Mated To The Alpha: A Standalone Wolf Shifter Romance, стр. 3

Emma watched as Kate paced back and forth in their small cell. Even locked up and desperate, Kate looked beautiful. All dark hair, dark eyes, and a smile that promised every unsuspecting male she ever turned her attention on not only sensual pleasure, but pure, uninhibited fun.

"Wait, back up." Emma ordered Kate, quietly. "Now turn a bit, look all pouty and worried, staring off into space again. You reminded me of someone, and I just couldn't place...oh! Megan Fox. That's who you just looked like. And now you ruined it."

Emma giggled as Kate crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue, most un-Megan Fox-like.

"I wish I looked like you," Emma sighed, trying to kill the time before their parents arrived by pretending she wasn't locked in a drunk tank, waiting on her dad.

"Me? Whatever for?"

Emma was about to elaborate, comparing herself and her giantess height, garish red hair and fair coloring to her friend's beauty, lingering on the size of her stomach, ass and thighs, but she stopped when her dad stepped in front of their little cell.

He was led by the officer that brought them in here, and followed by Kate's father, who was bringing up the rear of the small group.

Emma couldn't help but smile at her dad's appearance in front of her. Every time she saw him, which wasn't very often as he was always gone or working, he reminded her of a taller version of the cartoon dad in the Disney movie Beauty and the Beast.

She'd always been told she got her fiery looks from her mother, who’d died shortly after Emma was born. All she knew was that she didn't see any of herself in her father, Henry, at all.

His prematurely white hair stood up in little poufs where he had obviously run his hands through it, probably worrying about her. That thought made Emma feel guilty.

His moustache twitched as he took his time, preparing to speak.

Henry looked at both girls, nodding an acknowledgement at Kate, before focusing in on his daughter. His eyes drooped a bit, always making him look like he'd lived a tough life, but when you looked past his weary face, and into the eyes themselves, there was a calmness in their depths that made even strangers want to trust him. It was part of what made him such a good and well-respected Sheriff, once you got past his eccentricities.

"Emma, you aren't going to like what I have to say, I'll tell you that much right up front. But it's got to be said. I haven't done right by you, not by a long shot."

Emma started to protest, standing up in a rush to face her dad. She was just as tall as he, looking him eye to eye for a few years now. She was used to it. She’d towered over most women, standing eye to eye with most men, since she'd turned sixteen or so.

He stilled her protests with a small motion of his hand and a narrowing of his eyes, and kept talking.

"I've been easier on you than I ever should have been, not having your mom around to help me and all. I've done you a disservice in that, and I know it. I've left you to largely raise yourself, relying on the proverbial village, so to speak. I knew it wasn't right, but it is what it is now."

He cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable, buying himself a little time before continuing.

"In the old days, men that were headed down the path you ladies seem to be headed down were given the choice of jail or the military. I’m offering you a similar choice and I'll have your answer before I let you out of here.”

“My choice is between jail or the military?” she asked, confused and starting to panic all over again.

“No, I just meant,” he stopped, then shook his head. “That’s just where I got my idea. Between that and the pressure I’ve gotten over the years from your mother’s side of the family, to see you…”

His sentence faded off again as he tried to gather his thoughts, but Emma was used to it.

She waited somewhat impatiently to hear where this was going. Her heart sped up first at the mention of the military and then it spiked high at the mention of her mother's family. Her dad hardly ever spoke of them, so hearing them brought up here, now, made her breath come in quick pants, and her eyes widen in surprise.

"I can leave you here to be processed, letting the store manager press charges, which would result in you having an official criminal record. Or, you can choose to spend one year with your mother's people."

Emma shook her head in shock and confusion.

My mother has people? she thought.

"They aren't very far away, but they do keep largely to themselves. It's a rather, how should I say this?" He paused, his eyes darting to Kate and then to Kate's father, before continuing in what felt to Emma to be a more guarded tone.

"It's a rather contained, traditional, almost tribal population. I think they would be good for you. They'd teach you respect. Honor. Things I seem to have failed to instill."

"Dad, don't! Don't send me away, please. It's my first offense, I've learned my lesson, I swear."

He just shook his head saying, "No, Emma. It's just the first time someone held you accountable. I've known about all the other times. You two aren't nearly as good at being bad as you think you are. In town, the shop keepers just keep a tally of what you take, and they send me a bill."

"What?" Kate asked, beating Emma to it. She stood up and faced her own dad, who was nodding beside Henry.

"You knew? You both knew? So what, you just made fools of us? Following behind us and cleaning up after us?" Kate's voice got louder.

"You've made fools of yourselves, actually," Kate's dad responded. "But yes, we did clean up after you. I'm just