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Epilogue
www.jenniferlynnreynolds.com
MARKED
The Valeterra Series: Book One
Marked, Valeterra Series Book 1
Jennifer Reynolds
Copyright © 2017
All Rights Reserved
Cover Copyright © 2017
No Sweat Graphics by Rachel A Olson
All Rights Reserved.
Jennifer Reynolds asserts the moral and legal right to be identified as the author of this work. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the owner. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding other than that which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Author’s Note
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual places or events is purely coincidental.
***WARNING: ADULT CONTENT, SEXUAL CONTENT, AND STRONG LANGUAGE***
MARKED
The Valeterra Series: Book One
Jennifer Reynolds
I dedicate this book to Jai Brown. Thank you for being there for me during such a trying time. You’re an amazing friend.
Table of Contents
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
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Epilogue
1.
~~~Valerie~~~
“As you’ve probably already heard, Ms. Stutts, your insurance company has made a slight policy change to your yearly exam,” Dr. Carol Snider, my OB/GYN said, coming into the room and jolting me from my doze.
At every visit, I end up waiting in an exam room all but naked for at least twenty minutes before seeing her. We only had a handful of obstetricians practicing in our small town, and she was the most popular. She was the best. She was patient. She never tried to rush you out of the office.
Since she was female, she understood most of the problems, hormonally or otherwise, in which her patients dealt. Unfortunately, that meant that during my wait for her to see me, I usually found myself napping on the exam table if I forgot to bring a source of entertainment.
“I heard something about that from my sister. She wasn’t sure what exactly the change was,” I said, trying to keep myself covered with the white paper gown draped over the bottom half of my body and the paper shirt while not looking as if I’d nearly fallen off the table at her entrance.
Gail, my sister, had read the paperwork our insurance company had sent us, but I hadn’t. As with all things that had to do with our insurance company, the detailed information form they sent on the changes wasn’t all that detailed or written where the average person could read it.
“The change isn’t anything major,” she said. “We just have to take some blood—not much, only a vial, I promise. Your company, along with many others, is making blood testing for certain sexually transmitted diseases mandatory.”
“Even if I haven’t been sexually active for some years?” I detested saying that aloud even though my doctor knew my sexual history…or lack thereof.
“Yep. I had to test a seventy-year-old woman the other day. Her husband has been dead for well over ten years now, and she swears she hasn’t wanted to be with a man since he passed, but I had to run the tests.”
“Okay. That seems like a waste of time and money, but whatever. As long as my premium doesn’t go up because of it, I’m fine with you doing whatever you need to do. What else has changed?”
“On my end, that’s it. You’re G.P. might have some changes, but the blood tests are all I have to do. The company will probably think of something before your next checkup, I’m sure.” She chuckled before asking, “Do you have any questions or concerns before we get started?”
“Not really. My periods are still regular. I give myself breast exams once a month and haven’t felt anything. These things are getting saggier every year, but as far as I can tell, that’s the only change in them. My weight is still continuing to go up despite my best efforts to stop it.”
I knew better than to mention my weight. As sympathetic as she was about most things, the only advice Dr. Snider ever gave me on that subject was to eat less and exercise more. I was not starving myself, which was what I felt I was doing if I ate any less. I walked four days a week for forty-five minutes to an hour. I had a bookstore to run, so I didn’t have time for much of anything else. I was who I was. I didn’t have any medical issues due to my weight. I was entirely happy with who I was…mostly.
Still, I wanted to know why I couldn’t lose weight, but neither my gynecologist nor my general practitioner seemed to have an answer, or care, or want to help me figure out if something was wrong. They only looked at me as if I was just a lazy ass who wasn’t willing to help myself, so I was attempting to learn to love myself for who I was.
Surprisingly, she didn’t say anything about dieting or exercising that time. She just told me to scoot down on the table and put my feet in the stirrups. She’d been my OB/GYN for years. She’s probably figured that if I hadn’t taken her advice by then—which I had, I just hadn’t lost any weight in doing so; therefore, she didn’t think I had—I wasn’t going to.
I sighed and did as she ordered. That exam was over quickly, and then she moved to my breasts. Five minutes later, I was dressing and leaving the room to give my vial of blood and pay my co-payment. Normally, I was thankful to have that exam over with for another year, but that morning, I left the office feeling anxious and worried that the lab was going to find something horribly wrong with my blood work.
“How did your checkup go?” Gail asked, following me into my office at my bookstore when I got back from my checkup.
“It was a normal checkup like al
l of the others I’ve had,” I said, putting my purse away and taking a seat behind my desk.
“What about all the changes and new requirements? She didn’t do anything new, did she? Didn’t stick her finger up your butt?”
“Why would she ever have to stick her finger up my butt?” I asked, dropping the mail I’d gathered in shock at her words.
“I don’t know. I’ve heard some OB/GYNs do that. She didn’t?”
“No, thank God. The only thing different was that I had to give blood. She said our insurance company made blood testing for sexually transmitted diseases mandatory, which I get for those, like you, who are sexually active, but I don’t know why they have to test me.”
I wasn’t calling my sister a slut or anything like that, and she knew that…I hoped.
“I guess they do it in case you’re lying about your sexual history. And I’m not that sexually active. You make me sound like a ho-bag. I’ve only slept with two different men in the last two years.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. The entire thing annoys me and reminds me of how alone I’ve been. When is your next appointment with her?”
“Two weeks from now. You promise Dr. Snider doesn’t do the butt thing?”
“I promise. Now get back to your restaurant and make me lunch,” I said, waving my sister from my office and laughing when she stuck her tongue out at me.
2.
~~~Jackson~~~
“Are you sure you want to participate in this experiment, Sir?” my assistant, Stephanie Weems, asked, looking down at the files stacked in front of me on my desk. She looked relaxed, but I could smell anxiety radiating from her.
“If I’m going to ask other alphas to do this, I think I should participate, don’t you?” I replied, purposefully leaning back in my chair, trying to look as nonchalant as possible while not eyeing one file in particular.
Stephanie’s keen observational skills would notice me doing so if I wasn’t careful. She’d also catch the scent of lust emanating from me if I didn’t calm down. I couldn’t have either.
The file and, more importantly, the woman detailed in said file that had made me decide to add my name to the short list of alphas who’d volunteered for the program in question wasn’t on top. I’d purposely buried it inside the stack so that Stephanie wouldn’t know it was what held my attention and so that I would stop looking at the woman’s photo.
Unfortunately, when I had haphazardly tossed the files onto my desk in a show of indifference to the possible mates, hers had shifted so that her picture stuck out enough for me to see her face. Damn it. If it hadn’t been for her, I wouldn’t have volunteered to be one of the few alphas who would be attempting to seek a mate outside of Valeterra; therefore, I wouldn’t be having this uncomfortable conversation.
“You aren’t the one asking them. The entire Valeterrian government voted to do this. Only a few of the alphas volunteered. None of the alphas who volunteer have to do this. I mean, you didn’t leave yourselves much choice by limiting volunteering open only to alphas, but you don’t have to volunteer. There are over a thousand alphas from all over Valeterra, and about half are without mates. More of them can come forward. Once they see that those who have volunteered have found mates among the humans, more will sign up. You shouldn’t feel obligated to do something you’re not comfortable doing.”
She watched me carefully as she spoke, looking for any shift in my behavior or scent that would tell her the actual reason for my suddenly summoning her to my office to tell her that I was volunteering for a program I had originally planned to stay out of except in an advisory capacity.
“I know you’re worried that I’m not over Alexis’ death. Your sister was an amazing woman, and I’ll always love her, but I think this is something I have to do. I’m one of the oldest alphas left with so many of us gone. Only the young alphas have volunteered. If we’re going to get more volunteers, I’m going to have to step forward. Besides, the chances of one of these women being my mate are small,” I said, nodding to the stack of files.
I was lying, and Stephanie knew it. As hard as I tried, I hadn’t been able to stop myself from cutting my eyes to the woman’s photo. I had known the second I’d flipped to her file that I would be volunteering for the project. She was my mate. I didn’t need to read her file, didn’t need to see her in person. My wolf knew the second our eyes had scanned her photo that she was ours.
“All right. How do we start?” Stephanie asked, reaching across my desk and scooping up the files. She glanced quickly at the photo sticking awkwardly out of the stack but didn’t react to it in any way.
“You have about twenty files there. Take them to the volunteers. See if any of the alphas react to those women in a way that suggests the woman might be their mate. If so, send someone to make contact with the possible mate.”
“I’m on it,” Stephanie said, turning to leave.
She nearly made it to the door before my wolf ordered me to stop her.
“Wait.” I all but snarled the words as I pushed myself out of my chair. She turned to me with a questioning look. “I want you to handle these two yourself, please. They’re sisters. They live together. Approach the older one first, though.”
I pulled the files out a bit to indicate the two women to which I was referring. She looked down at the top one—my mate’s file—but again, she didn’t react.
“I can do that,” she said, before turning back to the door.
“Thank you,” I said to her retreating form.
I didn’t want a mate. I wanted to wallow in my grief for my deceased wife, but the wolf part of me wouldn’t allow the woman in that file to get away. My compromise with him was to get her to Valeterra under our protection where he could see her every day and know she was safe, even if I wasn’t sure I was ready to allow him to have her. He wasn’t happy with the compromise, but he wasn’t scratching—too badly—to get free and escape to the human world to fetch her.
Five minutes of pacing my office were all I could take as I listened to Stephanie on the phone arranging to go to Earth to bring my mate to Valeterra. As she was hanging up with her mate, I barged out of my office and told her I was going for a run. I was out the back door and in wolf form before she could respond.
3.
~~~Valerie~~~
I didn’t think anything else about my yearly exam after that day until nearly six weeks later when a tall, light brown-haired woman showed up in front of my bookstore just as I was setting up a few tables and chairs along the walkway of my small building.
My sister owned the little deli next door to me. Some of her patrons liked to eat outside, so I helped her out by putting a few of her tables in front of my store in the hopes of attracting more people to come inside and possibly buy a book. I also had a cart full of free books I’d picked up at yard sales and thrift stores or that people had donated to me, or the store, sitting out there in an attempt to draw interest. I allowed patrons of the diner and my bookstore to take these books if they wanted or to read them while they ate.
“Excuse me,” the woman said, coming up to the table I was decorating. “I’m looking for Valerie Stutts. Would you know where I can find her?”
The woman looked prim and official in her gray skirt suit and heels. She had her hair pulled up in a tight bun. She made me think of a prettier version of a headmistress of a highly prestigious and strict prep school. I’d never seen such a person outside of movies and television shows, but she looked exactly like what I thought one of those ladies would look.
She didn’t hold her hand out for me to shake. She only stood with her briefcase in both hands in front of her and looked at me.
I rose from straightening the tablecloth I’d just finished decorating and said, “I’m Valerie.”
I extended my hand for her to take, but she just looked at me. She looked at me for a long time, taking in every inch of my cream peasant top, brown bohemian skirt, and Earth Shoes sandals. My hair h
ung long and wavy over my shoulders, and the large hoop earrings I wore told her just how different she and I were from each other. The fact that all of that billowy clothing covered a size twenty-two body helped divide us also. Never in my adult life had I been a size ten, which was the size I was certain she was. Her scrutinizing gaze made me uncomfortable and self-conscious. I was obviously not who or what she thought or hoped I was.
Deciding that I could be just as rude as she was being, I lowered my hand, turned my back to her, and went to work on the next table.
After a long moment, she snapped from her perusal of me and followed me, saying, “Ms. Stutts, is there somewhere private we can go to talk?”
“Yes,” I said, as I continued to dress the table. I didn’t look up at the woman once.
“Could we go there, please?”
I could feel her nervously shifting on her feet beside me, but I didn’t acknowledge her presence for a long moment.
“Nope,” I finally said when I had the centerpiece just right.
“Excuse me,” she said with a gasp, moving to stand across from me so that she would be in my line of sight when I leaned away from the table.
“Look, I’m here by myself. I have to finish these tables before the deli opens in five minutes. You’re more than welcome to join me in my office the second my opening manager gets here and can take over,” I said coldly, looking down at my watch. “She should be here in ten minutes.”
“All right,” she said. With a loud sigh, she went over to peruse the free books.
Well, that was easy, I thought, eyeing her suspiciously. Her presence alone was making me highly uncomfortable. She had a predatorial air about her that I didn’t like.
“Who’s that?” my sister asked, joining me to help ensure everything was ready for when she opened.
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