The Alpha's Cursed Mate

Chapter 36

The sunlight shining through the windows in Alexei's study promises the beginning of warmer and warmer temperatures. The ground will thaw, dormant plants will renew, and we will finally escape this seeming perpetual winter.

Over the past few days, Alexei and I have been diligently progressing our bond, occupying the same spaces and linking arms or holding hands as we transfer from one side of the keep to another. And although my desires are less bearable than they were after drinking shifter blood, I have grown attached to our new, shared routines.

"It's a shame you can't stomach wine. We'll be receiving plenty of casks from the East Islands next shipment," Alexei says while flipping through a bundle of parchments.

"What about shipments from the west? I miss sun fennel tarts and stewed edarin more than wine."

"I don't trade as frequently with Western tradesmen."

I perk up. "How come?"

"There is a higher risk trading with Western vendors. Goods could be less than promised or damaged during conveyance, especially if it's sailing from the West. Many boats have sunk passing the Tanisian and barrels are cracked on high waves."

"That has yet to happen to me," I brag slyly and return my attention to my parchments noting any significant events or situations happening in my territory — notes sent from the few people who do work for me in and out of my keep.

Alexei straightens a stack of papers against his desk top. "Then you've been in luck."

Or I listened to Tabitha when she read my stones, I think to myself.

"Well, I'm sure a small shipment of crops would go perfectly fine. I'd be willing to try regular food again if it's Western," I add.

A firm knock strikes the door twice, and Alexei calls, "Come in."

One of the two doors opens, and in enters a young man holding a slip of parchment: a message. He brings it to his Alpha and leaves it on the edge of the desk before turning back the way he came and exiting silently. I stare at the small folded parchment while Alexei doesn't seem piqued by it; he reads over one thing and organizes another before reaching and opening the message.

"What is it?" I ask before he has time to find out.

His face gives nothing away while he reads. I sit up on the sofa and my parchments shuffle in my lap. When he clears his throat, I become still. "It's a request. The Alphas on this side of the continent want to meet — I'm guessing they decided this after they received my letters."

"Who in particular?"

"Davra, Pollard, Bythe—"

"Alpha Davra? Why would he agree to this? Surely Gaius disagrees."

"Gaius has little say in the matter," Alexei mutters and drops the slip to his other parchments. "It's tradition. When Alphas meet there is a great amount of discretion involved — not even the temple holds the right to disclosure. The only requirement is that enough Alphas agree to meet in the first place, and they have to go alone — no advisors, priests, or Lunas — under the requisite of discussion over violence."

So Alexei must go alone; the other Alphas will never consider me one of them. "And the discussion is me?"

Alexei looks into my eyes.

"When?"

"Tonight," he says with a tinge of regret.

"Okay. And where?"

He gestures to the fallen message. "The location isn't supposed to be shared, so you can not say anything to anyone, but it's to the south of Pollard's territory. That location only makes it clear who's organizing the meeting; Pollard is loyal to Davra, but he must still be questioning Gaius' and Davra's claims to want this."