The Mate Curvy of the Forbidden Alpha

Treacherous Zippers

Anne

Peace between two rival packs hinged on a tower of caviar sandwiches, and I was about to become the woman who would start a war because of a poorly balanced tray.

It wasn’t the kind of legacy one dreamed of leaving behind.

“Don’t let go of it!” I shouted urgently.

The waiter holding the tray looked at me as if I’d asked him to defuse a bomb.

“The tray?” he asked, as if it were obvious.

“No, Kevin. The ceiling,” I replied sarcastically. “Of course, the tray!”

He gripped the tray tightly with both hands while I rearranged the small pieces of toast that were tilting dangerously to the right.

I’d spent three weeks preparing the catering for the signing of the peace treaty between Willow Creek, my pack, and the Ravenshade. Three weeks calculating portions, tweaking menus, and preventing my Aunt Rose from adding fruit gelatin to a diplomatic dinner.

According to her, no conflict could survive pineapple gelatin.

According to me, wars started precisely because of things like that, so I wasn’t going to let the basic tastes of a woman with the palate of a three-year-old win out.

“Anne, the Alpha asked for more vegetarian canapés,” said one of the waitresses.

“They’re on the cold table, behind the mushrooms,” I pointed out as I finished up with the tray.

“Your mother said to serve them later,” Kevin whispered.

“My stepmother doesn’t manage the catering,” I snapped without hesitation.

No one argued.

In Willow Creek, everyone knew that my meals were one-of-a-kind, but they also knew that my family was excellent at taking advantage of my work and acting as if they were doing me a favor by letting me do it.

My stepmother had taken credit for organizing the event in front of the council. My father had told anyone willing to listen that he had financed my training as a pastry chef, even though my education had been paid for with scholarships, night jobs, and an insane amount of coffee.

The reality was that I had created the menu.

And yet, my name didn’t appear on a single place card.

I shouldn’t let it bother me. That’s what I kept telling myself as I adjusted the ribbon on my apron over the dark green dress my stepmother had chosen for me.

“This dress hides your hips,” she’d said the night before.

As if my hips were committing tax fraud and needed to hide from the authorities.

I shook my head to banish the memory.

The ceremonial bell began to ring in the main hall. The guests’ murmurs died down, and even the kitchen seemed to hold its breath.

The signing was about to begin.

The Ravenshade and Willow Creek packs had been at odds for generations over borders, trade routes, and grievances so ancient that no one could remember who had bitten whom first. The last five years had been particularly tense. We had lost crops, soldiers, and entire families who would rather cross half the continent than risk living near the border.

That night, everything was supposed to change.

The Ravenshade Alpha had arrived with forty warriors and a reputation that preceded him.

Nathan Blackstone.

I hadn’t seen him. I was too busy keeping the profiteroles from collapsing, but I’d heard the whispers.

Supposedly, he was a giant, over six feet tall, could move through shadows, and was so lethal that he’d dethroned his own father. But that was trivial compared to the real criticism.

The man never smiled.

My cousin Nicole insisted he was also outrageously attractive, though she considered any man with broad shoulders and territorial holdings to be attractive.

The master of ceremonies’ voice came from the hall through the sound ducts.

“Both packs recognize the need for a lasting peace and agree to abide by the terms of the Treaty of the Two Borders.”

The cooks stopped working to listen; I just kept placing tartlets on a new tray.

Unfortunately, treaties didn’t prevent the cream from turning watery.

“The Neutral Blood Clause says that for twelve years after this agreement is signed, no Alpha, heir, or council member can claim, mark, or form a bond with a magic user from the other pack.”

I looked up in surprise.

“Strategic magic user?” Kevin asked with genuine curiosity.

“It’s a fancy way of saying that some people are considered weapons on legs,” I said mockingly.

“Even marriage?” Kevin asked incredulously.

I placed a strawberry on a tartlet.

“The nobles needed laws even for kissing. Without an official document, they might mix up lips and cause an invasion.”

Some of the kitchen staff laughed.

My stepmother appeared in the doorway just in time to prove that the universe punished any moment of happiness.

“Anne, keep your voice down,” she ordered, and I looked at her with amusement.

“I’m in a kitchen full of pots. Discretion died three hours ago.”

Her eyes swept down my body with that silent appraisal I’d known since childhood. I straightened up before she could ask me to.

“Make sure you don’t go too far into the hall,” she said firmly. “The representatives are taking photographs.”

For a moment, I didn’t understand.

Then I did.

She didn’t want me, the woman who had prepared the banquet, to appear in the official photos.

My large, obese body didn’t fit in with the aesthetics of peace.

“Relax,” I replied with feigned calm. “I’m not going to jump on the main table and douse myself in wine sauce.”

“Don’t turn everything into a joke!”

“Not everything. Just the things that hurt too much to chew without a side dish.”

Her face tensed, but a waitress came in announcing that trays were running low, and she finally left.

I took a deep breath.

I wasn’t going to let her ruin the night.

Garret would be here any minute. He knew how much that dinner meant to me. He’d promised to stop by the kitchen before the ceremony and bring me something to drink.

Garret always said he admired my talent.

Sometimes he also said I needed to learn to “present it better,” but no relationship was perfect.

That’s what I thought back then.

“Anne!” Kevin shouted.

I turned around.

The tower of sandwiches was teetering.

I ran toward it, dodged a waiter, and lunged for the bottom tray. I managed to hold it just a few centimeters above the floor.

The kitchen erupted in applause.

“Peace has been saved,” I announced calmly.

Then the worst thing that could happen to me happened.

I heard the sound of something tearing, and my dress gave way at the back with the dignity of an old curtain.

A chill ran up my back from my waist to my shoulder blades.

The applause stopped.

I closed my eyes.

“Shit.”

One of the cooks came over and inspected the damage.

“The zipper broke.”

“Thanks, Marley. I was afraid a bear had bitten me without me noticing.”

She tried to patch the fabric together, but the dress had decided to shirk all responsibility.

My apron covered the front. In the back, however, the situation was a free-for-all of underwear and bad decisions.

“Go to the guest bathroom,” Marley said before handing me my purse.

I took off my apron, draped it over my shoulders like a makeshift cape, and left the kitchen.

The hallway was almost empty because everyone had gathered for the signing. I made my way along the wall, praying I wouldn’t run into any agents, advisors, or anyone with eyes.

I turned the corner too quickly.

And I crashed into a wall.

A wall of muscles, warm, solid, and clad in a black cape.

Two hands caught me before I ended up sitting on the floor.

“Careful,” said a man with a deep, slightly amused voice.

I looked up.

And kept looking up.

The stranger was absurdly tall. He had black hair slicked back, stormy gray eyes, and a face so stern that it would have been intimidating if one of his hands hadn’t continued to hold me with surprising gentleness.

I felt something strange.

Not just a simple attraction.

It was a tug beneath my ribs. A fleeting warmth that coursed through my body and settled in my chest as if my heart had recognized a song I’d never heard before.

He stopped smiling.

His pupils dilated.

For a second, neither of us spoke.

Now that’s a real man, said my she-wolf, Nina.

“Are you hurt?” the stranger finally asked.

“Just my pride,” I said calmly. “And my dress. Both are in critical condition.”

His eyes drifted down to the apron I was using to cover my back. He didn’t look at my body. He didn’t frown. He didn’t make that awkward pause that many people do before deciding how to address a woman of my size.

He simply let go of my arms and took off his cloak.

“Here.”

“I don’t need a cloak.”

A draft brushed against my back.

“You do,” he said calmly.

He helped me drape it over my shoulders. The fabric was heavy, warm, and smelled of wood, cold, and something dark I couldn’t quite place.

“I was looking for a restroom,” I explained.

“It’s behind you.”

I turned around.

I’d walked right past the door.

Great.

“Dignity doesn’t improve my sense of direction.”

The stranger looked at the opening in my dress.

“I have a pin.”

He pulled a metal one from the clasp of his cloak. It was black, slender, and shaped like a wolf.

“Do you always carry sewing supplies?”

“Government…” He paused, as if he’d been about to say too much. “I tend to be prepared.”

“For wars, treaties, and butt emergencies,” I said without a filter.

The laugh that escaped from his chest was brief and genuine, and it completely transformed his face.

My heart did that absurd thing again.

He handed me the pin and turned away without my having to ask him to.

That gesture moved me more than was reasonable.

He didn’t try to help me without permission, didn’t stare, and didn’t make jokes about my body.

He just stood with his back to me, guarding the hallway while I pieced the fabric together as best I could.

“Done,” I said.

He turned around.

We were standing too close.

His gaze drifted down to my mouth and then back to my eyes.

The heat beneath my ribs intensified.

For a moment, I forgot about the treaty, the kitchen, my stepmother, and even Garret’s existence.

“I wouldn’t hesitate to devour him,” Nina blurted out excitedly.

Then a woman’s moan drifted through the bathroom door.

The moan was loud, enthusiastic, and even joyful.

And accompanied by the rhythmic thud of something against the wall.

The stranger raised an eyebrow.

I looked at the door, and another moan echoed down the hallway.

Peace between two packs had just been sealed, my dress was pinned up by an incredibly handsome stranger, and someone was having a religious experience inside the only bathroom I needed to use.

The night promised to get interesting.

The laugh that escaped from his chest was brief and genuine, and it completely transformed his face.

My heart did that absurd thing again.

He handed me the pin and turned away without my having to ask him to.

That gesture moved me more than was reasonable.

He didn’t try to help me without permission, didn’t stare, and didn’t make jokes about my body.

He just stood with his back to me, guarding the hallway while I pieced the fabric together as best I could.

“Done,” I said.

He turned around.

We were standing too close.

His gaze drifted down to my mouth and then back to my eyes.

The heat beneath my ribs intensified.

For a moment, I forgot about the treaty, the kitchen, my stepmother, and even Garret’s existence.

I wouldn’t hesitate to devour him, Nina blurted out excitedly.

Then a woman’s moan drifted through the bathroom door.

The moan was loud, enthusiastic, and even joyful.

And accompanied by the rhythmic thud of something against the wall.

The stranger raised an eyebrow.

I looked at the door, and another moan echoed down the hallway.

Peace between two packs had just been sealed, my dress was pinned up by an incredibly handsome stranger, and someone was having a religious experience inside the only bathroom I needed to use.

The night promised to get interesting.