Page 24 of Curvy Alpha Bride (Wolfshade Brides-for-Hire #4)

Mabel writhes under me, her screams of pleasure the sweetest music I’ve ever heard. The sensations overpower my thoughts and give my body the release it needs after being denied a brutal fight.

I thrust harder and faster, feeling her hot, wet pussy clenching around my cock on every stroke. I draw out every single orgasm for as long as I can, watching her face, feeling the trembling in her body, so I can keep giving her pleasure.

When she suddenly wraps her entire body around me, wailing desperately, my cock hardens inside her, letting me feel every single velvety inch of her constricting around me, and the orgasm that thunders through me leaves me shivering and gasping on top of her, completely senseless in my release.

Reality comes back to me slowly, in small pieces, and I fight it. I’m aware enough to climb off Mabel and sit on the floor, and she reaches out to put one arm across my chest.

“Don’t go far,” she murmurs.

“I won’t,” I answer, snuggling against her.

Even though I try to resist it, the reality of the situation comes back to me. I still feel angry and desperate, but my mind is much clearer than it was before, as if my connection with Mabel has brought me a new perspective.

I wait for Mabel to relax and for her breathing to settle before I move away. She wakes immediately, grabbing my shoulder.

“Where are you going?”

“Just to start a fire,” I say.

She nods, curling up on the couch so she can watch me.

As I pile kindling into a stack and light it up, I know with a terrible certainty that I can’t stay here. It almost feels like I’ve fallen straight into paradise, and this happiness is more than I deserve, but I can’t accept it.

Not yet. I haven’t earned it.

As the fire grows, I look over my shoulder at Mabel, and she smiles drowsily at me. I toss a small log into the flames and shuffle back across the floor to sit at the edge of the couch. She reaches out to touch my cheek, smiling.

“It will be alright, my love,” she says. “I don’t know how, but it will.”

“I know,” I agree, taking her hand and squeezing it. “We’ll figure all this out.”

“The girls told me about how to live… how to survive against Ivarra. I know how to do things now, like how to spin wool, and knit, and how to churn butter.”

I chuckle softly, brushing a dark curl of hair from her forehead. “Okay, you can churn me some butter first thing in the morning, then.”

She laughs. “Sure. Butter for breakfast.”

“Fried butter,” I correct her, and she chuckles.

“Remember that meeting, back at the Lock?” she giggles. “When we were planning the festival and the street food?”

“I do,” I answer, kissing her hand. “And I think it’s a great blessing that we don’t need any complicated ingredients to make all your favorite fried foods.”

Mabel laughs again, relaxing back into the couch. Her eyelids are fluttering, and I can tell she’s almost asleep.

“Yeah, I’ll be craving soon,” she mutters. “Fried butter will only be the start of it. I’ll be getting so hungry, you’ll have to fry constantly to keep me satisfied.”

“I will,” I say, kissing her forehead. “Just call me your loyal fry cook.”

She frowns slightly, as if there is something else she needs to say, but sleep takes over, and I watch her face relax as she falls against me and begins to snore softly.

“Poor honey,” I whisper, brushing her hair back again. “You’re so exhausted from this ordeal, you just couldn’t stay awake another second.”

I stay next to her for a while, watching her face. She’s truly the most precious thing I’ve ever seen, and I know I have to protect her with my life.

But I have a duty to the pack. Somehow, I have to be there for them as well as Mabel, and I’m not going to let anyone else die.

Memories of our first days together in the cabin come back to me, and I’m in awe of the change in her. She had no reason to stay and commit to these people—to me—but she chose to.

She put herself in danger to save the others, and she’d do it again. To save the pack, she’d sacrifice herself.

Double-checking that Mabel is asleep, I walk over to the window and look out across the lake. The full moon is climbing swiftly to the zenith, and the mountains are flooded with pure white light. My wolf surges in my blood, feeling more powerful than he’s ever been.

I am at my strongest tonight, and the witch is weak. I don’t care if she managed to murder the scouts and hurl their bodies down at us in a show of threat. That’s all it is: an empty threat.

With the knowledge I gleaned from my father’s journals and what I learned from the townsfolk over the past few weeks, I realize that I have more information on Ivarra right now than anyone ever has.

I’m in a unique position here… and this could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

I hurry back to the fire, stacking up logs so it will keep burning for a long time. Turning back to look at Mabel, I can’t believe I’m even considering leaving her.

But I have to.

My instincts are beginning to scream at me that I’m running out of time. It’s almost as if I can hear my father’s voice in my mind, urging me on. Everything that I’ve learned about Ivarra confirms my feelings.

She’s weak, starving, desperate. If we go back to our old routines, she will fade, and she knows it. The display earlier tonight was to drive us apart and create confusion. In fact, she probably spent all her strength on it.

I walk over to the front door, placing my palm on the thick wood. I can almost feel the magical wards set into it, spells that are hundreds of years old and stood against Ivarra for all that time.

She planned to attack after killing the scouts. If she could have taken one girl, it would have given her enough strength to keep fighting. But maybe she overexerted herself. Maybe we moved too quickly and prevented her from taking anyone else.

The urgency inside me increases, and I suddenly see Ivarra for what she truly is.

A flawed being. Weak and sickly, barely able to maintain her own existence. The townsfolk see her as some unstoppable force, but her only true weapon is fear.

I turn and look back at Mabel, sleeping peacefully on the couch. Leaving her feels like tearing out my own heart, but I have to do it.

It’s the only way to protect her. I will not live my life as a prisoner, and I won’t condemn Mabel to it, either!

I can kill her. Only I can, and it has to be tonight!

Taking a deep breath, I turn the deadbolt and yank the door open, closing it softly behind me as I walk out onto the porch. I’m not worried about Mabel’s safety—the lock isn’t needed to keep the witch out. The wards are enough.

As I walk across the meadow towards the woods, I feel like I’m moving through a veil of electrified rope that shocks me in tiny, hot points, more annoying than painful. It’s an effect of my fear, but also the witch’s magic.

She can’t best me, I know it in my bones. I will find her, kill her, and return to town with her head! Valentine Creek will finally be free.

I keep walking towards the woods, the bright moonlight pouring down on me, filling me with strength. My wolf rises, the ancient will of the land manifesting in my human blood.

Suddenly, the thought strikes me that I’m right out in the open, exposed, a perfect target in the moonlight. Panic floods through me, stealing the breath from my lungs, and I almost turn around to bolt back to the cabin.

The witch can harness men, put them under her thrall! What was I thinking?

Just as I’m about to turn and run, a light breeze touches the edge of my cheek, turning my face back towards the woods. I’m surrounded by sweet scents—delicate jasmine, vanilla, and honey. My thoughts are clear, and my heart returns to a steady beat.

I can defeat her. Only I can. I’m a hero!

The full moon tugs even more strongly in my blood, and I shift into my wolf shape. As the animal mind takes over, any lingering doubt fades, and I race into the woods, searching for the witch’s trail.

The scent of old, rotted blood teases my nose, breaking through the sweetness in the night air. I feel like the entire mountain is a cathedral built in honor of my magnificence, and the songs of my bravery and triumph will ring through the Range for eternity.

This night is perfect. It is my destiny!

Following the scent, I come to a small grove. The trees are close together, making a patch of shadow that moonlight can’t break through.

Careful. The witch is stronger in the darkness.

I pause at the edge of the clearing, wary of a trap. The foul smell eases a little, but is strong enough that I believe I am in the right place. Then, through the whisper of the wind in the trees, I hear a song.

Even though I don’t understand the language, the words are clear to me. It’s a song of mourning and grief, of pain and terrible loneliness.

Poor creature! I’ve never heard such suffering. Is it one of the witch’s victims?

I pace forward into the darkness, my hackles raised, ready for attack. Across from me at the tree line, I see a shimmering blue glow. I plant my feet, baring my teeth.

To my shock, a lovely maiden dances into the clearing. She’s young and beautiful, with pale skin and long blond hair. When she looks at me, blinking her long lashes, I see her eyes are an enchanting shade of blue.

She dances in time to the strange song, naked except for the light she wraps around herself like a shroud. My heart aches for her pain, desperate to assuage her loneliness.

Yes, Xavier. I’m so lonely. I’ve suffered so. Only you can save me.

The words shock me back into my human shape, and I kneel on the ground, shaking my head as if I’ve just taken an arrow through my skull.

“Only I can… defeat her,” I mutter.

“Defeat who?” the maiden asks, spinning close to me, her lips almost touching mine. The flavors of honey and vanilla brush across my tongue, capturing my senses.

“There’s only us here,” the maiden sings, her voice part of the wind and the haunting song. “No one to fight or defeat. Just us.”

“Just us,” I echo, standing up and staggering after her.

“Just us,” she repeats, dancing close to me again.

I reach for her, hearing her giggle as my fingers graze across her soft, slim waist, almost catching her.

“Us,” I mutter, shaking my head.

There is something I’m supposed to remember… something important.

Or someone?

“Mabel?” I say, looking around in confusion.

The maiden shrieks with laughter, the sound of it like sheets of ice shattering over frozen rocky peaks.

Fear strikes me through the chest, so shocking that I fall to the ground, gasping as if I’m having a heart attack.

The stench of rotted blood fills my nostrils again, making me gag as I try to draw breath.

“It’s just us, Xavier!” the witch laughs, standing over me. “Finally, we’re alone!”

“No,” I gasp, trying to get to my feet, but she reaches out and puts her fingertip to my chest. The second her cold hand touches my warm skin, a wave of pain rushes through me, as if my insides are getting dragged over the sharp points of billions of needles.

“Oh, yes, lover,” she whispers. “That’s the stuff I like. You really know how to please a woman.”

I put all my effort into one last, final struggle, but it’s no use.

My senses blur, and I can’t be sure if I’m in heaven with a luscious siren or sunk into a cold hell with the worst demon Satan himself could cough up.

Pleasure and pain war within me as I realize the witch needs my pleasure to make me compliant, but enjoys my pain too much to drain my life force without hurting me.

As my grip on the world begins to fail, the only thing I know with complete certainty is that I failed. I failed my family, my father, my pack, but worst of all, I have betrayed Mabel. For the third—and last—time.