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“I am the alpha of this pack and you are my mate,” the truly enormous man who just walked into the kitchen announced.
For a moment, the words didn’t register to Quinn. She was standing at the stove portioning out grits for her and her daughter, who—thank all of the deities in existence—hadn’t wanted to come inside, was still on the porch, and hopefully hadn’t heard him.
Quinn dolled out another spoonful of the yellow-gold mush and met his eyes.
He was talking to her. He was coming toward her.
You are my mate…
She went cold.
He was about to reach her. She had no idea what she was going to do.
There was a cry from across the room, and a tiny woman flung herself at the man without a breath of fear. She murmured, “My son, my son!” into his solar plexus.
Quinn‘s brain wasn’t working fast enough. The tiny woman was Kathleen, the owner of the kitchen, the cooker of the grits, and apparently the mother of the man who thought he was her mate.
The spoon slipped nervelessly from her fingers.
There were general cries of welcome, dismay, and questions from the other people in the room, the wolves of the pack she just moved to.
Quinn had a moment to hope she could escape undetected when Kathleen finally let him go and asked, “Wait, what was that about a mate?”
As one, the entire room pivoted to look at her.
She laughed, but it wasn’t a sound she recognized.
“Can’t you feel it?“ the man asked.
“No!”
“You can’t feel it?“ he said doubtfully.
“No?“ she repeated and peered behind him to make sure a pair of blonde pigtails weren’t making an entrance. She pulled him past the kitchen into a corner of the dining room where they would still be in full view of everyone else, but hopefully not be overheard.
She rolled her eyes at herself. She’d only lived with shifters for a few weeks, but she’d already learned pretty much everything she said on pack land was going to be heard by someone, whether they wanted to or not.
This close, the man was even more overwhelming. He had to be over six feet tall with the kind of muscles a bodybuilder would envy and a beard just this side of scruffy. All of the wolves were absurdly fit, but he was the biggest and most intimidating and he smelled like woodsmoke and…
“No! I don’t feel it. It’s not true. And don’t ever say anything so insane again.“
For a moment a look of genuine pain flashed over his features, and she winced but hardened herself. She was no one‘s mate. She knew her sister believed there was some magical connection between witches and wolves. Olivia had settled down with another shifter on the land into an obnoxious happily ever after involving an abnormal amount of skinny-dipping, but Quinn just couldn’t believe it for herself.
The wolves in the pack did though. In the past few weeks, almost all of the single members of the pack had come to say hi. No one had just come out and claimed her.
“Stay the hell away from me.“
The man’s feet seemed to step back of their own accord, and something unclenched in her. He was going to take no for an answer.
“My wolf has scented you,“ the man said stiffly.
“Oh, well in that case, gross! Please do me the honor of staying the hell away from me.”
The man took another step back and bowed like this was another century. “Of course.”
Quinn took a breath. She knew there was no “of course” about it. By sheer size alone, this dude could do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted.
He didn’t move further, and she couldn’t seem to either.
Great, let’s just stare awkwardly at each other.
Now that he had stepped back, she could see his resemblance to the other Scott men. His hair was straight and darker than the dirty blonde of most of the wolves, but the bone structure was similar, and the changeable eyes, sometimes green and sometimes brown were hauntingly familiar.
Oh god, was he right?
He couldn’t be right.
She was fated for nothing but romantic catastrophe. She’d bought too many books on relationship success to believe anything else. She had zero relationship success. There had been her daughter’s father sophomore year of high school, who had declared his undying love at homecoming and broken up with her by prom. There had been a manager of the restaurant where she worked for years, which was probably just a tad less stupid choice than an alpha werewolf. Then there’d been a couple of regulars who had hardly been better. One single dad from her daughter’s preschool rounded out that sad tale.
None of them had lasted longer than months.
The book said she had an avoidant attachment style.
Gee, I wonder why….
She’d made a vow when she moved with her long-lost sister to this land deep in the Virginia woods with a bunch of werewolves to make good decisions and not stupid decisions.
In her book, a wolf was an automatic stupid decision. A wolf that announced she belonged to him without so much as a cup of coffee… She didn’t have a scale for how big of a stupid decision this would be.
“Thank you for nothing,“ she said sincerely. “I mean for doing nothing. Let’s never speak again. Except we can’t because if you’re home, that would make it awkward for the others. Let’s never speak of this ever again.“
She looked around him and saw everyone in the room unabashedly staring at them.
She met Kathleen‘s eyes, a witch who had been living amongst the pack for decades. She seemed ready to whack him with the ladle she held clutched in both hands but abruptly started stirring at the pot the moment their eyes met. As if that was a signal, everyone else seemed to find something else to do, and Quinn rushed out of there, feeling like she was escaping with her life.
She was almost at the door when a man stepped up to her.
“No, thank you, “she said automatically.
He held up his hands. “Hey, I just wanna make sure you’re okay. “
She met his eyes. He couldn’t be more different from the barbarian in the kitchen. He was shorter than most shifters and didn’t seem to have the muscle definition. He was willowy. His hair was on the blonder end of the spectrum, and he didn’t have the eyes.
“I don’t date wolves!“ she snapped.
“Okay, but I was genuinely just asking if you were okay. I know they can be a lot.“
She paused with her hand on the door handle. “Wait, they?”
“I don’t have a wolf. “
“I’m sorry,“ she said automatically.
“Are you though? Sorry?“ She swallowed. “I know that’s one of the things that’s important around here.” She knew women in a family full of witches who didn’t have magic and that was also an extremely hard life to live. She thought that being wolfless in a pack would be a similar challenge.
“Not to me. It’s not what you are. It’s what you do.“
“I like that. And yes I’m fine. He is going to leave me alone now.“
The man burst out laughing. “What? He’s a wolf. He found something to hunt. He’s never leaving you alone alone.“
The man had agreed, hadn’t he? Had he made any sign?
“Well, I’ll just tell him again.“
“Look, I’m Pete, at the risk of sounding like a come on which it totally isn’t. I live in the cabin down the hill from you, if you need a friend.”
Quinn sucked in a breath.
“Lovely, then,” he said with a quick smile. “I shall now back away slowly, just to prove that I can.”
Quinn was surprised at how much she genuinely needed that. “Thanks.“
“Us humans have to stick together.“
Quinn bit her lip before she told him she wasn’t exactly human. Most witches these days understood magical powers to be a genetic fluke in some families, predisposing some women to one bit of extra sensory perception or ability. Did that make her other than human?
She didn’t feel particularly special today. She felt like a juicy dog bone getting slobbered over.
Panic had her swinging the door open and searching wildly for her daughter. Hillary was on the porch speaking to another boy. She clamped down on her fear, knowing they could smell it.
“Hill!“
“Mom?“ Hillary‘s head snapped around at the sharpness of Quinn’s tone. Her daughter was eleven and shared her white blonde hair and blue eyes. She was already almost as tall as Quinn.
“Come along!“
When she didn’t move fast enough, Quinn dashed toward her and took her hand. She pulled her off the porch and down the hill. “But what about food?“
“We’ve got food at home. “
Granted, it would never be as good as Kathleen‘s or as free, but Quinn could put together cereal or something. The big house stood at the apex of the valley where the Scott pack had built a gigantic horse ranch. It was where most of the pack/ranch employees got their meals. A complex of stables and fields took up all of the available meadows, while trees and private dwellings filled the mountains on either side.
It was one of the reasons why, no matter how much wolves scared her, she hadn’t left. They just gave her the house as Olivia‘s sister and demanded no rent. She was finding odd jobs to do around the estate to try to pay them back. It felt like charity, but she couldn’t say no. The fact of the matter was that a woman with nothing but an 11-year-old and a GED did not find the kind of jobs that pay for their own house. This was the first time in her life she hadn’t shared a wall with anyone, and it was a peace she couldn’t give up.
She knew her fear of werewolves was overblown. Her sister had fallen in love with a man—Quinn couldn’t say mate and boyfriend sounded ridiculously unserious—who would chew his arm off before he harmed a hair on their heads, and he would happily stand between them and anyone else who tried it.
Quinn shuddered again. But now there was a stronger wolf in town, one who had declared himself alpha. What could Ellis do?
Her mouth went dry for reasons that had nothing to do with fear when she summoned a picture in her head, recalling the ridges of muscles she could see even under the T-shirt, and shook her head.
“Remember the part about good decisions?”
“We have to make good decisions,” Hillary recited, and Quinn winced. She had forgotten her own daughter as they hiked up the narrow path to the door of the tiny red cabin they’d been assigned in the woods.
They stepped into a room built of warm, yellow wood—both the furniture and the walls. The living room had been thrown together quickly and still looked impersonal. She brought so few possessions, but it was theirs. A kitchenette spanned one wall, and three doors led to two bedrooms and a bathroom.
Hillary had her own room. Another first.
No, she couldn’t flee the building because one crazy alpha werewolf insisted there was a magical connection between them.
“Anyway, you have to get going, girl,“ Quinn said brightly as she poured a bowl of cereal. There was a gas station half an hour away that had a pretty decent grocery section, otherwise, there was a real one an hour away, so she tried to put less into her bowl.
“Do I have to?“ Hillary said.
“Go to school? Um, yeah.“
“But I totally don’t. Nobody on the land goes to school. They have school here.“
Half the cereal spilled out of the bowl as she put it in front of her daughter.
“Hey!“
There weren’t that many children on the land. Everyone from kindergarten to high school was stuffed into the same schoolhouse as if this were the 1800s.
“No, we talked about this. “
“I wouldn’t have to go to that school, although I don’t know what’s wrong with it, but I believe you that it’s terrible,“ Hillary added quickly. “But couldn’t you teach me?“
Quinn grimaced. The rural school where Hillary was enrolled was a 45-minute bus ride away; that’s the reason they were in the kitchen at six. She knew Hillary hadn’t found friends yet, and the bus ride was hard on her. Could she actually homeschool?
That was a ridiculous thought. They were licensed educators, and she was a waitress with a GED.
“It wouldn’t be fair to you, baby.”
“They hate me.“
“You’re just new. Once they get to know you, nobody will ever hate you. Everyone loves you.“
“And why can’t everyone love me here? I like the kids here. And they don’t have to go on a bus forever.“
“Hill, you’ve said your piece, and I’ve said mine. What does that mean?”
“The end.” Hillary heaved a gusty sigh and stuffed her face with cereal. They had eggs and bacon to go with the grits at the house. That was a better breakfast. She’d have to get up even earlier.
“You’re gonna miss your bus.“
Hillary looked hopeful.
“And somebody is going to have to drive you.”
“You could always—”
“I have my work, baby.”
“Nobody said you had to work,“ Hillary said, proving you didn’t have to be a shifter to be extremely efficient at eavesdropping.
“Nobody gets anything for free.”
Quinn had a sneaking suspicion she would never actually have to work again; the horse racing business was absurdly lucrative, and they shared the proceeds with the pack. The alpha wolf would get quite a share…
She shook her head, shocked she would even contemplate such a thing. If fate was a terrible way to pick a husband, money was surely just as bad.
“Out the door, out the door!“ Quinn said and took a spoonful of cereal herself before ushering her daughter back toward the house.
When they got to the bottom of the path, they found Kathleen leaning against a truck.
“Ready to go, Hill?” she asked as Hillary sighed dramatically and heaved into the passenger seat.
Kathleen glanced at Quinn. “Malcolm is a really nice man, normally.“
His name was Malcolm.
Quinn froze. A new thought just occurred to her. “He’s your son. He’s the son of a witch?“
She knew Kathleen had children and had even met Aiden, though he mostly kept to himself on the other side of the land. She knew he had some kind of magic—the only man she’d ever heard of that did. He was a witch as well as a werewolf. It was even the right word? There was no word for what he was.
She gulped. That made him even more dangerous.
“If he bothers you again, I will hit him upside the head.“
“No, it’s okay. I know we have to live here in peace.“
“I whacked him upside the head already. It’s not like that something you can just tell from a photograph.”
Were they talking about this? Just discussing openly what should never be talked about again?
“That’s good to hear, “Quinn said automatically. Was it good to hear?
“What can’t you tell from a photograph?“ Hillary asked. “Can I whack someone upside the head?“
“Absolutely nothing,“ Quinn said as Kathleen said, “Absolutely not.”
“Thanks again for taking her. I’m saving up for a truck.”
“Always.“
“I’ll be here when you get home, honey. Have a good day at school.”
“You know I won’t,“ Hillary said stubbornly, and Quinn‘s heart broke just a little bit.
Should she just break down and let the werewolves teach her? Visions of dominance fights danced in her head. No. It was just too dangerous. Hillary‘s magic hadn’t even settled yet. She couldn’t even really defend herself.
“Wait! You’re wearing it?”
Hillary pulled her necklace off her neck and stuck it out the window just before Kathleen took off.
“Good girl,“ Quinn said and laced her fingers together.
Quinn didn’t know how much her little charms would actually protect her daughter, but it was the only thing she could do for her.
She shook off the constant conviction she was doing everything wrong. All of the books she read about motherhood told her that that was a normal feeling, but she couldn’t help thinking the author of, “How to raise a well-adjusted child,” had never dealt with alpha wolves.
