The side door suddenly opens, my father backing through it with an armful of firewood. He grins at the sight of us, dumping the wood into the basket near the fire.
"Meara baby, you're home."
I manoeuvre around the clutter to give him a hug. "Hey Dad."
He shifts his attention to my mate, a moment of disbelief flaring in his eyes as he holds his hand out. "Sire, very nice to meet you, son."
"Nice to meet you too, Edgar."
"Sit, sit before you smack your head," he says, laughing a little at Sire's bowed head. "I'll get busy lighting the fire."
"Allow me."
Sire brushes my father away, kneeling in front of the fire. I watch him with wide eyes. Has Sire ever lit a fire in his life?
He leans down and settles a few pieces of wood in position before he waves his hand and the wood erupts into flames.
Magic. Cheater.
"Well aren't you a good man," father exclaims, oblivious to Sire's tricks. "Meara, you choose well."
I swallow thickly. Well, here goes...
"I didn't choose Sire. He's my mate," I breathe.
Both parents pause, my mothers ladle clattering against the edge of the pot as she drops it into the stew.
"Mate?"
"Mate!"
"Don't freak out, I swear to-"
"Oh my goodness, how wonderful. Sire, come here and give me a hug," mother gushes. She grabs at his shoulders, forcing her arms around him. Being the gracious man he is he hugs her back, laughing a little.
"I've never heard such good news. Meara, I was wondering what happened to that stupid boy Case," father says. I don't think I've ever seen a smile so wide.
I rub the back of my neck as mother finally let's Sire go.
"Him and I are done," I assure them. "I'm with Sire now."
"I'm so pleased for you both." Mother returns to her pot, ladling the stew into the bowls. "Now, I must know everything."
"You're smothering us, mother," I grumble, sitting down at the table. Sire sits next to me, giving me a warm smile.
"How did you find out?" Father asks from across the table.
"I'm new to this Pack. I came from far away, and I came into Meara's café looking for a drink. Our hands brushed when she was handing me one," Sire explains.
We curated this story earlier. It needed to be simple, plausible. Something neither of my parents would ever question.
"How romantic," father says.
Mother sets the bowls in front of us before sitting down herself. "You're a handsome man, Sire. Meara is so lucky."
"I'm lucky. Your daughter is wonderful." Sire smooths his hand down my thigh under the table. My breath hitches, but only for a moment.
"How sweet."
"These tattoos are interesting. What do they mean?" Father asks, motioning to Sire's collar, which reveals the bare skin at the top of his chest.
He smooths his sleeves back, showing where they extend down his arms to his hands. "They are actually markings. I was born with them."
My eyes widen. I didn't know that...
YOU ARE READING
The Curse Of The Alpha
Werewolf"So you're a virgin, then." He says it so blatantly it rattles me to the core. "No! I mean, would it matter if I were?" "I suppose not," he muses, his gaze shifting back to me. "But when I look at you, I want to violently fuck you until you cannot m...
