Claimed by the Alphas (Shifters of Appalachia Book 1) Page 11

  “Caim imprinted on her, too,” he told her. He wasn’t interested in keeping up the pretense that Mila had chosen him when she hadn’t. Instead of being amusing, it was an irritating reminder that she wasn’t fully his.

  “How are you managing that?” Lotus asked, her eyes rounding.

  “I don’t think we’re managing to do anything except piss Mila off.”

  Lotus laughed and the storm clouds that had gathered in her eyes cleared. Asch felt the strange uneasiness between the two of them wane as well.

  “Have you coupled together?”

  “A few times. Mila seems to enjoy it, but Caim’s being an overbearing asshole about it.” Asch scratched the back of his neck. “I guess if I’m being honest, I haven’t been a walk in the park, either. I probably want to share her less than he does.”

  “Mm,” Lotus said, nodding sagely. “How long until the thrall?”

  “A few days.”

  Asch had already sensed the changes taking place in her body—changes that were beginning to affect him as well. Aside from feeling more possessive over Mila, he fostered a low-level aggression toward Caim that seemed to grow by the hour. He knew Caim must sense it too, though the younger male made no mention of it.

  In fact, he and Caim had hardly spoken in days. He knew it had nothing to do with any awkwardness from their shared sexual experiences. Although he wasn’t about to tell Mila, she was not the first woman they had shared. Not even close.

  While it had taken Asch a few years to let go of his human inhibitions, Caim had never viewed sex as a private or personal thing. When he was younger, Caim had often made it into a sort of game. They would compete to see who could last longer, who could make the female moan louder and come harder, and many more things Asch would rather not reflect on.

  Now that they were both past their wild youths, Asch was more partial to intimacy than pure gratification. He had a few females that he coupled with regularly, usually in a private setting. By comparison, Caim almost seemed to have burnt himself out. For him, sex was a shallow affair, nothing more than a simple release, and he never seemed entirely satisfied.

  Lotus placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a tired smile. “The outcome of this falls on you, Asch.”

  “I don’t see why I have to be responsible for everything.”

  She shook her head. “No, it is not like that. You think that Caim is ruled by his instincts, but he is the master of them. No matter how affected he is by the thrall, he will be in control. It is you who will have to remember who you are, and what is important to you.”

  3

  Moonlight rippled over the trout’s scales as it swam in place between Mila’s legs. Back hunched and hands in the water, she kept her limbs perfectly still while chewing on her tongue.

  Come on, you slimy bastard.

  The trout inched forward, skimming its nose against the rocky riverbed. She tensed as it neared her hands and prepared to snap them closed on the fat fish.

  “Oh! Mila! Over here!”

  Rosie’s voice jarred her, making her jump. She quickly clasped her hands together, but the fish had already darted away in a flash of silver.

  Mila straightened her back and fixed Rosie with a glare. She sat on a large rock, legs dangling over the side so that her painted toes flirted with the surface of the river. She pointed enthusiastically at a random spot in the water.

  “I saw a herring. Or maybe it was a catfish. Or a bass.”

  Rosie sat by and watched while Mila stood knee-deep in freezing water, trying to catch fish with her bare hands. Mila was irritated with her, not because she wasn’t helping, but because she hadn’t figured out how to get away with doing the same thing.

  Brae squatted a few yards away, eyes intently focused on the water. Mila watched sullenly as Brae snatched her sixth fish from the river in one fluid flick of her hand. The fish sailed over Mila’s head and onto the bank, where it thrashed on the ground.

  “Don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of it,” Brae said. “Grab with your claws, not your fingers.”

  Mila looked back down at the water, her heart sinking. She didn’t want to “get the hang of it.” She had enough things to be frustrated about and this was not helping. There was a reason that her ancestors had created nets and fishing poles, and it had a lot to do with the fact that fishing with one’s hands was pretty much impossible with human reflexes.

  “Grip with my claws. Okay,” Mila muttered, bending back down.

  This was not how she had planned on spending her night. It had started when she’d come back from peeing. Brae and Rosie were arguing, of course. Apparently, each of them wanted to spend the evening with Mila and neither was willing to compromise. Brae had wanted to take Mila fishing with her while Rosie had wanted to paint Mila’s nails and do her hair. One option sounded infinitely more appealing, but in the end, Mila had chosen to go fishing.

  Naively, she’d assumed it would give her some alone time with Brae. She thought they would spend an hour or two conversing peacefully, and Mila could talk to her about her problems with Asch and Caim.

  Instead, Rosie had decided to join them, and rather than picking up on all of the desperate signals Mila was sending her way, Brae had spent the past hour bickering with the other female.

  “It is cold out,” Rosie whined for what had to be the hundredth time.

  “Then go inside,” Brae hissed.

  “I do not think Caim would approve of you forcing his mate to do menial labor.”

  Mila squinted as another trout approached, its tail whipping back and forth as it swam against the current.

  “Unlike some members of our pack, Mila enjoys lending a helping hand.”

  “I am helping. You are just being ignorant!”

  A little closer.

  “How dare you!”

  Mila clasped her hands together. She felt the trout wriggle in her grasp. Reacting swiftly, she dug her nails in, securing the fish in her grip. It thrashed as she pulled it out of the water. It was nearly as long as her forearm with a smooth head and iridescent scales.

  Beaming victoriously, she looked over to the wolves in time to see Brae yank one of Rosie’s feet, pulling the smaller female into the water. The river swelled abruptly as the two women shifted simultaneously, snarling and swiping at one another.

  Having already learned her lesson about not getting in between two angry wolves, Mila bolted for the shore. Once she was safe on dry land, she watched them, caught in the awkward position of wanting to stop them but knowing they needed to fight it out.

  Although her build was lithe and streamlined, Brae was still nearly twice the size of Rosie in her wolf form. After stunning the smaller wolf with a few hard smacks to the head, Brae went in for the kill, gripping Rosie’s neck between her jaws and holding fast. Rosie yelped, kicking at Brae with her hindquarters, but the white wolf wouldn’t loosen her grip.

  Mila looked down at the trout in her hands. It squirmed restlessly, its gills opening and closing. She had the sudden impulse to throw him back into the river, but after a moment’s hesitation, decided against it. She had caught him with her bare hands. Weird as it was, she was kind of proud.

  When Rosie finally stopped struggling, Brae released her. Mila had expected this. Over the past few days in the den, she had seen a few skirmishes between disgruntled wolves. They could be hair-raising, but they usually ended before any major damage was done.

  Rosie scrambled from the river, shaking the water from her matted coat as she came ashore. She looked back at Brae, snarled again, and then took off into the woods.

  Brae came ashore with much more grace, shifting as she glided to the river bank. Her expression was nothing short of murderous as she glared at Rosie’s retreating form.

  “I cannot stand her,” Brae said hotly. Her breathing was erratic, and she was clearly resisting the urge to give chase.

  “I noticed …”

  Once Brae had calmed down, she began gathering her fish from the r
iver bank. She tucked them under her arm while muttering under her breath.

  Mila knew she should probably be supportive and let Brae vent to her, but she had waited all night to be alone with the other woman. She had major problems, and she really didn’t have time to deal with Brae’s drama.

  “Brae, I—”

  “I see you caught a fish. Good job,” Brae said absently. She headed for the trail, beckoning Mila to follow. “That’s enough for tonight. I’m sure you are hungry.”

  Mila trotted to catch up. “Yeah, I’m starving, but I kind of want to talk to you first.”

  “I know that I agreed not to fight with Rose. I’m sorry,” Brae said wearily. “But pack hierarchy exists for a reason, Mila. She is an omega. I can’t allow her to disrespect me.”

  “I get it, totally understand, but—”

  “Did you know her mother was a dog?”

  Mila wrinkled her nose. “That’s possible?” she asked, momentarily sidetracked. “Wait, we can talk about that later. Look—”

  Brae stopped in her tracks and sniffed at the air. She blinked thoughtfully and sniffed again before her hard expression melted into pure joy.

  “Lotus!” Brae exclaimed.

  “Lotus?” Why did that name sound familiar?

  “She must have returned with your things. Let’s hurry back!”

  Mila sprinted behind Brae, her waterlogged boots squishing. She knew she should be excited that her bags had finally arrived, but instead, she felt disconcerted.

  Mila was dripping with more than just water by the time they made it back to the den. The air was chilly, but keeping pace with the nimble wolf was tiring.

  The bonfire was lit in the central cavern of the den, illuminating the wolves and casting shadows on the walls. She immediately spotted her luggage near the rocky dais. Her four bags had been twined together in two bundles and looked no worse for wear from when she had left them in the truck.

  Any joy she had felt over the bags quickly dried up when she saw the woman standing with Asch and Caim on the dais. She was tall with long, graceful legs, tanned skin, and hair that was an opulent shade of gold.

  Mila knew she had never seen this radiant being in the den before and that she was undoubtedly the fabled Lotus. She also knew why the name had seemed so familiar to her.

  Lotus was one of Caim’s favorites.

  This bothered Mila way more than it should have. After all, her best friend (could she really call Brae that?) had been one of Asch’s favorites, and they got along just fine. So why did the sight of this woman casually putting her hand on Caim’s chest make her want to growl?

  4

  “You know River. He’ll keep his distance unless he’s sure to have an in. I would not worry about him,” Lotus said to Asch. She ran her finger up and down Caim’s arm, the way she did when she was talking about something that did not interest him.

  Her touch had always anchored Caim, helping him to focus on the issues at hand instead of contemplating all of the things he would rather be doing. He did not care for discussing politics and pack relations, but he knew it was part of being an alpha, so he endured it with the knowledge that whatever the issue, Asch would handle it.

  “I decided it would be a good idea to bring Mila’s things back.”

  Hearing the human’s name made his jaw tick, and he remembered why he felt so agitated. For the second time, his needs had been at the human’s mercy and had gone unabated. Then, she’d had the audacity to tell him, her alpha, that he was not permitted to take his pleasures elsewhere. How did she really intend to enforce that?

  Had Asch not been there, Caim would have dragged her back to bed. No, had Asch not been there, she never would have left the bed in the first place. She had awoken with just as much need for him. If Asch would have just left well enough alone, all three of them could have had a satisfying evening.

  Still talking, Lotus asked, “And how is Mila adjusting to life in the pack?”

  “She is well,” Caim replied without thinking.

  Lotus looked to Asch. Caim hated it when she did that. Why was his counsel never sufficient for her?

  “She wants to be here,” Asch told her. “I think that’s the most important part. Happiness will come, in time.”

  Caim’s mouth flattened. He did not like being contradicted, and for some reason, it was even more irritating in this matter. The human never went hungry. She had two powerful mates and a secure territory. What could she possibly have to be unhappy about?

  “Lotus!”

  Caim cocked his head to see Brae making her way up to the dais. His eyes did not linger on her for long because the human was trailing behind her, which immediately caught his attention.

  Her hair was a wet, tangled mess and her dress was sodden. In her small hands was a fat trout. When he caught her scent, his lips curled distastefully. Usually, the human smelled like things that appealed to him—namely, his own scent—but tonight, she smelled like fish and dirt. Those were not the things she was supposed to smell like, and he knew that Brae was to blame.

  He glowered at Brae as she approached, but she only had eyes for Lotus. He decided to deal with her later and made his way down the dais to meet the human halfway.

  She looked uneasy as he approached, and he found that this bothered him, though he wasn’t sure why. A few days ago, it had pleased him that she was intimidated by him. Now, it was yet another thing on the growing list of things that annoyed him.

  When he stopped in front of her, she held up the glassy-eyed trout and gave him a weak smile.

  “Look, I caught a fish with my bare hands.”

  She said it as if it were some great accomplishment, which it was not. Had she felled a buck or run a boar aground, he might have been impressed (after he’d gutted whoever had allowed her to put herself in such danger.) But any animal could catch a fish from the river. Not only was it unimpressive, it was also beneath her station to do such things.

  Caim gave her a dry look. “You smell disgusting. You are not to go fishing again.”

  Her face reddened, and without warning, she hurled the fish at him. Caim caught it before it struck his chest. He frowned, perturbed by her bizarre reaction.

  “I am so sick of you,” she snapped. “If I want to fish, I’ll fish. And if you try to stop me—”

  “You’ll what?” Caim asked, genuinely curious.

  She blanched. He knew she was just making idle threats, but he didn’t feel any satisfaction at pointing it out. Caim had always enjoyed asserting his superiority over others, but she looked so distressed. He found it unsettling.

  Asch approached, placing an arm around Mila’s shoulders and a hand on her chin. He turned her face away from Caim.

  “Mila, calm down,” he coaxed.

  Through gritted teeth, she said, “He makes me so mad.”

  “I know, but he means well.”

  “By telling me I stink?”

  They were talking about him as if he were not standing in front of them. He felt a fine tremor of rage course through his body at the insult. His claws dug reflexively into the fish in his hand.

  Lotus came up beside him, but he could not take his eyes off the spectacle before him. Lotus put a soothing hand on his shoulder. The human’s eyes registered the movement, and her gaze flickered between the two of them, her posture stiffening.

  “How would you like a hot bath?” Asch asked, recapturing her attention.

  Her jaw slackened. “You have those here?”

  “It can be arranged,” he said, nodding to Brae.

  “I’ll go get some water heated for you,” Brae offered before departing the group.

  Asch motioned to Caim’s favorite. “Lotus brought your bags back from Tye.”

  “Thanks,” Mila said tightly.

  “It was my pleasure,” Lotus replied graciously.

  The four of them stood in a tense silence for a moment. Caim’s blood boiled. He wanted to resolve this—whatever this was—so that he could m
ove on with his evening. Instead, he had to watch as Asch led Mila away.

  “Come on. Let’s take your bags to your room while Brae gets your bath ready.”

  He stared after their retreating forms, watching as Asch led his mate away from the cavern—away from him. His mate. She was his, and Asch should not have interfered.

  Lotus elbowed him in the side. “If you keep looking at her like that, your face will get stuck that way.”

  Ignoring her comment, Caim said, “Come with me to my chamber.”

  “I do not think so,” she said, pinching him.

  Caim smacked her hand away. “You defy me as well?”

  He drew in slow, steady breaths, determined to keep his rage in check. It was not fair. He was never given the opportunity to please his mate. Every time he upset her, Asch appeared with all of the right words to make her happy. Asch would be the one spending time with her. He would bathe her, and then they would likely couple without him. If they were allowed to couple without him, then he should not be bound by their arrangement either.

  Lotus stepped in front of him, catching his gaze. “Your mate looks like she wants to scratch my eyes out. If you think things can be the same between us, you are mistaken.”

  Caim cocked his head. “She does not matter to me.”

  “You matter to her.”

  “She threw a fish at me,” he said, holding up the offending trout.

  “You know very well that the ones we care for the most can make us the angriest.”

  Caim exhaled and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. Lotus made no sense. How could the human possibly care for him? He had done nothing to warrant her affection. He clearly did not understand her needs as Asch did.

  He looked from side to side, ensuring none of the pack was in earshot, before giving Lotus an even look.

  After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “Sarah was always pleased with my father.”

  Her eyes softened. “You were very young, Caim. Too young to remember how at odds they were when she first came to Shaderunner. Things were not always easy for them.”