Snow Red Read online

  Snow Red

  Kinship Cove: Books & Baes

  Ellis Leigh

  Snow Red

  Kinship Cove: Books & Baes

  Kinship Cove protects their own and is a popular spot for fairy tale heroes, heroines, and even a villain or two. Welcome to the Kinship Cove library where the sassy library clerk is about to have all her secrets exposed during story hour.

  Siamese cat shifters are known to be chatty but I don’t always live up to that stereotype, mostly because talking means telling secrets. That’s not what I should be doing. I may have run away from my own version of the evil queen to hide among the shifters of Kinship Cove, but that doesn’t mean I’m safe quiet yet.

  * * *

  Mirror Mirror, on the wall…how can I hide from my past when my fated mate is going to hunt to uncover it all?

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  1

  Arabella

  There was something about farmers markets that always brought me such joy. The excited children running around, the people sniffing and investigating crops grown by farmers who lived right down the road, and the unending patience of the vendors working the stalls as they were asked for the millionth time how much something with a price sign right in front of it was. I’d been attending farmers markets since I was a wee kitty, both as a shopper and a booth worker, and they never grew old for me.

  “Mom, look. She looks just like Snow White.”

  Neither did comments like that, especially when I’d been sent to the market specifically because I looked a lot like the movie version of Snow White.

  I turned and smiled at the young girl who’d pointed me out, dropping down to her level and wagging a finger at her until she approached.

  “Do you like fairy tales?”

  The little girl nodded, her eyes wide. I glanced up at her mother just in case, seeing nothing but happiness on her expression. Not a bit of fear or worry. Excellent. Time for the sales pitch.

  “There’s a reading club at the library just for people who like fairy tales. Every week, I or one of my princess friends come to talk about where fairy tales come from, read ones you already know and love, and explore others that you may have never heard of. Does that sound fun?”

  “Yes. Mommy, I want to go to the fairy-tale club.”

  I gave the girl a quick hug and handed her a rose. Around the stem, Matthew—the children’s librarian—had tied a simple piece of paper with the information for the fairy-tale club he’d created.

  “Here’s your invitation, young miss. Do come and see me this weekend.”

  I rose to my feet and reached into my basket, pulling out a postcard Matthew had printed. “And this is for you, your highness.”

  “Thank you,” the woman said, grabbing her daughter’s hand. “We’ll be there for sure.”

  Mission accomplished. I nodded before turning, my long red skirt billowing out in what I already knew was quite the show, and moved on through the crowd. One family invited to Matthew’s story hour. The children’s librarian loved to use me as bait for the little readers, and I loved putting on a show for them. Especially in what my mother had always called my love letter dress.

  My stomach clenched a little at the thought of my mother, and my hands began to shake. I never thought about that woman, about that time in my life. I hated to. Yet that little whisper of a memory had found its way inside my head. Ugh.

  I gripped my basket tighter, lifted my chin, and banished those thoughts from my mind. That girl—that child who had been forced to put up with her mother’s horrible treatment—was long gone. I was Arabella Snow, I worked for the Kinship Cove Library, and today, I needed to pretend to be Snow White to entice children into a summer reading program. I could not fail because of old memories.

  “Arabella!”

  I spun as I heard my name, my heart jumping for a moment. This is why we don’t think about her. I took a deep breath and found my smile, keeping it wide and bright. There, across the sea of people, was my friend Sebastian, with his trusty camera in hand.

  “Hi, Sebastian,” I said once I had walked close enough to be heard over the noise of the crowds. “Working on a story?”

  “Just a light piece about the farmers market. Nothing too crazy.” Sebastian shrugged, his cheeks already flushing. The man was nothing if not predictable. He always had that camera and would forever blush around me. He was the most bashful person I’d ever met, but I found that endearing.

  “Just photos this time or the whole thing?”

  Another shrug, more blushing. “The usual.”

  Which meant more than just pictures. Sebastian was the local newspaper reporter. And their photographer. And their editor. Pretty sure Sebastian was the only person who worked for the paper, but I would have never asked. I wouldn’t want to insult the man—he worked really hard to post stories with local interest. He also would have blushed painfully red.

  I nodded and looked up, totally ignoring the flush on his cheeks and squinting into the sun for a moment. “Well, it’s a wonderful day for the market. This weather has drawn a good crowd.”

  “Totally. It’s just so…repetitive.” He sighed and looked around the crowd. “I wish something would happen around here, you know?”

  I did know, and deep down, I hoped for the opposite—that nothing ever did happen. I wanted a quiet, calm life. No drama, no craziness, no wild histories or town horror stories. I wanted exactly what I had in Kinship Cove, but Sebastian wasn’t one to agree with such thoughts.

  “Well, perhaps one day you’ll get your wish.”

  “Perhaps.” He frowned, looking me up and down. “Hold on.”

  Within a split second, Sebastian had his camera up and was clicking away. I smiled at first then turned away, uncomfortable with so much attention. It was my turn to be the bashful one.

  “I think you have enough pictures of me.”

  “Not in that dress. You look like a fairy-tale princess.” He took a few more shots. “After the big battle scene, though.”

  “After the what?”

  “The battle scene. You know—the fight to win her hand sort of thing.” He pointed at the bottom of my skirt. “That fade to black on the very edges makes your skirt look like a fire.”

  The market spun, my breath catching. Yes, my skirt did look like that. Intentionally, though most people didn’t notice the ombre edges as much. I hated that he’d picked up on the meaning.

  Before I had to explain or brush him off, a commotion at the other end of the market caught both of our attention. Without words, we drifted closer, Sebastian likely wondering if he’d finally catch a decent story and me simply curious and looking to avoid more conversations about my skirt. Together, we pushed through a small knot of shoppers who’d obviously run into one another and wanted to chat in the middle of the path between booths, then made a turn before seeing the cause of the commotion.

  There, at the end of the row, stood a man bigger than any I’d ever seen. Thick and tall with salt-and-pepper hair and taking up all the space he could, he was impossible to ignore. As was the small child at his feet, crying. The market, the dress, the tears—memories of my own childhood flooded me. The fear I had lived in, the tears I’d cried at night when no one could hear me. Child me had needed protection I hadn’t received—I would not allow a Kinship Cove youth to be put in the same situation.

  “Hey!” I pushed through more people, picking up speed. “Hey, you! Leave that boy alone!”

  The second I made it clear of the worst of the crowd, I started running. I knew I had to look a little crazy—black hair flying in the wind, bright-red skirt with darkened edges fanning out behind me. I didn’t care, though. I’d make a spectacle o
f myself if it meant that little boy could stop being so afraid.

  The second I reached the two, I jumped in between the man and the little boy, arms out in a protective stance. My basket of flowers flew from my arm, the roses falling to the concrete. Splashes of red dancing at my feet. Something in the man’s hand distracted me for just a moment, though. Only long enough to reel in all the wild worries flying through my mind. It was a teddy bear. A small, tattered bear with a missing eye but a clean bow tie around its neck. I glanced down at the boy who seemed intent on the bear…and totally free to walk away. A large arm invaded my sight path, handing the stuffie back to its rightful owner, who immediately stopped crying, gave me a watery grin, then ran off into the crowd.

  Oh. Ooooohhhhhh. Well, this was embarrassing.

  I slowly turned to look up at the beast of a man, to apologize for rushing in the way I had, but the second my gaze met his, all thoughts disappeared. There, in the depths of chocolate brown staring down at me, I found a connection I’d never expected. A link to another person I knew was possible but had thought I’d missed out on. A tug deep in my gut and a sudden pounding of my heart sent my soul spinning while my brain practically shut down. I could only focus on one thing.

  I’d just met my fated mate in the middle of a farmers market dressed like Snow White.

  I had not been prepared.

  The man, my mate, held my gaze as he bent forward, reaching down between us and retrieving a single blood-red rose. Holding it out to me with a soft smile lifting his lips.

  “I believe this is yours.”

  Oh, that voice. It sent shock waves up my spine.

  “You’re…”

  I couldn’t speak, couldn’t put my thoughts in order. I took the rose from him simply out of instinct, but my mind had scattered and my inner cat had started yowling in my head. I had no room for things like words and making sense. No synapses firing enough to string together syllables and sounds.

  Thankfully, the man seemed to understand my lack of verbal acuity.

  “It’s okay, princess. I know this is shocking. Let’s start at the beginning—I’m Mateo. And you are?” He gave me a gentle smile. Almost as if he were inviting me to speak to him.

  Here goes nothing.

  “Arabella,” I whispered, proud of myself for finding the clarity to give him the right name at least.

  “Beautiful. A name fit for royalty.” He looked me up and down, inching closer. “Truly beautiful.”

  As the market moved on around us, the space between us disappeared, the two of us growing closer without any thought or intention on my part. It was as if we were caught in each other’s orbits, slowly revolving around each other until we crashed together. Oh, and we definitely crashed together. The moment our bodies met, my mind exploded into an array of colors and smoke. Like fireworks behind my eyes, bright sparks flew across my mind, coloring Mateo in reds and blues, bright greens and hot pinks. He was it—my one and only. My gift from the fates. This was fate.

  “Arabella,” he said, moving even closer. Pushed right up against me. “Can I—”

  Sebastian suddenly appeared at my side, jostling me away from Mateo. “That might be the best picture I’ve ever taken in my life.”

  The sound of Mateo growling under his breath distracted me from the camera Sebastian was holding out to me, the abrupt noise of the market invading the silence I’d been living in. Our little bubble of fate popped, so it was back to reality, it seemed.

  “Yes, it’s…” I looked up at Mateo, still unable to think clearly. Unable to find words.

  Thankfully, he seemed to understand my dilemma. “Beautiful. It’s stunningly beautiful.”

  “I’m totally putting this on the wire,” Sebastian said, staring at his camera. “This may be a chance to put Kinship Cove on the map.”

  I had a moment of fear, of cold terror, before Mateo placed a hand on my arm. That touch, the warmth from it, banished all negative sensations. And as Sebastian rushed off, I almost wondered what had bothered me in the first place.

  “So,” Mateo said, leaning in even closer and lowering that sexy voice of his. “May I take you to lunch?”

  I nodded, words still hard. Ready to take the next step toward a future I’d never thought possible.

  With a fated mate.

  “Sure.”

  2

  Arabella

  Mateo seemed to be the sort of old-school gentleman I hadn’t thought existed anymore. He escorted me to the diner, making sure to walk on the street side of the sidewalk. He even opened the door for me, guided me to our table with a hand on my lower back, and pulled out my chair, too. Such small actions that meant so much to me. I truly appreciated him because, even though we were only having lunch at the local diner, he was treating me like a princess.

  Perhaps he was a prince.

  “So,” Mateo said once we were seated. “That’s quite the eye-catching dress.”

  Oh. I’d almost forgotten my costume even as the red fabric danced along my ankles. “I was working the market for the library. This dress catches the kids’ attention.”

  “I’m sure it does. It certainly caught mine.”

  The smile he shot me made my entire body warm. Before I could respond—not that I had any idea what I might say back to that—the waiter appeared to hand us menus and tell us about the specials. I couldn’t focus on him with Mateo there, so I continued to stare at my mate instead. Waiting impatiently for the young man to leave. The second he did and I had Mateo’s full attention again, I relaxed into my seat.

  “You okay?” Mateo asked.

  I nodded, opening the menu as if my heart weren’t beating so loud I had to worry about him hearing it from across the table. “I’m good.”

  “You looked uncomfortable there for a minute.”

  “The idea of having to share your time with others right now makes me anxious. I’m sure it will pass.”

  Mateo stared at me for a solid ten seconds, his face closed off. Emotionless. But then his eyes lit up and his lips began to rise in a slow smile that promised so many wonderful things to come.

  “I hope it doesn’t. What would you like for lunch?”

  I frowned at the menu. “I think I’ll just have the tuna salad stuffed tomato. They have the best Greek pickles here.”

  “And to drink?”

  “Milk, of course.”

  “Let me guess—you’re a cat shifter of some sort.”

  “Of some sort.”

  The waiter returned, making me clam up again. Thankfully, Mateo spoke for both of us, selecting a large salad for himself and glancing my way when he ordered my plate—including extra pickles—and glass of milk. I simply smiled and nodded, happy to have that task handed off to someone else.

  Once the waiter disappeared across the room, I relaxed again. “That is so weird.”

  “It’s territorialism,” he said, looking smug. “You don’t like others being close to me.”

  “Oh.” I stared at my water glass for a moment, pushing down the disappointment trying to claw its way up my throat. “But you don’t feel that way with me.”

  He laughed, loud and long. “Oh, my dear Arabella, no. I absolutely feel that way for you. That waiter is smart. If you noticed, he hasn’t spoken to you directly or even looked your way.”

  I frowned, not understanding. “So?”

  “So…he’s given me no reason to be territorial with you. Now, if he had dared to even give you a smile…” Mateo leaned over his side of the table, a deep rumble coming from his body. “You would definitely have seen my protective side.”

  My neck and cheeks warmed, my entire body suddenly in tune with his. “Oh.”

  “Yes, oh. Relax, princess. I’m just as smitten as you.”

  With that, I did relax. We chatted and laughed with each other, talking recent events and Kinship Cove stories. Our food came, and we spent a good ten minutes on the merits of what made a good pickle. All solid, surface sort of topics.

  I
t was when the questions turned a bit more personal that things got more awkward.

  “Where did you grow up?”

  I froze, unable to breathe. I knew what I was supposed to tell him—the same story I’d been telling people since I moved to Kinship Cove. The lie. That I’d been brought up outside of Atlantic City—a vague enough spot most people brushed off as somewhere they may have been but nowhere they actually knew. I didn’t want to lie to my mate, though.

  “I…uh…Indiana. LaPorte.”

  Not a lie. I’d actually told someone the truth. By the fates, that seemed like a really bad idea, but my truth was now out there.

  “Arabella?”

  I set my hands on the table and frowned. “There are some things I’d rather not talk about just yet.”

  He nodded, looking concerned. “Are you okay?”

  I took a deep breath, trying to focus on the now instead of falling into my memories. “I try to be. Not thinking about that place helps.”

  The look on his face turned raging mad, the fury practically its own pulse in the air. He took a few deep breaths, seemingly ready to fight something that wasn’t even there. I thought for sure he would be jumping to his feet and throwing tables in a second, but instead, he visibly calmed. Another few breaths, these much more soothing in nature, and then he coughed.

  “Sorry about that. I’ve got a bit of a temper. I’ve been working on controlling it.”

  “Let me guess…wolf shifter.”

  He huffed a laugh before taking a sip of his water. “Not even close. Bull.”

  Oh. Oooohhhhh. That explained a lot.

  “So, you’re not kidding when you say you have a temper.” I glanced down at my lap, frowning. “I definitely wore the wrong color today.”

  “You are stunning in red.”

  I blushed again, unable not to. “Thank you.”