Page 29 of The Raven's Alpha
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 hisbird 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 warmand 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 thespare 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 sightof 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?"