Fate, Love & Loyalty: (A Havenwood Falls Novella)

by E. J. Fechenda

  Patrick groaned, but raised his head to meet her gaze with glowing eyes, his irises darker slits, echoing her struggle for control as his cat called to hers. “Trust me, Aster needs her space, and honestly, I don’t think I can stop. We will get to know each other—we have our entire lives to learn everything there is to know and so much more.”

  He kissed her again, and Reeve allowed her cat closer to the surface. She shifted enough to allow her hands to transform into paws tipped with sharp claws, and she shredded Patrick’s shirt. He growled with approval, his eyes flashing golden again right before he sliced her shirt open with an equally sharp set of claws. Soon their shredded clothes lay in a pile on the floor, and they stood naked before each other without any shyness.

  Reeve admired her mate, running a hand down his muscular chest and stomach. He had a few scars on his side—faint claw marks that had faded to white—which she guessed were from an old injury. Leaning forward, she gently licked the scars, then placed a soft kiss on his skin. His scent filled her nose, and her whole body pulsed with a powerful wave of arousal. She gasped and stood up straight, almost dizzy with need. Patrick looked her over appreciatively, and her skin flushed under his gaze. His nostrils flared, and his eyes glowed amber right before he spun Reeve around so she faced the wall.

  “I don’t have the patience to be gentle or slow, but I promise the next time . . .” He ran his nose along her neck and cupped her breasts from behind. She arched her back and pressed into his hands. With every touch, she felt her hold on reality slipping, her conscience suppressed by the call to mate. Every nerve in her body hummed with promise and came alive with each caress.

  She whimpered as she stopped resisting. “Take me. I’m yours.”

  The moment he entered her, Reeve knew there would never be another man for her. Their souls merged, and she felt his need as acutely as her own. His hard, muscular body pressed her against the wall, and she pushed back against him, causing him to drive deeper.

  “Oh my God,” Reeve cried out, and her knees threatened to go soft.

  Patrick brushed her hair aside and bit down on her neck. This time his teeth pierced her skin, completing his claim on her. An overwhelming sense of peace and pleasure consumed her as she felt her blood surging into his mouth. With a final thrust and grunt, Patrick stilled and rode out her orgasm while licking the bite mark clean. They stayed pressed against each other, their pulses pounding, for a few moments, catching their breaths. Reeve slowly turned around to face her mate. His hair stuck out in all directions, and his cheeks were flushed from exertion. Reeve wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on her tiptoes, pulling him to her for a kiss. Now that the initial itch had been scratched, the urgency had waned, but after a few strokes of her tongue, Patrick was ready again.

  This time they faced each other. She raised a leg and hooked it over his hip, and he slid inside. They moved in sync, creating a rhythm that quickly rose to a crescendo. Patrick lifted her up, so she wrapped her legs around him. From this angle, she was at the right height to stake her claim. She licked the spot on his neck first, and the vein pulsed underneath her tongue. Her canines dropped, and she struck, drawing his blood into her mouth. The iron-rich warmth bubbled up, and she drank deeply until Patrick released with a muffled groan. Then she retracted her teeth and licked the wound. She was his, and he was hers. The mating bond was officially complete, and there was no going back.

  After they collapsed in Patrick’s bed, sated and drowsy, the guilt set in.

  “I don’t regret finding you, my mate,” Patrick said as they lay in his dark bedroom. “But I just hate that Aster is hurt. I do care for her, but now, you’re all I can see.”

  “I know. I tried to resist, but the mating call . . . I’ve never experienced anything so powerful before. Poor Aster.” Reeve sighed and rolled over onto her side to face Patrick. He moved so she could settle against him with his arm tucked in behind her, holding her close. “It’s not like I planned this. Trust me, I have enough complications in my life, and I just added another reason for my sister to hate me forever.”

  Chapter 3

  Aster stayed in her cat form all weekend and lost herself in the woods. At first, she ran to the waterfalls, but because it was June and a gorgeous, sunny day, there were too many people around, so she went high up into the mountains. She almost reached the peak, and at 13,000 feet elevation, a significant snow pack from the harsh winter remained on the ground, which meant fewer people. Aster made sure to stay within the 25-mile radius of town, the boundary for the memory ward, one of the protective measures put into place to protect Havenwood Falls’ secrets.

  Here she roamed along jagged rocks, and when she paused to rest, she stared down at her hometown nestled in the box canyon. Lights twinkled like stars below, and from above, Havenwood Falls appeared even smaller, almost fake, like a diorama. Aster found her escape in the mountains, away from the sometimes suffocating routine of small-town life. Patrick had provided a break from the mundane. He had been new and different and exciting. Before she could dwell on her loss, Aster caught the scent of a deer on the wind.

  Going back to nature and giving in to her animal instincts helped to take her mind off of Reeve and Patrick’s betrayal, but it didn’t take the hurt away. She returned to her apartment early Monday morning. The sky was still dark, but the chorus of birds that silenced as she slinked through the town’s quiet streets let her know dawn was coming. She had followed Mathews River that ran south of Havenwood Falls. Once she passed the ski resort, she cut up Ninth Street, which led right to the shops on Main Street. She stuck to the shadows, where the illumination of street lamps didn’t reach, and she ducked behind parked cars or bushes whenever her acute hearing detected somebody nearby.

  When she reached the privacy of the alley between Coffee Haven and Callie’s Consignments, only then did she shift. Focusing on her human form, she willed her cat to let go and shifted back. She had to stay crouched down until her body adjusted to the transformation. The longer she spent in her cat form, the harder it was to transition. Her animal nature wanted to dominate, and the euphoria from hunting lingered. She shook it off and slowly stood up, adjusting to being bipedal before hurrying up the stairs.

  Since she was naked and left her keys inside Coffee Haven, she bent down and lifted up the doormat to retrieve her spare, but it wasn’t there. Sniffing the air and doorknob, she figured out who last had entered her apartment, and the visitor was still inside.

  Aster opened the door and stepped into the kitchen. Her apartment was dark, but her enhanced vision enabled her to see everything clearly. Her bedroom was just past the kitchen to the left of the hallway, so she stopped there first to put on the pajama pants and camisole top that were still draped on the foot of her bed.

  Anne McCabe sat on the futon in the living room, waiting for her. Wordlessly, Aster crossed the room and sunk down next to her mom. She grabbed a throw pillow and hugged it to her chest.

  “Willow told me what happened,” Anne said. “I’m so sorry, sweetie.”

  Aster curled her legs up and leaned into the comforting warmth of her mother. Her familiar scent, a combination of sweet honeysuckle and jasmine, helped soothe the ache of Aster’s wounded heart. She let out a sob that was quickly followed by another. Soon a full-on crying jag consumed her. Her mom held her close and combed her fingers through Aster’s tangled curls while she poured out her bottled-up emotions.

  “The hurt will fade, sweetie. Don’t be angry at your sister or Patrick. They’re powerless against the bond. You know that is something that can’t be controlled.” Aster sniffed and nodded, hating to acknowledge that her mom spoke the truth. “Someday you’ll find your true mate and experience how powerful the connection is, then you’ll truly understand.”

  “I’ll never find my mate in Havenwood Falls, or I would have already.”

  “Hush. You can’t know that. Who’s to say your mate won’t find his way to you?”

  This made Aster remembe
r the tales she’d heard growing up, about how mates were pulled toward each other. That didn’t explain Patrick’s appearance, though, since Reeve didn’t live in Havenwood Falls, and she said so to her mom.

  “Patrick showed up in January, right?” her mom asked, and Aster confirmed. “Not too long after Reeve left after being home for the holidays. Maybe he was close and felt the pull. It’s possible Patrick felt drawn to you since you have similar DNA—a close match, but not a true match. It’s happened before.”

  “Really?” Aster sat up, wiping her tearstained cheeks, and twisted to face her mom.

  “You haven’t heard about Great Aunt Cordelia?”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Great Aunt Cordelia, who you remind me a lot of, had been out for a run up on Pike’s Peak when she came across another mountain lion shifter, but he was a stranger. Apparently they had quite the romp in the woods, and he followed Cordelia back to Havenwood Falls. There was a great bonfire party that night by the waterfalls—what we now call the Carnival at the Falls—and practically the whole town was there when Cordelia showed up with her date. Unfortunately, the moment she introduced him to her twin sister, Great Aunt Courtney, well, that’s when the true mate bond took hold. Not even a year later, Cordelia was working as a waitress at the Fallview Tavern when a shifter who was on vacation was seated in her section. The handsome stranger turned out to be her true mate.”

  “Uncle Paul?”

  “Yup, and if you ask him, he’ll tell you he had never heard of Havenwood Falls before, but the bus he was taking to California from Missouri drove through Grand Junction, and he felt the call of his mate tugging at him from over a hundred miles away, like he had a rope tied around his waist. He ordered the bus driver to let him off and followed his instinct right to the tavern.”

  “Wow! I had no idea.”

  “The pull can be very strong. So don’t give up hope. Aunt Cordelia didn’t talk to her sister for weeks after, and the sting of humiliation lasted longer. It’s not just the McCabes who are stubborn,” she said with a wink, referring to her mom’s side of the family, the Fitzpatricks. “But Cordelia eventually got over it.”

  Learning about her great aunt’s history did provide a spark of hope. All Aster wanted was a close relationship with her sister, and maybe someday it would be possible.

  “Thanks for being here, Mom.” Aster leaned over and kissed her mom’s cheek.

  “No problem, sweetie. Now you’re probably ready to crash. Go get some rest.”

  At the mention of sleep, Aster yawned and felt the fatigue from her weekend exertions bearing down on her. Her tired eyes were even scratchier since her crying fit. She walked her mom to the door, and after a hug goodbye, she climbed into bed and immediately fell asleep.

  Aster woke a little bit before noon, but not until she showered, brushed her teeth and drank two glasses of water did she start to feel human again. She checked her phone and saw the text from Willow telling her to take the day off. There was a text from her brother as well as some friends, all of them expressing concern for her. Gossip spread fast in Havenwood Falls. She ate a bowl of cereal while checking her email to see if Reeve or Patrick had tried reaching out that way, but they hadn’t, and this made her lose her appetite. Do they not care about me at all that they don’t have the decency to check on me after three days? She dumped the soggy remains of her cereal in the trash and set her bowl in the sink.

  Only an hour had passed since she had showered, and boredom was quickly setting in. Aster walked back into her bedroom to grab a book when she noticed the bag she had packed for the weekend getaway sitting on the floor by the door. Seeing it triggered a powerful wave of anger and sadness, and she kicked it, sending it skidding across the hardwood floor. Knowing she needed a distraction, she went downstairs to throw herself into work.

  There were a few people sitting at tables. She said hello to Harlow, a friend and witch who was a member of the Luna Coven. She waved at Caleb, a bear shifter who had just graduated high school. He sat with Nikki and Serena, friends of Willow’s cousin, Paisley. The teen girls were twirling their hair and sitting to display their assets. Aster recognized the flirting techniques, and Caleb’s rapt expression indicated he wasn’t immune to their charms. The poor boy was outnumbered and didn’t stand a chance. A couple of dragon shifters sat in the corner with iced coffees dripping condensation on the table. She located Willow behind the counter, taking inventory of baked goods. A few months ago she would have done this task while standing, but now she sat on a stool.

  She paused to read a poster taped to the front of the counter by the register that Willow must have put up over the weekend. The poster advertised a book drive fundraiser to help rebuild the library that had burned down.

  “Can I help? I can make more blueberry scones,” Aster offered, since they were sold out.

  Willow looked up at her with a scowl. “Yeah, you can help by taking the day off and getting your head together. I could sense your emo angst from across the room.”

  “Emo angst?” Aster replied with a laugh. “I think only guys can be emo.”

  “Well, whatever. Just go away. Take advantage, because once this baby comes you’ll be working more.”

  Aster leaned against the counter and crossed her arms, taking in Willow’s appearance. Her fair skin was flushed, and her brows were furrowed together, creating a crease in an otherwise flawless face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Willow exhaled, blowing a few wisps of fine blonde hair out of the way. She sat up and rubbed her belly. “I sense danger coming. It’s been getting stronger all weekend.” Willow looked up at Aster. “I already called Sheriff Kasun to let him know to expect some trouble.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Yeah, off the charts. I haven’t sensed this much since the vampire massacre of ’05.”

  Aster’s eyebrows rose at the significance of the reference. She was only ten years old when Viktor Azimov, the head of the local Gothic vampires, went mad after drinking the blood of a heroin addict. Willow was in high school at the time and coming into her empathic abilities when she sensed the change in Viktor the moment he drank the tainted blood. Willow had told Aster that she didn’t know what to do with the emotions she was receiving, and she didn’t know who was emitting them, so all she could do was ride out the storm. Viktor decapitated a half dozen of his vampires before he was subdued. Later he was decapitated too, when he was sentenced to meet his true death as punishment for his crimes. Aster shivered at the idea of being at the mercy of the Court.

  “Do you know who it is?”

  “No, the signature is unfamiliar to me, so it’s not someone from Havenwood Falls. Just be on the lookout. I sense the danger is near.”

  “Okay,” Aster promised.

  Since Willow refused to let her work, Aster made herself a double espresso macchiato with extra whipped cream, because she deserved it. As she unwrapped a straw, she heard the bell chime and flinched at the memory of Reeve walking through the door right before she stole Patrick. She kept her head down, angrily stabbing her straw through the hole in the plastic lid, refusing to look until she heard Willow gasp. She glanced over at her boss to find her pale as a ghost and staring at the front door. Aster followed her gaze to find a giant of a man standing in the doorway.

  He stood so tall, he had to duck to step inside. The man was dressed all in black: his jeans and T-shirt—even his hair was black. He tilted his head and sniffed the air before his dark eyes zeroed in on Aster and pinned her to the spot. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as he strode toward her, his leather boots thudding on the wooden floor, which vibrated under his weight. As he approached, she noticed his eyes flash amber briefly before returning to their normal brown. Both arms were covered in sleeve tattoos that ended at his wrists, drawing her attention to his hands clenched into fists and partially covered in tawny fur. He was on the verge of shifting, and that wouldn’t be good for any human patrons to witness.


  “Aster, danger,” Willow whispered low enough for her hypersensitive hearing to pick up, and she prayed the man in black didn’t hear it, too.

  “Where is she?” the man growled when he came to a stop in front of Aster, forcing her to take a step backward, where her ass bumped into the counter.

  “Where is who?” she asked, standing up straighter, refusing to be intimidated by the Neanderthal.

  “Reeve. Where is she?”

  “Who wants to know?” Aster cocked a hip, flipped her red hair over her shoulder, and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “My name is Damian Stone, alpha of the Denver den, and Reeve is my mate.” He leaned in closer, as if trying to make Aster bend over backwards, and she saw his canine teeth had grown into fangs. They bit into his bottom lip, drawing blood.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” She barked out a laugh, more like a maniacal cackle, as the anger toward her sister returned in full force. This was so typical. Reeve had left an alpha behind and was now shacked up with Patrick. Well, Reeve made the mess, so Reeve would have to clean it up. She ignored Willow’s warning and said, “You can find her at Havenwood Village, Unit C. Two blocks that way.” She pointed to the left, down Main Street.

  Damian smirked and looked Aster up and down. “You’re feisty. I like that. I might be back to add you to my collection. It won’t be the first time I’ve had sisters.” With that, he turned and stormed out of the coffee shop.

  “Aster, what have you done?” Willow hissed. “That man is the big bad I’ve been sensing! He’s emitting more crazy than a serial killer.”

  Aster’s temper died out as quickly as it had flared, extinguished by Willow’s statement. “I’m sorry!” She took a step to leave, to follow the man and stop him, when she was frozen in place.

  “Don’t even think about it, you stubborn ass,” Harlow said as she approached with her hands raised like she was getting ready to catch a basketball. In between her palms, energy shimmered, clear yet tangible, like the surface of a lake. “You’ll wind up getting hurt, too.” Aster attempted to move again, but her friend’s spell held strong.