The Raven’s Alpha (Nature’s Embrace #1)

Chapter Four

Eddy Elwood

Watching my fated mate sprint naked down the road after a forced shift, is not how I expected my day to go. For years I’ve been dreaming about meeting my one and only. I’ve rejected Goddess knows how many omegas because I’ve been saving myself for the special someone.

Even before I discovered the raven's secret, I sensed a connection with the bird that went beyond mere friendship. But I wrote it off as a fleeting feeling, unaware that it was actually a harbinger of something more profound. When I finally learned that the raven was a shifter and my fated mate, I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. How could I have been so blind? As soon as he shifted, I was consumed by a strange, dreamlike trance. I'd heard the stories about the instant connection between fated mates, but nothing could have prepared me for the intensity of my emotions. Instead of swooning into love, I stood frozen in shock, unable to process what was happening.

I've botched things, and now I'm left wondering if the raven will ever return to me. The truth is, I desperately need him to come back. Not just because I've made a mistake, but because I've come to realise that my connection to him is far deeper than I initially thought. I've hurt him, and I know that I must make amends if I'm to have any chance of rekindling our bond.

As I stand there, lost in thought, the creaking of the cabin's door echoes through the forest, jolts me back to reality. My gaze drifts towards the movement, and my heart skips a beat as I remember that Cleo, the pesky cat shifter, is still lurking about. My mind reels with guilt as I realise that I'm neglecting to defend my fated mate against Cleo's taunts. The thought sends a pang of regret through me.

Cleo's flirtatious advances have been a persistent issue in the past. Despite her bold attempts, I've repeatedly made it clear that we're better suited as friends. And yet, driven by her own desires, she persists. As I stand here, my calm demeanour suddenly shatters. I'm consumed by a white-hot fury, a rare and intense emotion that threatens to overwhelm me.

I burst through the cabin door, my anger simmering just below the surface. My eyes scan the room, already knowing what I'll find. And when I get to my bedroom, I see her, sprawled on my bed, her piercing gaze locked onto mine. The air is thick with tension as I stride towards her, my heart racing in my chest.

"Cleo, get out," I snarl, my voice low and menacing. Her eyes flash up at me, defiant and challenging. But I'm not in the mood for games. "You're not welcome here," I growl. "Leave now."

Cleo's smile is a slow burn, spreading across her face like a wildfire. She knows exactly how to push my buttons.

"You're just mad because of that stupid raven," she says, her voice dripping with malice.

I take a step closer, my fists clenched at my sides.

"Stupid?" I repeat, my voice cold and deadly. "That stupid raven is my fated mate!"

The tension between us is palpable, a living thing that crackles with energy. And then her eyes flash up at me again, and for a moment, we're locked in a silent understanding. But I'm not going to let her get away with this. Not again.

"You need to leave," I say again, my voice firm .

Her smile grows wider, and for a moment, I think she's going to laugh in my face. But then she rises from the bed, her movements slow and deliberate.

"Fine," she says, her voice dripping with malice. "I'll leave."

"I'm leaving for a walk, and I expect you to be gone by the time I return," I say, my voice firm and commanding.

I don't give her a chance to respond before I turn on my heel and march out of the room, my anger and frustration driving me forward. The door slams shut behind me, leaving Cleo's defiant gaze burning in my mind.

As I stalk through the house, I can feel my emotions simmering just below the surface. My fists are clenched at my sides, and my heart is pounding in my chest. But I'm not going to let Cleo get away with this. Not again.

I burst out the back door into the bright sunlight. The air is cool and crisp, filling my lungs with a sense of freedom. But even as I take a deep breath and begin my walk, I can feel Cleo's presence lurking in the shadows

I rip off my clothes, my hands trembling with rage as my body begins to shift. The transformation is a chaotic mess, my muscles contorting in ways that feel both exhilarating and terrifying. I roar with fury, but all that comes out is a pitiful whine. It's a sound that makes me want to crawl under a rock and hide.

As I stand there, I'm hit with a wave of shame. Why can't I just be strong for once? Why does this always have to happen to me?

Gazing up at the sky, I whisper a heartfelt plea to the Goddess, asking her to weave her magic and bring my fated back to me. I promise to support him, and to work on building trust and understanding in our relationship. I long for the warmth of his touch and the comfort of his presence. I pray that our reunion will bring us closer together and fill our hearts with joy .

Dropping down to all fours, I run through the snow, the crunch of my paws on the frozen ground the only sound that breaks the silence. The sweet, tangy aroma of ripened berries hangs heavy in the air, a scent that's both familiar and intoxicating. Catching more of his scent, my nostrils flare as I try to deeper inhale the delicious smell, and I'm struck by the realisation that he's been hiding his true nature from me. As I run through the snow, my heart racing with excitement and fear, I realise that I've been searching for him for so long, and now that I've found him and lost him again, I'm not sure what to do next. The revelation hits me like a ton of bricks, making me stumble through the snow as I try to wrap my head around this new information.

As I stand in the snow-covered clearing with the cold air nipping at my nose, I realise my mate is a paradox, a puzzle that defies my every attempt to understand him. Over the years, I've imagined what type of person they would be, what species of shifter they would be. But none of my expectations have come close to reality. My mate is nothing like I expected, and I'm left feeling like I'm stuck in a dream from which I can't wake up. As I think of him, I feel a mix of emotions: surprise, confusion, and a hint of disappointment. I'd built up these expectations in my head, and now they're crumbling around me.

When I took in his human form, I was struck by the stark contrast between his diminutive size and the bold, black-painted nails on his fingers and toes. He was so much smaller than my six-foot-nine height, maybe smaller than five feet. He was a tiny, delicate thing. When I gazed at my mate's small, vulnerable form, I felt a surge of protectiveness and concern wash over me. It was as if I'd been waiting my whole life for this moment, this chance to care for and nurture someone. I felt an overwhelming desire to enfold him in my arms, to feel his small body pressed against mine and know that he was safe. I wanted to wrap him in my arms and shield him from the cold air, to cradle him against my chest and feel his warmth spread through me.

Sitting by the frozen lake, my chest starts to tighten with anxiety. I force myself to take a few deep breaths, trying to calm the storm brewing inside me. The cold seeping into my bones seems to match the chill in my heart. I feel a pang of guilt for not being able to imminently fix this, for not being able to protect him like I should. I know I need to figure out a plan to find him, but what if he doesn't want to be found? What if he's hiding from me? As I sit here, trying to clear my head, I know that once I get home, I'll need to focus on finding my fated.

I trudge back home through the snow, my fur fluffed up against the cold, but my bones still feel like they're being slowly frozen by the chill of the lake. I'm grateful for the warmth of my home, but my mind is still out at the lake, searching for answers. I shiver as I walk through the door, my teeth chattering against each other as I try to warm up. I move closer to the fire, I can feel its warmth seeping into my bones, chasing away the chill that's settled in my very marrow.

Standing in front of the roaring fire the sickly aroma of Cleo lingers in the air, making my stomach turn. I feel a surge of revulsion as I catch a whiff of it, and I quickly open all the windows to clear the air. The cold air rushes in as I do, and I can hear the distant call of the forest animals, the melody a stark contrast to the sugary scent that still clings to my home. After taking a few deep breaths, I head towards my bathroom and I hop into the shower, letting the warm water wash away not only the chill but also the lingering memory of Cleo's presence.

As I emerge from the shower, the scent of her is still there, but before it can take hold, I light some candles and let the sweet aroma of berries fill my cabin. The warm glow of the flames casts a golden light on the wooden walls, and for a moment, I forget about everything else. The juicy fragrance of berries envelops me, and I feel a sense of peace wash over me. As I inhale deeply, I can almost imagine my little bird perched on my shoulder, watching me with his big, round eyes. When I open my eyes again, I'm reminded that it's just artificial scent, but it's close enough to transport me to a place where everything feels right with the world.

After a night of restless sleep, I toss off the covers and abandon any hope of a lie-in. How can I even think about resting when I know my mate is out there, probably seething with resentment? The thought alone makes my stomach twist with anxiety. When I sit up in bed, I'm struck by the faint hum of our connection - like a buzzing in my mind, even though we barely touched. It's as if the threads of our bond are weaving together, like a delicate tapestry, slowly forming a pattern that's hard to ignore. Even though we barely made contact, the link between us is already palpable, and that realisation gives me enough hope to cling to. Maybe - just maybe - I can make things right between us

I spent the evening in my cabin, lost in thought as I tried to come up with a plan to track my little bird. But my mind was blank, and my attempts at problem-solving only left me feeling frustrated.

I know that I need to do the thing I hate most: leaving my cabin and socialising with the villagers. I’m not looking forward to it, but I know it’s necessary if I want to get any closer to finding my little bird.

As I pull into the parking lot behind my bakery, the creaky springs of my rusty old truck protesting every bump, I can't help but think of him perched up on my roof, his bright eyes gleaming with curiosity. I push the memory away, focusing on the task ahead. I step out into the crisp morning air. The sunlight casts long shadows across the pavement as I walk towards the group of business owners gathered outside the coffee shop. I decide to take a chance and ask them if they've seen my little bird, hoping that maybe someone has caught a glimpse of him flitting about the village .

When that doesn’t help, I decide that going to see the local shifters is the best idea, so I head towards the bookstore. I push open the creaky door, a warm golden light spills out onto the street, beckoning me into the mystical realm within. The air is charged with an otherworldly hum, and I can feel my senses heightening as I step across the threshold. The scent of old parchment and mystical spices wafts through the air, transporting me to a world beyond this mortal coil. I'm enveloped by shelves upon shelves of ancient tomes, their leather bindings creaking softly as they whisper secrets to one another. The sound of whispering pages is like a gentle chant, drawing me deeper into the heart of the bookstore. As I make my way deeper into the shop, I can feel the weight of magic emanating from every shelf, every corner, every dusty book

The scent of books and aged paper are strong, but the aroma of magic that I would describe as smoky incense is almost overpowering, albeit comforting. I come here at least once a week, buying a new book each time I finish my current read. The store owner, Ezra, is a polite young guy and is one of the few omegas in this town that have always been kind to me.

“Ezra?” I call out to the open room, my voice echoing off the walls.

Ezra jumps up from underneath the desk, his brown hair is tousled, as if he's just rolled out of bed, with strands sticking out in every direction. His cheeks are adorned with sleep lines and his eyes are still half-closed, giving him a sleepy look. Despite his dishevelled appearance, his height is still striking - at least six feet tall, making him one of the tallest omegas I know. He stretches, arching his back and extending his arms over his head, and for a moment, I can almost see the mouse shifter lurking beneath his human form.

Stepping closer to him, I notice the faint scent of fresh coffee wafting from his clothes, mingling with the earthy aroma of the book store. He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and says "Eddy, hey. I didn't hear you come in." His voice is warm and gentle, like a summer breeze on a sunny day.

I lean forward to peer behind his desk, and my eyes land on a tangled mess of blankets scattered across the floor. The sight makes my brow furrow in concern. "Have you been sleeping here?" I question, trying to keep my tone neutral.

His eyes dart upward, as he shakes his head vehemently, "What? No, of course not!" The words are laced with a hint of desperation, and his voice cracks slightly on the second syllable.

I raise an eyebrow, sceptical. "Don't lie to me, Ezra. I can see the exhaustion etched on your face."

His expression twists, and for a moment, I see a glimmer of fear in his eyes. Then, he takes a deep breath and tries to compose himself. "Okay, fine. I...I didn't mean to fall asleep," he admits grudgingly.

I sense a weight shifting in his words, and my instincts scream at me to dig deeper. "What's going on?" I press, my voice low and urgent.

Ezra's words are laced with an unconvincing tone, and his eyes dart away from mine as he speaks. "Nothing. I've just been working late for the past couple of days and after falling asleep at my desk, I just thought it would be better if I were more comfortable." His voice trails off, and he nervously scratches at his arms.

"This has nothing to do with Ma..."

His face contorts in a mixture of rage and desperation as he cuts me off with a loud shout, “Nope!” He holds a shaking hand out to me, his fingers splayed like claws, as if trying to physically stop me from saying the words. His eyes blaze with anger, and his jaw clenches so tightly that I can see the tendons straining in his neck.

I freeze, my mouth open mid-sentence. My heart races as I take in Ezra's reaction, my mind racing with questions. What's going on? Why is he so upset?

The air seems to vibrate with tension as we lock eyes, the silence between us heavy with unspoken emotions. I can feel my own pulse pounding in my temples, and I'm acutely aware of the weight of our past bearing down on us like a physical force.

I fix him with a pointed stare. "Ok. I'll leave it alone. But you know you can always come to me if something happens, right?" I say, my voice low and even.

His eyes flicker up to my face, his expression neutral but his eyes betraying a hint of wariness. "Yeah, I know. Thanks Eddy." He pauses, his gaze drifting away from mine before snapping back into focus. "Anyways, what can I do for you? Do you need a new book already? You only got one a couple of days ago."

"Now that I'm here, I may as well grab another one... but I wanted to talk to you about something else."

Ezra's expression turns sceptical, his eyebrows rising in inquiry. "Shoot."

I rub the back of my neck, feeling a sudden surge of anxiety like a cold breeze on a summer day. "I met my fated last night," I say, the words tumbling out in a rush.

His eyes, which had been narrowed in concern, now crinkled at the corners as he grins. "Eddy, that's amazing! Congratulations!" Ezra's eyes light up with excitement as he asks, “What's he like?”

I launch into an enthusiastic description, trying to convey the intensity of my feelings. "He's young, early twenties if I had to guess. A lot shorter than me, maybe around five feet. He has this incredible dark hair that falls down his back like a waterfall, and his eyes are like two dark pools that draw me in."

I pause, searching for the right words to describe the mate who had captured my heart. "And when he smiles... oh, Ezra, it's like the sun breaking through the clouds. He's gorgeous, and I feel like I'm drowning in his beauty. "

Ezra nodded enthusiastically, his own excitement building. "I can see why you're so taken with him," he said, his voice filled with understanding.

“And then, I don’t know, Ezra. We only spoke for a couple of minutes, after he seemed to have a forced shift. He was really upset because one of my friends was flirting with me... and then she stole his necklace.”

“Wait, what? Forced shift? And what necklace?” Ezra asks, clearly confused.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm down. “So, I was closing up the bakery last night and my friend Cleo turned up uninvited, like she always does. She's been making it clear she's interested in me for years, but I've told her repeatedly that I'm waiting for my fated mate.'"

His eyes narrow as he asks, "What do you mean?"

I hesitate, unsure how much to reveal. "Let's just say she's been pushing my boundaries lately. And then, when we got to my house, things got really weird."

I pause for a moment, letting the drama sink in. "As I got out of my truck, a raven came swooping down, its black feathers glistening in the fading light. It landed on the roof of my truck, its eyes gleaming with an otherworldly intelligence. And then I noticed something in its beak – a necklace."

His eyes widen in surprise. "A necklace?"

I nodded grimly. "Yeah. A real beautiful one. And when I went to reach for it, Cleo snatched it away.”

Ezra holds up a hand, "Wait, is this the first time meeting the raven or...?"

I shake my head, "No, kind of. He's been hanging around my property for a while now, but I wasn’t sure if he's one of us or just a regular bird. He leaves me little gifts on my doorstep and I leave him seeds and fruit in a little bowl in return."

He nods his understanding, his eyes fixed intently on me.

"So yeah, he has this necklace, and when I started speaking to him, Cleo suddenly appeared out of nowhere and began taunting him. Her words dripped with venom as she spat out insults. I wanted to intervene, but I was too slow - she snatched the necklace and fastened it around her neck before strutting into my cabin like she owned the place. I was too shocked to do anything in the moment and then when she was gone, I could tell the raven was getting overwhelmed and then he shifted into his human form... his very naked human form.” Don’t get turned on. Don’t get turned on. Don’t get turned on.

Ezra laughs as he holds up his hand, his nose wrinkling in distaste. “You really need to work on your self-control, Eddy,” he says, his voice low and exasperated. “I love you, but I didn't sign up for this... aroma.” He waves his hand again, and I couldn't help but feel a sting from his words.

“Shut up,” I say with a scowl.

"I'm kidding," he says with a chuckle. His eyes sparkling with amusement. But then his expression turns serious. "Actually, I think I do know who your raven is," he says, his voice low and conspiratorial.

I raise an eyebrow. "Who?"

Ezra's eyes lock onto mine, his voice low and conspiratorial. "As far as I’m aware, there aren't many raven shifters in Everlong, and even fewer who match your description. But there's one who stands out - Darcy, the owner of the gothic mansion at the top of the hills. You know the one I'm talking about? The one that seems to loom over the town like a spirit?"

Of course, I know the place he’s talking about. I’ve never been to the mansion but the place is huge and is well known throughout the village for its unique architecture, although I thought the place was abandoned .

I nod thoughtfully, my mind racing to think up a plan. "Yeah, I know the place. But I'm not sure if just showing up at his doorstep is a good idea. I don’t want to scare the poor guy."

His grin grows wider. "Exactly. That's why we should send him something instead. A bouquet of rare flowers and a handwritten note might be just what we need to get his attention."

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his idea. "You know, that's actually a really good idea. I can see it now - a bunch of exotic flowers and a note that says something like 'I’m sorry I was an idiot’."

Ezra chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Something like that. And who knows, maybe he'll be impressed by our... creative approach."

I smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment after wrapping up my conversation with Ezra. "Tomorrow morning, I'll bring you some treats from Grizzlies," I say, already looking forward to our next encounter.

As I head towards the door, I glance back at the shelves and spot something that catches my eye. ‘Ah, Darcy would love this,’ my bear says, its voice low and rumbling. I nod in agreement and grab the gift.

While I make my way back home, I can’t help but think about my little bird's name. Darcy has a certain ring to it, don't you think?