Beaufort Creek Shifters (10 book series) -
The Alpha’s Pregnant Bride Chapter 2
Skye
I knew a setup when I saw one. And this one was led by my two best friends. My alleged best friends. Because I was dumber than a sack of bricks and I would follow them just about anywhere.
Jada and Laurencia stood on either side of me in case I got any bright ideas about running off. At this point in her pregnancy, Jada was sensitive to shifting, which meant she would do it less often. But given that her legs were accustomed to bouncing and jumping with all that interpretive dancing, I had no doubt that she could chase me down in a heartbeat. Pregnant women could be scary. I wasn't about to test her.
I wandered after Laurencia, who had bounced ahead. Her bubbly attitude was getting on my nerves. And that juniper she insisted on burning was irritating my nostrils. Patience was my bread and butter, yet my friends knew just how to chafe it.
Much like I was chafing my own arm. Less out of anxiety, more out of irritation.
One more sigh. An eyeroll. A gaze that could burn like a toaster overheating bread. "You two think you're slick, huh?"
"Alpha's orders," Laurencia chimed. She waved the smudge stick in front of me. "Must make sure you're protected."
"I've showered, you overzealous twat," I snapped.
She rattled to a halt-which was a funny thing to witness, I had to admit. The way her spine went rigid, her arms stiffening at her sides, made her look like one of those cyborg puppet things I saw on the Al art channels all the time. A quick wave of the smudge stick had incense burning the hairs right out of my nostrils.
Overzealous as hell and ready to get smacked in the head, that was what was happening. Full stop.
"Girl, if you don't drop that in the ocean, I'll-"
Jada touched my upper arm. A soothing energy dragged me right back to the earth and forced me to plant my feet firmly on the ground. Call it magic. Call it motherly energy. Whatever it was called, I didn't care. It just worked.
Alright, so maybe I cared a little bit about how she managed to wrestle me into gear. She spared me a sympathetic gaze and then nodded to the path that snaked into the wall of trees. Waves crashed on the other side. That thin veil of forest leading to the ocean would spit us out onto the dunes.
Just a month ago, Jada had gotten married out there. Proposed, ritualed, married. Whatever the terms were, they weren't important, and not necessarily in that order. She was a smart cookie with a sharp mind and a heart like one of those fancy Build-A-Bear stuffed animals. I swore her heart was made with stuffing, like somebody had patched in enough love for three lifetimes.
Like someone had taken the time to stuff her properly and mend her seams.
It'd be pretty nice if someone could do that for me. I'd seen better days. And while brighter days were ahead of me, I was sure, I had plenty to juggle on my plate already.
Adding a mate to the mix wasn't going to ease my worries. It was going to exacerbate them.
"Wipe that sour look off your face now," Jada teased gently. "That's no way to meet your future mate." "You're the one who should be backing me up here," I complained.
And I knew I was whining. Pretty soon, I'd probably start griping. But somebody had to stand up for me aside from my brother. While he had been off fighting vampires, and later on slaying those lab-created dire wolves, I was shoved into a bunker and told to protect my ovaries. Because somebody had to carry on the family name, according to him.
This was just another one of those plots to get me to reproduce. Every boyfriend from my past had gone about it as sneaky as anybody, setting up fancy dinners and bombarding me with gifts and such. No doubt this Troy fella would be doing much the same. Jada squeezed my forearm while nudging me toward the path. "It's dinner. You'll get used to him. You might even fall in love with him."
"You hated this."
"I won't deny that."
I grabbed her hand, winding her fingers up as tightly as she'd allow, because I was frightened and I didn't know what to do. Admitting my fear to her wasn't going to do anything. The gods couldn't do anything about it. I just had to trudge ahead and hope the alpha of the Bravecrests wasn't one of those weird guys who wanted me to become a traditional wife and never speak to my friends again.
Sure enough, I'd met plenty of those guys in the past. Humans weren't the only ones who were weird about their lifetime partners. Wolves could be a hoot about it too. Older folks in particular were heavy on the commitment part-for the wife, of course. The husband could do whatever he wanted because he was in charge, he protected the family, he was stronger, blah, blah, blah.
My alpha wasn't like that. And if Blake was assigning me to another alpha-a truly wide gesture, that was for sure-then he had likely vetted the guy ten times over. I had to hope. I had to hope beyond hope that my alpha wouldn't toss me to the wolves. Both literally and figuratively.
"Come on," Jada encouraged. "Not too much farther."
"So, just dinner?" I asked, trying not to chafe anymore. My skin was starting to burn. "Nothing else?"
She grinned while ducking under a low-hanging branch. "Whatever you want to do with him is up to you."
"Bang him if I want-heard."
Laughter bubbled around us. Laurencia had heard, of course, and she was waving that smudge stick like it would prevent the end of days. Funny enough, it was like she was heralding the end of my days with that stinky thing. With all her blessings and protection chants, I didn't feel one lick closer to being safe from the expectations of this Bravecrest alpha, my brother, and my alpha. All the men in my life wanted me to reproduce. Wasn't that just creepy?
Jada patted my upper back, guiding me off the path and away from the beach. Well, that was a twist I hadn't anticipated. Was this a setup within a setup? The turducken of setups?
"Just ahead," she whispered. She paused on the path and nudged me forward. "Go on with Rencia. She'll be your guide."
"She'll give me a nosebleed with all this smudging," I whined, yet I followed Jada's instruction because she would never lead me astray.
Even if it felt that way sometimes.
I sighed as I marched through the cloud Laurencia left in her wake. She skipped and hopped, danced, and trotted, stopping near a patch of thick bushes, and waving her stick extra hard. Clouds billowed up from the burning juniper and thickened the air. She wiggled her fingers through the tendrils of gray and whispered, "Just over there."
"Where?"
"The ladder, stinky."
I shook my head. "You're the one stinking up the whole dang forest with that smelly nonsense. Don't forget you're not a witch."
"Tell that to my hybrid ancestors."
"Don't get me started on your ancestors, girl."
While sliding past her, she tapped my shoulder lightly, two gentle pats that encouraged me to reach through the bushes and grab at whatever was back there. Which happened to be nothing. As I turned to protest this ridiculous stunt, Laurencia shoved me through the bushes, and I tumbled forward like one of those roly-poly things when they get offended by someone touching them.
Leaves stuck to my hair. Twigs jammed into my t-shirt collar and stuck to my butt. I stood up and swiped my hands over my legs, giving them a good once-over so I didn't look crummy for my fake date. That was pretty much how I saw this whole thing-fake. Setups were always fake things. Blind dates were false pretenses.
Besides, what would an alpha like him want with a girl like me? I wasn't even out of college yet. I was probably ten years younger than him, maybe more, which meant that my earlier assumption about reproduction had to be on the nose. Older guys only wanted younger women for two things: social status and babies.
And since I didn't have social status...
"Up here, stinky," called a faint voice.
My right eyebrow went up, then my left eyebrow, then I tilted my chin to the canopy above. Amber eyes stared down at me from an open hatch in a treehouse. A rope was tossed down, dangling in front of me like a limp snake. More than anything, I felt the strong inclination to yank on the rope and pull that conspiring jerk down to the ground.
But I knew better than to offend the cousin of the alpha who I was about to meet. And while Elias got on my nerves, he was largely harmless.
I shrugged off my irked attitude and snatched the rope, scaling the notches like they were nothing. Elias hoisted me up the rest of the way. Standing beside him made him look less like a jerk and more like his cousin minus his right pupil housing a few white dots. Other than that, the almond-brown locs and smirk reminded me of Troy.
Can I switch mates? I thought. Mostly as a joke. This one is younger, easier on the eyes, probably kinder.
Elias squinted at me and then gestured behind me. When I turned around, I was faced with his mirror-but much taller-with an impressive presence. Silver beads decorated his locs. Brawny muscles stretched his slate-gray V-neck taut and his black jeans hung low, revealing a patch of his toned stomach.
Black ink decorated his upper left arm. It looked like a wizard from this angle, but with the candlelight flickering and playing tricks, it was hard to say. There was plenty more ink where that came from. It made me wonder about the rest of his body. Elias cleared his throat. "This way, madam."
He motioned to my arm, indicating he was about to loop his own through it, and I growled at him as low as I could muster without being too rude. "Don't push your luck, sonny."
"Feisty," he joked, though there was a layer of anxiety under there somewhere. He swept his arm wide and smiled radiantly. "Welcome to the treehouse. I'll be your waiter today. Laurencia will be providing the atmosphere-" A crash echoed from below. Yep, that was Laurencia, handling the atmosphere. Who put her in charge of that?"-and as soon as she gets up here, we'll get dinner started."
I had to hand it to them-this was a decent idea. A treehouse near the ocean would be cool enough without being too muggy. The atmosphere was chill. Two windows decorated with white lace curtains overlooked the rest of the forest. Finely sanded boards made up the studio-esque room, and a table in the center was draped in a crimson cloth. Candles were lit every which way I turned. It was a fire hazard, but nobody seemed worried, so I had to assume they might have been spelled to stay contained or something. Without anybody touching me or prodding me, I approached the table. I leaned against the back of the chair-my chair, presumably-and focused on Troy, noticing the subtle twitch of his cheek that preceded his smile and the humble way he bowed his head. His eyes closed with the gesture. It was like he was showing me respect.
Well, it wasn't like that was new or anything. "We might as well get this over with."
One soft chuckle from him was all it took to weaken my knees. Thank all the gods lingering here in these woods that I had a chair to catch me and make it look like hesitance rather than a loss of limb control.
Troy lowered himself slowly as if he was reverently preserving his energy. Was that what good alphas did? It wasn't like I kept up with that kind of stuff. I smoothed my hands over the clothed table, noticing the softness and richness of the fabric, feeling like I'd suddenly stepped from the forest into a posh restaurant.
Music started up from somewhere in the room. I had to guess the speakers were hidden in the corners. Orchestra music, soft and benevolent, surrounded me. The notes laced through the air and lulled my muscles into a relaxed state. Scents came next-baked cod with a dash of lemon, spices, herbs, and a woody blend of tobacco, topped with some of that wretched juniper. I had to thank Laurencia for burning that into my senses.
The tobacco was a nice touch. It made everything feel cozier in here, like I was sitting in a cabin-style restaurant instead of a treehouse. In just a matter of minutes, I was in a totally different mindset with my guard dropped.
And when I looked at Troy, I felt like I had known him for ages.
Which didn't make a lick of sense, considering I'd seen this man about a hundred times. I'd never felt anything around him. Did my alpha truly think our hearts were speaking to each other?
"I barely know a thing about you," I blabbed. "Blake says you're nice. The girls agree. Are you nice?"
Troy remained calm, almost passive to the question. He took a few minutes to reflect. "I think I'm nice. I'll let you draw your own conclusions."
"So, you're not going to try to dominate me like your boy did to my Jada?"
"Isaiah?" He practically chortled the name out. "He's got a hard head. He's willful and persistent. He can be a bit, uh..."
I crossed my arms over my chest. "A bit of an asshole?"
"He has his reasons. Though I don't assume those are excuses."
My arms shifted but I didn't drop them yet. I didn't understand how my guard could have toppled so easily in his presence. "Sure, that's true enough." "Blake tells me you're in college."
"I'm getting my vet degree."
He nodded approvingly. While my heart twitched with excitement and my slit ached, my brain struggled to figure out why that was arousing at all.
"I've been told you were fast-tracked," he continued. "I admire your commitment."
"Well, I don't cheat, and I have one of those photographic memories."
He broke eye contact. The mere action was alarming, drawing me toward him, almost causing me to leap across the table to grab his attention again as I rested my palms on either side of my plate.
Good golly, I didn't even see Elias put a plate in front of me. Troy and I had only been talking for a few minutes. How had I missed something vital about my environment in that time?
"You don't cheat," he repeated softly. "That's good."
"Do you think I cheat?"
He met my gaze. It eased my taut shoulders and inspired a proper seated position.
"No, I don't get that vibe from you," he replied. "You seem lovely, Skye. It's wonderful to meet you."
"And you."
I let myself get lost in his eyes. This was weird in so many ways. I didn't understand why I wanted him to look at me and only me. It wasn't like we were in public. We were the only two people in the room now, with Elias gone and Laurencia doing something underneath the treehouse that was likely going to start a fire. These better be spelled candles.
"You haven't touched your food," Troy pointed out. His tone implied concern. "Do you prefer something else for protein?"
I chuckled. "I love fish. I just can't..." I tried to blink, to breathe myself through whatever was happening to me. "I love fish."
"I'm glad to hear it. Try it."
Tender warmth drifted through my limbs and propelled me to move. I lifted my fork, dug into my lemon cod, and practically died over the delicious tanginess. Homemade mashed potatoes called my name next, and then the roasted baby carrots, and then the garden salad, and then the dinner rolls. All of it melted on my tongue. I felt like I was in some kind of wolf shifter heaven with the best meal, only getting better by the bite.
When I finished my plate, I dabbed my lips with a napkin and noticed how much Troy was smiling.
"What?" I covered my mouth. "Sweet baby goats, did I burp or something? Did I get a bunch of crap on my shirt?" I glanced south and found myself as clean as anyone could be after tumbling through the bushes. I frowned. "I'm so underdressed." "I'd rather you show up dressed comfortably as yourself."
I lowered my hand, feeling a medley of insecurities clotting up my throat. Or was that just a round of crying I hadn't yet released? "I don't get it. Aren't you going to tell me your demands?"
"I won't make any demands of you, Skye," he assured me. "You're my match as dictated by your alpha who is my friend. I trust him with my life." His eyes burned with affection. "And if he trusts you, then I trust you."
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