Page 70 of Cursed Bonds: An Alpha's Destiny

The midsummer night was still bright, with the setting sun casting orange rays over the town. Jace laced his fingers in mine, and we strolled down the sidewalk, enjoying the warm air and peace of the town.

An older woman stepped out of a shop and almost bumped into us. “Oh my goodness,” she said. “I’m sorry, Jace. I didn’t even see you there.”

Jace smiled politely. “It’s all right, Sandra. How are you tonight?”

“I’m fine, I was just…” she trailed off as her eyes latched onto our interlocked hands. A shadow of disapproval crossed her face. “Um, I was doing a bit of shopping,” she managed, then nodded toward me. “Is this the famous witch we’ve heard so much about?” The tenor in her voice was strained. She was upset that I was with Jace and was doing her best to hide it.

I felt naked, exposed. I tried to tug my hand free, but Jace kept his eyes on the woman and tightened his grip on my hand.

“This is Kirsten Holly,” Jace said with an affirmative nod.

“Uh-huh.” The woman was older even for a shifter, so she must have been two centuries old. And was probably a pack elder if I had to guess. “Jace.” She smiled and turned her face from me, almost as though I wasn’t there, lowering her voice to make it so that only Jace could hear. She failed.

“Is this really proper? Most of us were hoping that perhaps you and Stephanie Bridges might—”

“Enough.” All kindness vanished from his voice, his alpha aura pulsing out, making my knees weak. The woman jerked back, lowering her head in subservience to her alpha.

“I’m sorry, Jace,” she whispered, her face the portrait of mortification.

“Kirsten is with me. She’s part of my life,” Jace snapped, power emanating from his voice. “I’ll be addressing the pack about it soon.”

That was news to me. What kind of address did he have to give? Then I understood exactly what was going on. I was a witch, he was a shifter. This was about who he was supposed to be with. Did Jace really have to justify his relationship to his pack? How ridiculous.

“I understand,” the woman said. Despite Jace’s obvious anger, she glanced at me again. “But she’s a witch.”

It was my turn to speak now. “I’m a person, ma’am,” I said. “I don’t need to hear you disrespecting me like that. I can’t control what I was born as, and I won’t apologize for that. Would you say the same thing if I was a human?”

The flustered woman stammered, “I’m sorry, I, uh, I didn’t mean any disrespect. I’m… I’ll go now. I’m sorry.”

She scurried across the street, desperate to get out from under the angry gaze of her alpha.

A black pit opened in my stomach. “Is that how everyone feels?”

Jace wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close to his side. “It’s fine. Some of the older generation will have a hard time with it, and perhaps a few of the others.” He lifted my chin and forced me to meet his gaze. “But you’re mine, and I’m yours. Like I said, a huge majority of the town approves of you being here. They’re happy. Don’t forget that. Don’t let a few old assholes make you feel bad.”

I nodded, smiling weakly. We walked down the street, trying to enjoy our night again. It was difficult, and I managed to keep my true feelings hidden, but the whole interaction had a bitter taste in my mouth.

Chapter 20

Jace

The interaction with Sandra Donehue had left me in a foul mood. I’d always liked the woman, but she was most definitely of the older mentality. She didn’t have the same outlook I and the younger generations had. I was sure others in the pack would think the same thing about genetic purity or some such shit, but that didn’t matter—not when fate had placed Kirsten and me together. If they wanted to bitch and moan, they could take it up with whatever god handled that.

My mood hadn’t improved when I woke up the next morning and remembered that it was going to be a very busy and tedious day. Once a month, I had what the town called an open house, which was a smaller version of our yearly pack meetings. People could stop by and discuss smaller pack issues that didn’t need to be brought up in the big meeting or more severe issues that couldn’t wait until the next one.

The open house was always held at my place, which meant I needed to get up and straighten things a bit before half the town walked through my house. The rest of my council would also be in attendance to assist with questions and planning.

I’d just finished filling the dishwasher and wiping down the counters when Waylan and Langston arrived. Abigail and Stephanie came in a few minutes later. Stephanie didn’t meet my eyes, and I didn’t interact with her while we prepared to welcome pack members.

The first attendant was a man I’d known well for the better part of a century. Brandon Donnalley.

“Jace,” he said, nodding as he took a seat on the sofa.

Waylan put a platter of snacks on the coffee table between us. I always made sure to have food for anyone coming to talk. It was the least I could do for my pack, especially when they’d taken time out of their day to come discuss problems.

“Brandon, what can I do for you?”

“I hate doing this. You know me, I’m not one to complain.”

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