by Kyle, Celia
Mate Hunted
Alpha Marked
Celia Kyle
Contents
Blurb
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
About the Author
Blurb
Thirty and single? Well, getcha ass to the Gathering! Wait… what?
Rebecca Twynham hates nature, loves a juicy steak, is not Marked, and thinks wolves come in one form: on four feet and with fur. So when she’s hauled to the annual werewolf Gathering by this scary as hell magical vortex, she’s pretty surprised to find out werewolves are real. With that new knowledge, she finds she still hates nature, she’d love a juicy steak, and maybe—she might be—Marked. Well, she doesn’t see a Mark, but she also has heavy scarring from a childhood accident—or was it intentional? Plus, she really wants to climb the gorgeous Alpha Pair, Aidan and Carson, like a tree. Luckily the two hot werewolves wanna sink their roots into her flower and… The nature analogies have gone too far.
Aidan and Carson have been a strong Alpha Pair for fourteen years. They’re tied together by their bond, and ache to claim a woman as their own. But while Carson has always been the GQ ladies’ man, Aidan has been the afterthought—the heavily scarred and frightening werewolf who’s caused more than one woman to faint.
When they find Rebecca hiding in the Bad Doggie ballroom, they rejoice that they’ve finally found the one for them. Except with curvaceous, delicious Rebecca, their roles are reversed. Instead of rushing into the arms of sleek and sexy Carson, Rebecca clings to Aidan. Carson should rejoice in her acceptance of Aidan, but jealousy rears its ugly head, destroying their triad before it has a moment to form.
Then things go from jealousy-driven bad to worse when the five families decide there won’t be any more Wickhams joining the wolfy family trees.
Oh, right, she forgot that part. Apparently her Wickham cousins are kind of a big deal in werewolf land. Big.
Chapter One
Blog post by Ruling Alpha Mate Scarlet Wickham on July 21, 8:01 a.m.…
Welcome to the Gathering!
Welcome, welcome! The Ruling Alphas and the awesomeness that is the Ruling Alpha Mate are thrilled you could be here!
This is the first year Warden Pairs will be attending the Gathering in search of their mates, and it is a momentous occasion. Please keep in mind that with the addition of Warden Pairs, the Gathering will also host women who are Warden Born. Not all ladies are hunting a hot hunk of demanding love, guys, so keep the drool in your mouths. Also, not all females are comfortable in their fur-attracting skin quite yet. Take it easy on them.
Another thing to keep in mind is that all laws in place which protect the Alpha Marked also apply to Warden Born. In the event you are not aware of the intricacies of those laws, Gabriella Wickham is more than willing to explain them to you in detail. Her very scary mates are on hand to assist her.*
Have a wonderful weekend and may you all find your mates!
Scarlet Wickham
Ruling Alpha Mate and H.B.I.C.**
*Disclaimer: Activities associated with the Gathering can at times involve substantial risk of injury, property damage, and other dangers. Dangers particular to such activities include, but are not limited to: hypothermia, drowning, broken bones, strains, sprains, bruises, concussion, heart attack, heat exhaustion, cuts, abrasions, burns, electrical shock, poisoning, and blunt trauma. By participating in and attending the Gathering, you agree not to hold the Gathering organizers or other attendants liable for such damage including, but not limited to, the above. You break it, but we still ain’t buying it.
**H.B.I.C.: Head Bitch In Charge
~~≈~~
Blog post by Ruling Alpha Mate Scarlet Wickham on July 21, 8:10 a.m.…
Welcome to the Gathering Part Two
It has been brought to my attention that not all women summoned to the Gathering have experienced orientation prior to said summoning. In the event you encounter a distressed female, please direct her to the Grand Ballroom on the third floor.* Gathering organizers (and therapists) are on hand to assist the attendees during this transitional time.
Have a wonderful weekend and may you all find your mates!
Scarlet Wickham
Ruling Alpha Mate and H.B.I.C.**
*Disclaimer: Activities associated with the Gathering can at times involve… blah, blah, blah, see all that crap in the last post.
**H.B.I.C.: Head Bitch In Charge
~~≈~~
Mass text message by Ruling Alpha Mate Scarlet Wickham on July 21, 8:23 a.m.…
There are bitches with guns. Some of them may or may not look like me. Cover your balls and hide. And text me back. They. Are. Crazy. Also, new disclaimer includes bullet wounds and human-wolf rabies. Peace out.
~~≈~~
Mass text message by Ruling Alpha Mate Scarlet Wickham on July 21, 8:37 a.m.…
Maybe you didn’t get it. Totally cray cray and they may or MAY NOT look like me. Get them. Bring them. Do not pass go, and no sniffing butts! Penises should not touch orifices prior to orientation, furballs! Also, new new disclaimer includes idiots getting kicked in the balls because they don’t understand simple directions. I’m out.
Chapter Two
Dirt was the most horrible thing ever created. It smelled and got everywhere and itched when it dried—which meant Rebecca had been wet at some point—and was all around gross. She wanted a shower and a bed. Now. She glanced at the man stomping along the trail beside her, at his wide smile and the way he hadn’t tripped over every tree root known to man.
The bed would be empty. Very empty. The vast emptiness of the empty couldn’t even be put into words it’d be so empty.
The guy grinned at her, his brown hair flopping over his eyes. Had she thought that was adorable?
“Isn’t this awesome?” Tony? Timmy? Joseph! Hah! It didn’t sound anything like those “T” names, but she finally got it right. So, Joseph spoke.
“Oh, awesome.” She plastered a totally fake, painstakingly practiced smile on her lips. It wasn’t a happy one. No, it was the one that said “are you fucking kidding me?” It was kinda toothy and big and her eyes were open wide.
Joseph, the lovely Joseph, who apparently could only read books and not people, seemed to perk up. “I know, right? And around the bend we’ll see…”
He was talking nature again. Which, to be fair, they were surrounded by the wondrous world of Faunsdale Nature Preserve, so it made sense.
Why, oh why, had she agreed a hike through the preserve was a good idea? When she’d said yes, she’d managed to sound excited over the phone. And maybe she had been. A little anyway. After all, it’d been a while since she’d jumped into the dating pool. It was as if she played the hokey pokey with her love life. She’d put her left foot in, get it bitten by a blood-sucking evil snake, then pull it out and shake it the fuck about.
Snakes. She bet there were snakes in the woods. Evil blood-sucking ones who walked on two legs.
Joseph pulled ahead of her—his longer legs meant bigger strides—and she stared at his back. Was he one of those kinds of men?
It didn’t matter one way or the other. After all this back to nature stuff, she was all about not having a second date with him. If this was first-date material, she’d crumble into a fluffy heap of “kill me now” on the next one.
“Coming?” he yelled back to her.
Not likely.
Rebecca cleared her throat. “Yeah, right behind you!”
Like
fifteen feet. Okay, thirty.
Then that expanded further and… Was he getting taller?
A large brown and green sign announced they were climbing Fwansis Hill.
All right, she’d reached planet Kill Me Now.
“Joseph?” He did not turn around. “Joseph?” She raised her voice and he turned toward her, massive smile in place.
“What’s up?”
Rebecca waved at the sign. “I thought this trail was a three on the difficulty scale?” She tried to keep the accusation out of her voice. She didn’t want to piss him off, he was her ride home, after all. “This sign says the hill and beyond is six plus.”
“Oh,” he shrugged. “You were doing so awesome. I thought we’d go a little farther. There’s this great clearing on the other side. We can eat our lunch there.”
Now he bounced on his toes like a kid waiting to open Christmas presents. Exhausted as all get out, she moved to follow him.
Doing awesome? Hardly. When he’d told her of his plans, she figured she’d be fine. Hiking was probably harder than walking on a treadmill, but she also did Water Zumba when she wasn’t working on her slowly ambling cardio. The hike should have been cake.
Mmm… cake.
She so deserved cake after this.
Hefting her backpack higher on her shoulder, she trudged after the man. She forced one foot in front of the other, ignoring the dampness of her socks. Stupid rain with its stupid wetness.
Joseph reached the peak before her and disappeared over the other side. No matter, it wasn’t like she’d get lost. The trail was so worn it made her path clear. Plus, some parts were paved and benches were placed sporadically along the route.
For people like her.
She passed one such bench and eyed it longingly. What she wouldn’t give…
“Rebecca?” Joseph’s voice reached her, and she sighed.
“Coming. Gimme—” A million years. “—a minute!”
“I’ll get our lunch set out!”
Or he could come back down the damned hill, pick up her fluffy ass, and carry her to their picnic spot.
Ahem.
Instead of pouring out her frustrated, borderline rage-y heart, she imbued her tone with sugary sweetness. She’d already established he didn’t get the finer nuances of the Rebecca language. “Sounds awesome!”
No other shouts came over the hill and Rebecca sighed. This was definitely the first date and last. If a hike through the forest was this guy’s idea of a good time, it so wasn’t going to work.
Rebecca slogged over the rise, tempted to let her backpack fall from her shoulders and drag on the ground, but she kept it in place. She imagined she already looked a ragged mess, no sense in adding to the disgusting picture she painted.
She spied Joseph off to her right, standing near the tree line, and it was the first time she realized the forest didn’t surround her any longer. No, the dense trees were on her right, but the left was open and cleared, giving her a perfect view of the preserve. Not all of it, but at least they got a good look at the valley below. The area was filled with flowers and a brook cut a path along the edge. It was a gorgeous sight.
Especially the water. Could she rinse off? Or rather, dump her whole hot and sweaty ass in?
“I decided to wait since it’s kinda hidden. Didn’t want you to get lost. This way, it’s close.”
Close? Close she could do. And at least kinda hidden meant passing hikers wouldn’t see her collapse and mistake her sudden flop as a reason to call forest rescue. She was exhausted, not broken. Plus, no matter how hot the rescue guys probably were, it would be insanely expensive to have them come get her. Her insurance sucked.
“Lead on.” She waved her hand and he… smiled.
Did the man never stop?
It turned out his “close” was about a hundred yards while hers was fifty feet.
But they got there and the first thing she did when she spied the picnic blanket was collapse on the thing. The red and white checkered cloth bunched beneath her. Yeah, she probably shouldn’t lie down because she was so dirty, but whatever.
Joseph-the-Ever-Happy plopped beside her, and she noted the man didn’t even have a hint of sweat on his brow. He was going down. Deader than a doornail. He was all healthy and in shape. She’d first poison him by introducing chocolate cake to his diet.
And then bacon. No one could resist bacon. It was like the Borg from Star Trek. Any second now biomechanical humanoids would come marching out of the forest. “Resistance is futile. You will eat fattening chocolate.”
“Rebecca?”
She groaned and raised her head. “Sorry. Needed a second.” She pushed herself up and swung her backpack from her shoulder. It took no time to settle on the blanket like a normal person, and then the picnic got underway.
Joseph chatted about… something nature-y while Rebecca became slowly aware of a common theme for their lunch.
“Um, Joseph?”
“Yup.” He dug into his pack again, tugging out yet another container. The man’s bag was bottomless like Mary Poppins’s. Except Mary Poppins didn’t bring a vegetarian lunch. Like Joseph had.
Vegetarian. Not a sandwich or hint of lunch meat in sight.
“It looks like you went to a lot of trouble,” she gulped when a container of celery appeared. “You could have slapped together some ham sandwiches.”
He froze and swung his wide-eyed gaze to her. “Meat?” He gasped. “Never. I’m vegan, I thought you knew that. Catherine introduced us, and she’s…”
Rebecca’s coworker and a total plant eater. Nice.
Rebecca shook her head and slapped on another of those smiles. “Sorry, you’re right. I completely spaced.”
She was so going to the burger joint down the street from her house when this date was over.
Her comment earned her what? Another smile.
Joseph reached the bottom of his bag—at least she hoped it was the bottom since she’d cry if she saw yet another veggie—and came out with… a white envelope?
She prayed he wasn’t one of those weirdoes who was all super appreciative for a date and handed out thank-you cards. How weird would that be?
She swallowed her moan. Barely.
“What’s this?” he murmured and extended it toward her. “It’s addressed to you.”
Of course it was. Because you’re a weirdo card giver!
With a chuckle, she slid it from his hand and then really did release her moan. The lettering was familiar, the calligraphy easily recognizable.
Rebecca Digory Twynham.
Like all the others, there was no street or return address. It was as if someone simply plopped it in her way.
And now it had been dumped in Joseph’s bag.
She sighed. She was totally going to the police station when this date was over. But not before the fast food joint. A girl could not subsist on celery alone.
“Rebecca?”
Rebecca blinked and suddenly remembered she wasn’t alone. “Sorry, what?”
He raised his eyebrows and gestured at the envelope. “What’s up with that? How’d it get in my bag? Are you going to open it?”
“No idea, no idea, and no.” Because she already knew what it said.
The Ruling Alphas of the North American Packs cordially demand…
He frowned and opened his mouth, but she cut him off.
“Look, there’s some weird… person…”—she waved the envelope—“leaving these around. I have no idea who it is or anything. It’s just…” She sighed. “I’m going to the police station as soon as we finish our date.”
“How many have you gotten? Are you sure it’s the same person? Maybe it’s a mistake.”
Ah, how she loved blindly trusting people. Plus, it was addressed to her. Her full, utterly hated, name. Digory? Really?
Rebecca flipped the envelope and slid her finger beneath the flap, breaking the seal without a problem. “I’m ninety-nine percent sure it’s the same, but if it makes you
feel better…” She tugged the single card from its sheath. It was thick and firm, like all the others. Her psycho writer didn’t cheap out on cardstock. She recognized the gold ink and swirling script. He was also consistent in his font choices. He should break it up a little. There was no law against interspersing a few variations. She cleared her throat before she began reading.
“‘The Ruling Alphas of the North American Packs…’” She looked to Joseph. “The sender is a little crazy.” When he frowned at her attempt at humor, she went back to reading. “‘Demand.’ Nothing new there. He’s been demanding since day one.”
“How long ago was that?”
Rebecca frowned and thought back. “I got the first one on my birthday a few weeks ago.” She shrugged. “Anyway, they demand. Not ‘cordially’ this time, though. Demand I attend this ‘Gathering’ thing and then when I finish reading this summons…” That was new… she kept scanning the “summons,” following along until she got to the bottom. “‘You will be immediately transported to the Wolfson Hoooo…’”
The breeze suddenly picked up, whipping her with its force and assaulting her with pellets of dirt—she fucking hated dirt—as it encircled her. She clutched her backpack, fisting the water-resistant fabric. The strength of the air almost ripped it from her grasp, but she tightened her hold further. The world around her dimmed until darkness surrounded her. The wind still battered her body, shoving her this way and that, while the ground dropped from beneath her. Or did she rise?
Who cared? The ass was not on the floor. Period. There was no hard surface-to-ass connection.
It was as if she floated in a sea of black—and wasn’t that all poetic.
