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

by Lynn Red

  “I’m so sorry, Kellan,” Clara whispered, feeling the connection between them now, more than ever. “I’m surprised you can stand to look at me, never mind any other human.”

  “If you and I had come together right after my parents had died, I wouldn’t have been able to. And even now it’s not easy... but my instincts tell me you’re not one of them, and I’ve always trusted my instincts.”

  The desire in his words washed over her and Clara stood, nervously. “I... perhaps it would be best if you walked me back to the entrance now. I know I’m not welcome here on a good day, and that today, after your people have been attacked, is even worse. Perhaps I should come back in a few days.”

  Kellan nodded. “I don’t think it would be good for either of us for you to miss a few days. You were supposed to come yesterday, too.” And he’d been unreasonably disappointed when she hadn’t shown up.

  Clara lowered her eyes. “I was seen by one of my neighbors on my way to the forest, who asked me to join them for a ride. I couldn’t get away without the risk of being followed. It’s possible it might happen again, and there isn’t much I can do about it save for coming at night”

  Kellan nodded. “I’ll walk you out.”

  * * *

  The next day Eve did not take her usual afternoon nap—she declared loudly that they were very behind on the chores and the winter preparation for the house, and so she and Clara ran themselves ragged. By the time night had fallen, Clara was so exhausted that she fell into a mercifully dreamless sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, and didn’t wake until her aunt finally shook her awake.

  Still, the good night’s sleep put her in a relatively cheery mood, and she whistled through the day’s work. They finished up the winter chores, and by the time mid-afternoon rolled around her aunt was ready for a nap again.

  “Go enjoy yourself, Clara,” she said, and Clara noticed that her face seemed a bit pale. “I just need a bit of rest.”

  As soon as Clara stepped outside, she noticed Lucas walking toward the house. It looked as though he had a slight limp, his shoulders slumped, and his steps careful.

  “Well, hello,” he smiled, his eyes bright. “It’s been a few days, so I thought I’d drop by. What are you up to?”

  Clara raised her eyebrows, but couldn’t help but smile. “I was just heading out for some fresh air. What happened?”

  Lucas grimaced and pulled up his pant leg to show a bandage wrapped around his leg. “I had to lay low for a bit after I came away with this bit of nastiness—mother wouldn’t let me out of bed, never mind the house.”

  “Oh, Lucas,” Clara breathed, “How did this happen?”

  “Two of our newer dogs got into a fight, and I managed to place myself on the wrong end of a pair of jaws while trying to break it up,” he said. “Unfortunate, but thankfully not life-threatening. Hurt like nobody’s business.”

  “I’m sure it did.” Clara frowned. “You really shouldn’t have walked all the way out here in your condition. That leg needs to heal.”

  Lucas grinned. “I wanted to see you, but... oh,” he groaned. “I think I need to sit down for a bit.”

  Clara took one of his arms and allowed him to lean some of his weight on her. “You’re a fool,” she scolded, a smile tugging at her lips as they made their way across the field.

  “Well, I won’t deny that.” Lucas chuckled, his eyes locking onto Clara’s face. “I’m a fool for you.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Get lost in the maze yesterday?” Kellan asked as he met Clara at the village entrance.

  She shook her head, frowning. “A friend of mine got hurt ... and so I spent the day with him.” And had used it to trap her into an afternoon of cards with not only him, but his siblings as well. She’d learned to play Whist and Cribbage, and had even won a few hands of the latter, though the men had teased her, saying that it was a good thing they weren’t playing for money or she would have been cleaned out.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Kellan took her hand and inhaled, expecting her sweet scent. He frowned when it came to him mixed with another, darker scent—a man’s scent. It must have been her friend she was talking about, and he was surprised to find his hackles rising; he didn’t like it one bit. Something in the back of his mind niggled, but he suspected his emotions were simply a product of the mating bond, and he brushed it off.

  “Everything is very quiet today,” Clara murmured, looking around. There were few people outside, and yet she felt as if there were many more eyes on her. She caught a glimpse of someone peeking at her through a curtained window before the person pulled back, the curtains concealing them with a swish of floral-patterned cloth.

  “Does your village ever have to go into town to buy supplies?”

  Kellan blinked, looking down. “Why do you ask?”

  Clara pointed at the curtains. “The pattern on those curtains is very modern—it looks like perhaps something bought in a merchant’s store rather than woven by hand.”

  Kellan laughed. “My sister, Leah, would be pleased to hear you say that. She is the town seamstress and weaver, and most likely made the cloth for those. But we very rarely go into town for anything unless it is an item we absolutely cannot make on our own. We prefer to be self-sufficient. And the less frequent are trips, the less likely anyone can follow us back and discover our location.”

  Clara nodded. “If your sister truly can do such things with her own two hands, I think I would like to meet her.”

  “I was just going to take you to her.”

  Leah’s cabin was only three buildings away from Kellan’s, and Clara could already tell from the outside that it belonged to a woman—the scent of baking bread wafting out from one of the open windows, the potted flowers in the sills and by the door, and the frilly curtains. Windows of a house were like the eyes of a human—you could look at or into them and see the soul residing within.

  Kellan stepped up and, placing Clara slightly behind him, knocked on the door. It opened only seconds later to reveal a small, slender woman with dark, curly hair pulled back from a pretty face. Her eyes, the same brilliant green as her brother’s, smiled warmly at him, then turned curious as they settled on Clara. She wore a dress only a few shades lighter than her hair that was covered with an apron.

  “Kellan.” Leah wrapped her arms around him, and Clara noticed that her sleeves had been rolled up to the elbows—likely to avoid coating them in the flour that dusted her hands. The exposed forearms were slender, but also muscular, and Clara imagined that Leah was probably a woman who could handle herself in an attack. Kellan hugged her back gently, not seeming to care that his shoulders were being dusted with flour. “It’s nice of you to stop by, and to bring your mate too.”

  “I’m not his mate,” Clara blurted out before she could stop herself—she didn’t know why, but it seemed important for her to make that clear. “Or, at least not yet. I haven ‘t decided.”

  Leah raised her eyebrows as she stepped back. “So Kellan has told me. Why don’t the two of you come inside? I have a loaf that’s going to burn, and another one that’s ready to be baked.

  Clara followed Kellan inside the two-room cabin—one spacious area that had the kitchen and living area, and another room separated by the door she assumed was the bedroom. Leah moved past the counter, where a mound of dough was set out, and bent in front of the hearth to pull out the loaf. Her eyes were drawn to the loom set in the middle of the living area, where a woolen blanket seemed to be in the works. Her feet carried her over to it, and she allowed her fingers to play over the colorful threads.

  She looked up to see Leah standing a few feet away, watching her. “It’s beautiful,” Clara told her.

  Leah smiled slightly. “Still in the works, I’m afraid, but it’ll be a work to be proud of when I’m done with it. You’ve done weaving before?”

  Clara shook her head. “I’ve only ever worked with a needle and thread—embroidery and some mending.”

  Leah
clapped her hands together in a prayerful gesture and looked up. “Praise the gods, a woman that can use a needle and thread! You would be amazed at just how many women in our village come to me for this kind of work. They’re plenty good at other things—pottery, cooking, even carving—but the needle and thread are elusive. This alone, in my opinion, should get them to forgive you that you’re human.”

  “Leah.” Kellan coughed even as Clara’s lips twitched. “I don’t...”

  “... know if that’s the wisest thing to say?” Leah finished, propping her hands on her hips. “Maybe not, but you know I’ve always spoken what’s on my mind, and nothing is going to change that. Would you like to learn how to use a loom?” she asked, turning her attention back to Clara as though her brother had said nothing.

  The lip twitching became a full-on smile. “I do believe I would like to.”

  “Then let me wash my hands.”

  The two women sat at the bench together, and Leah showed Clara the basics—how the warp was loaded and the yarn reefed and layered. Then she showed her which levers to pull when and how to send the shuttle across, and soon Clara’s fingers were flying, the yarn seeming almost to weave itself as she guided the loom.

  “She’s a natural,” Leah said to Kellan with a grin.

  Shaking his head, Kellan couldn’t help but smile. “I’m glad you think so, but we really didn’t come so you could put Clara to work.”

  “Of course not.” Leah patted Clara gently on the shoulder. “Why don’t you and Kellan have a seat, and I’ll bring out some tea.”

  Clara rose. “It’s really no trouble at all. I think I would like to try using your loom again sometime.”

  “Be careful,” Kellan said, laughing. “If you keep saying things like that Leah might decide not to let you go.”

  Leah brought out tea and biscuits, and Clara bit into one of the warm, sugary pastries, sighing. It had been awhile since she’d had anything like this. “These are wonderful.”

  Leah smiled. “Not what you expected is it?”

  Clara frowned. “I’m not certain I know what you mean.”

  Leah sat, then picked up her own cup and sipped the steaming hot tea. “You were expecting a crude lifestyle—tasteless food, sparse décor, harsh living conditions...us being animals and all.”

  “Leah,” Kellan began, the word both a warning and a plea, but Clara shook her head and held up a hand.

  “It’s alright,” she said, keeping her eyes on his sister. “To be honest, I really had no idea what to expect. I’d never once imagined anything like this in all of my life. It feels surreal, as though I’m living in some fairy tale. You are all so kind, so unbelievably decent.”

  Leah smiled again, but this time it was a full, open one. “I really do hope you don’t let her go,” she said, turning to her brother, “because even if you haven’t made up your mind, I have. I want to keep her.”

  They all laughed.

  * * *

  The next day Clara arrived, the village seemed less hostile. When she stepped out of the maze and walked to Kellan’s cabin, she still felt eyes on her, but the stares were no longer openly hostile—or at least, not all of them. Most of the villagers still looked upon her with mistrust, or at least caution, but none of them looked as though they were ready to chase her out with a broom—or worse. Clara wasn’t certain what brought along the change, but she suspected it had something to do with how well her visit had gone with Leah.

  Kellan met her halfway to his cabin, and Clara’s heart sped up a bit as he took her hand and kissed it. The afternoon sunlight shone through the trees and glanced off his thick, brown hair, giving it a lustrous sheen, and his green eyes glowed warmly. Several days growth of beard shadowed his jaw, giving him a rugged, woodsman look. She found herself instinctively comparing it with Lucas’s sunbaked complexion and sizzling blue eyes, and shook her head. Was she actually considering a choice between the two men?

  “Is something wrong?” he asked, lowering her hand and giving her a quizzical look.

  “I was just thinking that you are far too handsome for your own good,” Clara said, and smiled, knowing it was not a lie and he wouldn’t be able to contest it.

  Sure enough, Kellan grinned. “You’re just flattering me in the hopes of trying to distract me,” he said, taking her hand and tugging her along into walking beside him. “Not that I’m complaining. But it seems there is something on your mind.”

  Clara smiled ruefully even as she cursed inside—it seemed that his perception of her ran beyond physical signs; but then, so had his sister’s. “I’m just wondering what it will take to get your village to be more at ease around me,” she said, which was true enough.

  Kellan squeezed her hand gently, and Clara found she liked having her hand in his—it was warm and strong, and felt a good fit. “They’ll come around as they get to know you better. You’ve already made a bit of progress during your visit with Leah yesterday. She told some of the village women about you after you’d left yesterday. Leah is respected, and the villagers trust her judgment. You will just have to show them that she wasn’t in error with her words.”

  Clara nodded. “I’m nervous. Your people have every right to hate me.” And there was always the possibility that she would reject Kellan, and then what? Would there be any point in trying to be accepting by a people she wasn’t even going to be living with anyway?

  “The fact that you are willing to admit that is proof enough that you are a decent person.” Kellan smiled. “Trust me, you will win them over eventually.” They stepped inside his cabin. “Wait here for just a moment,” he told her, and then went into his bedroom.

  As Kellan ducked inside, he had to admit to himself that she was winning him over too. No, he amended as he sat down on the edge of his bed for a moment to think. She had already won him over. No longer was he thinking about trying to impress her simply for the sake of the mating ritual. He was constantly looking for her smile, for the flash of approval in her eyes. When he’d brought her over to his sister to visit, he’d actually found himself getting jealous over how much of Clara’s attention Leah had taken up. It was ridiculous, considering that his sister was no threat to his success with the ritual, and only proved to him that his head and his hormones weren’t the only thing involved.

  After he’d walked Clara back to the maze, he’d asked his sister for advice on what to do the next time she came. He had little experience with courting females, and never in his life though he would be trying to win over a human. He knew that he needed to spend more time with her alone, but that he needed some sort of agenda or his mind would quickly follow in the direction of his overactive hormones. Not that he would mind it very much, but when he finally did take Clara to his bed, he wanted her to be willing in every possible way.

  Looking up, his eyes settled on the package his sister had left on his bedside table for him, and smiled. Leah was the most reliable person he’d ever met—and the only family he had left. She was just as saddened by that fact as he was, which was another reason she was so keen to have Clara around—if she did accept him as her mate, it would give him the chance to finally expand their dwindling line.

  Clara was wondering what was taking Kellan so long when he finally emerged. Her eyes settled on the long, rectangular box tucked beneath his arm, and her eyebrow quirked. “A present for me?”

  He nodded, holding it out to her. “I thought I might teach you how to use it today.”

  Curious, Clara opened the package to find a longbow and a quiver full of arrows. Excitement and surprise pulsed through her veins as she gingerly lifted the bow from the box, running her hands down the glossy wood, gently plucking at the string.

  “Of all the gifts I’ve ever received,” she murmured, “this is certainly the most unusual one.”

  “I was hoping to distinguish myself.” Kellan smiled crookedly. “Though admittedly a bow is much easier to come by than the trinkets and baubles I’m sure a lady like yourself is used to.”<
br />
  Clara looked up. “It also carries much more meaning than any silly, frivolous item picked up in a boutique or shop.” She smiled at him. “Especially since you are going to teach me how to use it.”

  “That’s the plan.” Kellan said, his eyes lighting up, and Clara noticed for the first time the tension in his shoulders as they relaxed—he’d been nervous. The thought warmed her, not because she wanted to see his discomfort, but because he always seemed so confident, so assured, that it was nice to know he was just as human as she—or at least in the ways that counted.

  Kellan grabbed his own bow, which was significantly larger and heavier-looking than hers. He led her outside the village and into the woods to an area he had set up for target practice—a small clearing with a trio of shooting targets nailed to a row of trees.

  “Let me help you with that,” he said as Clara struggled to adjust the length of the quiver strap. He fixed it for her and then slipped It over her back, and Clara shivered slightly as the back of one of his hands gently brushed the underside of her breast as he adjusted the strap over her chest. He helped her string her bow, and then swiftly did his and hefted it up.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  Clara nodded. “I think so.”

  “Good.” He straightened. “You’re right-handed?” She nodded. “Then you’re going to grip the longbow here with your left hand—“ he indicated the grip with his right hand as he wrapped the fingers of his left hand around it, “and you’re going to nock your arrow here and make sure the shaft is resting just here against your finger.” He pointed as he worked, and Clara watched closely. “Then you pull back with your string, making sure your elbow comes straight back—” he did so, the muscles in his arms bunching, “look for your target, and release.”

  He released the bowstring and the arrow shot through the air almost faster than Clara’s eyes could follow, landing with a solid thwack in the middle of the target. “Bulls-eye,” he said, lowering his bow with a satisfied smile before turning to her. “Your turn now.”