Page 13 of Knot Quite Ready

I’ve never met one in person before. They’re notoriously territorial bout letting people into or near their herd. I knew there was a herd in Cabria Falls, the Swiftwater Herd, but seeing as how they didn’t work in town, only on their lands, I didn’t meet any. I know of one horse shifter, Calian Swiftwater, who is the head of the Council in this area, but I had never met him either, so I had no idea what he looked like. Although, it is a good thing I haven’t met him, seeing as how the council rarely looks for you until you get on their radar, and I was okay with not being anywhere near their radar.

Paige inclines her head with respect which he mimics before giving me a wink and spinning on her heel to walk back towards the front of the restaurant—another move that makes my confusion ramp up several notches; a predator showing deference to a non-predator.

He steps closer to grab my hand, bringing it to his lip to place a chaste kiss, “you must be Aneira. Lovely to meet you.”

I pull my hand back and pause momentarily to admire his rich, posh accent, something out of a Bridgerton episode.

“Hmm, you must not be Ralph, seeing as you are not a cougar shifter, and I don’t think Storm would have mixed that up. So, you know who I am, but who are you? Other than a viscount who apparently still kisses hands in greeting?”

His warm laugh envelops me, although it does nothing to perk up Agatha, who I feel hovering, watching this shifter with extreme interest. Although why her curiosity is peaked, she wouldn’t tell me—moody ass wolf.

He pulls out my chair without responding, draping a napkin over my lap before settling opposite me and pouring us each a glass of red wine. I'm still waiting for his response as he eases back into his chair and pins me with a look that feels soul-deep, as if he knows all of my secrets and is ready to lay them out on the table to dissect them further in a weird, satanic, demonic horse shifter ritual.

I feel Agatha push to the forefront, her gaze meeting his over the rim of his wine glass, and I take that second to look at him—really look at him. Hair longer than my own, straight and tied at the base of his neck, his soft yet hard features accentuated by his thick lips. As handsome as he is, his face looks like it hasn't seen a smile in a while, as if he was rarely one for unnecessary laughter. Yet... I think to myself with a slight turn of my head, he feels warm, safe. His eyes flash as his shifter counterpart comes forward just enough for me to fall into his gaze, into a bottomless pit of untold stories that span several lifetimes.

He is indeed safe. His shifter soul is very old, very powerful. But he is good.

I almost respond out loud to Agatha when I'm suddenly hit with a wave of power so profound it almost knocks me out of my chair. Storm was right about one thing; he was most certainly an Alpha. However, he wasn't just any Alpha... No, with power this deep, he could only be...

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Alpha Calian Swiftwater. You may call me Calian," he bows his head ever so gently, and I almost swallow my tongue. Of course, Agatha would recognize a shifter of his strength before I could register it. And, of course, she would keep it from me since she was still cranky about Casimir.

"Well, that explains why I didn't recognize you. It is a pleasure to meet you, Council..."

"Calian, call me Calian. And yes, I may know of you as is my duty, but we have not had the pleasure of meeting. So I'm glad it is on peaceful terms," he smiles.

I’m temporarily blinded by his beauty. But, wow. That smile could knock the panties off of geriatric grandmas with broken hips.

I register what he says and am glad it was on peaceful terms too. Anyone on the Council of Shifters, no matter where their jurisdiction was, is not someone to take lightly. As much as I hated shifter politics, we still had to adhere to certain universal laws, even if we weren’t directly associated with a pack. And technically, you weren’t supposed to ever be without a pack association. So the fact that he knew of me, and yet I was still left to my own devices, made it clear that at least he wasn’t a Council asshole.

The Swiftwaters, though? I had to hold back a whistle of admiration. The Swiftwater pack was notorious for their secrecy but more so because their breed, The Shire, was dying out. So they werethe lastpackin the entire United Kingdom. I couldn’t even imagine how that must feel for them as a whole, but as the Alpha, it must be even more heart-wrenching. Alpha Swiftwater was a hell of an Alpha, making a name for himself even after taking the mantle from his late father. He was a brutal fighter, ruthless with his protection, but widely respected as a loving Alpha to his people. His family had held a place in shifter politics for hundreds of years.So…yeah…fuck…

Still…

I clear my throat and reach to take a sip…okay, chug of my wine, “Hmm… me too. Although, I am curious why you are here tonight. I was supposed to be meeting someone else, and forgive me, but it’s pretty damn rare to see a horse shifter let alone a Swiftwater Alpha, out in the wild, or should I say field?”

I almost laugh at his expression, and he shakes his head and sighs. By his reaction, he has most definitely met Storm and had prepared for an onslaught of the mere possibility of verbal vomit. But the question was valid because, despite their ongoing position in the shifter council, the Swiftwater Alphas didn’t make their presence known often in public, choosing, instead, to stick behind the scenes and tend to the needs of their pack. So the fact that he decided to come out here made me more than curious.

“Yes, you were supposed to be meeting Ralph, my enforcer. However, I came in his stead because we have something in common. A shared interest, if you will.”

My eyebrows shoot up, “ Oh? And what might that interest be?”

He takes a moment to reply, and I’m partially expecting him to say he is also going into heat and wants to grace me with his horse cock, but the sane part is expecting a formal decree of death for running shifter wars. But what came out wasn’t either of those things, and color me shocked when the words fall from his sinfully shaped lips.

“Your bestfriend, Storm. She is my mate.”

My hand spasms on my wine, causing the ruby liquid to spill onto the white tablecloth.

Placing the cup down, I don’t attempt to hold back the growl that forces itself from my throat. “Excuse me? Have you lost your ever-loving sea-biscuit shifter mind? Storm ishuman;beyond that, she is like 5 feet, barely anything; you would split her in half with a horsedick. Councilman or no, I swear, if you so much as look at her the wrong way, I’ll kick your trotting ass up and down Cabria Fal—”

He holds his hands up to soothe me, and I realize that my hands are braced on the table, spilled wine forgotten, as I find myself seconds away from lunging at him.

“Calm down, Aneira,” he says lightly, though his tone is laced with power.

I narrow my eyes…you can throw your power around you, Galloping Powerhouse, but I’ll put your ass to pasture, I think to myself as he runs a hand through his hair and the sleeve of his suit jacket drops down to expose his diamond-encrusted watch. I correct my previous thought…Filthy Rich Galloping Powerhouse.

It takes a second for me to remember where I am and instead force my shoulders to drop to listen to everything Calian has to say. I give him a nod.

“I met her last night at my club, The Stallion. It was not my intention to walk in and claim a human as my mate, but Storm is not human; she can’t be,” he shakes his head. “My stallion immediately sensed her; something about her that drew me in, like she was the sun and I was in her orbit. Or rather, she was gravity, and I was a meteor crashing head-first into her furious tangent as she pretty much offered you up on a platter to Ralph.” I roll my eyes at that; it certainly sounds like Storm.

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