Reginald: Fated Mates of Thorne Bay, #9

By K. R. Hall

Reginald Droen grew up playing with the rich and famous families like the Du Pont, Rockefeller, Brown, and Vanderbilt families. When his father tried to force him to marry someone who was not his destined mate, he ran away to the rugged land of Thorne Bay, Alaska giving up his family fortune. Everyone here knows him as Reggie Saunders, though.


Melody Fisher is a freelance journalist trying to make a name for herself. The patriarch of the Droen family is searching for his missing son Reginald and has offered a one-million-dollar reward. After spending the last two years searching, Melody thinks that Reggie Saunders is actually Reginald Droen and has gone to Alaska to get proof.

• Language: English
• Publisher: K. R. Hall
• Release date: Oct 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9798224355211

Book preview

Chapter 1

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I will not marry her! I’m waiting for my fated mate, Reginald snarled.

You will marry whomever I choose. We felt humiliated when you broke it off with Bessie Rockefeller and Bertha Clara von Rothschild. Both suitable women whose family fortunes would combine with ours, making us one of the most influential families in America, William Droen growled.

My mate will be the world itself, and without her, I cannot enjoy simple pleasures. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to keep her safe from harm. She’s out there somewhere, Reginald said, letting out a slow, controlled breath and attempting to loosen the tension.

This is eighteen-hundreds, and my word is law. You will marry Carrie Astor.

A vein began popping in William’s temple, and his fists were tightly clenched. The old man stayed right where he was.

I’m going, and you can’t stop me.

If you leave this house, you will lose your inheritance, William bellowed.

Begging your pardon, sir, the butler said as he stood in the doorway.

Yes? What is it? William asked, irritated.

Would you like your afternoon tea here or on the terrace? the butler asked.

The terrace will be fine, William replied.

Very good, sir, the butler replied before leaving the drawing room.

This conversation is over, William said, before walking away.

Generations of wealthy New Yorkers built their homes, displaying their wealth and power and conveying their class distinction. This display was at its highest point during the Gilded Age of the late 19th century, during the reign of infamous upper-class men Andrew Carnegie, John D. Rockefeller, and William Droen.

Nestled in the woodland was an ornate mansion, with white marble pillars flanking the main door and a dramatic staircase leading up to the other two floors. The floor-to-ceiling windows looked out onto their country estate and covered one-hundred-thirty acres of woodlots, orchards, and pastures. The home’s interior walls, columns, and some floors were covered in marble, and its chandeliers, lamps, and vases were painted in 24-carat gold. Paintings and statues in the styles of the European Old Masters and ancient Greece share space with the Droen coat of arms and Droen family portraits, all signaling that this man believes he has done things that have elevated him above ordinary Americans.

The front and rear parlors that occupied most of the first floor had plaster moldings inspired by the fashionable Greek Revival design. New household technologies like the Droen’s modern bell system, indoor plumbing, and cookstove became status symbols for elites.

The dark wood flooring and cream stucco walls with a distinctive Victorian feel to the drawing room. The marble busts, painted vases, oil paintings, and upholstery combined. Multiple candles illuminate the drawing room with a flickering glow that gives it a touch of magic. A coffee table set with drinks and pastries. The wall unit was home to many unusual knickknacks and figurines representing fantastic beasts.

Reginald’s parents smiled from the old photographs, full of the promise of youth. His mother stands in her wedding dress, still lavish even by today’s standards. Father is the proud man holding the arm of his lovely bride, the sunlight reflecting from his unwrinkled face. Photos of the children in various growing stages hung on walls and over the fireplace mantel.

Reginald had grown up in luxury, and should have known his father by now, but he still couldn’t believe his father had turned his back on him and walked out. They were not done talking. He wasn’t going to marry anyone unless it was his destined mate. Anger rolled off him in waves.

Since he turned eighteen two years ago, he noticed more eligible young women were in attendance at the balls. His father had been pushing him to marry and settle down, but he wanted to explore the world.

Bear shifters were like regular bears; they were usually solitary animals except in family groups or pairs during the mating season. As the head of the family, William was considered their alpha. As the oldest son, Reginald would take over as alpha whenever his father felt it was time to step down. Bear shifters lived to be a thousand years old, so William would most likely remain alpha until he was seven or eight hundred years old. That meant Reginald still had awhile.

Reginald went upstairs to his room. He went into the closet, dropping to his knees, and partially shifted a hand to his bear. His bear claw dug into the floor, pulling up a piece of wood. He quickly shifted his hand back to human form before pulling out the metal box he had hidden.

For the last two years, Reginald had been keeping some money back from the paychecks he handed over to his father. Prying the box open, he pulled out the five thousand dollars and stuffed it into a cloth bag. He stretched the strings and placed the bag around his neck.

Reginald crept down the back stairs the servants used. Upon reaching the ground level, he slowly opened the servant’s door, looking around to ensure he wouldn’t be noticed. Then he shifted into his bear and ran. He crashed through the back gate, taking it off its hinges. Their property backed into the forest, where he could blend in with the other creatures as he continued running away.

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Breakfast the following day was a somber affair after William and Reginald’s previous conversation.

Where is Reginald? Agnes asked.

Reginald is leaving and without his inheritance, William announced.

Agnes covered her mouth, but her gasp was so loud her fingers didn’t stifle it.

He refuses to marry, insisting on waiting for his destined mate. It could be decades before he found her, or never at all. It’s all stuff and nonsense, William explained.

The tension around the table increased as Letitia, Rebecca, Richard, Adam, Paul, and Robert glanced at their father, then diligently returned to eating breakfast without looking away from their plates. They knew better than to catch his eye and draw his attention.

When did he leave? Where did he go? Agnes asked.

He left during tea yesterday afternoon. I don’t know where, and I don’t care. We will never speak of him again. Reginald’s leaving means he’s abandoning the family, his duty to the family business, and rejecting everything we stand for, William announced to everyone at the table.

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A week later, Reginald registered as Reggie Saunders for the logging office in Bangor, Maine. Bear shifters maintained a youthful look until they were mated. Once mated, they slowly showed signs of aging.

In 1840, when fellow loggers began to notice Reggie wasn’t aging as the rest of them, he packed up and moved to Michigan.

He moved on to Wisconsin when steam power was introduced into sawmilling in the 1870s.

Reggie barely escaped the fire in Chisholm, Minnesota, in 1908, and then it was time to move on to Idaho.

When World War I began in April 1914, Reggie joined the 20th Engineer Regiment with other loggers working in the sawmills in France.

Reggie was in Oregon when the Great Depression hit. By 1931, most mills operated at less than half capacity. The World War II economy in the 1940s increased demand and production during a wartime labor shortage.

After the war, Reggie moved on to Washing state, and by the mid-1950s, was in Alaska. In 1970, Reggie first caught a glimpse of Thorne Bay and finally felt like he was home.

Chapter 2

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2004

What ‘cha doing, Melody? Lucy asked as she entered their shared bedroom.

I’m gonna fly like Super Man, Melody said as she pushed the screen out of the windowsill.

Girls can’t fly like Super Man, Dalton said from the doorway.

I can if I want to, Melody called back as she climbed onto the windowsill. Watch me.

Lucy and Dalton ran to the window as four-year-old Melody jumped.

She’s dead! Lucy cried.

Mommy! Mommy! Dalton hollered as he fled the bedroom.

I’m right here, Dalton. What’s wrong? Vera asked.

Melody jumped out of the window. I think she’s dead, Dalton said.

"What? What window did Melody jump out of? Vera asked.

Her bedroom window, Mommy. I tried to stop her. I told her girls couldn’t fly, Dalton said as he followed his mother outside.

Vera saw her four-year-old daughter lying on the ground and rushed to her side.

Don’t move, Melody, Vera ordered as she squatted.

Mommy, my leg hurts.

I imagine it would. It might be broken. Don’t move, sweetheart. I’ll call the base ambulance, Vera said, then pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. This is Commander Fisher’s wife on Stoney Brook Drive. My daughter has fallen, and I need an ambulance. Please tell them to go around to the backyard.

Vera had one of the neighbors watch the other children as she followed the ambulance to the base hospital. An hour later, Melody’s broken leg was in a cast. The family lived in housing provided by RAF Welford, where Commander Maurice Fisher was stationed. Melody was born at the base in 1999 but was an American citizen.

Melody Fisher was an accident-prone daredevil child. When she was six, the family was having dinner in a Mexican restaurant; when she bit into her tostada, the shell cracked, and everything on the shell fell down the front of her shirt.

When they moved back to America, the family was at the airport, Melody’s shoe came untied, and the laces got caught in the escalator. A security guard cut her laces off to free her foot. Luckily, she wasn’t injured, only frightened.

Melody got her tongue stuck in the trumpet’s mouthpiece in the second grade. That summer, she was playing with a group of children in the lot of an abandoned factory. The children were kicking stuff around, and Melody kicked two pieces of wood nailed together and lost her balance. When she stepped down, a rusty nail went into the heel of her right foot. She hobbled home, and Vera took her to the clinic, where she received a tetanus shot.

Melody’s siblings, Sadie, Lucy, Dalton, and Jansen, loved to dare her to do stunts.

I dare you to put one of Dad’s fish hooks in your mouth, Dalton taunted.

Won’t I get hurt? Melody asked.

I’ll do it, Jansen said, pushing her out of the way.

Jansen picked up a single prong hook, laid it on his tongue, and showed the others before closing his mouth. Dalton counted to ten, then Jansen opened his mouth and removed the hook.

Okay, I’ll do it, Melody sighed as she picked up a three-pronged hook.

She placed the hook on her tongue as Jansen had done and showed everyone she wasn’t a coward. She closed her mouth while her brothers counted to ten. Something poked her tongue, making her tear up. When she opened her mouth, her siblings looked upset.

Mommy, Melody has a fishing hook stuck in her tongue! Sadie screamed.

Vera came rushing into the bedroom to scold the children for being in their parent’s bedroom.

You kids know better, Vera began.

Melody turned to the door when she heard her mother’s voice.

What? Vera asked. Melody, child, you’re going to be the death of me. Come on, let’s get you to the base clinic.

Vera took Melody by the hand and headed out the door, stopping briefly to look at the other children.

Clean this mess before your father gets home. You’re old enough to be on your own. I trust you to behave, Vera said before turning back around.

"Melody, I think your medical record is thicker