Page 8 of Curvy Alpha Bride (Wolfshade Brides-for-Hire #4)

My body and mind are so exhausted that the second I lie down, sleep overcomes me like a heavy, black tide. For a while, there is nothing. Then my internal darkness is brightened by flashes of white and blue light.

I know I’m dreaming as the glow begins to illuminate thick trunks of trees around me with shadows so deep, I still can’t make out any details. The light flashes through the woods as if it’s moving very fast, and I jog towards it, hoping to find out what it is.

Suddenly, I realize it’s coming towards me, and terror like nothing I’ve ever known streaks through my bones. This isn’t fear like I might feel from leaping over a chasm or getting into a scruff with a bear. This is marrow-deep, like ice in my veins. Primal, unparalleled horror.

If this thing gets me, it will be worse than death!

I turn and run, seeing only suggestions of trees around me and shadows so thick they get caught in my throat when I try to breathe, strangling me.

Somewhere in the darkness, I see a flash of red.

I realize it’s Mabel in her wedding dress.

I bolt towards her, stumbling over logs and branches in the dark.

When I get closer, I see that she’s dancing in a clearing ahead, spinning and turning without a care in the world. When I look behind me, the silvery blue glow is still there, and even though I know it wants to do unmentionable horrors to me, suddenly I’m more afraid for Mabel.

“Your soul, I’ll take. But it’s her blood I need.”

The guttural words are uttered right against my neck, and I feel the rush of air and the stink of fetid breath. I wake up so fast, I almost hurl myself out of bed, struggling with the blankets for a minute as I try to wake up properly.

I look over at Mabel. She’s sleeping peacefully, curled towards me with her dark, wavy hair spread out across the pillow. She looks so innocent and sweet, and I feel such a fierce need to protect her that for a moment, I regret bringing her here at all.

Calm down. You’re awake now, and it was just a dream.

As I get up and put on my robe, common sense refuses to sink in. I want to banish my nightmare with a healthy dose of stoicism and self-deprecation, but the niggling anxiety just won’t fade.

As I stand at the kitchen counter making coffee, I feel an icy trickle down my spine.

Something watching me.

Directly outside the window, a small glade runs straight up into the mountain, an almost vertical sheer edge that rises straight into the sky. It’s the only place an unknown watcher could observe me, but it would be near impossible for anyone or anything to set up camp in that wilderness.

Unless it’s behind me.

I stare at the coffee maker as I carefully spoon coffee into the filter. Even though the uncomfortable feeling gets worse, I refuse to look up.

I’m not giving in to the superstitions of this town! There’s nothing there!

Slowly, the knowledge dawns on me that my determination not to react is solely based on my certainty that there is someone there, and I’m trying to fake them out.

I finish with the coffee maker, take a deep breath, then square up and turn around.

The little living room is empty, of course, looking warm and cozy with its overstuffed chairs and brightly colored rugs.

There is a window on the other side of the room, but if someone were watching me from that side of the house, they’d have to have their face pressed right up against the glass.

I don’t have time to feel any relief, though. The longer my back faces the mountain, the worse my anxiety gets. The stench from my dream returns, and I become completely convinced that a glowing specter is standing behind me, ready to tear me apart with sharp, freezing-cold claws.

“Xavier?” Mabel asks, coming to the doorway. “You okay?”

“Yes,” I answer, giving myself a mental shake. To my dismay, the intensity of my feeling eases, but doesn’t go away completely.

Something is watching us!

Don’t be a goddamn fool!

“Can you get my bag out of the car?” she asks, yawning.

My stomach twists. I know it’s a perfectly normal request, but the last thing I want to do is go outside.

“Sure,” I say nonchalantly, heading for the door. My anxiety increases the closer I get to it, and I desperately try to remain calm, or at least hide my panic from Mabel.

Taking a deep breath, I step out onto the porch and stride across the yard to the car. I can still feel the icky anticipation in the air, as if the sky is about to unleash horrors upon me, but I keep my back straight and my head high, not letting it stop me.

I’m the alpha of this town, motherfucker. Just try me.

As if the unseen thing can hear my thoughts, the chill breeze brings a trickle of unhinged laughter to my ear.

Mocking me, or challenging me? I must be imagining it. It’s just the wind.

I get Mabel’s bag out of the car, then go back to the house, forcing myself to walk casually. Whatever this thing is, I’m not going to let it spook me.

Let’s get real here. I have no evidence that there even is a thing. I had a bad dream, and I live in an isolated place with some kooky folks. There’s no proof we’re actually in danger.

As hard as I try to convince myself of this, my wolf isn’t buying it. Something is keeping our hackles raised, and the fact that we can’t see or smell anything makes the situation worse.

“Here it is,” I say, trying to banish the tension with a cheery voice as I come inside. “Anything else you need?”

“Where’s the food?” Mabel asks, standing in the kitchen with her arms folded. “All I can see is a couple of steaks and some mushrooms. Oh, and beer.”

“Sorry,” I reply, only just realizing how pitifully bare my pantry is. “There are no supermarkets here, so I couldn’t do any regular shopping. But honestly, I didn’t even think of it. I don’t need much to live on.”

She sighs. “So, what you’re telling me is you have absolutely nothing for breakfast. Not even toast.”

“Well, yeah. Unless you want steak and beer.”

“Not today, thanks. You don’t have any eggs?”

“No,” I answer, heading into the kitchen. “Sally was going to bring over a couple of chickens, but hasn’t gotten around to it yet.”

“Chickens?” Mabel echoes, her eyes wide.

“Yeah. If we’re going to live here, we have to sort out our own basic provisions. I can get Dad’s veggie garden back up, and we’ll have chickens, maybe even a cow—”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Mabel exclaims. “Are you expecting me to live like Little House on the Prairie? This is ridiculous. Where did you even get the coffee?”

“There’s a grocer in town that started importing the second the town was opened up. He’s got some items, but not a lot. The residents are so used to doing everything themselves, they don’t really trust stuff from outside.”

“This is an outrage,” Mabel mutters, pulling out her phone. “I have to—”

Mabel’s face goes blank as she stares at the screen. She looks so shocked, I worry that something terrible has happened.

“Mabel, are you okay?”

“Xavier,” she says very slowly. “What the fuck?”

She raises the screen to me, and I see the little icon blink at the top.

SOS only.

“Oh, yeah,” I say. “I forgot. No service up here. I’ve gotten so used to it now, I don’t even notice.”

“No phone reception?” she asks softly. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m living in the goddamn dark ages!”

“Hey, calm down. There’s a reception in town.”

“As well as all the food, by the sound of it. We'd better get ready to go, then. You are sure I’ll be able to get a decent breakfast in town?”

“Guaranteed. The bakery will be open, and so will the grill. They’ll probably have something special made up for you, as a welcome.”

“I’ll get dressed,” she says gruffly, grabbing her bag and heading down the hall.

I stand at the kitchen counter as I drink my coffee, purposefully standing where I feel the most exposed and uncomfortable.

If something is watching me, let it have a nice, long look. I’m not fucking going anywhere, and I’m ready to throw down if that’s what it takes.

“Coward,” I accuse the presence. “Perving on me from a distance where I can’t see you. Come out and fight if you’re so tough.”

Again, I hear a faint trickle of laughter, but so far away on the edge of the wind, it could be my imagination.

When Mabel comes down the hall, she startles me so badly, I almost drop my coffee.

She frowns. “You okay, Xavier?”

“Sure, yeah,” I say quickly. “I was just in my own little world. Let me get changed, and we’ll head off.”

Mabel walks towards me, and for a moment, all my fears and worries fade away.

She’s wearing a long green dress that wraps around her big, round shape in flowing drapes, designed to keep her warm and show off her generous curves.

The gown flows around her as she walks, and with her long, curly hair flowing over her shoulders, she looks truly regal.

“Ahem,” Mabel clears her throat, and I realize I’m standing between her and the coffee. Excusing myself, I shuffle around her and down the hall.

I get dressed quickly, still feeling watched, but also not wanting to leave Mabel alone for very long. Every second she’s out of my sight, a terrible fear rises in me that I can’t explain.

“Your soul, I’ll take. But it’s her blood I need.”

The words from my dream return, and with them, a new wave of icy terror. Threats to myself, I can handle, even if they do freak me out. But threats to Mabel hit me straight in the heart.

I brought her here. If she gets hurt, it will all be my fault.

When I return to the kitchen, she’s standing at the counter in the same place I was, staring out across the plain and occasionally turning to look up the rough slope of the mountain. Her eyes are wide, but she seems more curious than afraid.

“Is everything okay?” I ask.

Mabel shakes her head slightly, still looking up the mountain.

“I don’t know,” she mutters. “Something singing?”

“Did you see anything?” I ask, a bit too urgently. My approach seems to jolt her out of her trance, and she turns to me with just a slight scowl.

“No, there’s nothing there,” she answers. “Just some birds in the garden.”

I look out the window to see a few small wrens flitting around in the trees. Even though I’m pretty sure that’s not what Mabel was listening to, I can’t find the words to ask if she felt anything like I did.

If I’m just being paranoid, then I’ll end up scaring her for no reason. Even if there is something out there, I don’t even know how to describe it at this point.

“Are we going?” Mabel asks, standing by the door with her coat. “Are you really okay? You seem a bit out of it.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Just a bit of disturbed sleep.”

“I know what you mean,” she mutters.

I open the door for Mabel and walk her out to the car, willing myself not to look up at the mountain. Even though I manage not to turn around, I can still feel an intense gaze fixed on me and my mate. An enduring, hateful presence that yearns for our destruction.