Chapter 23: Lottie

Just as he promised, Hunter slept on the couch and didn't once try to sneak into my room and share the bed with me. Unfortunately, I wouldn't have minded snuggling up close to him in human or wolf form. They're both very cuddly.

I spent a reasonable amount of time staring out my window last night, unable to fall asleep with everything running through my mind. Eventually, my eyes grew heavy, and I fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

The smell of coffee—non-burnt coffee—brewing lulls me from that sleep. Soft golden rays of sunlight slip in through the picturesque window.

Stretching, I slip out of bed and make my way to the kitchen. There's already a fire crackling in the fireplace, warming the small cabin and keeping away the cold chill of the autumn morning. September in southern California isn't nearly this cool. I'm thankful Luna warned me of the weather before coming so I could pack warm pajamas.

Hunter stands in the kitchen, his back turned to me, his head tilted to focus on something on the stove. He's still wearing the sweats and shirt from last night, and I take a moment to admire his firm ass through the flimsy material. Just as nice as it was last night.

"Good morning," I call out, pulling his attention from the stove.

He turns, and his face brightens with a wide smile. "Good morning, sleepy head. I was wondering when you were going to wake up."

The clock hanging on the wall reads eight-fifteen. That's not that late. My brow furrows, and I look back to Hunter, who's still smiling at me but keeping a watchful eye on the pan before him.

"It's not even nine. How early do you get up to think eight fifteen is late?"

He shrugs and returns to stirring the contents of the pan, giving me his back once again. I take another lingering look at his butt before crossing to see what he's cooking.

"I'm usually up and out of the house by seven. Early bird gets the worm and all that," he chuckles.

"Well, I don't like worms," I state, peeking around his shoulder to the stove. "Whatcha cookin'?"

"Breakfast," he says, like I couldn't tell that.

"Obviously, but what specifically?"

Hunter steps to the side to show me the pans. One pan has scrambled eggs with chunks of green veggies, and another has bacon and sausage. I'm pretty sure I didn't have any of those things besides the eggs in my fridge.

"Where did you get all this?"

"My house. I woke early and made a quick trip since you had nothing beyond cereal."

Inhaling the delicious aroma, my stomach grumbles greedily. Hunter laughs and leans over to kiss the top of my head as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Out of shock I don't respond because I have no idea how to. Our relationship seems to be shifting drastically, and although I'm not opposed to it, I have no idea what we are to one another.

"Why don't you get some coffee and take a seat, food will be done shortly."

Nodding awkwardly, I go to fill my cup and sigh with delight at the taste of the warm, bitter bean juice—so much better than the burnt dirt water I was making.

I sit and watch Hunter move around the kitchen, completely at home in the space. Though I suppose he would be, this is his cabin after all. I'm sure he's spent many days and nights here to know exactly where every teaspoon is kept.

He makes two plates and a cup of coffee, then sits across from me at the small dining table.

The food looks mouthwatering.

"Dig in," he commands with a wave of his fork, already piled high with eggs.

He shoves the full fork in his mouth, and I follow suit, moaning when I bite into a perfectly crispy piece of bacon. We don't talk much as we eat, and it isn't until Hunter's cleared the plates and refilled our coffee that he does.

"I've asked Ginger to come over and keep you company today, maybe answer any remaining questions you have. I hope that's okay."

"Yeah. That would be great. I'd love a girl's day."

And I can ask her all the other questions I didn't have the nerve to ask Hunter specifically about the possibility of being a mate and whatever the hell that entails.

We don't have to wait long before Hunter stands, as if he heard something outside, listening carefully before grinning down at me.

"Ginger's here, or almost. She's just down the driveway."

Wow, can he hear her that far away and distinguish her car from others? Remind me never to whisper secrets anywhere near a shifter.

Slipping his hand into mine, he helps me stand and pulls me into the circle of his arms. A move so simple and yet so monumental, again with the ease and comfort of someone who's done it a thousand times. Apparently, he's done distancing himself from me.

His embrace is strong but comforting, a presence that eases me deeper into his embrace. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I allow him to hold me and myself to hold him. As strange as this all is, it's also easy. Right. And I haven't had either of those things in many years.

Leaning into his touch, I rest my cheek against his chest, which swells against my face with a deep breath. His heart a steady beating drum in my ear, further drawing me in.

Pulling away just enough to look down at me, Hunter bends to nuzzle his nose against my temple.

"Be good today, Nightingale. Stay with Ginger, and don't go anywhere alone. I still don't know if Vincent's men will try anything again. And I couldn't forgive myself if something happened to you."

The part of me that prickles at trying to be controlled eases only at the sound of the concern in his voice. For him, for now, I'll do as he asks. But I will not let this Vincent asshole ruin everything I've gained. I will not allow anyone to ever control my life again.

"Fine. But only because you asked so nicely. Don't expect me to follow commands like a trained dog just because you gave them."

His chest rumbles with a chuckle between us, and I can feel the smile on his lips as he presses them closer to my skin.

"I wouldn't dream of it, little bird."

Those inquisitory lips of his make their way down the side of my face and don't stop until they find mine. Pressing soft but firm with a greedy tenderness that makes my knees go weak. Thankfully, Hunter is holding me, or I'd make a fool of myself by falling to the ground at his feet. The kiss deepens, his tongue brushing against my lips and then stroking inside. He tastes like bacon and coffee.

My body tingles and burns with desire, my nipples hardening to stiff peaks, which rub shamelessly against Hunter's hard muscles, causing him to groan into our kiss. His cock thickens against my stomach, only making my desire grow, my panties getting damper by the second.

The kiss goes on until there's a knock at the door. I don't know how long we stood there, but the spell is broken the moment Ginger's loud and demanding voice booms from the other side of the front door.

"Open up, you horn dog. I can smell you both, and I'd rather not walk in on anything involving my brother's naked ass."

We both laugh, and Hunter only releases his hold on me after another small peck on my lips. His erection tenting his sweats in a very obvious display of his response to our little make-out session. Gripping his cock through his pants, he adjusts himself, tucking his hard length up so it at least isn't an arrow pointing directly at me and what we were leading up to had she not interrupted.

Turning to the front door, he calls out to his sister. "No one is naked, you perv."

He opens the door and waves for Ginger to enter. She does so with the flourish of a spring chicken. Dressed in another of her fashionable outfits with thigh-high russet suede boots that almost perfectly match her hair and an ivory sweater dress that flares from her narrowed waist. Her high fashion ensemble is out of place among my flannel pajamas and Hunter's sweatpants.

"Hello, darlings. Everything tucked away?" she asks haughtily as she saunters into the cabin, travel coffee mug in hand.

Hunter grins and shakes his head at his sister, stepping through the open door behind her.

"Be good, Ginger, and stay put. I'll text you when I know something."

With a longing look filled with blatant carnal promises, Hunter backs out of the cabin. Leaving me flushed and horny while his sister looks on with amused mirth.

"So, Hunter finally told you he was your big bad wolf, huh?"

I roll my eyes at her but chuckle. Hunter is never going to live that down.

~

"Okay, so let me get this right," Ginger and I have been sitting for over an hour now discussing things, primarily mate things but also about Hunter being an alpha, and I think I have it all figured out. Maybe. "So, mate bonds are formed differently for each type of non-human that can have mates, but for shifters, it starts with a smell?"

"Yes. Smell and scent are very important to shifters; it's our first indication of a mate pull."

"Okay, so you smell this person, and they smell like extra super awesome. Then if you touch that person, the mate pull increases, making you, like, extra horny and sensitive to their touch?"

That would explain why Hunter was so adamant about not touching me. He was trying not to get turned on or further progress the mate bond. I wonder why I can feel its effects as well? Because of my non-human ancestry? From what it sounds like, I shouldn't and don't have any non-human attributes other than a lingering blood connection to a long-dead great-great-grandfather or grandmother. I shouldn't be affected in the same way he is. For now, I keep that to myself. At least until I learn a little bit more about their world.

"Basically, yes. Or so I've been told. I haven't experienced it myself," Ginger confirms.

She is way too excited about all this, and I'm not sure if it's because I am—or used to be—a celebrity, because she's my friend, or because she just really likes watching her brother squirm.

"Okay. After the touching thing to solidify the mate bond, we, or the couple, would have to . . ." My cheeks redden as I recall what comes next. "Mate under a full moon, and during climax, the male will bite the female to complete the bond."

"Not the male specifically but the more dominant partner, sometimes that's the female. But either way, yes. The chase builds the desire and anticipation. Chasing is a bit of a kink for shifters." Ginger winks at me conspiratorially, and I think back to when I asked Hunter to go on a run with me. Does he think I was propositioning him? Was I?

Ginger continues, completely ignoring my wide-eyed stare.

"Once they chase and fuck the mixing of DNA and essences, it connects the two on a biological and magical level we don't quite understand. We know that once the bond is made, the one with the shorter life span gains the life span of the other."

Right, because shifters live hundreds of years, as I've just learned. And others, like the fairies, can live for thousands. Non-humans also age slower than humans, which is why Dottie looks the same age as her son even though she's eighty-freakin-five years old. I'm thankful to learn Hunter isn't older than he appears; he actually is thirty, but Ryder, on the other hand, turns out to be fifty-five. Damn, I wish I aged like them.

I suppose if I mate with Hunter , I will.

That's a thought that'll stop you in your tracks. Mated to a wolf shifter and able to live for hundreds of years. The idea isn't unappealing. Although scary, it is still intriguing.

Ginger continues with her mate bond explanation. "Not only do they gain the same life span to ensure they spend the most time together, but they also gain a type of sixth sense. Able to feel the presence of their mate. Like a locator beacon. As well as being able to feel when they're in physical pain. It's an old connection meant to allow one to be able to find their mate if they were in trouble to protect them."

She rolls her head to give me a sardonic look from her spot on the couch next to me. "If you haven't noticed by now, shifters are very protective."

"Oh, I've noticed."

"Anyway, that's about the gist of things when it comes to shifter mates as far as I know," she concludes, tilting her head to rest on the couch.

"So, nothing weird happens to the mates, at least physically? I wouldn't sprout fur and a tail if I were to complete a mate bond with Hunter?"

Just saying it out loud has a lump forming in my throat. I'd barely been considering getting involved with Hunter for a short tryst, and here I am, talking about forming a permanent mate bond with him, even though I've only kissed him twice.

Ginger barks out a laugh, lifting her head to stare at me.

"No, you won't sprout a tail and start howling at the moon. The change is only internal, nothing external. You would still be you but for much longer than anticipated."

"That doesn't sound so bad."

Again, my cheeks redden as I mentally prepare to ask another intimate question. "And the mating part. Do they do that in their true form?" I tentatively ask, hoping she doesn't realize what I'm really asking.

"Usually, yes. The bonding ritual has traditionally been done in their true form."

So, if I were to go through with a mate bond ceremony with Hunter, he would be in his true form? With the monster cock he mentioned before? I may have jokingly teased him that I could handle that, but in truth, it sounds frightening to even attempt such a feat.

I sink into the couch cushions, curling my knees up against my chest and wrapping my arms around them. I changed out of my pajamas and into leggings and a sweater, which are not nearly as stylish as Ginger's, but these days, I go for comfort over style. Mostly.

Nibbling on my cuticle, I stare off into space, trying to figure out how something like that could possibly work without damaging my insides.

How deep can a cock go before it starts to cause damage? I've seen those giant foot-long dildos, but can people really fit that whole thing inside? With my mother overlord, I never got to participate in the orgies and sex parties celebrities like to partake in behind locked doors away from the media. So, my experiences with sex and kinks land more on the average Joe spectrum rather than the experienced, knowledgeable kinky.

Ginger must notice my inner turmoil because she chuckles, drawing my attention to her amused expression.

"Not with you though, Lottie. Since you're human and far smaller than Hunter in his true form, he would shift down for you. To whatever degree you both wish. He can retain certain characteristics if you like that kind of thing. Claws, tail . . . girth." She wiggles her eyebrows at me, and I blush even further.

I do kind of like his tail.

"He can be fully human or not. As I said, most take their true form but not always when there are differences. Evelyn is a nymph, and her mate is a shifter. She was able to take him in his true form because of her magic, but he still shifted down some to accommodate her size."

"Are all non-human couples mated? Hunter said something about it being somewhat rare."

She shakes her head and adjusts the hem of her dress across her crossed knees.

"There are many who are and many who aren't. Most just get married as humans would. Pledging their love and lives to one another. Some participate in the act of a mate bond ceremony but don't actually form the mate bond. It's a great gift to find a mate."

Ginger sighs wistfully, and her expression becomes one of yearning I understand. We all want that one person who fills in the gaps, who completes you and compliments you perfectly, who loves you unconditionally, and who protects and supports you no matter what.

Supposedly, Hunter is that to me, and I am to him. Made for one another, a perfect partner. I can't say it isn't tempting, that he isn't tempting. Because he is. I want him; I can't deny that. To have him and to be loved and accepted for hundreds of years together? That's something I can't ignore.

"Well, that's enough of that; let's talk about something else. Like, can you get me access to couture lines direct from the designer?"

With that, we fall into an easy conversation about fashion and designers and what it was like to attend fashion week in Paris. Ginger forces me to promise to take her one year, which I do. Even if I decide to step down from the limelight, I am still Alexandria and can get into any fashion show I want.