Page 24 of Curvy Alpha Bride
Taking a deep breath, I step out onto the porch and stride across the yard to the car. I can still feel the icky anticipation in the air, as if the sky is about to unleash horrors upon me, but I keep my back straight and my head high, not letting it stop me.
I’m the alpha of this town, motherfucker. Just try me.
As if the unseen thing can hear my thoughts, the chill breeze brings a trickle of unhinged laughter to my ear.
Mocking me, or challenging me? I must be imagining it. It’s just the wind.
I get Mabel’s bag out of the car, then go back to the house, forcing myself to walk casually. Whatever this thing is, I’m not going to let it spook me.
Let’s get real here. I have no evidence that there even is a thing. I had a bad dream, and I live in an isolated place with some kooky folks. There’s no proof we’re actually in danger.
As hard as I try to convince myself of this, my wolf isn’t buying it. Something is keeping our hackles raised, and the fact that we can’t see or smell anything makes the situation worse.
“Here it is,” I say, trying to banish the tension with a cheery voice as I come inside. “Anything else you need?”
“Where’s the food?” Mabel asks, standing in the kitchen with her arms folded. “All I can see is a couple of steaks and some mushrooms. Oh, and beer.”
“Sorry,” I reply, only just realizing how pitifully bare my pantry is. “There are no supermarkets here, so I couldn’t do any regular shopping. But honestly, I didn’t even think of it. I don’t need much to live on.”
She sighs. “So, what you’re telling me is you have absolutely nothing for breakfast. Not even toast.”
“Well, yeah. Unless you want steak and beer.”
“Not today, thanks. You don’t have any eggs?”
“No,” I answer, heading into the kitchen. “Sally was going to bring over a couple of chickens, but hasn’t gotten around to it yet.”
“Chickens?” Mabel echoes, her eyes wide.
“Yeah. If we’re going to live here, we have to sort out our own basic provisions. I can get Dad’s veggie garden back up, and we’ll have chickens, maybe even a cow—”
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Mabel exclaims. “Are you expecting me to live likeLittle House on the Prairie? This is ridiculous. Where did you even get the coffee?”
“There’s a grocer in town that started importing the second the town was opened up. He’s got some items, but not a lot. The residents are so used to doing everything themselves, they don’t really trust stuff from outside.”
“This is an outrage,” Mabel mutters, pulling out her phone. “I have to—”
Mabel’s face goes blank as she stares at the screen. She looks so shocked, I worry that something terrible has happened.
“Mabel, are you okay?”
“Xavier,” she says very slowly. “What the fuck?”
She raises the screen to me, and I see the little icon blink at the top.
SOS only.
“Oh, yeah,” I say. “I forgot. No service up here. I’ve gotten so used to it now, I don’t even notice.”
“No phone reception?” she asks softly. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m living in the goddamn dark ages!”
“Hey, calm down. There’s a reception in town.”
“As well as all the food, by the sound of it. We'd better get ready to go, then. You are sure I’ll be able to get a decent breakfast in town?”
“Guaranteed. The bakery will be open, and so will the grill. They’ll probably have something special made up for you, as a welcome.”
“I’ll get dressed,” she says gruffly, grabbing her bag and heading down the hall.
