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

Chapter Ten

Eddy Elwood

I'm grateful I didn't set my alarm this morning, the thought of disturbing Darcy's slumber isn’t something I want to risk. I carefully slide out of bed, trying not to awaken him, and make my way to the bathroom to freshen up. Since we're sharing a space, I opt for a quick sink wash instead of a shower, not wanting to risk waking him up.

After I finish getting dressed, I jot down a quick note to let Darcy know I've left for work. I leave him my phone number, just in case he needs to contact me, since we haven't exchanged numbers yet. On the note I draw a little heart next to my name, hoping it'll be a sweet reminder for him when he wakes up.

As I’m preparing to leave, I take a moment to ensure the cabin is cosy and comfortable for Darcy. I quietly turn on the heat and shut the front door behind me, making sure to leave it just as I found it. I also note that Darcy used the back door last night, so he should be able to exit easily if needed.

I start the engine, pausing for a moment to let the truck warm up before hitting the road. But even as I wait, I can feel my chest constricting with a pang of longing. When I finally leave and the distance between Darcy and I grows with every mile, my Grizzly - already a bit testy from being away from my mate - growls in protest.

I reflect on our adventure in the woods yesterday, and I'm reminded of the joy that lit up my bear. He was enchanted for hours, mesmerised by Darcy's raven soaring overhead. And it's not just his bird form that captivates him - my bear adores Darcy's human form just as much, if not more.

As our bond grows stronger, I'm finding it increasingly difficult to resist my growing obsession with Darcy. The way he effortlessly weaves himself into the fabric of my life, is both exhilarating and terrifying, I want him to become a fundamental part of my daily routine. The pang of sadness that strikes me when I think about the family he's lost is a poignant reminder of the complexities of his past. It's a painful reality that I'm still grappling with, and one that I know I need to address - starting with a conversation with my parents.

The early morning sunlight is just starting to creep over the horizon as I pull into the bakery's parking lot. I know my parents will already be up and busy, but I'm determined to catch them before the day gets away. I quickly dial my mother's number, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach. I know she'll have a meltdown if I share my news with my dad before her.

Mum's voice is laced with panic as she answers my call. “Edgar, is everything okay?” she asks, her tone urgent.

“Hey, Mum, everything's fine, but I thought I'd catch you before the day gets crazy. I know you guys are always up early, getting the bakery ready.”

"Ah, that's a relief," Mum says, a hint of relief in her voice. I can hear that as she begins to potter about with whatever she was doing before our call. "Your father is already out in the back, tending to whatever project he's working on at this ungodly hour. I'm just trying to get this kitchen back in order.”

"I'm glad to hear that," I say, attempting to sound casual. "So, what's been going on in your world? Anything new and exciting?"

The sound of my mother's laughter echoes through the receiver, transporting me back to countless childhood mornings. The twinkling quality of her laughter is a core memory, one that I've clung to all these years. "Edgar, spit it out," she says, her voice warm and playful. "You know I'm always delighted to hear from you, but you don't usually call when it's still dark outside."

I take a deep breath, stealing myself to reveal the news. "I've met my fated ma" my mother's reaction is immediate. Her shriek of delight drowns out my words, and I'm forced to pause as she bursts into a frantic, if incoherent, monologue.

As I wait for my mother to calm, she screams out, "Hold on one second, baby," and the phone clatters against the kitchen counter. A moment later, her voice echoes through the room as she yells out to her husband, "Norman! Norman, come quickly! Edgar's met his mate! His fated mate, for goodness' sake! Hurry up, Norman!"

I'd been hoping that talking to my mother early would temper her reaction, but I knew I was being foolish. She's always been ecstatic about the prospect of me finding my mate, and with good reason. She's known for years I've been waiting for this moment, and she's been patiently supporting me through the entire ordeal. But despite her understanding, I've always felt like she didn't truly get it. She's told me that she and my father aren't fated mates, but they fell in love young and passionately. I'm happy for them, genuinely, but I've always held out for that deeper connection, that sense of completeness that comes with finding someone who was made specifically for me.

Good heavens, woman, stop pushing me, please!" I hear my father exclaim, his voice laced with amusement. "I'm coming as quickly as my old legs can carry me!" My father's chuckle echoes through the phone, followed by a gentle scolding. "Lucy, love, calm down. What's all the fuss about?" I can almost see the smile on his face as he asks.

"I have something to share with you both," I say, my excitement barely contained. "I've found my fated mate, and I couldn't wait to tell you all about him. "

"Norman, can you put him on speaker? I'm having trouble hearing him," Mum calls out, trying to keep her frustration in check. "No, no, no! That's not the right button, Norman!" My mum's voice raises in exasperation, and then I hear the sound of the phone hitting the floor as she snatches it from Dad’s hand. The muffled shouting and laughter that follows is a familiar soundtrack to our household.

My mum's voice echoes through the speaker, warm and commanding, as she says, “Ah, there we go, dear. Now, tell us all about this fated mate of yours.” Her tone a gentle demand, infused with a hint of excitement and a dash of maternal meddling.

"His name is Darcy and he’s a raven shifter. He’s an amazing person. His eyes are really striking, and his sense of humour is infectious. I feel like I can be myself around him, and that's a really special feeling. As we've gotten to know each other better, I've realised that he's not just an amazing person - he's also incredibly kind and compassionate. He has a way of making everyone feel seen and heard, and that's something I really admire.” I could ramble on for hours about my Darcy, but I’m not going to be sharing any passionate details with my parents.

“He sounds charming, Edgar. Have you claimed each other yet?” My father asks.

“No not yet, we’re still getting to know each other. I wanted you guys to meet him before we officially bond.” I'm not looking for permission, but I want Darcy to feel a connection with my family before we officially claim each other. I'd like them to get to know each other before we make it official.

“That sounds like a fantastic idea. It’s been a while since you made the journey down here. Come for a few days and bring your beau, we can make a fun weekend of it,” My mother suggests. Before I can even finish agreeing to the idea, my mother was already hurrying off the phone, exclaiming that she needs to get fresh bed sheets in the spare room and whip up a new blanket for Darcy, as if she's already claimed him as her own.

"She'll be poring over every detail until you arrive, making sure everything is perfect. Anyway, I'll let you go, but I'll be keeping an ear out for any updates. We're both looking forward to meeting your... well, we're eager to meet him, I'm sure." He clears his throat before adding, "And don't worry about the journey, take care of yourself. The borders can be tricky, so be cautious. If you need anything, just give me a shout."

“Ok, thanks Dad. Speak soon, I love you both.”

As we wrap up the call, I glance at the clock and realise I'm already running behind schedule. I flip on the radio, letting the music wash over me as I rush to prep the bakery. I hum along as I preheat the ovens and grab the plain cupcakes from the walk-in fridge, the other day's leftovers waiting to be transformed into masterpieces.

Standing there, my face burns with shame of what I'd done in that innocent fridge. But Darcy's nonchalant reaction was a surprise - he didn't seem to care about my guilty secret, and to be honest, it was kind of a thrill to confess it to him.

When the lunch rush finally subsides, the bakery is sweltering, my shirt is clinging to my back like a wet blanket. The ovens have been burning hot for hours, and the heat is starting to get to me. I take a moment to collect myself before saying goodbye to Mrs. Jenkins, one of my regular customers, and manage to snag a few minutes to sit down and collect my thoughts.

Since being rushed off my feet for the past couple of hours I haven't had a chance to glance at my phone. Just as I'm about to rise from my seat and grab it from the kitchen counter, the bell above the door jingles, signalling the arrival of new customers.

Before I can even look up, the sweet aroma of my mate's scent wafts through the bakery, announcing his arrival before I catch sight of him. My heart swells with excitement as I take him in, his dark hair tousled and his cheeks rosy from the chill outside. He looks stunning, as always.

As I approach him, I don't hesitate, walking towards him with purpose and wrapping my arms around his waist as I press a gentle kiss to the side of his head. The height difference between us is substantial, so I bend my knees slightly to nestle into his embrace properly, feeling a sense of comfort and familiarity in his arms. Darcy hums as he squeezes me back, “Hi alpha. I missed you.”

"I missed you too, darling," I whisper, before pulling back and claiming his lips with a gentle kiss. The chill of his mouth sends a shiver down my spine as our lips mesh together, the contrast between our temperatures a thrill I've grown accustomed to.

"Have you eaten anything yet?" I ask, and Darcy nods, his eyes never leaving mine as he begins to shed his jacket. The garment reveals a familiar pullover of mine, its sleeves rolled up to his wrists and the hem pooling at his knees. I feel a flutter in my chest as I take in the sight of him in my clothes - it's not just the oven heat that's making me feel warm, but the knowledge that he's wrapped himself in something of mine. Even if he were wearing a potato sack, I'd still think he's the most stunning omega in the world.

"I grabbed a quick breakfast at the cabin, but I thought I'd drop by and see if you'd like to have lunch?" he asks, trying to sound casual. His gaze then scans the bakery, taking in the deserted tables, and his eyes sparkle with mischief as he says, "Or maybe I can do something for you... instead?"

My knuckles tighten as I struggle to calm my breathing, forcing air in through my mouth. "Just one minute," I rasp out, before lunging across the room to slam the door shut and twist the sign to "Closed." The lunch rush is over, and I'm not about to let anyone interrupt this moment .

I spin back around to face Darcy, but he's vanished from his spot. "Darcy?" I call out, my voice a little louder this time. When he doesn't respond, I push through the swinging door into the kitchen, my heart pounding in anticipation. And then I see him: sitting on the counter, a cupcake speckled with pink frosting in his hand, his eyes locked on mine with a mischievous glint.

His gaze still fixed on mine as his tongue darts across the frosting. "Mmm, Eddy, these are delicious," he says, his voice low and husky. I feel a pang of jealousy wash over me, and I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be the object of his desire - the sweet, fluffy cupcake that’s capturing his attention.

His gaze is sultry and playful. "You know, I've always thought there was nothing better than the taste of a freshly baked cupcake... until I met you," he says, his voice dripping with arousal. As he speaks, he saunters over to where I'm standing, his hips swaying seductively. He flicks a finger across the frosting, leaving a smear of pink on my lips before wrapping his hand around the back of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine.

Our lips crash together in a sweet, sticky collision, our tongues tangling in a sensual dance. I moan into the kiss, the rush of sugar and spice from the frosting mingling with the intoxicating sweetness of Darcy's mouth, creating a flavour that's both familiar and utterly new.

The kiss doesn't last nearly long enough, before Darcy suddenly breaks away, his eyes burning with an intensity that makes my heart skip a beat. He drops to his knees, his hand outstretched, and whispers, "Hold this for me, will you?"

The sweet aroma of fresh-baked cupcakes wafts through the air, and I reach out with a hesitant hand, my fingers trembling as I grasp the treat. As I do, Darcy's hands move with a sudden urgency, his fingers brushing against my stomach as he unbuckles my belt. His warm breath on my skin makes my heart race as he pulls my pants down, and I'm left stumbling to catch up as his fingers slip beneath the waistband of my boxers, leaving me feeling stunned and helpless.

My knees threaten to buckle from the pleasure and when I look down, I find him staring up at me, a wicked sparkle in those dark eyes. After he frees my cock, he asks for the cupcake back.

I do as he says and watch in amazement as he uses his fingers to paint my cock with pink frosting. My jaw drops as he happily decorates me.

The air is thick with tension, my heart’s pounding in my chest as I anticipate what he'll do next. He pauses, his tongue darting across his lips, and I feel a shiver run down my spine as he dumps the cupcake. His gaze never wavers as he asks, “You don't mind, do you?' His voice is low and husky, sending a thrill through me as I wonder what he's about to do.

Unable to form any actual words, I just nod yes and then shake it no, causing my head to swivel around in a horny and confused circle. I watch as he wraps a sticky hand around the base of my length and sucks on the tip.

I’m leaking a crazy amount of precum and Darcy’s eyes light up as he hums at the taste change, “Hmm I love this.”

I have to lock my legs and clench my stomach in an effort to keep my orgasm at bay. I know I lack experience sex wise, but I don’t want to blow my load too fast. The decision is taken out of my hands when Darcy grips my length tighter and hollows his cheeks, I just don’t have the strength to hold back when he’s sucking on me like an omega possessed.

My back arches, which just pushes myself further in his mouth as I start to pour my seed down his throat. My legs shake when Darcy doesn’t let up, he just continues to suck my cock like it’s a straw and he’s trying to get the last bit of milkshake out of the glass .

I don’t have it in me to ask him to stop, so I just grit my teeth when the tell-tale tingling starts in my spine, I whimper pathetically through my second orgasm.

When I start swaying on my feet Darcy finally pulls away. I must look a state because when he looks up at me, he giggles and shoots to his feet. “Come here, my alpha,” as he helps me to the chair that sits in the corner of the kitchen.

My heart is still racing as Darcy's fingers weave through my hair, sending shivers through me. I'm so drained that I can barely muster the energy to open my eyes. The sound of banging on the front door is like a sledgehammer to my already frazzled nerves. I groan, and Darcy giggles.

His warm breath mingles with mine as he presses his sticky lips to mine. The sensation is like a spark of electricity, sending shivers down my spine. I feel like I'm melting into him, losing myself in the intensity of the kiss. I don't want to let go but I know we can't linger. He reluctantly pulls back, our lips parting as he lets out soft sigh. "I'll go open the doors," he says, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles, and for a moment, I feel like I'm drowning in their depths.

Still sitting at the kitchen counter, I watch Darcy slip out, his boots squeaking against the tile floor. A second later, I hear his voice, his words dripping with nonchalance. "Sorry about the door being locked, Eddy was just... taking his lunch break." His words hang in the air, heavy with insincerity.

The little bugger , I think to myself as I stand up and drag myself to the toilets. Not being able to have a shower means a second sink wash is going to have to be good enough.