by Casey Morgan
It’s crazy thinking about it. I wish I could get into Anson’s head and figure out what is going on with him because I cannot quite put my finger on it.
“I hadn’t realized how deep in the hole the alpha had gotten,” Pax says. “Anson has always been hard to convince of anything, but he’s never been this unreasonable. I think at this point, we can’t keep trying to get him on our side. We’re way past that at this point.”
We all nod. I’ve never not trusted Anson before, but I can tell he’s leading us down a path of destruction.
“What should we do? What can we do?” Kenzie asks. “If we go back to the pack, they’re just going to throw us back out, or worse, lock us all up. I mean, we might have some support in the pack, but none of them are quite ready to stand up to their alpha. Right now, it’s just us.” Kenzie is making a lot of good points, as she always does.
“Maybe we should go talk to Beau,” I suggest.
“Beau?” Pax looks at me incredulously. “Why would we talk to him?”
“Yeah, isn’t he the alpha who’s been terrorizing you guys?” Mini asks.
“Yes, he’s been attacking our pack, but what if he’s in the dark about Flint’s true intentions as well. I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t know he was some kind of demon.”
Everyone in the room gets thoughtful. They all seem to be really taking the time to consider what I’ve just said. It makes sense that Flint wouldn’t tell Beau about his demon form. That type of stuff would scare away even the steeliest of men.
“That could work,” Pax nods. “If they don’t know about Flint, then they might be willing to help us get rid of him. Because who’s to say that he wouldn’t turn on them if it was more convenient.”
“It’s really our only plan, I guess,” Kenzie shrugs. “Let’s do it.”
We all agree it’s all we’ve got to save our family.
Pax and Mini leave our room, going back to theirs.
Kenzie and I had been sitting on the bed with some space between us, but now that we’re alone, I pull her towards me. She relaxes into my arms, easily resting her head on my body.
“It’s a good plan,” Kenzie tells me, her fingers playing with my shirt. “I’m sure it’s going to work.”
“Yeah, I’m not really worried about that. I mean, I am, but there’s nothing we can do about it tonight.”
I’m not saying what I want to be saying. What I need to do is let Kenzie know all of my feelings. I feel like a lot of our problems boil down to miscommunication, and I don’t want that to be the reason our entire relationship implodes.
“So, what I am trying to say is that I was really worried about you when you disappeared. I started thinking of the absolute worst things. I’m not sure what I would have done if anything had happened to you.”
“Really? I thought you wouldn’t have even noticed I was gone. I wanted to apologize for all those nasty things I said to you. It’s all I could think about in the cave. How my last words to you were possibly going to be full of anger.”
“Oh, Kenzie.” I lift up her chin, so she’s looking directly into my eyes. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I’m sorry for never noticing you before. You have nothing to apologize for. I’m the dumb idiot who was too blinded by duty.”
“I guess we both made some mistakes. But we’re together now, and we’re not going to waste any more time.”
I smile because I am thinking about the same thing. “Exactly. Which is why I wanted to ask you something.”
“What is it?”
“I’m hoping that you would want to be my mate. I know this has all happened rather quickly, but it feels right, you know?”
“I do. And I want to be your mate. I want to be by your side. I love you.”
I don’t know why I’m so surprised to hear those three words come from Kenzie. I just asked her to connect herself to me forever. Of course, I’d think that she loves me. But her actually saying it has me feeling like the king of the world. I realize that there aren’t very many people who express their love for me. I’m not sure if any has told me they love me since my parents died.
“I love you, too,” I say it back.
I lean my head down and place a soft kiss on her lips. Her hand caresses my cheek, her pinky finger gently going over my jawline. Her other hand goes down to my shirt, and she lifts it up. Our kiss breaks as she pulls it over my head. Her hands go down my chest, coming back up and resting on my shoulders.
Kenzie’s lips go to my neck, her teeth biting down softly on my skin. I pull at the hem of her shirt next, getting it over her head and then unclasping her bra. She sits up straight, so the garment falls off her arms and on to the bed.
We make quick work of getting the rest of our clothes off, and soon, she is on my lap, straddling me. Our kisses have gone from soft and gentle to passionate and frenzied. Our hands are moving all over one another’s bodies, grabbing whatever we can grab.
I hold on to Kenzie’s hips, lifting them up just enough, so I can slide her down on my hard cock. Her body jolts as my entire shaft enters her wet and quivering pussy. The skin on the back of my shoulder is practically pierced by her nails, her muscles taut. Our bodies move together, her pink walls massaging every inch of my dick.
We’ve found our rhythm, so I move my hands up her back, wrapping my arms around her as I feel her body start to quake. Her hips grind down on me more ferociously. All of my sensations go down to my center, and I feel my balls grow heavy before I spill into Kenzie, my cum dripping down her thighs. She’s not too far behind me, her grip tightening on my body before she relaxes against my chest.
We take a few moments to catch our breath, her breast pressed into my front. I pull my head back so I can look into her ice-blue eyes. The sweat on her forehead has caused loose tendrils of blonde hair to stick to her skin. I push the hair aside, so I can get an unobstructed view of her eyes.
“Thank you.”
“For what?” Kenzie searches my eyes for an answer.
“For pushing me to do better. For not letting me rot away in my room even though I would yell at you every time you walked in. For making me realize that there is way more to life than just following orders. That there’s nobility in being a good person. And, honestly, thank you for loving me. I know I’m hard to deal with.”
“Oh, I do not know. Maybe like a little bit,” Kenzie jokes. “But I know I’m also hard to deal with, so thanks for putting up with my headstrong ways. We’re both stubborn folk, but we manage to make it work somehow.” She pushes the hair out of my eyes and holds my cheek. “And we’re going to save our family. Together. I promise.”
“I know. There’s no one I’d rather do this with.”
“Me too.” Kenzie rests her head on my shoulder, bringing me into a hug.
I know with her by my side, I’ll be able to do whatever is necessary to keep my pack from being forever torn apart.
A new day dawns for me.
A new day dawns for us.
THE END
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Here’s a preview of Alpha Ever After
Here is a sneak peek of my STEAMY PNR shifter and fantasy romance collection, Alpha Ever After, book four in the Hot Shifters series. This collection contains The Spell of Six: Luck's Hollow Urban Fantasy Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance, Alpha's Valentine's Day Virgin: A Wolf Shifter Paranormal Romance, Purchased By The Pack: Paranormal Reverse Harem Romance, Ghost Trial: Reverse Harem Urban Fantasy Romance & The Pack's Redemption: A Silver Wolf Shifter Paranormal Romance. Enjoy!
Chapter One
Gwendolyn
Two weeks before the Harvest Festival.
Harvest time is supposed to be a time of bounty. A time where there is more tha
n enough to go around. When people celebrate all the good things they have going in life, all the abundance available to them.
With autumn having moved in to stay a few weeks back in my small town of Love’s Hollow, New York, turning the leaves gold and red, I wanted nothing more than to be feeling blessed. Abundant, since I am one of the lucky ones.
I inherited The Lucky Spell Pot from my grandmother, Cora, a master witch and healer. It’s been a successful restaurant and watering hole for three generations. A place where the magic is mixed in with the drinks.
Love’s Hollow has always been a haven for supernatural types. Those of us who were born just a little bit different, with a little bit more magic than the rest of the world.
We were founded by witches who left Luck’s Hollow, Ireland, when there were witch hunts there in the 1500s. Others flocked here during the American witch hunts in the 1600s. Now everyone who has lived here, has been here for generations. It’s been a place of safety and sanctuary.
At least it was, until I was unable to uphold the Seeding Spell that protected the town and the humans started to move in with their technology. Carl and Maxine Axelrod, a couple of human grease-ball real estate tycoons moved into our little town and decided to make every other business around them go under. Their goal, or perhaps it was just an effect, was to make local businesses collapse, or otherwise fall into destitution, disrepair and destruction.
Then they were able to make all their money from a lack of competition. Not to mention an influx of customers from all those other closed local businesses, including mine.
The Axelrods were followed by other humans, who set up technological corporations and businesses, like Reverb Tech and Slone Inc. They offer tech jobs to the locals, but also change the feeling of the town.
With the Seeding Spell gone, the magic is diminishing, rolled and destroyed beneath the mundane world the humans are bringing. The original businesses that were here are closing. The paranormal citizens are going into hiding and pretending to be human to work at the big companies. It’s all because of me and my failure; and now I’m going to lose everything.
I wasn’t expecting this. But then again, who could expect a real estate business to play dirty with other businesses? Especially a business like mine?
The Lucky Spell Pot is an institution around these parts, since everyone who’s anyone still remembers my grandmother, and everyone went to her for remedies and potions. A few even remember my great grandmother, and my great great grandmother, Agnes — the one who started this pub over four hundred years ago. She’s become a piece of local history.
Grandmother Agnes was and is the reason why this town even expanded into what it is today. When everyone started pointing fingers at witches again, she moved north and found that others facing similar oppression had made our town in northern New York in a pleasant little valley into their home.
She told her friends, those who could stir a spell and shift, about the haven that had been created and that she was helping to expand. They brought their families, built houses and started businesses to serve the town.
There were worries back then that outsiders— even those with good intentions like Grandmother Agnes— could end up harming the small, peaceful community. But other fairy folk still needed protection and had nowhere else to go.
So, Grandmother Agnes put the Seeding Spell on the town to ensure its survival. It made sure no humans entered the area and set up a business, and the paranormal citizens of the town thrived. That spell was why Love’s Hollow didn’t dry up and become desolate with the rest of the small towns in this area.
And that is why those who had moved from Luck’s Hollow, Ireland and who had established Love’s Hollow, New York, allowed my Grandmother Agnes and other paranormal beings to stay in Love’s Hollow— because she had ensured everyone’s safety with the spell she had set into motion.
It’s been the responsibility of the women of my family, the Bishops, to uphold the spell. Each generation has to cast the spell anew. Therefore, each daughter in the witch family must get pregnant with a daughter in order for the spell to be enacted.
And yet, I haven’t. I am a failure to my family and Love’s Hollow because the lynchpin of the spell centers on myself being pregnant with a daughter. A little girl of my own, to pass down the lore and spells of my family.
But I’m not pregnant. Not even close. I haven’t found anyone to love, I haven’t even had a boyfriend and I’m still a virgin. And because of my lack of love, Love’s Hollow is falling prey to these rich real estate developers and tech companies.
But now it that seemed my business, the legacy of my family, was about to be the next one to turn into a living ghost, not a burned-out skeleton in this town of Love’s Hollow. Which is why, instead of feeling anything like happiness toward all the Harvest decorations, all the reminders of fall and what to be thankful for, I was slumped against my own wooden bar.
The spell was supposed to be broken by the time Harvest Festival rolled around each year, and here I was not pregnant and not even close to becoming pregnant. And here I also was, dragging my hands through my own red hair, wondering what Grandmother Agnes or Grandmother Cora would say if they were here.
I wonder whether they would tell me to keep fighting to keep this place open, or whether they would tell me to give up the ghost? Or if they would lecture me on what a failure I am?
Should I just let the pub sink, along with all the of the other businesses in town?
The thought alone broke my heart. Tears sprung to my eyes, just thinking of it, and of my Grandmother Cora. My grandmother who loved and raised me after my mother died early. The way she was when I was little. How much joy she got from showing me and my four brothers the heart of this business, though none of the boys had the heart to inherit it.
Even now, I felt her in all the beer mugs. In all the bottles of the liquor stacked behind me, waiting for their chance to shine. In all the spell pots in the kitchen.
I can’t just let it go like that. I can’t just shut this down. Not after it’s been going so strong for so long.
I wiped at my eyes, feeling them sting. I cursed at myself, even though no tears were streaking down my cheeks. Yet.
I can’t just let it go. My legacy. Not after everything they went through. Not after every hardship and joy they endured.
I raked my hands through my red hair.
But what the fuck can I do?
What should I do, Grandma?
My throat closed, just saying her name. Though she’d been dead and gone almost two years now, it still felt like yesterday when I got the phone call with the news that she had passed away, leaving The Lucky Spell Pot to me.
I’ve got to pay these bills. Fix the red I’m in, otherwise we are not even going to make it to our annual Harvest Festival.
The Harvest Festival. Our biggest, most important night of the year. Where we made up for all our financial shortcomings, and stored seeds to make it through the winter. If we couldn’t even stay open for that, we had no chance of making it to the spring.
The Harvest Festival was also the time that I should re-cast the spell to protect the town. But I could only do that if I had a daughter or was at least pregnant with one. But since I had no men in my life, no possible lovers, then this was another year of failure. Failure for myself and the town.
Interrupting these thoughts, as if the universe took pity on me, I heard noise outside. Sounds of people celebrating, laughing and having fun. For a moment, I hoped against hope that those sounds of celebration and laughter were for me. Perhaps they were visitors in anticipation of coming to The Lucky Spell Pot and giving me something other than my money woes to worry over.
But I was not so lucky. The people walked right past my window, right past my door, denying me any hope of good cheer or better business.
Just as I was about to sigh, contemplate actually tearing out a few pieces of my hair, and maybe selling them to somebody for enough cash to keep the
doors open a while longer, my cell phone rang.
I could tell immediately from its techno/electric-swing vibe that it was Jasper. One of my brothers. While I was close with all of them, Jasper and I always were two peas in the same pod. We could’ve been twins, according to our grandmother. We were the same, down to reading each other’s thoughts and emotions, much like I was sure he was doing now.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t be calling.
He and my other brothers, Crispin, Holland and Seth were just a few of the paranormal citizens who were trying to keep Love’s Hallow afloat. They all recently started their own business, Spelled Ink, a tattoo shop a few miles over— and were usually too busy to call. Unless Jasper sensed something wrong.
I picked it up, though I already knew I didn’t want him to worry or fret about me on top of everything else creating a new business demanded.
“Hey, Jasper,” I said, trying to sound more cheerful than I actually felt. Even as I spoke, some part of already knew he wouldn’t buy it. “How’s it going at the tattoo shop? Getting any customers yet?”
“Don’t deflect to me, Gwendolyn,” he replied.
While my brother was a softy, he was also very much the fastidious, no-nonsense type.
“I just started to feel really sick to my stomach for some reason. Something’s up with you. I can tell. Something’s up with the spell and the pub that Grandma Cora left you.”
“Nothing I haven’t told you before, Jasper,” I replied, feeling sick to my stomach now too.
More people were walking past my windows, not even bothering to look inside or see what kind of goodies I could offer them. It made me feel like a relic, like something lost to time, or belonging in one of the role-playing video games that my brother Holland liked to play.
