Cherreads

Her Alpha From A Different Time

Zoe_Vander
When Aurora Gray, an Omega maid, gets rejected and framed for the murder of Alpha Darren Snow by her mate, she thinks her life may just be over. But when she flees and runs into the arms of the look alike of her dead Alpha, a crazy plan begins to form in Aurora's head. A way to clear her name. An identity swap. A dangerous game. The man claims to be Zephyr Snow, Alpha of the Red Moon Pack. He also claims it is the year 1726. Aurora has decided he has a mental illness. A severe one. Possibly the worst case ever recorded. Little does she know that he isn't delusional at all. That Zephyr Snow is exactly who he says he is, an Alpha from three hundred years ago, and they're about to be entangled in more ways than one, considering, Aurora's the only one who can help him find his way back home. *** "What is that?” He was pointing at a car pulling out of the lot. "A car?” I answered, wondering what the hell was wrong with him now. He stared at it and began hyperventilating. “It moves. Without horses. It is a carriage. Without horses.” “Yes, it runs on fuel–” "And those." He pointed at the telephone poles. His voice was shaky. "What are those cords between the poles?" Was he playing a game? I didn't mind if he was, so long as he helped me. "They carry electricity. Power?” "And the lights in the manor." He said it slowly, like a frightened child. "There is no fire. No candles. What feeds them?" "The electricity. The same power.” "None of this was here," he said after a long stretch of silence. His hand had gone clammy against mine. "When I entered those caves. This is not… this was not here.” He looked at me with wide, vulnerable eyes. “Lass, I am not mad.” "I didn't say you were." "You are thinking it." I was absolutely thinking it. "My home.” He pointed at the packhouse. “It stood right there. It is… gone." It struck me then. The anguish in his voice. I realized he truly believed what he was saying. And the conviction only deepened when he met my eyes once more and whispered, "What century have I found myself, lass?” “Er… the 21st?"
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