The Master's Baby (BBW Werewolf Erotica) (Smut-Shorties Book 11) by Mina Carter
Authors: Mina Carter
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Chapter One
She was dead. Her heart had stopped beating the instant she’d heard the news. Veyr, Master of the City, the man she loved…had mated another woman. Even now, weeks later, the realization blindsided Cyan, stole her breath and ripped through her chest to tear out her already broken heart. She stopped, a wave of lightheadedness washing over her, and clutched at the corner of the work-surface for support.
He’d mated Vanessa McCauley, the blonde-haired, beautiful Lycan princess everyone had expected him to mate. Cyan had been nothing but an aberration, a midwinter madness quickly forgotten. The sooner she accepted that, the better.
She straightened up and looked at herself in the reflection cast by the night darkened window over the sink. Her reflection looked back at her, and even she had to wince. Dark shadows nestled under her eyes, her cheeks were gaunt and her hair resembled a rat’s nest. She’d lost weight in the last couple of weeks, but it hadn’t made her feel any better. Instead of feeling sexy and svelte, she was hollow and worn out.
“Probably something to do with that asshole,” she muttered as she grabbed some baking trays from the cupboard to slam on the side, but she was kidding herself. Her tiredness no doubt had more to do with the fact she was on her own now, in more ways than one.
Repudiata Stipantis .
Not pack.
She’d forsaken her pack, divorced them and the Lycan way of life to live amongst the humans. Tears welled, but she closed her eyes tight and gripped the baking tray until the urge to cry passed. It happened a lot, but she wouldn’t give in. She had to get used to not being surrounded by others of her kind… No, not “of her kind”. She wasn’t Lycan. Not anymore. She couldn’t shift, so she didn’t belong among them, not after the humiliation she’d caused her pack. Picked and then abandoned by the Master…they’d probably removed her name from the birth records as soon as she’d spoken the ritual words to sever her connection with them.
She swallowed hard and opened her eyes, looking down. The baking tray in her hands was a mangled write-off. With a sigh, she dumped it in the trash and turned back to the kitchen of the small home she’d rented. Baking paraphernalia scattered across the surfaces, and to one side boxes filled with cupcakes waited. Leaning a hip against the counter, she allowed herself a small smile she didn’t feel.
Who knew that her skill at eating cakes could so easily translate to baking them? At a loss for something to do when she’d arrived, and not wanting to take any of the money her brother had offered, she’d applied for a job at a local café. Their new line of cupcakes had proven to be so popular that within a week earnings were up, and the elderly owner had ceded control of the kitchen.
At least one thing was going right. That, plus her boss, Mrs. Norris, had no idea she was Lycan-born, which meant there were no uncomfortable questions about her background, or about the scar on her shoulder.
Unbidden, her hand rose, and her fingertips brushed against the mark. It was still there, even though Veyr had forsaken her and taken another to mate. That shouldn’t have been possible, but perhaps Cyan wasn’t Lycan enough for it to matter? She certainly hadn’t been woman enough to hold his interest. The scar would fade soon, and become just another relic of the life she used to have.
Perhaps she could get plastic surgery? As soon as the idea occurred to her, she dismissed it. Any hospital would know what she was as soon as they tried to operate on her, and a trail was the last thing she needed. Plus, her wolf cried in misery at the thought. Cyan hushed it as she would a child until it calmed down and retreated into a small ball in the back of her mind. Poor thing. It still thought that Veyr, their mate, would come for them.
She didn’t. She’d stopped believing in fairy tales weeks ago.
***
“I’ve told you
She was dead. Her heart had stopped beating the instant she’d heard the news. Veyr, Master of the City, the man she loved…had mated another woman. Even now, weeks later, the realization blindsided Cyan, stole her breath and ripped through her chest to tear out her already broken heart. She stopped, a wave of lightheadedness washing over her, and clutched at the corner of the work-surface for support.
He’d mated Vanessa McCauley, the blonde-haired, beautiful Lycan princess everyone had expected him to mate. Cyan had been nothing but an aberration, a midwinter madness quickly forgotten. The sooner she accepted that, the better.
She straightened up and looked at herself in the reflection cast by the night darkened window over the sink. Her reflection looked back at her, and even she had to wince. Dark shadows nestled under her eyes, her cheeks were gaunt and her hair resembled a rat’s nest. She’d lost weight in the last couple of weeks, but it hadn’t made her feel any better. Instead of feeling sexy and svelte, she was hollow and worn out.
“Probably something to do with that asshole,” she muttered as she grabbed some baking trays from the cupboard to slam on the side, but she was kidding herself. Her tiredness no doubt had more to do with the fact she was on her own now, in more ways than one.
Repudiata Stipantis .
Not pack.
She’d forsaken her pack, divorced them and the Lycan way of life to live amongst the humans. Tears welled, but she closed her eyes tight and gripped the baking tray until the urge to cry passed. It happened a lot, but she wouldn’t give in. She had to get used to not being surrounded by others of her kind… No, not “of her kind”. She wasn’t Lycan. Not anymore. She couldn’t shift, so she didn’t belong among them, not after the humiliation she’d caused her pack. Picked and then abandoned by the Master…they’d probably removed her name from the birth records as soon as she’d spoken the ritual words to sever her connection with them.
She swallowed hard and opened her eyes, looking down. The baking tray in her hands was a mangled write-off. With a sigh, she dumped it in the trash and turned back to the kitchen of the small home she’d rented. Baking paraphernalia scattered across the surfaces, and to one side boxes filled with cupcakes waited. Leaning a hip against the counter, she allowed herself a small smile she didn’t feel.
Who knew that her skill at eating cakes could so easily translate to baking them? At a loss for something to do when she’d arrived, and not wanting to take any of the money her brother had offered, she’d applied for a job at a local café. Their new line of cupcakes had proven to be so popular that within a week earnings were up, and the elderly owner had ceded control of the kitchen.
At least one thing was going right. That, plus her boss, Mrs. Norris, had no idea she was Lycan-born, which meant there were no uncomfortable questions about her background, or about the scar on her shoulder.
Unbidden, her hand rose, and her fingertips brushed against the mark. It was still there, even though Veyr had forsaken her and taken another to mate. That shouldn’t have been possible, but perhaps Cyan wasn’t Lycan enough for it to matter? She certainly hadn’t been woman enough to hold his interest. The scar would fade soon, and become just another relic of the life she used to have.
Perhaps she could get plastic surgery? As soon as the idea occurred to her, she dismissed it. Any hospital would know what she was as soon as they tried to operate on her, and a trail was the last thing she needed. Plus, her wolf cried in misery at the thought. Cyan hushed it as she would a child until it calmed down and retreated into a small ball in the back of her mind. Poor thing. It still thought that Veyr, their mate, would come for them.
She didn’t. She’d stopped believing in fairy tales weeks ago.
***
“I’ve told you
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