Filed To Story: Alpha's Regret: His Wrongful Rejection
Rodric, and then I urge Annie to hurry on before Delphie can pop her head out, and I catch the scolding meant for Leon.
On a normal day after a hunt, I’d check on the butchering first, so when we get to the clearing, I grab Annie’s hand and lead her toward the smoke shack. She lets me keep hold of it as we walk. My heart soars. I am very careful not to strut or grin like an idiot. If I act like this is an everyday thing, maybe Annie will see how it could be.
When we get to the smoke shack, Tarquin greets me, ducking his head at Annie. She blushes and shrinks closer to me, but she does say good morning and gives him a shy smile.
The elk has been skinned and sectioned, and the shank, shoulder, ribs, and brisket are already smoking. Tarquin has Elis slicing the top and bottom rounds for jerky.
“How is it going?” I ask Elis, not expecting a response. Like usual, he startles when I speak, even though he’s been watching me this whole time. I act like I didn’t notice. That’s how we handle his twitchiness.
Annie picks up on it, though. She frowns, her hand tightening on mine.
Shit. Does she think he’s afraid of me? That I’ve given him a reason? Or does she see me ignore his distress and remember how I didn’t credit hers?
Mates are a fucking landmine.
Maybe it doesn’t need to be that dire. I’m the dominant male here, Elis is scared, and despite her own fears, Annie has a strong protective instinct. She showed that when she leapt on little Efa’s wolf to save the pup from Alroy when he snarled like a bitch because Diantha got the best of him again. Annie’s wolf was defending the pup while she waited for me to handle shit.
I can do that. Handle shit is more or less what I do all day, every day.
I let Annie’s hand go, and padding forward very slowly, I approach Elis where he sits on a bench at the table we use for processing. His fear scent bursts into the air, strong enough to cut through the smell of smoking elk.
“What are we doing this time—garlic or honey glazed?” I ask, crouching beside him so I’m lower than his eyeline when he answers me.
He clears his throat. “Just a pepper rub on these.”
My stomach growls, totally unintended. Elis grins, his shoulders dropping a notch away from his ears.
“I get dibs, right?” I ask.
“Sure thing, Alpha,” he says, flashing me a faint smile. That’s better, but it’s not quite right.
My wolf pushes forward, and I follow my instinct and let him out, fully expecting him to scarf down a few of the elk strips piled on the cutting board.
Instead, he kicks his hindlegs free of our pants and proceeds to headbutt Elis in the armpit.
“Wha—?” Elis tenses, preparing to lose it, but before he can, my wolf props his paws on Elis’s shoulders and marks his face with such enthusiasm that Elis gets both a mouth and nose full of fur.
My wolf rumbles, and I can almost scent Elis’s remaining tension seep away. My wolf laps his face, and Elis chuckles, a deep, rusty creaking sound. Until I hear it, I don’t realize just how long it’s been missing from camp.
It makes sense in a horrible way. If the world is out to get you, best to be invisible, quiet and small. That’s how my Annie was living, wasn’t it?
I can’t let her go back to that.
And I can’t stop her. I swore.
A rock lodges in my chest, and at that same moment, my wolf realizes Elis’s hands are covered in elk juice.
Apparently, that’s the line, because Elis leaps to his feet and throws his hands in the air to escape my wolf’s tongue, groaning through a belly laugh. Tarquin and the others crack up. My wolf takes advantage of the confusion to snarf up a few elk strips, gets a snoot full of pepper, and sneezes for a half minute straight.
My job is done here.
I shift back, find my pants, and pull them back on. Thankfully, my wolf didn’t rend the seams like he usually does in his struggle to free himself.
“Shall we get breakfast?” I ask Annie, holding out my hand.
She takes it like she’s been doing it for years. That has to be a good sign.
“Didn’t you just eat yours?” she asks.
“My man stomach is still empty.”
“Your wolf and your man have different stomachs?” She raises an eyebrow, meeting my eye without hesitation. It’s gentle and teasing, but she’s still challenging me. That’s very good.
“Absolutely. Wolf stomach, man stomach, and dessert stomach. Don’t you have three?”
She giggles softly, and my heart beats double time.
“We were always taught the wolf and the man are one,” she says.
I snort. That’s some lost packs bullshit. It’s how they brainwash their people. If you can convince someone to believe things that are obviously untrue to anyone with eyes or a brain, you own them. Reality is what you say it is.
“Oh yeah?” I say. I’m not about to get into an argument with my mate over it, though, not while she’s smiling and smelling sweet.
Annie is quiet for a while as we make our way toward the long tables by the bonfire.
When we pass the sycamore, she says out of nowhere, “My wolf isn’t afraid of you.”
I blink, surprised she’s still on the topic. “No, she isn’t,” I agree.
Even when we mated, her wolf wasn’t scared. She wanted to tear my throat out. She wasn’t actually frightened until she got herself trapped between me and the river.
“But
I was scared.”
I keep my eyes ahead so she doesn’t see the hurt, but then one of her words snags my brain.
Was. As in not anymore? I school my face so she doesn’t see the flash of hope. Now isn’t the time. She’s working something out in her head.
“My wolf always howled at me to run and hide,” she says. Her forehead wrinkles, and her pace slows. I slow mine to match. “But I don’t think she was scared. I think she was scared for me.”
I nod. It makes sense. Even a small wolf can defend itself better than a young female. Considering how long it takes Annie to shift, she’d need a decent head start to give her wolf any chance of shifting in time to launch a defense against a predator.
She falls silent, deep in thought, and stays that way until we get to the bonfire. I seat her at a family table next to Nessa and her pups and then go to fetch our plates and a cup of tea. Redmond has made a hash of potato, apple chunks, and onion. I heap two plates high and score two rounds of bannock hot from the skillet.
When I return, Efa is standing on Annie’s lap, playing with her hair. Annie’s face is pink, and despite the cool morning, her upper lip is beaded with sweat. Her brown eyes have a feverish shine. I don’t think we have days before her heat takes over. More like hours.
Dread clutches my chest as adrenaline sends a rush of blood through my veins. My wolf howls at me to take her away from these other males. I breathe through it, willing my muscles to relax. She’s still in her right mind. We’re going to keep calm as long as we can.
I set our plates down and slide onto the bench beside her. Efa gives me a big smile that’s mostly gums except for her new baby canines. She looks like a little vampire.
“Affa!” she shrieks.
“I’m not Efa,” I tease her. “You’re Efa.” I tickle her snout with my beard, and she lets out a peal of delight.
“Affa!”
“Apple? Is that what you said?” I pierce the softest piece of apple with my fork and offer it to her.
“No!” she giggles. “Affa!”
“Okay.” I shrug. “No apple.” I pop the bite into my mouth. She laughs like I’m the most hilarious, outrageous male on the planet and tries to pry my lips open to get the apple back. I glance over her mussed head of fur to see if my mate thinks I’m funny, too.
Annie’s mouth quirks, and if I’m not mistaken, her eyes shine even brighter. She is the prettiest female I’ve ever seen. Now that I’ve watched her up close without the rut hormones of a young male messing up my mind, I see she isn’t like the little fairy in the children’s book at all. She’s more like a wood nymph with her beautiful brown hair and willowy neck and delicate fingers, like Daphne from the book of Greek myths I inherited from my dam. She turned herself into a tree to escape her mate.
In the story, he got to stay near her and wear her leaves as a crown. I’m going to have to return my mate to her people. Never see her or our possible pup again, except from a distance. How can I? What power could force my legs to walk away from her now?
But how could I keep her here with me, make her miserable, destroy the trust she has in me now? Break my solemn word, again, when I don’t have the excuse of being young to temper my shame?
My gut aches. Annie’s smile falls as she senses my pain.
Will it hurt her when I leave her with her pack and tear my own heart from my chest?
I can’t let her hurt. Her people would never accept me, not after we tried to kidnap their alpha’s mate. And I couldn’t abandon my people. How would I live with that shame, either?