Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
I remained next to the SUV as more people came from different directions, all wrapped up in winter coats, scarves, and beanies. I didn’t move, waiting for Reggie and Fletcher, as Justin and a man I didn’t know walked out to the top of the stairs, flanking the couple.
Justin was an undeniably gorgeous man, and I was guessing he knew that. And yes, he was the alpha’s son, but people wouldn’t throw themselves at him left and right, as both Reggie and Fletcher had told me that first day I met them, if he weren’t beautiful.
The guy with him was not beautiful, but he had a good face, a ruggedly handsome one, and his eyes were a deep, dark charcoal, fringed with thick lashes. He looked like he might be related to Justin, perhaps his cousin, but where Justin had dark golden hair, this man’s was more dirty blond, as was the stubble on his face. He was also built big, with broad shoulders and a wide chest, and with how his clothes were clinging, it was obvious he was covered in sculpted muscle. As I had a definite type, and he was it, I looked away quickly before he could catch me staring, giving the alpha my attention as he told Reggie and Fletcher to bring me to him.
I didn’t love that. Like “bring the prisoner closer.” But I kept my mouth shut as Fletcher and Reggie flanked me and walked me to the bottom of the stairs. Once there, I was forced to look up at the alpha and his mate. This was all posturing, but it was fine. It was a wolf thing. All the others I’d met over my lifetime were the same way.
“Greetings, Merritt Baker,” the alpha said, addressing me. He had a deep, sort of growly voice, and he, like his son—or technically, his son, like him—was a stunning man. His blond hair had streaks of white and silver in it that made him look distinguished. His mate was beautiful, with a short silver bob, and they both had blue eyes, though hers were far more lovely, the green swirl in them reminding me of those I’d seen on the fae. They were both wrapped up in long robes that could have been what they wore to hang out at home, or something more ceremonial. What was clear was that everyone else was wrapped up, and I was only in a thin gray crew-neck sweater, jeans, and boots. I had to remember to start wearing a coat again. Didn’t want to stick out just because I never got cold.
“Hello,” I returned the greeting. “How should I address you, sir?”
“Alpha will be fine.”
“Yes, Alpha. And your mate?”
“Alpha mate is fine.”
I nodded. “And what would you—”
“First, tell me what pack you originally—”
“No.” His mate interrupted him, dropping his arm and rushing down several steps. “I need to speak to—”
“Hold,” he ordered her, scowling, and joined her quickly before looking down at me. “Are you a lone wolf, Merritt?”
“I’m lone,” I replied, thinking, after a moment, that I probably sounded like a smartass right then. I should have said I was alone instead. But I was a bit irritated about being dragged over there, and I had never been much for interrogations. “But I’m not a wolf.”
There was a ripple of gasps and murmurs from the crowd, but the alpha and his mate didn’t seem surprised by my confession. Or, if they were, they certainly weren’t going to show that to me or anyone else.
“Is there an unseen boundary around your land?” the alpha’s mate asked me.
“There is.”
“And do you have the power to do such a thing?”
Here was the question. Because if I lied, it would be easier. And really, technically, I wasn’t magical. I could draw a boundary, as well as remove one, but that was about the only weapon in my arsenal that directly impacted humans anymore. Or in this case, shifters. All the rest of it—what I’d built, what I’d dug, the collection of trees, the stones, the creatures that had been drawn to my land over the centuries—everything else had simply been made, collected, and shaped over long periods. It wasn’t anything otherworldly, just me fighting boredom, exploring, and bringing things back from all over North America because I could. I had the time.
“I do not,” I said, knowing that if I leveled with her, she and her pack would have reason to fear me.
“Then how was it done?”
“I don’t know. My ancestors heard stories, centuries ago, that these hills were bespelled by a witch. When they were ready to build, they made sure to choose those exact places. In my family, over the years, we’ve found that particular folklore to be true. There are many interesting stories about Appalachia. It’s best to be mindful of all of them and give the woods your respect.”