Page 12 of Curvy Alpha Bride
Being back in Cyan Lock gives me the uncomfortable feeling that maybe I will know the girl Iris has matched me with. It doesn’t change the fact that I really don’t have a choice here, though.
I need to bring my mate back by tonight. The whole town is counting on it.
The desperation of the townsfolk and the urging from the elders leaves an echo of doubt ringing through me. No matter how hard I try to brush off their strange behavior, I can’t escape the idea that something is seriously wrong with them.
“Xavier!” a bright voice calls.
I look up and see a tall, slender woman waving at me. I assume it must be Iris, so I hurry over to the picnic table, so nervous that I almost trip over in the thick grass.
“Lovely to meet you,” she says, shaking my hand firmly.
“And you,” I answer a bit awkwardly. Iris is perfectly put together, from her upswept blond hair all the way down to her polished lavender pumps. Her fitted, dark purple suit hugs her curves enough to enhance her shape, but not enough to be suggestive.
She’s the picture of class. A screaming tornado wouldn’t pull a single hair out of place on her.
“Sit down, Xavier,” she says, sitting and gesturing to the other bench. “How does it feel to be back in Cyan Lock?”
“Weird,” I admit, looking around furtively. “I guess I’ve moved on from here. It doesn’t feel like home anymore.”
“Does that mean you’re settled in over at Valentine Creek?”
“Not really. I mean—yeah, I guess. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Iris smiles, her perfect pink lips curving upwards as warmth lights up her blue eyes. “I know it’s been a struggle,” she says gently. “But that’s all going to change, I promise you. There are some tough times ahead for your little town, but if you and your new mate depend upon each other, you’ll come through it even stronger!”
I stare at her for a moment, feeling the weight of her words. They could be the same kind of mindless platitudes people say to make small talk in a conversation, but they also have the ring of prophecy.
“Are you alright, Xavier?”
“Yes. Sorry.”
“No problem. Are you ready to sign?”
“Sure.”
Iris hands me the contract and a pen, and I sign the last page without looking through it.
“Wonderful!” Iris says. “I believe your match has arrived. She’s waiting for you over in the rose garden.”
“Doesn’t she have to sign as well?”
“She signed digitally last night, dear. She’s very keen to make this work!”
“Oh,” I say, surprised. “Okay, then. I guess I’ll head over.”
“I’ll be right here!” she chirps brightly.
Why does that sound like a lie?
I hurry through the park towards the rose garden, wiping my hands on my pants as my palms begin to sweat. My mouth is dry, and my throat burns. Every moment I’m forced to stay here, my panic at the idea of seeing Mabel increases.
How can I face her ever again? I waited so long for my chance with her, and when I finally got it, I had to give her up.
A groan of dismay escapes my lips as I think of the things I said to her. I know I could have handled it better, but I was feeling pretty shattered myself. I couldn’t even begin to start explaining all of that to Mabel—especially not on top of knowing I was leaving town and never coming back.
Approaching the last corner of the hedge, I take a deep breath and hold it for a second. Once I turn the corner, I’ll be face-to-face with my new bride, and then we can go and start our new life together. Or our first few weeks, depending on how it goes.
The townsfolk act like the arrival of a luna is the same as the second coming. If I bring a new woman to town and they all love her, will she ever be able to leave?
