Trapped With the Alpha (Balfour Shifters Book 1) (14 page)

Finally, he looks at me and asks, “Do you know what today is?”

“Should I?” I ask, not willing to play his guessing game.

“It’s June twenty-first,” Caleb answers, taking a drink of his scotch. “I don’t need a phone or an old ass book to tell me that.”

Ignoring him, Aiden keeps looking at me. “It’s the Summer Solstice.”

My body goes tight with the implication. “Wait, the celebration that night was in honor of the Summer Solstice. So, that means she disappeared and returned on the same day of the year. That has to means something. Doesn’t it?”

“You’ve forgotten the old ways, brother,” he says, pointing to the book. “Years ago, we celebrated the Summer and Winter Solstice. We honored the gods and our ancestors on both days. Our father taught us it was the day the veil between our world and theirs was the weakest.”

“That’s just a fairy tale. It’s just folklore and nothing more,” Caleb argues, sounding more like he was born in the twentieth century instead of the thirteenth. Actually, he sounds more like a human than a shifter, and it pisses me way the fuck off to even think he is beginning to forget his roots.

“I think Aiden is right. We’ve forgotten too many of the old ways,” I say, wanting to slap Caleb in his mouth.

“I for one am glad we put all of that shit behind us,” Caleb replies, not seeming to pick up on my mood. “We don’t need all that hocus pocus crap now.”

Finn slaps him on the back of his head, obviously thinking the same thing I am. “How dare you say everything your father taught you was a lie? You need to remember, you are a main character in half the fairy tales written, you big bad wolf.”

Izzy lets out a quiet laugh, drawing my attention. “What’s so funny, Pixie?”

A smile spreads across her face when she answers. “I just realized that I’m actually mated to the big bad wolf.”

I love seeing her like this, carefree and happy. I’m not idiot enough to think this will last, but I’ll take anything I can get from her. Leaning close, I whisper in her ear, “This big bad wolf is going to eat you up later,” causing her to squirm against me.

Aiden clears his throat, drawing my attention back to the conversation. “I know you’ve got more, so tell us. I don’t want to miss a single thing, either, so make sure to lay it all out there for us.”

“Father also said our wolves were stronger during the solstice. I have to wonder if the same thing applies to witchcraft,” he says, still digging through the book. “It says here that one of our ancestors was cursed by a witch. He had mated the witch’s daughter, even though she was promised to someone else. She punished him by placing him into a slumber that lasted one-hundred years.”

“I wasn’t asleep, though. I never slept the entire time I was imprisoned, never even felt the need for sleep,” Izzy explains as she cuddles in closer. 

Thinking of everything she lacked while she was locked away has me wanting to discover who did this to her even quicker. Looking back at Aiden, I ask, “When did that happen?”

“There isn’t an exact date listed, just a name.” He looks at me with a look of astonishment on his face. “It was Blain Balfour.”

Everyone but Izzy turns to look at him with shock. Caleb is the first to speak up. “That’s our great-grandfather. One of our ancestors is a witch?”

“No, our great-grandmother was human,” Finn says, drawing a gasp from Izzy.

Giving her a squeeze, I ask, “What’s wrong?”

“I thought you could only have children with your mate.” Her voice trembles as she asks, “How did he mate a witch but have children with a human?”

I stare at her for a moment before a thought pops into my head. “I have no children and never will unless you are their mother. You are my mate, the only person who could ever carry my seed.”

“But...” she starts, but Aiden cuts her off, eager to get back to the story. 

“When the witch cursed our great-grandfather, she also cursed her daughter, even though she didn’t know it at the time. Her father was human. For some reason, she didn’t receive her mother’s immortality. Without him by her side, his mate continued to age as if she had never been mated by a shifter. She died before Blain woke up from his enchanted sleep.” Pointing to a page in the book, he continues. “According to this, the gods gifted him with a second mate due to the witch’s interference.”

Izzy’s eyes move to mine, a look of utter devastation covering her face. “You didn’t have to be alone. You could have found someone else. Why would you wait and put yourself through all that suffering, Brody?”

The thought of having someone else as the mother of my children, another woman as my wife, causes the animal within me to howl out in pain. I’m in complete agreement with him. Even death would be better than such a terrible fate.

“No,” I reply, brushing my lips over hers. “I could never have anyone but you by my side. I may not have known consciously that you existed, but deep down inside, I knew you were out there somewhere. Even my wolf knew. He was always pushing me away from everyone else, as if he was waiting for you to return.”

“So, we think this was witchcraft?” Knox asks, getting back to the meat of the conversation. 

Aiden studies a bit more before answering. “I’m not sure, but it would be my guess. No one I know would be able to do something like this, other than a witch. It’s just not possible without one.”

He flips the pages a few more times before looking up. “There’s nothing here about what happened to the witch who cursed Blain. For all we know, she may still hold a grudge against the Balfours. Better yet, perhaps it’s a curse that each one of us carries. Hell, for all we know, it could keep reinventing itself each time we find a mate.”

“Makes you wonder about Mother and Grandmother,” Caleb muses, finally understanding that this is more than just made-up bullshit. “Isn’t it strange that a shifter’s mate would die so young, especially two shifters’ mates?”

Mother died while giving birth to Aiden. At the time, it was a normal occurrence for a woman to die in childbirth, but for a shifter’s mate, it was unheard of. Grandmother died of a lung infection before my father was grown, again something that had never happened to a shifter’s mate. Even as the years have passed, I’ve never seen either happen again. A shifter’s mate ages as he does. She doesn’t become ill, never even has a cold. If the shifter dies, his mate will start to age normally again. Other than the rare accident, this fact never changes. 

“What about Blain’s human mate?” Izzy asks, absorbing everything being said.

Aiden flips back a page and reads over it once more. “Her death was not recorded, only Blain’s. He was thrown from his horse and died. Grandfather had just come of age when it happened.”

“The fact that he died that way in itself is odd,” I say, wondering how it could have happened.

As shifters, we have a connection to most animals. Never have I heard of a shifter being tossed from a horse, not even one who is just learning to ride. In fact, most of us are on the back of a horse as soon as we can walk. It’s something that comes naturally to us, just like breathing.

“Yes, it is,” Knox adds, looking to Izzy. “Do you know anything about this witch?”

“What?” she asks, her body going rigid in my lap. ”How would I know anything about a witch who was around hundreds of years before I was even born?”

“Are you sure? Think back. Did anyone approach you who seemed odd,” he asks, pressing the issue.

“That’s enough, Knox,” I growl, getting angrier with each word he says.

“No,” she says, ignoring my words. “I want to help you, but what exactly are you accusing me of?”

He looks at her before shaking his head. “It was just a question, not an accusation. Every single detail we discover may lead us to who did this to you and Brody.”

She starts to respond, but Aiden cuts her off. “I’m gonna call Elise.”

Izzy looks at me with a question in her gaze, and I explain, “She’s a witch who has worked with our pack from time to time.”

“Oh, I remember her coming around,” she says before looking at Aiden. “Do you think she can help us figure out what happened to me?”

“How do you know her? We didn’t meet Elise until we moved to America,” Knox asks, looking at Izzy suspiciously again. 

She tilts her head and lets out a frustrated breath. “I told you, I was always by Brody’s side. I was with him when he met her.”

I look over to him, letting him see my canines. “Are you done questioning my mate now?”

He laughs, leaning back in his seat. “Seeing the two of you together, there’s no doubt she’s your mate. Plus, how could I forget the first girl I ever tried to steal a kiss from?”

With that, my wolf finally pushes through, sending Izzy to the floor. Leaping across the table, I go for Knox’s throat, but before my teeth can sink in, Izzy grabs my scruff. As always, she gains complete control of me with a touch of her hand. 

“Enough,” she shouts, pulling me back. “Meeting is over. 

I let go of Knox, quickly shifting back. “He tried to kiss you?”

She doesn’t answer my question, and instead, smiles and says, “I can think of a much better way for you to blow off some steam, if that’s what you need.” 

Hearing her put it that way, I no longer give a damn about what Knox has to say. Grabbing her by the hand, I start dragging her toward the stairs as the guys burst into laughter behind us.

Never have I been so eager to blow off some steam.

Izzy

AS BRODY
ordered, I’ve spent the day remodeling his room. He’s been pestering me for the two weeks I’ve been back to make his room officially ours. We went from store to store, buying anything that caught my fancy: new curtains, new sheets, and a new throw rug among our new items. While we were gone, a few of the pack came over and painted the room an earthy brown that matches the clan’s tartan perfectly. It all came together perfectly, but my eyes keep going over to the one thing I cannot change. 

In the center of the room sits the Balfour Alpha’s bed. It’s been in the family for way over a thousand years. Not only have Lairds of the clan slept in this bed, both Brody and his father were born in it. The large bed is made from a deep mahogany wood, and the Balfour crest is carved into the headboard. It’s believed to have been built by a Norseman before the first Balfour relocated to Scotland. How it survived this long, no one knows. It’s one of the few original pieces left after the castle was burnt in the 1800’s.

As beautiful as it is, I can’t look at it without a rush of anger flowing through me. Brody didn’t normally bring his women back here, but more than a few have been in this bed. Knowing that, I just can’t seem to force myself to be comfortable in it. How can I, when visions of him with those women fill my head every time I lay on it?

“Whatcha’ thinking about?” Brody asks, walking up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. 

I shake off my thoughts and paste on a fake smile. There’s no way I’m telling him my thoughts right now. “Nothing really, just taking a moment to enjoy the fruits of our labor.”

He searches my face then looks toward the bed. As always, he seems to know what I’m feeling without me having to say a word. “We can get a new bed. I’ll have the boys go out and pick one up today.”

“No,” I shout, pulling out of his arms so I can turn to look at him. “This was your father’s bed, your grandfather’s. We can’t just toss it out.”

Just the thought has my heart rate speeding up. My father taught me to be proud of my clan, proud of my heritage, and proud of the Balfour name. Even when I was imprisoned, I always cherished my memories of my time with the clan. I will not be responsible for destroying one of the remaining pieces of Balfour history. 

“I’m not going to throw it out,” he says with a shake of his head. “It’s too important to the clan, but that doesn’t mean we can’t move it to another room. Hell, I may even send it back to Scotland. It always seemed wrong, anyway, taking it out of the castle.”

I walk over to the bed and place my hand on the new dark blue down comforter. Thoughts of the proud men who slept on this bed, with their ladies by their side, flit through my mind, and I know this is more than a simple piece of furniture. As much as I want to get rid of it, I just can’t let it happen. “This is the Laird’s bed, part of your history. It’s meant to be with you, no matter where you go.”

He walks over to me and pulls me into his arms again. “It’s just a bed. It’s not important. You are.”

“It’s important to you, important to the clan,” I reply, as thoughts of the women who have lain with him in the bed fill my head. 

He goes silent for a second before looking over my shoulder. “I don’t want you thinking about anything but me when we’re together. None of those women meant anything to me. I regret being with them. Hell, I regret damn near everything I’ve done since the day you disappeared. Regardless, when we are in that bed, nothing in the world crosses my mind but you.”

I release a sigh, wishing the past wouldn’t keep coming between us. “I know, and it doesn’t matter. This bed will be ours. We will make our own memories in it, memories that will wipe away the others.”