Page 2 of Delivered to My Shadow Unicorn Alphas

Chapter Two

Juven

“How can you read in the dark?” our neighbor Gillian asked. It wasn’t night, for the record. I simply lounged against the trunk of a tree, minding my own business as the clouds of a summer storm had rolled in.

“It’s the perfect amount of light,” I answered, barely glancing up from my novel. Shaman, my bond brother, and the only other shadow unicorn in existence around here, liked the shorter books. He preferred to plow through three or four a week. I liked to take my time, pouring myself into one long, wonderful story for up to a month at a time.

“A storm is rolling in.” Her head tilted up toward where dark clouds rolled along the sky. Thunder vibrated the earth; streaks of lightning lit the spaces in between.

“It is. I should get in before it ruins the pages.”

One of her reddish eyebrows rose. Gillian was a witch. A good one by all accounts. Most of her talents lay in the kitchen, and we reaped the benefits of our camaraderie. Baking lay at the center of her talents, along with a warming winter stew. “You should be out finding your mate.”

“Yes.” I got up and dusted off my pants.

“You’ll find her. Don’t you worry. Oh, I’m baking a loaf of cranberry pecan bread tonight. I’ll bring you two over a loaf. I baked a ton this morning.”

“Thank you, Gillian. I’m sure Shaman is cooking up something that would go perfectly with it.”

We parted ways as lightning flashed and thunder rumbled louder. Gillian pretended to be afraid of the storm but soon, if we glanced out the window, we would be able to see her dancing underneath the fresh plops of rain, a smile on her face,a youthful glint in her eyes. We wouldn’t peek though. Gillian preferred her rain dances in the nude, and we had learned to give her privacy.

“We should run tonight. It’s the perfect time,” Shaman said as I went into his domain, the kitchen. I managed our finances and took care of the mundane things he didn’t prefer while he made magic in the kitchen.

But that didn’t mean our life was ordinary.

“After the fair, of course.”

“Of course.” Our kitchen was alive with the sounds of Shaman’s cooking. Most shifters and magical kind celebrated the summer solstice on one day but here, in the mystic mountains, we celebrated the turning of the seasons for a week. At least.

Tonight was a community feast. A small one, compared to what was to come, but each one was special.

“Gillian mentions us finding a mate more and more,” I said, nibbling on a lemon bar laced with a river of strawberry jam.

“It can’t be louder than the mentions in my head. That beast of mine wants his mate. And you know it can’t be just anyone. Fate has already chosen. All we have to do is find them.”

I chuckled but there was no humor in it. “Simple as that?” I asked.

“Yes. Simple and complicated as that. Did you drop off Fiona’s package?”

Fiona was a wolf shifter who had just given birth to triplets. She didn’t live far from here and had always given to the community in her own way. She took in orphans of all kinds. Some who were shunned by humans. Some rejected by shifter parents for not being alpha enough or strong enough. No reason made sense. They were babies. Babies.

Fiona welcomed them all to her home, so, when she had some of her own, we made sure she was taken care of. Noone would know it was us. We made anonymous donations to the community fund for her and, this morning, I’d dropped off groceries and baby clothes in the hour before dawn.

It was the least we could do.

After all, Fiona’s mother took me in when I was only a teenager. My parents were slaughtered for their horns. They had lured the human hunters away from me so I didn’t die.

Shaman came from a different line of unicorns, but we were so similar that our bond was instant.

We lived under the shadow of that sacrifice. The best thing we could do was be generous and live as best we could. Our families had left us money. We had that. Plenty of it.

What we needed were mates.

But living in the mountains where we were hidden from society didn’t give us a lot of opportunity to meet someone.

“I dropped off the package.”

“That’s good. Thank you.”

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