Northern Lands: Bound by fate

Chapter 7

ZANDER

Zander ~ Just our luck, to be mated to a stubborn fae.

Conan ~ She just needs time.

Zander ~ How are you so sure?

Conan ~ The same way that I am sure that you're driving to Kenna to whine about it right now.

Conan wasn't wrong, as I was revving the motorcycle on the way to the Drunk Kraken, to blow off some steam after the confrontation with Calandra, my reluctant fated mate.

While I normally enjoyed the scenery as I cruised my motorcycle through the vast landscapes of Northern Lands, today I had only one thought on the forefront of my mind. Forget. Even only for a moment.

I throttled the engine, making it purr and upping its speed, putting distance between myself and the flower shop. I had confronted Calandra and received some sort of answer to the burning questions. But she was still afraid, not ready to trust me with the entirety of her secret, even though I had promised her my silence.

And my words were as good as gold. I would never put my mate in harm's way. Wolves had an innate need to protect their female, it was embedded in our being. Even though Conan grumbled in my mind for my possessive trail of thoughts, he was willing to give her time; to wait for her. Werewolves lived for a long time, and he was a spirit given to me by the Moon Goddess upon birth. If there was one of us two that had time, it was Conan.

I wanted to give her time, but I needed answers all the same. It was clear she had rejected me because of something from her past that had her terrified. My internal battle was split between giving Calandra everything she needed, and the Gamma role to provide and protect.

At least now she knew I wasn't backing off. I would challenge her and push her until she craved me the same way as her proximity had driven me wild. But, to do that, I needed to let go of the anger that whipped at me, like lashings of chilly wind straining against my skin, leaving red marks in its wake.

The turmoil in my head finally died down, and I parked my bike in front of the Drunk Kraken, noticing the rush after lunch had passed. The scent of food and spices still hung in the air; the smell of bacon, scrambled eggs and lavender-rosemary freshly baked bread. My nostrils flared to take it all in, my stomach growling as I hadn't eaten, and I salivated to take a bite.

When I entered the Drunk Kraken, there was soft rock music sounding from the vinyl player, and I spotted Kenna staring daggers from behind her bar to a disheveled Abraxas, sitting on his own at one of the tables.

"I can't get rid of him. He's been sitting in the same place, wallowing in pity like a fool." Kenna pointed to Abraxas, who was searching for the solutions to his life's dilemmas in a bowl-sized cup of coffee. "I tried to talk to him, though."

It surprised me that Kenna had wanted to help, so I had to ask. "And what advice did you give when you heard him out?" I looked back at the warlock. The bar was empty except for him.

"I tuned out when he began whining uncontrollably about how stupid he was or something last night." She waved her hand dismissively. "Ate breakfast and now nursing a coffee in the biggest cup I could find in my kitchen. It belonged to a giant."

I laughed at her bluntness. She probably just wanted to clear the table and get him out before other customers came in and started complaining about his dark and sulking aura.

"Don't blame me," Kenna countered. "I have told you before that the path to inner peace begins with four words,"Kenna threw her arms in surrender into the air. "Not my fucking problem," she counted the words lifting for each one a finger.