Cursed Mate (Feral Shifters 3)

It’s fucking heartbreaking.

In a way, I know what it’s like to feel what she felt. I too had a rift form between me and my mates.

Of course, we started off at war and slowly mended the bad blood between us until we were no longer enemies, but allies and lovers. Felicity’s rift has moved in the opposite direction, going from good to bad to worse. She loved Quinton once, and then gave up on him when it became clear what kind of person he is.

I can’t even imagine how lonely she must feel. They always say it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all, but anyone who says shit like that clearly never had to leave their fated mate.

“Our separation was ugly,” Felicity continues. “Particularly when I tried to steal his precious stone. The tensions between us have been high ever since. I feel an… obligation to stop him. He’s my mate, after all. Even now, after all these years apart. I’ve always felt like perhaps I’m the only one who could even try to stop him from achieving his goal. From hurting more people in his quest to gain power.” Felicity looks pointedly at Kian, Malix, and Frost. “I’ve always regretted that I couldn’t protect you from him.”

Kian speaks up, his voice subdued in a way I don’t think I’ve ever heard from him before. “We were not your responsibility, alpha.”

“No, but I cared for you in those early years, while your mothers…” She trails off and chews on her lower lip. “They were my friends. I failed them too.”

Quiet settles over the amphitheater. Felicity straightens her spine and rolls her neck, as if she’s shaking off the weight of her past to prepare for the future.

“I propose we join forces,” she says to Kian. “After leaving the four of you yesterday evening, I communed with the ancestors and meditated on the best path forward. I believe this is it.”

A ripple of low conversation starts up around us, but Felicity raises her voice and goes on. “Our best chance to end this is to destroy the stone. Without it, Quinton is nothing. Without it, he will lose his means of pursuing more power. Without it… we can deal with him once and for all.”

I lean forward a little, resting my elbows on my knees. “What do you propose?”

“My pack and I will stage an attack on Blood Moon lands. Not a full-scale battle, but a quick and dirty distraction. While we’re distracting Quinton and his followers, the four of you will sneak into the village and steal the stone.”

It sounds like a good plan on the surface, but there’s a glaring issue that I don’t think she’s considering. “Doesn’t he keep the stone with him? I would think if he’s so fucking attached to it, he’d have it with him at all times.”

She shakes her head. “No. When I was with him, he refused to sleep with the stone for fear that someone would attack in the night and kill him for it. He has a hiding place somewhere in the village—I just don’t know where it is. He never trusted me enough to tell me.”

Kian speaks then. “We know.”

I glance over at him where he sits on the other side of Malix, finding an almost savage smile on his face.

“We know where he hides the stone,” he repeats.

Felicity purses her lips, looking thoughtful. “Does he know you know?”

Kian’s smile widens, becoming even more vicious, if possible. “No. We came across the information accidentally.”

I snort. “Kinda like how he found the stone.”

“Good.” Felicity’s dark eyes blaze, and I can practically see the gears moving at top speed in her mind as she formulates a plan in her head. “That means we’ll have the element of surprise on our side, not just in our attack but in the true purpose of our mission. He doesn’t know you’re here or that we’ve joined forces. He’s likely arrogant enough that the thought hasn’t even occurred to him. So we attack, you get the stone, then we’ll rendezvous to discuss what happens next.”

It’s been only Felicity’s voice for so long, so when Cormac’s deep voice cuts into our conversation, it almost startles me.

“Alpha,” he rumbles. “May I speak to you privately?”

Felicity glances back at her right-hand man. “What is it? Anything you have to say can be said before the group.”

Cormac’s expression hardens, and he casts a glare in Kian’s direction. “Alpha, I’m concerned about sending the feral shifters after the stone. What if they’re only in this because they want to steal it for themselves?”

“Are you questioning my judgement?” Felicity asks, one eyebrow lifting slightly. She’s clearly confident enough in her position as alpha that she doesn’t even sound angry, just curious.

“No, alpha,” Cormac replies smoothly. He rubs a hand down his long red beard and nods in our direction. “I question their intentions.”

Another shifter somewhere behind us adds her voice to the dissent. “What if it’s a trick?”

“Quinton could have sent them to confuse you and infiltrate our pack,” another man suggests.

A bunch of voices rise at once as the pack airs their grievances against us. I only have to hear a few seconds of their aggressive disagreement to know that they still don’t trust us.

“Let them wage the battle,” a female suggests loudly. “While we locate the stone. That way, if they’re betrayers, they won’t have a chance to turn on us.”

I try to block out all the voices and let Felicity handle the situation. I’m not the alpha, and the muscled blonde woman is obviously well respected among her pack. But as her wolves start talking about my mates, making judgments about their characters based on where they come from and the shadows inside them, anger begins to build in my chest like steam in a pressure cooker.

Maybe it’s because I see their prejudices as a reflection of my own. I made a lot of assumptions about the feral shifters in the beginning too. I thought they were evil. I thought they were evil through and through, incapable of kindness or compassion or even humanity.

But I know better now. And hearing others make those same assumptions infuriates me.

Don’t fight with Felicity’s pack. Don’t fight with Felicity’s pack…

I grit my teeth, repeating the words over and over in my head like a mantra, hoping that will calm me down.

It doesn’t work.

Before I can wrestle my emotions back under control, they all spill over. I stand abruptly, whirling on the group behind us and snarling at the gathered crowd.

“Shut the fuck up!”