he studied the tableau before him.
True Mates: Carol’s Mate
75
Christmas carols played softly in the background. A fire burned merrily in the hearth, its soft, flickering light lending a mellow glow. In one corner of the room, the seven-feet Douglas fir added additional light and color, its multicolored twinkling lights reflecting off a multitude of Christmas ornaments of all shapes and sizes.
Only two lone presents resided under its branches, the rest having been distributed earlier.
Mark crossed his arms over his chest, leaned against the archway, and smiled.
Carol and Alex wrestled on the floor like kids, laughing and playing and simply goofing off. It was good to see them being so lighthearted and relaxed, for once free of the cares and responsibilities of being leaders of a large pack. Their parents, Mona and Tom, sitting together on the couch like honeymooners, gazed at them indulgently. Of the pack, only two remained, Ms. Lulu and Hiram, elders both of them. They sat on a nearby love seat and spoke with the former alphas in quiet tones.
Mark watched Tom Wolfe as he interacted with the elders, his children, and most importantly, his mate. He owed this man a debt of gratitude he doubted he‟d ever be able to repay. Left to his own devices, he would have allowed fear and pride to keep him from the best thing that had ever happened in his life: Carol. Thank God Tom had come and talked sense into him. More importantly, he‟d taught Mark everything he needed to know about being a male shifter, including how to care for his mate.
In his position, Mark sincerely doubted he‟d have done the same if it had been his daughter. His attitude would have been more like Alex‟s: hostile, protective, and completely unforgiving. He thought back to those dark days…
* * *
He was a miserable wreck. He couldn‟t eat. He couldn‟t sleep. He was so irritable and short-tempered even his friends avoided him. He wanted his woman, but there was no way she‟d forgive him, not after the ass he‟d made of himself.
76
Zena Wynn
Mark had known when he met Carol that she was sheltered. There was something innocent and a bit naive about her. After spending time with her and hearing about her dad and brother, he had realized his first impression was correct.
Not only was she sheltered but pampered as well. She was by no means spoiled. He could tell she‟d come from a good home and that her family was well-off. Nothing like the hood he‟d grown up in. She lacked street smarts and that hard, wary edge that people who grew up in dangerous neighborhoods learned early in life.
The first time they‟d made love, though she‟d met him passion for passion, her inexperience showed. She was the closest thing to a virgin that he‟d ever been with, and while he was all for women‟s rights and women going after what and who they wanted, he was glad he didn‟t have to wonder how many men his woman had been with, and how he compared to her former lovers.
Carol was a lady, and he‟d cursed her out like a common street whore.
In his mind he could still picture the way she‟d slowly folded into herself. The flinches she‟d made as each word hit its target. Another woman would have cursed him back, the black in her rising to the forefront as her neck rolled, finger pointed, and she “handled business.” Not Carol; she‟d sat there and taken it. Once his initial fury had cooled and he could clearly think again, guilt hit him hard.
Along with the sure knowledge that he‟d screwed up—royally.
Even knowing that he was wrong and owed her an apology, he couldn‟t force himself to go to her. He was still upset. She‟d lied to him. Used him. She claimed to love him, but if she really did, wouldn‟t she have told him what was happening as soon as she discovered the truth? It was his life, his humanity she was fucking with.
And for that reason, his anger still burned.
It didn‟t help that now that she‟d brought it to his
True Mates: Carol’s Mate
75
Christmas carols played softly in the background. A fire burned merrily in the hearth, its soft, flickering light lending a mellow glow. In one corner of the room, the seven-feet Douglas fir added additional light and color, its multicolored twinkling lights reflecting off a multitude of Christmas ornaments of all shapes and sizes.
Only two lone presents resided under its branches, the rest having been distributed earlier.
Mark crossed his arms over his chest, leaned against the archway, and smiled.
Carol and Alex wrestled on the floor like kids, laughing and playing and simply goofing off. It was good to see them being so lighthearted and relaxed, for once free of the cares and responsibilities of being leaders of a large pack. Their parents, Mona and Tom, sitting together on the couch like honeymooners, gazed at them indulgently. Of the pack, only two remained, Ms. Lulu and Hiram, elders both of them. They sat on a nearby love seat and spoke with the former alphas in quiet tones.
Mark watched Tom Wolfe as he interacted with the elders, his children, and most importantly, his mate. He owed this man a debt of gratitude he doubted he‟d ever be able to repay. Left to his own devices, he would have allowed fear and pride to keep him from the best thing that had ever happened in his life: Carol. Thank God Tom had come and talked sense into him. More importantly, he‟d taught Mark everything he needed to know about being a male shifter, including how to care for his mate.
In his position, Mark sincerely doubted he‟d have done the same if it had been his daughter. His attitude would have been more like Alex‟s: hostile, protective, and completely unforgiving. He thought back to those dark days…
* * *
He was a miserable wreck. He couldn‟t eat. He couldn‟t sleep. He was so irritable and short-tempered even his friends avoided him. He wanted his woman, but there was no way she‟d forgive him, not after the ass he‟d made of himself.
76
Zena Wynn
Mark had known when he met Carol that she was sheltered. There was something innocent and a bit naive about her. After spending time with her and hearing about her dad and brother, he had realized his first impression was correct.
Not only was she sheltered but pampered as well. She was by no means spoiled. He could tell she‟d come from a good home and that her family was well-off. Nothing like the hood he‟d grown up in. She lacked street smarts and that hard, wary edge that people who grew up in dangerous neighborhoods learned early in life.
The first time they‟d made love, though she‟d met him passion for passion, her inexperience showed. She was the closest thing to a virgin that he‟d ever been with, and while he was all for women‟s rights and women going after what and who they wanted, he was glad he didn‟t have to wonder how many men his woman had been with, and how he compared to her former lovers.
Carol was a lady, and he‟d cursed her out like a common street whore.
In his mind he could still picture the way she‟d slowly folded into herself. The flinches she‟d made as each word hit its target. Another woman would have cursed him back, the black in her rising to the forefront as her neck rolled, finger pointed, and she “handled business.” Not Carol; she‟d sat there and taken it. Once his initial fury had cooled and he could clearly think again, guilt hit him hard.
Along with the sure knowledge that he‟d screwed up—royally.
Even knowing that he was wrong and owed her an apology, he couldn‟t force himself to go to her. He was still upset. She‟d lied to him. Used him. She claimed to love him, but if she really did, wouldn‟t she have told him what was happening as soon as she discovered the truth? It was his life, his humanity she was fucking with.
And for that reason, his anger still burned.
It didn‟t help that now that she‟d brought it to his
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