Page 16 of The Alphas' Christmas Mate (Triple L Ranch Shifters 2)

Chapter Thirteen

Cerine

I had no business crawling into bed with these two.

But looking down at Trace lying against the white pillowcases, still not 100 percent but fighting so hard to get his health back, I just wanted to offer all the comfort I could. I believed the toxin was a heavy metal or perhaps chemicals from mine tailings. It would take some onsite checking to be sure, something we couldn’t do while still locked down by this storm. But Finton was nearly healed, and Trace was getting better by the hour.

The tea my grandmother taught me to make was doing its job. For which I was very grateful. But what would she tell me to do in this situation?Listen to your wolf, child. She’s a gift to you, one few in this world has to rely on.But what about when it meant going from living completely alone and being the master of my own destiny to becoming part of a relationship already so complete and beautiful it made me want to weep? So when I replied to Trace’s request that I join them in my huge bed with, “All right, but just until you’re asleep,” my heart was hammering so hard, I was afraid it might burst.

And the comical expressions on the two men’s faces told me that my reply was completely unexpected. They hadn’t thought I’d do it, and that made me feel like I had something to prove. This bed was so old, I had no idea how old it was. Had it ever held three adults? I didn’t know that, either, but it was completely innocent to rest with someone while they fell asleep. And if it gave Trace comfort, it was little enough to do. Nobody was naked, nobody was going to be naked—an entirely innocent evening in bed with two men.

I was starting to recognize the foolishness of my fighting this, but I’d done it so far, how could I stop? I crawled up to lie on one side of Trace, and Finton took a place on the other side of him then pulled the covers over all of us. Trace linked one hand with mine and one with his husband’s, and his smile was so broad and so bright, I couldn’t regret being here.

“See?” he asked. “Isn’t this exactly how things should be?”

“You’re probably learning that my husband doesn’t take no for an answer when something is important to him,” Finton told me, resting his cheek on Trace’s shoulder.

“You’re pretty determined yourself,” I replied, hyperaware of the hand holding mine. “But this is nice. It’s going to be very hard when you leave.”

“You’re throwing us out into the storm?” Trace’s voice broke. “You just said this was nice.”

Oh no, I was hurting his feelings. “It is. Especially because I can tell that you’re doing better.” He hadn’t vomited in nearly twenty-four hours, and he’d gobbled two bowls of soup and a whole sleeve of crackers. “It makes me feel good to know you aren’t so ill.” And terrified to think what might have happened if I hadn’t been guided to find them.

“I do feel better. Tired, but less pain my arms and legs and all my bones, you know?”

I squeezed his hand. “Tomorrow you’ll be even more your old self and the day after that. But you’ll still need to drink tea for at least a couple of weeks. If you leave”—I was saying if now and not when—“I’ll send some with you.”

“Do you really want us to go?” He sounded so sad. “Without you?” We weren’t holding hands anymore, and I wasn’t sure when we’d let go.

I rested my head on his chest, our three faces very close together, creating a level of intimacy between us I didn’t know what do with. But one I didn’t want to break. If wolves could purr, mine would be doing it now, and I’d be right there with her. “I didn’t say that I wanted you to go. Just that you probably would.” And take my heart with them. I’d have this time to remember though. They didn’t need a loner in their life, and I had responsibilities here.

“We won’t leave because this is your home and your life. Even if we wanted to take you back with us, our house is the sole standing building in the middle of a village we burned to the ground. We have nothing to give you but ourselves.” Trace brushed his lips over my forehead. “And I know it’s not enough.”

Not enough? Lying there with his heart thrumming under my cheek, and their combined scents, no longer metallic but clean and holding all the elements of the forest, I was enveloped by a sense of peace I’d never approached since my grandmother died. And even then, it wasn’t this.

Mates. That’s what mates feel like all the time. Peace and pleasure and safety and everything we’ve ever wanted.Of course my wolf took the opportunity to add her opinion, or rather bolster it, since she’d given it before many times.

But I’m a loner for the most part. And they have their own path.

We’re not loners. We’ve been lonely.

Loneliness. I’d considered the ache that I carried with me everywhere to be grief for my grandmother, but she’d lived a long life and gone peacefully at her time. And she’d told me her only regret was leaving me…alone. And that she blamed herself for that, said she should have made sure I had more contact with the other young people. Worried I wouldn’t find a mate. Worried our line would end with me, the granddaughter nobody came calling for.

We’d lived our own life here, getting together for special occasions with the others in the pack and seeing them when they needed healing, so it wasn’t as if I didn’t know everyone in the pack or even those who came to visit because guests were always a reason for a run and a party.

But my grandmother loved me and didn’t want me to be lonely. My eyes welled up, the ache easing just a little.

“Cerine?” The light from the lamps in the next room filtered in just enough for me to see Finton’s face, shadows highlighting the planes and valleys of his features. “Even mates have free will. And we are coming from a place of destruction. When you asked if there are any members of our pack still alive, it gave a little hope. Maybe some were traveling like us or left before they got too sick. But we really have, at this point, no way of knowing. We may be all that’s left, and maybe our pack should end here. Maybe it’s the will of one of the gods or something.”

Trace’s voice was so low, even this close it was nearly inaudible. “Maybe we offended them in some way.”

“So please be honest with yourself and us and our collective wolves and acknowledge the fact that we are your mates. Then, if you choose not to act on it, we will step back. Maybe we’re just bad luck.”

“Don’t you dare say that about yourselves. I refuse to believe things work that way.”

“Maybe you don’t find us physically appealing,” Finton suggested next.

Was he kidding? These were two of the most beautiful men I’d ever seen.

Finton with his brown hair that flopped over his forehead, beautiful ocean-blue eyes, and a straight and noble nose, he stood tall and broad-shouldered when he helped his mate even though he had been sick himself.

And Trace, a bit shorter but sturdily built. He had coal-black hair and eyes nearly as dark that held all the pain of the past days? Weeks? I didn’t know exactly the timeline.

“Lack of attraction is not why I’m keeping my distance.” About three inches of distance nose to nose with either of them at the moment, hypocritical girl. “I’m not terribly experienced”—or experienced at all—“but I think you could be America’s hottest wolves.”

They both flushed a little at the praise, and Finton reached out a hand but I shook my head.

“I look at you and see perfection. And that is the problem. You’re a married pair who obviously adore one another and are fully complete together. I don’t see how I fit in. Or why you’d want me to.”

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