A Mate's Sacrifice: (Hot Paranormal Romance) (Ozark Mountain Shifters Book 2)

by P. Jameson

  “It was fine.”

  She sat in the chair across from him. “Was there something wrong with it?” Her voice was so quiet, he had to look up. Her face was set in a deep frown. “Eggs are kind of my specialty. These are a favorite at my restaurant. But I mean, that’s in small-town Alaska. Maybe it’s not what you’re used to?”

  He had the feeling the less he talked to her the better off he’d be.

  “It was just a basic fry with butter instead of oil. Sometimes the browned butter taste is strong. Maybe that’s what it was?” Still frowning, her gaze had traveled to the plate. She scowled at it like it had offended the pope.

  Clearly, this was a sensitive spot.

  “You work at a restaurant?”

  She shook her head. “I own a restaurant. I’m a chef by trade.”

  “In Alaska?”

  She nodded.

  “What are you doing here then?”

  “Visiting.”

  “Oh.” Visiting. Meaning she would return home at some point. Alaska was a very long ways away. Part of him rejoiced; part of him shriveled around a knot in his gut.

  “What about you? Are you from the Joplin area?”

  He shook his head, thumbing the tabletop. “South of here. The Ozarks.”

  “What town?”

  “No town. I live in the mountains with my pack.”

  Her pretty eyes narrowed. “Your pack? Like, wolf pack? How does that work? Is it like a community? How come Trager doesn’t have a pack?”

  So many questions. He wanted to snarl at her. He wanted to—and this was the most amazing—grin over her curiosity.

  “It’s a shifter pack. We have an alpha who leads us. I am the second in command. It is somewhat, a community, with its own laws and hierarchy. Trager doesn’t have a pack because he was expelled and never joined another one.”

  “Expelled? Why?” She looked so concerned for the lone wolf, Vesh had to actually stifle a bit of jealousy.

  “I told you. We have laws. Trager didn’t… meet certain criteria to remain in the pack. So he was sent away.”

  “That’s awful,” she whispered, her face aghast. “What do you mean, criteria?”

  Vesh sighed. He didn’t want to talk about the bastard wolf. Quickly, he rattled off the basics hoping she wouldn’t ask anymore. “The pack Elders declared he would never have a family. That his mate would reject him, leaving him alone and most importantly, without young. But none of that matters now. They were obviously wrong, for the first time in decades. Maybe centuries. Because Kerrigan didn’t deny him. Tell me, does she carry his mark?”

  Braeh nodded, but Vesh could hardly find a part of him that cared whether Trager had marked his mate. It had seemed so important to beat him to the punch yesterday, but now things had changed. And he couldn’t say it was for the better either.

  Braeh’s eyes had glazed over. She stared at her coffee—or rather through her coffee—rubbing one earlobe between her finger and thumb.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Her gaze jolted to his, and she gave him the kind of smile he hated. Fake. A half-smile where only one side of her full mouth slid upward. “Nothing.”

  She rose and put his plate in the sink.

  “Aren’t you going to eat?”

  “Nah. I had the banana.”

  Vesh frowned. “That’s not nearly enough.”

  “For me, it is.”

  She had maybe .72 percent of her body that was something other than muscle and bones. Why the hell didn’t she eat? Was she one of those obsessive weight conscious women with an eating disorder?

  “You should eat more.”

  “Yeah, I haven’t heard that one before,” she mumbled. He could practically hear her eyes rolling.

  “Well, then. Why don’t you listen?”

  She turned to face him, bracing her hands on the counter. “How much I eat is no one’s business except mine.”

  He gave her a blatant once-over. “Are you anorexic?” He didn’t try to hide the disgust in his voice.

  Anger flashed in her eyes. “No, actually. I love food. Remember, I do food for a living? Ever hear of an anorexic chef?”

  “Well, what then? You clearly don’t eat enough. Why?”

  “Are you serious right now?”

  “Yes. I am.” He glared to get his point across.

  “I eat like a moose carrying twin calves. I’m talking, I need a shovel to get all that food down my throat. I just can’t eat in the morning. It makes me feel sick. So I do coffee and wait until lunch. Damn. What’s your problem anyway?”

  Vesh felt his tensed muscles loosen. “Oh.”

  “Yeah. Oh.” She shook her head and marched into the living room. But he heard her muttered, “Asshole,” and couldn’t help the feeling of pride that snaked up his spine.

  She called him an asshole. He kind of loved it.

  And she was right.

  Chapter Four

  “Kerri should be here in a couple hours or so. You can wait or you can just come back later like any normal person.” Braeh folded the throw blanket and draped it over the back of the couch.

  She hoped he’d just leave. Kind of. He sure was a judgmental ass. And who didn’t like her eggs? No one, that’s who. But on the other hand, waiting for Kerri on her own would be boring. She’d be stuck watching The View again. Those women did more bickering than talking on any given morning. Sometimes it was better to just put the TV on mute and try to lip read.

  He raised an eyebrow. “I’m far from a normal person. Obviously. So, I think I’ll wait.” He sank down on the couch, placing both hands behind his head in a relaxed pose.

  “Suit yourself.” She turned to leave.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To shower. Stay here.”

  He scowled. “You think I would follow you?”

  She shrugged “Who knows. I don’t know you or anything. This way it’s clear, you’re not welcome…” she jerked her thumb behind her “…in there.”

  Not hanging around to hear his response, she slipped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She removed the gun from her sweatshirt, undressed, and stared at herself in the mirror. For the eleventy millionth time in her life, she wished she had hips like Kerri. Yes, her sister was on the fluffy side. In high school people had even called her fat. But Braeh was akin to a stick figure. Well… maybe that wasn’t quite true. She was lean, but there was muscle tone there thanks to all her outdoor activities. Hiking, sledding, and don’t forget, hunting.

  Still. To inherit a few of her sister’s curves would have been nice.

  No. She wasn’t going to do this. She was long over hating her figure. Ever since culinary school, she’d taken on a different attitude about her body image. If there was one thing she knew to be true, it was this: there is no such thing as perfect. Some people thought Kerri was too big. But look who was dragging around a hottie werewolf on one arm. And some people—like the dumbass egg-hating shifter—thought Braeh was too skinny. But she’d had her share of boyfriends in the past, who preferred banging a beanpole. Perfect was subjective.

  She stuck her tongue out at herself in the mirror, and then turned the shower on. Stepping under the warm spray, she let out a long, languid sigh. The water was exactly what she needed to relax her muscles after spending the night in a chair.

  What a strange night it was. She’d definitely be guilt-tripping Kerri with this. Maybe they could go shopping. At a real mall. There must be one nearby.

  Braeh squeezed a pearl of body wash onto her puff and began lathering up. The motion helped relieve any further tension and her mind drifted to Vesh. The wolf was hot with a capital H and two Ts. With scowling dark eyes, and short dark hair, and full soft lips. Make that three Ts.

  She shivered, remembering how they’d felt on her wrist.

  But she knew there was something not quite right about him. The way he looked at her was… intimidating. Confusing. Like he knew her in a past life. As if they were connected
somehow. And like he wanted her but couldn’t stand her.

  With the sponge, she did another pass over her aching nipples. And another. One more. It felt too good.

  Braeh froze. Well, damn. She was horny.

  She ran the frothy puff slowly down her stomach.

  Really, she should hurry with her shower and get back to babysitting Kerri’s visitor, but…

  If she didn’t do something about this throbbing between her legs, she’d be frustrated as hell. And staring at Mr. Dark and Lovely wouldn’t help that frustration in the slightest. Yes, she was doing the world a favor by—ahem—seeing to herself. Besides, it wasn’t like Kerrigan had silver or fine china he could steal or anything. A few extra minutes couldn’t hurt.

  She dipped the sponge between her legs, and bit her lip to stifle the resulting moan. She swirled it around and back up to her breasts, and down again. Braeh dropped the puff and used her hands, imagining they were Vesh’s. Quickly she pushed that thought away, not wanting him in her fantasy, but he returned again and again, until he was all she could think of.

  Damn it.

  His hands touching her in just the right spot, squeezing her breasts, teasing her nipples. His hands everywhere. That’s what she imagined.

  She moaned loudly, and hoped the water from the shower covered up the noise.

  At this rate, it wasn’t going to take a few extra minutes. No, she would be done in a matter of seconds.

  ***

  Vesh was doing well. In fact, he was damn proud of himself. His mate, unwanted as she was, was completely and utterly naked, hidden behind only a thin piece of wood for a door and a flimsy shower curtain, and here he was not ripping those two things to shreds so he could get a glimpse of her.

  His wolf deserved a damn Nobel Peace prize.

  He paced the length of the living room again. If only he could learn where Trager was, he wouldn’t need Braeh. There must be some clue in the apartment.

  Snooping around, Vesh found a box of old photos by the door. They were all of Kerrigan and another man. He looked like a bigger douchebag than Trager. Good thing he wasn’t around anymore.

  Vesh opened a few desk drawers, but found nothing of use. The bookshelves were slim, and the boxes nearby indicated someone had already started packing them.

  He was about to venture into the bedroom to continue his snooping when a specific sound froze his feet to the hardwood.

  He had fantastic hearing, but he hoped he’d misheard this. He listened closer. Inhaled deeply.

  Dear great merciful Elders. No wolf deserved this kind of torture. Not even him, and he’d done a lot of shitty things.

  Another sensual moan assaulted is ears and he braced himself against the wall. She was… she couldn’t be…

  Vesh creeped toward the bathroom door, his hand skimming the wall, his throat stuck on a swallow. Faintly, he could hear his mate’s heavy breathing. The water was interrupted in a rhythm that let him know exactly what she was doing.

  Once again a great flood of conflicting emotions battered him. His mate, the one he was born to please, was… pleasing herself. His wolf howled at the injustice. But Vesh, the human side of him, silently urged her on. Better she take care of herself because he wouldn’t be giving her any of that.

  The thought made him sad. Mournfully sad.

  He pressed his palm against the cool wood of the door. This wasn’t right. He should be in there, touching her, learning her. Giving, taking, showing. They should be celebrating that they’d found each other. He should be wooing her and winning her. None of these shitty memories or preconceived ideas should factor in. They should be together. End of fucking story.

  She moaned again, and he realized for the first time since he was a wolfling, he had tears in his eyes.

  He pushed away from the door. No way. No fucking way was he crying over this. The anger dried his wet eyes fast, and good thing too because the shower shut off.

  Vesh paced in front of the couch, fists clenching and unclenching. The bathroom door opened a crack and he heard Braeh call for him.

  “Hey, can you… um, turn your head? I forgot my clothes and I need to run to the bedroom.”

  Vesh threw his head back and stared at the ceiling. How much of this shit was he going to have to take in one day? And it wasn’t even noon yet.

  “Please,” she added quietly.

  He sighed. “Yeah. Sure.”

  “Promise you won’t look?”

  He didn’t answer because yeah… he was totally going to look. That was just the kind of asshole he was.

  He sat on the couch, his back to the bathroom and hallway. “I promise I’ll count to five first,” he muttered.

  “Good enough.”

  He heard the door creak open. What he didn’t mention was he’d already started counting and he was on four. Her footsteps padded as she ran to the room.

  He peeked.

  Her short chin length hair was slicked back and her skin was dewy. She was wrapped in a towel that left a little to the imagination, but not much. Her arms and legs were thin and graceful with enough muscle to give him the idea she must work out pretty regularly. His favorite part was her shoulders. They were perfectly straight and regal. They seemed both fragile and strong at the same time.

  Like him.

  She slammed the door to the bedroom, shutting off his perusal.

  Vesh took a deep anger-heated breath. He needed action. To punch a tree or run a few miles or something. He wanted to get back at her for torturing him this way, even though she had no idea what he was going through. Or even Trager, he’d settle for nice spar with that bastard. Anything to clear his mind and make him forget, for even a little while, what tragedy he’d found behind the door of apartment 4-D.

  Two seconds later, a solution to his problem walked through that very door.

  Chapter Five

  Braeh leaned against the closed bedroom door, breathing to calm her nerves. Desperately, she hoped she’d made it before he reached five. Or that he was joking. Yeah, he was probably just giving her hell. Normally she wouldn’t care so much. If someone was desperate enough to ogle her then fine. She’d let them. But this seemed different somehow. Especially now that she’d basically hand jived to him.

  She groaned, pulling on her bra and panties, followed quickly by a t-shirt and jeans.

  Braeh checked her phone and groaned again. Damnity, damn, damn. Bad cell reception was the bane of her existence. She’d only assumed it’d be better here. But no. Trager had to go and live off the grid, and take Kerrigan with him.

  “Ugh.” She rolled her eyes as she flipped through a barrage of texts from her sister.

  What the hell is the hen house? This is Missouri, not Little House on the Prairie.

  Hello?

  Braeh?

  What do you mean by ‘wolf’ exactly?

  Is that euphemism for sex? Because that’s a little weird.

  Are you alright? Why aren’t you answering?

  Brae, answer me!!!

  I swear if you’re not dead, I’m going to kill you.

  We’re on our way.

  All of them had come through in the last hour, which meant…

  Braeh was in the hall as soon as she heard the front door slam.

  “What the hell are you doing in my apartment?” Kerri screeched.

  Vesh chuckled. “Hey there, kitten. I’ve missed you.” Chuckled? Braeh wasn’t aware he could even do that. All she’d seen was scowling and blank stares. And the weird reaction when he was healing.

  And kitten? What the hell kind of nickname was that?

  “Where’s my sister?” Braeh had never heard Kerri sound so threatening. For some reason, her sister standing up to a man as imposing as Vesh made Braeh proud.

  “Oh, she’s around here somewhere,” he said casually. As if she was a lost sock.

  “Braeh! If you hurt her, you bastard, I swear to—“

  Enough of this. “I’m here. No worries, sis. Everything’s fine.”
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  “Oh, dear god.” Kerri ran to her and Braeh was squashed in a bear hug.

  Kerrigan pulled back looking her up and down. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you? I was going to let Trager kill him but I’ll do it myself if he hurt you. Why didn’t you call the police? Or drive to a hotel? Or… oh my god, I’m so sorry. I should have been here. I’ll never forgive—“

  “Stop!” Braeh hoped she wouldn’t have to bitch-slap her sister to calm her down. It would be unfortunate. Mostly because Kerri would surely bitch-slap her back. “I’m fine. See, look. Nothing happened. I’m not hurt at all. I swear.”

  Kerrigan nodded. “Okay. Yeah, okay.”

  Vesh clucked his tongue. “Do you really think I’d harm someone so important to you, little kitten?”

  Braeh frowned. Okay, enough with the kitten shit. It made her want to go take another shower. Vesh being affectionate with Kerri, even if it was sarcastic—which she wasn’t entirely sure it was—felt wrong on so many levels.

  Kerri turned, glaring at him. “Of course I think you would. Why are you here, Vesh?”

  He grinned and even though it didn’t reach his eyes, it was pretty stunning. He had dimples that made him seem instantly charming. “I came to see you, of course,” he said smoothly.

  Braeh felt her cheeks heat.

  Kerri turned on her. “What were you thinking?”

  “Whoa. Seriously?”

  “This is 2014. This isn’t Little House on the—“

  “Prairie. Yes, I know. You already mentioned that.”

  “You can’t just let strange men into my house.”

  “Excuse me,” Vesh cut in, “but I’m not really all that strange.”

  “See?” Braeh agreed.

  Kerri scowled like she was in a scowling contest at a county fair or something. She’d win it too, looking like that. “Come with me.” She grabbed Braeh by the arm and dragged her into the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind them.