The Lion's Arranged Mate: A Paranormal Lion Shifter Romance (3 page)

“Tell me,” he continued again, “what… well, I mean, in the noble houses, how do you approach marriage? I mean, what do you do?”

Anastasia wrinkled her lips as she tried to recollect. “I suppose it’s not so unlike what you do, although perhaps it’s a bit more formal,” she remarked. Her lips tightened again, as if she were on the verge of telling him something, and then decided against it. “You wouldn’t understand.”

She’s hiding something
, he thought. The mention of the noble houses and marriage in the same house had seemed to startle her, and he now saw a fidgety panic in her eyes.

“Hm,” he scratched his head, “why don’t you try me?”

Her eyes darkened.
The family name Stormfang is apt
, he mused. “There are things, even about my pack, that I can’t divulge to an outsider. Let’s… let’s just drop it okay?” she asked.

He weakened for a moment and shrugged. Another silence fell between them, and he tried to keep from looking at the small dark space where her knees parted slightly. When she noticed his efforts, she blushed a little and turned away from him. “Where… where’s my bedroom?” she asked hurriedly.

Thankful for the diversion, he showed her to the main bedroom, and quickly pointed out that he would sleep on the couch. At least, in her own words, until the ceremony was finalized.
Besides, I think we’ve both suffered enough drastic changes in our habits to throw sleeping together in the same bed into the mix
, he thought – when he looked across at Anastasia he saw she felt the same way.

“Well!” he exclaimed, “I know you probably want to change and what-not. So I’ll let you be. It’s probably about that time, so I’ll start making dinner. Do you have any preference? All I’ve really got on hand is some frozen salmon… vegetables?”

She stopped at the doorway, one strap of her dress already lilting off her shoulder blade. Her eyes were flaring again, half with wonder and half with admonishment. “Wait,” she asked, “you mean it’s just the two of us? There’s no maids… no servants?”

Oy
, Alan thought.

“Nope! Just us…”

“And you… you actually make food? With your own hands?”

Again, he couldn’t tell if she was putting him on or not, but the earnest look on her face was evidence enough. “Naturally. Unlike you nobles in your mansions of fancy, we lower folk and peasants have to make do on our own. As you might have noticed from looking around, it’s not like I’ve ever had a girlfriend or wife before. So I’ve had to learn how to survive on my own.”

“But… but,” she seemed unable to reconcile the fact that anyone could
survive
without maids and butlers to do the dirty work.

He shook his head and let out a long sigh.
This is going to be a very long marriage
, he reflected.

CHAPTER TWO

Alan hated to admit it, but since the two of them had agreed to keep things ‘official’ according to Anastasia, things had been easier around the cabin. It was still very difficult for her to get used to the fact she didn’t have any servants – the other domestic chores of the house were also a problem, and he had to take special care to teach her about some of the more basic things like doing laundry or preparing meals.

He had to hand it to her – rather than feeling ashamed of her ignorance, she took it as a challenge, meeting every new obstacle with a fervor that bordered on obsessive-compulsive. She wasn’t happy until she had excelled and mastered every task, and it gave him a sort of pride to see her dedicating herself.

He had worried that she would remain stubborn – but he saw now that her stubbornness wasn’t so much an inflexibility, but rather a sheer determination, and his opinion of her seemed to grow with each passing day. At the end of the week, he decided it was time they reward themselves. It was unlikely, he figured, that she’d ever gone camping, so he surreptitiously began to pack all the ingredients: clothes, food, water, all the things they would need.

“I have a surprise for you,” he said, when he came back late on Friday from his job at the local bar. It had been a slow night, as it usually was – his job as a bouncer was usually compounded with calling taxis for the overly inebriated, or bullshitting with the proprietor and guests. Anastasia was in a nightgown reading by the window – she always waited for him until he returned home, and more often than not, they would nestle into each other, learning the other by touch, though they hadn't made love yet.
Irrepressible
, he had called her one night, and she had punched him playfully in the arm, but not denied it.

“Is everything okay?” she asked, thinking it was about the bar.

“Oh yes, no I was thinking… this weekend we should go camping. The actual marriage ceremony isn’t until next week, so… we have two days to ourselves. What do you think?”

Her eyes widened in thought. “I… I don’t know. I’ve never camped before,” she admitted. “Is it hard?”

He wanted to kiss her, she was so cute. “No harder than doing laundry,” he winked.

The next morning they woke early and he packed up the Triumph’s side-bags with everything they’d needed. Anastasia still wasn’t used to the bike, but she grit her teeth and put the helmet over her coiffed hair. The Triumph was just another challenge to her, and if he knew her as he thought he did, she wanted nothing more than to overcome it as well.

Luckily, she had worn something a little more casual, and the cut-off shorts seemed like a more appropriate choice of attire. She saw Alan looking at her ponderously as she got onto the back seat and put her hands on his shoulders.

Alan had deliberately kept the location a secret, even after she had pestered him, but as they took to the open road and the wind howled past, she seemed to find a new sort of thrill in the scenery that flashed by. Both of them, a Wolf and a Lion, were at heart predators, inclined to the power of their own long strides as they hunted through the wilderness, and this act of sailing over the earth on two wheels seemed to beckon and call to an inner power in them.

She’ll love it
, he thought. The place he’d selected was a lake that was up one of the logging roads that Cameron used to access his woodlot. A similarly small cabin had been constructed on one shore of the alpine body of water, and though it was modest, it was cozy enough for two people.

He could picture it in his mind even now – the tall ridge of granite mountain cliffs to the northeast, hedged by ice and dwindling glaciers, and the long white streaked tendrils of clear water that branched downward like liquid lightning to the glacial blue perimeter of the lake.

It took them longer than he anticipated to get to the cabin as they left the main road and went up a forked branch. She held on tightly, and if she was alarmed by how far he was taking her into the wilderness, she made no indication – but her embrace tightened on him the further they went.

At last, the road gave way to a clearing where the trees were shrunken and wide swaths of yellowing tundra grass expanded toward the lake. He didn’t have to see her face to know she was gaping at it. He pulled the bike up beside the cabin and they both hopped off – a chilly wind bit down at them and she held her bare arms and shivered, goosebumps rising on her naked thighs.

“It’s a bit colder up here,” he said, “but don’t worry, I brought extra clothes.”

“It’s beautiful… what do you call this place?”

“It’s an unmarked lake, actually, no name. But Cam calls it Loggerhead Pond – go figure.”

“I’m surprised at how blue it is… I don’t think I’ve ever seen water that color.”

Alan smiled. “That’s because it’s super clean. Glacial water, freshly melted. Wanders down through the shale and the earth, and seeps out here. Probably the purest water you’ve ever tasted… the color is from the silt. Looks inviting though, right?”

She nodded. “I don’t suppose it’s good for swimming?”
Only if you’re a polar bear shifter,
he was inclined to say. “Well, not really. In a human shape, you’d probably catch hypothermia if you tried.”

“I wasn’t quite sure what to expect when you said we were going camping. Are you sure we’re safe up here? I mean… what with wild animals and all. I don’t know, I just feel like we’re suddenly too close to the sky. That probably sounds funny.”

“Not at all,” he said. “If you keep it to yourself, I have terrible vertigo. That doesn’t mean it’s not a thrilling experience. Maybe tomorrow we can go up that cliff there. The view is amazing, you can almost see Cedarhaven on a clear day.”

“Really?” her eyes flashed with excitement. “I guess we don’t have enough time today?”

He looked up at the sky. There were clouds assembling like dark grey phalanxes over the mountains, and the wind was definitely getting stronger, sprouting whitecaps in the middle of the aquamarine lake.
Should have checked the weather
, he reminded himself, and felt foolish for not considering something so basic.

“Best not,” he said. “We could go in
true
form, but even then, I wouldn’t want to risk it. But don’t worry, I brought two bottles of wine and all the trimmings, and once I get a fire started in the cabin, you won’t want to leave, I guarantee.”

She smiled in spite of herself. As a noble, it was said the world was her oyster. She wanted for nothing – but she was beginning to see that life in the cloistered settlement of the estates was like a cage, albeit a gilded one.
I wanted for nothing only because I didn’t know what existed outside my scope of being
, she lamented. If she had known, would she have wanted this?

It didn’t matter. As she followed the tall handsome man, who would become her husband, into the quaint rickety cabin, she only knew that intrinsically she wanted it
now.
It wasn’t the easy life of a noble – it was uncomfortable, in some ways. One look at the small bed and the musty fireplace convinced her of that. But at the same time, Alan had shown her new things she had never even considered, taught her things she had always taken for granted.

He indicated the couch, and she curled up on it as he lit the oil lamps around the cabin, causing an orange glow to infuse the small single room that was both living room, kitchen, and bedroom. It did feel cozy, almost like a den, and she wondered if that was the Wolf in her waking up.

Alan went to work, collecting kindling from a moldy cardboard box and constructing a small teepee in the old stove. In seconds, it caught fire and started to roar, and he stepped back, warming his hands. They could look out the window at the lake as evening fell and the first stars began to flicker, forming constellations.

He pulled a chilled bottle of wine out of the Triumph’s side-bag and sat down with a huff beside her. “Whew,” he said, “that’s better, isn’t it?”

“It really is, I don’t know… I don’t have a word for this, Alan. I feel like I did when I stepped off that plane – confused, excited, and nervous. I feel all of them without knowing which is correct.”

He handed her a wine glass and she sipped at the sweet Amarone. “Maybe you’re not supposed to feel anything in particular,” he suggested, putting an arm around her until she leaned her head against his shoulder. Both of them watched the fire crackle and pop in the stove, transfixed by its sorcery.

“If I’ve learned anything, moving between my world and your world, it’s that there isn’t a whole lot of guarantees in any direction… all you can do is hold on and hope you end up where you’re supposed to be. If it helps, I think it’s important to live in the present. So… right now, we’re safe, we’re warm, we’re in a beautiful place with beautiful wine, and the stars are out. For me, that’s enough.”

She smiled and clinked her glass against his. “You have a very simple-minded way of putting things,” she said, and saw him wince.  “Don’t … I didn’t mean that offensively. Sorry, it’s just… ugh, habit. What I mean is, I think your way of seeing this is simple, but I think it’s better. It’s more… clear? I’m still not used to it. In the estate no one says what they mean, it’s always subterfuge, masks, word-games, and you’re constantly trying to figure out what it is that the other person
isn’t
saying.”

“It must be a hard change to come to a place where everyone pretty much says exactly what’s on their mind?” he said, rubbing her shoulder.

“But… I like it. Because, I’m also like that. You’ve noticed, of course,” she said, “but, thank you for being patient with me. I know it’s… not easy to be around me sometimes. There’s… there’s something-… no, I suppose it’s not worth mentioning.”

“You can tell me anything,” he said. He’d seen the same stern expression on her face only one other time, when he’d asked how marriage ceremonies were conducted in the noble houses. He craned his head, trying to convince her he was trustworthy to whatever she had to say.

“No, it’s… it’d just make things more complicated. Forget I said anything.” She brushed aside a lock of red hair.

Alan bit his lip. “Well, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have my own reservations about the Council’s edict,” he replied carefully, “but I’d also be lying if I said I wasn’t glad I met you. I’m not good with words, Anastasia… not like Cameron, or Kyle.”

“What are you trying to say?”

He shook his head and downed the glass of wine in a single gulp. A log popped in the stove, causing a small ember to ricochet onto the tile floor where it died. “I wish I knew,” he said, and stroked her arm again. That was the problem with language, it didn’t ever live up to what it was trying to describe. He envied all those writers of a bygone era, those who could express themselves without being misunderstood.

Suddenly, a crack of thunder sounded off in the distance and Anastasia reflexively reached out and gripped his arm. A slow shush emanated from out across the lake and curtained towards them, and suddenly a heavy rain pelted against the metal roof.

“Looks like we just made it,” Alan remarked, but his thoughts were still on Anastasia. She kept her grip on his arm, and he realized she was gazing at him. “What is it?”

“Nothing, just,” she blushed, “just, thank you. For being a gentleman, all this time. I know that we’re supposed to be married, but… I keep making you sleep on the couch.”

“It’s alright, I’m rather used to it,” he said.

“No, no it’s not… and we are soon to be wedded. I’ve been unfair to you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Hardly, Anastasia. I’m not a cad. I know how hard this has been, and I’ll give you as much space as you need.”

Another flash of lightning ignited above the mountains, followed by a crashing boom right overhead that caused the wine glasses to shake on the table, and she pulled herself closer to him, her breasts pushing against his shoulder. Her eyes were downcast, as if she were trying to make up her mind about something.

“I… I don’t know if I want space right now,” she said softly.

He leaned in and kissed her, not sure if it was the right thing to do. If she pulled away, he knew he’d have ruined the one chance he had to put her mind at ease. But she didn’t pull away. In the lamplight, their mouths met and she exhaled, her tongue lurching in against his cheeks even as he moved his own against her lips.

Slowly, they pulled away again, and she stood up.
I blew it
, Alan was thinking. There was no timidity in her face, nor fear, nor anger. Only a sensuous softness. She pulled at her shirt until it came up over her head and her breasts swayed out. She flinched, only for a moment, as the shadows caught the corners of her bosom.

“You don’t need to be shy around me,” he said, matching the timbre of her own voice, and she inclined her head and let her arms drop again. A flowing carpet of red dangled over her shoulders, and for a moment he was certain he was looking at flame incarnate.