Текст книги "Alphas burden"

Автор книги: Luna lark

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ALPHA’S BURDEN

REJECTING FATES

BOOK 1

LUNA LARK

ALPHA’S BURDEN

Copyright © 2024 Veronica Eden writing as Luna Lark

All rights reserved.

No parts of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author at this website:

www.lunalarkbooks.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, companies, organizations, locales, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, is unintentional and co-incidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

CONTENTS

Playlist

About the Book

Author’s Note

1. Avery

2. Avery

3. Caden

4. Avery

5. Avery

6. Avery

7. Caden

8. Avery

9. Caden

10. Caden

11. Avery

12. Caden

13. Avery

14. Avery

15. Caden

16. Caden

17. Avery

18. Avery

19. Caden

20. Caden

21. Avery

22. Caden

23. Avery

24. Avery

25. Caden

26. Avery

27. Avery

28. Avery

29. Avery

30. Caden

31. Caden

32. Avery

33. Caden

34. Caden

35. Avery

36. Caden

37. Avery

38. Caden

39. Caden

40. Avery

41. Caden

42. Avery

Epilogue

Thank You + What’s Next?

About Luna Lark

Also by Luna Lark

PLAYLIST

Forest Dream – Sacred Bansuri

Love and War – Fleurie

Burned – Grace VanderWaal

You Put A Spell On Me – Austin Giorgio

Achilles Heel – J. Maya

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me? – Taylor Swift

The Moon Will Sing – The Crane Wives

Nobody – Faith Marie

Fate – H.E.R.

Daylight – David Kushner

Moonrise – Anne Buckle

Runaway– AURORA

The Wolf – PHILDEL

Astronomical – SVRCINA

Power – Isak Danielson

Skin and Bones – David Kushner

Two Roads – J. Maya

Dandelion– Gabbie Hanna

The Killing Kind – Marianas Trench

Artemis – Stephen Rezza

Run Baby Run – The Rigs

Messed Up – Once Monsters, Chloe Adams

Make Me Believe – The EverLove

Empires – Ruelle

My Love Mine All Mine – Mitski

Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back.

– PLATO

ABOUT THE BOOK

Fate chose the worst possible mate

for me…my enemy.

Being bonded to Caden Blackburn used to be all I dreamed of. Those dreams were crushed the moment this pack branded my entire bloodline traitors for challenging his father.

Life in Silver Falls isn’t easy. As the only packmate unable to shift, I’m considered broken. No one wants a useless mate. Especially not Caden. Imperfections don’t fit within the rigid way he rules our pack as alpha.

I never thought he’d look at me with anything other than fury until our bond awakens. Instead of disgust, his gaze burns with desire, reviving feelings I buried once I’m in his powerful arms. We almost succumb to the pull to claim each other as fated mates.

But enemies don’t belong together. He reminds me by rejecting me in front of everyone.

I’ve learned to overcome whatever tries to break me, but in my shattered heart I wonder if I’ll survive the pain of Caden turning his back on me a second time.

Yet if he rejected me…why is he going feral if any other male tries to get near me?

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Dear reader,

Welcome to the Rejecting Fates series!

This shifter romance series features rejected mates who still feel the pull of their fated love rather than in someone new. These pairs will find their guaranteed HEAs with each other after much groveling to earn a second chance with their fated mate.

The fated mate pairs will always end up together in these books.

1AVERY

This is pushing it. I know it, yet I couldn’t pass up this golden opportunity.

Sneaking off packlands is enough of a risk without notifying anyone. Doing it to go to the human town nestled in the foothills at the base of Silver Mountain alone is worse.

Leaving the territory this close to a pack run?

I’m basically asking for our strict alpha to serve me with months of punishment for defying his rules—rules that hardly apply to me. As someone considered Wolfless, I can’t shift and never will. I’m a shifter who has no wolf. My wild instincts are more muted, far easier to control with tonight’s impending full moon.

Compared to the rest of my pack, I’m practically human. My strength, stamina, and senses are hardly better than a strong human male.

It’s not like Alpha Blackburn keeps us from leaving the mountain at all. Anyone from Silver Falls Pack is allowed to visit Ashbury on designated days with supervision. Except those only come once every few months and I’m not likely to have his permission, so that doesn’t work for me.

This is how I’ve adapted to survive.

As long as I’m not caught, it’s fine. I’ve done this hundreds of times before. I have no regrets because sneaking in and out is part of how I make it in a pack of shifters that hate my entire family.

My routine is ironclad—wait for the gap in the scout patrols, leave from the old sloping trail that’s overlooked because of overgrowth, and always stop at the first stream in the foothills to wash off any lingering scent of being around humans before I even step foot on Silver Mountain to return home.

No one ever notices when I’m gone, anyway.

Pausing to lean between the roots of a moss-covered tree, I check the worn leather pack slung across my body for the third time. The corner of my mouth lifts with pride.

Though I lack the blessing of a wolf from the moon goddess, putting me at a huge disadvantage when it comes to things like hunting, I’m still able to provide for my sisters and myself through trading with the people in Ashbury.

The town is small and every year it seems there are less humans around or something new is in disrepair. The younger ones are always talking about getting out, moving to cities.

The residents gladly part with their goods whenever I bring my collection of flora that are difficult for them to obtain from the unforgiving terrain. I don’t have money to pay them otherwise. They’ve grown to rely on me as much as I have in return because the mountain range and river blocks Ashbury off from the accessibility granted to larger, more progressive towns like Davenport or Hillford.

The baker gives enough bread to last us two months for the assortment of mushrooms and wild nuts I find for her. The butcher inside the tiny grocery store has a long-standing arrangement with me. I bring him the rudimentary oils I make from mountain ginger and willow bark to help with the ache in his hands throughout winter better than the medicines his doctors prescribe. In exchange, I get my pick of seconds cuts, hard cheeses, and the candies he always throws in for my sisters.

I scored big for today’s bounty. It isn’t like those usual exchanges. When I snuck into town last week, I heard there’d be a market passing through. I had to make a second trip today for the chance to get rarer things I don’t usually have access to in Ashbury.

I rely on the supplies I’m able to barter from anyone outside, because if I counted on my own pack, we’d be dead by now. The measly allotment of meat distributed weekly by the kitchens is hardly enough to sustain the three of us. I learned that within days of being forced out of our family home at the heart of the pack. After our father’s transgression led to his death by the alpha’s hand, we had to move to the crumbling cottage we live in.

With the coil of wire I secured today, I should be able to finally splice the feeble electricity from an outbuilding near the cottage to run a line to the ice box in the back that’s been dead for years. If I can get it running, it will make our stored food last so much longer. Most of the other cabins and buildings in the pack have electricity. The fanciest, like the Alpha’s lodge and other high-ranking families in good standing, have even more amenities.

I check the contents of my satchel are secure before spotting a lucky find this late in the season twining along a vine climbing the thick tree root. I slip a pair of garden shears I stole from the deep pockets of my green, knee-length coverall dress and brush back strands of light brown hair dangling over my shoulder.

Despite the chill in the air, a shifter’s body temperature always runs warmer. I’m comfortable enough in the dress and short-sleeved shirt beneath.

Crouching down, I admire the tall, bristly appearance of the purple flower shoots blooming on the liatris plant. I have some left from the ones I’ve picked throughout the summer, but I can always use more to help with my youngest sister Lena’s sore throats in the colder months. Once it’s cut, I tie it so it dangles upside-down from the side of my bag as I continue picking my way through the woods.

It’s not much further to the border designating pack territory. There was a time when I could come and go as I pleased rather than sneaking around like this, same as anyone else in the pack. I’d leave the mountain to visit other packs, like my aunt in Timber Hollow Pack, especially after she became the only other family I have besides my sisters. The freedom only lasted through the last couple of years of the previous alpha’s reign, before his son took over as the current alpha. Since then, rules in the pack have grown stricter.

I’m nearly back, undetected as always. It’s lucky the usual patrol schedule isn’t something I have to worry about today, so it’s easy to cross the pack border without worrying about evading someone like Liam Jennings, head of pack security. He’s a stickler for obeying the rules. I’ve learned it’s best to remain unnoticed by anyone in this pack.

A twig snaps. I stifle a gasp, ducking into a circle of bushes to blend in with my surroundings. Straining my ears, I sag in relief when it’s not anyone from Silver Falls, only a deer. I watch it nose at the ground. It lifts its head, ears perked, swiveling in my direction, then behind it. Once it moves on, I linger for another moment, enjoying the sound of the trees rustling.

This is my happy place. Well, this has become my happy place that I’ve discovered for myself. Being in nature, not living in this pack.

That happiness was shredded beyond recognition seven years ago when I was sixteen. The day my life changed forever, going from a prominent and respected family in the pack to the scorned outcast at the bottom of the ranks overnight. My sisters and I are the only ones left bearing the disgraced Morgan name.

I clear the heavy memory of that dark day with a shake of my head and step over the boundary. It’s strange how old magic works. The wards for the pack’s border were set long ago, when shifters and witches weren’t at odds. The invisible threads of magic woven to protect us recognize my blood as a shifter, welcoming me home. If humans hike this far up the mountain—an uncommon feat, but one that’s happened a time or two—the magic deters them, sending them in another direction.

It was designed for a time in the distant past when humans had no idea they weren’t alone in this world amongst countless beings, each with our own unique set of powers and abilities. Shifters, witches, vampires, and the like have all left the shadows to mingle openly with humans. It’s no longer necessary to hide after humans discovered supernaturals weren’t figments of their imaginations from storybooks around forty years ago.

I huff at the irony that we still use the wards so we always have the safety of our dens to return to, as if we’re still hiding our bones away like the beasts we descend from.

An inviting scent of spicy cedar tickles my nose as I reach the narrow path that connects the lower, well-traveled trails to the one that leads home. The loggers must have been through this section to cut trees to replenish the winter firewood store and building material. They often dip into the day’s quota when it’s a full moon to feed the massive bonfire for the pre-run festivities.

I halt, realizing the mistake too late. It’s not the freshly chopped wood for tonight’s bonfire. There’s a male with a massive muscular build ahead. The smell of the forest is coming from him.

It’s all too familiar, tugging harshly on my heartstrings.

Every part of me seizes, my breath catching in my throat and my body rigid. I duck my head, gripping the leather strap so tight the aged leather might disintegrate.

I know the imposing, powerful shifter striding towards me, blocking my path back to the dilapidated remains of a cabin I call home.

Caden Blackburn. He’s Alpha Blackburn to me now.

2AVERY

“What are you doing out here?” Caden demands.

His sharp order is bolstered by his mighty presence. His voice is domineering, expecting compliance, and his broad stature towers over me, jaw set. He’s every bit the alpha I’m meant to bow for.

I swallow, slowly lifting my face to meet his stormy blue glare. Tousled dark brown hair falls across his forehead. This close, his masculine woodsy musk that used to be a comfort to me is overwhelming, even to my muted senses.

This is the first time he’s been near enough to look at me in ages. It still hurts the softest parts of my heart and my pride to see his ire directed at me when he used to look at me so differently.

Back when we were friends. Before he was the one to argue with his father exile was too harsh for three young girls, only to convince him we deserved to be sent to live in the old cottage at the far edges to the north of the packlands, high up the mountain surrounded by hard soil inhospitable to any food I might grow.

My throat stings with the memory of him dragging our things from the nice cabin we lived in after the judgment, burning the broken pile of furniture outside. My childhood home’s been given to someone else now.

Caden must believe he spared us certain death. He only made my life hell after his father killed mine.

His piercing gaze narrows when I remain stubbornly silent. He searches our surroundings as if the trees will whisper my transgressions.

They won’t—or rather, can’t turn their backs on me the way he did. They remain as silent as me, branches creaking and swaying with the breeze. According to the legends shifters pass on to their pups of this land’s history, dryads, the trees’ spirits that once nurtured and protected the natural land from those who would bring harm, fell into deep slumber, long before the maiden of the moon descended from the Heavens and granted the first wolves our ability to shift forms between animal and man.

When I was a girl, I used to murmur to the trees hoping a dryad would talk back to me. It was one of my favorite stories my mother told us when we were small. The idea of ancient magic fascinated me for the vastness of its possibilities.

There was a time it was richly infused all around us. Only witches and other supernatural beings remain to keep it alive.

Caden cocks his head, waiting. His impatience is palpable, an invisible force pulling taut between us to make me answer.

His jaw works, cheek spasming. He folds his arms, the thin material of his shirt stretching over his sculpted biceps and shoulders. His muscles bunch and bulge larger with the low warning rumble vibrating from him. I snap my gaze up to meet his surly expression.

“I don’t have time for this. What,” he repeats, slow and firm, “are you doing all the way out here, Avery?”

The roughness of my name leaving his lips makes my breath hitch. I haven’t heard him say my name since we were teenagers. It’s tinged with his Alpha command, compelling me to obey his wishes.

“Nothing, Alpha Blackburn,” I finally answer after the longest stretch I can get away with, offering the barest dip of my chin.

The title leaves my tongue thick and heavy. It’s difficult to say anything else as bitter memories stir a pang in my heart, flitting through my mind. Running through the forest with Caden when we were young. Splashing each other at the big natural spring everyone swims at and him pushing me in the deep end near the waterfall.

My father clashing with his. Claws slicing through skin. My attention cut to his shoulder, pulse going jagged as our past haunts me.

He’s dissatisfied with the answer. “That doesn’t tell me why you’re out here. Explain yourself.”

I almost choke the liatris clipping when I yank it free of my bag, tucking the satchel behind me. If I keep him distracted, he won’t ask to search it.

“Just on a walk to gather herbs and medicinal plants. Sir,” I tack on after a beat.

My throat stings, clogging with my buried emotions. I deaden my heart to every member of the pack…except when it comes to him.

He glances from the flowering purple stalk in my clutches to my patched up hiking boots, giving me a slow once over, frowning.

“Alone?”

I blink. “Of course.”

It’s not like anyone in the pack other than my sisters would be caught dead hanging out with me. Except Taryn, but she’s a wild she-wolf who just likes the thrill of anything illicit and off-limits.

Another disgruntled rumble leaves him. He opens his mouth as if he’s going to question me further, then tears his attention from me, swiping a hand over his stubbled jaw. I’m reluctant to admit he looks ruggedly handsome when he does that, and my bitter hatred for him grows a new thorn.

“Don’t cause me any more problems than you already have,” he says.

I bite back the caustic reply I want to sling at him, though I can’t quite keep my face clear of my outrage. He gets in my face to intimidate me into submission. I hold my ground, daring to maintain eye contact instead of lowering my gaze.

I shouldn’t even try him like this. He’s the pack alpha. Has been for four years since his father passed.

Giving Caden Blackburn an ounce of attitude, or anything less than my absolute loyalty, is a terrible idea.

At my insolent display, he huffs, carved body seeming to grow larger—the universal sign amongst shifters that they’re feeling their wolf because of high emotions. Still, I don’t give him an inch of ground, instinct pushing me to get closer. My chest rises and falls faster and I slip a hand into my pocket to wrap around my shears. Without the true increased power a wolf would grant me, they’re all I have to defend myself with.

As Alpha, he could decide to make my situation worse whenever he wants for any reason, I remind myself.

Scream it at myself, really, because for some insane reason, I find myself succumbing to instinct by leaning in another inch, daring him to close the scarce gap of space left between us rather than trying to end this so I can get as far from him as possible.

His pupils dilate, blue swirling with the gold of his wolf. I lick my lips, lost to the thrall of the strange moment we’re locked in. We breathe the same air, an invisible tether drawing us together.

My heart pounds, stomach tightening as he begins to dip his nose.

Is he going to scent me?

He lingers at my jaw, chest rising and falling. Awareness of him tingles through me, warmth pooling in my core.

The broad expanse of his rugged body.

The heat of him bleeding through my clothes.

The taste of his spicy musk on my tongue.

Caden jerks back with a grunt before reaching my neck, coming to his senses. I release a shaking breath, unsure what just transpired between us.

Or why part of me…wanted him to graze his nose along my neck to mix our pheromones together so I’d smell like him. I blink rapidly, ignoring the flush spreading through my body.

He stares at me, eyes narrowing at my hand still in my pocket. I step back too slowly for his full shifter speed. His grip yanks my arm free, growling when he sees the shears.

“You’ve always been your father’s daughter, haven’t you?” he accuses.

“No,” I grit out.

“No?” His handsome features contort with anger. “You weren’t trying to get close enough to stab me with these? That’s not how challenging the alpha works.”

He wrenches them from me with little effort and brandishes them in my face. I foolishly try to snatch them back. He blocks me with his arm. I retreat, blowing out a frazzled exhale.

“It’s not—I wasn’t.” I rub my forehead and screw my eyes shut as I push out the words. “I wasn’t going to use them. You know I’d never be a match for your strength if you… They were only meant for protection.”

He goes rigid, scrutinizing me in stony silence for several harrowing heartbeats. I can’t read his expression.

“Go home, Avery,” he bites out at last as he tosses the shears to the ground.

He storms past me, running his fingers through his hair. I watch him until he’s out of sight, then hiss tightly, throat burning as I sink to my knees beside the discarded shears. I bury my face in my hands until my body stops trembling from the flood of adrenaline and tears stop pricking my eyes.

I scrub at them and push to my feet with a huff. That was reckless, but I survived it. At least he didn’t find out about the actual rules I broke by going to town.

Seizing my abandoned shears, I spot the trampled cutting I dropped when Caden grabbed me. One of us stepped on it from the looks of how crushed it is.

Sighing, I brush it off as best I can. Hopefully I can salvage something useful out of it.