Page 27 of Curvy Alpha Bride (Wolfshade Brides-for-Hire #4)

A fresh breeze dashes down from the mountain, pouring into the valley to whip across the sun-bleached grass of the main courtyard. I pull my coat a little tighter around me and look up towards the dark, jagged edge of Kootenai Peak where it cuts a shadow across the perfect blue sky.

Stay where you are, Ivarra. We might not be able to kill you, but be damn sure, if you touch my man again, I’ll make sure every second of your existence is a screaming, relentless hell!

Since our battle a year ago, the witch has been very quiet. Sometimes, in the longest stretch of a moonless night, her howling can be heard, and the scratch of her nails across a barricaded door. Other than that, there has been no sign of her.

It doesn’t mean we are safe. In fact, the entire town of Valentine Creek has gone back to strictly observing the rules it has lived by for centuries.

Except for a full moon.

The smile that curves my lips as I walk through the park is one of pure joy and contentment—a feeling I thought I’d never be able to embrace again. It comes from an enduring aura of safety, and it’s only been achieved by accepting the help of other packs.

Galen, Kit, and Damon were shocked to find out that this evil had stalked the hills so close to them and that the tiny town had resisted Ivarra for so long without assistance.

Immediately, the other packs helped to cut clear roads through to the Pass to make travel quicker and supply routes, so we could never run out of essentials.

They even volunteered their own warriors for guard duty.

“Mabel,” I hear Cass’s voice call to me and change direction, heading over to the picnic table where my old friend waits for me, as impatient and catty as ever.

“Were you ignoring me?” she asks.

“Yes,” I reply, rolling my eyes. “I was trying to, anyway. You’re such a trial to me, Cass, maybe you should take first watch on the next new moon?”

“How dare you!” she splutters in mock outrage. “That’s nothing to joke about.”

“I’m not joking,” I say, looking at her very solemnly. “You’re so bitter, the witch would never be able to swallow you. You’d probably poison her for good. Actually, this is starting to look like a brilliant idea. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”

Cass lunges at me, catching me around the shoulders and rolling me to the ground. We wrestle for a few seconds before I come out on top and pin her down.

“Get off me, you heifer!” she shrieks.

“Make me, skinny bitch.”

“Am I interrupting something?” Damon asks warily.

“Don’t worry about them,” Lexa answers. “They’re insane.”

“I didn’t think it was normal for grown women to wrestle like schoolboys,” Damon muses.

“Normal?” Cass echoes. “Where did you grow up?”

“Ah… kind of in the woods, actually.”

“That explains everything,” I answer, turning to look at him. “You’ve never experienced normal interactions, so you don’t know this is a perfectly common expression of affection.”

“Affection!” Cass crows, throwing all her weight forward in an attempt to toss me off her. “This is unadulterated rage!”

“If you say so,” I laugh, getting up. “But when I beat you, it starts to feel kind of serious.”

“Only because it’s completely unfair,” she mutters. “You should stick to your own weight division.”

“You attacked me, skinny butt. Don’t bite off more than you can chew.”

“Something you have experience with?”

“Oh, come on,” I say, chuckling as I grab fried custard cupcakes from the table. “You could use some meat on your bones. Open wide!”

“Fuck off.”

“Don’t make me force-feed you.”

“It doesn’t feel right watching this,” Damon mutters. “Is there an adults-only filter for the interactions between you two?”

“Don’t sweat it,” Lexa laughs, punching his arm. “You get used to it. Apparently, it all started in kindergarten when Cass tried to stick a pencil to Mabel’s head and they got superglued together.”

“For five fucking days,” I mutter.

“Don’t look at me,” Cass says. “What kind of teacher lets four-year-olds have industrial-strength glue?”

“It’s very sad,” Kit says, joining the conversation. “The experience made them quite dependent on each other.”

“I did not come here to be attacked in this manner!” Cass giggles. “I’m taking my skinny butt out of here!”

“Oh, you’re checking out the newcomers?” I ask. “The guys visiting from further down the Range?”

“Absolutely not,” Cass says assertively. “I have no interest in their dangerous good looks or witty humor. If you don’t mind, I’m going away to flirt now.”

“Eat some cream cakes!” I yell at her back. “Guys like a little booty to hold at night!”

Cass waves over her shoulder as she walks towards the other end of the park, not turning around to acknowledge my last shot. I sit down at the picnic table next to Clara, but I don’t get a chance to grab some food before Serra approaches with a wailing bundle in her hands.

“I tried, but we need you now,” she says, handing me my baby girl. “She wants a feed, which is the only thing I can’t do.”

I snuggle my daughter against my chest, stroking her soft forehead as she latches onto my nipple. I arrange my shawl around us to keep the wind from getting to her and rock gently as she feeds.

“How is little Dove?” Clara asks.

“She’s well,” I answer, feeling my heart filling with a joy so intense, it hurts.

“It was sweet of you to name her that,” Serra says softly.

I shake my head. “It was the only name we could have chosen.”

There is silence around the table for a moment, and the moan of the wind takes on a hard edge, almost but not quite a voice, crying out in sorrow.

“You’ll rot,” Serra growls, looking up at the mountain. “You’ll starve, you bitch! Sit up there and look at how strong we are, and think about how you lost!”

Since the battle, we’ve made an effort to curse the witch at every opportunity. Instead of the rules being superstitions that are barely spoken of, and having an unnamed threat hanging over the town, we talk about her openly, defying her with our every breath.

“Does she still—?” Clara pauses, not sure how to ask the question.

“Yes,” I answer. “Whenever Dove is around, there is no sign at all of the witch.”

“I’m telling you, the child has magic,” Serra says. “It’s because she was in your womb when you fought her—and the two of you are the only ones to ever survive against Ivarra.”

I haven’t told anyone, even Xavier, about the sense of communication I felt with my daughter before she was born.

I agree with the idea that Dove helped us beat the witch, but she was helping me before the main battle began.

Even if Ivarra couldn’t be killed, she is surely beaten, and if we maintain the rules, we can keep her from becoming a threat again.

And who knows? Maybe little Dove will grow into a new power, something we’ve never seen, and we wouldn’t need to fear Ivarra again.

“We had a little help,” I say, smiling at the others as I respond to Serra’s comment. Around the table, alphas and lunas from the other packs acknowledge my words.

“Let no wolf walk alone,” Galen states, and the crowd murmurs, “here, here.”

On every full moon, we now hold a ceremony, inviting all surrounding packs to attend. Instead of stopping our lives and hiding in fear of the witch, we celebrate and taunt her with our strength.

“I think she’s finished now,” I say, rocking Dove a little. “I assume you want her back?”

Serra smiles, holding out her arms. “You assume correctly.”

“I love having a full-time babysitter,” I tease. “But I do like to see her occasionally, too.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Serra laughs. “Oh, by the way, Xavier was looking for you.”

“Where is he?”

“Out the back of the hall, I think.”

“Okay, I’ll go and find him. Thanks.”

I say goodbye to the others and walk over to the town hall, waving to people as I go.

Crowds of young people are set up on picnic blankets, some playing music and dancing, others sitting together, talking and laughing.

I see Lyssa in the arms of a young man I don’t recognize.

I assume he must be from one of the packs further down the Range.

Finally, the girls get to live something like a normal life. We still have rules to live by, and the threat of Ivarra will never end. But at least we aren’t alone.

When I get to the back of the hall, the sun has dropped towards the hills, and orange light slants across the grass, lighting the tips like flames.

I turn to the east, knowing that as the sun sets behind me, the full moon will rise at almost the exact same moment, meaning that light never leaves the valley.

As the great silvery orb slips above the high, dark ridge, I feel Xavier’s arms go around me.

“Hi, my love,” he whispers in my ear. “I was hoping you’d get here for moonrise.”

“Well, I did,” I say, turning to kiss him. “Have you been out at the cabin with Nico?”

“I sure have. He says he can see the magical wards inside the walls and may be able to duplicate them to put spells on all the buildings. He just needs a bit more time out there to understand the magics.”

“That kid is amazing,” I say. “So far, no magic worker has been able to decode them.”

“I think that’s just it—he does everything by instinct. It would never occur to him to approach the problem intellectually.”

“Well, I’m glad he’s here. One more weapon against Ivarra is always welcome.”

Xavier turns me towards him and kisses my lips gently but insistently. He pulls me back a little, and that’s when I see the big woolen rug on the ground, a pile of pillows, and a picnic basket.

“You’re well set up here,” I remark.

“I wanted us to be comfortable while we watched the sky,” he says. “This night is our act of defiance against her—and I honestly believe it does weaken her.”

In the old days, the townsfolk of Valentine Creek would have been terrified to party at all, let alone hold an all-night vigil out under the stars. Now we fully believe that coming together in love gives us strength against Ivarra and drains her strength.