He said it so softly she almost didn’t hear. “And so you just happened to stumble upon our location, right after having a dream about me?” His brows drew together, and his eyes darkened.

  “I… no,” she admitted. “I had another dream, last night.” She told him about the wolves and humans battling in her house. “And then I woke up and heard those terrible wolf cries, and I couldn’t go back to sleep. When I went out for a walk today, I felt I had to come into the woods. I couldn’t tell you why exactly. It’s almost as if something forced me here.”

  “I see.” He scooped his hands through his hair, and she wondered briefly if he was going to yank it from his head—he certainly looked of a mind to try it. “This was not what I needed.” He jumped up from the bed and strode to the door.

  “Wait!” Clara called, “Where are you---”

  He wrenched open the door and then slammed it shut behind him as he left.

  “Going,” she finished breathlessly. She didn’t know what he was so angry about. After all, she was the one tied up and being held against her will! As the seconds began to stretch in silence, fear crept up on her again as she wondered exactly what he was going to do with her. Remarkably, she’d not been nearly as afraid of him as she ought to have been during their conversation, but now that he was gone her mind ran wild with possibilities of all the awful things he might do.

  Part of it, she thought as she tried to distract herself, were his incredibly good looks and his deep, rippling laughter. Certainly there was a sense of menace around him, almost like an invisible warning sign that had been hung around his neck—but he cloaked it with a certain amount of charm that made it so that she felt drawn to him easily…too easily. He made no bones about his intentions—which, at the time, were to get information from her—and certainly didn’t give a fig about her personal space, but there was something so familiar about him that it didn’t feel nearly as invasive as it should have.

  But no amount of charm and good looks could distract her from the fact that she’d apparently stumbled upon a secret society of wolf shifters, and that they didn’t at all seem predisposed towards strangers or visitors.

  The door opened, and Kellan strode in, his expression grim. Clara’s breath stuttered as he leaned over her, but he did not touch her except to remove the restraints binding her to the bed. As soon as she was free she jumped to her feet, ready to bolt, but he moved his large frame in front of her, reading her perfectly.

  “Come with me,” he ordered, gripping her left wrist.

  “Where are we going? What are you going to do to me?” she asked, a note of hysteria in her voice, but he didn’t answer her—just pulled her through the door and outside. He led her through what she realized was a village of sorts— a cluster of cabins that looked mostly to be houses, but some seemed to have more industrial purposes. Men, women, and even children came out of their homes to stare at her, some with curiosity, others with suspicion, and yet others with downright hostility. A little boy stepped forward with wide blue eyes before being tucked protectively behind his mother’s skirt. Were all these people really shifters? Even that innocent little child?

  Eventually they arrived at a small clearing that seemed to be at the heart of the village, where a group of men were gathered around a small platform. It looked to be their version of a town square. Kellan dragged her forward, stopping in front of an older man dressed in a black tunic, which she assumed must have some significance as all the other townsfolk—shifters, she reminded herself—all wore brown. Despite his grizzled hair and weathered face, his b
lue eyes gleamed with sharp intelligence as they settled on her.

  Instinctively, she lowered her head, feeling almost as though she should curtsy, but not quite willing to afford the courtesy to a group of people who seemed intent on holding her prisoner in their secret place. She looked up at the old man from beneath her brows to see him nod his approval before turning to Kellan.

  “It seems you are right, Kellan. She is already responding to pack hierarchy, and I can see the threads of the bond beginning to form between you two.”

  Kellan sighed heavily. “I was hoping you weren’t going to say that.”

  Clara straightened. “Bond? Pack hierarchy? What are you all talking about?”

  Kellan tugged on her arm roughly. “It is disrespectful to speak to the Alpha in such a manner.”

  Clara snatched her arm away. “I’ve no idea what that means, but I owe no allegiance to him, nor any member of this group.”

  “It’s alright, Kellan,” the old man said before Kellan could respond. He turned toward Clara, his face impassive. “My name is Charles, and I am the leader of this group. We are a shifter clan, and our hierarchy is similar in nature to a wolf pack. I am the Alpha, the lead male wolf in a pack. The three men behind me, my advisors—” he gestured toward them, “—are my Beta, Gamma, and Delta.”

  “I see.” Clara took a moment to digest this—she didn’t know very much about wolves. “And this… bond, you speak of?”

  Kellan spoke up before Charles had a chance. “As it is with all creatures, every wolf has a mate. With shifters, we do not necessarily get to choose our mates in accordance with our hearts, but rather our bodies choose the one who is most biologically suited, who will bear the strongest and most gifted children.” His eyes came up to pierce hers, and Clara took a step back.

  “You… you aren’t saying…”

  “He is,” Charles interjected. “And after hearing your story from him, and feeling the bond being woven between the two of you, I can’t deny it any more than he can. You are destined to be Kellan’s mate.”

  “What? No. No!” Clara repeated louder, taking another step back. “This isn’t right. It’s not possible!”

  “I’m not warming to the idea of being mated to a human any more than you are,” Kellan growled, “but I don’t believe in running from the truth either. Especially about this. Why else would you have dreams about me, Clara? Why else do you think you would be drawn to this place, when no other human has been able to find it in centuries?”

  “Perhaps I have prophetic dreams,” she sputtered, pulling out the first explanation that popped into her mind. “And as for finding this place, maybe I just got really lucky. I’m very good with mazes,” she lied before remembering that he could tell when she wasn’t speaking the truth.

  “Clara.” Kellan said it softly.

  “No.” She took another step back. “This isn’t real. This can’t be real. I refuse to believe it.” She turned and ran.

  “Stop her!” one of the advisors shouted, but the Alpha held up a hand before anyone could move.

  “Let her go.”

  “What?” One of the advisors scowled. “We can’t let her leave. How do we know she can be trusted? For all we know she is in league with those hunters, and will lead them back to us the first opportunity she gets!”

  “You saw her reaction,” Kellan said bitterly. “She didn’t know anything about us before, and I know that she wasn’t lying about anything she said. I doubt she’ll even admit to anyone she was even in the forest, much less what she found. She’s in denial about her fate. And can you blame her?”

  “It’s alright, Kellan.” The Alpha laid a hand on his shoulder. “If the two of you are fated to be mates, she won’t be able to resist the call. Now that you two have met face-to-face, it will only strengthen.”

  “I can’t help but think I’ve seen her face somewhere before,” Charles’ Beta said, frowning. His eyes widened after a moment. “Do you think she—”

  “She is. But I thought it be best not to burden her with that information so soon, especially after her reaction. When the time is right, she will know. And then she will have to decide what she wants to do about it.”

  Chapter Four

  “Clara! Where have you been?”

  Clara brushed her straggling locks from her hair and took a breath to steady her heart. She hadn’t stopped running until she’d reached the edge of the forest and had burst out into the fields, safe and sound. And when she saw that the sun was beginning to set, she forced herself to run across the field and back to the cottage, hoping against hope that her aunt was still asleep.

  Unfortunately, Clara wasn’t born with that kind of luck. Eve had been putting on her bonnet and boots, apparently on her way out the door to go and bring her home. Clara was glad that she’d arrived when she did—if her aunt had arrived to find out that she wasn’t at the Rivers farm she would have been worried sick.

  “I’m sorry, Aunt Eve,” she said when she was certain she could talk without gasping. Still, she sounded slightly breathless. “I got lost in the woods.”

  “The woods?” Her aunt narrowed her eyes as she set her bonnet back on its hook. “Whatever were you doing in the woods? I thought you were going to see Lucas and his family!”

  “I was,” Clara insisted, “but for some reason I decided I wanted to be alone. I thought the woods would be a nice place to get some time to myself, and I hadn’t a chance to explore them before. That’s likely why I got so turned around.” She laughed ruefully, hoping that she sounded more convincing that she felt.

  “I see.” Her aunt stared at her a long moment. “Are you okay? You look so pale.”

  “Yes… I’m fine.” Clara frowned.

  Eve shook her head. “Well, you’re back now and that’s all that matters.” She smiled slightly, but the look in her eyes made Clara wonder whether her aunt knew something she wasn’t letting on. “Still, I would prefer if you didn’t venture in the woods, Clara. It can be very dangerous.”

  “Oh, I definitely don’t plan on going back,” Clara said fervently. “At least not by myself,” she amended hastily as her aunt gave her another suspicious look.

  “Alright then. Let’s get started with the evening chores. If we hurry we can get everything done before the sun sets.”

  Clara debated whether or not she should press her aunt—it really did seem as if she knew something—but that would be admitting that she held an interest in what went on beneath those trees. And she didn’t. Not anymore. Her curiosity had been piqued by that howling, but now that she’d met the shifters and been told that outlandish story about mating, she had no desire to ever go back there again. She was a normal woman, and that sounded far too much like the stuff faery tales were made of.

  And everyone knew that faery tales were often dark, and did not always have happy endings.

  * * *

  The days passed on as normal. Clara busied herself with farm chores, and entertained herself during her daily visits with Lucas’s family. Amelia seemed to be genuinely warming to her, and Jamie was such fun to be around. Clara was an only child and did not have much experience with youngsters, but the boy was easy to please and not very demanding.

  As for Lucas’s older brothers, they were constantly teasing him about his ‘new girlfriend’, making jokes and telling her all kinds of tales.

  “You know I remember the time he woke up to find a farm rat sitting next to him on his pillow,” Tyler, the eldest, said one day. “It was the middle of the night, and I don’t think anyone got a wink of sleep after that.”

  “Refused to go back to bed until we set a dozen traps,” Byron, the second oldest, chortled. “Came running down the hall to our parents’ room like the fires of hell were chasing him.”

  “Not true,” Lucas said, laughing, but his cheeks were scarlet.

  “Yes, it is!” Tom, the youngest, piped up. “I ought to remember since you and I shared the same room. I don’t think I’d ever seen you run so
fast before.”

  Clara was unable to keep from laughing as Lucas cuffed Tom over the head.

  Lucas grinned at her. “I think it’s time to go,” he said, taking her by the hand. “Before they convince you that I’m afraid of my own shadow.”

  Clara really wanted to fall in love with Lucas. He was such an incredibly good man, and she knew that a marriage to him would provide her with a sense of financial security and a stable family she could one day call her own. He also seemed to care for her, and she knew from the looks he sometimes cast her way when she thought he wasn’t looking that he wanted her as his own.

  But try as she might to forget Kellan, she found herself dreaming more and more about the shifter in the forest. At first it was the nightmares, where her house was being ransacked and burned, and he would come around the corner in place of the man that would always try to murder her right before she woke up. But instead of simply grinning at her, he would take her by the hand, and she would feel a sense of security envelope her instead of the fear she knew she should.

  “Come,” he would say, pulling her along, and he would lead her to safety, avoiding falling debris and passing rebels when he could, and striking them down when he couldn’t. But when they stepped out into the fresh air, it was always into the woods, and not the manicured grounds that belonged to her father’s estate. They would be inside the maze, standing at the heart of it, but the walls would look different, and Clara would be unable to find her way out.

  “Help me,” she would say to Kellan, “you must know the way out. Why won’t you help me find the way out?”

  He would shake his head at her. “You must decide your own fate and find your own way. Whether or not you will choose me, or whatever it is that is waiting for you outside these trees. Despite your fear, you already know somewhere inside you that I will not let harm come to you, that I will protect you. The call will lead you back to me when you are ready to follow it.”