The Alpha's Mate (8 Sexy, Powerful Shifters and Their Fated Mates)

by Lynn Red

  Taking a deep breath, she stepped beneath the treetops and followed a path that appeared to be well traveled. Having seldom walked in a forest before, she was surprised at just how much darker it was— more light actually weaved in between the tree trunks than it did down from above the branches. The ground was thickly dappled with shadows, but her eyes adjusted quickly. She could hear animals rustling in the underbrush as they scampered away from her, and caught a glimpse of red as a cardinal shot past.

  As she headed deeper and deeper into the forest, she noticed that the tree trunks grew bigger and more craggy—ancient, she thought. It seemed fitting that the closer one got to the heart of the forest, the older the trees would be. What was strange was the fact that even though she was getting closer to the center, the wildlife was growing more and more sparse. She would have thought it would be opposite.

  The trees began to thin out, and suddenly Clara found herself standing in front of a large stone wall. It rose high, easily ten feet tall, and she frowned, wondering how it was she didn’t notice it until now. It was as though it had cropped out of thin air.

  “How strange,” she murmured, running a palm against the stone, which was warm to the touch. Something tickled her awareness, and she looked to the left to see an opening in the stone wall she hadn’t noticed before. Walking closer, she realized it was the entrance to a maze.

  “Well, I’ve come this far,” she thought, after a quick look around. “I might as well continue on.”

  She wandered through the maze, and soon became hopelessly lost. She pressed forward doggedly, refusing to acknowledge the fact that the sunlight was waning at an alarming rate. For some reason, in her heart she believed that if she could just find the source of the howling before the sun set, she would not be harmed. She didn’t know why she believed it, but the conviction was strong enough to propel her onward until she was flat out running, clutching the skirt of her muslin dress on one hand and the bonnet that had slipped off her head with the other.

  When the exit to the maze finally came in sight, she could have cried—her relief was so overwhelming. Without a thought as to what might lay on the other end, she stumbled out of the maze, crashing into something hard.

  “Ahh!” she cried, clutching her forehead. As she looked up, she quickly revised her assessment—it wasn’t a wall she had slammed into, but into a very hard, very muscular chest. Her eyes traveled up, and up to rest on a handsome and very familiar face—the very same one she’d been seeing in her dreams.

  “Hello,” the man said softly, his yellow eyes gleaming. “And where have you come from?”

  She opened her mouth to respond, but she had trouble concentrating over the roaring in her ears and the sudden dizziness that overcame her. That’s it—she was hallucinating. There was no way this could be real. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she slumped forward into a dead faint.

  * * *

  Kellan leaned back in his chair as he watched the woman sleep. Long, chestnut hair spilled out against the pillow, no longer confined by that silly bonnet she’d been wearing when she’d fainted—he’d tossed it on a nearby table. Her lashes fanned against her creamy cheekbones, her blush-colored lips were parted slightly, and her chest rose and fell steadily as typical for one in a restful sleep.

  She’d already been unconscious when he’d caught her in his arms, and had provided little trouble to him when he’d taken her back to his cabin. Her body was slight and did not weigh much, but her size and strength were not what concerned him. It was the fact that she’d managed to find them at all. It had been a very long time since a human had last stumbled upon their location—and she had been a woman, too.

  When she’d first seen him, he’d watched her eyes widen in shock and horror, but also recognition, and that puzzled him, nagging at his memory. He was certain they’d never met before—he would have remembered her not just for her beauty, but her scent. Even now it wrapped around him, infusing the air with its combination of honeysuckle and spice—sweetness with a bite. He usually found that personalities often ran closely with scents, and knew that she would be a handful when she woke.

  More than a handful, I’d say, his conscience murmured, and he growled a little as his thoughts took a lustful turn. The simple muslin dress was high waisted, designed to show off her curves to perfection—and this woman was not lacking in the least. More than a handful, indeed.

  Shaking his head, he tried to focus, but it was hard—for some reason clear headedness had eluded him the moment she’d stepped into his line of vision. No—before that. He’d scented her minutes before she’d appeared, when he’d been standing in front of the gates. It had been his turn to take watch, and though they usually did it in pairs, his partner had wandered off. So when the woman had appeared, he’d been the only one to see her.

  It wouldn’t take long before the others were alerted to her presence, and they wouldn’t be happy to see an intruder in their midst. He needed to wake her, and ask her questions first, because he had a good idea of why she was here, and though it didn’t make him happy, it also meant that he would have to protect her at all costs should his suspicions prove true.

  No sooner had he completed the thought did she start to stir. A smile curved his lips as he watched her eyes flutter. Good, good. Now they could begin.

  * * *

  When she awoke, it was to find herself lying face up on a soft bed. For some reason her arms were stretched out behind her, and she quickly discovered why when she tried to move them—they were tied to the bedpost.

  “I was wondering how long you would be out for,” a masculine voice said, and she jerked her head to see the man sitting in a wooden chair, leaning on the back two legs as he casually munched on an apple. His eyes gazed lazily at her, and she blinked, noticing that they were a bright green. Had she imagined them to be yellow when she’d first seen him?

  “Any longer and I would have had to wake you myself.”

  Clara struggled to get free of her bonds, and only succeeded in rubbing the skin of her wrists raw. “Who are you?” she snapped, trying not to let the fear show in her voice. “Let me go!”

  The man leaned forward, and the front legs of the chair came down onto the wooden floor with a sharp snap. “Why would I do that, when you only just got here? Besides, I have questions.”

  “What questions?” Clara snarled. “Let me go...”

  He rose up to his full height, and Clara swallowed as he towered above her briefly before perching his body on the edge of the bed, right by her hip. It occurred to her that she was completely at his mercy, and there was nothing she could do to stop him from doing anything he liked. And as his yellow eyes gleamed, the exact same look in them that had been there in her dream, she knew that he didn’t intend to leave her untouched. And for some reason, that didn’t frighten her nearly as much as it should have.

  “Like how you managed to stumble upon our secret enclave. Like why you looked upon me with fear and recognition when I first saw you. Like why you smell so...intoxicating.” He leaned forward and dipped his nose into the hollow of her neck before Clara could stop him, then inhaled deeply. Gooseflesh cropped up onto her forearms and the back of her neck, and she couldn’t stop the shiver from wracking her body.

  “Please move away from me,” she whispered.

  “Why on earth would I want to do that?” Each word he murmured pressed his lips against her collarbone, inducing yet more shivers. Her body grew hot and cold at the same time, confusing her terribly.

  “It is... uncomfortable, to have you so close.” She was embarrassed at her body’s reaction, and didn’t understand it in the least. This man had kidnapped her, proving that despite her utter lack of knowledge of him, he was dangerous. The only feeling she should be struggling with was fear and contempt.

  His eyes gleamed with laughter as he drew back and then stood, once again imposing his height upon her. “I can tell.”

  She glared at him, and then struggled to marshal her
thoughts—perhaps if she could convince him she meant no harm, he would release her. “I was exploring the woods, taking some time to myself. I stumbled upon a maze, and thought it would be fun to see if I could navigate it. Now I’m wishing I hadn’t.”

  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. Ke
llan 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 blue 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.