Bears of Burden: WYATT
Author: Ayers, Candace
Date: 2017-01-13
Publisher: Candace Ayers

Table of Contents

Bears of Burden

WYATT

STORY DESCRIPTION

CHAPTER 1: Georgia

CHAPTER 2: Wyatt

CHAPTER 3: Georgia

CHAPTER 4: Wyatt

CHAPTER 5: Georgia

CHAPTER 6: Wyatt

CHAPTER 7: Georgia

CHAPTER 8: Wyatt

CHAPTER 9: Georgia

CHAPTER 10: Georgia

CHAPTER 11: Wyatt

CHAPTER 12: Georgia

CHAPTER 13: Wyatt

CHAPTER 14: Georgia

CHAPTER 15: Wyatt

CHAPTER 16: Wyatt

CHAPTER 17: Georgia

CHAPTER 18: Wyatt

CHAPTER 19: Georgia

CHAPTER 20: Wyatt

CHAPTER 21: Georgia

CHAPTER 22: Wyatt

CHAPTER 23: Georgia

CHAPTER 24: Wyatt

CHAPTER 25: Georgia

CHAPTER 26: Wyatt

CHAPTER 27: Georgia

CHAPTER 28: Wyatt

ENJOY A FREE SNEAK PEEK

KODIAK ISLAND SHIFTERS

COLTON: BILLIONAIRE BEAR’S BRIDE

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Check out these other books by Candace Ayers

RANCHER BEAR SERIES

BEARS OF BURDEN SERIES

SHIFTERS OF DENVER SERIES

FREE BONUS BOOKS SECTION -   STORY DESCRIPTIONS INCLUDED

GIVEN TO THE VAMPIRES

STORY DESCRIPTION

Chapter 1: Dimitri

Chapter 2: Anna

Chapter 3: Dimitri

Chapter 4: Anna

Chapter 5: Dimitri

Chapter 6: Anna

CLAIMED BY THE NEW ALPHA

STORY DESCRIPTION

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

DRAGON’S CLAIM

STORY DESCRIPTION

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

SHADOW SPECTER

DEPARTMENT 99

STORY DESCRIPTION
part 1

NOWHERE TO HIDE
part 2

CHACHI’S GHOST
part 3

THE DEAD OF NIGHT
part 4

LOVE AT LAST

PUCKED

STORY DESCRIPTION

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

HOLDING

STORY DESCRIPTION

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

TIGHT

STORY DESCRIPTION

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

NATHAN: BILLIONAIRE BEAR

STORY DESCRIPTION

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven

Chapter eight

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter eleven

Chapter twelve

Chapter thirteen

Chapter fourteen

Chapter fifteen

Chapter sixteen

Chapter seventeen

ZAREK

Dragons of Plarizakian

STORY DESCRIPTION

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

OFFICER BEAR

STORY DESCRIPTION

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

THE LION’S CLAIM

STORY DESCRIPTION

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

HOME IS WERE MY BEAR IS

STORY DESCRIPTION

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

MOST VALUABLE PANTHER

STORY DESCRIPTION

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

FULL MOON LOVER

STORY DESCRIPTION

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

EPILOGUE

RANCHER BEAR’S BABY

STORY DESCRIPTION

CHAPTER 1: Elizabeth

CHAPTER 2: Elizabeth

CHAPTER 3: Alex

CHAPTER 4: Alex

CHAPTER 5: Elizabeth

CHAPTER 6: Elizabeth

CHAPTER 7: Alex

CHAPTER 8: Alex

CHAPTER 9: Elizabeth

CHAPTER 10: Elizabeth

CHAPTER 11: Elizabeth

CHAPTER 12: Alex

CHAPTER 13: Elizabeth

CHAPTER 14: Elizabeth

CHAPTER 15: Alex

CHAPTER 16: Elizabeth

CHAPTER 17: Elizabeth

SCREWED

STORY DESCRIPTION

Chapter 1 CLAIRE

Chapter 2 JETT

Chapter 3 CLAIRE

Chapter 4 JETT

Chapter 5 CLAIRE

Chapter 6 CLAIRE

Chapter 7 JETT

Chapter 8 CLAIRE

Chapter 9 JETT

THE VAMPIRE’S MUSE

STORY DESCRIPTION

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

DRAGON KEEPER

STORY DESCRIPTION

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Epilogue

SNOWBOUND WITH THE ALPHA

STORY DESCRIPTION

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

UNINVITED STRANGER

STORY DESCRIPTION

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

MY VALENTINE WOLF

STORY DESCRIPTION

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

Copyright © 2017 by Candace Ayers.

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

This book is intended for adult readers only.

Any sexual activity portrayed in these pages occurs between consenting adults over the age of 18 who are not related by blood.

Bears of Burden
WYATT

By Candace Ayers

Note from the Author:

I am currently recruiting readers for my review team. If you would like to participate by volunteering to read advance copies of my latest books, and leaving an honest review on Amazon, please sign up for my email list here: JOIN NOW! I contact subscribers through email when each book is ready for review. You will be under no obligation, and can accept or decline on a book by book basis.

~ Candace

Copyright © 2017 by Candace Ayers.

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

This book is intended for adult readers only.

Any sexual activity portrayed in these pages occurs between consenting adults over the age of 18 who are not related by blood.

STORY DESCRIPTION

Georgia and Wyatt couldn’t be more opposite.

Wyatt teaches wilderness survival training. A gruff, simple, outdoorsy type, more at home in the woods than in polite society, he’s used to barking orders. In a survival situation, what he says goes, or somebody could get hurt.

Georgia does what she wants, when she wants and she isn’t a long-term relationship type of girl. Men come—men go. Her life is endless parties, fundraisers, shopping sprees and spa days at the salon.

When Georgia signs up for one of Wyatt’s survival weeks, it’s blatantly obvious she is far outside her comfort zone. Everything that can go wrong, does. Why is she so undeniably drawn to the rough Neanderthal caveman when nothing about them fits?

Wyatt is instantly attracted to Georgia, and he knows why. He’s found his mate. But, has fate made a terrible mistake? How will he survive Georgia as a mate when he’s not sure he’ll survive the week?

CHAPTER 1: Georgia

I tapped the screen of my phone and groaned.“One bar.  I have one measly, stinking bar of service.  Is this just a dead zone or something?  It gets better once you get to town, surely?”

The cowboy next to me, driving, grinned.  “No, ma’am.  Not really.”

I held the phone up, like being lifted higher than the car’s open top would suddenly make a difference. “Shit. I’m trying to send an email and nothing’s happening.”

He looked over at me, pushing his cowboy hat up on his head while holding my gaze.  The road stretched on, straight as an arrow, in front of us and he held the car steady.  “We could always find something better to do.”

If I hadn’t been dating bad boys since I was old enough to shave my legs, I suppose I would’ve appreciated the dangerous move.  As it was, the cockiness of it only served to irk me slightly. Somehow, the possibility of ending up splattered on the front of a big rig, like the few that had passed us, just didn’t appeal to me now that I was in my late twenties.  Not that it had in my early twenties, either.

“Keep your eyes on the road and I’ll consider finding something for you to do.”  Lie.  Nothing was going to happen with the cocky cowboy.  He’d already blown his shot.  I couldn’t even pinpoint when exactly it had happened, but one moment I’d been considering him, the next I’d already written him off.  That’s just the way it worked for me.

My email finally went through a half-second before a message from my latest ex popped up.  I didn’t bother to read it before pressing delete, then quickly dialing my best friend.  Allie sure knew how to hide when she decided to run away.  The town I was headed to was barely a hole in the wall.  It sure didn’t matter enough to get its own spot on a map, apparently.  Hence the cowboy driver in a convertible instead of a real taxi service.  It was the best arrangement I could find to take me all the way down to Burden, Texas.

Allie answered on the fourth ring, out of breath.  “Knock it off, I want to get this.”

I rolled my eyes as a low growl sounded from her end of the call and she burst into giggles.  I knew what was happening.  She’d been attached to her new man’s hip since they’d hooked up, and this wasn’t the first call I’d made ‘interrupting’ them.

“Allie, I’m about an hour away.  You think you two can be done by then?”  I couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed at her for answering in the middle of playtime with her big bear-man.  She was in love and I was happy for her. She deserved it.

“She’ll be done and working the bar by then.  Can’t wait to meet you, Georgia.  Bye, now.” Click.

I laughed and slipped my phone back in my purse, content to ride the rest of the way without it.  I’d hastily wrapped a silk scarf around my hair to keep it from beating me to death on the trip, but it wasn’t doing much.  Long strands were whipping around, lashing my face and neck.  I glanced over at the cowboy and noticed that his hair just seemed to blow easily around his forehead. Sexy.

Maybe I’d written him off too soon, I thought as I mentally put him back on the court.  Maybe he was still in the game.

I was tired both from the flight I’d taken and the going away party I’d thrown the night before, but I refused to give in to the urge to sleep.  I’d be seeing Allie very soon for the first time in what felt like forever.  I didn’t want to meet her new man with sleep marks on my face.  If there was one thing my very southern, very belle-ish mom had taught me, it was that first impressions mattered.

“How long are you going to be in town?  Maybe you can look me up on your way back through?”  He side-glanced over at me through hooded lids, his lip caught between his teeth and I had the distinct impression that he’d practiced that look in the mirror several times before perfecting it.

“I’m not sure, actually.  Could be a few weeks or a few days.  It depends how Burden, Texas agrees with me.”

“I can’t imagine anything, or anyone, not agreeing with you, sweetheart.”

I stared at him for longer than it was comfortable for him evidently, because he turned back to the road, eyes straight ahead and steady for once.  I couldn’t help picking him apart.  It was just a thing I did. It was the reason no man lasted longer than a few weeks with me.  I stared too much, had silent debates about them in my head, and just generally analyzed them to pieces until they, or I, ended it.  Usually me.  I seemed to always be looking for something that wasn’t there.  Hell, I didn’t even know what it was that I was looking for.

“Lots of people disagree with me, sweetheart.”  I threw the name back at him.  “How much longer ‘till Burden?”

He glanced back over at me in time to catch the wink I sent his way.  I didn’t want to seem like too much of a bitch.  He could still pull the car over and kick me out, even if I was paying him a hefty sum to drive me.

“Still a good ways off.  Why don’t you lean on back and get comfortable?  I’ll get you there safe and sound.”

I let out a long, audible sigh.  Without my phone, I was as bored as a puppy in a fenced yard without toys.  “Okay.  Just be sure you wake me in time to freshen up before we get to town.  Maybe we can stop at a gas station or something before we get in?”

He laughed like I’d made a funny joke.  “You must be thinking of someplace else.  There’s nothing outside of Burden but more of what you’re seeing right here.”

I looked around. “There’s nothing between us and the town except—land?”

“Not a thing.  The first place we’ll come up on is a bar called The Cave.  I guess you can freshen up in there, if you want.”

I bit off a groan and tipped my head back to look up at the sky.  Looking at the vast, bright blueness of it, I could almost forget that Allie had clearly found a town that was meant to be hidden away.  It was tucked away with nothing around it and hardly any way to get there like a private oasis residents weren’t keen on sharing.

“Just wake me up when you pass the town sign.  I assume there is one of those, right?”

He laughed.  “Of course.  Unless someone got drunk and ripped it down again.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.  Burden, Texas was going to be quite the adventure for this city gal.

CHAPTER 2: Wyatt

Coming down from the mountain always made my bear restless.  Leaving the wilderness to return to a more tamed life made us both a little uncomfortable. Things were better in the wild. As a man or a bear, I could run and swim and do whatever I wanted without any hassles. There were no rules. I’d always found that there were too many rules in town. No shoes, no service. No shirt, no service. No pants, you’re suddenly a criminal.

Hell, I couldn’t even walk barefoot into my Mom’s house without her yelling about it.

It wasn’t entirely my fault that I was more bear than man. Being raised at the base of a mountain and given free reign, I’d always done what I wanted. It wasn’t until I was old enough to begin considering females that Mom started the lecturing. She’d raised me to be the way I was, but she was the first to say I needed to act normal. She wanted a daughter-in-law and cubs to fawn over. Neither of which would happen if I didn’t start showering inside and wearing shirts with buttons, she said.

I focused on the small group of people following me down and gave them each a reassuring nod. I’d known they wouldn’t survive well in the wild. They were too soft. They’d given it a good try, though, and I respected them for that. They all looked rough around the edges, having faced just a little bit of what mother nature and her unyielding terrain could dish out. This group hadn’t had an easy time.

I’ve had groups that surprised me, and groups that left me wondering why the hell I continued to do what I did. Teaching humans to survive in the woods wasn’t exactly a cake walk. They didn’t come with the proper instincts and most weren’t made to last out here. This group had fought, though, and that was impressive in itself.

“Wyatt, are we almost there?  I don’t think I can make it another step.”

I looked back at the younger woman named Sarah. She was pretty and I’d noticed her giving me more than a few steamy glances. I knew the trail we were on well. After the rock formation we’d just passed, there was still another half hour before we reached the bottom. “We’re almost there.  If you don’t think you can make it, I can carry you.”

She gave me a coy smile, “I don’t think I can make it.”

Another job perk. Women sometimes came along on the trip and sometimes I had to play hero and save them. Those same women seemed more than eager to throw their numbers at the man who’d rescued them, and I didn’t see any harm in having a little fun with them. I was healthy and single. I bent over and easily lifted her in a fireman’s carry. She was soft and smelled like flowers, despite having been outside, in the heat, all week long.

As an unmated bear, I chose to enjoy most of the women who came onto me after these trips. I never mixed business with pleasure, so during the trip it was strictly yes, ma’am and no, ma’am, but afterwards, we were all free to do whatever and whomever we wanted.

Sarah’s not so subtle come-ons told me she’d be perfect for a little harmless fun. She’d at least help to take the edge off. I’d been wound tighter than usual since my best friend, Thorn, had bonded with his mate. Seeing Thorn and Allie together, I couldn’t help but feel like I was missing out on something amazing. I wanted what Thorn had stumbled into. Everyone did.

Prospects were few and far between for a guy who spent over half his life in the woods, though. I would just have to settle for quick hook-ups with women like Sarah. Both of us would get happy and then we’d go our separate ways. That was how it worked.

I bit back a sigh. Lately it felt like more and more work. I glanced back at my group and frowned. I wasn’t sure I’d helped any of them.

I led them the rest of the way down to their cars and watched them all leave. Sarah had made up some excuse about organizing her car so she could stay behind and it didn’t take any time at all for us to put my office to use. She was frisky, leaving bite marks and scratches that I hadn’t planned on and didn’t want. I tried to drive out that persistent itch that I couldn’t get rid of through her, but when it was done and I was buckling my pants and helping her up from my desk, it was still there. The hair on the back of my neck was even standing on end and my bear was more on edge than ever.

Sarah left her number on my desk and a lipstick kiss on my neck as she left.  She winked and told me she’d see me soon, but I was so damn distracted by whatever it was that had my bear freaking out that I’m not even sure I told her goodbye.

As soon as Sarah left, I went out behind my office and shifted. I let my bear take over, leading me to whatever had it so worked up. I edged my way through the woods that surrounded the town and took my time, scenting out everything. It didn’t make any sense. I couldn’t smell anything odd. No one had been there who didn’t belong. There was nothing that should’ve been alarming my bear and sending me into such a tailspin.

By the time I hit the back door of The Cave, Thorn’s bar, I was so restless my bear couldn’t maintain control. He gave a mighty roar that turned into a shout as I shifted back to myself.

Thorn came out a second later, glaring. “You trying to give my mate a heart attack? Why are you back here screaming and roaring like someone just cut your damn nuts off?”

I shuddered. “Do you not feel that?”

He frowned at me and shook his head. “Feel what?”

“There’s something in the air. My bear is about to claw my insides to shreds.”

He tipped his head back and took a big breath in. Halfway through, he choked and then laughed. “Wyatt, you smell like you just fucked a flower.  Is that what I’m supposed to be smelling? I could have done without that, thank you very much. Go take a damn shower.”

I nodded, telling myself that it would help. “Sure, sure. I’ll see you later tonight.”

He shook his head and waved me off. “Get it together, man. We’ve got a game later.”

I headed towards the river and tried my best to calm my bear down.  It wouldn’t do any good if I shifted in the middle of the game and mauled someone because I couldn’t remain in control of my bear.

CHAPTER 3: Georgia

“How do I look?” I turned to face the cowboy and did a little spin. I’d woken up a few miles before the Burden sign and touched up my makeup. I’d even hopped in the back and changed from my casual traveling attire to a pretty white sun dress while sexy cowboy kept his eyes on the road—or so he swore.

“Delicious. Let me buy you a drink inside.”

I was standing next to his car outside The Cave, eager to reunite with Allie. I didn’t have time for a drink with the guy, but I didn’t want to be rude either. I pulled the scarf from around my head and gave my hair a toss with my fingers. “Sorry, cowboy. You’ve got to get back to the city and I’ve got a meeting with my bestie inside.”

He frowned and gave a slight eyeroll. “Not interested, huh?”

I walked around the car and leaned down so I could press a kiss against his cheek. “Thank you for the ride. I put an extra couple of twenties in the envelope for you. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

His eyes were down my low-cut dress when I pulled back. “You’ve got my number,” he winked, “Don’t be shy about using it.”

I patted the door of his car and grinned. “That’s one thing I’ve never been called. See you around, cowboy.”

I grabbed my bags and headed inside. From what I could see of the town and bar, they were both laden with a rustic flavor characteristic of the old west. With wide front porches and buildings that looked like they were from the days of stagecoaches and showdowns at high noon, it wasn’t hard to see why Allie had been so drawn to the place.  It had charm, no one could deny that.

I held my phone in my hand and looked down at it as I pushed inside the bar. Charm, but terrible cell reception. I was just sliding my phone back into my purse when a jarring collision sent me sprawling backwards on my ass.

I looked up, ready to spit nails, when I realized I was looking into the face of my best friend. Wow, she looked good. Allie was wiping spilled beer, from the smell of it, off of her chest with a scowl. Just as she looked up to toss out a snide comment, her eyes widened and she screamed.

“Georgia!” Allie dropped to her knees in front of me and smashed me against her chest. “I was so distracted waiting for you to get here I wasn’t watching where I was going! Are you okay?”

I pushed her away gently and looked down at my white dress. “I was.  You’re lucky I love you so much. I just changed into this to show off for you and make a good first impression on the man of your dreams, and look at how you repay me.”

She laughed and tugged at a piece of my hair. “You look great. A sight for sore eyes.”

I looked her over and noticed the subtle changes. Her skin glowed bright with happiness and I could see the edges of the bite mark she’d told me about, the one that let the shifter world around here know that she was Thorn’s. “Holy shit, Allie. You look amazing. I thought you were a little cuckoo to move out to the middle of nowhere, but obviously, this place agrees with you!”

She pulled me up and gave me a proper hug. When she released me, I noticed a huge hulk of a man coming our way. His eyebrows were furrowed like he was worried about something.

“I heard you scream. You okay?”

Allie gazed up at him with a look of what had to be true love in her eyes. I wasn’t sure. I’d never really seen it before, but it sure looked good on her. She stretched up and kissed the man before turning to me. “This is Thorn. Thorn, this is Georgia.”

I smiled up at the man, feeling ridiculously small. I stretched as much as I could, trying to feel a little less vertically challenged. “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

He grinned and wrapped his arm around Allie. “All good, I’m sure.”

“Sure. All good.” I laughed when Allie swatted me. “This is a really nice place.”

“We do alright.” He kissed Allie and then nodded towards the back.  “I’ve got to finish up some work, ladies. Anything you want or need is on the house, Georgia. There’s a football game tonight, too, if you want to stick around the bar. It’s held in the field out back.”

We both watched him leave and then looked at each other with dreamy looks on our faces. It caused us both to erupt in a fit of laughter that had me holding my side.

“You bagged the big one, Allie. That man is beautiful.”

She grinned. “Yeah, he is. His friends are pretty hot, too.” She laughed as a growl came from the back. “Not that I noticed or anything.”

My mouth fell open. “He can hear you from back there?”

She nodded. “It makes it really hard to keep secrets.”

“What secrets?” Thorn shouted from the back.

I laughed and tugged her with me to a booth. I momentarily forget about my bags while the bar was slow, and just focused on enjoying my reunion with my best friend. “So, tell me about his hot friends.”

She shook her head. “Hot, but bad news. They’re not exactly known as being one-woman men. They’re good guys, though.”

“I don’t know. I passed on the chance to do that whole save a horse, ride a cowboy thing earlier. I might be thinking of taking a hiatus or something.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve known you for a long time, Georgia. You’ve never truly taken a break from the opposite sex. Why start now?”

I grimaced. “You heard part of the fighting with that last asshat. I think my taste in men has regressed. It’s worse than ever. They’re all overbearing, difficult to handle, and just not worth the effort.”

“Not all of them.”

I glanced towards the door her man had disappeared through and forced a smile for her benefit. “You’re right. Of course, your guy is worth it.  Way better than that piece of trash, Eric.”

She shuddered and I heard another growl from the back. I couldn’t help but giggle. There was going to be a learning curve, being around these man-bears, it seemed.

CHAPTER 4: Wyatt

I washed off the floral scent, feeling frustrated at myself for some reason. It’s like there was something in the air, but I couldn’t figure it out. Something was making my skin feel too small for my body, and my lungs too weak to deliver the oxygen I needed. I felt my forehead for the hundredth time but there was still no fever. Was I coming down with something? I wouldn’t know. I’d never been sick. My bear was angry too, but damned if I knew why.

Long after I was clean, I stayed in the river, letting the cold water soothe me. I let my bear swim around and catch a fish or two before shifting back and rinsing off again. I kept soap at a spot on the river bank and used it to clean up. My Mom wasn’t a fan of my hygiene methods, but I came out clean enough and that was what mattered.

I let my body air dry as I stretched out on a flat boulder in the sun.  On the outside, the picture of relaxation, inside I was crazy mixed-up. I was losing my mind. After a spell, I managed to get dressed and head back into town. I needed a beer or two to settle the insanity in me. Or maybe sixteen. I sighed and forced my bear down. Thorn had a strict no bears inside the bar rule—one more rule I didn’t care to follow.

I went straight to the bar and waited for Abram, to get to me. When he did, I ordered a double whiskey and shot it straight back.

He stared at me and then at the table where I normally sat with the guys. “Rough day? I’ve never known you to start off the evening with a stiff double shot like that.”

I rolled my shoulders. “Did you ever have a day where it felt like your bear is literally trying to crawl through your pores to get out? I think I’m sick or something.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You think getting shit-faced is the best way to handle that?”

I shrugged. “It’s driving me fucking crazy.”

Thorn came up to us and gave me a strange look. “You okay?”

Abram put the bottle up and rapped his knuckles on the bar top. “Thinks he’s sick.”

“We don’t get sick.”

I groaned. “I know. I don’t know. I just have chills and my bear is freaking out. Something is wrong.”

“Bro, take a deep breath in and chill the fuck out. I can’t have you losing it right now. Allie’s best friend is here and Allie will kill us both if we scare her away.”

As if on cue, the sweetest scent filled my nose and I breathed it in, greedily. Wild berries. The kind you had to know how to identify to avoid eating poison. It was sweet with an edge of something dangerous.

My bear growled, suddenly wanting to fight everyone, but the sick feeling I’d had promptly settled. I straightened and looked around. “What is that?”

Thorn frowned. “What is wha— son of a bitch.”

The aroma was wafting in from the back. I knew for a fact that Thorn had never had anything on the menu that contained the delicious wild berries from the forest behind my house, so it had to be something else. I moved like a man possessed, drawn to the thing I couldn’t identify.

“Fuck, Wyatt, just hang on.” Thorn grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled me to a stop. “You run in there like a fucking bull and you’re going to scare her half to death.”

I froze and looked back at him. “Her?”

He nodded slowly like he was dealing with a five-year-old. “Her. Allie’s friend, Georgia.”

Suddenly if felt as though my bear had taken over my throat and all I could do was utter one word. “Mate.”

CHAPTER 5: Georgia

I took a deep breath and tried to settle my nerves. I wasn’t normally the anxiety-laden type, but something had my nerves on edge. Maybe I was just tired. It had been a long trip, first by plane, then car. “Want to show me to my temporary set-up and help me decide what to wear to this game tonight?”

Allie nodded. “Hey, Brady, will you let Thorn know we’ll be back soon?”

The lanky chef nodded and sent a wink my way. “Y’all have fun.”

I grinned and returned the frisky wink as we headed out the back door. The fresh air helped calm me a little bit and I shrugged off the rest of the uneasy feeling as jetlag. “So, where is this trailer?”

She led me down the street and through a small patch of trees that opened up to a small camper that was tilting slightly to one side. “It was a perfectly fine trailer until Thorn shifted inside. He was a little too heavy for it. We’re getting it fixed, don’t worry.”

I shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”

I stepped inside the trailer and laughed at the sloping floor with a dent in the middle. The back room was fine, though, so I went straight to tossing clothes around the bed.  “What should we go for? Something more casual?”

She laughed at the dress I was holding up. “It’s a football game, G.  Just wear jeans and a hoodie.”

I scoffed. “It’s not just any football game. It’s my first impression on this town. You said everyone would be there. I want to look good. Do you like this dress?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

I tossed it aside and grabbed the next one. “Is this one better?”

She let out a small laugh and fell onto the bed, rumpling more clothes. “I missed you.”

I stretched out beside her and grabbed her hand. “I missed you, too. I was mad at you at first for just up and leaving me like that, but I get it now.”

She rolled to her side and looked at me. “Do you?”

I nodded, straight faced. “Yeah. It’s the bad cell reception.”

She snorted and slapped my arm. “You’ll never make it here for longer than a week. That bad cell reception and the lack of any all-night parties will have you running back to the city in no time.”

I looked up at the emergency exit over our heads. Something settled deep in my bones and I smiled. “I’m not so sure.”

*

Bright sunlight filled the little trailer. I sat up, feeling fresh and a little bit like Snow White with the sounds of birds chirping outside the window over the bed. I looked around and noticed that all my clothes had either been hung in the small closet or folded and left sitting on the shelf next to the door. Allie.

I smiled and stood up, stretching before heading into the kitchen. I needed to grab a coffee but there was nothing there. I groaned. I’d meant to pick up some coffee before coming back from the game.

My head cleared and I gasped. I’d slept straight through the game! I’d slept through my first night with Allie. Some best friend I was. I headed to the little shower, planning to get dressed and find her as soon as possible.  Hopefully, she’d forgive me for being a turdball and passing out on her.

After showering, I chose a green cotton dress that brought out the color in my eyes and twirled my still wet hair up in a bun, pinning it into place before hurrying through my makeup. Then, I slipped my feet into a pair of strappy sandals and headed out.

I had no idea where to find Allie, but I figured with a town center the size of a postage stamp, no way could it be that hard. I’d take a walk around town; someone would know her.

I passed a salon and peeked inside to see a couple of women getting their hair done. A pretty blonde nodded at me and waved me inside. I stepped in, taking a deep breath of salon quality products. Ahhh. It was relieving to know that no matter how far I got from home, a salon still smelled like a salon.

“Hey there! You must be Georgia. Allie’s told us you were coming for a visit!” Another blonde appeared from behind an older woman getting her hair permed. “I’m Randi and that’s Samantha.”

“Nice to meet y’all,” I nodded. Over at the counter, there was a display of nail polish colors. My eyes danced over all the colors and then down at the peach color on my own nails. “Do you take walk-ins?”

Randi smiled, and waved a curling iron at me. “Honey, we take anything. You want us to do something for you?”

I was in heaven. “I have to go find Allie right now, but I’ll definitely be back.”

Samantha grinned. “She’s staying at Thorn’s place. Just head on down Main Street and you can’t miss it. It’s the green house on the right.  Only green house in town.”

I thanked them, and then headed on down Main Street. I was surprised that I hadn’t stumbled across a coffee shop. There was a small grocery store with a few vending machines out front, one of which sold instant coffee. Oh, well, it would have to do in a pinch. First, I stepped inside and bought a bag of donuts.

On the way out, pinned to the community bulletin board, was a flyer for a local survivalist tour and training. My fingers tingled when I touched it and I had the insane urge to sniff it. Wyatt Drexel. I whispered the name and had the same weird feeling from the night before, like there was something hanging over my head, waiting to fall.

I held the flyer tight to my stomach, and hurried off towards the green house. I suddenly had this wacky idea in my head and it was all I could do not to run straight to Thorn’s to tell Allie about it.

Saying the green house was just right down the road was an understatement. The local shops and offices stopped, the road became dirt and dust with forest on either side, and then, finally, a green house appeared. Allie was just coming down the front steps, a bag in her hands as I headed up the drive.

“Hey! You’re awake!” She gave me a big hug and then pulled back. “I was bringing you breakfast.”

I held up the bag of donuts. “I was bringing you breakfast. Where’s the coffee shop around here? I didn’t see one but there’s got to be one, right?”

She laughed. “You’re out of luck. Come on, I’ll make us a pot inside.”

She showed me into Thorn’s house and got the coffee going while I sat at the kitchen counter enjoying the breakfast she’d made for me. She happily munched on a donut and told me about the football games the night before.

“Of course, Thorn’s team won. They always do. They kick ass.” Her smile turned sly. “Apparently, one of the guys was hoping for a chance to meet you last night.”

“Oh, yeah?”

She nodded. “Wyatt Drexel. He owns a survivalist tour company.  Takes tours up the mountain pretty much every week.”

I held up the flier that was still clutched in my fist. “I picked it up at the grocery store. I was thinking it might be fun to ‘do as the Romans do’ and all.”

Her eyes widened slightly and then she shoved a donut in her mouth quickly. She said something but her words were all garbled.

“What? Why are you being so weird?”

“Umm… that could be fun... for some. You’ve never been the type to go all wilderness, though. What’s gotten into you?”

I shrugged. “Just a whim, I guess. I want to experience this place and what it’s like here. You know, with the bears and stuff. Why not get in touch with my outdoorsy, back-to-nature side?”

“Because you don’t have one?”

I grinned. “I’ll prove you wrong. What do you do on a survivalist tour, anyway? It’s like going camping or something, right?”

Allie shrugged and shoved another donut into her mouth without answering me.

I shook my head and finished my coffee.  “This place has got you acting weirder and weirder.”

CHAPTER 6: Wyatt

Normally, I was a patient man, laid back, took things easy.  There was no trace of normal Wyatt today. I’d waited all night at the game to finally meet the sweet-smelling Georgia. My mate. My bear had done a fucking happy dance when he realized what he was smelling. All the tension and anger left and we eagerly waited for our mate to show up.

When Allie had arrived alone, I’d been ready to tear through the town looking for her. I needed to meet her. I’d had no choice but to accept that I would have to wait a little longer, though. I couldn’t do anything about that. The sense of urgency around seeing her was driving me insane. I missed my serenity.

I’d even somehow managed to wake up bright and early after drinking myself into a stupor the night before. I told myself I was going to the bar because I needed to talk to Thorn, but I knew good and well I had nothing to say to Thorn. I just needed to see my mate.

Of course, Thorn had apparently picked that day to sleep in. I considered sitting on the front porch and waiting for him to show up, but decided that would make me look like a creeper. I swore and headed back to my office. Since when did I care how anything made me look?

My phone rang as I was coming through my office door. It still smelled like flowers, which slightly disgusted me after experiencing the delicious aroma of my mate. As I answered the phone, I dug around in the metal cabinet in the small back room for some Lysol.

“Hello?”

“Hi. Is this Wyatt Drexel?” A light giggle sounded and then a muffled whisper. “I was just wanting to get in touch with someone about the survival tour this week.”

My heart kicked up its pace and I swallowed hard. “This is Wyatt.  What can I do for you?”

“This is Georgia Prescott. I’m Allie’s friend.” She hesitated for a second and then continued. “Do you have room for two more this week?”

My throat turned to a desert. I coughed to clear it, but I still sounded rough as hell when I spoke. “Sure… yeah, absolutely…  I have the space.”

There was some more muffled whispering followed by the sound of skin slapping skin. I could hear Allie curse in the background and then another slap. “Sorry about that…  apparently, Allie is too busy to attend this week. I guess I’ll just need a reservation for one.”

Suddenly my heart was banging against my chest so hard it felt like it might break itself free. My dick hardened, and I couldn’t contain the low groan that escaped my mouth.

“Wyatt?”

“Space for one. Gotcha.” I didn’t want to get off the phone with her, but I didn’t know what else to say. This kind of thing wasn’t my strong suit. “I’ll be at Thorn’s bar tonight if you want to talk about the trip or anything…”

“Maybe.”

I almost laughed. “Maybe?”

She sighed. “This is a very big town and I’m a very busy woman, Mr. Drexel. I’ll see if I can pencil you in.”

I did laugh then. “Of course. I should’ve guessed you’d have your social calendar full. What with the myriad of offerings here in Burden. There’s the grocery store, the salon, the churches, and the bowling alley.”

Her laughter turned husky and I could almost feel her pulse racing through the line. “Don’t forget about all of my suitors. I’m a lonely girl in a town full of seemingly strapping men.”

I growled and didn’t try to hide it. “None of them are strapping, I can assure you. They’re all terrible.”

“All of them, but you?” Her voice had gone quiet and I knew she was feeling the insane attraction the same as I was, without either of us ever having seen the other.

“All of them but me.”

“Maybe I’ll see you there.”

My bear wanted me to beg. I wouldn’t, though. Not yet. “If I’m lucky.”

She said a quick goodbye and then she was gone.

I blew out a rough breath and shook my head. I was done for. Her voice alone had me craving her. I didn’t think it was possible to survive a face to face encounter. I forced myself to sit at my desk and get some work done. I had to do something, anything to distract myself.

*

I sat at my usual seat at our table in The Cave, my eyes glued to the door. Allie had come in an hour earlier but Georgia still hadn’t shown.

“You’re starting to breathe heavily and everything, brother.” Thorn had resorted to taunting me, while our buddies Hutch and Sterling, just laughed, egging him on.

“Did I make fun of you like this when you were miserable over Allie?”

“Yes, you fucking did. I wanted to rip your head off.”

I sat back in my chair and let it balance on two legs. My bear was restless as shit waiting to see our mate.

Allie stopped by the table and poured me a shot of whiskey. “You okay, Wyatt?”

I let the chair down and nodded. “Sure.”

She made a face at me but it was lost because at that moment the door opened and that delicious, irresistible fragrance floated over me again.

I turned, a low growl in my chest that sounded damn near like a purring kitten. Gliding towards me was the sexiest woman I’d ever lain eyes on.

Generous curves stretched a mouthwateringly tight black dress that was more straps than anything. Heels higher than I’d ever seen gave an alluring sway to her walk as long auburn curls streaked with highlights hung down her back and bounced as she walked. Most heart-stopping of all were the pair of large, bright green eyes locked onto me.

My blood pulsed, my dick thickened and grew, straining to break free of my pants, and it was all I could do not to tackle her to the floor of the bar and mark her right then and there.

I knew I would be attracted to my mate, that’s how it was supposed to work, but the idea I had in my head paled in comparison to the reality. With her smooth skin, sweet scent, gorgeous eyes, never could there have existed a woman more beautiful. Never could there have existed a woman who even came close.

CHAPTER 7: Georgia

Holy crap-oly. How was I supposed to walk? I quickly looked down at my feet and chanted to myself. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot again. Left foot again. There you go. Now, pick your head up.

Except, looking up made me forget how to walk again. The man sitting next to Thorn was drop-dead gorgeous. Enough so, that I was tempted to brush my fingers under my lips to make sure I wasn’t drooling down my chin.

As I moved closer in the dimly lit place, his face came into clearer focus. I swallowed hard. He didn’t look a thing like any of the Ken-doll types I usually dated. He wasn’t elegantly attired, well-kept, or even clean shaven. This guy looked like he could eat Ken dolls for breakfast.

A wide, strong jaw and thin lips surrounded by a full beard contrasted with the thick, soft eyelashes surrounding his deep brown eyes. His hair was messy and slightly too long. It curled in every direction, like he’d been running his fingers through it. It was sun kissed, matching his tanned skin. A worn T-shirt stretched to cover his wide shoulders, clinging to his obviously defined chest and abs.

I stumbled and caught myself on the back of another guy’s chair. I didn’t bother looking at him as I apologized, just straightened my shoulders and continued the rest of the way to the table.

Allie slipped her arm around my waist and grinned. “Guys, this is my best friend, Georgia.  Georgia, these are the guys. You know Thorn, that’s Hutch, Sterling, and Wyatt.”

Wyatt. I’d been hoping Mr. Drop-dead gorgeous would turn out to be Wyatt, the guy I’d spoken to on the phone. His voice had been as deep as the ocean and it had sent tentacles of pleasure coursing through my body. I was eager to cozy up to him tonight and hear more of his velvet voice.

I kept my eyes on him, and shot him a smile. “Looks like you got lucky.”

I was surprised my dress didn’t disintegrate the way his eyes burned into me. He stood up and held the back of his chair. “Not yet. You want to sit down?”

I felt myself swaying in his direction, and clung to Allie’s side. “I’m going to run to the little girl’s room. Be right back.”

Allie laughed and let me tug her away from the table full of men.  I realized that the other guys had been staring at us, but I didn’t care.

“Bathroom. Now,” I hissed.

She pulled me in the opposite direction and into a small bathroom. I locked the door behind us and leaned on it.

“What. The hell. Was that?”

She smiled smugly and raised her eyebrows. “I know something you don’t know.”

I glared at her, the singsong way she said it grated on my nerves.  “Tell me or I’m shoving your head into a toilet.”

“Pfft! Like you could. I’m bigger than you.”

“You’re taller than me. There’s a difference.” I flexed. “I could take you.”

She rolled her eyes. “So, last night, Wyatt smelled you, and...”

I made a face. “He smelled me?”

“Yeah, like how Thorn smelled me.”

I thought back to the things she’d told me and frowned. “But, he was wildly attracted to your scent because you’re his mate.”

Allie cocked her hip out and waited.

When it hit me, I gasped and smacked her in the shoulder. “Shut up!”

She winced and rubbed her shoulder. “Dang, you hit like a man.”

I was in complete shock. I bent over the sink and tried to even out my breathing. “A mate?  That’s not happening.”

“It’s not a bad thing, G. It’s good. Really good.”

“I don’t know him at all. How can he be my mate? Oh, fuck. Is he going to want to bite me tonight? I’m not ready for this.” I clutched at my stomach trying to keep from losing my lunch. I felt myself sway on my feet. This couldn’t be happening.

She grasped both my upper arms in her hands and shook me slightly. “Calm yourself, Georgia. You look like you’re going to be sick. I’ll tell you what, let’s go back to my place and we can talk about this. It’s not a bad thing, promise.”

Bad thing? It felt like the worst thing. When he was just a sexy man, that was one thing. A mate? That was like…like… a marriage. I wasn’t anywhere near ready for something that serious. I was starting to sweat. “Yeah, let’s get out of here. That sounds like a plan.”

“Can you try to act normal as we walk out? I don’t want him to know that I told you. Wyatt’s a good guy and it would hurt him to know that you’re running from him over this.”

The idea of caring what Wyatt, or any other man thought felt like a ball and chain around my ankle. “Why should I care about that? Jesus, this is the worst. Okay, let’s go. Can you snatch a bottle of liquor on the way out?”

She grinned and nodded. “I wouldn’t be your best friend if I couldn’t.”

We walked back out and I stood on the opposite side of the table from Wyatt as Allie grabbed a bottle. Even though I refused to look at him, I could feel his eyes boring into me and my body reacted as if he was stroking his large hands all over me. My nipples hardened to tight little buds and my panties grew damp with arousal.

Wyatt’s beer bottle shattered in his hand as he tipped his head back slightly and took a deep breath in. When he opened his eyes again, they were glowing.

I knew what that meant. Allie told me all about their shifting ways. It should’ve scared me that he was reacting like that to me, but instead, I had an almost irresistible urge to dive across the table and settle onto his lap. My body, the little hussy, demanded I offer myself to him immediately.

“Georgia?”

I shook myself and looked down at Thorn. “Huh?”

He laughed. “I asked if you were sure you wanted to do the survivalist week with Wyatt. It’s pretty rough.”

I looked back at Wyatt, which was a mistake, because I suddenly went stupid again. “Um…  I’m ready for it. I’m sure I can handle him. It. I’m sure I can handle it.”

Allie snorted from behind me. “Smooth.”

I cleared my throat and looked at everyone else, careful to avoid Wyatt. “We’re leaving now. We’re going to have a girl-party. Nice to meet everyone.”

Wyatt stood up and was coming around the table, a determined look on his face, but I was faster.

I dragged Allie away before she could even kiss Thorn goodbye.  “Bye!”

CHAPTER 8: Wyatt

I watched my little mate run away and emitted a long, slow growl. She wanted me. I could smell her arousal. I didn’t get why she was running away.

Thorn shook his head and thumped his beer down. He obviously agreed with my thoughts. “This isn’t working. She just stole my woman and my damn waitress.”

Sterling stood up and stretched. “She’s a hot piece of ass, Wyatt, but she’s got trouble written all over her.”

I shoved him backwards a few steps. “Careful.”

He grinned at me and then turned to the dancefloor. “I’m going to be careful. I’m going to go out there and find a nice, easy, sweet beauty to take home. Someone not-high-maintenance who isn’t going to hand me my ass before I get a piece of hers.”

I wanted to hit him but, despite his complete lack of class, I wondered how much of what he was saying was true. Georgia did look like trouble.  I wanted her like I’d never wanted a woman before, but I could still see trouble.

Thorn slapped me on the back and headed towards the bar. “Good luck, man. You’re going to need it.”

I stared at the door she’d disappeared through. Fuck. I knew, without a doubt, that my life had just gotten a whole lot messier.

*

The rest of the weekend dragged. I smelled Georgia in the wind a hundred different times, drifting from spots she’d just been. It was like she knew I was coming her way and ran just before I got there. It was pure fucking torture.

By the time Monday morning came, I was ready to tear my hair out.  My bear was just as agitated as I was. He didn’t like feeling toyed with any more than I did. By that point, I’d pretty much given up any hope that she’d show up for the tour. I’d accepted that I was going to spend the week in the woods without her. It wasn’t my first choice, but not having the teaser of smelling her constantly dangling in front of me would be a welcome reprieve.

When she showed up, wearing a flirty little pair of shorts that looked soft enough to cradle a cub and a skimpy top that fell off her shoulders, I cussed out loud.  She was dragging a rolling suitcase behind her and wearing flip flops.

She looked around at the group of people who’d gathered for the tour and her face twisted. She looked down at herself and then back at them.  “Well, shoot.”

I laughed before I could help it and ambled over. “Allie and Thorn didn’t mention that you might need some different gear for this?”

She looked up at me and tugged her bottom lip into her mouth. When she released it, there were tiny teeth marks indenting it. “No, they didn’t.  I’m not dressed right. I don’t even have one of those bag things.”

“A knapsack?”

She grabbed a strand of her hair and tugged at it. “I think I’m just going to head home.”

I reached out and lightly squeezed her shoulder. Ignoring the tingling that started in my fingers and traveled up my arm, I shook my head.  “You’re here now. Come into my office and I’ll see if I have anything you can use.”

She surprised me by following me in. She looked around and frowned. “I probably should go home. I decided to do this without thinking first. I’m a city girl.”

I found an extra knapsack under my desk and tossed it to her.  I wasn’t taking no for an answer. “Put your clothes in there. I should have a few extra things you’ll need.”

“Are you listening to me?”

I stopped and turned to face her.  She was a tiny thing, at least a foot and a half shorter than me in her flip flops. And beautiful. I couldn’t help the places my brain went when she looked at me with her hands on her hips and her lip sticking out in a pout. “I’m listening. I’m just not letting you run back home. You wanted to do this for a reason. So, let’s do it.”

Her cheeks flushed and she took a step back, right into a pile of gear I’d been meaning to clean up for weeks. Her arms windmilled as she lost her footing and toppled backwards.

I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her, keeping her from cracking her head open. “Whoah, there.”

She glanced up, eyes heavy. “You’re fast.”

Her eyes were flecked with gold. They were wide and full of wonder as they stared at me. Her plump mouth was slightly parted and I could smell strawberries on her breath. I pulled her tighter against my chest, savoring the feel of her in my arms.

“Wyatt?  I wanted to surprise-”

At the sound of a woman’s voice, Georgia pushed me away from her and stepped way out of my reach. “Better get my stuff switched over.”

“Stay. I’ve got to give you a few tools.”

“Looks like one big one in particular.”

I looked over and blinked at the woman in the doorway. It took me a second, a second too long, to place her. In that second, she’d sidled up to me and waved a tin pie pan under my nose.

“I made you a wild berry pie from those berries I picked last week.”  Sarah, the floral scented woman from my desk, smiled at me before darting a frustrated look Georgia’s way.

I could’ve slapped myself stupid. The last thing I wanted was Georgia getting the wrong idea. I’d been a careless idiot for sleeping with Sarah, but there wasn’t anything I could do to change it now. “Thanks for the pie. We can all share it after dinner tonight.”

She frowned but didn’t argue with me.

Georgia, on the other hand, wasn’t as magnanimous. She’d lugged the knapsack out of the office and was outside, already shoving clothes into it when I walked out. I watched her. Everything she was switching over looked pink or frilly or too sexy. “Did you pack anything warm?”

She sent me a slight glare and then looked over at Sarah. “If it gets too cold, I’m sure I can just follow your lead and find a snuggle buddy to warm up with.”

I noticed the men around us for the first time and let out a low growl.  If any of them tried to warm up my mate, I’d tear their arms clean off. “You need a jacket.”

She tugged a pathetic looking sweater out of her suitcase and held it up proudly. “Does this pass inspection?”

Her attitude set me on edge because I knew that she was going to be freezing when the sun went down. As much as her sassiness made my blood boil, it also hardened my dick to steel. I wanted to grab her and yank her over my knee. “Nope.”

Her eyes narrowed and then she looked over at Sarah again. “When did y’all meet?”

I didn’t trust the drippy sweetness in her voice. I doubted there was anything anywhere near that sweet in my little mate.  She was proving to be a fiery one.

Sarah looked up at me and licked her lips. “Not too long ago. Long enough, though.”

Georgia straightened and sent a grin towards her. “He’s good, isn’t he?  Must’ve been even better with you. Good enough for a pie, at least.”

CHAPTER 9: Georgia

What the hell was I doing?  I’d somehow lost my damn mind. I should’ve been heading back towards that crooked little trailer with the dented floor and crawling back into bed. I didn’t belong on some nature hike trip. I belonged in the salon with matching highlighted blondes, gossiping about the local men. Yet, there I was, sinking my claws into Wyatt so the woman with the pie would get lost.

Jealousy had reared its ugly head and I was imagining shoving her off a cliff. Instead, I focused on my current task. Shoving all of my cute outfits into a giant, hideous knapsack.

The three of us were gathering the others’ attention. I glanced around at them and noticed several men and even a couple of older women staring.

“You two? When?” The woman sounded pissed and I hoped she’d just leave. Then, maybe I would be able to relax enough to leave, too.

Wyatt started to talk but I spoke over him. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’s nothing as serious as y’all.”

“I wasn’t worried.”

“Perfect.”

“Good.”

“Okay. Is everyone ready?” Wyatt’s eyes were glued to me.

I finished shoving my clothes in the knapsack and then unzipped the front to shove in my other shoes and toiletries. I was instantly pissed at myself for playing the jealous woman. I’d shown my cards to Wyatt. He knew I was jealous and that pissed me off even more.

I looked down at my bag and crossed my arms under my chest. I thought about just going back home. The pie woman could have Wyatt. I didn’t need a mate. I sure as hell didn’t want one.

Wyatt clasped my elbow and held it as he talked to the group. “I’ve got to get a few last-minute things. Why don’t you all head up the trail? Sarah can lead the way. Stop at the bridge and wait for us.”

Sarah, the awful pie woman, stroked Wyatt’s arm and smiled. “We’ll be waiting for you.”

I watched as the group marched away from us and then turned to Wyatt. “I’m not going. This was a stupid idea.”

He grabbed my other elbow and jerked me into his chest. “You’re going.”

I started to argue, but he had to go and kiss me. It quieted my argument, for sure. His lips were warm and firm, his beard tickly. It was a simple kiss, just a pressing of his mouth against mine, but my heart was racing. My body responded like a raging wild fire. I grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled myself closer.

His big hands cupped my ass and squeezed until I gasped. When I did, he slipped his tongue into my mouth and I moaned into the kiss. A growl rattled his chest and I was shocked into a moment of clarity. Just enough of one to pull away from him.

“Don’t you dare kiss me again.” I took several steps back.

Wyatt glared at me. “It couldn’t be easy, could it?”

I nodded my head in the direction the group had gone. “Seemed pretty easy with wild berry pie girl.”

“You always get this jealous with men you just met?”

I gritted my teeth and grabbed the knapsack. “Have fun on your little trip.”

“Where do you think you’re headed?”

“Home. Maybe even back to the East coast. Just so long as I don’t have to see you again.”

He grabbed my bag and threw it over his shoulder. “You’re going.”

I yanked at it, uselessly. “I am not going. Don’t think you can boss me around just because you’re my-”

He snapped his head around to me so fast that I was surprised he didn’t get whiplash. “Your what?”

I swallowed. “My guide. Tour boss. Whatever!”

“Tour boss?”

“Just give me my clothes back. They’re the only ones I brought with me. You can go on with your little nature group and I’ll go back and get drunk at the bar. It’s a perfect compromise.”

He grabbed another pack and threw it over his other shoulder. It was about the size of me. “You come with me or you say goodbye to your clothes.”

I stomped my foot. “Wyatt, I don’t want to.”

A boyish grin tilted his mouth and his eyes turned soft. “Come on, sugar. I’ll make it worth your while.”

I should’ve kicked his knees out from under him. I should’ve snatched my stuff and ran while I could. Instead, I crossed my arms and trailed behind him. “I’m only coming so you don’t give my clothes to Sarah.”

“I wouldn’t think of it.” He glanced back at me. “Keep up. I’d hate to lose you up here.”

I stuck my tongue out at his back and stepped over a fallen branch.  “Don’t you clean up the trail? That could hurt someone.”

“I’m afraid you don’t know what a survivalist is.”

I had no clue. I mean, I knew, in theory, but I didn’t know what they’d do out in the Texas woods for a week. Hike up a trail, camp out, and then come home. Seemed easy enough. As I edged to the side of Wyatt’s wide back to look ahead, I gulped. The trail seemed to go straight up and I couldn’t see an end in sight.

“Where is everyone?  Did they finish without us?”

He laughed. “No. They haven’t even started yet. They’re just up around that curve there.”

“That’s just the beginning?”

“Yep.”

I was a dead woman. I needed to just chalk this up as a loss and leave.  Who needed a mate? Sarah could have him.

Then, he turned and smiled at me and I was done for. I followed him like the idiot I was.

CHAPTER 10: Georgia

I followed the pig-headed man up a damn mountain—a literal mountain. I didn’t know how I’d made it. In flip flops, I’d hiked up rocky terrain, hopped across a small river on slippery rocks, and even climbed up a rock face only to get to—more mountain. I was already sunburned, scratched, bruised, and damp from where I’d slipped on the rocks and fallen into the river. Not to mention my massively bruised ego. Sarah had been there the whole time to enjoy herself by laughing at me.

Luckily, one of the other women, Martha, had come to my rescue.  She planted herself at my side and graciously helped me along.  We’d become fast friends when she helped me to pee in the woods for the first time.

Wyatt was never too far off. He’d helped me up each time I fell and stayed away from Sarah, but I was still pissed at him for making me climb a mountain. Some mate he was. Allie had gone on and on about how mates protect each other, yadda, yadda. Wyatt clearly hadn’t gotten the “mate protocol” memo.

Once we reached the top of the mountain, he’d tasked us all with finding a suitable campsite for the night. When I noticed the setting sun, a feeling of panic set over me. Everyone scattered and started putting together collections of leaves and sticks.  I looked around and held my hands out.  Where were the tents?  Where were the sleeping bags?

Martha tugged on my hand and pulled me with her. “Come on. You don’t want to be the last one to find a place. We could get stuck next to the shit hole.”

I made a screeching sound. “What?!”

She laughed. “I’m kidding. There are plenty of places. This is a big mountain.”

“And the shit hole?”

She winced. “That part is, unfortunately, a reality.”

“Oh, god.”

She led me into the woods and pointed out different things.  “That’s an insect nest. You don’t want that branch. And that, up there?”

I looked up at the trees above us. “What about it?”

She pointed to one spot where a branch was broken and only hanging on by a bit of bark. “That’s called a widow maker. You don’t want to sleep under that accident-in-waiting.”

I trailed behind her, slapping at things as I went. It felt like bugs were crawling all over me. “How do you know so much?”

“I’ve been doing this for a long time. My late husband got me into it and I’ve continued to do it a couple of times a year.”

She stopped against another rock wall and nodded. “Here’s a good spot for you. You’ll only need to lean some branches against the wall and rest some heavy leaves against it. It’ll be an easy set-up. I’ll be just farther up the slope there, if you need anything. Don’t stress, Georgia. Have fun with it.”

I watched as she trotted off, and groaned.  How the hell was I supposed to have fun when it was very probable that I was going to get myself killed?  I kicked at a rock.  Stupid Wyatt had gotten me into this and he wasn’t even around to help me. I groaned and looked around. I guessed it was time to start finding some branches.

*

As soon as the sun set, the temperature dropped significantly. I dug through my bag and pulled on my sweater, but it wasn’t much help. I was leaning against the side of the mountain, shivering, when I heard a rustle of leaves. I let out a healthy scream.

Wyatt appeared, alarm on his face. “Georgia?”

I held my hand over my heart panting, “You scared the hell out of me!”

He shook his head when he saw me. “Jesus, you’re going to die out here.”

I pulled myself up and stumbled a bit when my ice-cold feet didn’t want to work. “I know!  That’s why I wanted to go back home. You didn’t let me and now I’m going to die—because of you.”

He shrugged out of his jacket and slipped it around my shoulders.  “Hold on.”

I gasped when he effortlessly threw me over his shoulder and carried me away. “Please tell me you’re taking me back down the mountain.”

“Nope. I’m carrying you to my pack so I can dress you in some pants and socks.”

I was almost too cold to appreciate the view of his backside. Almost.  “I’d rather you carry me back down this mountain and deposit me inside my toasty trailer.”

He carried me silently for a while and then let me slide down the front of his muscled chest. He knelt in front of me and grabbed stuff from his knapsack. “Lift up your foot,” he stroked his hand over my ankle.

“Do you ever ask instead of just barking orders at people?”

He looked up at me and frowned. “Lift your foot, Georgia. Now.”

When I still didn’t move, he grabbed my thighs and lifted me into the air. I screamed at the sudden falling-off of the ground beneath me then found myself sitting in front of him. I gave him what I hoped was my pissiest glare as he slid a pair of too-large sweatpants on my legs, and I tried to wiggle away as he tugged first one sock and then the other on my feet.

“Georgia!”

I snatched my foot away. “I’m ticklish!”

He grabbed my hips and yanked me forward until I was right in front of him on the ground. “I’m sorry. I should’ve checked on you sooner. Sarah slipped and sprained her ankle so I was helping her.”

I wanted to hiss at him… or claw his eyes… or something. He’d been helping her instead of me.  I turned my head away from him and pretended to inspect my nails. “Whatever. I didn’t need you. I was just about to get up and build a fire and everything. You can go back to Sarah now, if you want.”

He caught my chin in his fingers and turned my face to his. “You’re pouting.”

“I am not.”

His thumb raked over my lower lip and I realized I’d been poking it out. “You are. It’s cute. I’m going to say this again, so you hear me. I should’ve come to you first. I’m sorry.”

I tried to scoot away from him, the moment suddenly too intense for me. He wouldn’t let me, though. “Wyatt!”

“Georgia?”

I smacked his hand and scooted back until I was just out of his reach.  “Are you going to take me back to my shelter?”

“Not a chance. I looked at your shelter. It’s barely two leaves strewn over a twig. That thing wouldn’t provide shelter for a squirrel.” He stood up and pulled me to my feet. “You can stay in mine. It’s big enough.”

I looked back at the twig tent he’d put together and frowned. “It doesn’t look any better than mine.”

“You’re trying to hurt my feelings, now.”

I laughed, despite trying not to. “Shut up.”

“Come on. We’re going to have a little cook out at the main fire.  Tomorrow things get serious, but tonight, we’ll all eat together.”

“Things aren’t serious yet?”

He chuckled, the sound sending tingles straight to my core. “Not even a little bit.”

I frowned. “I don’t think I can do this, Wyatt. I shouldn’t have come here.”

He tossed me over his shoulder again. “You can do it. You have a partner now. You’re stuck with me for the week, sugar, whether you like it or not.”

I grumbled, but it wasn’t real. I was glad to have him close by. The woods were starting to terrify me and knowing I had someone as strong as Wyatt, someone who could turn into a fierce apex predator, gave me a little comfort.

“Oh, I sleep naked, though.”

I smacked the back of his thigh and groaned. “Take me back to my squirrel hut. You’re an animal.”

“You have no idea,” he mumbled under his breath.

I furrowed my eyebrows. Did he think I didn’t know what he was?  I’d just assumed that he knew. If he wasn’t aware that I knew he was a bear shifter, then he also wasn’t aware that I knew we were mates. I’d been worried that he’d want me to commit to something sooner, rather than later. The way it stood, he thought I was still in the dark. Maybe I still had time to feel him out before I had to make any concrete decisions. I had time to search for that thing in him, that one thing that was off.

CHAPTER 11: Wyatt

I put my little mate down next to the fire, disappointed that I had to release her from my arms so soon. Not that I deserved to hold her at all.  What kind of a bear would help someone else before getting around to his mate, letting her nearly freeze to death on the side of a mountain?  I pulled the wool scarf from around my neck and wrapped it around hers, hoping the warmth from my skin would help increase her temperature.

“You’ll freeze, Wyatt. Take this back.”

I put it back around her neck and pulled her hair over it. “Leave it on.”

She frowned. “You’re bossy.”

I just shrugged. “Yeah.  I am.”

I stoked the fire and added a few more logs, determined to warm her up. I had about a million other ideas running through my head of ways I could warm her up, but I had to take it easy.

I stood up and looked around, belatedly realizing that everyone was watching us. Almost all of them were repeat visitors and I knew they’d never seen me tend to a member of the group in quite the same way. I didn’t care, though. Obviously, Georgia was out of her league in the wilderness. Even if she hadn’t been my mate, she’d need special attention.

“Wyatt? Can you come help me? I was hoping to be a little closer to the fire, but my leg’s still hurting.” Sarah blinked up at me from across the fire.

“Bill, would you mind? It’ll be great practice for the week you finally convince that wife of yours to come up here and join us.”

Bill nodded and headed her way. Sarah made a face at me, but I was done making that mistake. I needed to be focused on my mate.

“I brought hotdogs for tonight. We’ll have a cushy dinner tonight to start off the week, but beginning tomorrow, we’re living off the land. You all know the drill.”

Georgia made an unpleasant sound and shrugged when everyone glanced her way. “I tried to go back home. Somewhere where cushy isn’t used to describe hotdogs.”

I sat on the log next to her and grabbed the pack of food. “This is going to be the best hotdog you’ve ever had.”

She glanced up at me, the firelight reflecting in her eyes, and grinned.  “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

Laughter erupted from Bill, across the fire, and I had to bite back my own urge to laugh. I’d never presented anything other than a professional, serious demeanor while on the tour and I wasn’t sure how I felt about introducing a new, lighter side of myself.

“Aren’t you cold, Wyatt?”

I was going to throw Sarah off the mountain. I realized it was my own karma biting me in the ass, but I’d slept with her before I knew my mate was going to show up. Sarah was human; she didn’t know about mates. She could’ve at least had the sense to take a hint, however. Lord knows I’d given more than one.

“I’m fine. Alright, everyone take a hotdog. There’s two more packs, so don’t be shy.” I took two out and passed the rest along. “I’ve got yours, Georgia. You just try to thaw out.”

She held her hands out to the fire and sent me a grateful look. “Thank you.”

I quickly cooked the hotdogs and wrapped them in the buns I’d brought along. I handed Georgia hers and watched as she took a bite out of it. My thoughts had been focused on my guilt for letting her suffer without my help, but watching her slide food, especially phallic-shaped food, into her mouth made me forget everything else. My dick hardened painfully against my pants and I couldn’t contain a moan.

Her cheeks blushed and she narrowed her eyes at me. “Watch it, you perv.”

I was. That was the problem. I tucked into my own hotdog and grunted. This was going to be a long week. I was going to be spending all of my time with her, making sure she didn’t kill herself on this mountain. A week without touching her would be damned near impossible.

“We doing our normal group fire introduction?” Martha leaned into the fire and roasted a marshmallow she’d produced from a bag at her side.

My bear drooled for the sweetness of the marshmallow but I resisted.  The things gave me gas.  My bear couldn’t care less about gas. “Sure. Why don’t you start?”

“Well, most of you know already, but I’m Martha. I’ve been doing this sort of thing for almost twenty years. Hell, I bet I could just about teach Wyatt a thing or two.”

I grinned at her. She was one of my favorites. She was also someone I’d come to care about enough to introduce to Mom. Almost every time she was in town, she came over after the trip to gossip and drink wine with Mom until they both passed out. “You want to teach, I’ll be happy to sit back and enjoy the warmth of my shelter.”

She laughed. “No, thanks.”

Bill went next, followed by a new person, Allen. When it got to be Sarah’s turn, I expected bad, but what she gave was even worse.

“I just really connected with Wyatt last week after the tour and we shared something very special. I had to come back to see what it was between us. And after him helping me out so much tonight, I know it was real.”

I glanced over my shoulder at the cliff behind us. There was a slight chance I’d survive it with my shifter healing abilities, and I wasn’t sure I wanted even that slim a chance.

“Don’t even think about it. You leave me stranded on this mountain with your new girlfriend and I’ll administer CPR myself, just so I can off you again.”

I laughed, surprising everyone. I held the daggers that Georgia was staring my way and tried to suppress the shiver wanting to work its way down my back. “Don’t worry. There’s something I plan on doing before I go.”

Satisfied with the way my words left her jaw hanging, I turned my attention back to the group to find their gazes alternating between Sarah and Georgia. I had no intention of pitting them against each other. Sarah wasn’t even on my radar.  I simply looked at the next person and gestured.

When it was finally Georgia’s turn, she straightened her back and sent the group a smile that sent raw lust humming through my veins. She was sexier than any woman I’d ever seen and just the curve of her mouth was enough to have me willing to crawl on my knees to her.

Damn. I was a lost man.

CHAPTER 12: Georgia

“I’m Georgia. I’ve never done anything like this ‘communing with nature’ thing before. I usually stick to the city, so this whole survival tour is an adventure for me. Even being in Burden, is an adventure.  My best friend just ran away to this place, so I felt obliged to come see what she’d gotten herself into.”

Martha grinned at me and offered me a marshmallow. “What do you normally do?”

I winced. I hated that question. No matter how I answered it, someone always looked at me funny afterwards. “I own a few businesses back home.”

They all turned their heads in my direction at once, even Wyatt.  I fiddled with the ends of my hair and sighed. “My dad owned Prescott Corporation. When he died a few years ago, he left the whole thing to me, for some unknown reason.”

They continued to stare at me, so I shrugged. “I hired on people to run it, but I can’t really do anything else when they call me so often.”

Bill finally spoke up. “Jesus. I guess I sort of work for you then. I’ve been working at the Dallas branch for nearly twenty years.”

I sent him a shaky smile and nodded. “I really try to stay hands off.”

“Thank god I hadn’t spent the whole day complaining about my job, huh?” He laughed, still sounding incredulous.

My heart ached for a second. “If there is anything I can do to help at all, just let me know. While I do try to stay hands off because the business at the higher level is just bullshit, I don’t like the idea of anyone being completely unhappy if I can fix it.”

Bill stared at me for a few more seconds before slowly smiling. “You’re okay, Georgia. I can call you Georgia, right?”

I tossed a marshmallow at him. “Of course.”

“So, what do you actually do?” Sarah’s voice rang out from the other side of the fire, clear and sharp.

I felt like growling at her, bearing my teeth and extending my claws like I was one of the local shifters. “What do I actually do?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes. You said it yourself that you don’t run the business. So, what do you do?”

Wyatt’s big frame slid closer to me and I swear the air between us sizzled. It was distracting as hell. “We don’t normally get so personal.”

“It’s okay. If Sarah is that interested in me, I’ll answer her question.” I looked straight at her, across the fire, and arched an eyebrow. “I do things that I want to do. I take trips across the country to see my best friend. I run several charities that I’ve founded in my hometown. I take a pottery class at a local college two days a week. I do whatever I want because I can. Is that sufficient for you?”

She shrugged her shoulder. “So, you don’t work. That must be nice.”

I resisted the urge to push her into the fire. Barely. “It is nice. Thanks for agreeing.”

Bill shifted in his seat and grinned across the fire at me. “About a year ago, the company instated a no weekends policy. Was that you?”

I grinned, but it didn’t reach my eyes. I was about to spew some bullshit that made it seem like my childhood had been okay. Like Daddy Dearest had actually been around some. In reality, I could’ve counted on two hands the times I saw my dad while growing up. It didn’t stop me from wanting better for the workers at Prescott, though. So, some of it was true. “Guilty. I remember as a little girl always missing my dad on the weekends. He was never around for Saturday morning pancakes or Sunday morning church services, try as he might. I didn’t want to run a company that kept parents away from their children.”

Wyatt scooped my hand into his and for some reason I didn’t pull away. The warmth that radiated from his body comforted me more than a wool coat could have.

“You’re pretty special, Georgia.”

I laughed through an awkwardness that was wholly my own.  “Thanks, Bill. So, who’s next?”

Someone beside Bill put me out of my misery by talking about themselves. Then it came to Wyatt.

His deep voice carried and his fingers flexed around mine. “Wyatt Drexel. I’ve been doing this for a while, leading the survival tours. I started after a very unsuccessful stint at a job in town. Turns out, I’m better in the wild.”

Sarah made a sound that convinced me that she wanted me to fight her. I didn’t know if it was the weird mate thing or if I was just suddenly the world’s most jealous woman, but I wanted to show her that Wyatt was mine.

I looked over at him and watched as he shoved a cookie into his mouth. I had no idea where it’d even come from, but it’d left a chocolate smear across his lower lip. Slowly, I leaned into him and dragged my finger across his lip, catching the chocolate and leaving his mouth open and his eyes glowing.

Unable to help myself, I popped my finger into my mouth and sucked off the chocolate. I moaned slightly at the taste and gave him a slow smile.  Wyatt reacted in the blink of an eye. I was next to him and then I was practically in his lap. He held me in his arms and stared down at me.

“Mate.”

My heart kicked up, determined to let me know how excited it was that he was clearly accepting me as his mate. Fear wasn’t too far behind, though. There were a lot of things that I considered permanent in my life.  Money, fun, my girlfriends, quality shoes from well-known designers. Men weren’t one. They never had been, anyway. From my father to the men I dated, there was nothing long-lasting about any of them. It was scary as hell and completely foreign to think of a man being in my life forever.

“Um, group, I think this is our cue to hit the hay.” Martha stood up and poured dirt over the fire to put it out and then patted me on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine out here, honey. That man is going to take good care of you.”

“We’ll see everyone back here in the morning.” Bill stood up and hefted Sarah up, as well. “Come on, hop-a-long.  Let’s get you back to your camp and set up for the night.”

“But I wanted Wyatt to help me.”

“Don’t you see that Wyatt is occupied? It’s me or crawl.”

Slowly they all left, but Wyatt didn’t move. He was staring down at me with his eyes flashing from a deep brown to an almost golden glow. The intensity of his stare made my body respond in a very carnal way.  His nostrils flared and he settled me fully onto his lap.

“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything or anyone, Georgia.”

I wanted him, too. My body wanted him   , anyway. Hell, my body was responding to him like a horny teenager. My mind, however, was in meltdown mode. I knew without a doubt that once something started with Wyatt, it would be damn near impossible to stop it. That thought was petrifying.

“I want…” I took a deep breath and pushed myself off his lap. “I want to go to sleep.”

He let out a frustrated growl but stood up scooping me into his arms like I hadn’t just shot him down. “You’re full of surprises, Georgia. Not all of them completely pleasant.”

I forced myself to remain silent as he carried me away. I was terrified that if I opened my mouth, I would moan. The way he was carrying me, my chest rubbed against his with every step he took. It was pure torturous pleasure and I doubted I was going to be able to maintain the strength to keep shooting down his advances.

CHAPTER 13: Wyatt

I bit back more grumblings from my unsatisfied bear as I carried my mate to my shelter. It was on the small side for a man of my stature, and there wouldn’t be a lot of elbow room, but it was secure and would do to keep the encroaching rain out. If my body heat didn’t burn the thing down first.

Holding my curvy mate in my arms, feeling her soft body pressing and rubbing against my chest was doing me in. I’d never felt more turned on.  My bear was pacing, growling at me, demanding I mark her and deal with the consequences later. He wasn’t civilized. To my bear, once I marked her, she couldn’t get away from me. That was how he thought I should win her over? I knew better. Women didn’t work that way. Especially not this woman. She was refined, from the city, and probably knew how to verbally eviscerate an aggressive male in a hundred different ways.

I had to figure out a way to explain to her what I was, so we could move on to the mate conversation. I wanted her to know me, just as much as I wanted to know her. This feeling of near desperation to know a woman, every part of her, was new to me, yet it felt more perfect than anything I’d ever experienced.

I hiked up the mountain a bit higher, eager to reach my shelter so I could crawl inside with her. I hoped the urge to mark her would settle down some once we were alone and there were no other males around to set my bear off.

“So, Sarah seems really into you.”

I slapped Georgia’s ass hard, without even thinking about it. “You’re toying with me, now.”

She stiffened against me, completely at odds with the overwhelming and intoxicating scent of her arousal. “Caveman. Don’t do that again.”

My dick ached painfully at the hoarseness in her voice. I wanted to hear that voice begging me to slide into her hot little body. I stroked my hand over her ass and left it there. She was mine.

She wiggled against me, her eyes narrowing while her teeth worked her lip between them. “You’re pretty comfortable touching me for a stranger.”

I reached my shelter and bent over to ease her into it. “You and I both know we were never strangers to each other.”

She crawled to the back of the little shelter and tucked her feet under her. “Are you going to take me back down the mountain tomorrow?”

Take her home? No fucking way. I was going to spend this week convincing her that we belonged together. Although, right now, I was having a little trouble containing my bear. Being alone with our mate wasn’t helping any. He needed to run, and I needed to get out of the shelter and go farther up the mountain, away from everyone, to do that.

“I’ll keep you safe this week, Georgia. You’ll have fun.”

She looked like she wanted to argue, but instead she just crossed her arms under her chest and sighed. “You’re a Neanderthal.”

I nodded. “Seems that way.”

CHAPTER 14: Georgia

I waited for him to come back, but the longer I sat there, in his leaf shelter, the more tired I felt. I found a blanket rolled up in his bag and I pulled it into the shelter. I couldn’t get comfortable in his thick pants, so I slipped them off and changed into a long T-shirt and a pair of yoga pants. Then, I crawled under the thick, wool blanket and used his jacket as a pillow. It smelled like him, and soothed something in me that I hadn’t known needed soothing.

He’d left so abruptly. I wasn’t sure where he’d gone. I’d called him a Neanderthal and then he’d just left. I didn’t think he was so easily offended, but just goes to show that I barely knew him. Maybe he’d gone to get his wounded ego stroked somewhere else. Somewhere like Sarah’s shelter.

Anger seared through my body at that thought. He’d obviously been with her before. It wasn’t that far of a stretch to imagine them cozying up together in the twigs and dirt. Wyatt was smoking hot and Sarah was clearly willing to throw herself at him. The visual of her bending herself over backward for him burned itself into my brain and wouldn’t leave.

I wasn’t sure if it was the shelter or the rage I was feeling, but I was suddenly glad to be out of his heavy clothing. I kicked the blanket off my legs and shoved his jacket away from me, too. If he was going to run around on me, one day into us being mates, there was no way I was signing up for a lifetime. I’d find my own damn way down the mountain the next morning. Alone.

I tossed and turned for what felt like hours. Wyatt never returned, and when I finally passed out, my face was still furrowed in anger. I dreamed of punching Sarah in her smug little puckered kisser and giving Wyatt’s balls a “hello” with my kneecap. They both deserved it.

At some point, the rain had started, but I hardly noticed. Not until Wyatt crawled into the shelter next to me, dripping wet. His body settling next to mine woke me up and when his wet arm was slung over me, I went ballistic. I screeched and fought to get away from him.

I flailed and thrashed and my leg connected with something solid just before the shelter toppled over and ice cold rain pelted down on us.

“Georgia! It’s me! Jesus!”

I yanked the blanket over me and tried to be as small as possible to avoid the rain. “I know it’s you, you buttface. Look what you made me do!”

He was already on his knees, working to fix the log I’d kicked out of place. “What the hell’s wrong with you? You want to freeze to death?!”

I sat up, the top of my head connecting with the bottom of his chin. Crap! It felt like I’d rammed my head into a brick wall. “Why’d you put your head there?!”

He cursed as he held his mouth and leaned out of the shelter to spit out blood. “You are a fucking detriment to my health tonight.”

My slight worry for his mouth disappeared and I poked him. “You made me stay!”

He grabbed a canister of water and swished some around before spitting it out. “What is wrong with you? Do you always wake up this volatile?”

I shoved the wet blanket at him and held up my hands as rain continued to soak me. “This is what I woke up to! Of course, I’m a little pissy.”

He jammed the log back into place and the rain instantly stopped flowing down on us. His hair hung, wet, in his face, and large droplets rolled down his bare chest. “You did this!”

I was momentarily distracted as I followed the trail of water down to his lap. His barely covered, obviously naked lap. “Are you naked?! You couldn’t even dress before coming back from her shelter?”

“What the hell are you talking about? I told you I sleep naked.”

I crab-crawled as far from him as I could get and glared. “Maybe you should go sleep naked with Sarah. I promise you I don’t mind. I’m more than happy with just the shelter. She can keep the man.”

I didn’t have time to scream before he grabbed me and yanked me into his arms. He pulled me over his lap and landed his hand on my wet ass once, twice, and then a third time.

Words failed me and I couldn’t take back the moan I let out at being manhandled the way I was. My pride told me to fight him, but my body and, unfortunately, my heart, told me to let the man take what was his.

CHAPTER 15: Wyatt

Thunder rang out around us and I hastily scattered off Wyatt’s lap.  I stared at him with wide eyes and my mouth agape. Lust was pounding through me much like the rain pounding on the small shelter, insistent that I pay attention to it or be drowned. My hair was plastered to my head and I knew I must look awful, but oddly, none of that mattered. For the first time in my life, I was staring at a man, unconcerned about my physical appearance as I contemplated taking him to bed. Or ground. Whatever.

“Come here.”

His bossiness ruffled my feathers. He was just what I’d called him earlier. One hundred percent Neanderthal.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” I gritted my teeth and got up on my knees, “And don’t you dare do that again. What you just did, I mean.”

He got to his knees, the blanket fell away, and I was instantly aware of a very big exclamation point between us. Very big. “You deserved it. You probably deserve more.”

My face and chest went red. “Touch me again and I will make you wish you’d never been born.”

His big hands clasped the back of my head and around my waist and he dragged me into his chest. Suddenly pressed against each other from shoulder to knee, he groaned and his hand fisted in my hair. “I was born to touch you.”

My body went up in flames. I slammed my mouth into his and he dove for mine. Sense and reason flew out the window. I cared about nothing but him. I just needed him.

His kiss made me feel like I was spinning down the mountain. My head buzzed and tingling started in the tips of my fingers, slowly creeping, taking over my entire body.  Just when I thought I would float away, he lowered us to the ground. With his weight on top of me, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders to keep him there.

Wyatt kissed me like I was air and he needed me to breathe. There was something that edged on desperation that made me feel a little wild.  His hands captured my face and he worshipped my lips with his, soft and gentle first, then rough and hard. His tongue slid into my mouth and swept away any other kiss I could’ve ever remembered.

I tasted berries on his breath and flicked my tongue over his lips.  “Did you eat some of her pie?”

He growled and sat up, on his knees, straddling me. “Woman, I am here with you, trying to show you that you’re the only woman my eyes can see. Stop talking. Especially about her.”

He looked like some sort of dark angel, ready to ravage his woman in his cavernous lair. His face was drawn tight, part anger and part lust. His body was all hard muscle and sex-appeal and he wanted me. Just me.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

His eyes flashed pale, nearly the color of the sun, as they raked over my body.  “Don’t ask me crazy questions.”

I pushed myself up and nipped at his right nipple that was in front of my face. When he moaned, I flattened my tongue and licked before running it across his chest to the other one. “Shut up.”

He rolled us over so I was on top and bucked his hips against me. “Take your shirt off. Slow. I want to see you.”

Instead of arguing, I caught the bottom hem of my shirt and did as he demanded. I slowly pulled it up and off, as my breasts tumbled out in front of him. He sat up like I had and cupped one of them in his massive hand. When his lips closed over my nipple and his teeth teased me, I cried out.

He kissed the skin under my chest and then over my ribs. “Pants. Off.”

I didn’t stop pushing them down as I commented about his commands. “Your vocabulary is the size of a matchbook.”

When I didn’t move fast enough, he grabbed them and ripped them from my body, pinching and tugging my skin in the process. Moisture leaked from my core. Something about this sexy caveman brute and his eagerness to have me, set me on fire.

Then, he was tugging me up, up, until I was kneeling with my thighs spread wide over his face. I gasped as he bit my thigh and grabbed my ass with both hands, squeezing, like he was squeezing lemons, and separating my cheeks.

“Wyatt!” My shocked scream was carried away on a roll of thunder and then I was screaming again, pleasure clenching my throat until my voice broke and all that was left was a thick, lust-filled moan.

His tongue speared into me, fucking me as deep as he could get it. His nose rubbed my clit in time with his thrusting and in seconds, I was drifting away on the first waves of an orgasm. As my body lurched forward, I grabbed at anything I could and caught the stick holding the shelter together above us.  It rocked dangerously, but managed to take my yanking.

While wave after wave of orgasm rolled over me, Wyatt moved his tongue to my clit and flicked it there gently, prolonging my orgasm until I was crying for him to stop.

When he did stop, it was to flip me over and slide me down until he could impale me with his cock. I felt him rock into me for the first time. He was thick and long, filling me until it was just shy of painful.

Wyatt moaned and buried his face into my neck. “Fuck.”

I raked my nails down his back and locked my legs around his waist.  “Yes, Wyatt!  Yes!”

He pulled out and then slammed back into me. His teeth scraped across my skin and I felt something release inside of me. I understood the desperation he must’ve felt earlier. I needed him, more of him, all of him. I wanted him in me, on me, over me, any kind of way I could get him.

I sank my teeth into his shoulder as he hit a spot in me that no other man had ever touched before. He growled and jerked us up so that I was in his lap, straddling him. The position made him feel impossibly larger in me.  Our bodies rocked together, faster, harder. My breasts smashed into his chest and the dusting of hair he had there was just rough enough to drive me closer to the edge.

The rain changed direction and blew in through the side of the shelter.  It drenched us, but I barely noticed. Staring into Wyatt’s eyes as he took me, kissing his swollen lips, I was a woman gone.

His hands slapped my ass and then gripped it as he thrust into my body harder. “Georgia, I’m not going to last.”

I tossed my head back and licked rain from my upper lip. His eyes moved to my neck, glowing golden again. I knew what he wanted. I knew and for a second, it didn’t scare me. I kissed him hard and then buried my face into the crook of his neck, leaving mine exposed. I felt besotted with him, like the world was spinning so fast around me that we would take off at any second.

Wyatt’s thumb moved to my clit and he circled it once before I came apart in his arms. I clenched tight around him and felt his body jerk as his orgasm started. Then, I felt him vibrate against me seconds before his teeth sank into my neck. I screamed his name as my orgasm doubled, then tripled in intensity.

My body was exploding in pleasure that grew and grew until I was writhing in his arms, helpless to do anything but let it overtake me. I could feel his hot seed filling me as he growled out my name. I was vaguely aware of my body turning to jello.

CHAPTER 16: Wyatt

I held my mate in my arms, feeling complete and more satiated than I could ever remember feeling. She was mine. It might’ve made me a Neanderthal, but it was true. She wore my mark on her neck like a sexy necklace. She already smelled slightly of me and I couldn’t contain a roar of pride at knowing that anyone else who got close to her would know that she was spoken for.

She shivered slightly and I cursed. The rain battered away at us, leaving us both dripping wet and quickly growing cold. I reached my arm out of the shelter and grabbed the small flap I’d put across the top for just that purpose. I pulled it down and the rain instantly stopped pelting us. I found my jacket stuffed to one side of the shelter and wrapped it around Georgia’s shoulders.

My body was naturally warmer than hers so I wrapped her in my arms and held her to my chest. Her head fit just under my chin and her little hands immediately tried to wrap around my sides to hold me. Feeling her reach for me sent a new emotion flowing through my body. My bear even curled up to it like a little puppy. In one night, she’d brought us both to our knees.

I pressed a kiss to the top of her head. The mate bond was more than I’d ever expected. I’d always heard stories about how intense it would be, but there was no preparing for the real thing. I felt like I’d just been knocked off my feet and dragged by the hair to a place where the sun shone brighter. Where the whole world was new and different.

The guys would eat me alive if they knew I was thinking about sunshine and puppies while a sexy, naked woman was on top of me. Thorn would get it. He’d just mated with Allie. He’d been an idiot, though. He’d run from his mate like she was the plague. There was no way I was running from Georgia. I knew what I wanted and I was taking it.

*

I woke up to Georgia straddling me. My morning wood turned to rock and I growled. “What are you up to, little one?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

I about choked when she lifted her hips and then took me into her tight channel. Fur threatened to erupt all over my body as I nearly lost all control. “Georgia…”

She rocked her hips back and forth and tossed her head back. Her hair was kinked in all sorts of places, looking about as wild as I imagined it could, and dragging across my thighs as she moved.  She smelled like sex and berries and rain, and a little something wild from me. I could smell our sex on her skin and I’d never smelled anything better. Her eyes opened wide as I grabbed her hips and lifted her, just to drop her back down on my dick.

“You give the best damn wakeup call, sugar.”

She rocked her hips faster and I swallowed the urge to flip her over and take control. She could set her own pace. I wanted to watch her use my body to pleasure herself.

As her hips moved, I could feel her walls tightening on me. A pretty blush started at her chest and worked its way up to her cheeks and down to her stomach as she got closer to coming. Her hands were suddenly on my chest, nails clawing into my skin as she bit her lip and came with a greedy sounding little mewl.

I shook with the need to take her. My hands dug into her hips and I had to squeeze my eyes shut so I wouldn’t see her beautiful face all scrunched up with pleasure, her lip caught between her teeth and her tongue stroking out to wet it. If I saw it, I’d come early and embarrass myself in a way that hadn’t happened since I was fifteen.

“Wyatt.” Her voice was husky and revealed her desire. “How do you want me?”

I stilled.

“Tell me. On my knees? You’ve already had me on my back, but I’m not opposed to trying it again. Just tell me what you want.”

My voice was barely more than a growl when I spoke. “Hands and knees. Now.”

She climbed off of me and then positioned herself. She was stunning that way, exposed and waiting for me. She was giving me everything and I was determined to make sure she knew how fucking much it meant to me.

I moved behind her and stroked her ass before dipping my fingers into her from behind. The ragged cry of pleasure threatened to break me. I wrapped her hair around my fist and thrust into her, a loud roar ripping from my chest as I discovered what home really meant. Right there, in my mate, that was where I was meant to be. Filling her, pleasuring her, making sure she knew damn well that I belonged to her as much as I demanded she belong to me.

“Mine. You are mine, Georgia.”

She gasped as I thrust into her, harder and faster. “You don’t…  You don’t even know if you like me outside of this.”

I stilled with just the tip of my cock inside of her. “I know. I know more than you could possibly begin to guess just how much I like you. You were made for me, sugar, and I was designed and created with you in mind. I like all of you.

“I like this.” I slowly pushed back into her and then pulled out. Then, I cupped her long, slender neck in my hands and turned her face to the side so she could see me. “And I like this.” I pressed my lips against hers.

She moaned into my kiss and then stared up at me with huge eyes. “How are you doing this to me?”

I moved again, gentler and more determined to put everything I felt into my movements, so she wouldn’t be able to question my feelings. “You’re doing the same thing to me. I’m yours just as much as you’re mine.”

The words set something off in her. Another orgasm crashed through her body, taking mine right along with it. I would make her understand. I had to.

CHAPTER 17: Georgia

The feelings that were bubbling to my surface and threatening to break through were dangerous. They screamed commitment. They screamed forever. I wasn’t that kind of girl. The longest a relationship had ever lasted for me was a couple of weeks. That’s how long it took before the little annoyances became deal-breakers. Yet, even dressed in just a pair of ragged cargo shorts and a black bandana to keep his hair out of his face, Wyatt was still the sexiest man I’d ever seen. My body was definitely cheering for a long haul.

The man could make sex an Olympic sport. He had me cumming like a freight train and in under a minute. I’d never experienced anything comparable to the pleasure Wyatt Drexel wielded. And I was terrified of it.

I was so scared that I needed to get out of the damn shelter as soon as I could, before  the feeling of claustrophobia overtook me. I’d barely pulled my tank top over my head when I hurried out as fast as I could, crashing headlong into someone climbing just as hurriedly into the shelter.

Our heads connected and I saw stars for a moment. Then, I realized a body was stumbling backwards, towards the small drop behind. I reached out blindly and tried to grab an arm or leg, or anything I could, but when my fingers connected with a chest, I ended up providing just the needed amount of force to topple them backwards. The resounding scream and thud were nearly drowned out by the rustle of leaves.

I blinked away the pain of a near concussion and crawled over to the drop-off. When my eyes uncrossed and I could focus again, I almost felt bad. Almost.

Sarah was sprawled out in a big clump of leaves, fighting and clawing her way out. She looked spitting mad and her anger was aimed entirely at me. “You bitch! You stupid, stupid bitch. You pushed me! You pushed me into poison ivy!”

I immediately crowded back, and collided with Wyatt’s hard, hot chest. “I didn’t push you. I was trying to save you from falling. If I’d known it was you, though, I would’ve pushed. What were you doing here? Why were practically running into our shelter?”

“Our shelter?” She said it with incredulity at the same time as Wyatt said it with a smile in his voice.

I turned to him and put my hand to my forehead. Looking at all that bare chest exposed was enough to momentarily make me forget how badly    my brain was thundering against my skull and I had to touch it to make sure I hadn’t imagined everything. “Your shelter.”

He grinned and hooked an arm around my waist. “Our shelter. Even if you were trying to run away from it.”

I winced and he just chuckled. “I was… just stepping out for some fresh air.”

“You were running. That’s okay. I like a good chase.”

My heart skipped a beat and moisture leaked between my thighs until the angry, shrill screaming from behind me registered and I turned back to Sarah.

She was still struggling, rolling around trying to get out and becoming more and more furious by the second. “When I get out of here, I’m going to drag your ass in here and rub it all over you.”

Wyatt growled from behind me and wrapped his arm around my waist. “Watch it. You shouldn’t have been entering my shelter. The way I see it, you’re in the wrong here. Now, if you’ll stop all the caterwauling, I’ll come around and help you out.”

I wanted to protest that. I didn’t want him helping her. Helping her seemed to just encourage her. But, instead, I crossed my arms over my chest and remained silent.

“Yes, please, come save me, Wyatt.”

I hissed at her. “I’m glad I accidentally pushed you.”

“It’s been four days since his dick was inside of me, you bubble head. He made me scream on his desk. Four days. That’s all. Think about that long and hard before you start feeling like you are anything special.”

I glared back at Wyatt, who was looking like he wanted to dig a hole and crawl in, and grunted. “You sure do move fast.”

He groaned. “I didn’t know you then. I didn’t know you were coming.”

I poked him in his bare chest and marched away from him. “I suggest you help your girlfriend out of her predicament.”

Before I got too far away, he caught me in his arms and nuzzled his face into my neck from behind. Sensations shot off in me like fireworks.  My knees went weak and I dug my fingers into his arm in an attempt to steady myself.

“I’ll walk you down if you’ll just wait.” His voice was thick and husky, not the only proof that he was just as affected as I was. There was also the steel erection burrowed against my ass.

I could feel his need pulsing into me. Not just the normal way, but through some kind of channel that shot straight to my chest. I turned to him and stared up at him with wide eyes. “What did you do?”

He took a step back, but his eyes flickered to my neck. “What do you mean?”

I raised my hand and felt the bite mark. The fog from the night before suddenly cleared and I nearly fell to my knees remembering the feeling of his teeth sinking into my neck. Pleasure, pure and intense, coursed through me and I found myself clinging to his chest before I could help it.

“I, uh, I got a little carried away. It’ll be fine.”

My anger was slow to override my shock. It flowed in like the tide, slowly but surely, as did the realization of what the bite signified. Pleasure aside, he’d taken control of a situation that he had no business controlling.  He’d effectively bound me to him for life, if what Allie said was accurate, without my permission. It didn’t get more caveman than that.

As my anger crested, I swung my hand back and used the back of it to swat him, hard, in the ball sack. He went to his knees in front of me and I glared down at him.  “You don’t just…bite… someone without their permission!”

I shoved him backwards and then stomped off.  Dramatic exits were as important as first impressions. Unsure of where I was going, I decided it didn’t matter as long as it got me away from the asshole who’d marked me without even considering what I wanted.  Talk about control freaks.

I kicked a stick out of my way with my flip flop and tried to decide what I should do next. Despite the bright sky above me, my thoughts were grim.

CHAPTER 18: Wyatt

After yanking a still screaming Sarah out of the poison ivy patch, I stalked off in search of my mate. Since we were bonded, I could feel her like a damn beacon, calling my name. She had every right to be upset. I knew it, but that didn’t make me want to give her any more time to herself to stew in her anger, or plot against me. Maybe the smack to the nuts had been enough of a reprimand.

I neared the group campfire location and stilled.  She was sitting on a log, by herself, silently fuming.  Her lips were moving, but there was no sound coming out, not even any that reached my sensitive hearing. The wind caught her scent and brought it to my nose and I growled as I stepped from the tree line.

“I knew you were there. I could smell you creeping in the trees.” She didn’t look up from the shiny phone she held in her hands.

“I wasn’t creeping. I was trying to decide if you were casting spells or something. You’re a little scary right now.”

She huffed a short laugh and then gave me an angry look like she hadn’t meant to. “Don’t try to be funny. I’m pissed at you. I’m so pissed that I can’t even think straight. I don’t know if I want to boot your ass off the side of this mountain or punch you in the dick again. Both. Both sound really great to me right now.”

I just stared at her. She didn’t know what the bite meant. Why was she so angry about it? “Sugar, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you so upset about a little love mark?”

Her face turned red and she jerked her attention back to her phone.  After punching buttons on it for a few seconds, she turned back to me with hesitation in her eyes. “Thorn did the same thing to Allie. Marking her like she’s his property. You just did that to me. You practically lifted your leg and pissed on me. I don’t like that.”

I could hear something else in her words. Something that told me that what she was saying wasn’t the whole truth. I couldn’t guess what else there was to it, though, so let it go. Instead, I tilted my head to the side and showed her the similar bite mark she’d left on my shoulder. Normally, I would’ve healed faster, but for some reason, her mark was staying.

“For someone who is so against people marking their territory, you sure as hell laid a number on me.”

Her eyes flamed as she noticed her bite mark for the first time. Then, her breathing quickened and I watched her nipples pebble beneath the thin tank top she wore.  I wanted nothing more than to drag her to me and take her again. I could hear the group closing in on us, though.

“We both got a little carried away, Georgia. I don’t regret it, though.  There’s a reason we both let ourselves go.”

“What’s that?”

I didn’t hesitate. “Some people are just meant to be together, sugar.  Looks like you’re the lucky one, after all. You get to keep all of this.”

Her lips parted as I flexed my arm muscles and then grinned at her.  “Don’t be mean to me. I’ll be distracted by it all day and then people could get hurt.”

She snapped back to reality as leaves crunched, letting us know we weren’t going to be alone for much longer. She shook her head, clearing it, and then gave me a growl of her own. “That’s a cheap way to get me to be nice to you, Wyatt.”

I scooted closer to her and stole a kiss. “I’m willing to be cheap if it gets you in my shelter again.”

She sighed. “I’ll try. That’s all I can promise.”

I grinned against her mouth and kissed her again just as Martha and Bill came into view with Sarah hobbling behind them. I didn’t care. I was with my mate. They’d just have to deal with me not being on my most professional behavior for a couple of days.

I looked over at Georgia.  Maybe more than a couple of days…  Maybe forever.

*

The second day was usually spent teaching the basics, but everyone with us had been through survival training before and half of them were old pros. Martha hadn’t been kidding when she said she could’ve taught me a thing or two. Bill, too, probably. Considering Martha was a shifter, too, she was just as at home as I was in the outdoors.

Instead of the normal stuff about how to build a real, tried and true shelter, a fire, and stuff like that, we were moving on to eating. I kept Georgia close to my side as I taught the group a new trap.

She’d paled at the idea of trapping a live animal then killing it to eat and survive. Instead of complaining and running from the scene, though, she stood by my side and even attempted to make the trap once. I refrained from pointing out that her trap wouldn’t have caught a snail.

She’d perked right up at the idea of picking berries and had managed to come away from the experience with stained fingers and lips. Her smell surrounded me and I sported a boner the entire time we were there. There was nothing I could do about it.

While we traipsed all over the mountain, she eventually kicked off her flip flops and braved the elements in just her bare feet. I silently vowed that I’d rub them once we were finished. She was doing her best to learn and adapt and it was one of the sexiest things I’d ever seen.

My final demonstration of the day, before I released everyone to go out and scavenge for their dinner, was fishing. I taught them how to do it with just a sharpened stick and a piece of vine. While the rest of the group was getting the hang of it, I made my way to Georgia and smiled.

“You having fun yet?”

Her eyes lit up as she looked up at me.  She was waist deep in a stream, her clothes soaked from splashing around, and she’d somehow managed to get mud on her forehead. “This part, this is fun!”

I moved into the water behind her, wrapping my arms around her under the guise of helping her fish. “Here. Sometimes, the stick throwing method works better for people who are a little taller and can get a little more motion behind them. You can always use an earring or something similar as a hook, too. Part of surviving is using what you have.”

I always kept a hook in my pocket while teaching, in case someone needed a little extra help. I could tell that, even though she was enthusiastic, Georgia was going to need extra help. A lot of it.

I pulled her over to the bank with me and pointed at the mud. “Find yourself a fat worm.”

Her face said it all. There was no way she was going to stick her hand in the mud to grab a worm.

“Sugar, as much as I’m holding you hostage here to be close to you, I’m also doing it to teach you something. In case you ever need it. So, go ahead. Stick your hand in there and find a worm.”

“That’s not going to happen, Wyatt.” She was shaking her head fervently. “That’s gross. Beyond gross. I don’t want to touch a worm and I don’t want to kill one, either.” Her nose crinkled as she thought more about it. “Let’s go back to the spear method. Maybe if I find a rock to stand on or something, I’ll be able to do it.”

“Okay, we’ll practice without the bait for right now. Let me just show you how to throw it out.”

I should’ve known better than to give my little hell-cat something sharp to throw around.

CHAPTER 19: Georgia

I did everything just the way Wyatt showed me. I drew back the little stick with the vine and hook connected and then I jerked it forward.  I wasn’t prepared for the tug I felt or Wyatt instantly swearing from where he stood behind me.

I turned around and looked up at him with wide eyes. “What?!”

Scowling, he took the makeshift pole from me without a word, turned and limped away. His silence was eerie.

I followed him, worried that I’d done something to upset him. “Wyatt, what happened?”

He sat down on the bank and looked down at his leg. His leg, where there was a shiny, silver hook jammed in. He swore some more and then just rested his elbows on his knees and took a couple breaths. How was he the picture of relaxation despite there being a fish hook in him?

I, on the other hand, went into full blown panic mode. I’d injured my mate. I’d stuck a freaking hook into him. “Help! Someone, help! I hooked Wyatt!”

Wyatt started laughing, his eyes crinkling in a distracting way and his hands wrapped around his middle clenching his stomach as he roared.

“Oh, god. He’s going into shock!” I knelt in front of him and cupped his face in my hands. “I’m so sorry, Wyatt. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Hang on, baby, just hang on.”

He sobered up and held my gaze. “Sugar, it’s okay. I’m fine. It’s going to hurt like a bitch to pull out, but I’m not dying. It’s just a scratch, really.”

I looked back at it and felt a wave of nausea roll around in my stomach. Scratch, my ass. He was hooked deep. I stifled a gag and nodded. “Sure. Just a scratch. No big deal.”

He looked up as Martha came over. “It’s okay, Martha. Just got a hook in my leg. Nothing I can’t handle. Why don’t you lead the others back to the traps to see if anything is caught in them?”

She nodded and headed away like getting a hook in your leg was perfectly normal.

I put my hands on Wyatt’s thighs and searched his face for signs of distress. When I found none, I blew out a big breath. “This isn’t that big of a deal?”

He shook his head. “No. You’re not going to want to watch, though.”

I glanced at where his fingers were gripping the hook and gasped. “Wyatt!  You can’t just pull it out.  You need stitches and a doctor and…medicine.  You definitely need medicine.”

He cupped my face in his hand and turned it towards his. “I’m fine. Just a little tug and it’ll be out.”

I looked back down at his leg right as he tugged the hook. Blood and skin ripped out and I felt the world sway. There was blood everywhere. On his hands, on his leg, on the rocks beside him. “Too much…blood.”

“Georgia?”

Wyatt’s voice faded as my vision grew dark and fuzzy at the corners. I felt my stomach roll again as the rocks rushed towards my face.

*

The first things I noticed when I came to were the fact that I was wearing different clothes and my hair was wet. I sat up and groaned. My forehead hurt and I cringed as I felt the skin there. On one side, there was a goose egg from Sarah, and on the other, rough skin that felt like several little scratches.

“I caught you before you really banged your head around, but your forehead still caught the gravel.”

I looked over at Wyatt and frowned. “You dropped me, didn’t you?”

He laughed. “As much as I love your confidence in me, no. I didn’t drop you. You just fell away from me. I did what I could. You’re okay, though.”

I looked at his leg and noticed there was nothing there. Not even a scratch. I wanted to ask, but I figured it had to be something to do with his shifter abilities, so I kept my mouth shut. The more time I spent with him, the more I was worried that we didn’t fit at all. I didn’t want to reveal to him that I knew about mates. If I did, he’d know that I knew that we were supposedly bound forever.

It sucked. Contrary to what I’d have him believe, I liked being around him. I liked him, but it was obvious that we couldn’t be more different. He made me laugh and I couldn’t help but be attracted to him. Yet, I still knew that it wasn’t right. Even if I was the kind of girl who kept men around for longer that a couple weeks, I needed a man more attuned to my lifestyle. A man whose mere existence didn’t threaten my safety with poison ivy pits and fishing hooks. A man who wasn’t more accustomed to killing animals for his dinner and living barefoot in the mountains than having dinner in a four-star restaurant.

Those bare feet were almost enough to be my undoing, though. I couldn’t help but look at them. So out of place among the rocks and dried leaves on the ground, and yet so right. His feet were long and tan, a match to his long body. They were clean, despite the elements, and some weird part of me wanted to touch the tops of them to feel the light dusting of hair there. They were the feet of a man, a wild man.

I didn’t know how I was supposed to deal with letting him go when even his feet made me swoon. None of this make sense.

“You look like you’re experiencing a bunch of emotions over there.  How do you feel?”

We were alone by his shelter. I looked up and met his eyes and my heart immediately raced. I tried to ignore it. It didn’t know what it needed. It was stupid. “Like I don’t belong.”

His face darkened and he scooted closer to me. He caught one of my own feet in his hands and started massaging it. “You belong.”

I just shook my head. I was suddenly feeling like a big, ugly wart. I was out of place. I didn’t belong here. I was a hindrance to anything he wanted to do with the rest of the group. He probably did need someone like Sarah. Someone who could be a partner to him. Someone who wouldn’t accidently walk off the side of the mountain if left to her own devices.

I shook my head again. What was I thinking? What had gotten into me? It didn’t matter what he needed. I didn’t need him. Right? Right. That was the way I’d lived my whole life. Never needing any man. Never thinking about what a man needed from me because it didn’t matter. I wouldn’t be around long enough to give it to them, anyway.

Yet, looking at Wyatt, I was plagued with thoughts of all the things he would need that I didn’t have. How was it possible that a man who could squelch every doubt and insecurity I’d ever had about my body in a matter of hours could also be a man who made me doubt everything about the way I’d lived my whole life?

“Bill caught a couple of squirrels for dinner.”

Yeah, it was about time for me to get back to the city. At least the town. The universe had messed up when assigning mates. I couldn’t be farther from the right woman for Wyatt. I meant, he couldn’t be farther from right for me.

Although, if that was true, why did it hurt so bad to think about letting him be with Sarah, a woman who was clearly a better fit for him?

CHAPTER 20: Wyatt

Georgia had been mostly silent since she’d regained consciousness. She’d just been staring at me and every so often mouthing things to herself. If I was a weaker man, it would’ve scared the hell out of me. She was a thinker and if the frown on her face was any indication, the thoughts weren’t good. I felt like she was searching me, looking for flaws. Her eyes had lost their heat and gained something cold and calculating that told me she was probably quite good at heading a large corporation.

“I washed your hair in the creek. You threw up in it a little bit.”

Her eyes widened and then she finally looked away from me. “So, squirrels, huh?”

I grabbed her other foot and rubbed it. They were still muddy from fishing and I found myself knocking off dried bits as I went. A little mud didn’t bother me, but her face froze in horror when she noticed what I was doing.  She snatched her foot away from me and curled it under herself.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Stupid question.

Her eyes narrowed and some of the heat returned. “What’s wrong?  Seriously? I pushed someone into a pit of poison ivy, hooked you through the leg, wounded myself multiple times, and I look like death warmed over. I can’t even see my face, not that I want to, but I can imagine how awful it is. I’m meant for salons and spas and cordon bleu. Not squirrel!”

I looked up at the darkening sky and blew out a breath. “I thought you were having fun today. You seemed happy while you were fishing.”

She hesitated a second, but then her determination set her chin up a notch higher. “Do you know what I normally do? I throw parties—all kinds of parties. I throw wild parties that involve lots of liquor, sometimes male strippers. I throw fundraisers that command a thousand dollars a plate. I throw parties that involve caterers, fancy finger foods, and sometimes chocolate fountains! That’s right, fountains of chocolate. Fountains of chocolate make me happy.”

Annoyance chewed at me. “Do they?”

There was another hesitation. One big enough for me to drive a truck through. “Yes. They do. I want to go home.”

I felt myself growing angrier and angrier. She wasn’t just insulting Wyatt the guide. She was insulting me. Rejecting me. Pain seared through me like a dagger, but I ignored it in favor of anger. “Fine. You can run back home to your parties and chocolate fountains. Tomorrow. Tonight, you’re going to join the campfire and at least make an attempt to have fun. Pretend if you have to.”

A handful of rocks suddenly hit my legs. She scowled at me. “You’re not my father. You don’t tell me what to do.”

“Did your father ever actually tell you what to do? Did he lay down any rules for his precious princess? Because it sure as hell seems like you’ve spent your whole life doing only what you want when you want. Branch out some. Don’t be such a spoiled brat.” I was on a roll. “Also, no more male strippers. Jesus, Georgia.”

She surprised me by snapping her mouth shut and nodding. When she did speak, the cold, hard look was back in her eyes. I could detect a sliver of pain, but she tried to hide it. “You’re closer to the truth than you know. You know what? I think I will try to have more fun tonight. That sounds perfect.”

I watched in horror as she dragged a bottle of tequila from her bag, a bottle I’d somehow managed to miss when she was repacking her clothes into my knapsack. I’d been too distracted by the tiny underwear. “You can’t drink on a survival tour, sugar.”

Her eyes flashed. “Try and stop me. And, stop calling me sugar. I’m not your sugar. I’m not your anything.”

I wanted to grab her and shake some sense into her but I didn’t trust myself not to actually shake her, so I kept my hands to myself. “Fine. Get drunk and then get yourself killed. Smart.”

She stood up, clutching at the pants I’d pulled onto her, and glared at me. “This conversation is over.”

I grabbed her arm as she tried to pass me and yanked her down, into my lap. “We’re not done here.”

She fought against my hold but it was useless. I wrapped one arm across her chest and another across her hips and tucked my chin into her neck so she wouldn’t be able to headbutt me. It didn’t take long for all the fight to drain out of her.

“I hate you right now.”

The words stung like a slap to the face. An ache formed in my chest that took away my breath and knocked the fight right out of me. I hadn’t thought things through enough. She could walk away from me. She was going to walk away from me. She didn’t fit into my life any more than I fit into hers. I’d marked a woman who wasn’t going to stay with me.

The realization struck me hard and I pushed her away from me while climbing to my feet. I needed to shift. I needed to run and roar and claw the shit out of something.

“You can find the group. I’ll be back later.”

I didn’t look back as I left. I just wanted to escape. I yanked my shirt off as I went and struggled to hold on, barely making it out of sight before shifting. My bear roared, his pain just as palpable as my own.

I’d spent the time she was unconscious planning how I was going to tell her about my bear, about shifters and ma tes, about everything. I knew she’d be freaked out, but I thought it would be okay. Turns out I worried needlessly. There was no point revealing my secrets to a woman who didn’t want me. She’s said it herself. She hated me.

I climbed to the highest point of the mountain and released another roar. My heart was breaking, cracking in two, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. My mate didn’t want me. Somehow, the universe had messed up.

I thought of my own parents and the awe with which Mom talked about being mated. She’d loved Dad with her whole heart and then some. I didn’t understand why things didn’t happen for me the way they had for them.  I guess sometimes it just didn’t work out.

CHAPTER 21: Georgia

“Everyone takes a swig. Them’s the rules, friends!” I laughed as I took yet another swig from the bottle and handed it off to Martha.

I’d been at the campfire for close to two hours. I knew because I’d been checking the time on my phone religiously. I’d dragged it out of the shelter once Wyatt had stomped off. I thought about calling Allie and telling her to come rescue me. I thought about calling the airport and scheduling a flight. Hell, I even thought about calling the cowboy who’d driven me into town and promising him anything he wanted if he could find me. Only, that last thought made me wretch after being with Wyatt. Plus, my phone still had no service, so I was just using it as a clock counting off the minutes that Wyatt had been away.

I’d hurt him. I knew it and I hated myself for it. It was for the  best, though. We weren’t going to work. He didn’t like me, not the real me. He wanted someone else. He was in denial about it but he’d realize it after I left.

“You going to pass that?” Sarah sneered at me. She wasn’t my biggest fan, but she loved tequila. She was covered in an oozing rash that made me want to rub myself with sandpaper.

I handed her the bottle and then turned back to the fire. “We need music. Music and dancing.”

“I have some music on my phone. I like to play it to go to sleep. It’s not very loud, though.” Bill spoke up.

I grinned. “Alrighty, this is my kind of surviving.”

I grabbed his phone and one of the metal cups connected to Martha’s pack. I started the music app and then slipped the phone into the cup, amping up the sound. Bill didn’t have any of the music I usually listened to, but he had some songs we could dance to. They were old, but they worked.

“Come on! Let’s survive my way!”

Bill threw up his hands. “What the hell! Wait until my wife hears about this!”

I laughed. Laughter was good. It meant I was having fun. Right? That’s what I’d always told myself back home. I was laughing and having a good time. So, I wasn’t missing anything. Nothing was missing from my life. I was perfectly fine. Just me. All by myself. I didn’t need anything or anyone.

Everyone eventually joined in, even Sarah. Although, she stuck to just drinking and nodding her head to the beat of the oldies. It was fun, so much fun that I almost forgot that I wasn’t in a beautiful hotel somewhere surrounded by movers, shakers, and trust-fund kids. The night sky was better mood lighting than anything I could’ve put together and the smell of the campfire created a buzz of excitement.

I managed to temporarily forget how miserable I was, and focus on the festive mood around me.  It wasn’t easy.  Every branch I heard snap, I jerked my head around to see if Wyatt was returning.  I wanted to see him. I wanted to feel his body against mine one last time. Maybe I was feeling the liquor more than I was admitting.

Martha brought out more marshmallows and one of the other men, Allen, cooked up what I decided was chicken, but was probably squirrel. I still wasn’t eating any of it, though. Instead, I munched on berries that Bill had picked earlier. The party was going strong.

My bottle was gone but someone had pulled out another one and it was going fast, too. I laughed until my sides hurt. Then, I laughed more. Laughter was the only way I knew of to keep everything out.

After another hour had passed, I sat down on a log and let my head fall back. “God, it’s beautiful up here.”

“It is, isn’t it? Wish I was enjoying it more.”

I looked over at Sarah, surprised to see that I’d ended up so close to her. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to push you. I didn’t even know it was you until I looked over the ledge.”

She was blitzed. Her eyes were barely open as she smiled, actually smiled, at me. “It’s okay. Everyone’s letting me drink more of the liquor because they feel sorry for me.”

I gave her a delicate high five and nodded. “I like the way you’re turning it into a positive.”

“He doesn’t care about me. I know that. I’m not stupid. I just wanted to get back at my boyfriend.” Her eyes filled up with tears and she coughed out a sob. “He’s been cheating on me for months. He doesn’t know I know. So, I came up here and I slept with Wyatt.”

My throat closed on a growl and I nodded, suddenly unable to articulate.

“I got back home and confessed to my boyfriend. You wanna know what he said?” She didn’t wait for me to answer. “He just shrugged his shoulders and asked me if I wanted a fucking trophy. He didn’t care!”

I winced. “He sounds like an dickface.”

“He is! He didn’t care that I’d slept around. He told me that he was glad because now he doesn’t have to feel so damn guilty about breaking up with me. He broke up with me!”

I patted the top of her head, the only part of her not covered in oozing rash. “You’re better off. He doesn’t deserve you.”

She sighed. “Am I? I came back here in a daze. I tried to hook up with Wyatt again. I made myself look like a psycho-stalker chick. I’m not a psycho-stalker. I just…  I feel…  I feel like I’m about to come unhinged. I was with him for seven years.”

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. I would hug you, but you’ve got the…” She cut her eyes to me and I abandoned that line of thought. “Anyway, you have every right to go a little crazy. No one would think any less of you for it after what you’ve been through. Plus, no one here really knows you, right? Maybe the forest isn’t the best place to heal from a broken heart. Maybe a salon and a giant box of chocolate would serve you much better.”

She dropped her head back and blew out a shaky breath. “I would love a salon. This stuff is great, but I can’t think straight right now, much less try to catch a damn rabbit for dinner.”

“They eat rabbits?!” My voice had gone up so high that the rest of the group turned to me, startled. I waved them away. “God, that is barbaric. Look, I’m leaving tomorrow. I’m going back down the mountain. I could use a guide to get there. You seem to know your way down. How about it? I’ll treat you to a salon experience to make up for my part in causing this rash…”

She stared at me, her eyes opening a little wider. “Sure. That would be nice.”

I patted her head again and then grabbed the bottle she’d been holding. “You’ve got a tour to lead down the mountain tomorrow. No more liquor for you.”

She pouted, but I ignored her. I was too busy noticing Wyatt from across the dancing flames of the campfire. He’d finally come back. And in no better spirits, from the downtrodden look on his face.

I wanted to go to him. I needed to make sure he was okay. I headed his way and managed to get my foot caught in the strap of Sarah’s pack. I went down hard, no one nearby to catch me, and landed with my face inches from the fire.

I scrambled back and sighed. “That was a close one.”

Time seemed to stand still as I glanced up and noticed everyone rushing towards me at the same time. I was about to freak out and scream at them to tell me what was going on when I smelled it. Burnt hair. I looked down. Correction. Burning hair.

CHAPTER 22: Wyatt

I couldn’t get the sight out of my head. Georgia, standing there with her heart on her sleeve, looking like she wanted to run to me. Then, Georgia standing there with the ends of her hair going up in smoke. I’d rushed over to her, but she’d still lost a lot of hair. A lot of it. The ends were fried and blackened and smelled terrible. It oddly complemented the purple bruise and red scratches on her face. Not to mention the other scrapes and bruises covering her.

When she passed out, again, I’d carried her back to my shelter and tucked her in. I couldn’t help crawling under the blanket with her and wrapping my arms around her. She’d had a hell of a couple of days. I’d never seen a person more incompatible with the wilderness.

She’d entered my life with pretty, manicured nails and salon-perfect hair all shiny with expensive highlights and lowlights. I was giving her back to Allie broken and beaten with cuts, scratches, bruises and badly singed hair. I felt like a fool. I’d marked a woman who couldn’t have been farther from what I needed. I had to let her go and I knew that there was a chance I’d lose my mind. Mates were supposed to stay together. They were supposed to mesh. Like Thorn and Allie. They made sense. Like Mom and Dad. They made sense, too.

Pain ate away at me until I couldn’t remain beside her anymore. I got up and sat outside the shelter, leaned against the mountain wall behind me. Sleep escaped me and I struggled with my thoughts until the morning sun started to peek out over the top of the mountain.

I carried myself to the stream and washed up before heading back to my shelter to check on Georgia.

I found her bent over her pack, her charred hair pulled back in a short ponytail. She was shoving stuff into the knapsack while simultaneously holding her head and then her back.

“You okay?”

She jumped and then groaned. “No. I’m not okay. I’m going home.”

My bear roared at me to stop her. He demanded that I make her want us. Even though I knew it was useless, I gave it one last, lame try. “You giving up?”

Her eyes were damn near death-ray lasers as she turned to me. “Look at me, Wyatt. Look at me! I’m a mess. I need to get out of here before I kill myself. I lit my head on fire last night! I don’t belong up here. I don’t belong with…”

“Me.” I finished for her. “You don’t belong with me.”

A flash of emotion pricked her eyes. Pain? “I don’t. I need to go. I need to go back to something I recognize.”

I wanted to fight. Even though I knew she was right, it was hard to just let go. It was obvious how out of place she was. It would never work. I was on the mountain nearly year-round. She’d be alone and miserable in town. She would never be happy with me.

Her hands fisted at her side and she nodded. “Okay. I’m going. Thanks for the fun, Wyatt.”

I caught her arm and nearly doubled over at the hope in her eyes. She wanted me to fight for her. I wouldn’t force her to stay, though. “How are you getting down the mountain?”

She jerked away from me and headed off. “Sarah is taking me. Have a good rest of your tour.”

I let her go.

I let her leave me standing there, with the gaping hole that had just been ripped out of my chest.

I sucked. The situation sucked. Fucking life sucked.

I yanked my shelter down and threw my pack against the rock wall.  Anger and frustration threatened to take me to my knees as I felt her move farther and farther away from me.  I wondered how it would feel when she was over a thousand miles away. Would I still hurt like this? Would I still hate myself?

*

The group was in fine form that morning. The ones who weren’t hungover were visibly disappointed to learn that Georgia was gone. Martha, especially. I could see her disappointment with me on her face. She was disappointed in me for allowing Georgia to leave. What the fuck was I supposed to do?

I was about to send everyone out to gather more food when I felt something in me shift oddly. I could suddenly feel fear, and it wasn’t my own.  I knew instantly it was Georgia. Something was frightening her. I took off running. I didn’t know how far she’d gotten down the mountain, it couldn’t have been far, but I had to get to her fast.

I didn’t pause to undress before I shifted, leaving my clothes in tatters. I galloped headlong towards whatever had scared her badly enough for it to have reached me through the mate bond. I smelled her and heard her before I saw her.

“Dammit, Wyatt, what are you doing? You’re scaring me!”

My stomach dropped and I stumbled. Who was she talking to?

“I know I should’ve told you that I knew but it doesn’t matter now anyway! For god’s sakes, stop. You’re being an ass!”

I cleared the tree line and found her, one hand on her hip, wagging a finger right in the face of a massive black bear sow. The bear wasn’t a shifter, and from the scent, I could tell she was protecting her cubs. There weren’t a lot of wild bears in the area, but they did pass through occasionally. It was just Georgia’s luck that she’d run into one—a momma protecting her babies, no less.

I roared, deep and loud, and circled around the bear. I had her full attention, thank god. I was praying Georgia would run, but she didn’t. She hunched over and started dragging an unconscious Sarah farther away.

I was bigger and stronger than the sow, but I wasn’t a fool. Nothing was more dangerous than a momma guarding her babies. She’d be more than willing to fight to the death to protect them and I wanted Georgia farther away in case anything happened to me, but she wasn’t budging.

My time circling with the bear was done. She lunged at me and I found myself in a fight with one fierce, frightened momma bear. A fight I didn’t want to lose, but had no interest in winning, either.

CHAPTER 23: Georgia

It was all the evidence one would need to prove that some people just could not survive in the wilderness. I’d managed to stumble on what was probably the only full grown bear for miles around who wasn’t a shifter. How the hell did I know that wasn’t Wyatt? I’d lectured it, scolded it, stomped my foot at it, and even pointed my finger in its face. Then, when Wyatt had actually shown up, I’d immediately known. It was weird but I could feel him in his bear. He was majestic to watch. As large as the first bear was, Wyatt was even larger. His coat was thick and shiny, silky. There were sun-kissed streaks in his fur, just like in Wyatt’s hair. His bear even had the same beautiful golden brown eyes.

I didn’t have time to admire him, though. I grabbed Sarah and dragged her away from the impending fight. She’d passed out cold at the sight of the bear and was dead weight as I dragged her by the armpits. I kept my eyes on the bears, wondering what was going to happen.

Wyatt circled and dodged swipes, careful to keep himself safe, but he never attacked. He just let it come at him again and again. He wasn’t trying to hurt it, at all. He was tiring it out, it seemed.

Martha suddenly appeared beside me, naked as the day she was born.  I averted my eyes and focused them back on the fight, offering her the sweater I had on.

“Keep it, honey. We need to get you out of here. Wyatt’s going to be distracted if you’re standing here in the way of danger.”

I swung my face back to her. “You know?”

“Course I know. I’m like him. Only a little different. Come on, Georgia. Grab Sarah’s legs. Let’s get out of here.”

“I don’t want to leave him. What if he gets hurt?”

Wyatt roared in my direction and I jumped. “Okay, let’s go.”

We pulled Sarah as far away as we could before the terrain got too rough to carry her. Then, we settled her against a large rock and waited for her to come to.

“What was that? Who was that other bear? Why was it so angry?”

“Honey, you stumbled on a momma bear who was agitated and upset. She was just protecting her cubs. Wyatt will wear her down and then run her off. He won’t hurt her.”

I swallowed and patted Sarah’s cheeks. “Come on, Sarah. Wake-y, wake-y.”

“Why are you leaving?”

I met Martha’s eyes and fought the urge to cry. She’d taken better care of me in the few days I’d been on the mountain than my own mother had during my entire childhood. Her very presence made me want to breakdown and tell her everything. “I don’t belong here.”

“That boy is a damned fool.”

I shook my head. “It’s not even his fault, really. Whoever arranges these mate bonds just got it wrong this time. I’m sure it’s happened before.”

“He needs to fix this with you. Mate bonds don’t happen by mistake. They’re special and fated. If you two are mates, it’s for a reason.”

I sent a little prayer of gratitude up when Sarah started coming to. I patted her cheek again and then wiped it on my shorts. I felt bad, but she was still covered in rash.

“What happened?”

I sighed. Too much. Everything. Nothing. “There was a bear attack.  Wyatt and Martha came to save us.”

Sarah turned her head towards Martha and gasped when she was face to face with Martha’s naked chest. “Where are your clothes?”

Martha laughed. “Lost them in a bear fight.”

Sarah, still groggy and shaken, seemed to accept that. She took a few steadying breaths and then her eyes widened as she stared off at something over my shoulder. “He must’ve lost his, too.”

I turned to find a furious, and very naked Wyatt standing over me. I quickly stood up to avoid getting smacked in the face with his junk. “Are you okay?”

He grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the two women. “You knew!”

“So, you’re okay, then?”

“You knew what I was and you knew that we’re mates.”

I stared up at him, a mixture of desire and sorrow warring inside. “I knew.”

His expression contorted in pain and he pushed me away from him like my touch disgusted him. “You knew and you still walked away from me?”

I steeled myself and drew together every ounce of aloof indifference that I possessed to muster a blank expression. I hoped my expression masked my anger that had temporarily replaced my pain. “You knew and you let me walk away.”

He gritted his teeth, jaw muscles twitching furiously. I noticed his hands were white-knuckled, balled in fists at his side and his eyes were hard. His mouth had snapped shut, forming a hard line signifying he was done talking. He’d gotten what he needed to say out and that was that, apparently.

I turned and walked back over to Sarah, who was staring at Wyatt’s body. I resisted the urge to smack her. “You still want to go into town with me?”

She looked up at me and must’ve seen something that she recognized. Heartbreak. She nodded and pulled herself up. “Come on. You owe me a spa day. A much needed spa day.”

Martha glared at Wyatt over my head and then looked back at me.  “I’m coming down with you two. Start down without me and I’ll catch up when I have my bag and clothes.”

I didn’t look back at Wyatt. I just nodded and pulled my knapsack on with shaking hands. I was close to sobbing and throwing myself on the ground. The heartache I was drowning in was too much. Actual physical pain radiated from my chest and I rubbed at the spot.

Sarah caught my hand and squeezed. “It’ll be okay.”

I tried to smile but a tear fell instead. I helped her get her pack on and then we headed down the mountain, without looking back.

“As much as I need this spa day, you need it just as bad. Have you seen your hair yet?”

Maybe I would smack her after all.

CHAPTER 24: Wyatt

“We’re going to check the traps and see if we can’t catch some fish.  You interested in coming?”

I looked up at Bill, surprised to find the man standing in front of me. I hadn’t even heard him approach. “Nah. I’m good here.”

He shook his head and chuckled. “Yeah, I can see that. When’s the last time you bathed, son? You smell like a wild animal.”

I looked down at myself and shrugged. What the hell did it matter? “I’m good, Bill.”

He clamped his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Are you sure you want to be here instead of chasing that girl of yours?”

I growled and he held up his hands. “Forget I said anything. We’ll be back at the campfire in a few hours, probably.”

I watched him go and winced as my bear retreated farther into me. He was a moody sonofabitch. It’d been two days since we’d watched Georgia go and he was throwing a tantrum. He didn’t get it. She’d known about what I was. The worrying I’d done had been for nothing. She’d known and she was still okay with leaving me.

I swore and stood up, ready to pace a canyon in the mountain. My bear wasn’t the only moody asshole. I felt like screaming at anyone who approached me. I’d lost any semblance of professionalism. When the men suggested we stay a day longer, I’d just nodded. It was better to be away from town, anyway. Away from prying eyes and Georgia’s scent. Away from anyone who could take one look at me and see what a sorry excuse I was.

I sat back down and held my head in my hands. I went back and forth between feeling angry enough to chase Georgia down and shake her and feeling devastated enough to forget who I was and just cry. She’d knocked me on my ass. Not that she gave a shit.

I kicked my pack away from me and groaned. I was going insane. My bear didn’t care about any of it. He just wanted to go to our mate. He wanted to grab her and scoop her up and do anything she wanted him to. He was a soft piece of fluff, that was for sure. He didn’t care about who was right and who was wrong. It was simpler than that for him. There was no gray. Just mate.

For the millionth time, I wondered if she was already gone. Had she already left Burden? She’d probably run back to the city as soon as she could get a ride. I didn’t know how it felt for a human to walk away from her mate. Was she was hurting like I was, or did she just consider it another failed attempt at romance. Maybe she was fine.

Deep down, I knew through the mate bond that connected us, she wasn’t fine. No matter how much I didn’t want it right now, the bond was there and I could feel a constant ache from her end. I hadn’t known that it was her pain and not my own at first. It was only when my own feelings swung towards anger and betrayal that I noticed that the pain stayed constant, like a mourning cry that never ceased. She was hurting. It never wavered. It never faded.

The realization was enough to take me to my knees. My mate was hurting. But she wasn’t my mate. There’d been a mistake. At least that was what I told myself again and again.

Then again, we’d bonded. I stood up and resumed my pacing. I knew the story about Thorn’s Mom. Her mate had abandoned her and she’d gone crazy. She had slowly withered away and eventually, it killed her. By the time she went, she was barely a human anymore. I wondered if that would happen to me. Was that what I had to look forward to? Losing my mind, and slowly dying? Mom would have to bury me. Would she survive the loss of her mate and her only son?

The pain rippled through me until I shifted and sank down on all fours. My bear refused to run, refused to do anything. He just sat there, staring at the ground.

“Good to see one side of you has sense enough to be depressed about this shit.”

I shifted back as soon as I realized Thorn was standing a few yards away from me.  Yet again, I hadn’t heard nor smelled anyone approach. I grabbed shorts from my bag and pulled them on. “What are you doing here?”

He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head.  “You look like shit.”

I shrugged. “So I’m told. Shouldn’t you be at home enjoying your mate?”

“You don’t get to sound bitter and jealous when you have a mate of your own who’s sitting in my kitchen crying her eyes out. You fucking dumbass. All that talk about wanting a mate and knowing that you’d accept her with open arms when she came along and then you pull this shit?”

I hit my chest and stepped closer to him. “I did accept her! She didn’t accept me. She left!”

He just rolled his eyes. “I never knew you were such a selfish fuck, Wyatt. I thought you were one of the only ones of us who didn’t have his head so far up his ass he couldn’t see the rest of the world. I was wrong. Here you sit, knowing your mate is in pain, and still you put your own shit above her. You let that woman leave and you’re as good as dead, man. You need her.”

I rolled my eyes. “She doesn’t want to be here. She hated it. This is where I live. This is my life. She hates it, completely! She wants to be in the city. What can I do with that? Someone fucked up. The universe messed up when assigning mates. The two of us were never meant to be.”

Thorn threw his hands the air. “I came to try to talk some sense into you, but clearly you’re beyond that. You’re stupid enough to claim she isn’t your real mate after you marked her. That’s beyond what I can help with. You’ve been my best friend for as long as I can remember, Wyatt, but this is the first time I’ve seen you act so cowardly. The woman tried to fit in with you. Yeah, she is a city girl, yet she tried to do this wilderness shit. What’d you try for her? Is she just supposed to change everything about herself to suit your needs, yet you get to just go on as usual, la-de-dah, ‘cause heaven forbid you make sacrifices for her? You don’t want a mate, you want a fucking ball of clay, ready to be molded to whatever it is you need.”

I charged him before I knew what I was doing. My shoulder hit him square in the chest and we both went flying backwards. It’d been ages since we’d fought but neither of us took long remembering how to inflict pain on the other. It was only after I took an elbow to the head that I flopped back on my back and stared up at the bright sky.

“I’m lost, man. We don’t fit. We couldn’t be more different.”

He punched me once more in the side and then leaned against a tree trunk. “Maybe you need something different, man. You spend almost every waking hour on this mountain. You’re more bear than man. Maybe you need to be reminded that you’re not just some wild animal, living out on his own. Maybe, just maybe, you need to join the human race more. And if anything, that woman will make sure you live your life to the fullest.”

I looked over at him and rubbed my hand down my face. “What’s she been doing?”

He growled. “She’s gotten my mate shitfaced for the past two nights. They danced on my fucking bar. Hell, she had half the women in town dancing on my bar. She refuses to listen to the jukebox and plays hip hop. I’m losing my mind. When she isn’t drinking herself silly, she’s sobbing. In my house. With my mate. I haven’t gotten close to Allie in days. You need to get it together and come get your mate from my house. She’s driving me insane.”

I closed my eyes against the wave of pain that hit me. “She has a tendency to do that to a man.”

CHAPTER 25: Georgia

I tipped the bottle of champagne and looked around the salon. Every chair in the place was full and music was pumping through the speakers. Cups were emptying at a steady pace, and requests had quickly gone from simple blowouts and highlights to rainbow colors and wild haircuts. Inhibitions were gone. Brandi and Samantha had their hands full with over half the women in Burden wanting to branch out and get in touch with their wild sides.

I’d needed to get out of Thorn’s house, so I’d organized a salon party. Crying on his couch was getting to both him and me, and Burden was sorely lacking in the party department, so I’d waged a party march on Brandi and Samantha. I’d needed to get my hair fixed anyway. I looked back at Brandi and smiled.

“I’ve decided. Cut it to here and add some highlights. Why not?” I thought of Wyatt’s sun-kissed hair and hiccuped out a sob. “Forget the highlights.”

Fortunately, she’d gotten used to my sudden outbursts of tears. “Honey, we don’t have to cut it so short. I can just trim off the burned bits.”

I shook my head. “I want a change. It’s new and improved Georgia now. All-new, all-improved. Starting with the hair.”

Sarah looked over at me. Another woman was brushing some sort of soothing avocado mask over her skin. Her eyes watered and she drained her cup. “We should open some sort of women’s-only salon bar. Just us, drinking, having fun, and getting beauty treatments. Maybe talking shit about the jackass men in our lives. This is good for us. Letting it all out.”

I hadn’t even begun to let it all out. Not yet. I had stuff eating away at me that I was saving for the next guy who tried to play around with my heart. If there ever was a next guy. I couldn’t even imagine another man right now without my heart throbbing in agony. “I’ve figured it out. I’m going to be a lesbian from now on. Forget men. Forget Wyatt.”

Cheers rose and then tapered off as they realized I was crying again. Allie came over from where she’d been getting a blue streak put into her hair.

pea-brain. He can’t actually let you walk away. He marked you.”

I waved my hand and settled back into my chair. “I don’t want to talk about him. I just want Brandi to cut my hair off and then we’ll all go to The Cave and drink some more and I’ll find myself a girlfriend to settle down with. No more letting my heart take walks on its own. My heart is grounded and that’s final.”

She laughed. “Okay. We’ll do it your way for a little while longer.”

We all continued to drink, continued to bitch about men, and continued to make rash decisions about our hairstyles. Much needed change was in the air.

By the time we got to the bar that night, we were already drunk and feeling more than a little crazy. Abram, looked up at us from behind the bar with wide eyes and held up his hands.

“Ladies, please, keep it together tonight, okay?” His eyes landed on me. “You have power, Georgia, and I’d appreciate if tonight you used it for good instead of evil for a change.”

I laughed and hip bumped Allie. “Did you hear that? I have power.”

She grinned at the older man and patted his cheek. “We’ll be good, Abram. I promise that no one will break anything tonight. Isn’t that right, Ronnie?”

The quiet woman blushed and licked her lips. “It was an accident. I slipped off the edge of the bar. I had to catch myself on the light.”

I threw my head back in a fit of giggles. She had really let loose. I was hoping she did again tonight. She deserved to have fun. “You did what you had to do, girl.”

We got set up at a couple of tables in the back and the night went much like the past two nights had gone. Laughing and drinking and talking turned to dancing and more laughing. I knew I was avoiding an issue that I’d have to deal with eventually, but for one night, I wanted to feel okay.

I slipped behind the bar and turned the country rock music off before replacing it with a dance mix. Some of the cowboys in the back grumbled until they noticed all the women swarming to the dance floor. Before too long, it was an all-out bash.

I spotted Allie on the dance floor, and headed in her direction when a warm hand wrapped itself around my wrist. I stared in momentary confusion, before recognition set in. “Cowboy!”

He pulled me into his body and hugged me. “Pretty lady. I was hoping I’d run into you tonight.”

I hated the way my body cringed at his touch. He wasn’t the man my body craved, and the little bitch would accept no substitutes. I blew out a rough breath and ran a hand through my new chin length hair. “Here I am. What are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “I had the night off and thought I’d drive down to see what was happening.”

I nodded. “Well, it was good to see you. I’m having a girl’s night or I’d hang more.”

He looked disappointed, but smiled. “I’ll be sticking around tonight. Find me.”

I headed back to our empty table and sat down. The girls were all on the floor, dancing, but I suddenly didn’t feel like it. I felt more like crawling into bed and yanking the covers over my head. I’d been forcing everyone to party with me, trying to forget that I felt like there was a bottomless pit in my chest, but the tactic was losing its effectiveness.

The system I’d been using since I was young had failed me. I hadn’t been able to keep Wyatt at arm’s length and instead I’d fallen hard for the man. Everything about me had changed in a matter of days. Apparently, the men in my life weren’t any different, though, because it had only taken Wyatt a couple of days to be finished with me.

The thought gnawed at me until I couldn’t sit still. I got up and headed towards the exit. I needed fresh air and a break from myself.

“Hey, you heading out?” The cowboy caught me again when I was a few steps from the door.

“Just getting some air is all.” I had hoped to slip out alone, but damned if he didn’t follow me out. I stepped down from the porch and gazed up at the vibrant stars.

“You okay?”

I didn’t look back at him. “Yeah. Just thinking about how pretty it is around here.”

“You thinking of staying?”

I sighed while I pondered that. A part of me did want to stay. At least for a little while. I liked the women I’d met. I missed Allie when we didn’t live nearby. But, then there was Wyatt. I didn’t know if I could run into him and not die a little each time. “I don’t know.”

He grabbed my hand and tugged me around to face him. He was too close. “Come here.”

I pressed my hands against his chest and pushed away. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Sure, it is.”

I was just about to tell the guy, in no uncertain terms, to get lost when a vicious sounding roar echoed from behind us. I looked back and saw the massive sun-streaked bear coming our way.

The cowboy broke away from me and backed up. “Run!”

I couldn’t help but think that he had the right idea.

CHAPTER 26: Wyatt

I was going to kill the slimy asshole who’d touched my mate. I was going to rip his arms off and beat him to death with them. I charged towards him, happy he’d run. My bear loved a good chase. He’d tried to kiss Georgia, even though she’d been pushing him away. He was as good as dead.

Georgia stepped into my path as I neared and I almost ran her over. When I snarled down at her angrily for getting in my way, I watched her eyes become saucers before rolling to the back of her head. Her mouth fell open and she toppled backwards, flat on her back.

Fuck! The woman fainted more than anyone I ever met. I shifted and scooped her into my arms. “What am I going to do with you, sugar?”

“You hurt her again and I’ll skin you alive, Wyatt Drexel.” Allie had come out and was glaring at me. “She’s good here. If you run her out of town, you’ll have every woman in Burden to answer to.”

I rolled my eyes. “She’s not going anywhere.”

Allie’s face lit up. “Good. Tell her that we gals voted her in as our official party planner. She can’t leave.”

I didn’t care much for their parties and to hear Thorn tell it, he’d rather they didn’t exist. I nodded to Allie, though, and turned to head home with my mate.

I heard Thorn lecturing Allie before I made it out of range. “You can’t just stand there and talk to a naked man like that. You’re mine. You’re not supposed to look at other men.”

Allie laughed. “Calm down, you big ol’ bear. Seeing and looking are two different things. Let’s go inside and see if we can’t find an empty bathroom. Hows about that?”

I held Georgia tighter to my chest and hurried home. I had a lot to say to her and I was betting that none of it was going to be easy. That was one thing I could bank on with   my feisty little mate. Nothing about her was easy. Nothing would probably ever be easy.

I made it to my house and toed open the door before kicking it shut and then settling on my couch with Georgia held tightly in my arms. “Wake up, sugar. We need to talk.”

She moaned against my bare shoulder, sending tingles of pleasure coursing through me. “Wyatt.”

I held her tighter and cursed myself for being a giant fucking blockhead. I’d gone to Mom’s house after leaving my group on the mountain in the capable hands of Bill. Martha was still visiting Mom, and the two of them supported Thorn’s argument, reiterating just how selfish I’d been.

I knew I was wrong and I couldn’t imagine there being a worse thing to be wrong about. I’d hurt my mate.

“Wyatt?” Georgia’s voice was confused and weak as she lifted her head. “Wyatt? Where are we?”

I pressed my lips to her temple. “My house. You fainted so I brought you here. How do you feel?”

She groaned. “Like I drank too much. Clearly, way too much. This dream feels entirely too real.”

“Sugar, you’re not dreaming.” I stroked her hair. “I came to talk to you and saw that piece of shit trying to put his hands on you. I’m not finished with him yet either.”

She sat up a little and looked around. I tried to picture my place through her eyes—a wooden cabin devoid of any knick-knacks, sparsely furnished with too many windows to ever really feel warm inside. Her eyes moved back to me and then she scooted off my lap. “Why did you bring me here?”

I instantly missed her body and had to fight to keep my hands to myself. “I needed to talk to you.”

Her pouty lips turned down and she tugged at the hemline of her dress. I struggled to suppress the growl in my chest. It was too short for her to be wearing around town when I wasn’t there. It hugged her curves and left my mouth watering. I wanted to rip it over her head and devour her whole.

“What do you want to talk about?”

“First, how do you feel? You went out like a light. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Her cheeks brightened. “I drank on an empty stomach. Haven’t felt much like eating, I guess. And you shocked me. I wasn’t expecting you to show up while I was still in town.”

“Thorn told me you’ve been throwing parties. He’s more than a little distraught. Allie told me to tell you that you were voted the official party planner, though. She seems excited.”

“Lot of good that’ll do me when I go back home. Look, I’m sorry you had to come to my rescue. Again. I’m fine, though. I’ll go.”

I stood up and blocked the door, not caring that I was still naked. “We haven’t talked yet.”

She waved her hands around. “I don’t care. I don’t need to be formally dumped or whatever, Wyatt. I just want to go.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “You might want to listen to what I have to say first.”

She looked at me and then jerked her face away. “Could you put some pants on? A shirt, too.”

I laughed. Things were lighter for me since I’d realized what a sonofabitch I’d been. Once I realized that I was the biggest problem here, there was nothing I wouldn’t do to win her back. “I don’t plan on needing them for a while.”

“What are you talking about?”

I stalked towards her. “I was wrong. I was a dumbfuck for letting you go. I was an dumbfuck for making you stay. I tried to force you into my life, even if just for a couple of days, and I didn’t stop to ask you what you wanted. I let myself think that because you didn’t fit perfectly into my life the way it was, that we didn’t belong together. I was stupid and blind. Too stupid to realize that I was the one who needed to compromise, and too blind to see how much you were trying.”

She met my eyes and absently reached up to tug at the shorter strands of her hair. She looked amazing. The shorter length revealed the smooth delicate expanse of creamy neck.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t treat you the way you deserved and I made you feel bad and that makes me the biggest dumbfuck on the planet. I just saw my parents and how easy it was for them to live together. I thought it should’ve naturally been that easy between us. I never stopped to consider that it wasn’t like that at first for them.

“My mom corrected me. Told me I was an asshole, which was probably the first time I’d ever heard her cuss. She told me that nothing had been easy for them at first. My dad was like me, more bear than man. He’d spent all his time hiding on the mountain. My mom liked the city. She spent her weekends in Dallas, going out with her girlfriends and exploring.”

The shy way that Georgia spoke next shot an arrow through my heart. “How did they make it work?”

I stepped closer to her. “My dad learned to wear clean shirts and shoes more than a day or two a week. My mom learned to love the wild in Dad and with Dad. They met in the middle.”

“What if there isn’t a middle for us?”

The question forced my hand. I threw caution out the window and scooped up my sad little mate.

CHAPTER 27: Georgia

Wyatt grabbed me and picked me up before carrying me back to his couch. He sat with me in his lap, straddling his thighs. I barely had time to blink before he covered my mouth with his and parted my lips with his tongue. It wasn’t like his other kisses; this one held desperation. He used his lips and tongue to convince me that we could make it work. He put everything in that kiss and I felt my heart melting.

“We’re mates. There are no mistakes. You are mine. I will follow you wherever you go. I will move to the city with you if I have to. I will do whatever it takes.”

My throat squeezed as tears filled my eyes. “It’s not real. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The issues that I had been stuffing down finally came to the surface and what spewed out and wasn’t pretty. “I lied. I lied about having my dad around and giving people their weekends off because I’d wanted more time with him. The truth was I only ever saw him a handful of times in my entire life. Each, while he was leaving my mom’s bedroom. He didn’t care about me, didn’t want me. The only reason I got the business was because somehow, he died without a will. He’d never drawn one up, and there was no one else.

“His lawyers made me do a paternity test because they hadn’t realized he even had a kid. He didn’t keep pictures of me on his desk, or brag about me to his friends. He didn’t love me. No man ever has. I’m unlovable. I ruin things and I’m too high maintenance. I spend too much time thinking and men leave. Even my mate didn’t want me. You knew it. You wanted to run. If you really think about it, you’ll still want to. There’s something wrong with me, Wyatt.”

When I tried to get away from him, he tightened his hold and held me until I quit fighting him. “It kills me to know that you feel that way about yourself, Georgia. And that I made it worse. I will spend my life convincing you that this is real, that I want to be with you, that I love you.”

I froze. “What?”

He laughed and pulled my head down until it was on his shoulder. “I said I love you. Because I do. I love you, Georgia. I think it started the moment I saw you. Then, I realized it again when you were fussing at that bear like you’d lost your damned mind. My world narrowed to that moment and I knew that if anything happened to you, I’d die, too.”

“You don’t know me, Wyatt.”

“Yes, I do. I know that you’re kind—to other people anyway, funny, fierce, sexy as hell, and so fucking alive that everyone around you can’t help but feel it. I’m fucking lucky to have you as my mate.”

Tears were falling faster now. My heart was daring to hope, but knowing how easily it could get crushed again made my palms sweaty and my lungs struggle for air. “How can this work? You practically live on the mountain. I can’t do that every week with you. I don’t have that much hair to lose.”

Wyatt wiped my tears away. “I’ll shorten the trips. Only do longer ones on special occasions. Seeing the party you threw around the campfire gave me some ideas, too. Maybe you could come up for a night or two. If you wanted to. You liked the fishing. We could do that and then you could put together something fun at night.”

I blinked at him. “Something fun?”

He shrugged. “Whatever you want. A party or whatever. Everyone loved having you there. The guys kept talking about how much they wished you were on every trip they made. I know you can’t do that and I won’t ask you to. Maybe we can work something out, though.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes, Georgia, I am. You and me. It’s happening. Forever.”

I shook my head. “I have to go back home for meetings sometimes. I have to… I have stuff there. I… I’ve never done anything like this. You’re going to get tired of me. I’m no good at stuff like this. I stare too much and I get quiet and I get bitchy and I… I’m just not good.”

“Do you like this dress?”

I looked down at it and shrugged. “It’s okay. Why?”

He grabbed the neck and effortlessly ripped the silky material down the middle of my chest. He ignored my scream of shock and tore it completely down the middle until it fell to my sides. “You aren’t supposed to wear little things like this when I’m not around to growl at every man who looks your way.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and felt a little bit of annoyance flare up. “I do what I want. Also, it’s not just men you have to worry about. While you were still up on that mountain, I decided that I’m going to go for women from now on. Men are too much work.”

He growled. “You’re mine, Georgia. Didn’t you hear me? I love you. No other men. No women. Only me.”

I gasped as he took my hips in his hands and pulled me harder into his body. I felt every inch of his hard erection pressing into me and bit back a moan. I wanted him. I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anything, and in a different way than I was used to. Long term relationship kind of want.

“What if it doesn’t work?”

His eyes softened. “It will. I will do anything for you.” He buried his face in the crook of my neck and shoulder and inhaled deeply. “You don’t have to be scared, Georgia. This is it. You have a man in your life who is going to fight for you, who will not let another second go by without you knowing how much he loves you, who will help you see that you’re the best damn thing that’s ever happened to him. This is going to work. I swear to you.”

My heart felt like it was going to explode in my chest.  There was hardly enough room in there for the emotions that Wyatt was stirring in me. Forever. Forever with the man in front of me. I looked at him, at the raw desire in his eyes that obliterated the fear and self-loathing that had been threatening to strangle me over the past few days. “Yes. I want this.”

His grin was wicked. “It was never a question, sugar. I’m not letting you go.”

CHAPTER 28: Wyatt

I pulled Georgia’s face down to mine and held her there, a breath away from the kiss that I needed. “I’ll spend my life making sure you forget every worry you ever had that I could leave you.”

Her eyes fluttered shut and a soft sigh fell from her lips. “We can live here.”

I leaned back and watched her. She was stunning. I ran my fingers through her hair and rubbed the ends between my fingers. “I like it like this. It’s sexy.”

She pressed her cheek into my hand and gave me a soft smile. “I’ll have to go back every so often for a few days at a time to sign off on things.  I like it here, though.”

“We’ll have to go back. You’re stuck with me from now on.”

“Okay.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “Okay?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Just…be easy with me, okay? If you do get sick of me, just give me some warning.”

I stood up, wrapping her legs around my waist as I did. I carried her into my bedroom and placed her gently down on the bed. “One day, you’ll see that you’re stuck with me for good. I don’t deserve you, but I’m not questioning it anymore. I’m just going to take.”

Her hair fanned out around her and I hovered over to rub my face against it. Her hands held my sides, her fingertips pressing into my skin harder as I brushed my lips over her ear.

“You smell like the berries from the mountain. Fresh, wild, and a little dangerous. You taste that way, too. One kiss and I have a boner as hard as a rock. You do that to me.”

She reached higher and wrapped her hands around my neck. Her back arched and her chest rubbed against mine. “Keep talking to me. I feel like I’m going to go up in flames.”

“I want to spend the rest of my life waking up next to you. Waking up in the middle of the night, in the morning, from naps, here, there, wherever.”

I pressed my weight into her and trailed my hand from her throat down to her hip. “I’m going to make sure there isn’t a day that goes by that you don’t know what I feel for you.”

She moaned when I pressed into her harder. “Even when I’m old and wrinkled?”

I dipped my head and ran my tongue over my mark on her shoulder.  When she shivered under me, I slipped my hand between our bodies and down the front of her lacy panties and slid a finger into her soft, wet folds.

“Even when you’re old and wrinkled. Even when you stare at me too long and I start to wonder if there’s something on my face. Even when you’re a little bitchy. Even if you burn the rest of your hair off.”

Her laugh turned into a moan as I used the heel of my palm to rub against her clit as I worked my finger in and out of her core.  She pressed her head back into the pillow and tried to widen her legs. “Wyatt. More.”

I nipped her collarbone and then lowered my mouth until I could take one of her nipples into my mouth. I sucked hard, sliding another finger into her, stretching her and readying her body for me.

Georgia’s fingernails bit into my back as she gasped. Her body tightened around my fingers and she lifted her thighs to wrap them around me. “I want you in me. I want you, Wyatt. Always.”

I bit her nipple and then soothed it with my tongue before moving up to her mouth. I’d been a fool, but I wanted her forever. I loved her.

“I’m so close!” Her lips parted and her eyes squeezed shut as I shifted my fingers slightly. She clamped down around my fingers as her pussy started to pulsate. Her nails dragged down my back and then she clamped her teeth closed on my neck.

I gritted my teeth and quickly ripped her panties off. When I sunk into her, her teeth scraped down my skin and then she was gasping for air.

“I love you, too,” she whispered in my ear.

My chest threatened to split in two, my heart was beating so fast. Hearing her say that she loved me was the single most powerful moment of my life.

“I want forever.  I want…you.  This…  Forever.”  Her voice was broken as her body continued to convulse under me.

I stopped moving, desperate to last longer. Hearing her say those things to me put me way too close to the precipice. “You’re going to make me embarrass myself.  Fuck, Georgia.”

She opened her eyes and met mine in a fierce stare that took my breath. “I want to feel you come. I want you to feel as good as you make me feel.”

I was gone as soon as she said those words, but then she tightened around me and it was over. I thrust into her a few more times and then I came hard. I buried my face in her neck and breathed in her scent as I tried to recover.

“Forever.”

I rolled onto my side, taking her body with me so she was curled against my chest. “Nothing less.”

Her arms still held me and she slowly stroked my back as she pressed sweet kisses into my chest. “I was miserable at the idea of leaving.”

“Me too, sugar. Letting you walk away was the hardest, and dumbest, thing I’ve ever done. I don’t plan on making that mistake again.”

She smiled into my skin. “I’m going to start some kind of women’s club.”

I furrowed my brow. “Huh?”

“I heard all about your little boy’s club. You and the guys sit at the same table and you talk guy talk and do things together and you’re tight. The women don’t have that. We’re going to, though. We’re going to have our own table and we’re going to rule that bar.”

I sighed like it was a hassle, but secretly I was more than enjoying the idea. Georgia was not only staying, but she was putting her mark on the place. “I’m sure Thorn will love that plan.”

“I’ll go up the mountain with you some, too. Not too much. I’m really bad at it. I did like the fishing, though. And the party. I had fun making everyone happy.” She blinked up at me. “When I come, can we have a real tent?”

I groaned. “Sugar, I lead a survival tour. If I’m the only one in a tent, I’m going to look like a pus-”

“Wyatt.”

“Sure. We can sleep in a real tent when you’re there.”

She grinned and I felt my world move. “Thank you.”

I would do anything to keep that smile on her face. Even if it meant being wrapped around her finger and sleeping in a tent that smelled like plastic. Anything to make sure she knew that she was loveable and loved. Forever.

THE END

Thank you for purchasing this book. I hope you enjoyed it.

I have included several BONUS STORIES that I hope you’ll enjoy! But first, please enjoy an excerpt from Book 1 of my Kodiak Island Shifters series entitled Billionaire’s Bride. If you like the sample, you can download the full book by using the link provided at the end of the sample.

ENJOY A FREE SNEAK PEEK

(This book is a standalone with a Happily Ever After ending. It is the first book in a series you’re going to love about the Sterling Brothers, Grizzly Bear Shifters.)

KODIAK ISLAND SHIFTERS

COLTON: BILLIONAIRE BEAR’S BRIDE

By Candace Ayers

Chapter one

“Take a seat Doctor Cooper.” Hannah’s lawyer proffered a chair opposite his paper-strewn desk. He adjusted his spectacles before continuing, “It’s all fairly straight forward—all monetary assets are to be transferred from your uncle’s estate at your earliest convenience.”

Hannah smiled tightly, not really knowing what to say. It had been an overwhelming week. It began with her uncle’s funeral, a man she hadn’t spoken to in years and only vaguely recollected. It was now ending, on a warm Friday afternoon, in her lawyer’s office, discussing the deposit of a large inheritance into her bank account.

“I have to say,” the lawyer continued, “it’s a rare pleasure allocating such large funds to someone so risk-adverse. You have a very healthy credit record, Doctor Cooper.”

“Well. I don’t come from a wealthy background, Mr. Moore. I think that helps.”

“Indeed.” He nodded, “There is, however, another matter I wanted to discuss with you today.” He cleared his throat before continuing, “Your marriage to a Mr…” He peered down at the document in his hand, “Bradley…”

“Brad Crawford,” Hannah interrupted him. “Yes. We’re not actually married. I mean, we’re married, technically, but… well, haven’t been together for many years now. We just never got around to a divorce.”

“I suggest that you do. You understand, of course, that he could cause,” he hesitated, looking for the right word, “issues as your legal husband if you were to receive the inheritance and then opt for a divorce. My suggestion to you would be to obtain signed divorce papers before the transfer proceeds.”

Hannah nodded, “I don’t think that will be a problem… once I track him down.”

“You don’t know Mr. Crawford’s location?”

“No. I haven’t seen him in ten years.” Hannah shrugged, she really hadn’t thought about him for an entire decade. They broke up a month before she left for medical school, and neither of them had been in contact with one another since.

“Well, I suggest you locate him. My understanding is that these funds will enable you to start your own medical practice?”

Hannah nodded, “Yes… and pay off my student loans.”

“Admirable. I hope it proves a fruitful endeavor. I will have the divorce papers drawn up for you by next week. Once you have the co-signature, we can reconvene and transfer the funds.

“Okay. Well, great.” Hannah rose from her chair, and shook her lawyers hand. “Thank you for your help, Mr. Moore.”

“It’s a pleasure, Dr. Cooper.”

Riding the elevator down from Delaney, Smith and Wexler LLP, Hannah felt dizzy. She had hoped that one day she’d have the financial means to open her own practice specializing in family medicine, but never in her wildest dreams did she imagine that day would come so soon. Thank you, Uncle Henry. May you rest in peace.

All she had to do now was get a divorce. She slipped on her RayBans as she stepped out of the office building and into the bright Chicago sunshine, heading towards a Starbucks across the street. Hannah wasn’t on call, so this was only the second cup of the day. If she was going to start trying to locate Brad Crawford, she reasoned, she’d need all the help she could get.

As the barista smiled at her mechanically from behind the counter, Hannah contemplated her options. She knew that neither of her parents had heard from Brad in years, and she wasn’t really in touch with anyone from High School. That was one of the drawbacks of medical school; you could forget about maintaining old friendships during the four years of intensive study, as lab partners and classmates became the only faces you ever saw. The four years of residency that followed had been no easier, but at least Hannah had shared an apartment with two other young doctors who understood the need to get shit-faced drunk the first day you lost a patient, that black-out conditions were mandatory during the day if you were on night shifts, and that the fridge needed to be stocked with Diet Coke twenty-four seven.

Hannah figured her best bet for tracking Brad would be to start with his sister. A few months ago, Hannah was sure she’d seen a new baby announcement on Facebook with Brad’s sister tagged in the group. Lila, that was her name. Lila Crawford. As far as Hannah could recall, she still lived back in Montana, so maybe Brand was near that area too. It would be nice to visit. Maybe she could pop by and see her parents.

With renewed vigor and a tall steaming black Columbian coffee, Hannah set off back home to her apartment.

“Lila?” Hannah asked when she heard a confused ‘hello’ at the other end of the line.

“Speaking. Who’s this?” Lila’s voice sounded sleep heavy.

“It’s Hannah Cooper. We went to High School together.” Hannah prompted.

“Oh, yeah. Brad’s wife.”

“Yeah,” Hannah paused. She hadn’t exactly expected a warm reception, but Lila’s tone was particularly cold. “I was actually looking for Brad. Do you know where he lives now?”

“Not really. I haven’t heard from him in over a year. No surprise there.”

Hannah made a sympathetic noise, “Any idea where I might find out?”

“Why are you looking for him anyways? You two haven’t seen each other in years.”

“I just wanted to catch up with him, see how he’s doing…” Hannah trailed off. “I also need him to sign some divorce papers. We never really got around to it, before, you know?”

“You getting hitched again?” Lila asked.

“No, no, just getting my paperwork in order.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. Eventually Lila sighed.

“Well, last I heard, he was in Alaska.”

“Alaska?”

“Yeah. He was doing odd jobs here and there. No idea where he’s at now though.”

“Okay, thanks Lila. Do you know what area?”

“Port Ursa.”

Hannah had never heard of it. So much for her trip to Montana.

“Great. Thanks, Lila, you’ve been really helpful.”

“Anytime.”

The phone went dead before Hannah had a chance to say goodbye. Hannah stared bemusedly at it. Lila had always been a bit of an oddball, and as far back as Hannah could remember, she’d never gotten along with her own brother.

The Crawford siblings hadn’t exactly had the Leave it to Beaver upbringing, though. Brad may have been the all-star favorite on the school basketball team, but he had also been a wild card–constantly in trouble, forever in detention, and he often missed long periods of the school semester. It was that wildness that had attracted her to Brad in the first place. Hannah smiled to herself, remembering her days as a straight-laced high school student. She had been forever studying, positively obsessed with getting straight ‘A’s. Brad had caught her attention during senior year, and they had started dating casually.

When High School came to an end, they and a group of their friends decided to celebrate their freedom with a cross-country road trip. Predicated by a night of free drinking at a casino, and Hannah’s first actual falling-down drunk, Brad and Hannah had found themselves in an Elvis Chapel in Vegas, pledging their future to one another.

Hannah went into her bedroom, and dug out a shoebox from beneath her bed. It was full of old photos and mementos. She searched through the piles, till she came to the cheaply framed picture of her wedding day. Brad had insisted on dressing up in a Rhinestone body suit. It still made Hannah laugh. He looked ridiculous, but she didn’t look any better. Having drunkenly decided to go “full Vegas,” she’d found the tightest, shortest mini dress she could find and the highest stilettos. In the picture they were surrounded by their friends—people Hannah hadn’t seen in years. She looked at the picture fondly. Brad had been troubled, no doubt about that, but he had been fun. The foolish marriage aside, she would never regret that vacation. Her last hurrah, a taste of much needed freedom before she buckled down to carving out her career.

She was intrigued to see what had become of Brad. She was actually surprised that this much time had passed without him contacting her to get the marriage annulled. Hannah’s dating landscape had been pretty barren, solely due to her working hours and somewhat narrow-minded focus on her job, but she would have thought Brad would have found a nice girl to settle down with by now.

“Do we have any ice-cream?” her roommate, Laura, stood in the doorway looking utterly miserable.

“No, honey, we don’t. Are you okay?”

“No,” she pouted, “Long shift working with Grayson. It was horrible. He yelled for hours, and I was so tired I didn’t even know what he was yelling about.”

“Yuck. I’m sorry, that sounds rough.” Grayson was the Chief of Staff at the general hospital where Hannah and Laura where finishing off their residency. He was an acidic demon, and getting on the wrong side of him would lead to shifts ending in tears. For Laura, it always necessitated buckets of ice cream.

“Come on,” Hannah ushered her into the living room, and wrapped her up in a blanket on the sofa. “I’ll go out and get some.”

“Really?” Laura’s eyes lit up, “Thank you, thank you. I’ll do your laundry duty next week.”

Hannah laughed, “No you won’t–you never have time to follow through on that promise, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

Laura smiled sheepishly.

“By the way, “Hannah continued, “have you heard of Port Ursa?”

“In Alaska?”

“Yes! Do you know it?”

“Not really. My dad went fishing there once. I think it’s a bit of a nightmare to get to–like, one of the islands you can only get to by boat or bush plane or something.”

“Of course it is,” Hannah sighed, “Salted caramel?”

“Can you get that and a cookie dough one?”

“Don’t push your luck.” Hannah picked up her keys and purse. “Be back in five.”

Laura gave her a helpless wave from her position on the sofa.

Hannah marched down the stairs, mildly annoyed that the one rare week she got off would be spent traipsing around in Alaska, no doubt freezing her ass off, trying to locate her legal husband.

Chapter two

“I think we should expand,” Colton Sterling leaned back in his chair, idly scratching his lean torso as he waited for his brothers’ response.

“It’s risky, Colton,” Wyatt spoke in measured tones, “It makes me nervous that we couldn’t cover it with the income from the current fishery.”

“But we can easily cover it with Sterling Outfitters,” remarked Colton, “We’re running a multi-billion-dollar chain. What else do you want to do with the profits?”

Colton’s brother sighed.

“Come on, Wyatt. You know he’s right.” Tucker Sterling broke the silence, “He was right the last time, he’s right this time, and he’s going to be right next time.”

The three brothers sat around the table. They had been playing a game of poker, but talk had turned to business as it so often did. The whisky had stopped being poured as they tried to reach a solution, the game on pause while each man carefully considered the options.

Years ago, when their father died, the three brothers had been left running the family’s small camping goods and outdoor supplies store right in the heart of “nowhereville” Alaska. Colton alone had seen the bigger picture; Alaska was growing its tourist influx every year. Visitors poured in seasonally for adventure and nature watching in the brutal, pristine Alaskan wilderness. All the small towns had an outdoor goods supply shop, but the quality varied, as did the stock. Colton’s brainstorm had been to take over each of these mom and pop stores, one by one, whilst keeping on board the experts who had been running each shop, as employees. It meant more income for them, as well as access to superior quality products. Thus, Sterling Supplies became Sterling Outfitters, Inc. and within a few years, new stores popped up in various locations in a chain that encompassed Alaska, Canada, and most of the lower 48 states. Sterling Outfitters was now a household name. No one could deny that Colton had a mind for business that bordered on genius.

Now, Colton was keen to replicate the model in the fishing industry.

“You know it’s not just the money, Colton,” Wyatt reminded him, “The Jackson pack aren’t pleased with our stronghold here. Purchasing the fishery that previously belong to their pack isn’t going to help politics.”

“Shit, Wyatt, Jackson drank that place into the ground. If it’s not us, that place will just go to waste. There’s no one here that has the inclination to take on a place with so much bad debt attached.”

The brothers were at a stalemate. Both Wyatt and Colton looked to Tucker, waiting for his input.

“Look, let’s talk to Joe about it, see what he says. I agree with Colton, this is a good opportunity and it shouldn’t go to waste, but we also need to think about what the consequences are going to mean for relations between our clan and the wolves. I don’t want more shit from Jackson and the rest of them cocksuckers.” Tucker reached for the bottle of whisky. His action decreeing that the subject was now closed.

Joe Sterling was the uncle of the three men. When their father, Joe’s brother, died, Joe took over as Alpha of the bear clan. Tensions between the wolf pack and bear clan had been growing steadily more precarious. Their father, Jeremiah Sterling, had died in his car, driving back home from work. The investigation into his death wasn’t much at the time. Port Ursa had been such a small town that the police and legal infrastructure hadn’t amounted to much, and the car had been deemed faulty. The death was recorded as an accident. The Sterling clan had their suspicions, though, grounded in the fact that two of Jackson’s pack members had reportedly been seen hanging around the lot where Jeremiah’s car was parked that day.

Tucker poured each of his brothers a drink, and then raised his glass.

“To the Sterling clan. Long may we prosper.”

“Long may we prosper,” echoed Colton and Wyatt, before each downing the golden liquid.

“How’s that woman you’re seeing from San Fran?” Tucker asked.

Colton had spent the last two months opening a store on the San Francisco coastline, whilst simultaneously catching the attention of a local lawyer.

“She’s great. We’ve had a good time,” Colton shrugged.

“Let me guess – you won’t be seeing her again?” Tucker laughed, rolling his eyes at his younger brother.

“Woman in every port, huh, bro?” Wyatt commented, his smile wry.

“Come on, neither of you can talk. Wyatt, when was the last time you even went on a date? And Tucker, you know you’re as bad as I am. I can’t believe you’re both giving me shit for this.”

“Believe it, brother. We know we’re all doomed to perpetual bachelorhood, so we might as well laugh about it,” Tucker replied.

“Yeah, well, I’m too busy making money for you two, to think about settling down.” Colton stood up and shrugged his coat on before either of them could think of a comeback.

***

Colton stood at the dock, it was about ten in the evening but still not dark. The perpetual half-light of the spring evenings had begun, and would continue till September.  He could still see the light of the horizon, just a sliver, where dawn was breaking over some far off point on the North Pacific Ocean.

The Alaskan spring had brought some warmth with it, but the evenings still remained viciously cold, and Colton pulled his jacket tighter against himself as he gazed out onto the swaying bulks of the commercial fishing ships rocking in the bay.

Colton had a good feeling about the fishing investment. He’d eventually want to expand their catchment all the way to Japan, but for now he would be content with the Alaskan coast. As much as his brothers’ hesitation frustrated him, rationally he knew they had good reason.

The Jackson pack wasn’t just at odds with the Sterling clan, they were also fighting within their own ranks. Drake Hansen, a wolf that had been brought up in Alaska as part of one of the oldest Yupik packs, had returned from the military to find his pack had been taken over by Simon Jackson’s faction. At the time he’d had no choice but to fall into rank, but since the death of Jeremiah Sterling and the civil unrest this had caused between clan and pack, Drake had seen an opportunity to divide the pack and reconsolidate Yupik power.

The days of Port Ursa being a small, local and peaceful town were drawing to a close. As Colton had predicted, the town had grown rapidly in size–almost too quickly for local infrastructure to keep up. The police department was still based a two-and-a-half-hour drive from Port Ursa, which included a ferry trip, and that was on a good day. During winter, it was better to take a bushplane.

Colton sniffed the air, clearing his senses. He could detect an out of season snow rush coming. Earlier this week, he had considered inviting the lawyer to Alaska for the weekend. He had too much work on to travel, but if the weather was going to be bad it was wise to wait. A couple of nights with the woman would have done him the world of good, but he didn’t want her getting stranded for an entire week. A week would be entirely too much together time. Better to remain solo this weekend and get on with persuading the rest of the Sterling family that fishing was the next frontier.

Chapter three

Hannah hadn’t realized the logistical nightmare of getting to Port Ursa. She’d taken a seven-hour flight to Anchorage, then a one-hour connecting flight to Kodiak. Once there, she’d had to rent an SUV before taking a ferry across to Port Ursa.

She’d been able to appreciate the breath-taking beauty of the landscape, the surreal light that turned the sky a sci-fi aqua marine color, the impossibility of such a large, vast stretch of ice and ocean. The moment she’d landed in Anchorage, her phone reception had become laughably obsolete. Hannah knew she would need to lower her city standards considerably and rough it for a while. This part of the world held no prisoners, even less benevolent toward the unprepared and the foolhardy. Hannah had packed the warmest clothes she could find languishing at the back of her wardrobe, and dug out her winter parka. As soon as she got the SUV, she went and purchased an extra gallon of gas to store in the trunk. She wasn’t taking any chances.

She arrived at Port Ursa around four in the evening. The roads were still icy, not yet thawed from the winter. Hannah drove carefully to pick up the keys for the cabin she had rented for the duration of her stay, which she’d hoped would be for one night only.

The town was charming and rustic, mostly wooden buildings dotted here and there selling tourist junk, restaurants and cafes, and expedition centers. Most of the commercial construction took place at the edge of the lively seaport.

Her directions, which fortunately Hannah had the foresight to print out, rather than relying on her phone’s GPS, led her to a small corrugated steel shack. A sign reading ‘Burke Cabins’ hung over the top. Hannah peered in through the window and found a surprisingly cozy room where an old man sat at a table playing Solitaire and smoking a cigar.

She went around and knocked on the door. She could hear him shuffling to his feet, and a few moments later he swung it open.

“Afternoon. Dr. Cooper is it?”

“That’s me, hello.”

“Come on in. Coffee, whisky?”

Hannah wiped her feet on the welcome mat before making her way in, noticing that the old man was wearing a pair of bedroom slippers.

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Suit yourself,” the old man flicked on the kettle, “I need one on the hour, every hour.”

Hannah’s medical degree kicked in and she dearly wanted to comment on the hazards of stomach ulcers, but held her tongue. She didn’t get the impression it would be very well received.

“I got your keys ready, the place is in good shape. Try not to get too lonely out here. Tourist season hasn’t started yet, so you’ll be the only one in the cabins. I got three up the way,” he gestured up past the main road, “but you’re getting the best.”

“Thank you,” Hannah replied, “I really appreciate it.”

“Huh, don’t thank me yet. You’re a city girl, I can tell. If you want heat in that place, you need to burn a log fire. If you don’t, you’ll freeze your backside off.” The man gave a short bark of laughter at his own joke, and Hannah smiled weakly.

“Ah, don’t mind me. There’s plenty of wood in there for you, you need more, just come down and holler.”

The man shuffled over to a wooden cabinet on the wall and retrieved a set of keys.

“These are them. There’s a manual in the cabin, tell you anything you need to know.” He placed the keys in Hannah’s palm. “What you here for anyway? One of those marine biologists? You lot are always coming and poking around.”

“No, I’m… I’m a medical doctor. I’m just looking for a friend. Brad Crawford?”

“Ah. Yeah, I know the guy. What you want with the likes of him?”

“We went to high school together.” The old man’s tone didn’t really surprise Hannah. It reminded her of the way teachers at school would refer to Brad. He was obviously still making a name for himself by being a little bit wilder and more reckless than the next guy.

“Huh. Surprised he went to school at all. Well, you’ll find him at the garage.” He shuffled around looking for something in his desk drawers. “Here–map of the area. Brad’s on the other side of the island, but it’s only about a twenty-minute drive. He’ll be closed by now though–likes to get off early that one.” The man grunted, clearly unimpressed by Brad’s work ethic.

“Great, thank you,” Hannah took the map and shoved it in her purse.

The old man saw her out, nodding in approval at her SUV, and gave her the directions to the cabin.

Hannah drove her vehicle slowly, following the rough track to the cabin. On arrival, she lugged her small suitcase out of the back seat and ventured inside.

It certainly had plenty of rustic charm, she told herself, whilst shivering violently, as she closed the door behind her. Before doing anything, she needed to light the fire. Hastily she pushed the logs onto the grate and crumpled up some old newspaper. Flicking the match, she was relieved to see it rapidly come to life, but it would be a while before she’d be able to remove her coat.

Next, she checked the sleeping arrangements. The bed was in the same room, which was a relief. It wasn’t damp, either, but with only a duvet for night time warmth, Hannah thought it would be wise to invest in a sleeping bag, even if it was just for the night.

She checked her map and found a camping supplies store in the center of the town. Hopefully it would still be open, and plus, she was starving and far too tired to cook. It would be dinner for one tonight at the nearest, least touristy looking restaurant.

***

The storefront lights were still glowing when she reached Sterling Outfitters. It was by far the largest and grandest looking store on the street, and Hannah vaguely recalled seeing a few from the same chain in Chicago. She stepped in and was welcomed by a blast of heat and a genuine smile from the rugged looking man behind the counter.

“Can I help you?” he asked as Hannah approached.

“Please. I’m looking for a sleeping bag.”

The door chime rang as a family entered behind Hannah. Two children ran in, followed by their mother.

“Be with you in a sec,” the assistant called to them, and gestured Hannah over to the neatly stacked sleeping bags. “We’ve got pretty much every type. Are you looking for a one man or two man?”

“One man would probably be best, as long as it’s seriously warm.”

The assistant laughed, “You staying at one of Burke’s cabins?”

“How did you guess?”

“My aunt stayed there one winter during my wedding–house was full. She didn’t stop complaining about the cold. The local motel closes over winter till start of June, so sadly there’s nowhere else to stay.”

“It’s okay, charming really, as long as I can keep warm tonight. It’s only for a night.”

The man nodded and pulled down one of the bags, “This is filled with duck down, as well as some Japanese-made synthetic materials. Can’t really go wrong.”

“Perfect,” Hannah smiled gratefully. She was about to say something else, but froze to listen to the sounds of sharp gurgling gasps coming from behind her, followed by silence.

“Jamie, Jamie!” The little boy’s mother rushed over to him, waving her arms about helplessly.

The boy’s eyes were wide open and desperate. His face blossomed bright red and then rapidly started to lose color. Hannah dropped the sleeping bag and was beside him in less than a second.

Chapter four

From his chair in the back office, Colton heard a commotion coming from up front. It almost sounded like the place was being held up—a loud, blood-curdling cry was emanating from a woman, and he rushed to the door anticipating wolf trouble.

He burst into the main store, his primitive bear senses kicking in as his eyes rapidly surveyed the scene. He relaxed at the absence of wolves, and mere presence of one hysterical woman crying over a child. There was also a second woman, who at the moment was standing behind the child executing an efficient Heimlich maneuver. Giving one final thrust, a bright blue object flew through the air and smacked against the glass display case. The child started crying.

“You need to get him to his pediatrician. He may have damaged his airways,” the woman calmly addressed the mother of the child, whilst soothing the crying boy.

“Thank you! Oh, I can’t thank you enough!” The mother took the boy back in her arms.

“Lego,” the woman commented, picking up the bright blue object, “Happens all the time.”

“We can’t get to the doctor. We can’t cross on the ferry in this weather and the flight path’s closed, do you think he’ll be alright until next week?” The tinge of hysteria was edging back up in the woman’s voice.

“Let me have a look,” the red-haired woman turned and addressed the boy, “Will you open wide for me?”

Amidst his sobs, the boy did as he was told.

“He looks okay. Get him to a doctor as soon as you can, though. Is there really no one around here, not even a general practitioner?”

The mother shook her head.

Colton stepped forward to offer his assistance, then halted mid-stride. The mother had moved, clearing his line of vision and now he could clearly see the little boy’s savior.

For Colton, it was as if time stood still. Her hair flowed loosely down her shoulders, thick, deep red with natural golden highlights. Her skin was alabaster white, contrasting strikingly with full pink lips. She was curvy. Beautiful, voluptuous curves that made Colton’s mouth water. Her eyes were a piercing artic blue, and right now they were looking expectantly at Colton, as if waiting for him to speak.

“I have a plane you can use to take your boy to the mainland if you need it.” Colton addressed the mother. He vaguely recognized her; she was fairly new to Port Ursa.

“Thank you, that would be wonderful. It’s really so kind of you…”

“Colton.”

He glanced over at the redhead. She had broken eye contact with him and was now rising to her feet. He wanted to speak to her before she left.

“Jake, will you get the flight charted?” he spoke to the shop clerk, who rapidly ushered the boy and his mother into the back room.

The redhead made her way over to the camping equipment, picking up a sleeping bag that had been dropped. Colton watched her bend down to retrieve it, admiring her thick, curvy ass encased in hip-hugging jeans.

There was something about her, besides her amazing figure, that had his bear wanting to rip out of his skin. Moments ago he had thought it was just the false threat of wolf attack, but now he wasn’t so sure. His bear was screaming to be let loose, his blood bubbling under the surface of his skin. The pounding in his chest grew more insistent, thundering within his ribcage. His muscles became tauter, tensing as they physically prepared for the change his body instinctively knew was coming his way. It took effort for Colton to hold back the transformation—to halt nature’s will as it strived for his metamorphosis.

“Do you work here?” the woman looked up at him.

“Yeah, hi.” Colton moved behind the cash register, “It was amazing what you did back there. Are you a medic of some kind?”

“I’m a doctor, I work in Chicago.” She passed him the sleeping bag, “I’m just visiting.”

“Staying at Burke’s place?”

“I am–hence the sleeping bag.”

Colton nodded. Her smile was distracting, not helping his inability to recall how the cash register worked. They had upgraded the machinery since the days when he’d had to work behind a register, the multiple buttons and scanning codes were alien to Colton.

“You know what? Have it for free. A thank you for saving one of my customers.”

“No, really, I couldn’t. I was just doing what anyone would do, and a kid choking on Lego is nothing, trust me.”

“I insist. How long are you staying for?”

“Just tonight. I’m looking up an old friend.”

Colton wanted to ask who, but restrained himself.

“Not staying to explore?”

“I wish I could. It’s beautiful here.” Moving to leave, the woman smiled blandly at Colton, “Thank you for this. Much appreciated, really.”

“It’s no problem. I’m Colton Sterling, by the way.”

He was racking his brain to come up with some excuse to keep the conversation going. In truth, this wasn’t usually a problem for him. Women were usually happily flocking around him, hanging on to his every word.

“Hannah Cooper. Nice to meet you.”

It was getting awkward now. The woman, Hannah, clearly wanted to get going. Colton came out from behind the counter to see her out. Holding the door open for her, he got a hit of her scent as she walked past. It almost knocked him to his knees.

He watched her get into the SUV and drive off into town. Colton groaned. He may not have experienced it before, but his instincts categorically knew that the doctor making a one-night appearance in Port Ursa was his. His mate. She also appeared to be completely unaffected by him. Not only was it a blow to his ego, but it was also damn inconvenient. Colton had less than twenty-four hours to make Hannah fall in love with him.

Hannah smiled to herself as she drove around town, looking for a suitable restaurant. It had been a while since she’d laid eyes on such a magnificent specimen of man. That guy had been hot. He’d been about a foot taller than Hannah, a quality she always appreciated, with a huge, broad frame. Even under his thermal hoodie, she’d been able to see a taut, well-defined body, but it was his face that Hannah knew wouldn’t leave her memory for a long time. He wore his dark brown hair a little long so it hung slightly over his forehead, had a defined jawline covered in stubble, and bright green eyes that were shaded by thick lashes. His face was undoubtedly handsome by any standard, but it was his wicked smile that definitely made her girly parts take notice. As she backed into a restaurant parking lot, she caught a glimpse of herself in the rearview mirror and realized she was smirking. Get a grip, lady.

It was nice, she reflected, to know that she was still susceptible to the charms of the opposite sex. It often felt like she’d completely shut herself off from the potential of having any romantic interest in the last four years. Work had come first, and the thought of having her much-needed sleep interrupted by male companionship hadn’t been at all appealing. She just hadn’t had time to entertain the idea of a relationship—not with the kind of time and effort that they required. Laura swore by one-night stands, and they had been appealing during Hannah’s college years, but the longer she’d gone without any intimate contact, the more the idea of sex with a stranger had started to seem like more of a hassle than it was worth.

Until today. She almost wished she were staying longer. If Colton Sterling was single, which she doubted anyhow, he’d be more than welcome to park his boots under her bed tonight.

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GIVEN TO THE VAMPIRES

STORY DESCRIPTION

Sheltered, adored, virginal, Anna finds herself given in marriage to the one man who terrifies her above all others. A vampire.

She has no choice.

Her father’s life depends on her fulfilling the agreement.

Her betrothed, however, already shares his life, his bed, and his eternity with another vampire. A male.

Anna is thrust into a world completely foreign to her, yet despite her fear, the two creatures ignite a lusty passion in her the likes of which she has never before known.

Chapter 1: Dimitri

When you’ve lived as long as I have, there will have been times when you must make hard decisions. Decisions that seem, at the time, impossible. I’d believed at one time that eventually what was left of my humanity would disappear, and I’d be able to make these kinds of decisions coldly, without the emotions that made the dealings of humankind so messy.

It had been three hundred years that I’d been a vampire, and still I couldn’t shake those last vestiges of what it meant to be a human. For the most part, I could shake off the most inconvenient emotions. I could rely on all my experiences, all my memories, all my knowledge of human fallibility, and use it to rise above the chaos.

But now, in this moment, as I looked at the grey-haired man kneeling on the carpet in front of me, his shoulders trembling, I felt so many of those human emotions that we claimed to have conquered.

Anger.

Confusion.

Sorrow.

“How long have I known you, Anthony?” I demanded, my voice solid, ringing with anger.

His voice shook when he responded. He didn’t look up from the carpet. “Twenty years, Dimitri.”

The man standing behind him—a Germanic hulk of a man, with a thick neck and hands the size of my head—cuffed him across the back of his head. “You use respect when you speak to him!” he snapped in his thick accent.

Frederick, my enforcer.

“Twenty years, sir.” Anthony repeated, trying to steady his voice. It didn’t matter—I could feel his fear. I could taste it on my tongue, rancid and bitter like old sweat. Despite the fact that I’d fed only an hour ago, I could feel the desire for blood stirring. Somehow, it always tasted sweeter when they were afraid. It was hotter; it ran faster.

But this was no ordinary lackey who had made a mistake. This was a man I had considered my friend. And the mistake that he had made was terrible. For anyone else, it would be unforgiveable. So, what was I to do? I would have killed any other man, made an example of him. Let Frederick take him to do whatever it was he wished. But not Anthony. I couldn’t, and I cursed the lingering human emotion that made it so goddamn difficult.

He’d come to me, twenty years ago, broke and starving with a wife and a six-month-old daughter to care for. He’d begged me for any job, said that he would clean my toilets or cook my food, anything so that he could bring home money to his family. I’d believed his sincerity, and so I’d done better for him. I’d taken the failing tailor’s shop that he’d owned, and I’d invested in it, helped to make him successful. And in return, I used the shop as a front to launder money. It had been a mutually agreeable relationship, one built on trust and respect, and after many years, something very like friendship.

“Tell me, again, what happened, Anthony.” I needed to hear it again. I needed all of my anger.

“They came, asking for information. They threatened my wife, my daughter! How was I to know that they would kill him?”

The “him” that Anthony spoke of was my second-closest friend. For two hundred years, a vampire named Raoul had been my closest friend, and for over half that, Bernard had been with us as well. We’d navigated the years together, the only constants in a world that could never remain the same for us. Immortality means, inevitably, losing some who you love—especially if you have a weakness for humans, as I do. I have never been able to resist the desire of humans, the way they are so desperate to live, because their lives are so short. And it has never been able to be helped that I would fall in love with some of them. Raoul, too, has been unable to resist the draw of them, here and there, over the centuries. But Bernard—Bernard was always ours alone. From the moment Raoul turned him, he loved only us. And now, because Anthony had been afraid, Bernard was dead. Killed by the lunatics who feared us, the dreaded organization that hunted us ruthlessly. I thought I had paid most of them off, but clearly there was some disciple that had thought himself too righteous to be bought.

Some member of the A.V.O. had discovered our operation, and threatened Anthony’s family. I could understand his terror, could sympathize with his instinct to protect them. But as a result, a man who had been my friend and sometimes lover was dead. I could feel my heart, old as it was, aching with grief. I could envision where Raoul was at this moment—probably sitting in front of the fire in our bedroom, maybe still as I had left him hours ago, holding the bloody jacket that had been brought to us. There was nothing left of Bernard to bury. Only that jacket. I envied Raoul his ability to fall apart. As our coven leader, I had no choice but to swallow my grief and instead do my duty, and make an example of Anthony.

I looked down at him. “Why didn’t you come to me, Anthony? Why didn’t you trust me to keep you safe?” That was the question that had been gnawing at me all night, since we’d received the news. He knew what I was, what Raoul was, what Bernard had been. Why hadn’t he trusted us to keep his family safe? I would have brought them into our home, protected from the A.V.O. by Frederick, the rest of my security detail, and the best technology modern times could offer.

He should have trusted me.

He was shaking his head, staring down at the carpet. “I was afraid, sir. Afraid to leave them for even a moment. Afraid that my call to you would be tracked. I was paralyzed by fear.”

He looked up at me then, his face pleading. “I know you must punish me for it. In trying to save my family, I’ve broken yours. I beg you, sir, don’t punish my family for my mistakes, please.”

I looked at him, trying to keep my face impassive. He believed I would kill him. His acceptance of it struck me, the way he knelt on the carpet without tears or pleading, only concern for his family. I knew that his death was what Raoul expected. It was what the others in my organization would expect. It would set the example that would prevent any of our other contacts from making this same mistake.

But the truth was, I didn’t want to. My head ached. I wanted to go back to the bedroom, gather Raoul into my arms, and grieve for Bernard. I didn’t want to preside over the death of another friend. But I had to make an example. I had to show that this sort of betrayal would not be tolerated.

I took a deep breath.

“You did this because you were afraid for your family, Anthony. I can understand that urge. But, as you said, your fear and lack of faith in me has broken apart my family. My relationship with Raoul and Bernard was always that of friends, but it was also more than that. You have, essentially, deprived me of a partner and a spouse.”

I saw no shock register on Anthony’s face. He’d known that Raoul and I were, for all intents and purposes, together. Clearly he’d suspected that of Bernard as well. I felt a sharp, piercing dart of anger.

“You have until now been a loyal friend, Anthony, and our business relationship has always been profitable to us both. I am willing to spare your life…”

“Sir!” Anthony gasped, gratitude suffusing his voice. I held up my hand.

“Under one condition.”

“Anything, sir.”

I couldn’t help the way my mouth twisted, smirking as I looked down at him. He would regret that statement in a moment.

“You have a daughter, Anthony. In exchange for the partner you have deprived me of, you will give me your daughter as my wife. In exchange, I will let you have your life and return to your family, and our business relationship will continue as it did before.”

His face looked stricken, much as I imagined mine must have when we’d received the news of Bernard’s death. Much the way Raoul’s had still looked when I’d left him sobbing in our room. I felt a moment of vengeful gratification.

“Sir, please!” he gasped. “Don’t punish my family for this!”

“Are you implying marriage to me is a punishment for your daughter? Do you think I would hurt her? Force her against her will? Provide anything for her but the most luxurious existence?”

“You’re taking her from me!”

“You took Bernard!” I thundered, my voice tight with rage. “You will still be able to see your daughter, Anthony, speak to her, spend holidays with her. If I truly wanted to take your daughter from you, I would make you watch as Frederick snapped her neck! But I only ask that you replace what you have taken from me. I am asking very little, I think.”

“She doesn’t love you.”

“That is something I am prepared to deal with.”

I could see that Anthony was fighting to hold back tears. He hadn’t cried for himself, but he was crying for his daughter. It touched me, but I was resolute.

I softened my voice a touch. “I promise you, Anthony, I will not force your daughter in any way. I will not lay a finger on her against her will. I will treat her with kindness and dignity, and in time I hope that she will come to see me as a true husband. But whether our marriage is forever one in name or becomes a true marriage, she will be my wife.”

My tone hardened again. “Or, Anthony, I will kill you in front of your family and take her as my wife anyway.”

His head shot up, and his teary gaze met mine.

“So you see, Anthony, you truly have no choice.”

Chapter 2: Anna

I had stared at my father in near-incomprehension when he told me the news. At first, I’d hardly seen his red-rimmed eyes or ashy face, I was so happy to have him home. My first thought was that Dimitri had forgiven him, that their years of friendship had overcome the horrible mistake that my father had made. That Dimitri had seen that it was truly a mistake.

My mother and I had run to him the moment he’d stumbled in the door, hugging him madly and asking if he was alright. Dimitri hadn’t harmed a hair on his head, he’d said. But then he’d turned to me, fixed me with those bloodshot eyes, and I’d felt my blood run cold.

It was the heat of it I felt now, the soft thrum of it in my veins. I knew so little about what they were. What Dimitri was. I shuddered. Would he want to drink from me? I’d heard so many different things. Some said that they were like animals, that they drank from humans and left them pale and anemic. I’d heard wild tales of banquets where they split open veins and let the blood run into goblets and drank it like wine. And then there were others who said all that was nonsense and that they got blood from the government-sanctioned blood banks, where humans were compensated handsomely for donating. That seemed to be the most logical answer. But still, I thought of all the other stories I’d heard, and I shuddered.

It wasn’t just that. I wasn’t being sent to him for a night, or a weekend. I was going to be his wife. I hadn’t even begun to think about who I might marry someday. I had friends who thought of that and little else, but I was happy to stay away from boys in general. They all seemed so immature and ridiculous. I’d stayed home for the last two years to help my parents, since my mother’s illness had progressed and she wasn’t always able to help my father run the tailor shop. But he’d promised me that when my twenty-first birthday came in a few months, he would ask Dimitri for an assistant so that I could go to college in the fall. I’d already received acceptance letters.

I wondered if Dimitri would still let me go. Would he approve of it? Or would he want me sequestered away in the penthouse where he lived, kept away from the daylight like he was? It was late at night, but I suddenly craved the sunrise. How many more times would I see it? Would he demand I keep his hours?

I heard a knock at my door. I wondered if it was my father. I wanted to be petulant and not let him in—he’d agreed to this, after all—or my mother, who hadn’t fought against it. She’d only looked at him with her pale, drawn face and inhaled a rattling breath before turning away. It was winter, and she had pneumonia again.

The knock came again, lighter this time. “Come in,” I said finally, turning away from the window.

It was my mother. She smiled faintly at me as she walked in and sat on the edge of my bed. I suddenly felt a wash of sadness, looking at it. I’d lived in this room for my whole life. It had been a nursery, and then a little girl’s room, and then a teenager’s bedroom, and now the bedroom of a young woman. There were hints of every stage still sprinkled around—the pale pink paint on the walls that we’d never bothered to repaint, even though I didn’t really care for pink; the stuffed animal I’d clung to as a five-year-old; the faded poster of a band I’d listened to in tenth grade and hated now; the very adult bedspread my mother was sitting on now, a dark red quilt with wildflowers sprinkled into the pattern matching pillows. My grandmother had made it for me. She’d said she was saving it for my wedding, but had given it to me on my eighteenth birthday with a wink, saying she didn’t think that happy occasion would be coming around anytime soon. She’d died just last year.

I was suddenly glad of it. I was glad she wasn’t here to see the occasion that was leading to my marriage.

My mother’s voice broke me out of my reverie. “We’re going wedding dress shopping tomorrow, Anna.”

“I don’t want to.” My voice was sullen and childish even to my ears, but I could hardly bring myself to care.

“Anna.” Her voice was soft, but it was more firm than I’d heard it in a very long time.

“Anna, your father doesn’t want to distress you anymore than you already are with this news, but I think you must know the whole truth. Dimitri is determined to have you as his wife. It is his price for the mistake your father made.”

“But surely he doesn’t actually expect that I will go along with this?”

“If you do not agree, if you force your father to deny Dimitri what he has asked for—and you know your father will not ever force you to do anything you truly do not want to do—he will kill your father and marry you anyway.”

I heard her voice catch. “Anna, you know I could never want you to be unhappy. But there is no way out of this. This is the only way for everyone to come out of this alive.”

“Why didn’t he just ask for Dimitri’s help?” I whispered softly. “Dimitri would have helped us.”

My mother sighed, her fingers knotting in her lap. “It was a mistake, Anna,” she repeated. “If you truly believe Dimitri is such a good man, that he would have helped us if your father had asked, then you must believe that he will treat you well. He promised your father he would not touch you unless you consent, that it will be a marriage in name only, for as long as you want it to be.”

“That will be forever, then!” I snapped, my temper flaring up. “How could he possibly think I would ever want to let him touch me after forcing me into this?”

It felt strange to talk about things like this, even so vaguely, with my mother. I had plenty of friends who talked about it nonstop, all of whom had slept with multiple men. I was an outlier, the one girl who had a working knowledge of how sex worked but hadn’t actually done it. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to…there had just never been anyone who made me feel the way the characters in the books I read felt. No one who made my heart beat fast and knees go weak, who made me feel as if I would die if he didn’t touch me. I wanted that for my first experience, that heady sensation that the pages of my books described. I didn’t want the painful, awkward fumbling that my friends had talked about, the mediocre encounters afterward. I wanted passion, and desire, and romance.

Now it seemed none of that would ever happen for me.

I knew, no matter how much I flirted with the idea, that I could not turn Dimitri down. My father would never force me to go through with it, but I believed my mother when she said that Dimitri would have him killed and marry me anyway. I did not have a choice.

“What time do you want me up tomorrow?” I asked finally, resigned.

“I called a friend who owns one of the boutiques nearby. She set us up for a 10 a.m. appointment.”

She stood up, smoothing the comforter where she’d been sitting. “You should get some sleep, Anna. Tomorrow will be a long day.” She kissed me softly on the cheek, and I could see the deep furrows in her brow. I knew she was putting on a brave face for me. I also knew that she was terrified that I would try to refuse, and get my father killed.

I wanted desperately to refuse, but I wouldn’t take that chance.

---

When my alarm went off the next morning, I’d barely slept. I blearily stumbled into the shower, letting the hot water soothe the aches that had come from a restless night of tossing and turning.

I couldn’t find the energy to get dressed up or put on makeup, as if this were some wonderful occasion. I pulled on a pair of black leggings and flat boots, with a long black fleece sweater, and twisted my long brown hair up at the back of my head. Taking a glance in the mirror, I added a touch of lip stain, just to help mitigate the paleness of my face. I looked almost like a vampire myself, blanched white with dark circles under my eyes.

We ate breakfast in silence. I tried to swallow a few bites of the oatmeal my mother had made, but I could hardly force it down. A sudden knock came at the door, and we all jumped in unison. My mother started to get up, but my father waved his hand at her. “I’ll get it.”

I heard a deep, low voice at the door, and for a wild moment I thought Dimitri had come to visit. But it was bright daylight outside, and when my father shut the door a few moments after the visitor arrived, I knew it wasn’t him.

My father walked back to the table and set two black boxes and an envelope in front of me. “From Dimitri,” he said flatly, and took his seat again.

My fingers shook as I went to open the envelope. Inside was a sheet of beautiful, creamy stationery, and the writing in it was in a firm, bold, elegant hand.

My dearest Anna,

I know that the events of last night must have come as a terrible shock to you. I also know that you would not choose this for yourself, and although I must insist that you follow through, lest I be forced to take more drastic action, I wish you to know that I want only to make your life going forward as felicitous as it may possibly be. My staff is preparing the celebration for a month from today, and if there is anything at all that you desire, any wish for our wedding that you may have, you need only ask and it will be done. Your rooms here are already being prepared—you need only see me at mealtimes and events and other designated times. I have promised your father that I will not touch you or force your affections in any way, and that is a promise I intend to keep. I have been informed that you will be choosing a wedding gown today, and I have instructed that all costs shall be billed to me. I wish for you to have whatever you desire.

Finally, while I cannot claim that it is a love token, please accept the accompanying gifts as tokens of my devotion to your happiness and well-being. They are family heirlooms, and it is my wish that you shall wear them in good health as my bride.

I remain your devoted servant,

Dimitri

I laid the sheet of paper aside, and reached for the smaller black box. There was no sound from either of my parents as I cracked it open, and I couldn’t help the soft gasp that emerged from my mouth.

Nestled in the black velvet cushion inside was the most beautiful piece of jewelry I had ever seen. It was a large marquis-cut diamond set in yellow gold, six carved, claw-like prongs curving up over the edges of the diamond to hold it in place. Two small rubies were set into the band on either side of the diamond. The gold had an antique, burnished patina to it, it was clearly hundreds of years old.

My hands trembled as I slipped it onto my left ring finger. It fit perfectly, the upper point of the diamond reaching nearly to my knuckle. My hand felt weighted down, shackled.

I reached for the second box, my heart pounding. I didn’t know what to expect, and when I lifted the lid off, my heart nearly stopped.

Inside was a necklace of rubies, each several carats, set in halos of perfect, sparkling diamonds. And above, earrings to match.

“It’s like…like the Queen’s jewelry, or something…” I whispered, touching one of the stones. He meant for me to wear this on our wedding day. As if I were to be his queen.

“Anna, he is descended from an ancient Russian royal family. Those jewels are hundreds of years old.” My father’s voice was low, nearly a whisper. On my finger and on the table in front of me was more money than my father would ever make in his lifetime. I’d never seen anything so valuable up close, and I was meant to put them on. I hurriedly put the lid back on the box containing the necklace and earrings, but the weight of the ring on my finger wouldn’t let me forget. I glanced down at it again. For a moment, my traitorous heart skipped a beat. I’d never thought I’d touch anything so beautiful, let alone own it.

But what a terrible price it came with.

---

I was still in a daze when we arrived at the bridal boutique. My mother had clearly told her friend nothing of what had happened, because she was glowing when we walked through the doors.

“Oh, Anna! What a surprise! How romantic! A whirlwind romance, is it? Are you…you’re not pregnant, surely?” Her voice dropped a few decibels, her eyebrows raising as if to say: children these days…

I shook my head mutely. “She’s not pregnant,” my mother assured Brenna, her friend. “Just a whirlwind. It’s such an…unexpected match. But we are all so very happy for Anna and Dimitri.”

Brenna’s eyes went so wide that I thought they might pop out of her face, and her gaze immediately went to my left hand. Her face flushed, and I worried for a moment she might faint.

“Dimitri?” I couldn’t tell if she was pleased or furious. A moment later, I realized she was starstruck. And as I watched her eyes narrow, I realized she was also calculating the benefit to her business. She would be able to say she’d dressed Dimitri’s wife. I felt a flare of annoyance, and then mentally shrugged. At least someone was benefiting from this.

Someone other than Dimitri.

“I just want a simple dress,” I started. “Nothing flashy. Maybe not even white?”

She was already shaking her head. To my dismay, so was my mother. “With that ring?” Brenna exclaimed. “No, simple won’t do at all. Where is the wedding being held?”

I opened my mouth, realizing that I had no idea. My mother cut in smoothly. “At St. Patrick’s cathedral. In one month.”

Brenna’s face was awash with confusion. “But he’s…isn’t he…” she lowered her voice conspiratorially, cutting her eyes towards me. “A vampire?” I could see from her face that she was imagining all sorts of salacious goings-on between Dimitri and me. I could only imagine what kind of gossip she’d be circulating after this.

I could tell my mother was preventing herself from rolling her eyes only with great effort. “Now, Brenna, don’t tell me you believe all of those superstitions? That they’re creatures of the Devil and such. It’s foolishness, that’s all it is.”

“But the Church says…”

My mother waved a hand. “Bother what the Church says. Do you honestly think that Dimitri of all people won’t have what he wants?”

Brenna’s eyes widened, and I felt a cold knot in the pit of my stomach. Yes, he would have what he wanted. Me, and a church wedding, and all of the fanfare he could drum up. A pageant to reaffirm his position as the most powerful man in the city. A warning for anyone else who would cross him.

Brenna straightened, waving her hands in front of her face. “Alright, alright. Let’s get on with it then. Anna, that first dressing room is yours. I’ll take your measurements, and then I’ll start bringing you some gowns.  What is your budget?”

“It’s being billed to Dimitri,” my mother said, pulling a piece of paper out of her pocket and handing it to Brenna. I hung back, feeling like a game piece, being pushed and pulled this way and that without any idea what was happening behind the scenes. “There is no budget,” my mother confirmed, and I saw that greedy light flare in Brenna’s eyes again.

In a whirlwind, I was in the dressing room, being measured and then left shivering slightly as Brenna pulled dresses from the rack. She’d exclaimed over my figure, and then darted out, promising to bring back the most beautiful dresses I’d ever seen.

I’d never really cared for shopping, and I hated trying on clothes. If anything, I preferred to shop online. But of course, a wedding dress wasn’t something I could do that with. And whatever the circumstances of my marriage, I didn’t want to deprive my mother of the opportunity to go dress shopping with her only daughter.

On the rare occasion that I had thought about the day I might get married, I had always pictured it outside, maybe on the side of a mountain, and I had always seen myself wearing a flowing, bohemian style dress, all gauze and chiffon, and a long veil that would blow in the wind.

I didn’t see anything like that in the stack of dresses that Brenna hauled into the dressing room. I obediently stepped into the first dress she pulled off of the hanger, and tried not to wince visibly as I saw myself in it. She clamped it firmly in the back and ushered me out.

It was a full ballgown, plain white satin, and strapless. There was a massive bow at the back, and I looked desperately at my mother as I walked out. I felt like a cake topper.

My mother bit her lip, and I could see she was trying not to laugh. There had never been a dress that was less “me”. “Maybe something a little more…elegant?” she suggested, and I could see the laughter still sparkling in her eyes. It relaxed me a little, and made it easier to pretend that this was an ordinary mother and daughter shopping trip.

I lost track of how many dresses Brenna brought me. They all made me feel awkward, weighed down, and like an entirely different person. They were all layers of silk and satin and beading and crystals, and I was nearly in tears by the time Brenna—with considerably more frustration—helped me out of the fifteenth or so dress we’d tried on. It was all too much.

I heard a soft rap at the edge of the door. “I found a few I’d like her to try on,” I heard my mother say, and her tone clearly said she wasn’t having any argument about it. I instantly felt my anxiety clear a little. She must have been looking while Brenna had been putting me in the last dress.

I heard Brenna huff a sigh behind me, but she pushed the curtain aside and took the dresses out of my mother’s hand.

The first one was an instant improvement. It was plain satin, strapless, with a softly fluted skirt and buttoned up the back. I felt lighter already. I stepped out, and I saw my mother breathe out. She’d been stressed for me, too.

“You look beautiful,” she said. “But it might be too simple for this kind of wedding.” I agreed with her. “I don’t really like strapless,” I ventured, and both Brenna and my mother looked sharply at me. I realized it was the first time I’d really spoken for the entire appointment. All of the dresses I’d tried on so far had been strapless.

“The other two I brought in have sleeves,” my mother said.

I went back into the dressing room. The second dress had crystals around the waist, and I shook my head. “I don’t want any of the crystals or beading,” I said, feeling more confident in asserting my opinion now. After all, if I had to go through with this, shouldn’t I be able to choose what I wore?

Brenna looked at me sharply, but took the third dress off of the hanger. It was the right size for me, too, so she was able to button it up instead of clamping it. I stepped out without looking in the dressing room mirror, wanting to see it in the large floor mirror. I crossed my fingers at my side and hoped it would be the one.

“Oh, Anna,” my mother breathed when I stepped out.

I looked in the mirror, and my eyes widened.

The dress was a dream. It was a soft antique white, made of smooth satin covered in embroidered lace from the bodice to the hem. The sleeves were elbow length and fringed in soft eyelash lace, the neckline was sweetheart, dipping just low enough to enhance the shape of my bust without being too daring. It buttoned from the nape of my neck to the end of the train, which swept out behind me in a luxurious sprawl of satin and lace. It looked elegant, and it matched the heirloom feel of the jewels Dimitri had given me perfectly.

My mother came to stand next to me, and handed Brenna a veil she’d plucked off of the rack. It was cathedral length and raw-edged, exactly the type of veil I’d always pictured myself wearing.

My mother slid the comb into my hair, and I felt tears pricking at the edge of my eyes. It seemed so unfair that this moment should be happening like this, preparing me for a marriage I didn’t want. I set my jaw firmly. I would simply have to not think about it, and try to extract what little happiness I could from the event.

It was the only thing I could do.

Chapter 3: Dimitri

The month passed more swiftly than I could have imagined. I spent the days throwing myself into my work, trying to distract myself so that I wouldn’t think so often about how much I missed Bernard, and about the upheaval that was likely to happen when Anna came into the house. I could still see the look of betrayal in Raoul’s eyes when I’d told him of my decision to marry Anna. It wasn’t so much the official status of Anna as my wife that bothered him, I thought. Raoul and I had had a sort of ceremony, over a century ago, marking him as my partner, using the rituals of vampires for such things. To me, it meant more than the human ceremony I would go through with Anna in two days. Anna would be with me until death, but Raoul would be with me for eternity. There was a monumental difference, and I felt that he knew it.

No, his hurt was in feeling that I was replacing Bernard so quickly. I’d held him that night, curled on the loveseat in front of the fire, and reassured him that the marriage was a statement only.

But this morning, when we lay in the massive, velvet-draped canopy bed in our bedroom, I could see the doubts in his eyes again. We were both naked, the heavy covers pushed aside, still damp with sweat. I was nearly ready to sleep, my body satiated, when I felt Raoul’s fingers touch mine. “She won’t come between us, will she?” His voice was quiet, so I almost missed what he said. “You won’t...touch her the way you touch me?”

“I won’t touch her at all,” I said gruffly, ready to sleep. It always amazed me how emotional Raoul was with me. With others, he was even more arrogant than I was, the polished and dapper gentleman to my slightly rougher personality. I supposed it was a mark of how much he loved me that he was so very vulnerable in private. “I’ve promised Anthony I would have nothing to do with her in that way. Not unless she wants it. And I don’t suspect she will.”

Raoul sighed softly. “Oh Dimitri. I know you. You’ll try to seduce her. You won’t be able to bear that there’s someone who belongs to you who doesn’t want you.”

I clenched my teeth, trying to be patient. I was exhausted, and the wedding was rapidly approaching. “Why is this upsetting you, Raoul? You were never jealous of Bernard.” In fact, sometimes the two of you were alone more often than we were, I thought, but didn’t say it. It was a pointless argument. We had never been monogamous, but Raoul had seemed satisfied with Bernard and I. If he had been with anyone else in the last several decades, at least, I didn’t know about it.

“Bernard was like us,” Raoul said. “He was one of us. She isn’t.”

I understood it then. While Raoul had always liked the novelty of humans, he had never been drawn to them the way I was—to their mortality, their fragility. He was jealous of Anna’s humanity, afraid that I would want her more than Raoul, who I could never lose, not truly.

I leaned forward, kissing him softly on the lips. “Raoul, we are each other’s, bound by rituals that are older and deeper than what I will take part in with Anna. Our bond cannot be broken.”

“So you won’t do the vampire marriage rituals with her, later?”

I tried to imagine Anna, the shy, tomboyish girl that I’d glimpsed on occasion on visits to her father’s shop, partaking in the blood ritual of the vampires. I could not even begin to picture it.

“No, Raoul. We will do the standard marriage ceremony, at St. Patrick’s—a place I absolutely abhor, as you well know—for the show of it. It will bring me publicity, and it will show those who deal with me that I am not to be trifled with. And then I will come back to you, and things will be mostly as they were before.”

“She will be on your arm for all of the official things.”

“And you will be there too, Raoul. As my right hand, as you have always been.” I took a deep breath. “I know you would rather I have killed Anthony outright. I know you are not happy with my decision. But it is my decision, and it will not be changed.” I squeezed his hand. “Get some rest.”

---

Raoul’s mood was nearly unbearable the day of the wedding. I dressed without him, looking in the mirror as I waited for the sun to go down and it to be time to head to the church. I stared at my wavering reflection. It was so foolish, the superstitions humans had about us. My reflection wasn’t as clear as a human’s might have been, though; the edges were blurry, as if to remind me always that I lived in some space between life and death, between human and…something else.

I shook my head and straightened my tie, shrugging on my jacket. This was a matter of business. There was no need to be getting emotional or existential. I would go through the ceremony, marry Anna, and come home and it would be business as usual. She would find something to occupy her, and all would be normal.

It was a particularly cold evening. By the time my driver pulled up at the curb of the church, snow was beginning to fall and stick to the sidewalk. I slid out of one side and Raoul out of the other, and I could tell he was studiously avoiding me. I didn’t respond. I simply couldn’t, right now. I needed to focus on what had to be done. Later, I could console him.

Raoul stood beside me as we stood at the altar, the priest looking as grim as I felt. He’d resisted the wedding mightily, but recanted after I made a sizeable donation. Everyone could be bought.

The music started, and I saw Anna’s mother, face pale, as she walked ahead of Anna, her only attendant. I hadn’t wanted to do the wedding party nonsense, and Anna had said nothing to me about it. I expected that she would neither want to lie to her friends about the circumstances of our marriage, or force her friends to go through the charade, as well.

Then the doors opened, and I turned to see my bride walking through the door on Anthony’s arm. I was utterly stunned for a moment, hit with such a blinding flash of déjà vu that for a moment I forgot where I was.

The picture of Anna in my head had always been the quiet, hoodie-wearing girl who helped her father in his shop, who stayed out of the way and never spoke to me. The woman walking through the massive double doors of the church was a vision.

I had married a human woman once, centuries ago when I was still minor royalty, a member of another minor noble house. She had died very soon after our wedding, and though time had blurred the memories, I still longed for her from time to time. I had truly loved her. For a stunned second, I thought I was there, in that Russian church, watching Katerina walk down the aisle.

Anna was wearing an antique lace gown, her face covered with a soft, gauzy veil that trailed down her back and swept behind her. The rubies I had given her and the engagement ring glowed in the light of the hundreds of candles lit in the church, and I swallowed visibly. Not even Katerina had been so beautiful, so ethereal. I heard Raoul clear his throat behind me, and I didn’t know if it was displeasure at my reaction or if he too was overwhelmed by her. I didn’t care. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

And then she was at my arm, her father placing her hand in mine, and the betrayal I saw in Anthony’s face immediately killed the sense of euphoria I’d had upon seeing Anna. The cold reality of why this marriage was happening settled in again, and I set my jaw, turning to face the priest.

I heard the vows being said, but all I could focus on was Anna’s face. I saw her clearly, so close to me. She seemed older than the girl I remembered. Her face was pale, her red-stained lips trembling as she listened to the priest. Her eyes were brown, shimmering, and I was suddenly seized with a desire to touch her face, to assure her that I meant her no harm. That I wouldn’t hurt her.

But of course I was hurting her, in this very moment. I was binding her to me, without love or affection. But I felt I had no choice, unless I was to cause her even greater pain by taking away her father.

I said my vows clearly and with certainty, and I was startled to hear Anna say hers in an equally calm and clear voice, with only the vaguest hint of a tremor. It impressed me, the backbone of this girl, to follow through on my demands and promise herself to me without any sign of fear.

“What God has joined together, let no man cast asunder,” the priest intoned. “Dimtri Sergeyevich, you may kiss your bride.”

She didn’t move. I took the hem of her veil, lifting the delicate material over her face. It glowed in the candlelight, and her eyes caught mine, her lips parting ever so slightly. I leaned towards her, caught in some emotion I couldn’t name. Perhaps it was only the centuries-old memory of Katerina, staring up at me in a church very like this one, waiting for my kiss.

Or perhaps it was the defiant look in Anna’s eyes, as if she dared me to do anything more to her than I had already done.

I leaned down, pressing my cool lips chastely against hers. I felt her stiffen slightly at my touch, and I expected that no one had warned her that I would not be as warm as she was used to, even when I’d recently fed. And I had forgotten to feed before we left, an oversight I now regretted. I knew it would seem thoughtless on my part.

I pulled away, and reached for her hand, turning to face the nearly empty church. Only Anna’s parents, Raoul, and a few of my closest confidantes were here to witness the marriage. The reception would be a different matter altogether, packed with as many of my business associates and acquaintances as I could invite. For the barest second, I thought I felt her fingers curl around mine, but if they did, it was only for a moment, and then her hand was lax in mine again.

---

She didn’t acknowledge me as she slid into the car, nodding briefly at the driver as he held open the door for her. Raoul was riding in the other car, whether because he understood that I had to keep appearances with my new bride or because he was angry, I didn’t know. I couldn’t think of it just now. I had to get through the rest of the evening.

Anna tucked the train of her dress under her legs, her veil pooling on the black leather seat between us. She tugged the comb out of her hair, leaving a pile of gauze on the seat. She ran her fingers over the space where it had been, smoothing the strands back. Her hair was shining, glinting in the streetlights as we pulled out onto the street, and I had a sudden urge to touch it. I resisted, balling my fist against her leg. I had made Anthony and Anna both a promise, and Raoul too, for that matter. I would not touch her. Not unless she begged me for it. And that, I knew, she never would.

Chapter 4: Anna

I could feel the distance between us as the car pulled out onto the street. It was inches, but it felt like an insurmountable chasm. I took a deep breath, looking down at my hands folded in my lap. An antiqued gold band was on my finger, nestled against the diamond Dimitri had given me. It was a distant fear no longer…I was Dimitri’s wife. There was no going back.

I thought about the kiss in the church, the gentle way his lips had brushed over mine. I’d been startled, walking down the aisle towards him, by how handsome he was. I’d seen him in my father’s shop from time to time, but I’d never bothered to really look at him. But how he’d looked, standing at the altar, surrounded by hundreds of candles, dressed in his suit—I couldn’t think of any man I’d ever seen who was more handsome. And I couldn’t deny it, for a moment when he’d leaned towards me, lifting my veil, I’d felt my heart flutter at how close he was to me. I’d forgotten, for a second, that he was a man who had blackmailed me into marrying him, that he had my father’s life in his hands. I’d only seen how devastatingly handsome he was, the scent of his cologne—vanilla and burned wood—and his fingers brushing against my cheek as he lifted my veil. For a moment, I was a woman in lace and jewels, in a cathedral surrounded by candlelight, and a man who looked like a god was about to kiss me.

And then the moment had passed, and I remembered who I was, and who he was, and I had never felt more ashamed.

So I stared out of the car window now at the swirling snow, refusing to look at him, even though I could feel him looking at me. I would have to look at him very soon, at the reception, and play the part of the blushing bride. But I couldn’t do it just now.

The irony of it all was that if I had ever dreamed of a wedding day, I would have been hard-pressed to come up with anything more like a fairy-tale. He’d created a night straight out of a dream, right down to the graceful snow falling from the sky. Not a detail had been missing—except for love. And a willing bride.

He’d rented out one of the finest restaurants in Manhattan for the reception, and as we walked in hand in hand, I heard the cheers and calls of hundreds of people I didn’t know. There was a handful of people here for me—friends of my parents, and business associates of both my father and Dimitri. I had invited a few of my friends, unable to think of an excuse as to why I couldn’t, but none of them had come. I hadn’t heard from any of them in weeks. I knew none of them believed the story of my whirlwind romance with Dimitri—they knew me too well—and they couldn’t imagine any other reason for the sudden wedding. So instead of trying to puzzle it out, they simply faded away.

Somehow, I made it through the dinner and the toasts, a smile forced onto my face. I barely touched my food, laughing along with every joke by some business associate, repeating the fiction about our sudden romance. Before I knew it, the band started a new song, heavy on the string instruments, and a sudden hush fell over the room.

“Well, darling, that’s our cue,” Dimitri said, his mouth quirking up in a half-smile, and he reached for my hand.

I’d seen him laugh and smile with dozens of people all evening, but that was the first time he’d smiled at me. It made my heart flutter again, created a sudden hollow feeling in my stomach. Tentatively, I took his hand, and let him draw me onto the dance floor.

I’d learned to dance as a child, standing on my father’s toes as he turned me around and around the living room. We’d practiced before my first prom, too—I’d been a surly teenager, inwardly laughing at my father as he taught me steps that were nothing like the dances teenagers did. Now, as I stepped onto the dance floor with Dimitri, I was grateful for the dance steps I’d learned from him that let me slide smoothly into the waltz, held gracefully between Dimitri’s hands. I fought to keep my eyes from welling up with tears. I knew Dimitri would notice, and I didn’t want to have to explain myself.

We spun around the floor, and I let myself be soothed by the familiar steps, by the rise and fall of the instruments. I could see the admiration in Dimitri’s eyes as I let him lead me through the dance, matching his steps perfectly. At the end, as we came to a stop in the middle of the floor to cheers and applause, I knew what he would do before he did it. I wasn’t surprised that his fingers curled gently around the back of my head, or that he bent his head, dipping me back gently as his mouth brushed over mine. I was prepared for it, ready to feel nothing.

But I did feel something. I didn’t want to, but the moment his lips touched mine, cool and dry as they were, I felt a rush of heat. I could feel my face and chest flushing, and a sudden, unwanted urge to press myself against him, to part my lips and melt into the kiss. I stiffened, fighting the desire, and I immediately felt him pull back, straightening back into the formality he’d had the entire day, with the exception of that first kiss, at the altar. It made my feelings towards him soften a little. He was, as he’d promised, careful with me. It didn’t fix what had happened, but it did make me feel slightly more conciliatory.

The next song started, and Dimitri released me to my father for our dance. It was nearly impossible, this time, to keep my eyes from welling up with tears. “Are you okay, Anna?” he whispered as he guided me around the dance floor. “I can’t begin to say how…”

I shook my head discreetly before he could say anything else. “There’s nothing to be gained from going back over it,” I said, as firmly as I could muster. “What’s done is done. I’ll do my best to be happy.”

“Dimtri will take care of you,” my father insisted. “I know it isn’t what you wanted, but he won’t hurt you.”

I said nothing. I knew that it was the only small comfort my father still had, the knowledge that Dimitri wouldn’t harm me physically. The emotional damage was done.

As the song ended and I turned to head back to the sweetheart’s table, I caught the eye of a man sitting at the table just behind ours. I recognized him as Dimitri’s best man, although I had been too overwhelmed at the church to do much more than just get through, moment by moment. I hadn’t really looked at him. He was eyeing me now, with a strange mixture of distaste and something that seemed very much like lust, but it was nearly predatory.

I was certain that he was a vampire. I had never met one other than Dimitri, but there was something about his face and the way he held himself that was so very like Dimitri that I couldn’t imagine he was anything else. His face was fresh and youthful, but it was as if time had settled onto it somehow, hardening it. I met his eyes, and I expected him to look away, embarrassed that I’d caught him staring. But he didn’t.

I felt a rush of sensation over my skin, the hairs on my arms prickling. I looked at him carefully, wondering if I might see him again. He was handsome in a classical sort of way. Dimitri was dark and forbidding, with a narrow, sharp jawline and high cheekbones, handsome in a way that was almost fearsome. This man had softer features, still angular but slightly more rounded, more approachable. His eyes were a deep blue, and his hair was dark blond, slicked back. He looked utterly polished, as if he belonged in a New York boardroom, directing a conference. I felt an unwelcome sensation as his gaze followed me, a nervous excitement.

He didn’t stop looking at me until I sat down at the table next to Dimitri. I turned away, ignoring him. Whoever he was, I hoped I wouldn’t see him again soon, if ever.

---

I was quiet as we rode in the car to Dimitri’s home—my home now, too. I was so nervous that I felt nauseous, unsure of how the rest of the night would go. I was sure that Dimitri would keep his promise, and not touch me unless I asked him to—which I had no intention of doing. Still, the idea of sleeping in the same house with him made my stomach knot.

The car pulled up in front of his—our—home far too quickly. The driver came around and helped me out, and I looked up at the place where I would live now. I wasn’t sure exactly what I had expected—a castle with gargoyles, maybe. It was an old building, for sure, in one of the historic districts, made of brick and stone, with arched windows. I followed Dimitri through the doors, into the foyer. He walked around behind me to take my coat, and I caught my breath slightly as his fingers grazed over my shoulders. I hated him, I did. But it had been a long day and he had kissed me twice, and I was only a human, after all.

I looked around, my eyes wide. It was decorated much like I had expected. The walls were brick and stone, like the outside, with exposed rafters along the high ceilings. The hardwood floors were covered here and there with rugs that looked faded but were likely incredibly expensive, and the furniture was all heavy and upholstered in brocade and velvet. There were velvet drapes at the windows of the living area, and a heavy iron and wood spiral staircase to my left.

Dimitri touched my wrist gently as he returned and faced me. “I will give you a more complete tour some other time, as I’m sure you’re very tired. This is the casual living area, and straight ahead are the kitchens. Downstairs are the servants’ rooms, and to the left is a study where I take visitors. The study is locked when I am not there and if you need me for any reason, I would prefer that you send a servant to find me rather than coming in yourself. Upstairs is the library and two suites of rooms, one of which is yours. The floor above is a parlor and other guest suites. If your rooms are not to your liking, you are free to look around the guest floor and see if there is another suite you would prefer.” He reached for my hand, but I pulled it away. He inclined his head, and for a moment, his genteel expression slipped, and he looked utterly exhausted. “Follow me, Anna, and I will show you your rooms.”

I reached for the skirt of my dress, gathering up the long train in my hand so I wouldn’t trip on it. At second thought, I slipped off my heels as well and held them. The polished wood of the staircase was joltingly cold on my toes as I followed Dimitri up the staircase, and I wondered how the heating was in this building. Now that my coat was gone, I was starting to feel a bit chilled.

When we reached the landing, he gestured to the left. “That way is my suite. Just down the hall is the library, and to the right are your rooms.” I followed him, and he pushed open the heavy mahogany door.

There was a wide entryway, with a tightly woven velvet rug over the wooden floor. I heard a crackling as we walked into the expansive room, and I suppressed a small gasp. The bedroom was huge. A four-poster with a canopy and velvet bedding was along one wall, and directly opposing it was a massive stone fireplace. There were bookcases along one wall and iron bars screwed into the stone wall, with my clothing neatly hung. To one side of the bars was a huge wardrobe, where I suspected the rest of my clothing and shoes probably were. The windows were hung with velvet drapes matching the bedding, and to the right I saw an archway that led to the bathroom. I couldn’t see much of it, but there was a massive claw-foot tub in my line of sight. There was another door just past the bed. “Where does that go?” I asked, unable to help myself, despite how little I wanted to talk to Dimitri. I was feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of it.

“There is a small sitting room that way, with a desk and couches where you can entertain guests if you like. There is a fireplace in there as well.” His mouth was twitching slightly, and I knew immediately that he knew how awed I was by all of it. It irritated me immensely.

“Thank you for showing me up,” I said as stiffly as possible. “Good night, Dimitri.”

“If you look in the wardrobe, there will be some new items for you that you may enjoy.” He paused for a second, and then inclined his head again. “Good night, Anna.”

He’d barely stepped away when I realized suddenly that I was still in my wedding dress, and I hadn’t the slightest idea how I would manage to unbutton the hundreds of tiny buttons on my own. “Dimitri,” I called, trying to sound casual. “Is there, er…is there anyone who might be able to help me with my dress?” I cursed myself inwardly for not thinking to have my mother help me change before I left the reception.

“The servants are all asleep by now, but you can certainly ring for your maid if you like.”

“I…I have a maid?”

“To keep your room clean and assist with laundry and any errands you might have, yes.”

I hesitated, feeling a powerful wave of guilt at the thought of waking up my maid, whoever she might be, to come up and help me undress. I heard Dimitri speak, a soft chuckle in his voice.

“If you’ll allow me, Anna, I can help you.”

I wondered if it was a sort of olive branch on his part, or if he simply wanted to undress me. I supposed it could be both. I felt a small stir of wickedness at the idea of letting him see me half-naked, knowing he wouldn’t be allowed to touch me further. I wanted to toy with him, suddenly, to make him as miserable as I felt.

“Okay,” I said softly, and I could have sworn I heard him breathe in sharply.

I heard his footsteps as I stood facing away from him, my eyes fixed on the blood-red duvet on the bed. I felt his cool fingers at the nape of my neck, deftly undoing the top button, and then the next, and the next. I tried to keep my breathing steady as his fingers skimmed down the row of buttons, grazing against my skin here and there as the satin parted away, the sleeves slipping away from my shoulders. I held them in place to keep the bodice from slipping down altogether as he worked his way down, exposing my bare back. I felt him undo the button at the base of my spine, just above the nude satin of the panties I’d worn under the gown, and there was no sound for a moment as he paused. I felt his fingertips touch my spine, brushing against my skin, and for a moment, I wanted to turn and kiss him. I could feel my heartbeat fluttering in my throat, the blood pulsing through my veins, and I could feel his presence behind me, could sense how much he wanted to touch me. “Anna,” he said, his voice barely audible, his fingers still barely touching my back. I hugged my arms to myself, the satin under my hands a reminder of why I was here.

“Thank you. Good night, Dimitri.” I said, hating the way my voice trembled.

“Anna,” he said again, and for a moment I thought he was going to press the point. But I heard his footsteps receding and felt the weight of his presence disappear, and then he was gone.

I let the dress slip away from me when I heard the door shut, stepping out of it and leaving it in a puddle on the floor. I walked to the wardrobe and opened it, blinking hesitantly at what I saw there. Hanging up with the rest of my clothing were two evening gowns—I supposed for whatever events I might have to accompany him to, and several pieces of lingerie—or at least what I would think of as lingerie. I guessed they were actually for me to sleep in—silk nightgowns or varying lengths and two silk robes, one short and one long.  I reached for one of the nightgowns, a deep teal blue with a soft white lace edging, and pulled it over my head. It fit perfectly, hitting just above my knees, and I felt a small shiver as the silk brushed over my breasts. It reminded me of Dimitri’s touch on my back, whisper-soft and sensual, and for a sudden moment I wished he were still there.

It was only the first night, I thought, and already he was getting into my head. How would I resist him for the rest of my life? I had to hope that the newness would wear off; that he would find some other human to toy with; that I would grow accustomed to his presence. My lifetime suddenly seemed endless, stretching out in front of me, and I had to fight back tears as I slipped under the velvet duvet, onto the sheets that felt cool and sensually soft against my body, and laid down to try to sleep.

Despite my anxiety, I must have fallen asleep relatively quickly. I woke sometime in the middle of the night, I suppose. I could hear a clock ticking at the far side of the room, but it was too dark to see what time it might be. I closed my eyes again, but I felt too restless to fall back to sleep. The room suddenly seemed constricting, the blankets too heavy and hot. I flung them off, and walked to the wardrobe, pulling the long black silk robe out and shrugging it on. I pushed open the door to my room, venturing out into the hallway. The house was dark and silent, and I furrowed my brow. Didn’t vampires sleep during the day and stay awake at night? I’d expected that it would be one way that I’d avoid Dimitri, that he wouldn’t really be around during much of my waking hours. But the house was silent as a tomb, and I realized suddenly that somehow he must be sleeping. I had a sudden wild desire to go to his rooms and peek in, to see what he looked like when he was the closest he would ever be to death. But I felt a shiver of fear at the thought, and instead I turned towards the library.

I was surprised, when I pushed the heavy door open, to hear the crackling of a fire. The library itself was overwhelming—floor to ceiling bookshelves took up most of the walls, and where there weren’t shelves, there were huge, arched windows with reading nooks built into them. There was antique velvet and wood furniture scattered throughout, chaises and sofas, and as I stepped into the room, I saw the stone fireplace at the far wall. To my shock, there was a man leaned against the mantel, his back to me. There was something very familiar about him, but I couldn’t place it until I was fully in the room, and he turned at the sound of my footsteps to face me.

It was the man who had looked at me when I was walking back to the sweetheart’s table at the reception. The one I suspected was another vampire. By the firelight, I was even more sure of it. The firelight carved shadows out of his face, making him look positively ancient. It was expressionless as he took in my presence, his hands shoved into his trouser pockets. He was wearing the same clothing he’d had on at the wedding, but he’d shed the jacket and tie, and his white shirt was partially unbuttoned. I could see the hint of his chest, muscled and tanned, and I felt the same wash of desire that I’d felt before, when Dimitri had touched me. What was it about these men that affected me so?

“What are you doing here?” I blurted out, and bit my lip the moment I said it, regretting speaking at all.

He regarded me casually, raising an eyebrow. “I live here, cherie.” His voice had the hint of a French accent. “You’re Anna, yes?”

“You know who I am,” I said, my voice more biting than I intended it to be. “You were at the wedding.”

“Oh, yes. That lovely spectacle. I was there. Didn’t you see me, standing next to Dimitri at the altar?”

“I did,” I said. “So you’re friends?”

“Friends.” He rolled the word over his tongue, as if he were tasting it. “Yes. That is a word for what we are.”

“But, but you live here?”

“As do you, now.”

“I’m Dimitri’s wife,” I said, a touch haughtily. If I was going to inhabit the role, I supposed I might as well get comfortable with it. “Of course I live here.”

He walked towards me, his stride lazy, and stopped barely an inch away. I could smell the wood smoke from the fire and the hint of his cologne. His skin was flushed slightly. He reached out, his finger tipping my chin up so that he could meet my eyes. “Yes,” he said softly. “Dimitri’s wife.” His fingers were warmer than Dimitri’s had been. I wondered what that might mean. “Dimitri’s wife,” he repeated. “Such an innocent little thing. Such a shame, on your wedding night.” His fingers trailed up my cheek and cupped my face, his thumb brushing over the shell of my ear. “Such a beautiful bride you made.”

“Dimitri promised not to touch me,” I said, shivering a little from the sensation of his hand on my face.

“Yes, Dimitri said that to me,” he said, his accent thickening. “But I made no vows to you.”

I shuddered. What could he possibly mean by that?

“Are you cold, cherie? Come over by the fire.” He took my hand, and I felt how strong his grip was. I followed him to the fireplace.

“Don’t worry, cherie,” he said, seeing the expression on my face. “I won’t hurt you. Dimitri would never forgive me. But you are so very beautiful.”

I had never thought of myself as beautiful. I had never thought of myself as anything but very plain. It had been such a strange night, all silk and lace and candles, ancient buildings and creatures just as ancient. I felt as if I’d slipped into some other strange dimension, as if I were part of some story that I’d read. How could this be reality, this home in the midst of Manhattan, so full of the past, and a centuries old Frenchman who looked like a brooding, handsome poet caressing my face?

I felt the heat of the fire creeping into my bones, softening me. His fingers slipped from my cheek to my neck, tracing down the column of it, the tip of one finger settling in the hollow of my throat. “Dimitri would let you molder in that room all your life, and he is so much of a gentleman he would never try to convince you otherwise. There is nothing more valuable to him than his word.” His finger traced my collarbone and I shuddered. I felt hot and languid, some sensation creeping through my veins that I had no words for.

“I will not harm you, cherie,” he whispered. “Say the word and I will stop touching you. I will walk you back to your room and bolt the door, I will sleep at the foot of the steps for you so that nothing may ever harm you.” He was closer to me now than he had been before, his body nearly touching mine. “You looked like a princess tonight, like a queen, a woman who should command men to kneel at her feet, not a bride coming as payment for a debt.” His hand slipped to my shoulder, fingers trailing down my arm. I could feel my skin prickling under his touch, and then his hand was on my waist, and he pulled me against him.

He was lean and muscled, his body hard as stone. His fingers curled into my back, pressing against the place on my spine where Dimitri had touched me earlier, his touch so much softer than this. It had been easy to tell Dimitri to leave, easy to dismiss his hesitant touch. This was much harder to deny, and suddenly I didn’t know if I wanted to. This man had done nothing to me or my family. He had never hurt me. And he had called me a queen, was looking down into my eyes with the kind of desire I’d always dreamed of.

“You should know what it is like to be loved by a man,” he murmured. “And what better man to show you than a Frenchman, yes?” His mouth curled up on one side, laughing at his own joke. “Let me kiss you, mon amie,” he whispered, and then his lips were on mine.

I had been kissed before. More than once. Or at least, I thought I had. But those were not kisses compared to this. His lips were somehow soft and demanding all at once, sweet and insistent. His hand pressed into my back, pulling me tightly against him, and his other hand cupped my face, his fingers in my hair. I felt the press of his tongue against my lips and I parted them involuntarily, letting him taste me. I felt his hips arch against mine, felt how hard he was, and his fingers slipped from my face to my neck. He pulled away from the kiss, his forehead pressed to mine, his breath sharp and fast. “I wish I could taste you, mon amie.” He pressed his lips to my throat, his fingers threading through my hair and pulling my head back gently. “How delicious you would taste. How sweet.”

Minutes ago, I would have been horrified at the very thought. But now, with desire suffusing my body, making me ache for something I wasn’t even entirely able to comprehend, I was having difficulty objecting.

He let go of my hair. “I can’t,” he murmured. “He would not forgive that.” And then his hand was under my chin, pulling my mouth to his once more, and I began to think of the chaise lounge just beyond us, and what it might feel like to be trapped under the length of his body. My hands drifted to his waist, my back arching into his hold on me, and for a blissful moment, I was lost.

And then I heard the door crash open, and felt him stiffen, pulling away from my mouth.

“What the hell are you doing, Raoul?”

Chapter 5: Dimitri

I don’t know what woke me up in the middle of the night. I normally sleep like, for lack of a better term, the dead. But I did wake, and Raoul was gone. I wasn’t altogether surprised. He’d been distant when I’d come to bed after leaving Anna, brooding by the fire for several long minutes after I’d undressed and slid into bed. Perhaps I hadn’t been all that understanding of how he was feeling. But it was difficult to deal with his emotions when I was feeling out of sorts myself. I hadn’t expected to feel anything when I’d offered to help Anna with her buttons. It had been an altruistic gesture, as I’d seen how uncomfortable she was with all of it, and I didn’t think she would wake the maid. I’d suspected she’d have slept in her wedding dress rather than do such a thing, and I wanted her to be comfortable. So I’d offered, and been mildly surprised when she accepted.

I’d been even more surprised at the way the sight of her pale skin, slowly revealing itself from under the creamy satin, had affected me. Perhaps it was the memories of Katerina, leftover from our long-ago wedding day. Perhaps it was the oddness of expecting to sleep in a room that was not my bride’s on our wedding night. Perhaps it was a little of everything. But I’d ached, with every shiver of her skin when my fingers grazed it, to reach for her and pull her into my arms. I’d imagined, as I’d undone the buttons, turning her around to face me, bending to kiss her soft, full lips. I’d imagined laying her back on the bed and sliding the dress away from her body, revealing it inch by inch. I’d thought of what it would feel like to bury myself inside of her, to make her truly my bride.

I knew that none of that was remotely within the realm of possibility, and I’d given her my word not to touch her without her consent—not that I ever would have, anyway. So I’d withdrawn from the room, my last glimpse her standing in the middle of the room, frail and delicate, clutching the dress to her arms.

I’d still been aching when I’d gone to Raoul’s and my room. So I’d had very little patience with his mood. And I wasn’t shocked to find his side of the bed empty when I’d woken. I knew he’d be in the library, and so I’d climbed out of bed, intending to go to him and apologize. And then I’d opened the door and seen him by the fire, Anna clasped in his arms, his lips on hers, her body soft and compliant.

I’d wanted, for one furious, red-washed moment, to kill him. Anna was mine by law, even if I’d likely never have her body or her love, and with the memory of undressing her so fresh in my mind, it drove me nearly mad to see anyone else touching her in such a way. And not just anyone, but Raoul. My friend, my bedmate, and my partner. And he was seducing my wife.

Raoul’s face was expressionless as he turned to face me. Anna was flushed and trembling, her eyes wide with fear. She rushed to me, grabbing my hand. “Dimitri,” she breathed. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking. It was a mistake, Dimitri, please don’t do anything rash. It won’t happen again. Please, please don’t kill him.”

For a wild moment, I thought she was begging for Raoul’s life, and I wondered how he’d gained her loyalty so quickly. And then I realized that she was thinking of her father, and I hated myself, and this blasted situation we were all in, more than ever. She truly believed I’d kill her father because she’d kissed Raoul.

I touched her arm, trying to calm her. “Anna. Anna, I won’t harm Anthony. It’s not your fault. Raoul has a certain…effect on human women. The French are less…stoic about these things.”

“You looked so angry,” she whispered, looking up at me with her wide, dark eyes. “I’m sorry, Dimitri.”

“You’re not the one I’m angry with.” I gently nudged her towards one of the seats, and walked purposefully towards Raoul. He was leaning back against the mantle now, an unapologetic look on his face.

“How could you?” I murmured, gritting my teeth. “That’s my wife, Raoul.”

“You said quite plainly you had no intentions of claiming her in any physical way,” Raoul said, shrugging. “This was a marriage of convenience, yes? So why shouldn’t I try my luck? After all, she has nothing to be angry with me about.”

I felt a stab of anger at his words, and curled my hands into fists. “Didn’t you think that perhaps you ought to talk to me first, before helping yourself to what’s mine?”

“I would think it’s Anna’s decision as much as yours. Or did you expect her to live her whole life as a virgin, since you’ve sworn not to touch her?”

“I said I wouldn’t unless she wanted me to. I’m no monk, Raoul, you should know that.” My tone was dark and biting. “Or have you forgotten what things are like between us in our bed?”

I heard a soft gasp behind me, and I remembered too late that Anna had known nothing of Raoul, or of our relationship. But it was too late to worry about that now.

“She will never want you to,” Raoul said softly. “She hates you, I expect, and she has every right. So you’ll doom her to live a life without love, without sex, like some kind of nun?”

I blinked at Raoul. “What on earth makes you want her so badly?”

“Stop it!” I heard Anna shout suddenly, and I turned, astonished. She was standing next to the chair I’d directed her to, her fists clenched at her sides, and her dark eyes nearly had sparks flying out of them, she looked so angry.

“Stop it,” she repeated, her voice lower now, but no less firm. She looked at me directly. “I’m your wife, Dimitri. It was wrong of me to let…Raoul…touch me.” She said his name oddly, and from the look on Raoul’s face, I deduced that he hadn’t even introduced himself before trying to seduce her. It didn’t surprise me.

“I am your wife by law,” she continued, “but I am no one’s property. I will not be haggled over by the two of you as if I’m a pack of steaks for dinner. Raoul is right, Dimitri,” she said, her voice low and angry. “I do hate you. I hate you because you threatened my family, because you gave me no choice but to marry you, because I’m now forced to live my life without, as Raoul put it, love or sex, or else my father dies.”

She stepped back. “I am going to bed now. Please, leave me alone. Both of you. At least you have each other.”

She spun on her heel and fled out of the room, and Raoul and I were both left staring after her, at a loss for what to say.

***

Three Months Later

I was sitting at my desk in my study, the door firmly closed behind me, staring at the papers in front of me. As was rapidly becoming par for the course these days, I was distracted. And it was because of Anna.

On the surface, the past three months had passed relatively smoothly. After the incident in the library, Raoul had kept his distance from Anna, physically, at least. But I saw the way he looked at her—at meals, passing in the hallway, at events—and I saw the way she avoided his gaze, her eyes dropping to the side and her skin flushing in that uniquely human way. I hadn’t seen much of what had passed between them in the library, but their reactions to each other made it hard not to imagine it.

When I’d proposed the match between Anna and I, I’d put any idea of bedding her firmly out of my head. When she’d glided down that aisle looking like a candlelit princess, I’d made sure to appreciate her beauty in only the most purely aesthetic way. And while I’d felt the stirrings of lust when I’d kissed her, first at the altar and then again at the reception, I hadn’t dared to let my mind wander further.

But undressing her that night had lit the first spark. And then…seeing her in the library, her back arched, her body bowed against Raoul, I’d had even more of an idea of what I was missing out on. I’d kept myself away from humans for the last fifty years or so, since my last human lover had left me, and been only with Raoul and Bernard. But Anna was igniting my desire again, and every time I closed my eyes, I saw her in the library again, and wished for her hands and mouth on me. But I’d made a promise, and I wouldn’t break it.

It didn’t stop me from trying to thaw the ice between us in small ways. I’d briefly touch her hand in passing, letting my fingers linger a little too long before continuing on my way. I’d catch her eyes when she was day-dreaming about something, and let my gaze skim over her in a way that let her know what I was thinking about. She’d always blush, her chest and throat and face flushing delightfully pink, and it was all I could do not to go to her and grab her. It was torture.

With every passing day and week, I grew more and more frustrated. Anna and I barely spoke, but as three months became six, the distance between her and Raoul started to narrow, they were becoming something like friends, and I found myself growing even more jealous of that. Anna fulfilled all of her duties as my wife perfectly, joining us for every meal, spending most of her evenings in the library or the family room with us, and attending events on my arm, Raoul close behind. We never went out on anything resembling a “date” …no fancy restaurants or movies. But she didn’t seem to mind the solitude. At any given time, I could find her curled up in the library with a book, or working on an art project—she was apparently a master at watercolors—or in the small gardens behind the house. Every once in a while, she would send a message to me letting me know she was meeting a friend, but it was rare. And as a result of the time we all spent together, we should have all grown closer. But while she and Raoul seemed to have found a balance, she remained distant from me. And I grew more and more irritable.

One evening, after a charity gala I’d thrown at a nearby hotel ballroom, I retreated to the library as quickly as I could once we walked through the door, not even bothering to take Anna’s coat or say goodnight to her or Raoul. I slumped onto the chaise lounge near the fireplace, staring bitterly into the flames. This wasn’t who I was. I had never been the brooding, emotional one—that was Raoul, with his affectations and romances and poetry. I was stoic, businesslike, hard and relentless when I needed to be.

This had to stop. I had to put Anna out of my head. Let her and Raoul have their fling if they must, and turn a blind eye to it so they would stop smoldering under my nose. I would stop being jealous. I would stop thinking about Anna in a wedding gown, the sliver of pale skin showing in the moonlight under my fingers. I would stop dreaming about her the way I’d once dreamed about another woman standing in a castle bedroom in the moonlight, her skin bared to my hands. Anna was not Katerina. I had been a different man when I’d loved Katerina, and I could not now indulge the feelings that I was harboring for Anna. I had to put her out of my head—her laugh, the way her mouth curved when she smiled, the dry jokes she sometimes made on the nights when she’d had a few glasses of wine and was less tense around us. She was a woman I could have loved, but she was my wife by circumstance and not by choice, and I should not—could not—love her.

But Raoul could. And it was selfish of me to stand between them. Raoul and I shared everything. There was no reason why I should not share Anna—especially since I could not have her at all.

I heard the door creak open, and I looked up, expecting Raoul. Instead, I was surprised to see Anna, still wearing the black satin gown she’d worn to the gala. She was wearing the rubies I’d given her for our wedding day, glowing at her throat and ears, and I felt my breath catch in my throat for a moment. She was a vision tonight, her pale skin made even whiter by the black of the gown and the red of the jewels, glistening like blood at her neck. I felt a sharp jolt of lust, a desire to grab her and pull her into my arms, to bury my fangs in her neck and drink from her. I forced it down, gritting my teeth.

“Anna,” I said, keeping my voice even. “Is there something you need?”

She walked towards me, her mouth tense. She sat down next to me on the chaise, and I stiffened, shocked. She rarely chose to be close to me.

“Are you angry with me, Dimitri?” Her voice was soft, and her hands hovered in her lap. For a moment I thought she might touch me.

I shook my head. “Why would you think that?”

“You were…different tonight. Especially once we were home.”

It gave me a jolt, to hear her call this place home. It was her home, would be her home for the rest of her life, but it still startled me that she thought of it that way. I had always expected that she would think of it as a sort of prison, a place she wouldn’t have chosen to be but was forced to occupy anyway.

“Anna.” I didn’t know what to say. “This isn’t a conversation you want to have.”

“You’ve always been very good at deciding what I should want,” she said, a touch acerbically. “Perhaps you should let me decide for once.”

She’d become so very different in the past six months. Gone was the shy, passive young woman I’d arranged a marriage with. She’d become more sure of herself, carried herself differently. The first event we’d gone to after the wedding, she’d looked as if she’d been about to faint at any moment from nervousness. Tonight, she’d glided around the room effortlessly, making small talk and charming everyone she spoke to. It made me wish, desperately, that our marriage was not all a sham. That she would talk and laugh with me as easily as she did with others. That she would look at me the way she looked at Raoul.

“You want Raoul, don’t you?” I said, my voice flat.

“Raoul and I are friends,” she said carefully. “Nothing more.”

“I see the way you look at each other. If I weren’t in the way…”

“But you are,” she said calmly, looking straight at me. “And that is the way it will be. There’s nothing more to say on the subject, Dimitri.”

“I know there is nothing I can do to keep you from hating me,” I said. “But I don’t wish you to be unhappy. I did promise you that I would do all I could to see to your happiness.”

“I don’t hate you,” Anna said softly.

I looked at her, startled.

“I did, at first,” she said. “I hated you with a passion. You threatened my family, forced me to marry you…what else would I possibly feel? But over time…I’ve come to see things a bit differently.” She paused for a moment. “I’ve spent time, at these social events, with the men you work with. I’ve seen how you interact with them. I’ve seen the respect they give you—something very like fear. And while I don’t pretend to understand how your business works, I see that it is your position that keeps them from trying to take what you have built. I also know that my father’s mistake cost you someone very dear, and I can only imagine what that must be like. I did imagine it, when I thought of the cost of refusing to marry you. I would have done anything to preserve my father’s life, and did, and I imagine that you showed restraint, actually, in not killing my father in retaliation for losing someone you loved.”

I stared at her, unable to think of anything to say.

“I’ve tried to think what else you could have done, besides killing my father or demanding my hand in payment. You could have taken more of my father’s profits, but that might have beggared us, caused us to lose our home or be unable to eat. You couldn’t be responsible for such a thing, not with my mother so ill, especially. At least if you married me, you could see to it that I was well kept, and my family wouldn’t suffer. I see now that you chose what you believed was the least painful way to make my father pay for his mistake—which I see now was terrible—and still maintain your power. And while it is hard to forgive you for what you’ve taken from me, I also see what you’ve allowed us to keep. And for that, I cannot hate you.”

For a very long moment, there was nothing but silence. I could hear Anna’s heartbeat, could see the faint flush of her skin. I was suddenly awash with desire, unable to think of anything but how badly I wanted to touch her. She was looking at me, too, her gaze steady, and I couldn’t bear it a moment longer.

“I promised I would never touch you without your consent, Anna.” My voice was husky, my hands clenched. “Anna. Let me kiss you. Please.”

She stared at me for a long moment. “Yes,” she said softly.

I reached for her, the black satin slick beneath my hands. I pulled her to me, nearly in my lap, and I reached up, my fingers at the nape of her bare neck, just below the upsweep of her hair. I remembered touching the nape of her neck the night of our wedding, just as I began to unbutton her dress, and I shuddered with lust. Her eyes were wide, and she didn’t move. Her lips parted slightly as she waited, and I could take it no longer.

I dipped my head, pressing my mouth to hers. She was soft, and warm—so very warm—and I felt her tense for just a moment, and then she was leaning into me, her hand resting on my thigh to brace herself as she let me kiss her, her lips parting as I deepened the kiss. I plunged my fingers into her hair, the pins loosening as I did so, and I tipped her chin up, devouring her. I could feel her body arch towards me, her breathing quickening as her tongue brushed against mine, her head falling back.

In a flash, I’d grasped her waist and turned her so that her back was pressed against the back of the lounge, and I knelt over her, my hand tracing down her face, her throat, her collarbone. Her chest was heaving in the tight evening gown, and I wanted suddenly to rip it off of her, to see all of her pale skin in the firelight. I understood what Raoul had felt that night. I could sense the barely restrained passion in her, the pent-up need to be touched, and I wanted to give her all of it.

But she’d agreed to a kiss. Only a kiss. I pulled back, dazed with lust, and she stared up at me, her eyes wide.

“Dimitri,” she whispered. “How long have you wanted to do that?”

“Since I unbuttoned your wedding gown,” I said, my voice rough. “Since I saw Raoul kissing you by the fire. I am not flowers and compliments, Anna, I don’t have the words Raoul does. But my god, I want you. I have wanted you.”

“I didn’t know,” she said softly. “I thought…I thought you wanted as little to do with me as I wanted to do with you.”

“Surely you saw how jealous I was of Raoul?”

“I thought it was because I was your wife. Because you didn’t want him touching your possession.” I caught the hint of bitterness in her tone.

“I don’t possess you, Anna. No one does.” I looked down at her wide eyes, her reddened lips. “But I want to.”

Her fingers went to her throat. “Raoul mentioned…that first night…he said he wanted to taste me. Do you…do you really do that?”

I felt my whole body ache when she said that. “Only to those who are willing,” I said, fighting to control the desire in my voice. “Sometimes donors, sometimes lovers. It’s not…quite what you’ve probably heard. It’s more…intimate than that.”

She bit her lip. “I don’t know if I’m quite ready for that.”

All I heard in those words was that this wouldn’t be the last time I touched her, and I felt suddenly elated. “That’s okay,” I said softly. “I would never ask more of you than you’re willing to give.”

“You and Raoul,” she said, hesitating. “I know you’re more than friends. But what…exactly? I’ve never asked, and you’ve never really said.”

I raised my eyebrows. I hadn’t expected that question. I sat back on the edge of the chaise, and she drew her knees up, the long skirt of her gown spilling around us. I struggled to organize my thoughts, still distracted from kissing her only moments ago.

“I met Raoul two hundred or so years ago.” I saw her eyes widen. “I know, it’s hard to think of a space of time like that. Before I was…what I am, I could never have imagined it. And it is difficult, to be with one person for so long. It helps that we are not monogamous, so we are able to explore, knowing we will always come back to each other. Over the years, he has become my closest confidante, friend, and partner. About a hundred years ago, we participated in the marriage rituals of vampires, bonding us together for life. He is, for all intents and purposes, my husband.”

“So you’re a bigamist.” Anna laughed, and I relaxed a little, glad that she wasn’t angry or frightened. “What are the rituals?” she asked, her expression curious.

“For vampires and humans, it involves the exchange of blood. Between vampires, since we have very little blood of our own, it is more symbolic.”

“So if you married me according to your rituals, what would happen?”

“I would drink from you, and then you would drink from me, essentially mingling our blood.”

Anna raised an eyebrow. “I thought it would be more…I don’t know. Weird, I guess. That doesn’t sound that strange, really.” She shrugged. “Kind of romantic, I suppose. Why didn’t you insist that we do that?”

I stared at her. “For one, because I’d sworn I wouldn’t touch you without your consent, and the ritual is very intimate, as intimate as sex. And for another, our marriage was meant as an arrangement, to make a statement to the other humans with which I deal, a warning to others. If I made you my wife according to my rituals…it would be different. It would be because we wished to be married…both my choice and yours.”

She nodded. She was silent for a long moment, and then she leaned forward, her warm hand cupping my cheek gently. To my astonishment, she pressed her lips to mine. “I need to think,” she said softly, when she pulled away from the kiss. “Thank you, Dimitri.”

“For what?” I asked, somewhat astonished.

“For being so honest with me. About everything.”

I nodded, and then she was off of the seat, and gone.

I took a deep, shuddering breath. If there was one thing I hadn’t expected from my marriage to Anna, it was that it would be so full of surprises.

Chapter 6: Anna

When I left Dimitri, my mind and heart were a whirl of emotion. Of all the things I’d expected from him, his offer to allow Raoul and I to carry on a relationship was not one of them. I sat on the edge of the seat at my dressing table, staring at the puddle of black satin my evening gown made on the floor, and reached to unclasp the heavy jewels from around my neck, setting them on the table. They glittered in the low light from the fire, and I touched one absent-mindedly. This was my life now. It was a strange life, but it wasn’t as difficult or as lonely as I’d thought it would be. My days were my own, to do whatever I liked, and I’d grown to look forward to the evenings with Raoul and Dimitri.

Raoul. I hadn’t stopped thinking about him since that very first night in the library. I’d clung to the words he’d said to me, and to the dozens of small compliments he’d given and conversations we’d shared in the months since. I’d formed a bond with Raoul, and I knew that we’d only kept it from going farther for fear of angering Dimitri. The offer was tempting.

Dimitri. I’d hated him when I’d first come here. He’d been my jailor, the man forcing me into an unwanted marriage, a tyrant who only cared about his own power. But since then, just as I’d said to him, I’d come to understand the impossible position he’d been placed in, and the fault of my father in all of it, for which I’d paid. I’d realized what a soul-crushing loss he’d endured—the loss of a companion with whom he’d shared the equivalent of lifetimes. And I’d come to care for him, too. He was more reserved than Raoul, his humor drier, his demeanor more stoic. But in unguarded moments, I saw a man that I was beginning to love, just as I’d come to love Raoul. And now I wasn’t sure what I should do. Dimitri would allow Raoul and I to be together, if I asked for it. Our marriage would continue as it was, a figurehead for his empire. And in private, I would be Raoul’s.

But it would mean never kissing Dimitri again as I had tonight. I remembered his hands, pressing me back onto the chaise, the firm press of his lips, the way his hard façade had melted away and he’d gripped me with all the passion I hadn’t thought he possessed. I’d wanted more. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to give that up.

And then, I remembered the conversation I’d had with Dimitri earlier, when I asked him about Raoul, and I knew what the solution was.

***

I excused myself early from the sitting room the next evening, feigning tiredness. Raoul and Dimitri were in the midst of a rousing debate about some financial issue. I went upstairs, feeling shaky. I was fairly certain my plan would work, but I was nervous. I’d married Dimitri resolving that it would mean being a virgin for the rest of my life. And now I was planning to sleep with not only one, but two men. I felt both nervous and excited, my fingers shaking as I pulled the short black nightgown out of my wardrobe, and pulled the long black silk robe over it. I sat on the edge of my bed, biting my lip anxiously, until I heard their footsteps come up the stairs and retreat to their room. I waited a couple of minutes, and then padded down the hallway, pausing for a nervous moment in front of the door before knocking.

I heard Dimitri’s voice, surprised, call out: “Come in.” I pushed the door open, and was momentarily frozen by the sight in front of me.

The room was set up much like mine. Raoul was sitting in front of the fire, shirtless, and I stared at him for a moment, taking in the broad swath of his pale shoulders, the lean muscle of his arms. I heard Dimitri clear his throat, and I turned to see him standing next to the bed, clearly in the process of getting undressed. He was wearing only the black trousers he’d had on earlier, the shirt and tie tossed aside. His skin was white, and he was leaner than Raoul, but still heavily muscled, the body of a runner. His dark eyes and hair seemed to stand out even more than usual against the whiteness of his body, and I felt my stomach knot, remembering the night before in the library.

“Anna,” he said, his voice cautious. “What are you doing here?”

I stepped into the room, letting the door shut behind me. “I thought about what we talked about last night. About how you would let Raoul and I be together, if that’s what we wanted.”

I heard a small sound of surprise from Raoul, and saw a flash of disappointment cross Dimitri’s face, which he quickly quelled. “But I also thought about last night,” I continued softly, “and how you said you wanted me. About how much I’ve come to care for you, and I think you feel the same way.”

Dimitri seemed frozen in place, as if he wasn’t sure in what direction the conversation would go.

“You told me you and Raoul are together. As married as we are, more so. And so I saw that I have more than two choices. There is a third choice. I don’t want to choose either Raoul or you.” I took a deep breath. “I want both of you.”

I couldn’t have shocked Dimitri more if I tried. His eyes were wide and dark in his face, as if he were trying to process what I’d just said. And then, in a flash, he was standing in front of me, his hands on my upper arms, holding me firmly. “Are you sure?” he breathed. “Anna…” he stopped, swallowing convulsively. “Anna, there is nothing more I could have hoped for in this world. But you must be sure.”

I nodded. “I’m sure.”

I had barely a moment to breathe before his mouth was on mine, hard and demanding, devouring me. It was as if he’d been holding back all this time, and this was the kiss he’d been desperate to give me, taking me in as if I were all he needed to survive. His fingers dug into my arms and I arched my back, closing what little distance was between us. I grabbed his shoulders as he wrapped one arm around my waist, lifting me up and setting me on the edge of the bed, never breaking the kiss. He pulled away for a moment, panting, and I saw Raoul slowly get up from the chair in front of the fire. He was naked, and so handsome he took my breath away. I watched him walk towards us, his gait slow and rolling, his hips swaying, and I suddenly ached to touch him. I looked from Raoul to Dimitri, feeling suddenly overwhelmingly self-conscious in front of these two men, so handsome I could hardly believe they were real.

“I’ve never…” I stumbled over my words. “I mean…I don’t know…”

“Do you want to watch us at first?” Raoul asked, his accent thickening as he spoke. I nodded speechlessly, unable to form words as I watched Dimitri turn to Raoul, and Raoul took him by the arms, pulling Dimitri to him in a deep and lingering kiss.

I’d never seen two men touch before, never even really thought of it. It was fascinating to watch as I let my gaze drift over Raoul’s body, over the sloping muscles of his chest and abdomen, his chiseled thighs, the rapidly growing cock between them. I wanted to touch him, but I stayed on the bed, watching as Dimitri’s hands drifted over Raoul, fingers trailing down his stomach, and finally resting between his legs, his hands beginning a slow, languorous rhythm there. Raoul was working at the clasp of Dimitri’s trousers, pushing them off him, and I saw that Dimitri was rock-hard already, his cock brushing against Raoul’s as the two men kissed. Raoul reached up, running his fingers through Dimitri’s hair as his mouth drifted to Dimitri’s throat, then brushed over his shoulder, and then Raoul dropped to his knees.

I watched, shocked, as Raoul took Dimitri’s member into his mouth, and Dimitri groaned aloud, and then he turned to look at me, his dark eyes nearly black with lust. “Anna,” he murmured, his voice husky and deep. “Come here.”

I slid off the bed, feeling vaguely as if I were in some other place, and went to Dimitri. He bent to kiss me, his lips vibrating against mine as he groaned, and I felt Raoul’s hand begin to slide slowly up my leg, and as Raoul touched me, Dimitri’s hand went to the ties of my robe, undoing them and sliding his hand up my waist, his palm cupping my breast, the pad of his thumb trailing over my nipple through the silk. I shuddered, moaning softly into Dimitri’s mouth, and Raoul’s hand slid further up my leg, his fingers brushing across my inner thigh, and then I felt his hand between my legs, and heard him groan when he discovered how wet I already was.

My knees were shaking, my body trembling from the newness of the sensations, and Raoul rose, gathering me up in his arms and laying me back on the bed. He leaned over me, and dipped his head to kiss me, his lips brushing softly over mine. Dimitri was on the bed next to us then, his hands running over Raoul’s body, and I saw Raoul’s back arch as Dimitri reached for his cock again, his hand drifting over him slowly. Raoul touched my cheek, staring into my eyes. “Mon amie,” he whispered. “Ma petite cherie, ma petite amour.” The French endearments brushed over my skin with his lips, trailing from my cheek to my throat, and I felt, for the barest of a second, his fangs pressing into my skin before he kept going, his mouth stopping at my breast, sucking my nipple into his mouth as his other hand slid through my hair, down my shoulder, and across my other breast. I arched my back, moaning, and I felt Dimitri’s fingers between my legs, brushing over a spot so sensitive that it made me writhe and moan with every touch, as Raoul worked his way down my body.

He brushed his lips over my hipbones as I pressed my head back into the pillow, gasping, and then suddenly his tongue was between my legs, and I cried out with surprise. I glanced to the side, and saw Dimitri leaning down between Raoul’s legs, Raoul’s cock in his mouth, and I felt a shock of lust run through my body at the sight. It was like some fantasy, these two godlike men mad with lust over me and each other, and I felt my stomach knotting tighter and tighter as Raoul spread my legs with his hands, holding them firmly apart as his tongue slid over me, and I heard the cries coming out of my mouth, and was almost embarrassed at how wanton I sounded. And then Raoul pressed his mouth against me, hard, and I forgot to care about anything at all. The pleasure washed over me in waves, leaving me boneless and gasping, my back arched so hard I thought it might break, and then suddenly Dimitri was over me, and I could feel his hard cock pressed against me. I was on fire, hot with lust, and I was surprised at how cold he felt comparatively. “Tell me if this doesn’t feel good,” Dimitri whispered hoarsely. “It’s a bit of a shock, at first, sometimes. I will stop, you only have to say so.”

I nodded, barely able to think, and I caught a glimpse of Raoul, kneeling on the bed, his hand lazily wrapped around his own cock, stroking, as he watched Dimitri press his hips slowly forward, his hand hard on my thigh, holding me in place as he inched forward.

There was a moment of sudden pain as I felt him press into me, hard and thick, the coldness of him a shock, and then I felt myself give way and he sank into me, groaning aloud as he clutched my hip hard with one hand, the pillow above my head with the other.

He began to move slowly, his hips rolling against mine, and I awkwardly tried to meet his rhythm. “Easy, Anna,” he whispered. “Slowly.” I relaxed into him, and a moment later Raoul was next to me, stretched out on the bed beside us, kissing my lips, my throat, my shoulder, his hand drifting over my breasts as Dimitri slowly thrust into me. The pain was still there, a faint ache, but it was slowly replaced with pleasure—not as much as a moment before, but still there. I let my hand slide down Raoul’s body, enjoying the ripple of muscle under my fingertips, and I wrapped my hand around him, feeling him pulse and throb in my hand. Raoul groaned, his head tipping back, clearly enjoying my touch, as inexperienced as it was.

I looked up at Dimitri, his face tense, awash with desire, his eyes nearly glowing as he looked down at me. “Anna,” he whispered hoarsely, and I looked up at him, suddenly full of love for both of them, a sensation of happiness that I hadn’t dreamed I would feel.

“I want you to drink from me,” I whispered, desire racing through my body at the thought. “I want to be yours. Both of you.”

Raoul stared at me, his hands suddenly in my hair, pulling my mouth to his. “Oh,” he whispered, a torrent of French that I barely understood coming from his lips. Dimitri had stilled, and I could feel him throbbing inside of me, his body rigid with control. “Are you sure, Anna?” His voice was shaky. “There is no going back. You will be bonded to us forever, whether you are here or a thousand miles away. You will always be able to feel our presence, and we you. It is stronger than anything you can imagine.”

“I’m sure,” I whispered. Dimitri swallowed, and then I felt him surge forward, his mouth dropping to my neck, Raoul took my wrist, and a moment later I felt their fangs against me, and there was a moment of sharp, impossible pain, and then I felt only pleasure, like a warm glow suffusing my body, as Dimitri’s lips pressed to my neck and Raoul’s to my wrist. Heat washed over me, my skin prickling in its wake, and settled somewhere in my abdomen, and as Dimitri thrust into me again, harder and faster this time, I felt a sudden explosion of pleasure, even stronger than before, and I felt the vibrations of Dimitri’s groans against my neck as he buried himself in me, his body shuddering against mine.

He pulled me up, sitting astride him, and Raoul moved faster than I thought possible. A moment later, blood was trickling from a shallow cut in Dimitri’s throat, and he was pressing my mouth to his neck. I tasted it, hot and metallic in my mouth, with a sweet tang, and for a moment I was shocked. And then I felt Dimitri’s arm lock around my waist, felt him still buried inside of me, and Raoul’s lips still slowly sucking at my wrist, and I drank from him, swallowing his blood.

Dimitri sighed, a long, shuddering sound, and then he lay me back against the bed slowly, moving aside to lie next to me as Raoul moved over me. He was hard as stone, throbbing as he slid into me, his movements slow and restrained, as if he might explode any moment. I could feel a small trickle at my neck and wrist, but I ignored it as Dimitri did the same to Raoul, opening a small cut at the base of his throat, and Raoul pulled me up, his hips plunging himself up into me as I bent my mouth to his throat, his blood flowing into my mouth. Dimitri’s hand was at my back, his fingers drifting over my spine, and I could feel it—a heightened awareness of every touch, every movement. Raoul was groaning above me, and suddenly his arm was hard around my waist, squeezing me to him as he shuddered, and I felt the hot sensations wash over me again, a sharp juxtaposition to how cold he was inside of me, and then we fell back onto the bed together, the three of us a tangle of limbs.

We were all boneless, exhausted, barely able to whisper endearments to each other as we drifted into a deep sleep, the two men on either side of me.

I woke briefly sometime in the night, and their arms were still locked across my waist, holding each other and me at the same time.

I had never imagined such a thing, had never believed that my marriage to Dimitri would bring anything but misery. But now, nestled between the cool bodies of both men, my own body still faintly pulsing with the memory of what had happened, I felt only peace, and a kind of overwhelming happiness that I had never dared to imagine. I closed my eyes, feeling peaceful sleep begin to drift over me again, and for the first time in months, I could think of nothing but how very content I was.

The world was a very strange place, indeed.

THE END

CLAIMED BY THE NEW ALPHA

STORY DESCRIPTION

Curvy Eva Haywood, a brainy Harvard Business School student, has come back home to the sleepy town of Beaver Creek in Yukon. Rather than follow her peers to high-flying jobs in the big city, Eva returns to her hometown to help her father run his diner, but just for the summer. After all, she’s lucky enough to have a high-powered fiancé back in the city awaiting her return.
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“If he doesn’t set your heart on fire, then leave him before you’re dying on the inside and flirting with the gardener.”

Why can’t Eva get those words out of her head?

The truth is, there’s only one man that has ever set Eva’s heart on fire. Ever since she was little, Eva has silently worshiped a local resident, Sebastian (Seb) Waverly. He and his father run a small lumber business. But sexy Sebastian is a brooding wild card, spurning most of the women who regularly throw themselves in his path. There’s no way he’d fall for a curvy girl like her. In fact, he has never muttered more than a few words to Eva.

No. No hearts afire for Eva. Her place is back in the city in a “pleasant” relationship with her “nice” fiancé.
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Unknown to all but himself, Seb is head over heels in love with Eva and always has been. But, he firmly believes she’s too good for a man like him. So, even though he’s noticed her for as long as he can remember, he only ever watches from afar. Now that she’s back, though, maybe, just maybe, he can finally gather the courage to talk to the one and only woman who renders him tongue tied and speechless when comes anywhere near her.

Everything changes, though, one crisp, clear evening when Seb is attacked by a wolf. Although he manages to kill the wolf, he suffers a bite in the struggle. When he awakens the next morning, Seb learns that those old tales, the ones he grew up with and has since scoffed, the ones of humans shifting forms to become wolves, are all true. And, now that he has killed the alpha of a shifter pack, tradition dictates he must lead the pack as its new alpha.
His first task as new alpha? Paying his respects to the slain alpha’s daughter – Eva.
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Can Eva ever forgive the only man who has ever set her heart on fire?

How can Sebastian ever be able to win the hand of the only woman his heart has ever truly belonged to?

Chapter 1

Eva gave the already gleaming counter-top another wipe. Today had been slower than most, despite the warm weather, and she once again questioned her decision to spend the summer cocooned quietly away within the sleepy town of Beaver Creek. She had exchanged a highly-prized internship at one of the best trading firms in the city for a summer replacing coffee filters and folding napkins in her father’s diner, where she had worked every summer for as long as she could remember.

“That’s a big sigh, what’s up?” Her co-worker, Leslie-Anne, a perky blonde who had the accolade of being voted ‘Miss Beaver Creek’ three years running in the local beauty pageant, interrupted her thoughts.

“I’m good, it’s just felt a bit slow today, that’s all.” She replied.

“Every day’s slow round here – you know that. Missing big-shot city living?” Leslie-Anne winked at her, and Eva smiled back. Eva knew it took a lot for Leslie to make light of her career and study opportunities. She would have killed to get out of this town, and could never understand why Eva came back every summer.

“You got a man out there?” Leslie-Anne asked.

“Well. Yeah, kind of. He’s sweet…” Eva faltered, and Leslie-Anne burst out laughing.

“Oh, honey, if that’s all you can say about the man then forget it. If he doesn’t set your heart on fire, then leave him before you’re dying on the inside and flirting with the gardener.”

Eva managed a weak smile in return. She knew Jimmy was a good catch, he had graduated top of his class and was already set up with a position at a hedge-fund company in Manhattan. He was a good man too, kind and generous – which was something of a rarity in that world. Strange then, when she was about to embark on an exciting new chapter in her life, she still couldn’t ignore the deep, almost primal, call to the empty wilderness of Beaver Creek. Whilst people like Leslie-Anne hated the place, Eva felt like the Creek ran through her veins; the unique scent of birch trees, rich earth and sunshine was more alluring to her than any perfume.

Leslie-Anne suddenly became a flurry of activity, applying another layer of bubble-gum coloured gloss to her pouting lips, and fluffing up her hair in the reflection of the chrome fridge. Eva heard the sound of a beaten-up truck pull into the forecourt and rumble to a stop. She felt a flutter of anticipation as she hastily smoothed down her apron and re-tucked her shirt. Leslie-Anne swept past her to the hostess stand. Picking up a set of menus she quickly adjusted her uniform on her cute, slender, petite frame. That’s why I’ll never have a hope in hell, thought Eva. As if on cue, Sebastian Waverly walked through the door.

In that moment, the day’s sun gave its last glare as it fell behind Yukon’s White Mountain range, bathing the diner in hazy red light. Sebastian’s figure seemed to dwarf everything else in the cosy diner, making the place feel at once too small, but also irrelevant, as Eva felt her world fall away. He was tall and permanently sun-kissed from his lumbering job, his tightly muscled frame was evident through a well-worn shirt and sawdust-coated denim jeans that clung to his hips. Shadowed by the setting sun, his face appeared darker than usual: his eyes almost black. They were complemented by equally dark stubble that covered an arrogantly set jawline. His hair was the only soft aspect of his appearance, worn slightly long, so that it curled gently at the nape of his neck. Looking past Leslie-Anne, he turned his gaze toward Eva, his lazy stare jolting her out of her trance. Mortified to be caught looking she blushed fiercely and cast her eyes downward, keeping them trained on the linoleum floor as Leslie-Anne escorted Sebastian and his father, who Eva had barely noticed, to a booth in her section.

“You boys ready to order?” Leslie-Anne leaned forward toward Sebastian, enveloping him in her cloying perfume.

“We’ll have burger and fries – same as always, honey.” Sebastian’s father replied, handing her back the menus.

“Sure I can’t get you anything else, Seb?” Leslie-Anne’s question was loaded as she looked longingly toward Sebastian, but all she got in return was a tight smile.

“We’re all good, thanks.” He turned his attention back to his father. Leslie-Anne seemed like an okay sort of girl, but she didn’t really do anything for him. He’d been with women like her in the past, and it was fun for a while, mainly in bed, but they weren’t much for stimulating conversation.

“What’s wrong with you kid? She’s a nice-looking girl.” Sebastian’s dad prompted as Leslie sashayed away from the table.

“Dad – dating advice, really?”

“You’re thirty Seb, and I want grandkids. In this lifetime.” The older man glared at him. Seb knew he was only half joking – the subject had come up all too often lately.

“Yeah, yeah. I know it.” He sighed and let his eyes wander over to the far end of the diner where Eva stood at the counter pouring coffee. Her hair was tied back into a messy bun, with one golden brown tendril escaping down by the side of her face. He watched her absent-mindedly push it back and laugh at something one of the customers said. He felt a surge of heat wash over him as his blood responded to every atom in his body needing to stand up, walk over to her, and drive his hands through her hair, watching it cascade down her narrow back. He imagined pulling her lithe figure towards his chest and feeling those adorable rosebud lips forcefully pressed against his.

He felt a tight stirring in his groin, and cursed himself inwardly. His sharp exhale of breath caught his father’s attention. Before Sebastian could look away, his father followed his gaze across the room.

“Don’t even think about it, son. ”

“I’m not.”

“Yeah, well – make sure you don’t. You don’t want to get mixed up with that family. Trust me. Besides, that girl is going places – old Hayward’s been boasting about how his daughter’s engaged to some fancy Harvard grad.”

On seeing Sebastian’s jaw clench tightly, his father dropped the topic. Sebastian tried to feel happy for her. She was too good for a town like this – if you could even call it a town – and his father was right, she would go places. He just hoped the man she’d chosen would treat her right; make her laugh, take her away, wake her up in the middle of the night just to kiss the hell out of her. He would.

“Okay, he’s as sexy as a Hollywood hero, but he is one arrogant ass” Leslie-Anne came over to Eva, slamming down her notepad to emphasise the point. Leslie-Anne didn’t take rejection well.

“Yeah, he’s good-looking.” Eva turned away from her friend. She hated conversations where Sebastian was mentioned, paranoid that she wouldn’t be able to keep her emotions in check, that her body would betray her. Eva knew he was out of her league; he always seemed so cold and indifferent toward her. She didn’t know if it was better or worse that he treated Leslie-Anne the same way – a crazy part of her almost believed, in her more wistful moments, the apparent dislike was unique to her, and that it might have meant something. Yeah right. That was utterly crazy.

The last two summers she’d been in Beaver Creek she’d spent any spare time she had escaping to the edge of the forest where he was working, watching from the shadows of the trees, listening to music or reading. Just to be near him. His bare chest and biceps would ripple with muscle as he lugged impossible amounts of wood, and mid-afternoon a light film of sweat would cover his torso. In those moments Eva longed to run her hands over his body, feeling it’s emanating heat. Just recalling those treasured mental images made her feel dizzy.

Leslie-Anne went back to the kitchen to flirt with one of the chefs, and Eva was glad for the respite. The evening had fully set in now, and the few customers left seemed content to linger over their coffees. She was packing away condiments when she felt a prickling at the back of her neck, her body reacting to his presence before she could fully register it. She looked up slowly, trying to calm the leaps in her chest before facing him. Sebastian stood at the far end of the counter, waiting for her attention with a small smirk on his face.

“I’m so sorry – do you need the check?” She could feel the heat rising to her face for the second time that day, and cursed the effect he had on her.

“I do. But we’re also heading out to the White Mountain tonight, staying in a small lodge – we’ve got a rush job on that starts in the morning. Any chance we could get sandwiches or something to take?” Sebastian folded his arms defensively. He wished the other girl were here; it was almost painful talking to her. He could see a delicate blush colouring her cheeks, making her eyes brighter – endless pools of clear blue that he wanted to drown in. God help him, he needed to stay away from her. Let her fiancé enjoy the lethal combination of her innocence and gentleness combined with a body that any man would happily worship till the end of eternity.

“Yes. We can do that. That’s fine – any preference?” she could hardly believe they were having an actual conversation, he had never done more than nod in the past, or given a throw-away ‘thanks’ as he left the diner.

“Whatever. Meat is good.”

“Sure. Isn’t that a bit dangerous?” Eva wanted to bite her tongue as soon as the words came tumbling out of her mouth.

“What – meat? I’ve faced worse dangers than cholesterol.”

“No, I meant White Mountain, at night – isn’t it dangerous this time of year? Bears, wolves, that sort of thing?”

“Not really. But thanks for the concern.” She saw him smirk again, and felt like an idiot for voicing her thoughts, of course a man like Sebastian could handle himself.  She was grateful to turn away and put the order through. Finally speaking to him had sent her body haywire, and she felt an odd lump at the back of her throat – it hurt her heart a little that he was completely indifferent toward her. She hated herself for building such ridiculous delusions in her head about a man she didn’t know, who clearly had no interest in knowing her.

Back in the kitchen she asked Leslie-Anne to get their check and send the sandwiches over. She took a moment in the stock room, placing her heated palms against the cool metal of the larder and fought to control the tears she could feel trying to escape. There was a part of her that wanted to laugh at herself, getting so wound up by nothing at all, but niggling away at her was a potentially deeper truth that she didn’t want to acknowledge – the fear that the eternal draw she always felt to Beaver Creek was a lot more to do with Sebastian Waverly than was in anyway acceptable.

Chapter 2

Sebastian lit a fire while his dad loaded equipment into the basic lodge that they habitually stayed in when they came to the mountain range. It was better than camping, especially in the winter, but up here where the altitude was much higher, there was little they could do to keep out the bite of cold in the air.

Once the fire was roaring his father came and sat down beside him, busting open a couple of beers. They sat in companionable silence; Sebastian watching the flickering light cast fragments of gold in the dark. He thought about what it would be like to have Eva here with him, how her porcelain skin would look against the fire, and what her body would look like, naked under the glow of the full moon. He felt himself stir in response, and placed the cool beer on his forehead. It was time to forget her, to move on with his own life.

“Going to be a cold night.” His dad announced, opening up a flask of whisky from his inside pocket.

Sebastian nodded in response, but refused his fathers offer to share.

“You know, this entire forest used to belong to the Tanana people,” his father continued speaking in a low tone, “They were part of the wolf spirit clan.”

“Yeah – I know this dad, mum used to tell me the stories as a kid.” Sebastian laughed  – he couldn’t believe that his dad, a man known for his taciturn nature, was trying to tell him old tales around a campfire.

“Yeah, I know but I want you to listen to me.” His father sounded firm, so Sebastian just smiled and let the man continue.

“The Tanana people believed that they were either part wolf or crow.  Wolf always had to mate with crow, and visa versa, to keep their people alive. If a wolf mated with a crow their first-born male offspring would become a shape shifter, and would be sworn to protect the rest of the Tanana tribe.”

Sebastian thought back to his mother, dead almost ten years now, and how she had painted a mural of cows that flew across the wall of his bedroom. Always love a crow Seb, and never chain it down. That’s what she’d always said to him before kissing him goodnight. His dad poked at the fire causing the wood to crackle, sparking loudly in the blanket of the night’s silence.

“When the invaders came, the Tanana tribe died out – not enough wolves breeding with crows. But we’re all descendants, really. Some have more wolf in them than others.” The old man took another gulp of whisky.

“Yeah, I can see that – old Higgins looks pretty feral some of the time.” Sebastian tried to lighten the mood. His father looked so morose as he stared into the fire, as if he were lost somehow.

“Don’t joke son. The Tanana is strong in you.”

“Alright dad. Listen, you want to get inside? I’ll pack and put the fire out – get some rest.”

His father stood up slowly, and Sebastian saw him wince slightly as he straightened out his back. His father had lived a hard life; constant labour work, few luxuries or pleasures, a wife that died all too soon. If you looked closely enough, as with most of the men round here, you could see it written in the deep lines of his face.  Sebastian knew that he could do a lot more with the lumber business – expand it, hire more men, get contractors across the globe to partner with. Potentially build up the town of Beaver Creek, get a thriving workforce going. But his dad didn’t have the energy anymore. Sebastian was looking forward to taking over when the time came – he wanted his dad to enjoy what was left of his life – not work until he dropped down dead.

The door of the lodge closed shut, but Sebastian didn’t really feel like getting to bed yet. He like being out here alone at night, the silence of the forest was almost deafening, save the odd scuttling in the bushes and occasional bird flutters. The stars were blazing in the sky, and it always felt to Sebastian like they were putting on a show just for him. He didn’t take stock with all the spirit nonsense that some of the people, including his father, believed in the Creek – but a part of him wondered, after he’d lived his life and Eva had lived hers, that somehow they would find their way back to each other each other in that sky, and be entwined for the rest of time as blazing twin stars, resting side by side. He laughed at himself then and checked the alcohol percentage on his beer – that woman was driving him crazy.

As he sat trying to clear his mind, the heavy crack of a branch alerted him to a presence in the forest behind him. He stood up, tense. He had scoffed at Eva before, but this region was full of predators. Standing as still as he could, he tried to listen to the sounds of the forest. A slow, heavy panting came from the north of him. Sebastian quietly crouched down and picked up a thick branch that was half lit by the fire. Both bears and wolves were usually frightened off when they saw flame, which is why Sebastian thought it was odd they would willingly come exploring here. It likely meant that whatever beast this was, it was an exceptionally hungry one. He heard more noises coming from the south of him, and then the west. Sebastian realised that if these animals chose to strike, he would be surrounded. The only animal in these parts that hunted in a pack formation was the wolf – if they were starving he was in serious danger.

His fears were confirmed when one of the wolves stepped from the shadows into the light of the fire. He was a huge, snarling creature. As he approached Sebastian his hackles rose and he leant back on his front paws, poised to strike forward. Sebastian could hear the others following suit – obviously waiting for their leader to make the first move.  Sebastian waved the branch in his direction, standing with his legs firmly planed in the ground. If he were going to make this out alive, then he would need to be ready.

There was a rusty axe about a yard away from him that he had used to break some of the branches with earlier, but he didn’t want to turn his back on the leaders’ approach. A small part of him wondered if it would be a good idea to call his father out – maybe two men would make the pack think twice, but he dismissed the idea, it was too dangerous.

“Just me, then – and a shit-load of you. Bring your worst, dog.” He spoke softly, and in the moment before the wolf leapt toward him, he noticed its eyes shining in the dark, an unnaturally bright white tinged with blue. The wolf was on him in an instant. Sebastian swung the branch at its face forcefully, sending the wolf's open jaws away from his own face, but not flinging the creature far enough. He threw himself toward the axe, landing on his side, and his fingers closed gratefully around the handle. As he pulled it toward him, the wolf leapt upward and upon him, sinking it’s huge, gleaming teeth into his shoulder blade.

The pain that ran through Sebastian was excruciating. It felt like every part of his body was screaming; his shoulder blade seared with heat as if it had been lit up with gasoline.

In a surge of adrenaline that almost made him black out, he drew the axe upward and then crashing down on the wolf, embedding the hilt into the thick fur at it’s neck, cutting through the tough sinew of flesh, blood and bone beneath. He let his own head fall back on the hard ground beneath him.

He knew it was only a matter of time before the rest of the pack fed on him, ripping his body apart as they shared out their meal. Sebastian looked up at the stars, his eyesight starting to blur as his body succumbed to darkness. He felt strangely light, as if his body was floating on air. He made a silent prayer that there wouldn’t be much left for his father to see in the morning, and as he closed his eyes against the night, the last thing he saw was the figure forever imprinted on his conscience, Eva. Always Eva.

Chapter 3

Eva made her way along the back-roads to her home, she was later than usual - the larder fridge had malfunctioned at work and she’d spent hours after closing transferring all the food into a holding container out back so it wouldn’t spoil. She was tired and dirty, longing for a shower.

Ahead she could see the lights of her parent’s house, offering a guide as she made her way along the unlit road. There was a full moon tonight, thought partly obscured by cloud, and she half imagined she could hear the woeful howling of creatures in the dense forests of the White Mountain. She hoped Sebastian would be all right out there.

She wrapped her jacket more tightly around her as a cold breeze ran across the surrounding fields. Her ears pricked up again, and she wondered if she really could hear howling.  A mournful sound echoed across the valley of the Creek, and the hair on Eva’s neck stood up as she heard it. She didn’t know if it was the nature of the sound, or something else, but she felt an unbearable wave of grief flood through her, so strong it gripped at her chest and could be felt right down in the pit of her stomach.

As she struggled to comprehend the sensation, it was rapidly replaced with another. A bolt of warmth burst throughout her body, removing the cold chill she had experienced a moment before, and leaving her heart fluttering in it’s ribcage. She felt light, woozy almost with a strange feeling of joy and contentment that was completely inexplicable. Sebastian. His name entered her conscience, as if someone had spoken the world out loud to her; her own body seemed to sing it, vibrating with the knowledge of his existence.

Eventually the intensity of the feeling left her and she slowly refocused on her reality, realising that she had been standing inert in the middle of the road without knowing for how long. She half ran the rest of the journey, feeling a sense of total freedom and release; as if she ran fast enough she might take flight and soar into the sky, outrunning the wind.

“Mom?” She dumped her bag down by the door and made her way into the living room. She could see her mother sitting on her armchair, lit only by the side lamp. The room felt a little chilly – which was unusual as her house was often over-hot and stuffy.

“Eva? I’m so glad you’re home. I was worried about you.” Her mother’s voice sounded a little thick, as if she’d been crying. As Eva got closer, she could see the red rims around her mother’s eyes, and her usually radiantly beautiful face looked worn and crumpled.

“Oh, Mom! What’s wrong?” She held her mother tight in her embrace, noticing for the first time how frail she seemed.

“Nothing’s wrong, nothing to worry about.” She tried to smile up at her daughter.

“Mom – I can see you’ve been crying – tell me.” Eva perched herself on the armchair, not willing to let her mother cover up her misery.

“I’m just being a silly old woman, really. Can I get you something to eat, darling?” She hastily wiped away the remaining tear tracks on her face and gave a small laugh.

“I’ve already eaten. You’re not silly or old. I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too.” Eva’s mother looked up at her. She reached her hands upward and held her daughter’s face gently cradled in her palms. “You’re so beautiful Eva Haywood. Your father and I have always been so very, very proud of you.”

Eva smiled, “Never as beautiful as you.”

“Oh hush – rubbish. Listen to me Eva.” He mother had stopped smiling and looked deep into Eva’s eyes, “There’s nothing for you here - ”

“Mom!”

“No listen to me, carefully – I’m saying this because I love you. I want you to marry that man, Jimmy, have beautiful babies and live a long, happy life.”

“But Mom - ” Eva tried to protest, to find a way to explain the truth of her feelings.

“I know you don’t love him. But that doesn’t always matter so much if you can find happiness in other things, and you will Eva. Don’t listen when Beaver Creek calls to your heart - listen to your head instead, you’ll find peace that way.”

Eva stared worriedly down at her mother. This was so unlike her. She loved her husband fiercely, and had such a happy marriage. Eva could remember previous conversations from when she was younger, where her mother had told Eva repeatedly that one day she’d find a man she fell head-over-heels in love with, and suddenly the world would make sense.

“Go to bed, honey. We’re going to have a big day tomorrow.” Her mother patted her hand gently, “Leave me here – I’m going to see in the dawn, just this once.”

Eva left reluctantly, making her way upstairs to her room. Her mother was clearly deeply unhappy about something. She hoped when her dad came home from his fishing trip in the morning she would feel better. Maybe she just missed him.

All in all, she thought, as her head hit the pillow that night, it had been a very strange evening.

Chapter 4

Sebastian came to with a jolt. The morning sun was too bright above him, and he instinctively lifted his arms to shade himself. As he did so he felt a dull throbbing ache at his shoulder blade, and last night’s events came flooding back.

He bolted up into a sitting position, his eyes coming to rest on his father sitting on the fallen log next to the long-dead fire. The pair stared at each other, Sebastian frantically scanning his father’s body to check if he was hurt. He seemed fine, and Sebastian exhaled a sigh of relief.

“I’m sorry, Son.” His father broke the silence before Sebastian could speak.

“What the hell happened?” asked Sebastian. He felt groggy and stiff, feeling the effects of spending the night on the forest floor.

His father sighed, his eyes cast downward. He hesitated a moment before finally speaking, “It was time.”

“Jesus dad, what are you talking about? There was a pack of wolves here last night, I was attacked - I thought I was a dead man – how on earth am I still alive?” Sebastian stood up and surveyed the forest floor. No dead wolf.

“I thought…I thought I killed one, maybe I’m imagining it…” He looked at his father, incomprehension written across his face.

“Well, you did. You were attacked – though, well, the pack wasn’t here to kill you. The creatures you saw last night are the remaining Tanana shape-shifters.” He said the last line in a near whisper, but Sebastian got the gist of his explanation.

“Dad, I’m sorry, but please don’t start with that stuff again, I feel like shit, and I’m confused as hell right now. Do we have any coffee?”

Sebastian slowly made his way toward the lodge to collect the supplies and find the camping stove he and his father bought with them on most overnight trips.

His father was silent while he set up the stove and got the water boiling. He was still trying to make sense of what had happened, the only conclusion he could rationally come to was that his father had found a way to scare them off, otherwise – well, it was a miracle he was alive.

“So what did you do – how did you get rid of them?” he asked, mixing up the coffee for the two of them, and handing his father a cup.

“I didn’t. I told you – they weren’t here to kill you. Did you hear a word I said last night?” His father sounded angry, but his aggressive tone was tinged with sadness.

“The wolf has always been strong in you,” he continued, “Haywood knew it, he wanted you to join the pack, but I kept telling him to wait - ”

“Eva’s father? What’s this got to do with him?” Sebastian’s question was curt, and his father raised his eyebrows in an unspoken question.

“He is, was, the pack leader.” Replied his father.

“Was?”

“You killed him last night. They boys have already taken his body. You’re the pack leader now, son.”

Sebastian sunk his head into his hands. This was all too much to take in, he didn’t know if his dad had gone crazy, or if he had. All he could really comprehend was that he had somehow managed to kill Eva’s father. The realization hit him full force, and he felt sick to his stomach. Not only had he taken another man’s life, but he had taken a life that was so precious to the one person he wouldn’t ever want to hurt for all the world. Eva would never forgive him.

He would never forgive himself.

“I know you’re hurting. I know this is some scary, strange stuff – but I need you to understand that you took his life trying to protect your own. They should never have done it like this.”

Sebastian pulled himself together and looked at his father.

“Say for a moment I believe all this wolf crap – I want to know, is this the reason we’ve been selling timber to Haywood for years for nothing?”

“Yes. I was buying him off. Making him wait.”

“Jesus dad.” Sebastian started to clear away the equipment, he was trying his best to untangle some logical sense in what his father was saying, or at the very least to poke some holes in his whiskey-induced theories, “And if I’m wolf, then why aren’t you?”

“I was. I stopped succumbing to the urges when your mother got sick.” He took a gulp of coffee before continuing, “Didn’t want you to grow up alone. I rejected my wolf, and eventually the call to change became weaker. Haywood never really forgave me.”

Sebastian tried to process what his dad was saying, but he couldn’t really comprehend the idea of his own father as a creature similar to what he’d seen last night.

“Where are the rest of them – the pack?” Sebastian asked.

“Waiting where we parked. Waiting for you.”

“Great.” Sebastian picked up the hiking rucksack that carried all their belongings. “You coming?” he asked his dad.

“Billy Payne’s picking me up later this afternoon. You need to do this by yourself.”

Sebastian eyed him wearily. “You knew this was going to happen last night, didn’t you?”

His dad replied with a wane smile, “Yeah. But believe me, it’s the thing I’ve been dreading most ever since I held you in my arms as a baby. But it’s the way things got to be.”

Sebastian nodded. He didn’t have much to say to that.

He turned and made his way into the forest, in a mile or so he’d pick up the dirt path and make his way down to the truck, and, if his father were to be believed, a leaderless pack of waiting wolves.

Chapter 5

A group of roughly four or five men stood waiting for Sebastian when he entered the clearing where his truck stood. They surrounded the vehicle. As he drew closer, he recognized all of them as town locals, but seeing them stand like this, he saw the similarities between them all – they looked in a strange way like a family, or he supposed, a pack. All were tall, all had varying degrees of muscle – the younger ones sinewy and almost lanky, the older men built on the sturdier side.

“How’s it going?” one of the younger boys called out, with a big grin on his face. Sebastian recognized him as Taylor, a boy of about sixteen he knew quite well – Sebastian had slept with his mother the first autumn that Eva went off to Harvard. At the time he didn’t think he would ever see Eva again; Taylor’s mom was a tool to drive away the pain.

“Hey.” He spoke curtly, not quite able to join in with Taylor’s jovial tone.

Strangely enough, they all looked pretty happy to see him. Sebastian nodded toward Logan, the garage mechanic in Beaver Creek, who he’d occasionally had a beer with, and his son, Felix, a boy of about eighteen and his friend Elliott – a boy who had a notorious reputation, and had been in and out of juvenile detention since he was about fourteen. He was a nice kid though, as long as you didn’t put a drink in him. The unreality of the situation aside, Sebastian was starting to feel a bit more normal – these were all good guys he knew and respected. He was startled to see boys so young here, but they were good kids.

Then Lucian Trestler stepped around from behind the driver’s cab of the truck, and Sebastian started to feel less comfortable. His expression was anything but welcoming. His jet black hair was slicked down with so many layers of gel you could practically see the birds in the sky reflected off it, and his pock marked skin looked as greasy as his hair. He was wearing the same too-tight black jeans he always wore, and studded black leather cowboy boots. He flicked down a cigarette butt on the floor, as if it were a challenge, then stepped forward and slowly ground it beneath his heel.

Sebastian curled his lip. Lucian was a nasty piece of work – Sebastian had heard stories about the way he treated co-workers and women alike. There were rumours that he also had a thing for young girls. Really young girls.

“You feeling up to being our leader, boy?” Lucian said with a sneer. He spat out a stream of gob on the front wheel of Sebastian’s truck.

“Leave it, Lucian” Logan interrupted, shooting Lucian a dirty look. Sebastian just stared at Lucian. Men like him, disgusting men with no morals and no dignity didn’t threaten or scare Sebastian. They just made his blood run white-hot with rage.

“If you don’t think I’m up for it, why don’t you challenge me – that’s how it works, right? Then I’ll have an excuse to rip your fucking head off.” Sebastian’s voice was low, calm and deadly.

There was silence, and then Lucian roared with laughter.

“Maybe I will, maybe I’ll do just that.” He walked off toward another waiting truck.

“Felix, Elliott, go with Lucian. Taylor – you ride with me and Seb.” Logan barked out orders to the younger kids.

“Really?” Felix looked pleadingly at his dad, when Lucian was out of earshot.

“Yeah – keep him calm, kid.” Logan squeezed his son on his shoulder, before walking toward Sebastian’s own truck. “You got the keys to this beast?”

The two trucks exited the White Mountain forest, and joined the highway back to Beaver Creek.

Chapter 6

Sebastian pulled into the driveway of Eva’s house. He cut the engine but made no move to exit the car. Lucian and the others had stopped off at a gas station to buy beer and crisps.

“I know it’s tough. I’m sorry Seb. It wasn’t your fault.” Logan agitatedly ran a hand through his hair. Taylor was subdued for the first time since they’d left the forest.

“And Eva knows nothing about this, right?” Sebastian asked.

“She knows nothing. Her mother does,” replied Logan.

“So we lie to her?”

“Yeah. We lie. Say it was an accident. As far as she knows, her dad was on a fishing trip all this weekend.”

Sebastian looked down at the dashboard and felt sick. He was about to break her heart. He, Logan and Taylor piled out of the car. As soon as Sebastian’s feet hit the gravel pathway, he felt the familiar tug on his chest that he always felt when he was around Eva. As if a string was pulling him from the inside, always guiding him true and steady, to her.

Eva was in her room. There were stacks of study books weighing down her desktop that she had barely looked at since she arrived home. At the moment she was happy lying on her bedspread, letting the light summer breeze wash over her. The same feeling of contentment from last night had been growing steadily again since about two hours ago. She had decided not to question it, and just let it flood through her body unexamined.

The only worry was her mother. She had made her breakfast this morning, and had tried to put on a brave face, but Eva could see she hadn’t slept last night. Her father had been delayed on the fishing trip, but when Eva had tried to ask her about it, she had been shut down. The subject clearly made her mother anxious, so Eva decided to drop it. If her parents hadn’t been so blissfully happy together she would have been worried about an affair or something similar, but for all her father’s bad points – Eva knew he wasn’t the easiest man in the world, as much as he loved both her and her mother – she didn’t believe he would do anything like that.

Her contemplation was interrupted by the sound of a very familiar truck pulling up in the drive. Eva’s heart skipped a beat and she ran to the window, and looking down she saw Sebastian exit the truck with two other men. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans, his hair even messier than usual. She felt a delicious shiver unfurling down her spine: he looked even more heartbreakingly beautiful than usual. She heard the knock at the door and hastily ran to her dresser to check her reflection. Her eyes were a little shadowed from such a late night, but other than that she was okay. She shook her hair out of it’s headband and smoothed out some of the kinks.

She heard her mother open the door, and started making her way downstairs. Her legs felt a little wobbly, causing her to clasp the banister. She heard the group make their way into the kitchen, their voices muttering softly.

She stood for a moment in the hallway, composing herself before she opened the door.

“I’m so sorry Mrs Haywood. More than you know.” Sebastian was speaking to her mother. As she entered he turned to look at her, and for a split second she saw a naked glance of such intense remorse, regret and pain that it jolted her. The look was swiftly replaced by his usual mask of indifference, leaving Eva to believe she must have imagined it.

“Hi Eva” Taylor smiled at her uncertainly. She noticed he was with Logan, who was looking stonily at the floor.

“What’s going on?” Eva asked hesitantly. Logan was meant to be on the fishing trip with her father.

Her mother came toward her and embraced her tightly. When she drew away, Eva could see she’d been crying again.

“Eva, forgive me, I couldn’t find the words earlier. It’s you father - ” she was struggling to finish her sentence, her breathing coming out in ragged grasps. Sebastian gently interrupted, “Your father passed away last night, Eva, I’m so sorry.” He looked at her directly, his expression carefully blank.

Eva felt as if the floor had shifted away from beneath her, and she clasped onto her mother. White noise filled her head.

“I’m sorry, what, what did you say?” her words came out in a whisper.

It was Eva’s mother that answered her this time. “I’m so sorry. He’s gone. Eva, I’m so sorry.” She broke into heavy sobbing. Eva watched her, disorientated – she knew she should be comforting her, but her body didn’t seem to be able to move. Instead Logan gently took her mother into his arms. She clung onto him.

“How?” She directed her question at Sebastian.

“It was a fishing accident. He fell in the lake.” His reply was short, but not unkind. His eyes were watching her every movement, as if she were about to fall to the floor, or break down and start screaming hysterically. But Eva felt empty.

Internally Sebastian was a typhoon of misery and rage. He hated lying to her, hated what he’d done. Most of all he hated watching the light die from behind her eyes. When she had entered the kitchen he had been dumbstruck by her beauty. There was something that had changed, as if something inside her had shifted – a lightness that hadn’t been there before. Now it was draining out of her, and he was responsible for destroying whatever that light was.

“Your mother should get some rest. Taylor can take her upstairs. I’m going to wait outside.” Logan gestured to Taylor. The boy took her gently in his arms and escorted Eva’s shaking mother out of the kitchen.

She was left alone with Sebastian.

He stood, silently. Not moving a muscle, just watching her.

“Can I get you anything, or call someone for you?” he asked, breaking the heavy silence.

Eva almost laughed at that, clearly he wanted to be as far away from her as possible. The knowledge of that almost sent her over the edge, as a great ball of sorrow built up within her.

“No.” She felt a little blurry. Her breath started coming in short little gasps, as if a heavy weight was pushing down on her chest. She put her hand out to grab the kitchen counter, holding herself upright.

“Shit – you’re having a panic attack.” His voice came through to her as if he were standing at the end of a long tunnel. She heard Sebastian rummage through the cupboard under the sink, but she couldn’t see anything properly, and black shapes kept dancing across her vision.

Sebastian held a paper bag up against her mouth, “Breathe into this, and put your head between your legs.” He commanded. He stepped away and pulled out a chair, gesturing for her to sit down. She moved over, trying to catch and control her heavy gasps for air. They remained in silence, Eva slowly calming her breathing, and Sebastian standing a few paces away from her.

Eventually Eva removed the bag from her face and sat upright. She knew her eyes were full of tears, and felt vaguely ashamed of her emotions in the face of his cold exterior.

It took all the control Sebastian was capable of not to pick her up in his arms and hold her tight, gently caressing and kissing her pain away. He felt repulsed at his feelings toward her – if he wasn’t so violently in love with her he could have comforted her properly, like he knew he should be doing now, but was incapable of. As she sat on the chair, trying to calm herself, he could see she wasn’t wearing a bra. In response he could feel his jeans become uncomfortably tight around the crotch, and abruptly turned to face the window, away from her. He was here telling Eva that her father had died, knowing he was the cause of it, and yet his body betrayed him so utterly – his lustful feelings toward her didn’t belong in this moment. This moment or any moment, he mentally checked himself.

“Sebastian?” It was the first time she had ever called him by his name. He spun round, and their eyes locked. In that moment he almost lost all control – there was something about his name coming from her lips that spun his world on its axis.

“I – I feel like my heart is breaking, help me” The words rushed out of her mouth, and she burst into body racking sobs, each one an arrow of pain shooting through Sebastian’s soul.

Lucian chose that moment to enter the kitchen. Taking one look at Eva, he rushed over to her weeping body and took her in his arms.

“It’s okay baby, it’s okay – I’ll look after you.” He muttered soft nothings in her ear as he held onto her. Sebastian thought he was going to punch something. He wanted to walk over and rip the disgusting letch off her. He clenched his fists tightly and folded his arms across his chest, as if to imprison himself from movement. He didn’t want to cause a scene, he didn’t even deserve to be in her house, let alone stop her from getting the comfort she so desperately needed.

Taylor, Elliot and Felix had followed Lucian into the kitchen, and Sebastian felt a small amount of the tension leave him – Lucian wouldn’t try anything with the kids here. He was pretty confident that Taylor would happily knock him out if he did.

With a movement of his head he gestured for Taylor to join him outside. Once in the hallway he spoke, “Taylor – don’t leave him alone with Eva, you got that?”

Taylor didn’t even look surprised at the request, “Course. I’m good with Eva, I’ll watch her.”

“Good. Thanks Taylor.”

With that he left that house and joined Logan at the truck, “I need to get out of here.”

Logan nodded. “Did you tell Taylor to stay with Lucian?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t trust him with her. Never did, especially don’t now. Haywood was always blind to it, but the way his eyes would follow that girl around the room - ”

“Enough!” Sebastian slammed his fist down on the hood of the truck. He was immediately contrite – Logan felt the same way he did, “I’m sorry man - ”

“No need to apologise – it makes us all sick and angry. We’ll sort it out.” Sebastian nodded. It was definitely going to be sorted out.

Chapter 7

The next day, Logan took Sebastian into the lumberyard to practise shifting. It was a hot day, the sun’s rays beating down relentlessly on the two men. They were both striped down to the waist, and Logan had insisted that Sebastian set aside his usual denim jeans for tracksuit bottoms. Logan’s chest and back were covered in tattoos, large intricate tribal symbols that snaked around his body, further defining his muscles. Sebastian, logging and cutting wood all his life, was completely ripped – every single part of his body appeared artfully created, as if he had been sculpted by a master with the ultimate depiction of man in mind.

The first lesson was limbering up; Logan insisted that the body needed to feel relaxed and comfortable within itself to allow for easy shifting. After a few routines, Sebastian felt the tension he usually carried around in his back and hamstrings lessen considerably. He was starting to enjoy himself, and the more physical exercise they did, the better he was able to get out of his head, and his morbid thoughts.

When they eventually got around to shifting, the last vestiges of disbelief Sebastian had were removed. Logan had asked him to sit on the ground, and “call up” his inner wolf by letting his mind wander within his body, and find the spirit there that would unlock the change. Sebastian had been baffled by his request, until, in the quiet of the empty yard, he had felt a small, repetitive tug deep within the pit of his stomach. It felt similar to the sensation he experienced when he was around Eva. He focused in on it, till the feeling grew larger, consuming his body. As it did so, his thoughts turned to her – flashes of images danced through his vision; her rosebud lips parting in a smile, a lock of her hair resting on the nape of her neck, her shapely legs moving across the diner floor, the way she had looked one summer’s afternoon in a white sundress, reading in the dappled shade.  Then another moment, pure fantasy on his part, of her eyes, calling to him, innocent and wanting. Caught in the pleasure of that dreamy landscape, the change took over.

He felt his muscles grow stronger and leaner. His body lengthened, forcing him to fall forward into a crouching position. He could feel the hair on his head, jaw and chest grow till it covered his entire body with rich, dark brown fur. It felt at once completely strange, but also utterly natural – as if this was his body’s true form.

He looked up to see Logan smiling.

“I’ve got to hand it to you – I didn’t think it would be that quick.”

When Sebastian went to reply, the sound that came out was a thick growl. But the words he wanted to speak came through loud and clear in his own mind.

How long should it take?

“About an hour for a first timer – that was about five minuets,” replied Logan.

You can hear me?

“Yep - other shape shifters can, and your mate will be able to, when you find her. See if you can change back, should be easier this time.”

This is so weird.

Sebastian focused his mind again on his body, locating the strange tug again within the pit of his stomach. He transformed back again, swiftly. He felt a loss as he did so, in wolf form he had felt a connection to everything around him – the dry soil beneath his paws, the individual particles of air that surrounded him, and imagined he could hear the trees of the White Mountain forest whispering to him.

Back in human form he rested up against a set of dusty oil drums, and gratefully took the bottle of water that Logan handed him. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat, and his body ached as if he’d run for miles.

“It’s hard work the first time, but it gets easier,” said Logan, “and it happens naturally when we experience strong emotions – anger, pain, joy.”

Sebastian drank deeply from the bottle, finding relief in its coolness.

“I just don’t understand why my dad didn’t want this for me. It feels amazing.”

Logan looked uncomfortable. “Haywood requested you when you were only fourteen. I think your dad just wanted a normal start in life for you. A chance to choose your own girlfriend or wife, to get out of this town.”

Sebastian sighed, that hadn’t gone very well. No woman he’d ever been with could eclipse his feelings for Eva. “What’s this crow thing? My dad mentioned it, but I was a bit out of it,” he asked Logan.

“I guess he told you about the tribes right? All shape shifters find their counterpart – their crow, eventually. It’s how the line of shape shifters continues. Crows are always women, kind of unflattering comparison, right?” Logan laughed at his own joke before continuing, “My dad used to say they were the ones that bought the magic – they don’t shape shift themselves, but they enable wolf offspring to shift.”

“Do all of you have a crow?” asked Sebastian.

“I did. She passed away.” Logan’s tone became softer, and Sebastian could sense the heartbreak and overwhelming loss underlying his words, “But the boys don’t yet. Neither does Lucian – though he has a crazy belief that his is Eva.”

Sebastian felt his body tense, and an inhuman growl escaped from his lips. Logan looked at him in surprise, and then smirked.

“Oh. I get it,” he said.

“Get what?” Sebastian glared at him, his jaw clenched.

“Nothing man, just…nothing.” There was a beat of awkward silence, then Logan sat down beside Sebastian, stretching out his legs, and gave a contented sigh.

“Haywood refused to believe Eva was crow. What a joke – that girl’s full of this magic, anyone can see it – the way she’s drawn back here every summer? She’s got Beaver Creek blood in her, she just doesn’t know it yet.”

“She’s got a fiancé. She’s headed for better things, Logan.” It hurt to say the words out loud, but Sebastian knew it was the truth. And better, he thought, that she was with some rich, successful man than a low-life like Lucian.

“Maybe. Maybe things will change.” Logan smiled to himself, and stood up. “Fancy an afternoon hunt?”

Sebastian’s stomach grumbled in response, he was starving. The wolf in him stretched luxuriantly in anticipation, hunting right now sounded perfect.

Chapter 8

“Mom?” Eva peered around the dimly lit bedroom. She could hardly discern the hump on the bed, but it stirred at the sound of her voice.

“Eva?” her mother’s voice came out muffled and tear choked.

“I bought you a cup of tea.” Eva placed the cup on the bedside table, restraining herself from pulling the blinds open and letting in the sunlight and fresh air.

She came and sat down on the bed, and peered down at her mother. It was understandable, but she’d never seen her mother in this state. She was usually so well put together, always immaculate.

“Mom, I’ve called Auntie Jane to come and collect you.” She spoke softly, and reached out to stroke her mother’s hair, “I’m going to sort out the funeral, and speak to the lawyers – you don’t need to do a thing, I just want you to be somewhere where you can be looked after.”

Her mother made a mumble of protestation, but she clutched at Eva’s hand and after a moment whispered her thanks.

“They’ll be here in an hour, so why don’t you go and have a shower? I’ll pack.”

“Oh, Eva – it should be me looking after you – I’m so sorry, I just can’t - ”

“Mom – I know, please, you shouldn’t have to look after me, really, I’m okay.” She gave her mother a fierce hug.

As her mother walked towards the bathroom, Eva gave a small sigh of relief. It would be much better for her at her sisters. Auntie Jane had a lovely husband and two younger children that would be able to distract her, as well as give her the space to mourn without worrying about being a burden to Eva.

Eva was glad to be busy. She had a meeting with her father’s lawyer tomorrow, and the funeral arrangements would keep her occupied all week. She didn’t really think her father’s death had sunk in yet; she felt a loss at his absence, and had experienced her fair share of tears this morning, but she was ashamed to admit to herself that the thoughts that had been circling her head all morning were those of Sebastian Waverly.

She’d been embarrassed about her outburst in front of him yesterday, but worse that that was her uncontrollable yearning for him. She shuddered when she recalled how cool he had been towards her – unable to give her the tiniest bit of comfort, his distant assistance when she was having a panic attack was so bitter sweet; showing her that he was capable of being caring and attentive, but at the same time had absolutely no interest in her.

She also knew that she needed to speak to Jimmy. She had no right remaining engaged to him when her feelings were so strong for someone else – even if those feelings were going to give her nothing but a wasted heart.

An hour or so later she was waving goodbye to her mother and Auntie Jane from the front porch. She felt strangely isolated as they drove off down the drive, and the stillness of the house when she closed the front door felt oppressive.

Straight away she went through to the kitchen and picked up the phone, dialling Jimmy’s number.

“Jimmy?” She could hear the busy New York streets in the background.

“Hey babe! You’re speaking to the youngest guy at Merrill Lynch to sell eighty-six million worth of bonds in a single day! Sub-prime, but who’s gonna care, right?” He laughed gleefully down the phone.

“That’s amazing news Jimmy,” she tried to match his light-hearted tone but it came out slightly off.

“You okay babe? You sound funny. Hey, Jake – Jake! Get me a pitcher!” he broke off to shout at colleague, and Eva held the phone away from her ear.

“Jimmy, it’s the wrong time to call – can I call you later?” she asked.

“No babe – now is great. Seriously – what’s up?”

She heard a girl giggling in the background, followed by a sultry voice muttering something. Jimmy shushed her, and she heard him move into a quieter area.

“Babe?” he repeated.

“Sorry to call you like this Jimmy, I know you’re busy - ”

“You need to get down here babe! Come celebrate!” he sounded so jubilant, she hated to rain on his parade, but if she didn’t do it now, she was frightened that she would never find the courage again.

“I don’t think I’m going to come back, Jimmy.”

“What? Are you kidding me? You’re going to stay in that hick back-town?” his voice was incredulous.

“Yeah, I know…It’s just,” she paused, trying to collect her scrambled thoughts, “I feel like I need to be here. I need the engagement to be off. I’m so sorry Jimmy. Truly I am – I never wanted to hurt you.” She exhaled, feeling a great sense of guilt but also relief. It felt right.

“You’re an idiot, Eva. I can’t believe this! You’re gonna what? Work your butt off in a shitty diner, marry a farmer? Jesus – I thought you were supposed to be smart!” She heard someone call him again, followed by raucous laughter.

“I gotta go, Eva. You’ll come to your senses. And you should – there are a shit load of hot women here, don’t think I’ll be waiting around forever.” With that he hung up the phone.

Eva placed her handset down quietly on the table and sat still for a moment, feeling well and truly alone.

Chapter 9

The entire pack joined them for the hunt. After shifting in the deserted parking lot at the base of the White Mountains, they all raced together into the dense thicket of the forest.

They ran in formation, and Sebastian was surprised to find that they all naturally let him take the lead. As they ran his awareness of everything – the slightest shift in light formation through the leaves, the sound of beetles scuttling under dry leaves – left him feeling utterly overwhelmed and unable to focus on anything singular within the cacophony of noise and scent.

A moment later that changed. He became drawn to a thick and heavy sound of blood steadily pumping, and could almost taste rich iron on the tip of his tongue. Focusing in on his senses, he guessed by the apparent size of the beast his prey was some kind of mountain lion. He started to salivate, imagining the meaty muscle about to be devoured.

The rest of the pack caught on to the smell, and they chased the creature upwards to one the several precipices of the mountain range, till finally cornering it by a cliff-edge of smooth rock. The lion was huge, hunched into an attack mode, breaking into an ear-shattering roar as the group of wolves surrounded him. He was majestic, his coat a beautiful shade of desert gold and his eyes like liquid amber.

Sebastian stared into the eyes of the beast, and realised his mistake. He couldn’t kill an animal like this: any meat in the forest would do, there was no need to kill such a graceful, dignified creature.

He turned to look at Logan, who whimpered slightly in agreement.

Let’s leave this.

The pack reacted instantly, relaxing their posture and he could feel the sighs of relief emanating from all but one.

No! Lucian shouted at the group, let’s kill it - I’m hungry!

Leave it Lucian. Sebastian warned him, his voice steady.

Lucian disobeyed the order, crouching into attack position. Elliott leapt forward snarling, moving in front of the lion, protecting it from Lucian’s advance.

Lucian barrelled through him, knocking the young wolf flying. Elliott skidded along the flat stone, frantically trying to claw into the impenetrable rock. In an instant his hind legs slipped over the precipice.

A howl escaped him, and echoed throughout the valley below. Without hesitating, Sebastian flung himself forward, jamming his splayed claw into Elliot’s front leg. He pulled backwards, his claws ripping into flesh as he dragged the wolf back onto the rock.

With Elliott safe, Sebastian turned to face Lucian. The Lion had already fled.

What were you thinking? You just endangered the pack. Sebastian growled at Lucian.

We’re wolves. We hunt. That’s what I was doing. It might be new to you, boy – but I do things the wolf way, Lucian snarled back.

That was not the wolf way, Lucian. You know better than that. Logan stepped forward, so angry the fur on his back stood on end. We never endanger our own.

Another move like this Lucian, and you’re out. Sebastian glared at him. Even as a wolf Lucian looked more aggressive, more violent than the rest of them. More snake than wolf, Sebastian thought, with such slit-like eyes and oily fur.

You wouldn’t dare. Lucian replied.

Don’t test me, Lucian. Sebastian turned his back on him, and the rest of the pack followed his lead. He could feel the resentment in each and every one of them burning toward Lucian.

As they set off back into the thickets of the forest, Sebastian realized Elliot was hobbling slightly behind the rest due to the gash in his paw.  Sebastian let Logan take the lead and slowed down to join Elliott.

You okay?

I’m alive thanks to you, man. Elliot’s voice reverberated with hero worship, and he practically bowed before Sebastian. Stoked you’re pack leader. We’ve been waiting for this for a long time.

Sebastian smiled at the young wolf’s enthusiasm. He felt pretty good about it too. Out here in the forest he felt free, capable of anything with his new found agility and speed.

Sebastian heard paws thundering behind him. Lucian came into view, practically leaping over Sebastian to get ahead; I’m going to take what’s mine he growled, as he raced on and off from view.

It took a moment for Sebastian to comprehend what he meant. Once he did, Sebastian sped off after him into the thickets of the forest, freeing any restraint he’d previously exercised over his wolf form as fury overtook him.

Chapter 10

Sebastian stood hidden at the end of the driveway, careful not to crunch the gravel underfoot. The moon was less visible tonight, the stars blanketed. Coming from the valley of the White Mountain he could hear a faint rumble as rolling thunder spread closer to Beaver Creek. There was a summer storm coming, he could practically smell the rain, there would most likely be a torrential downpour tonight.

He watched the house ahead, the kitchen light was the only sign that someone was home, but he couldn’t see any movement coming from within.

Sebastian waited patiently. He had lost Lucian in the forest, but knew this is where he would head tonight. Over his dead body would he be getting anywhere near Eva. He felt the familiar tug in the pit of his stomach and tried to calm down; when Lucian showed up he didn’t want to frighten Eva by appearing in his wolf form.

It wasn’t long before his wolf senses picked up on the familiar smell of patchouli oil and stale tobacco. He could also smell an undercurrent of hard liquor; Lucian had clearly been hitting the bottle heavily this evening. He scanned the fields that surrounded the house but came up empty. The smell was inescapable though, and getting stronger. Sebastian deliberated again over shifting. If Lucian was in wolf form and he wasn’t, he’d have a harder job of both finding him and getting rid of him.

Eva had taken a few calls from relatives and set up an appointment with a funeral director in the nearby town. She wanted to go through her father’s things - the racing paper in the lounge, the rolling tobacco discarded in various hidey-holes throughout the house – so her mother wouldn’t have to find it on her return.

Listlessness had overcome her late afternoon, and she’d taken a nap. On awakening she didn’t seem to have the energy to do much, and had found herself sitting back in the kitchen, staring out of the window and waiting for the incoming storm.

The land around the house was isolated; something she’d never had a problem with till tonight. She could hear the winds picking up and whistling through the attic, echoing throughout the empty house.

She was startled out of her reverie by the sound of footsteps making their way slowly up the back porch. Sebastian? She stood up from the chair, half fearful, half hopeful. She waited for a knock or some sign of an announcing visitor. Instead, her blood ran cold at the sound of the rusty doorknob turning on the outer screen door.

“Eva? Darlin’?” She knew that voice. It was Lucian. Shit. Eva had never been in a room with him alone, her mother always made sure of it. The way he looked at her was enough to make her skin crawl. She hastily grabbed her phone, searching for Logan’s number, or someone in the vicinity that would be able to get here fast.

She heard him coming down the hallway, following the light to the kitchen. She could smell the whisky fumes emanating from him.

She took a deep breath; she could handle this if she remained calm.

“Hello Lucian. I’m in the kitchen.” She walked over to the butcher’s block in the centre of the kitchen, reasoning that it would put enough space between them, and held all the heavy-duty cooking utensils items in its lower shelf.

“Hey there sweetie-pie” he gave her a sloppy, lecherous grin as he entered the room, “your prince has arrived.”

Hardly. He started to walk toward her, a little unsteady on his feet, but still a huge hulk of a man that was practically salivating over her.

“I got something here to show you, little baby.” Her responding look of disgust seem to excite him even more, and he moved unnaturally quickly over to where she stood – pinning her in the corner of the kitchen. His disgusting face was about an inch away from hers, and she shoved him away angrily.

“Get out Lucian, before you do something you’re going to regret.” He voice had only the slightest hint of a tremor to it.

He aggressively grabbed her by the waist, and she got a strong whiff of day old sweat and stale beer. She almost gagged.

“Get off me!” she yelled louder, and shoved him away again. She could see a large cooking pot resting on the side of the counter, and squirmed out of his grasp to grab it, but he just increased the pressure of his grip. Shoving her face close to his, he licked the side of her cheek and grasped at her breasts, painfully.

She started to scream then, wildly, knowing that no one would hear her but it was the only option she had left. Lucian slammed his hand over her mouth, and she bit down, hard. Blood trickled its way into her mouth, but his hand remained where it was, pressing deeper into her skin. His other hand pulled at her flimsy sundress, tearing at the cotton.

His grip was abruptly released, and Eva gasped for air. She turned just in time to see Sebastian punch Lucian in the jaw, his fist making a sickening crack as it connected with heavy bone. Lucian stumbled sideways, and Sebastian uppercut his jaw, sending his body flying back to land on the stone of the kitchen floor. As Sebastian leant down to issue another punch, Eva came to her senses.

“Sebastian – stop!”

His eyes didn’t leave Lucian’s fallen body, but his fist stayed trembling in mid-air before he lowered it slowly to his side. Sebastian was pulsating with rage; Eva could see the muscles of his forearms twitching in anticipation and adrenaline.

After a moment, Lucian stirred on the floor. Sebastian reached over and picked him up by the collar of his shirt.

“Get out of this town. Come here again and I promise I will kill you.” The words were said softly, but neither Lucian nor Eva doubted their truth. Sebastian dropped him back on the ground, and Lucian pitifully scrambled to his feet, not looking at either of them. He scurried out of the room as quickly as he could, but Eva didn’t take a breath till she heard the back porch door swing shut.

Chapter 11

“You’re torn.” Sebastian spoke first.

“What?” Eva looked blankly into his eyes.

“Your dress,” he gestured toward the flimsy cotton that wasn’t currently doing a very good job of protecting her modesty. He hesitated for a moment, before methodically unbuttoning the rest of his half-open shirt.

He was wearing a white t-shirt beneath, and the sight of his bare, muscular arms disorientated Eva so it was moment before she realised he was handing the shirt to her. Gratefully she wrapped it around herself, trying to subtly inhale the scent of him. The softness of the cotton and its aroma of maleness made her dizzy.

“There’s something different about you.” The words were stilting, and Eva regretted them as soon as they left her mouth, but it was true. He always appeared intimidating to her, but now it was tinged with some thing else – something raw, animalistic that she couldn’t put her finger on. His eyes, too, seemed different; their usual darkness seemed more luminous and hyper-alert, as if he were seeing every slight movement that she made.

“I’m just angry.” He crossed his arms, his t-shirt rising upward. He tugged it back down but not before Eva caught a brief glance at his washboard stomach, the defined muscular hips and the tantalising trail of abdominal hair that disappeared into the waistband of his just-visible boxers. She swallowed and looked away.

“Can I get you a cup of tea, or something?” she asked. Sebastian knew he should refuse. He felt like he’d left his self-control at the end of the driveway; the inhuman rage he’d felt on seeing Lucian touch her had snapped something inside of him and all he could see were Eva’s long legs leading up to her impossibly narrow waist and beautifully rounded backside. His shirt had covered her from the thigh upward, but he had seen her cotton white panties and he couldn’t quite clear the image from his head as hard as he tried.

“Coffee would be great, actually.” He thought that might help. Bring his senses back. Remove the bulge pressing against his jeans, at least.

She stepped away, and moved toward the kitchen counter to attend to the percolator. As turned on as Sebastian felt, he also desperately wanted to tell her the truth about the death of her father. He didn’t know if it was to ease his conscience, or that she deserved to know the truth – he hoped it was the latter, but his need for Eva not to hate him utterly made him hesitate and remain silent.

She bought the coffee to him, smiling slightly as she held it toward him. He took the cup from her carefully, avoiding skin contact. Her smile faltered.

“Sebastian?”

“Yes?”

“I’ve had a really bad day – well, actually, a really bad week.” Eva’s face was aflame. Sebastian felt guilt tear through him, but couldn’t help but notice how ethereally beautiful she looked in that moment. Her brown and golden hair tumbling down carelessly over her shoulders, her eyes bright and swimming with unshed emotion.

He watched as Eva with trembling hands begun to remove the shirt he’d given her, and without looking at him she hung it carefully over a chair. She started to unbutton the top of her dress. He grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to stop.

“Eva – don’t do this.”

“Sebastian – please. Just use me, I don’t care – just don’t make me beg. Please don’t make me beg for this.”

Self-hatred and lust coursed through him. He couldn’t hold back any longer, and he finally pulled Eva toward him, crushing her against his chest. He bent his head down towards hers, his gaze meeting her welcoming blue eyes, and placed his lips down forcefully on her mouth. Cradling the back of her head in his hand, their lips melted into one another, her tongue tentatively exploring his mouth.

Eva felt as if her body was about to explode. The moment his lips had touched hers, her whole being had woken up, as if she had spent her entire life sleep walking in a grey existence where every feeling was muted. Now, with Sebastian holding her, wanting her – she didn’t care how – it was if the world had exploded in a kaleidoscope of colour.

The kiss deepened and Eva felt his hand run up the side of her body, grazing her breasts as he did so, causing a shiver of pleasure that ran straight to her lower abdomen. His fingers gently outlined the breastbone at the base of her throat, his palm pressing slightly into her chest. His other hand slid down her back, following the curvature of her spine, coming to rest on her backside. He pressed down and then cupped her lower cheek, caressing it slowly and firmly. Eva heard a groan escape his throat. It was the reassurance she needed to know he was enjoying himself as much as she was, and with that encouragement she slid her hands from around his waist upward to feel the rock-solid muscle of his stomach, up to his chest, tentatively reaching his pectoral muscles. His nipples jumped to attention as she did so, and she felt a shudder run through his body.

He broke the kiss.

“Are you sure you want this?” Sebastian’s voice was raspy and low, his breath hot on her neck.

“Yes, yes I want this. This is all I want, this is everything. Let my world fall away, Sebastian.” Eva looked up into his eyes, trying to convey the assuredness she felt – nothing had ever felt so right to her as this.

“Not here. Take me upstairs,” he replied.

She reluctantly moved her hands off him, and turned to walk upstairs. He followed close behind her and she felt more and more self-conscious each step she took. The bravado that had asked for what she wanted earlier had gone.

When she reached the top step, Sebastian’s hand grabbed the lower part of her thigh, and slowly traced an invisible line up to the top of her underwear. She was embarrassed: it was perfectly apparent how excited she was by the dampness there, but she heard him inhale a sharp breath. His fingers started moving back and forth, gently, on the cotton surface of her panties. Eva thought her legs would give way, as her entire body started to ebb and flow with the oncoming orgasm. She felt her dampness increase, and in response the movement of Sebastian’s fingers became firmer. As she was about to tip over the edge into oblivion, he stopped.

“Bedroom,” Sebastian commanded.

She led him into her room. He turned on the bedside lamp, casting them both in a warm, intimate light.

“Come here Eva.” She hadn’t realised that she’d stepped away from him as soon as they entered the bedroom. Her nervousness was back, yet she came toward him willingly. He stood statue still waiting for her. When she was close enough, Sebastian’s hand reached out and tenderly stroked her cheek.

“You’re beautiful Eva. You’re all I see.” He leant down and kissed her sweetly on the lips. Eva felt apart at his words, hardly believing that he’d uttered them.

Sebastian moved his hands down and finished unbuttoning her dress, pulling it away from her so she stood half-naked in her underwear. His jean-clad erection grazed at her bare stomach, and he roughly moved her bra cups aside causing her breasts to spill out. A guttural moan escaped from the back of his throat and he leant down to gently suck on her already hard nipples. Ecstasy coursed through Eva, and her breath escaped laboured and heavy.

He removed his hands from her and discarded his t-shirt. Eva drank in his raised biceps and his taut six-pack, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. Sebastian unbuttoned his jeans, his heavy erection protruding from his boxers. A second later both articles were removed, and he stood naked in front of Eva.

His body was superior to anything she’d imagined, his thighs like rock, his manhood deliciously large and thick. He began to kiss her again, more ferociously this time, nibbling at her lips, taking the breath from her parted mouth. As the intensity increased, she felt the lower part of her body start clenching and releasing in anticipation as his erection naturally sought out the wetness between her legs.

He picked her up with his right arm and gently lifted her on to the bed. With deliberating slowness he peeled her panties down, and firmly parted her toned thighs.

Sebastian felt his scrotum tighten in anticipation as he gazed on the light, tender skin that framed the silk-like folds of her core. He could see the slick wetness that he had caused earlier inviting him in.

“God, Eva. I want you so much. I need to taste you.” He leant his head forward without waiting for a response and inhaled her sweet scent. He licked lightly between the delicate layers tucked within her, feeling them engorge as he did so, and her nub tighten. His tongue explored her languidly, taking his time, never wanting this moment to end. He felt like he could drink Eva in all day. In that moment his mouth flooded with wetness and her body convulsed around him. She cried out his name as her orgasm overtook her. He smiled to himself – she tasted like honey and milk. She was so exquisitely beautiful. Even more so than in the dreams he’d had of her every day since puberty.

He moved slowly upward, burying his lips in the soft hair at her sex and then upward across her taut stomach – licking the dip of her bellybutton, and continuing till her reached her lush breasts. Her nipples were a rose coloured hue, perfectly offset by her creamy skin. He wanted to memorise every shape, colour and movement of her body. He felt like he had been waiting for this moment all his life, and being present in it was more unbelievable than he could ever have hoped for.

Eva arched her back, feeding him more of her breasts as she gasped in excitement. She moved her hands down his abdomen till she reached his throbbing erection, running her fingers over it, feeling it’s silky-soft harness and the drop of wetness at its tip.

“Eva – wait” Sebastian didn’t want to lose control, and took her hand in his instead, individually kissing each of her fingers.

“I’ve waited for years,” she replied, a soft smile playing on her face. His chest rumbled with laughter.

He didn’t need more encouragement than that. He began to stroke the softness between her legs, lightly teasing her nub with his thumb. She pushed her body further into his fingers, urging him on.

Slowly he rolled on top of her and entered her, sharply inhaling his breath as he felt his way through her tightness, glorying in her wetness. Every movement they made together sent sharp, intense bursts of light flooding through his body. Making his way inside her, inch by inch, he heard her cry out in pleasure and felt the tightening of her thighs around his hips, bringing him closer.

Her hands clasped at his buttocks, and she revelled at the tight muscle there, clawing at them, driving him crazy. As their rhythm increased, Sebastian felt a familiar tug in the pit of his stomach. Shit, he thought. He cursed himself for not considering this earlier. Whilst part of his mind tried to fight through the haze of pleasure and calm his body back down, it felt like the wolf instinct had already taken over. Both beast and Eva were in charge of his body now, and he was barely able to stop the throbbing sensations coursing and building through him.

Eva could feel her climax building rapidly, and she moaned in pleasure. She loved the way their bodies fit together so perfectly, his largeness filling her up, making her feel complete.

She noticed the change in his eyes, their brightness she’d seen earlier intensifying. As she stared at him, his eyes seemed to glow an inhuman color. He knew he had to hold on just a little longer. Eva’s body was responding with pure excitement, her core welcoming his girth and more wetness flowing through her. She clutched at his strong, muscular back and drove him more furiously into her, panting as she came for him again and again, screaming out his name.

He looked into her eyes and saw an outpouring of love, and in that moment his body tipped over the edge. He felt his entire being thunderously crash through with white-hot pleasure as his seed pulsed into her. He had never felt anything more intense and altering than this moment. He felt intrinsically connected to Eva, as if their bodies and souls had fused together as one, and that his passion might burn them both out of existence.

He held onto that perfect moment for a heartbeat, and then it fell away.

He rolled off the bed in pain as his body started an uncontrolled change, the dark hair on his abdomen growing thicker, the hair on his head growing longer.

“Eva – I’m so sorry - ” the words were a gasp, as he fully transformed before her eyes. Eva knew she should be horrified, but she wasn’t.

Sebastian was vaguely aware of his claws shredding the mattress and bedspread beneath them, as he hopped up and collapsed down beside her, afraid to touch her until he felt himself return to human form.  As soon as he did, she leaned over and kissed him leisurely on the mouth. Sebastian turned to cradle her in his arms as if she were the most precious creature on earth.

“The stories…they’re true, aren’t they?” She said, after a moment.

“Yeah, they’re true.”

He looked down at her, and saw a blissful calm spread over her face as she looked into his eyes. She smiled at him, “I always thought they might be.”

Chapter 12

“Eva – I have to tell you something” his tone was harsher, the curtness returning. He sat up, gently folding her away from him.

Eva had her dreamy state rudely interrupted by panic and a bleak sense of impending pain, “What is it?” she asked.

“It’s about how I got like this. About your father.” He hesitated before continuing.

Eva had brought the covers up around her naked form, and he suddenly wanted to howl at the sight of her defensive and distanced from him. But he couldn’t not tell her now. Not now that she felt part of his very soul.

“Your father was like me, like this. He was pack leader and had wanted to turn me since I was young. He decided that he would do it the night my father and I went to the White Mountains. I didn’t know – I’m so sorry, Eva. It was an accident. He attacked me in wolf form - I didn’t know it was him.”

Eva stared at him blankly. She felt ice-cold shock creep through her veins. This can’t be happening, this can’t be true. He whole world felt like it was splintering and cracking. I love you. Please don’t let this be true.

“It was an accident Eva – I’m more sorry than you’ll ever know.” He met her gaze, and almost welcomed the pain that it caused him to do so.

“Eva, I’m in love with you. I’ve can’t remember a time when I didn’t love you. My world only wakes up when you’re in it. When you went away to study I was so happy – I didn’t want you to end up in this town, but every time you returned it was like the sun came out, you’re everything to me Eva.”

She looked at him, uncomprehending. She didn’t understand how he could have felt this way all these years and never said or done anything. Only now, after killing her father, did he come to her. Why?

“Sebastian…I…I need some time. I think.” Her words sounded cold to her own ears.

She saw the shutters come down across his face, the cold and dispassionate look replace the openness and warmth from only moments before, but she couldn’t find a way to soothe him.

Sebastian picked up his jeans and threw them on hastily, ignoring the rest of his things and walked out of the bedroom door without looking back.

She started to scream in her head for him to return, not to leave her, but the words wouldn’t form in her mouth.

Chapter 13

She had stayed up late, immobile on her bed, crying and regretting asking Sebastian to leave. She must have slept at some point, as dawn was breaking through the curtains when she awoke.

When she pulled opened her window the air smelled sweet, the thunderstorm of the night before had drenched the dry land leaving it dewy and fragrant.

She staggered slowly downstairs in search of coffee, trying to shake off the chasm of disappointment that she felt. In the morning light, last night seemed like a far away dream; in some parts tragically horrible, yet with moments that each reached a pinnacle of bliss that she’d never known would be possible. It was her recollection of those moments that made this morning’s dawn truly feel like the start of something new, as if her world had altered drastically in the night, and would never go back again.

She needed to find Sebastian. She was devastated by her father’s death, and Sebastian’s role in it, but she acknowledged it was an accident. She had been told the stories of the Tanana tribes as a child, and ironically, back then she imagined that her father was one of the brave shape shifting wolves.

She had looked for magic everywhere when she was little, believed there were fairies in the garden, flitting about from flower to flower, she thought all of nature’s creatures were mystical. Now as an adult realizing that her childhood fantasies were real, she didn’t want to turn her back on them. She knew that she could get on a plane back to New York, apologise to Jimmy and live the life that lay waiting for her. But Leslie-Anne’s word’s echoed in her head – she would die on the inside.

On that thought, a sense of urgency grew within her, half afraid that Sebastian had already slipped away, gone while the scent of him still enveloped her body. She gulped her coffee down and rushed upstairs to shower and dress. She didn’t know where to start looking, but Logan seemed like the logical first port of call.

She flung on jeans and a t-shirt, leaving her hair damp. Rushing back downstairs, her heart started thumping wildly in her chest, excitement and anxiety building. Busting through the front door she blinked in the bright sun, and then came to a standstill. There was a wolf waiting for her in the front garden.

The hair she had thought last night was jet black, was a rich dark brown in the sunlight. She recognized his eyes, the same luminous white and blue that she had seen last night. He had been sitting, but now moved up onto all fours as she approached.

“Sebastian?”

Eva. His voice echoed through her head, as clearly as if he were speaking out loud. It was soft and caressing, with the faintest sound of a throaty purr beneath it.

As she stood and stared at him, she got the feeling that he had waited here all night for her, and the realisation made her heart felt like it was being torn in two.

“Sebastian – I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have sent you away.”

Don’t apologise. I’m who should be sorry. Forgive me Eva.

“It was an accident. I’m ashamed at how my father behaved – it shouldn’t have happened that way.” She tentatively edged closer; his wolf form alienated and excited her at the same time. She longed to reach and stroke his thick fur.

It doesn’t matter anymore. Eva, you need to leave here – go and live your life. You can do anything you want to.

“Why does everyone insist on sending me away? Sebastian, I want to be here. With you. What you said last night…I feel the same way. I want to be with you, I feel like we’ve wasted years – and I want to start living my life.”

With a wolf? In this place? I can’t offer you anything, Eva. Sebastian was determined not to give in this time.

If a small slice of heaven was all he would experience in this lifetime, then that would be enough. It was best this way. He knew he had already bonded with her, that she was his crow mate, but that didn’t mean that he had license to ruin her life. He would set her free, let her fly.

“Yes with a wolf – with you. I like Beaver Creek, Sebastian. But I’m in love with you. So in love with you that there’s only one place that I ever want to be, and that’s wherever you are.  Why do you think I keep coming back?” Her tone was passionate, but he could hear the pain that she was trying to cover, and he didn’t know if that pain was caused by feeling like she had to leave her old life behind, or if it came from fear that she couldn’t have this one.

“Sebastian” she continued, “I’m going to be a Harvard business school graduate, and you’re going to own a lumber business – we can transform this town, you don’t have to worry about my life – this is the one I want.” She hesitated then, as if she had run out of steam. “Unless you don’t…want that? Want me?”

Sebastian lost any resolve he had been clinging to at her question. His frustration dissipated – if she wanted him, really wanted this, then there was nothing that would stop him taking her and spending the rest of his life making her smile the way she did last night.

Eva, I want you. More than you could ever imagine.

At that, she walked toward him slowly and then bent down gracefully in the soft grass to kneel in front of him. She started to stroke his fur, sending tremors throughout his body.

“I want you too – like this, wolf form or human form. I’ll take you anyway you come Sebastian Waverly.”

She guided him down with her into the grass, and buried her hands into his fur, curling up to him so that there wasn’t a sliver of space between them. He shifted back into his human form, his body wrapped protectively around hers, keeping out the morning chill.

Slowly their bodies and heartbeats moved as one, and Eva and Sebastian spent the morning with the sun reflecting off of their sweat-glistened bodies as they basked in their newly expressed love.

The wolf and his crow.

THE END

DRAGON’S CLAIM

STORY DESCRIPTION

Zedekiah has inhabited his mountain for centuries. Long before the miner 49ers came to town.

Now, brokering out sections to miners, he aims to blend with the townsfolk. Only, Zed harbors a dark secret. Revealed in rumors around town, whispers of the “monster of the mountain”, tales of screeching cries heard in the night.

Paulette’s husband died on their journey west, just shy of reaching their destination. Paulette is left in a strange mining town with an infant and dwindling finances.

For Paulette and Zed, a marriage of convenience is a perfect answer. A business transaction.

Only, hearts have a way of following their own path.

Can a young, widowed mother find love with a dragon intent on guarding the gold running through his mountain during the California gold rush of 1849?

Chapter One

Zed paced the length of the cavern, stone walls arching up around him, cool and damp.

He knew it was well past time to go, that he would need to make his way out of the mines and back to town. But it was hard to leave the hoard he’d spent centuries protecting, monitoring, adding to. It was his, and his alone.

And now this — the gold rush. People from all over the country — the world —  arriving to pillage his mountains until they found their wealth and there was nothing left. It didn’t matter who they were taking it from. The Earth. A dragon. A man. It was all the same to them — as long as they walked out with what they’d come for.

He took one more spin through the cave, pausing at the juncture that led back toward his prized possessions. He itched to go back. To watch them. Touch them. They were what got him through the day. Reminded him why he put up with the headaches of his brokering business.

Zed had spent a lifetime protecting his treasures. When he wasn’t in the cave, he was at the office, leasing out other parts of his mountain, demanding a percentage of whatever the miners came home with, knowing he was earning back the smallest amount of what was already his while directing miners to places that held little of what the mountain had to offer. He supposed he should feel bad for requiring them to pay a monthly fee to use his property, knowing all the while that they would find little in their allotment.

He supposed he should have — but he didn’t. After all, they weren’t looking to share the wealth either. Everyone was out for themselves. And, as Zed saw it, he was the only one actually losing in the deal.

He had only memories of the hours, weeks, months, years he’d spent uninterrupted, at peace. Mornings and nights seeping into one another. But now he was reduced to this — a man denied his other form. His animal within struggled to be free, to clamber to the surface, to take control and reduce the man Zed to nothing more than a vague memory.

Zed fought for tenuous control over the urge. His hoard, everything he cared about depended on his ability to keep his dragon suppressed. As it was, the people spoke of the “monster in the mines”. Zed had overheard their whispers about what they had heard, what they had seen silhouetted against the sky. Awe. Fear. Those were the moments he’d lost control and couldn’t keep the dragon at bay. He knew it was only a matter of time before his luck ran out, before his dragon would take control and he would never have the chance to turn back into a human.

But sometimes, even that seemed preferable to living like this. Caught between two worlds.

He emerged from the cave, the roses and golds of early dusk created a dramatic backdrop for the mountain side and the little town at its feet. The scent of pine was heavy and crisp. Zed was contemplating his fate when he came to the fork in the path that signaled he would soon be at base of the mountain path, and in just a short time, the edge of town.

He heard the rustle before he saw them, not with his ears, but with every fiber of his being, a sense of ambush scurrying along his spine, dancing over his skin. Inciting his flight or fight response.

But it was too late. They were on him before he could spin aound, before he could let his beast fly forth, his wings whipping into the night, his teeth on display, his flames ready to boil.

And all it took was that first good hit, to send Zed to the ground, the fight slipping out of him before he’d even had the chance to harness it.

In this body, he was only a man, and it was bound to be his downfall.

Paulette brought the infant up toward her, inspecting her still sweet-smelling milky pale skin for any signs of illness.

She couldn’t stop checking. It was almost compulsive. Even though she knew the babe was healthy. Beyond healthy. Perfect.

But she was all Paulette had left, and she wasn’t willing to lose her over something that could be prevented. Paulette was counting every penny, worried she would run out. Worried she would need something for Abigail she wouldn't be able to afford.

The fear was a legitimate one. She'd watched others succumb to mere fevers, to infections that would have been easily overcome if they'd had the money for the treatments, for fresh food, the ability to rest and heal. The trip to California had been long, hard, and sorrow-filled.

Paulette pulled Abigail closer to her, tucking her securely into the curve of her arm, drawing the blanket around her more tightly, unable to get over the small heft of her, how solid she felt in her arms.

Things were going to have to change. With Robert gone there just were no other options. Here, she’d come all this way with him, striking it rich in the gold rush the one thing he seemed able to focus on. They’d left Boston in early spring. They’d spent another early spring en route. Abigail had joined them.

They had been happy, all things considered, for people traipsing across the country, ill-equipped and with bad luck. And they had been so close to that next big step in achieving all their dreams and goals. Paulette could almost see the beautiful home they would have had, taste the sweet meats and freshly grown vegetables they would have endless access to.

And then, in the cruelest of Fate’s tricks, with only a few weeks left in the trip, Robert had been crushed by one of the wagons in the small train as he and the other men struggled to repair it.

And just like that everything was gone. Taken. Taken from her. And from Abigail. They had put everything they’d had into that journey. It had lasted longer than they’d thought it would. It had cost more than they had thought it would. They hadn’t factored in Abigail. There was nothing left, and Paulette and Abigail were alone on the West Coast, thousands of miles away from any family or help. There was no way to go backward. There was only forward, and she wasn’t sure how to go about moving in that direction.

Paulette worried on her lower lip. She’d been doing it a lot lately. There were so many things to worry about, and working her teeth against her lip made it easier to forget that she had forgone the last two meals because she’d needed to buy milk for Abigail.

She was running out of things to trade. If she wasn’t careful, the only thing she’d have left to barter was her body.

She stared down into her sweet baby’s face. Abigail’s eyes were closed, her lashes little smudges of light brown wisps against the cream and peach of her face, her mouth working in her sleep, the littlest burst of a contented sigh escaping her as she burrowed one fist more tightly into her cheek.

It couldn’t come to that. She knew prostitution only led to one place — illness and death. And without ever making it out of poverty, no doubt. She wouldn’t leave Abigail to that fate. With no one to raise her she would end up the same way, and that simply wasn’t an option. Paulette wouldn’t have it.

But then, what were the options? She could look for work as a scullery maid or a house keeper, but Abigail would complicate things there as well. She had failed as a producer, so wet nursing was equally improbable. To darn or wash she would need to be settled in a place where she could bring in work. And this wasn’t a place filled with people looking for that kind of work.

Of course, prostitutes were in fairly high demand here, miners on their own in their little caves most of the nights. Lonely. Frustrated.

Yes, the prostitutes were quite popular here.

She went back to chewing on her lip.

She was running out of time. Time and options. If she waited much longer, there would be nothing left. There would be no choices for her at all.

The wagon train had fractured from her, thrilled with their good fortune at having finally made it to their destination. They muted their joy when they were near her, conscientious of the fact that there was little joy to be had for her here, but nonetheless, they spilled from the group and off into their lives, little waves and that annoying jaunt to their step Paulette had tried to ignore.

And Paulette was left behind, the little town barely a street wide or long, offering little to her.

Chapter Two

When Zed awoke he was alone, the dull throb across the back of his shoulders and head reminded him that he had been hit with something very hard. With a groan, he pulled himself up, taking a moment to regain his feet and let the world settle into an uncomfortable equilibrium. He was angered by the attack, frustrated by how easily overcome he had been. Shame and disgust flared inside of him.

He raised a hand gingerly to the back of his head, exploring the tender flesh there, looking for more than just a knot. But his fingers came back bloodless, and he was thankful the men hadn’t been more successful with their attack. It was bad enough to have been a victim – he didn't want to imagine what it would feel like to have been significantly wounded in the process.

He scowled into the blackness, unsure how much time had passed since he’d been intercepted, unsure why they had attacked him just to leave him where he lay.

He’d seen just one face, out of the corner of his eye, before that block of wood had connected with the back of his head. The miner with the full beard streaked with blonde and white.

The man tickled something at the back of Zed's mind, like he recalled a time a similar man had put him on edge, had eyed him suspiciously. He had overheard him telling the others that Zed was a cheat who kept the best of the mountain to himself. He couldn't remember the miner’s name or where to find him, but he was certain those impressions all stemmed from the same man, and he wouldn't have been surprised to learn a man like that was behind such an attack.

Zed wasn't a cheat, despite what that man said, despite the grumbling he had heard from others. Everything he did was by the book, designed to give the miners what they paid for. Though, it was true, he supposed, that he kept the best of the mountain to himself. The mountain was, after all, his. Had always been his. The gold had always been his. Always. And here he had so generously let them have some of it. For a fee. But, even so. It wasn’t theirs to have.

Every step jarred his skull in a way that made him think he wasn’t going to make it out of the office in the morning. But he wouldn’t know how bad it was until he made it inside and could examine himself in the light. See if anything was missing.

But this night he had had nothing on him to take. His key slid into the lock, popping open the mechanism and flung the door open, not caring when the heavy pine bounced back off the wall, clattering loudly in the relative quiet of the early morning. Not caring, until a painful throbbing immediately set in the back of his skull.

His watch was gone, he realized when he went to pull it from his pocket and check the time. They hadn’t gone away empty-handed after all. Bastards. Zed knew not every miner was a problem, but those certainly were. He would ferret them out – he had to if he wanted to be able to remain in relative safety, if he wanted to be able to maintain the delicate facade he had made for himself.

It hadn’t been the first time he’d been singled out by men, and Zed was pretty sure it wouldn’t be the last. That miner had an evil edge to him, an extra mean glint in his eyes — he wasn’t going to stop until he was stopped.  Zed had enough experience with humans to know that was the case.

But stopping him was something Zed was willing to do. The time would come, he had no doubt, where it would be just him and that miner… and Zed hadn’t lost yet.

The morning came early, and as Zed had expected, he wasn’t fit to start his day when he normally did.

He slept little. Most of his kind were the same. They could certainly hibernate, but mostly nights were short. Rests were brief. Their recharge was intense.

He lingered on the small sofa, his head still throbbing, every movement a fresh reminder that he hadn’t been on top of his game the night before. That was what happened when you allowed yourself to live closely to the humans.

Anger welled within him. He did not like to be made a fool of, and being assaulted on the mountain, giving no resistance, achieving no damage, falling to the ground like a felled tree, certainly counted as being made a fool.

That man’s face was etched in his mind. He would know him the next time he saw him. There would be no mistaking him in the future, and there would be hell to pay then. That miner would live to feel Zed’s wrath.

And would live not much beyond that.

It was obvious that Zed’s current system wasn’t working. He couldn’t keep traipsing back and forth between the office and the mountainside He needed a better way to keep tabs on his hoard while still managing the office. What he really needed was a person to work the office while he kept his days and nights up on the mountainside.

Yes, as the morning sun began to bleed into the muted light of afternoon, he was determined he would hire someone to sit behind the desk, to field the needs back at the office, and he would be able to go on almost as he had before this had all started — when it had just been him and his hoard, and that beautiful mountainside, untainted by the humans and their own special brand of greed.

There was no choice, she reminded herself again, the word becoming ugly and monstrous in her head. She had never had any choice — why should this be any different.

She paused in front of the little building with the embossed Broker sign hanging above the door.

If anyone could point her in the right direction for a boarding house or work, it would be the town broker. She took one more deep breath of resolution, held Abigail close to her heart, and swung the door open.

Zed was making his way through a stack of papers he had absolutely no interest in dealing with when she stepped through the door. Her hair was swept back under one of those oversized bonnets the women seemed to feel were in fashion, but he could see pale strands of hair peeking out from beneath.

“Hello,” she said, taking a moment to look around the room.

He nodded, his expression tight. “Good afternoon.” He paused in his paper shuffling, suddenly feeling awkward and unprepared.

He dealt mostly with men. Mostly with men who had a very clear agenda, and wasted no time or politeness when coming to him. Their interactions were strictly centered on business. There was no need for pleasantries. Straightforward. Easy. There was no decoding, no second-guessing.

This woman was different. She seemed to hesitate just inside the door, to waffle between one thing and another, though Zed had yet to figure out what those things she was torn between might be.

She was studying the floor when she said, “I was wondering if you might know anyone who’s employing? Or a boarding house in the area?” She took a deep breath, seemed to hold it, like she needed to know the answer and wasn't sure she could handle the response.

He gave her a hard look. Her faded skirt. Her worn boots.

She was just what he needed.

“Well,” he said, setting down the stack of papers and propping his hands on the desk, leaning forward toward her. “It just so happens I need someone in this office here, during business hours so I can maintain the mine sites up the mountain.

She seemed to perk up, like a freshly watered plant, color easing back through her and she took another step toward him. For the first time, he noticed the infant she held cradled to her chest. “Do you read? Write?” he asked, gesturing to one of the simple chairs for her to sit. “Not necessary, but it may be beneficial.”

She took the seat, and Zed had the distinct impression she needed rest more than she should have. She nodded. “I know my letters.”

“Wonderful,” he said. How fortuitous that she should show up in his office looking for work directly after he’d decided such a position was the solution to his problems. He brought a hand to the back of his head, where it still throbbed from the attack. “When would you like to start?”

“Well, immediately would be good. I mean,” she corrected, “I have no other obligations, so am available to start as soon as you are ready to have me start.” She was playing with the hem of her sleeve, betraying her anxiety. It didn’t escape his notice.

“Immediately is what I need. Now, you mentioned needing a boarding space? For you and the baby only?” Zed wasn’t sure why it mattered, but somehow, he realized, it did.

He had been thinking about the little two bedroom he maintained in the town. The perfect size for the woman and the child. He could already picture them there, making that house their home.

She nodded. “Just the two of us.”

Her eyes had become dark, somber, and Zed was sure there was more to her story she wasn’t ready to share.

“I have just the place.” He remembered he was supposed to smile, that it was considered customary and polite, so he made the effort. “If you’re free, we can take a walk down there now and you can see if it will suit your needs.” He wanted her to say yes. The more time he spent with her, the more time he was sure he needed to spend with her.

He moved, stepping out from behind the desk and toward the door, swinging it wide. The woman was right behind him, the baby still sleeping against her bosom, close enough now that her sweet, fresh scent drifted toward him. He felt a new tingle at the back of his neck, one unrelated to the dull ache that seemed to have taken up permanent residence there. One he couldn’t place.

“Zedekiah Martín,” he said, realizing belatedly that he had yet to introduce himself to her, and that he had no idea of her name either.

“Paulette Johnson,” she said in return, allowing him to take her hand for a brief moment. “And this is Abigail.” She tipped the baby toward him, so he had a clear shot of her sleeping face.

He tore his eyes away from the child. “So nice to meet you both. I can’t say what great timing you have to come by today. I was just thinking how much I needed someone to help me out around here; the commute was becoming too much.”

The commute was many things — tedious, annoying, dangerous, apparently — but Zed had never considered it ‘too much’ in the past. What he needed was a way to spend more hours in the mine. More hours with his hoard. Less hours here, dealing with the minutia his business as a broker demanded. Less hours pretending to be what society expected him to be. But this way, perhaps he could scale his visits back to town to once or twice a week. If he could find a way to convince the townspeople he was just like they were even though he spent little time in the town, he could conceivably come back even less.

Things were falling into place.

She followed him down the street and toward the little house. He maintained it because it was what people expected from someone like him. A person who expected to work in the community, to be received by the community, had to live in the community as well. As it was, he had a hard time being accepted by the others. He needed all the help he could get. Though, in truth, when he was in town he spent his nights in the office, prowling, waiting for the moments he could be back in his true home. He was never at ease, always looking toward the mountain and the open sky.

The door unlocked easily, like it had been just waiting for someone just like Paulette. He pushed it wide, ushering Paulette and Abigail into the little house in front of him.

It was neat and clean, with few furnishings, and looked decidedly unlived in, but even so, it was more than Paulette could have imagined having just a few hours earlier. She had gone from having nothing but her name and her child, to having a job and a place to live, and she was beyond grateful for that.

“This will be perfect,” she said, turning toward Zed, her eyes bright with something like relief and excitement.

Zed nodded. He was captivated by them, their very color, like the color of the ocean where it met the sky, at once bright and bottomless. “Very well,” he said, clearing his throat and trying to convince himself that she was just a woman. Just a human, like any other. There was nothing special about her. “We’ll work it into your compensation. I’ll draw some papers up and get you settled in the office and then I’ll be on my way.” He was already moving toward the door. Even when feet separated them, when they were too far from one another for him to actually see her eyes, he could remember them, their shape, that color, the emotion in them.

Burned in his mind.

He couldn’t wait to get out of there. The room seemed much too small, like there wasn’t enough space for the three of them there.

But at the same time, he realized he was dragging his feet. They should have already left the house. There was nothing left to see. He should have pointed her down the street to the woman he knew spent her days watching other people’s children. But instead he was standing there in the small room, watching Paulette as she walked around its perimeter, poking her head through the doorways and into the other rooms, running her hands along the wood walls, the back of the chairs.

She was compelling, in her way. Every move she made was swift and delicate, tentative and sure at once. He knew with certainty he could spend all day watching her.

He gave his head a shake. Women were not something he spent his time thinking about. He had no use for them, and they certainly had no use for him. This woman would be no different, he assured himself. Whatever was happening to him when she was close could be controlled.

“Are you ready?” he asked, and his voice was hard and strained, and even to his own ears sounded angrier and more aggressive than he had intended.

But if she was put off by his words or tone she did nothing to suggest so, just turned toward him, her smile radiant, and said. “Yes, quite ready,” before crossing the room toward him.

Chapter Three

He wasn’t sure when or how it had happened, exactly, but somewhere between leaving the house and arriving at the office, Zed had gone from feeling that having this woman as a tenant and employee was the best plan of action, to thinking that what he really needed was a woman who could be portrayed as his wife.

Yes, that was what he really needed. An employee, a tenant — those things were nice. They would help his cause, certainly. But the best case scenario would be if he had a wife. Not just a wife— Paulette.

In name only, of course. He wasn’t looking for anything other than a woman the world would perceive as his mate. Another little checkmark they could place next to his name. Just your every day, average broker who happened to be a little eccentric and spent the bulk of his time meandering through the mines. An instant family.

Now, he wasn’t as good at the whole human thing as he probably should have been. He’d spent many years away, and to be honest he hadn’t missed humanity much while he was gone. Even with him limited experience, he didn’t expect Paulette would jump at his offer.

He was still mulling over the best way to approach the topic when he shut the door behind him, closing the two of them off from the rest of the world; the perfect time for the conversation he knew he had to have.

“So, Paulette,” he said, trying to source every ounce of gentility, every bit of finesse he had. He just hoped he had enough in him to pull off the proposal. “Tell me about how you came to be here.”

Her shoes. Her dress. Her hair. Even her name marked her as East Coast. Zed didn’t have a lot of experience over there — in fact he predated the existence of the area and had never been — but he saw many of those New Englanders slip through the town, soulless after their journey, weighted by the seen and unseen, burdened by what was in front of them as well as what they had left behind.

“I came with my husband.” Her voice was hollow, and she didn’t offer any more information regarding him.

Zed bristled at the mention of a husband, though he should have hardly been surprised, with the young in hand. It did make the most sense.

And yet, she had not mentioned a husband previously. She had said there would only be the two of them — Paulette and Abigail.

“What has become of him — this husband?” Zed asked, convinced he needed to know the answer before he broached the next part of the conversation.

“He was killed on the journey here. But we were too far from home for me to return with Abigail.” She seemed to look through him, past him, into yesterday. “If only we’d been closer to home when it had happened. I could have returned to my mother and father. They would have taken me. A respectable widow.” She shook her head, as though she were dispelling the memory, and then seemed to pull herself back together, pushing the past away from her and returning to the present.

There was a long pause as he ran her words over in his mind. Even with his limited recognition of social nuances, he was able to pick up on how she had not said she’d wished it hadn’t happened at all — only that she’d wished her current position could have been different. That she could have been back home with her family.

He nodded, but couldn’t follow her sentiment up with much more than that. He knew he had nothing helpful to offer there.

He clasped his hands behind his back, pacing from one end of the room to the other. The baby began to fuss in Paulette’s arms, and Zed wasn’t sure if it was his pacing or something else that had set the baby on edge.

“Paulette,” he said, pausing in front of the door to look her squarely in the face. “There is something I am in even more need of than a tenant, than an employee.”

Her head tipped to the side in question, and he tried not to study the long, graceful curve of her neck. He drew a hand quickly across his mouth, eager to erase the sudden need he felt to expose his teeth at the wave of desire. “I need a wife.” He was surprised at the growl beneath his words, the sudden urgency, the feeling that accompanied the action of saying those words aloud.

He had never felt he needed a wife. In all his years on earth, awake and asleep, human and non, he had felt many things for women, but never once that he should want one as a wife. A mate.

“Now,” he hurried on. “I would not expect…such wifely duties from you.” He waved his hand toward Abigail, finally soothed, her body pressed into Paulette’s. “But, it would be a great service to me if you would appear as though you were a wife to me, to those inside and outside this town. Of course,” he rushed to assure her, “I will maintain you as though you were my wife in every manner. As though your child were my child. You will be provided with food and clothes, and of course, the small house we just came from. I will not reside there with you. When I am in town, I will probably stay here, in the office. But mostly, I will stay in the mountains. It is where I feel the most peace and where I am the most needed.

“In addition, I will pay you a salary, just as though you were strictly my employee, and I will put no stipulations on what you can and cannot do with that money — and whatever you find you need, you shall ask me for and I will provide it.”

He waited for her rejection, already sifting through what other things he could possibly offer to her in that case. Now that the idea had come to him, he had latched completely onto it, confident there could be no better way — no other way — than this one.

She seemed to consider his words a long moment, her teeth pressing down on her lower lip while she thought. “I believe we can make that work,” she said finally. “If you will agree to care for my child as though she were your own, and that she should lack for nothing, even should something happen to me.”

He eyed her more carefully, appreciative of her shrewdness. An insurance policy. That’s what she was looking for in him.

Her easy acceptance pleased him, and he was more than happy to agree to those terms. He reached out his hand toward her, and she did the same, not hesitating, certain this is what she wanted for her daughter.

Their hands met, and there it was again, that little jolt of energy passing between them, igniting something deep within Zed he couldn’t name, didn’t know.

“I will draw up those papers, then.”

If his voice sounded more gruff than it should have, a little mean, she certainly showed no fear of it.

He wanted her the more for it.

Chapter Four

Paulette was on his mind.

Constantly on his mind.

Had he realized how much things would change when he offered her the role as his wife, he might have considered it a little more carefully, weighed the pros and cons a little more heavily.

That was what he told himself. But the truth was, he never once believed he would have been happier the way things had been before she’d stepped through his door.

He spent his hours in the caves, sleepless. Moving through the rooms and corridors, his hands running around the precious things he’d kept safe and hidden for generations in the depths of the mountain.

When she occupied too much of his thought, when the sudden need to see her behind the desk — Abigail safely tucked away in the Moses basket near her feet, or down the street in the arms of the local caregiver —Zed let himself leave the cave, picking his way down the mountainside and back toward the little street his office sat on, the warm glow from within more welcoming than it ever had been before.

With a little growl of frustration and impatience ripping from his throat, he set off out of the cave and down the narrow path. Now was such a time. He wanted to see her, hair swept back, the high collar of her dress hiding the pale, sensitive skin of her neck, her hands delicate and gentle.

The path was treacherous, and Zed knew that was why the men had ambushed him down below, where it was easier going, where there was less ledge and more even ground. A coward’s way.

He may have been a creature of habit, but he had taken to altering that last leg of his journey, no longer following the path worn from use, but trail blazing, following the little trails that may have been created by deer or fox, or even something smaller. Some were overgrown and out of use, others still carried the fresh scent of animal.

He picked his way down the path easily, in a way no mere human ever could, and when he emerged from the mass of hillside and rock and dirt through an opening that could barely be called such, it was well past the first shade of evening.

Paulette would be home, he thought, studying the stars as they began to appear in the sky. The office would be closed for the night, and she would be moving through the small house, putting Abigail to bed for the evening, a bucket of wash near the fire, ready to be set out and to dry overnight.

His pace quickened. Anticipation, he thought, though he couldn’t pinpoint what it was he was anticipating. He only knew he wanted to get to the house as quickly as possible.

Zed knocked, quietly, in case Abigail had already settled into sleep, and waited to be admitted. He had meant what he’d said when he told her he wouldn’t stay the night in her house, and he respected the fact that the space was hers. He was the perpetual visitor.

She pulled the door open, Abigail still in arms.

“Evening,” she said, and her voice was soft, like maybe she thought any moment now would be the one that Abigail would let her eyes drift closed, slipping into the sleep that would free Paulette from the child’s needs for a few hours.

It was just as he had hoped it would be, thought it would be. In the safety of the house, Paulette had forgone the bonnet, her hair loosely pulled back, locks of blonde hair slipping down from the knot, framing her pretty face. The light from the lit lanterns was yellow and warm, the whole space suddenly filled with that lived-in, comfortable feeling that had been missing from the house before Paulette’s arrival.

He nodded, because he didn’t trust himself to speak, wasn’t sure what to say, didn’t want to lull the baby out of the space between awake and asleep.

It was seeping into him, the ease that came from being near her. The contentment he previously only felt when he was with his hoard, the pieces sliding between his fingers, the sharp smell of metal in the air.

Paulette had moved away from him, toward the bassinet, her head tipped toward the baby, so he could admire the curve of her spine, the way her waist narrowed before the skirt draped in a gentle fall past her hips and down to her feet.

With the fire in front of her, she was surrounded by that glow, her brightness dulled by the intensity of the flames’ light, and she was at one blinding and subdued.

He felt another lurch, a tightening in his loins.

Zed put all the pieces together for the first time. The longing. The anticipation.

Desire.

He didn’t want her to be the woman the world saw as his bride.

He wanted her to be the woman he kept close to him, in his arms, against his body.

He heard himself growl, but Paulette was far enough away she didn’t seem to hear the sound.

Zed made a fist, like he could as easily squelch the want that had reared its head within him. Human women were forbidden to him, and there were few of his kind left. He stretched his shoulders, rotating them back the way he did when he was thinking of his other self, the one he barred from existence when he was in his human shell.

Being a dragon had its benefits.

And it had its drawbacks, and whether he liked it or not, one of those drawbacks was that he was destined to live a life alone, mating only with others like himself during the rare breeding season, and only to reproduce.

There was no reason for him to feel the longing he did for Paulette. She could never be his.

Never.

And then she was bending to lie the baby gently on her bed, turning toward him and stepping forward, an easy, open smile on her face.

“Have you eaten?” she asked, her body moving easily, uninhibited by Zed’s sudden realization, his understanding of the hunger he was feeling.

He shook his head, knowing he should leave, before that need to have her overwhelmed him, before he did something that would endanger them both.

There were a hundred reasons he should leave.

But there was one reason to stay, and it called to him more strongly than all the other reasons in the world.

Paulette was watching him expectantly, waiting for his response. There was still some leftover stew, and she was happy to put a bowl together for him if he was interested.

He stopped by the house in the evenings often enough that she’d started to make a little extra, just in case he came by. And true to his word, he never stayed in the house or made her feel uncomfortable. He just stopped to share the air with them, sit with her at the table, eat the food she’d prepared. And then he was gone. She would slide the bolt in place after he left, watch him fade into blackness as he disappeared back to the mountain.

He had yet to say anything, but she’d also come to expect few words from him. At first, she had thought maybe she was doing something to put him off, that perhaps there was something about talking with her that made him uncomfortable. But, it soon became clear that it was just his way. He had little need for words. When he finally nodded, she pulled the lid off the cast iron pot, the scent of the meat, potatoes, and carrots filling the air, making Paulette think she could use another serving herself.

Funny, but she was beginning to think that ache in her center was something other than hunger for food. She recognized it vaguely, like something she should have been feeling previously, like it was something she had been missing out on.

And she was fairly sure it had everything to do with Zed. The way his dark hair fell carelessly away from his face, the sharp angle of his cheekbones, the hard line of his jaw. When he came this late in the day, the shadow of an even darker beard on his rich honey colored skin. It was almost breathtaking, the picture he made, strong and regal.

His eyes were dark, hooded, and hard to read. She found herself looking into them more than she probably should, but there was something about them that invited her to melt into their depths, to keep searching for something she hadn’t yet found. There was something otherworldly to them, that she couldn’t name or place, that tugged at the edge of her memory.

She’d agreed to this sham of a marriage with barely a moment’s hesitation. Of course she had. He was offering her everything she could hope to have. A roof over her head, money in her pocket, a promise that her baby would be well cared for — if not loved — in any event of her absence.

She wasn’t sure when it had happened; it had snuck up on her entirely — when she had started to appreciate him for things other than that. For the heat that started in her core and worked its way through her when he was near, for the way she saw him watch the baby with curiosity and respect.

When he would come in with fresh produce, or a newly wrapped package from the butcher, a blanket he’d brought home for Abigail or a new pair of stockings for Paulette.

He had become so much more than the arrangement she’d first made with him. And now she just had to figure out what that meant. And whether or not it was the same for him as well.

She filled a clay fired bowl with the stew, steam still rising from it, and placed it in front of him at the small scarred table. Old, she’d thought, when she’d first seen it. Like it had graced this house a long time, and others before then.

He pulled a chair out and sat down before the bowl. Paulette seated herself across from him.

She watched him eat in silence, wondering if she should ask how his day had gone.

But she knew it wouldn’t start a conversation.

Mostly he watched, seemed to absorb whatever information he needed, and that was alright with Paulette. There were a lot of things that could be learned about a man when he wasn’t talking — the things that caught his attention, the things that brought out that little tick in his jaw, that made his shoulders tense suddenly.

He was watching her now, she knew, in between the spoonfuls of his supper. But there was something new in his gaze. It seemed to spark the air between them.

Just as it had when their skin had brushed in the past. A little current that seemed to have no beginning or end and just looped between them, stronger every moment they didn’t step away from it. She could feel it now, even though they weren’t touching, drawing her closer to him.

She realized he’d stopped eating. Not that the food was gone, or cold, or even that he looked especially full. But that new spark she’d seen in his eyes was growing, he was alight with it.

She swallowed hard, suddenly feeling overheated. The chair’s feet scraped against the floor as she scooted back, standing up, one hand on the edge of the table, the other reaching forward for the bowl. She was going to put some distance between them until she cooled off. Until whatever was in his eyes had dulled.

That was her plan, but his hand reached out, catching her around the wrist, and she froze in place, her hand in his, the bowl beneath her fingertips.

He was surprisingly warm — warmer than she’d thought he would be. And that same heat was coursing through her, spreading outward from beneath his palm, all the way to the tips of her toes.

“Thank you for the stew,” he said, and his voice was rough, low in his throat, like he didn’t use it very often, like the words he said were few and far between, and somehow she had deserved to hear some of them.

“You’re welcome.” Her own voice was on the verge of breathless, and while she thought she should feel threatened by his touch, she felt anything but.

She thought he might let her go. Instead, he stood as well, pulling her toward him, until she was stepping around the edge of the table, moving nearer to him as though she were a marionette caught by his strings.

His other hand moved up to the collar of her dress, popping open the two pearl buttons at the top, peeling the eyeletted fabric away from her neck until it was exposed to his view. His touch.

He was drawing his finger along that space between her jaw and her shoulder, the skin smooth and silken beneath his fingers, her pulse quickening, drawing him close to her.

The hand that had been holding her wrist finally dropped it, but she didn’t move away from him. She stood as she had been, stock still in front of him, barely breathing as his hand skimmed up the length of her arm, over the curve of her shoulder, toward the back of her head.

His fingers were surprisingly gentle as they slipped into her hair and freed the mass from its confines, her hair falling down, loose around her shoulders and down her back.

“Like gold,” he said, his voice captivated and captivating at the same time, and she was stepping in toward him as though compelled, unable to stop herself and not wanting to.

This close she could see how thick his lashes were, the delicate shape of his ear. When he moved toward her mouth, she tipped her face up to his, and when their lips met there was another delicious shiver that seemed to move through them both.

He was gentle, unhurried, like he had just stopped in for a taste. His fingers in her hair and on her skin were trailing heat. She felt the fire spreading through her, barely contained.

Her own hands were moving along his chest, the material of his clothing the only thing between her hands and his flesh, and she was dying to know if his skin would be hot to the touch.

She had thought every man’s touch would be like Robert’s had been. Kind, clumsy, complacent.

But that wasn’t the case.

Zed’s touch was becoming laced with urgency, sweet and demanding and curious and sure, and she was caught up in it, her hands sliding into his hair as she kissed him back, her body pressed between his and the table.

She tasted sweet, like something he shouldn’t have, and when he pulled away from her and her pale skin was flushed, one hand in his hair, the other caught in her shirt, he was thinking he needed to get away from her before he made an even bigger mess of everything.

“I apologize,” he said, the words hard. “I oughtn’t to have done that.”

He pulled away from her, officially separating from her and was at the door before she’d caught her breath.

She didn’t even have time to tell him there was no need to apologize before he had gone.

And she was alone in the house again, the gentle crackle of the fire and the occasional quiet mew of the baby the only company.

Chapter Five

Zed was back in the mountain.

He’d been spending as much time there as possible, on edge, denying himself the possibility of returning to Paulette. He kept revisiting their last encounter, every moment of it in vivid detail.

If he had to chain himself to the caverns, that was just going to be the way of it. There was no he could allow what had happened to happen again.

The kiss, gentle, sweet and provocative, had seared him to the core. Every fiber of his being had been raging, threatening to spill over that brink and into his other self.

He hadn’t been able to contain his dragon that night. He’d fled the little home, the warm lights, the tender, soft body of the woman he desired — the one who had looked shocked first by the kiss, then again by his departure.

Zed had melted into the blackness, and when he’d reached the flat, open western facing side of the mountain he thought of as his secret, sacred place, he’d shed his clothing and let his beast free.

With the darkness complete, he’d stretched his wings, let the cool air rush against his scales, his crest, and with a predatory scream he knew would only add fuel to the fire about the monster of the mountain, he took to the air, moving out toward the endless expanse of ocean, desperate to put time and space between him and Paulette, to exorcise some of that burning energy out of his being.

When he could smell dawn in the air, taste the incoming day, he’d forced himself to turn back to the mountain, to rein himself in.

That part was always difficult. The return. Where he gave up one half of who he was, forced to bury it beneath the human side in order to coexist in the world.

He’d been trying not to think about her. Trying not to remember.

And it was damned hard.

He was hunting more than he should and changing more than he should to escape the hell he had inadvertently created for himself. He was caught in a whirlpool, and he didn’t want to know what was waiting for him at the bottom.

Sometimes he would creep down to the town, slow and quiet, to watch from the shadows. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to do it. For hours he had studied the house, watched it move from the dim lights of evening into the darkness of sleep. He had watched the office, people stepping through the door, until Paulette stepped out, sometimes baby in arms, sometimes turning in the opposite direction of the house to retrieve Abigail from the woman Zed had hired to watch the child.

He told himself it wasn’t strange. It wasn’t unsettling. It was normal to watch the things that belonged to him. The things he cared about. Just as normal as guarding his hoard.

Whether or not he should feel like that about Paulette wasn’t something he spent time considering.

When everyone had long been asleep, Zed would make his way back to the mountain, unwilling to stay the night in the office, knowing he wouldn’t be able to rest with Paulette so close.

The kiss kept running through his mind. How it was. What it could have led to. There was too much unexplored, begging to be revisited.

And that, he told himself, was why he kept returning, loitering on the edge of town like this, studying the door, willing it to open, for her to step out. For things to be different.

She was still in the office, the light burning brightly. Zed checked the sky. It wouldn’t be long now before she wrapped up for the evening, headed home for the night.

He recognized the man as soon as he saw him in his periphery. There was something familiar about the way he moved. The lumbering step, the way his shoulders rolled with each step.

A growl split the darkness, and he realized with some surprise it had come from him. The hair at the nape of his neck was on end, that sensation of danger sliding over his skin in forewarning

In the light of the storefront, the man’s face was lit clearly, the heavy beard, the sun-worn skin, the narrow eyes.

The man who’d attacked him at the base of the mountain. The one he’d caught just a glimpse of. The man who smelled damp and dark, and who’d made it a point to turn others against Zed.

And he was pulling open the door to the little shop where Zed’s woman sat, alone and unprotected.

He was moving quickly, resisting the urge to run, knowing the attention it would bring wouldn’t do anyone any favors.

He yanked the door open, every bad thing that could possibly be happening to Paulette and Abigail running through his mind.

So, when he saw the man seated across from the desk and Paulette flipping through a stack of papers, her lip caught between her teeth, Zed felt his breath catch, and realized he’d been holding it. He exhaled, waiting for his heartbeat to return to normal.

Paulette looked up from what Zed could only assume were the miner’s claim papers. She had been smiling at the man when Zed had walked through the door. He had seen the gentle curve of her mouth, the angle of her chin. She was the Paulette he spent countless hours thinking about. Those eyes. That openness.

Then she had seen him, a crease appearing in her brow, confusion moving over her features, and that smile had evaporated, and she was just looking at him with detached curiosity.

Of course, he thought. It wasn’t as though he’d made it a point to stop in and see her lately. He’d spent so much time trying to protect himself, protect her, from everything he was feeling that he’d failed to think about how that might make her feel as well.

“Zed,” she said, “how nice of you to stop in.”

There wasn’t anything else she could have said that would have shamed him more, except, possibly, “how sweet of you to take advantage of me in my own home and then not spare me a second glance.”

“Of course,” he managed between gritted teeth. “Just wanted to see how your day was progressing, my dear,” he stressed the words, hoping to remind everyone in the room that Paulette was his wife — for all intents and purposes — and he had no intention of sharing her with anyone else. Ever. “I thought I might accompany you on the walk home.”

“Oh. Well, that sounds quite lovely. Let me just finish up here with Mr. Copeland.”

“I’ll wait,” Zed said darkly, unconcerned with whether or not he was coming off as rude.

Zed stalked to the other side of the room, suddenly very interested in the books he kept there, running his finger over the spines as he continued to listen to Mr. Copeland and Paulette chatter about whatever it was he’d needed. Paulette’s voice was low, and soft, barely carrying over to his side of the room. His voice was bawdy, loud, into being heard.

Just listening to him talk was putting Zed on edge. That night kept running through his mind. The ambush. The rustling. The day after. His damned watch.

Zed was contemplating how hard he would have to throw one of the books at the miner to do any sort of serious, long-term damage when the man finally stood and prepared to leave. “Good day, then, Miss. Maybe I’ll be back to call on you. We could always go for a walk or share in a meal.”

Zed missed whatever Paulette might have said in response, the ringing of disbelief in his ears was too loud.

As though he weren’t even in the room.

He made a point of holding the man’s eyes as he left the office. He was itching for a fight, his dragon close to the surface, that ache in his shoulders settling back in, his body desperate for the freedom that came with the change.

The door closed, leaving Paulette and Zed alone again once more. There was a tentative edge to the atmosphere, like Paulette wasn’t sure what to expect, how to move forward.

“I just have a few more things to put away, and then I’ll be ready to go,” Paulette said, interrupting the litany of ways Zed was envisioning ruining the miner.

“I don’t want you to see him again,” Zed said as way of response, his voice hard and low, little more than an animal’s warning growl. “He is not to be trusted.”

“Well, he seemed perfectly pleasant to me, Zed.” She was making a point to not make eye contact with him. “He’s been by several times, and is always very cordial. You shouldn’t make judgements about people you’ve barely met.”

He remembered the dull ache in the back of his head, the one that had lingered for days after the attack. “Just, take my word on this one, Paulette, and don’t be alone with him. Don’t have the baby near him.” The anger was boiling up inside of him, sitting just below the surface, doing nothing to alleviate the dragon’s insistence.

“Really, Zed, I think you’re making this into something much bigger than it actually is.”

He growled.

“Fine. I heard you. I am just saying I think you’ve unfairly categorized him.” She was glaring at him, her hands on her hips, and Zed was thinking he should find her less attractive, determine she was nothing but another hassle in his life he did not need.

And that wasn’t the only thing he was thinking, which was only serving to make him more frustrated.

“You may think what you wish, as long as you respect the fact that I do not want you to see him again. And I certainly do not want to hear from someone else that you’ve been seen with him.”

He wanted to remind her that she was his, the way she had melted against him when he had kissed her, the way she had surrendered to him and the power that had surged between them. Instead, he said, “You will recall our arrangement.”

“I recall it,” she snapped, sliding the papers she’d been discussing with Copeland back into their place in the files. “You needn’t remind me.”

She stood abruptly, running her hands down the front of her skirt as though to shake out imaginary dust or wrinkles.

“Abigail is with the nursemaid, and I would retrieve her now, if that works for you, Sir.”

“Do not call me Sir,” he rumbled, distaste rising in his throat. “I will go with you.”

He did not add that afterward he would walk them home. He would see the bolt of the door slide into place. He would walk the perimeter of the building. He would account for any and every sound, and then he would settle into the woods across the street and he would watch.

He would watch all night, and not blink. He would watch them because they were his.

Chapter Six

Paulette flounced through her evening rituals, awash in irritation. Of all the asinine things for Zed to dictate to her, telling her she was not allowed — as though she were a child! — to engage in conversation with another human being, a client, no less, was utterly ridiculous.

She soothed the infant the best she could, knowing Abigail was feeding into the very heat of frustration Paulette was feeling, was fussing in response to the aggravation that had set her on edge. But there was no curbing it, not even for the peace a sleeping child would bring her.

Honestly! The way men felt they could boss around the people who were close to them. As though she and Abigail were little more than another one of his many possessions. To be owned and controlled. Disgusting.

Once she’d managed to set Abigail down for the night, Paulette lit into the laundry necessities that had to happen. The stockings. The underwear. The baby bibs.

She scrubbed them until they had been beaten into cleanliness and submission, until her hands were raw, and the floor was splattered with sudsy water.  And when she had finally worn away the edge of her anger, she collapsed into an exhausted sleep.

The night had been endless.

Zed had kept his vigil until daybreak lit the sky, and then retreated to his cave, the fatigue catching up with him. He hadn’t realized how on edge the miner’s arrival had made him, how little he could protect Abigail and Paulette from within the parameters of their current arrangement.

It wasn’t sufficient, anymore, he determined as he’d made his way up the mountain. This no longer suited their needs. This back and forth. The pretense of it all.

He needed to be with them. Every night, to guard them, his precious things.

The thought caught him off guard, surprised him. His precious things had always been in the cave, his monies and gems and jewels, the things he had spent human lifetimes collecting.

And now, suddenly, his precious things were warm and breathing and vulnerable. Much too vulnerable.

He was going to need to prove to Paulette that was the way it needed to be — the only way their arrangement could possibly work.

He was going to win her approval — in the only way he knew how.

Zed started making more frequent appearances.

In fact, Paulette realized when she actually stopped to consider it, he was stopping in once, even twice a day. There was no way he was repeatedly commuting back up the mountain. She hadn’t been there, yet, but she had heard that it was steep and winding and that there was no quick way to do it. Zed was visiting far too frequently to be making the trip every time.

And now, when he made his appearances, he wasn’t coming empty handed.

He no longer came to join her for supper. He would walk through the door, or wait for her outside of the office. He would hand her coins and jewelry and trinkets and tell her he had brought her something.

At first she took them, flattered, accepting. She had seemed happy with the gifts. But, the more Zed came, the greater the gifts he brought her, the more disinterested in them — in him — she seemed to become.

He couldn’t figure it out.

“You know, I don’t need you to bring me these things,” she said one evening, studying the unusual chalice he’s handed her, pursing her lips. She couldn’t think of a single use for it. Truly. It would not help her prepare the food. It would not help her do the wash. It was just one more thing he seemed to bring in an effort to make her appreciate that he could bring her things.  “I do wish you would stop.”

He noted the perturbed tone in her voice, but couldn’t seem to extract anything beyond that. “Nonsense,” he said, “these are perfect things for you to have. You can start your own collection.”

He positively beamed at her, and Paulette wondered what sort of things she would be able to accomplish with a whole collection of useless gifts.

In truth, she missed the other things. The things she could use that showed he’d actually been thinking of her and her needs when he had picked them out for her. The baby blankets. The bonnets. The personal pieces he’d seen that had reminded him of her. The little things.

Now it was coins and money and shiny things she didn’t want, that she had no use for, which literally meant less than nothing to her, and which Zed couldn’t seem to understand were mostly offensive to her.

And here, piece by piece, he had been merging his collection of things he owned, and the people he cared about.

Each passing day left Paulette with a stronger disliking for the gifts. A greater distaste in her mouth.

She tried not to think of that one kiss, but it was hard not to remember the exact feel, the way it had sent those little shivers all the way down to her toes. How different it had been from how she thought it always was.

She kept coming back to it. The feel of his lips on hers. The way her heart had skipped. His skin on hers. She could barely be in the room with him without thinking of it, of wondering where that moment had gone.

And worse, much worse, was that Zed seemed totally unfazed by the experience. He hadn’t even touched her since. Not intentionally. Not accidentally. And she knew because she’d been keeping track.

He kept his hands politely to himself, his eyes averted. He brought her the endless train of belongings, and it seemed as though he never once considered what it might be like to hold her in his arms again.

She was that undesirable.

Paulette thought about the miner who had stopped by the office. Copeland. He seemed nice enough, despite what Zed had to say about him. He made eye contact, he smiled politely. He seemed to want to be near her just to be near her. The way he’d suggested dinner, or maybe a walk, just some time to get to know one another. Those other times where it seemed like he was just popping in for a quick hello, to check on his lease payments.

Of course, it had been wrong that Copeland had made those suggestions at all, and especially while Zed was there. Zed had made it plain that she belonged to him, and was not simply hired work. He had made it plain to everyone within earshot.

She was just another one of those pretty baubles of his.

Paulette couldn’t help but wonder if the arrangement had been a mistake. True, she’d felt Zed had been cold in the beginning, uncaring. And then, also true, she had thought there was something more to him, something kind underneath all that distance.

And then there had been that kiss — heated and passionate and all the things she thought had been missing in her life. And afterward, nothing but more coldness, the very edge of unfriendliness.

There must be more to the life she had left to live than just that. She loved Abigail, completely. And she would never regret the alliance she’d made with Zed to protect her, but was there something else out there she was missing?

She wasn’t sure she could stomach it if there weren’t.

Chapter Seven

The miner stopped by again, and when he did, Paulette realized she’d been waiting for him to come by — waiting for the opportunity to sort through all those things she’d been feeling. It had seemed like a lifetime since anyone had paid her the kind of attention he had. She couldn’t help but brighten at his arrival.

He stepped through the door, hat in hand, and even if he was less groomed than Zed, he seemed genuine when he asked her how her day was going, when he gave her a gap-toothed grin. Like he really wanted to hear about the conversations she’d had and the work she had completed. It was nice to have someone interested in what she had to say, instead of being only interested in procuring expensive items she had no need or use for.

“Well, Miss,” he said after they’d exchanged the usual pleasantries. The weather. The town. The conversation had been light and easy, and everything Paulette thought a conversation from someone who was interested in pursuing a woman should have been. She stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. “I was just stopping by because I was having some problems with my site claim, and I was wondering if you could come and take a look at it, maybe bring the paperwork to solve a dispute. See, Marcus has the plot next to mine and he’s just found some gold near the mouth of this stream that runs between our properties. As I recall, the stream is on my side, and thereby, the gold he’s found belongs to be. As he recalls, the stream lies on his side, and that vein belongs to him. I was hoping you could pull the records and come give us your opinion. Maybe after, if it pleases you, we could get that dinner we talked about.”

It did please her, even only to be asked. “Well, of course, I can do that.” But she didn’t follow up on the dinner invitation. She didn’t deny it. She wasn’t sure what to do with it at all, so she just let it sit there, ripe for revisitation as she stood and began to pull the material she would need to fulfill his request.

He gave his claim number. Claims frequently switched hands without the Broker’s knowledge, miners trading back and forth, caught in a downward betting spiral, dying and having their claim usurped. It was easier to keep track of the number tied to their claim, and that was what the office used for its record keeping. As far as Paulette was concerned, it didn’t matter if Mr. Copeland was number 712, or if that number belonged to the neighbor. The only thing she was looking for were the cold hard facts of the claim. She pulled both numbers — one for Mr. Copeland and one his neighbor, Marcus.

Paulette slipped on her outer coat, happy she had left Abigail with the nursemaid for the day instead of bringing her into the office like she’d thought she would. But Abigail had seemed unusually fussy, and Paulette had been certain that, if she’d gone to the office not much would be accomplished.

She turned toward Mr. Copeland. “Do lead the way. I’ll follow you.”

He headed out the door, tugging his hat back into place on his head, and she didn’t hesitate, slipping the key in the door and twisting it locked before heading after him.

For a moment she thought about rushing inside and scribbling Zed a note. Just in case, she told herself. But, just in case what? In case he was right? She bristled just thinking about it. Paulette was still convinced there was nothing about Zed’s assessment of Mr. Copeland that was accurate. She was sure it was just another case of one man jealously attacking another. She pushed everything Zed had said out of her mind, even though it was dangerously close to the forefront. Even though, she knew, she would have thought twice about this journey if Zed hadn’t insisted she stay away from Mr. Copeland and his advances in the first place. Ironic how that emphasis from him only made her want to ignore that little twinge of negativity she had felt growing in her stomach.

The site was quite a walk, and Paulette was wishing the day was warmer, brighter. It was amazing to think how many of the miners walked to and from their sites day after day. She couldn’t help but think of Zed now, at his own claim, possibly as far away from her as the East Coast felt. She wondered abruptly if she should have begged off the trip, said the renderings weren’t accurate enough for her to tell and she needed to have Zed with her for a final assessment. With every step away from the office, she felt her stomach sink a little further.

She was really starting to wish she’d gone ahead and left that note for him, after all.

In truth, by the time they had arrived at the location, Paulette was running through a number of things she could have said, could still say, to enable her to make a hasty retreat. There was something about the way the wind had settled, about the darkness that had started to seep around them, that had her spooked.

Maybe it was the sudden, hard set of his shoulders, or maybe it was the way the smile had steeled from his face — how his eyes had become cold and hard, and barely interested in what she had to offer, in any way, shape, or form.

But then they were at the opening of the mouth of the little babbling stream, and he turned toward her and gestured further up the mountain. “If you come this way, you can see exactly where he found the nuggets.”

Paulette moved up past him, focusing on that space where he had pointed, searching for some sign of exactly where the gold had been found, tendrils of fear and discomfort slipping down her spine.

She was part way up the hillside, peering down toward the water when it happened. He was so quick about it, she barely had time to register the pain, the sudden weightless feeling of her body, the knowledge that her feet were coming out from underneath her, and his hands were wrapped tightly around her body.

“That’s right, pretty girl.” He was growling in her ear, his words were hard and angry. “You can tell me all about whether or not you think that money belongs to me. We can pass that along to your little dandy when he comes here searching for you.” He sneered at her, and she was at a loss for the sudden change in his temperament, in his being. His eyes became darker, sparking with something she didn’t want to see. “And he will come for you.”

The gentle man she’d thought he had been was gone, and in his wake was this one, with the angry slivers for eyes, the sneer marring his face, he jabbed at her with one hand and yanked her arm painfully behind her with the other, pushing her forward up the hill so she had little choice but to place one foot in front of the other and allow herself to be steered further and further from her home.

And from Zed. With certainty, she knew he had been right. Copeland was obviously not to be trusted, just like Zed had insisted. And now Zed wouldn’t know where to find her, or even how to look for her. There were no guarantees he would come for her if he couldn’t piece together where she had gone. She didn’t want to think about what that might mean for her. What would happen if he didn’t realize she’d been forced somewhere against her will? What would happen if he didn’t retrieve Abigail from the nursemaid’s house when he was supposed to? Even if he could figure it all out, there were no guarantees he would be able to find where Copeland had taken her. What was going to happen if she couldn’t get her way out of this?

He pushed her along none too gently, until she was walking along a narrow little edge, the empty air beside her a constant reminder of the kind of trouble she was in. They continued until she was standing in a small outcropping of rock — an outcropping Mr. Copeland had obviously planned on using.

He collected the rope and knife that had been sitting there, patiently awaiting her arrival, and bound her wrists and ankles, meticulously tying them to each other so there was no hope of making it back along that narrow little ledge and back to the relative safety of the mountainside.

“You just wait here for me. I’ll come back for you.” He bared his teeth in what Paulette suspected was supposed to be a smile, but that seemed more like a snarl. “And we’ll see what we can get out of your man.”

Then he was moving back along the ledge, and Paulette was left behind, pressing her body into the solid wall of rock behind her, the jagged edges gouging through the thin material of her dress.

Zed had been up and down the street a half a dozen times. Something wasn’t right. He’d known right away, but every passing moment confirmed the fact.

Paulette wasn’t in the office. The door was locked and she was gone. She wasn’t in the house. The door was locked and she was gone.

And when he made his way to the nursemaid’s house, Abigail was safe and accounted for.

So where was Paulette, then?

He’d imagined she’d had a quick errand to run. Maybe she’d stopped to pick up some produce. Maybe she’d gone out of her way to swing by a neighbor’s.

In brief spurts he imagined any number of reasons she might have left her designated posts.

But none of those really made sense. She was always in one place or the other, or close enough to see.

And most importantly, she was never without Abigail.

The more time that crept by, the more Zed was certain something had happened to her.

And if he was a betting man — and he wasn’t because bets were always rigged — he would say it had everything to do with that damned miner. The very one he had told Paulette not to have anything to do with. The one she had practically bent over backwards to defend.

He was angry all over again, just thinking about it. Her stubbornness. Her insistence. Damn that Paulette.

He was wondering what steps he needed to take next when the man made his appearance. He moved slow, and easy, like the cat who’d swallowed the canary — like there was nothing Zed could do to him.

He clenched and unclenched his fist. How wrong the miner was. Zed would just as soon see the man dead than anything else. And if he’d had half an indication where Paulette might be, there wouldn’t have been any waiting.

But Zed could wait. He had centuries of practice cultivating patience under his belt, and he would use that patience now.

“Copeland,” he growled, his whole body rumbling with the sound of his voice, though it was barely greater than conversation level — hard, emotionless. “What have you done with her?”

The miner made a little sound, like Zed’s distress meant nothing to him, did nothing but please him and stroke his ego.

“I knew she was the ticket I needed. The minute I saw you with her, I knew once I had her I would have you.” Copeland’s eyes narrowed and he brought up a hand to that grizzled beard. “If you want your girl now, I think you’d like to come with me.”

There were many things Zed would like to do, and following along complacently behind Copeland was not one of them.

But, like Copeland said, he did have the ticket, and Zed was going to do whatever it took to get Paulette back. Even though that would mean following Copeland, presumably somewhere where Zed wouldn’t have the upper hand.

The miner didn’t wait for an answer. He turned on his heel and walked away from Zed, his very swagger insulting. His confidence in his ability to remain untouchable a slap in the face. As though Zed couldn’t leap onto him from there, and end this debacle all at once.

But he couldn’t. Or he could, but where would that leave Paulette?

Wherever Copeland had stashed her, and around here that could be a lot of places. And wherever she was, she could be in more than one kind of danger.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when they made their way toward Copeland’s claim. It didn’t take a genius to know what this was all about. Copeland felt he was entitled to more than he had. He’d made it plain with Zed that he felt Zed was hiding money and wealth from the others, that he was stealing it out from underneath them all, even though he was the only one who even had an actual right to that money.

Like he hadn’t been the one collecting it all these years. Hoarding it all these years. Protecting it. And then these miners sweep in and want to know why they can’t walk out with it in their hands.

They walked past the little path Zed knew meandered through the triangular claim. He knew there were two other pieces and the boundary line wasn’t well defined — he knew because he’d dealt with all of the miners on one occasion or another, fielded their complaints about their neighbor taking what they felt was theirs, impeding on the success they felt they deserved to have. He knew because he knew every inch of this mountain.

It didn’t take Zed long to realize they weren’t heading directly to wherever Copeland was planning on taking him. Copeland had moved forward, doubled back, made exaggerated loops in their walk. Whatever Copeland was playing at, he wasn’t going to find success in it.

If he thought he could turn Zed around, or if he felt he knew the land better than Zed did, he was going to be in for a rude awakening. No one knew this land better than Zed. He had walked these hills and paths before men had even settled there, when it had been just him and the mountainside. He knew every little stream that ran dry in the hot months, and every little reservoir that held water when every other bit was gone. He knew which mountainside was steady and what would crumble under your feet with no warning.

There was literally no advantage Copeland had over Zed.

Except, he knew where Paulette was, and right now, that seemed like the biggest single advantage any man could ever have over him.

It was after dark now, and while Zed did not struggle with the loss of light, the miner did, beginning to pick his way more slowly, more carefully.

He heard her before he saw her, the ragged sound of her breathing, laced with panic. He could smell her on the wind, her sweet scent spiced with fear and longing and desperation.

Zed felt a new wave of hatred slice through him. That this miner could make Paulette feel that way, that he could so readily take away her peace and happiness, was enough to plunge Zed right back over the edge and into his frothy state of anger.

Copeland wouldn’t live to see the morning.

Zed knew it with a sudden urgency and conviction. There would be no saving him. He felt no regret or remorse over the realization.

Copeland had managed to get Paulette out on a little out cropping, her hands and feet bound, and she pressed herself into the side of the mountain, as though she were afraid the very wind would wrap itself around her and pull her to her end.

Zed felt that stretching in his shoulders, the ache that came from being denied his wings. In a heartbeat, he knew he could free the beast and change the dynamics of the encounter.

But, just as quickly, the man had stepped out onto the ledge, yanking Paulette to her feet, pushing her in front of him and toward the edge, so there was nothing between Zed and Paulette’s wide, frightened eyes.

“Zed,” she said, and her voice was hoarse. Hoarse, and pleading, and scared, and relieved all at once.

His jaw clenched, anger swelling within him.

Copeland gave Paulette a playful little push toward the edge, like he just wanted to hear her cry out. Like feeling the fear that was seeping out of her brought him joy and satisfaction.

Zed heard a snap, and realized it was coming from him, his tenuous hold on humanity shattering into nothing. He felt that ache of his shoulders again, punctuated with pain.

One minute he was there. The miner and Paulette were watching him, the miner gleeful at his position of power, Paulette desperate for rescue. And the next, Zed was gone, and in his place was the massive dragon, caught between the trees and craggy edges of the mountain.

His neck was long and proud, arched, his teeth were sharp and on full display. The sound he made was caught somewhere between a bellow and a mechanical screech, and it filled the air between them, plumes of smoke and dirt making it hard for either Paulette or the miner to see.

But neither needed to see.

Paulette felt her body jerk, and just like that she was free of the miner, the man nowhere to be seen.

She heard the strong beat of wings against wind, felt the rush of air against her face. Then the dust and smoke was clearing, and it was just her on the outcropping, still bound.

The dragon was still there, his wings huge and outstretched behind him, perched a few yards from her on a large bounder, his back toward the open air behind him, his wings and tails unhindered by the earth, moments away from carrying him off into the sky.

It was impossible. The whole thing was impossible. It was impossible that she had seen Zed turn into a dragon, entirely impossible that there was a dragon here at all.

But here he was, watching her, large, diamond snake eyes, unblinking, watching her balefully. The strong flick of his tail, the way he threw his head back, gave another one of those indescribable screams, and then was wheeling backwards, tipping into the sky, wings and scales and all, just a moment later, barely more than a dot, a hazy recollection of what might have once been a dragon.

Paulette collapsed back against the rock, left alone once more. Was that dragon Zed? Whether it was or not, she was going to have to sit back and wait for him to come back and get her.

It had been a mistake. Zed knew that. He shouldn’t have let the beast claim him. He shouldn’t have let Paulette see what he truly was.

He pulled a hand through his hair and paced another small circle.

The look in Paulette’s eyes. It was enough to kill him.

He’d seen terror in all kinds of eyes. His lifetime was long and it had spanned many encounters with humans. As the dragon. As the man, the shifter. But he had never cared as much about seeing the fear as he had when it flared in Paulette’s eyes. It was a punch to the gut. And maybe it was deserved. After all, he had sent that miner flying to his death.

Zed wasn’t going to be able to pace much longer. He was going to have to face whatever it was Paulette was going to say to him when he saw her.

He knew she was up there still, alone in the dark, waiting for the rescue he had promised her. He knew she was frightened, possibly more frightened after his rescue, just as much a captive as she had been in Copeland’s grasp.

Would she be afraid of him? Would she cower from him the same way she had from the miner? Would she welcome him, like she had when she placed supper in front of him? Would she keep his secret?

What if she refused to protect his identity? He wouldn’t be able to hurt her. He wouldn’t be able to threaten her into submission. He would leave it all, leave her.

Somewhere in this world there had to be an unoccupied mountain top, not besieged by miners with picks and hopes of finding gold. If this place could not be his, if she could not be his, he would find some other place that would have him. He would learn how to live without Paulette. Without Abigail.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to move up the mountain and back toward Paulette, straightening his shoulders, embracing his resolve. The time was now. Waiting would do no one any good.

Chapter Eight

The sun had long since set, the dark settling around her. She could almost pretend that precipice wasn’t merely a few feet away. It had grown chilly on the mountainside, the wind picking up, slicing through her dress, blistering against her skin.

Paulette wondered if, at some point, it would be safer for her to try and go than it would be for her to sit and stay. Except there wasn’t going to be a way for her to navigate that ledge while still trapped in restraints.

She’d brought this whole mess down on herself, really. She didn’t like to think about it that way, but there it was. This could have been avoided, if only she’d given half a thought to what Zed had said to her. If only she hadn’t gone on thinking it was impossible for her to be wrong.

She was running her hands over the rocky ground beneath her, the walls behind her, looking for anything that might be sharp enough to help her escape her bindings when she heard him say her name. It barely carried on the wind, and she supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised that she hadn’t heard him approach.

Animal. Monster. Whatever he was or had been, now he was the man she’d known. The one who had been kind to her, who had given her a place to live, her daughter a future, when so many men would have turned away from her, wouldn’t have cast her a second glance.

“Zed.” She answered in a soft voice. Too soft, she thought, and she wondered if he would be able to hear her over the winds and the rustle of the trees.

But she needn’t have worried, because he was there before her, hands reaching down to slice through her bindings and pull her to her feet. His hands were warm, grounding. They reminded her of everything he had done for her — not the least of which had been saving her life that day.

Then she was standing in front of him and his hands were moving over her arms, the side of her face, twisting her this way and that as though he could see despite the darkness, like he was checking for any signs of damage.

“You are well?” he asked, and his voice was gruff and sincere, laced with emotion and no longer detached, like it had been when he had said her name moments before. His touch was all the things she had remembered it being from the time before, where his mouth had been hungry on hers, his hands moving gently over her skin.

She laid her hand on his arm. It was solid, comforting and human. Not like it could ever belong to the monster she had seen before, the one trimmed in scales and teeth and plumes of flames. This was the man she had come to know.

When she didn’t pull away from him, he folded her into his arms, like she was something precious he had come a long way to keep. He was murmuring something in her ear, words she didn’t recognize, couldn’t make out, but sweet and reassuring nonetheless.

Then his mouth found hers, and she melted into his kiss.

“I’m so sorry, Zed, I should have listened when you told me about Copeland. I just…I didn’t think —”

“No apologies, Paulette. If I had told you more, the rest of the story, if I had done a better job…If I hadn’t left you alone so much, none of this would have happened.”

His words were hard and unwilling to compromise. A silence settled between them, lulling Paulette into a sense of peace, the day finally catching up to her, exhaustion close on its heels.

“Come, there is something I want to show you,” he said, taking her hand in his and leading her down the way they had come.

It was dark and she was slow, but he never made her feel like she needed to rush, even though it was clear he would have been moving much faster on his own. And truthfully, she wasn’t worried, Zed had her hand in his, and she was certain he would keep her safe. They wound up and down and around, until they were on a large flat portion of mountainside that led into the mouth of a cave.

From here she could appreciate the dramatic backdrop of the ocean and the moon, beautiful in its wild, untamed, and raw way.

“This is where I spend my time,” Zed said, sweeping wide with his arm, encompassing the empty space in front of them and the darkness of the cave behind him. “When I am not with you, I am here.”

He turned, melting into the darkness of the cave, and Paulette hurried to step in after him, certain that if she lost him in the blackness, she would never be able to find him again, that he would remain lost to her and she would be in the cave alone, endlessly.

She set her hand on his shoulder, looking to ground herself, and he turned back toward her, his hand wrapping around hers and pulling her forward. “You needn’t worry; you won’t lose me.”

Even though it was dark, she could hear that little grin in his voice, the one that was dangerously close to a smirk. She imagined she could see the flash of his teeth, the warmth of his smile.

Smirk or not, it soothed her to hear the words.

She wasn’t sure how deep the cave went, or whether they were in the main body any more or not, but she could no longer see moonlight filtering in, and the blackness surrounding them seemed total, infinite.

“We’re almost there,” he murmured, as though he could feel the tension welling up inside of her, as though he knew she needed to be reassured that they were going to end up where he had planned on taking her all along — that they wouldn’t be lost in the black caves he considered his home.

There was a scrape, a shuffle, the clink of flint, and then there was light, soft and blinding because they had been without for so long.

And in the room with them was treasure — there was no other word to describe it. Bars and coins of gold and silver, a stash of jewels and priceless art, stacks of paper money.

Her gasp was audible, even loud in the room that held nothing else but the stash. Not even a chair for Zed to sit on.

And the room itself was huge. She had felt like the paths they had taken to get there had been tight, just big enough for them to walk through side by side, but this space was wide open, cavernous, in the true sense of the word.

She thought about the big monster with the triangular head and flaring nostrils.

Certainly large enough for him.

“Is there another way in?”

If he seemed surprised that, of all the questions she might ask, that would be the first she would ask, he did not mention it.

In the light she could make out his eyes, sharp, dark and handsome. Not those same eyes she’d looked into earlier in the day, the gold and green flecked with a slice of black through the middle.

“There is,” he said.” It is on the cliffside and more direct. It is not reachable. For humans.”

He said it casually, and carefully, like maybe he still wasn’t sure how she would react to hearing that said aloud, to hearing that maybe there was something else out there besides humans in the first place.

Paulette hesitated, like she didn’t know how to bring up what she wanted to say, as though she were concerned she might offend him, or say something she could never take back. “The miners who’ve come in, they’ve talked about the monster who guards the mountain.”

There was a long silence, while she waited for him to speak and then she continued. “It’s you. The monster.”

He turned his eyes away from her, and she wondered if, perhaps, he didn’t appreciate being called a monster.

“It has always been me,” he said roughly. “Always, since before there were even people here to complain about it.”

“Are there…others?”

It seemed impossible to think that there could be a whole group of people like Zed, who could change at their whim into another being altogether. Dragons. Paulette found herself wondering what other imaginary creatures might be more fact than imaginary.

He shook his head. “Our kind is an endangered one. The dragons are lost. Those, like me, who straddle the worlds, we are few. Babies are seldom born. I have met a handful like me in my life, and we do not linger together long. You see how it is here, for me, and there is only one. We do not go unnoticed, even when we try.”

She stepped toward him, bold and unafraid. She drew one hand over his chest, pausing over his heart to feel its steady rhythm beneath her hand. “But you seem so…human.”

Now she got to see the smirk instead of just hear it. “Oh, yes. When I am not monster.”

She frowned. “You know I didn’t mean it like that. I don’t think of you like that. A monster.”

She hadn’t thought about it that way until she was saying it out loud, but she supposed it was true. At first, she had considered the word monster, but only because she didn’t have another word for it. When it came down to it, she thought of him as a man — a man who had given her an incredible gift, a great opportunity in taking her in. The man who brought her things because — she realized suddenly, with his treasures around her — he wanted to share those treasures he valued with her.

She was sliding her hand down his chest, stepping into him, until his body was just a breath’s space from hers. She couldn’t bear to meet his eyes, feared the rejection she might see in them, because he was all of this, had all of this, and she was just a human woman, with nothing much to give. A human woman who couldn’t even follow his directions, who put herself in danger, who caused him trouble.

He stood still beneath her caresses, as she slipped one hand up toward the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his dark hair, the other hand moving down the front of his shirt, like she was waiting for permission to unbutton his shirtfront.

She hesitated at the top button, as though she wouldn’t be able to go on.

“Don’t stop,” he growled, and there was an urgency in his voice that couldn’t be missed or mistaken. The buttons passed easily through her fingers, until she was pushing the white fabric off over his shoulders, the thin cotton undershirt quickly removed, until he was nearly naked in front of her, his skin glowing a rich amber in the semi-lit space, infused with the same gold as their backdrop.

His chest was broad and heavily-muscled, the strong cut of his shoulders inviting her touch.

With the shirt gone, his skin was almost hot to the touch, and Paulette could feel that thing inside of her she’d been barely holding at bay come roaring through her, to the surface.

She knew with a certainty that this, this caress, was not going to be enough.

As if he could read her thoughts, he brought his own hands to her waist, carefully pulling free the sash she wore, spinning her around to unfasten the pearl buttons at the top of the high collar dress.

Like her, he made short work of the task, his fingers nimble as they moved down the line of buttons, following the curve of her back.

He slipped the dress off of her shoulders, let it fall to the ground so her pale skin was exposed, the thin silk of her undergarments the only thing hiding her from his eyes.

He pulled her around again, so she was facing him, and the heat in his eyes, the glow from the room, made her feel like the undergarments were doing very little to protect her from his eyes.

She could feel his desire. It was coming off of him in waves, wrapping around her, pulling her close and intoxicating her.

And she wanted him just as badly. That night at the dinner table kept playing through her mind, and all those times she’d thought about what might have been to come, what else might have happened between them.

It was going to happen now.

He was pulling her toward him then, suddenly anxious to taste her, his mouth on hers, his hands moving to divest her of the scrap of silk she wore, until she was naked and perfect before him.

She couldn’t say how it had happened. They were upright, and his hands were on her body, tasting her curves, the shape of her breast and the swell of her hips, and her hands were caught in his hair and tugging at his trousers, and then, suddenly, they were on the floor of the cave, the stone cool and hard beneath her, his body warm and heavy on top.

And hard. She felt him press against the inside of her thigh. Thick and long and fully aroused.

She let her hand brush up against him, capture his length, stroke him while his tongue invaded her mouth, while his hand moved toward her core.

Then he was sliding his fingers up against her, finding her warmth and delving into her, setting an easy pace, like he had nothing to do but watch the pleasure move across her face and move in waves through her body.

It had been a long time since she had been touched like this. When she had been a newlywed, maybe, before she’d set off on the journey west, where every day had been exhausting and she and Robert had been completely taxed, and then she’d been pregnant and nothing about this — pleasure for the sake of pleasure — had been a high priority.

And then, just like that, she’d found herself a widow, and it seemed like moments like this were something she might never have again, something she had even forgotten existed, forgotten that she might want.

Paulette could feel the ache building insider of her. She wrapped her hand more tightly around Zed, loving the sound he made in return, suddenly desperate to have him inside of her, to fully give herself to the man who had already given so much to her.

She pulled him toward her, nipping at his lower lip, drawing him to her until she was tucked completely beneath him, bringing her legs up and inviting him inside of her.

He needed no more invitation, with a gentle kiss he was moving upward, sliding into her slick depths, just as desperate to feel her as she had been to feel him.

And then there was nothing tender or unhurried about their union. She matched his pace, asked for more, her hands moving freely over his body, caressing his shoulders and back, dipping down to cup him and pull him more closely to her.

“Don’t stop.” It was her turn to moan in his ear, to beg for the pleasure he was giving her.

And he was only too happy to comply.

Chapter Nine

Afterward, they lay sated and spent on the cool cave floor, Paulette tucked neatly into Zed, marveling at how well she fit against him, at how easily his body enveloped hers. Everything had been perfect. The kind of perfection you were sure couldn’t be real until it was happening. She gave a little sigh, reaching for him again.

She knew they would have to leave this place, this sweet sanctuary where she had been allowed to know him — all of him — just as he had her. That they would return to the little home she thought of as hers.

And try to figure out how to bring this back with them. To let him be a part of their lives the way she knew with certainty she wanted him to be. To be the first thing she woke to, the last thing she saw at night. She wanted to see the baby in his arms, that irritating endearing smirk. All of it.

As much as she never wanted to leave this place, she was ready to go back. She was more than ready to have Abigail in her arms again, to feel that soft, small body against hers, and know she had been given a reprieve, and the right to raise her as she had always wanted.

But this, Zed’s hard, warm body, the way he was moving his hands over her skin. It was hard to give it up. Even for just a little while.

She finally disentangled herself from him, reaching for her dress, trying not to become distracted by the way his hand was moving over the small of her back, down further over the curve of her backside.

“Zed,” she whispered, caught somewhere between warning and desire. “We should get back. To Abigail.”

“Ah, yes,” he gave her a lazy grin, his hand continuing its progress, and it had her thinking of all the things he had done to her body, another tremor of excitement, anticipation of the pleasure she knew he would bring to her again, slipping through her. “Abigail. The other woman in my life.”

She turned away from him, trying to hide her grin. It felt strange to hear those words on his lips. She hadn’t been anyone’s woman in a long time.

And now here she was — his, completely.

And he was hers.

THE END

SHADOW SPECTER

DEPARTMENT 99

STORY DESCRIPTION

Agent Lillian Smithson works in the ghost hunting sector of Department 99. Her specialty is dealing with spirits and ghosts.

Agent Caleb Winters is a bold and brash bear shifter. He has an imposing physical presence and is a member of the Department’s Demonic Response team which sometimes works closely with the ghost hunting sector of the organization.

Caleb has always carried a torch for the petite, fiery red-headed agent Lillian Smithson. This latest case has them working side by side fighting a demon the likes of which the Department has never seen before. Caleb is doing his best to keep his head and hands on the case where they belong, but damned if his every thought doesn’t stray back to Lillian.

When Lillian’s fierce independence gets her into life-threatening trouble, can Caleb get to her before it’s too late?

DEPARTMENT 99

It’s difficult to get a grasp of exactly what has been happening in the world today, and there are as of yet many unknowns. Regardless, with all of the “new versions” of beings appearing, it has become increasingly important to deal with certain issues. This is where the Department comes in. Part of a covert organization existing throughout the world with branches in different countries and under different names, the Department works with its subsidiaries under the common goal of policing, monitoring, and keeping the world safe for and from the supernatural.

In the U.S.A., the organization is labeled Department 99.

It is relatively easy to convince just about anyone that a supernatural occurrence is something commonplace (a task of Department 99.) Most people will return to their daily lives accepting the Department’s cover story. Humans, it turns out, are very good at deceiving themselves.

There are those, however who remain unconvinced - those who can see through the natural haze that surrounds humans when they are confronted by the supernatural. These people are referred to as Shadow Walkers.

In such cases, it is the Department’s responsibility to have the Shadow Walker brought into the fold for mental strength testing through a process called re-alignment. It is essential to conduct such testing before revealing the world’s truth in its entirety.

Unfortunately, realignment doesn’t often lead to a positive outcome and asylums are becoming overcrowded with those who are unable to cope with the complete truth as it is laid before them.

part 1

NOWHERE TO HIDE

Caleb Winters sat watching the small boy as he played in the yard. There was nothing openly unusual about the boy. His name was Finn, and he had just turned five. All in all, the child seemed to be a sturdy lad. In fact, all of the information Caleb had on this family had previously indicated a happy, loving home. The father, Jim, was a well-paid and respected landscaper and the mother, Kelly, ran a small beauty product business out of her home. The two twin girls, Jen and Jess, were ten years old and both doing extremely well in school…. but then there was the boy.

Up until a few weeks ago, the boy had been just a typical young boy. He rolled around in the dirt, rode his tricycle, and played with the family dog. Then, quite suddenly, something had changed.

It was around two weeks ago that Finn had started behaving very strangely. He began staring off into the distance completely ignoring his family when they spoke to him. Shortly after that, he began to speak to no one in particular—having entire conversations with the air. At first, Finn’s mother had chalked all of this up to an imaginary friend, but then things started happening that couldn’t be explained.

Finn’s mother walked into his bedroom one afternoon to find Finn stark naked and drawing strange symbols on the wall in a black marker. When she asked him why he was doing it, he replied that the dark man had told him to. When she asked him what the pictures were, Finn had replied that they weren’t pictures, but a doorway to hell.

Caleb sighed. It was always sad to see things unfold this way, yet he wasn’t surprised. Part of his job at this point was simply to observe as things unfolded. Yet, unfortunately for Caleb and for Finn, things seemed to be progressing in the usual way. While Finn’s parents were correct in taking him to see a psychologist (and later a psychiatrist), modern medicine had no cure or treatment for what truly ailed the boy. Caleb had been called in by Department 99, under the guise of a respite worker to keep an eye on things.

Generally speaking, respite workers were charged with the day-to-day care of emotionally disturbed children. They generally worked closely with families in order to alleviate some of the burden and exhaustion associated with parenting a severely emotionally disturbed child. Caleb looked much too large and muscular and somewhat too well-dressed for the position, but he got along with the family, and more importantly was able to keep a close eye on the boy.

Department 99 was very specific in the details of his assignment with this family. Caleb was only to intervene if the boy’s life was in imminent danger. Otherwise, he was simply there to observe and record his findings.

Caleb squinted as he watched Finn hop around in the sand at the small playground. Another smaller child had approached the boy, and all seemed to be progressing nicely. They seemed to be negotiating the best way to begin a game of hide-and-seek but could not agree on who should be the seeker first. A warm breeze blew through Finn’s hair and Caleb remarked to himself that he was a handsome little boy—a child that any parent would be proud to call his or her own.

Finn’s face reddened and he stomped his left foot into the sand. “I want to hide first!” He screamed while crossing his arms sternly across his small frame. The other child’s name was Wyatt and his mother called across from a nearby bench that the boys needed to make sure they both had a turn.

“If you both get a turn, it won’t really matter who goes first. Why don’t you two just play, and try to focus on having a good time. It’s such a nice day out here.” The mother’s comment had been innocent enough, but it triggered something in Finn. His eyes dashed over to the woman who was seated on the nearby bench and he began to whisper something in a low tone.

Finn reached down by his feet and slowly gathered a handful of sand. He approached the woman on the bench slowly, whispering in a soft voice all the while.

“Oh!” The woman’s face seemed to light up with compassionate understanding. “Wyatt, I don’t think your new friend speaks very good English. Why don’t you let him go first then and show your friend how nice people can be in America?” Caleb swallowed, afraid of what might come next. To the untrained eye, it might sound like Finn was speaking in Russian or perhaps some eastern European language, but it was in fact Aramaic.

Caleb had seen enough. He jumped up from the grassy knoll on which he was seated and started to make his way over to Finn—who was still approaching his new friend’s mother seated calmly on the bench. This could be really bad.

While Caleb didn’t know exactly what Finn had in mind, the chanting was never a good sign. Yet, he was too far away from the boy to intervene in enough time. Finn approached the woman with a smile and tugged slightly on her shirtsleeve. With his tiny finger he signaled for her to come closer. The woman obliged and leaned forward. Finn continued to chant.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t speak Russian,” the woman said.

Finn’s head cocked to one side and a twisted smile scrawled across his tiny face. He extended both of his arms towards the woman. In a fake Russian accent he said, “I love you. Hug me.”

The woman smiled and tousled his sandy blond hair with her polished fingernails. Then, she moved in to hug the child. Before Caleb could reach them, Finn had already wrapped his arms around the woman—in a feigned hug and bit virtually half of the woman’s face off, while refusing to relinquish the tight grip he had around her.

The woman screamed wildly and her son wet himself, while watching the terrible ordeal unfold. Urine trickled down the young boy’s shorts into the sand, while blood splattered this way and that as Finn bit deeper and deeper into the woman’s face.

When Caleb finally reached the boy, he tried to pry his tiny hands from around the woman who now wailed and screamed. Her face was a tangled bloody mass and Finn seemed to giggle, as his teeth drove further and further in—time and time again, ripping the flesh and muscle right out of the woman’s face. The woman flailed about and swatted at the boy in an attempt to remove him, but his grip was relentless.

Finally, with Caleb’s help, and the help of a random stranger, they were able to pry Finn off of the woman. He had bit her face down to the bone, and her left eye now lay flopping about on her cheek—gaping from the eye socket. Another bystander called 911, as Caleb stood holding Finn’s tiny bloodied hand in his own, telling the boy to be good, and promising him an ice-cream cone on the way home if he could calm himself down.

“Yay! Ice-cream!” Finn chanted as he danced around, covered in the woman’s blood.

A few hours later, Caleb found himself at a nearby hospital giving a statement. Apparently the boy had injured his lip while biting the woman’s face off and the Department of Children’s Welfare wanted Caleb’s take on what happened. Caleb wasn’t worried because his actual position with Department 99 afforded him complete immunity (and he had done nothing wrong), yet a social worker now sat in front of him berating him for his inability to stop Finn from assaulting the woman in the park. The social worker was threatening to charge Finn with neglect because the boy had injured himself while assaulting the woman. Then, of course, agents flooded the room.

The social worker was taken away in cuffs, and Caleb’s boss sat down in front of him, offering him a cup of steaming black coffee. “Rough day, huh buddy?” Caleb’s boss sighed. Caleb accepted the cup of black coffee and sipped it down slowly.

“So, how bad to do you think this one is?” Granger asked, kicking his feet up on the desk between them.

Caleb swallowed. “I’ve seen some pretty bad cases, but this one takes the cake.”

“Do you think the parents will be open to our intervention or do you think we just need to take the boy, using some kind of cover-story?” Granger asked.

Caleb took a sip of his coffee and thought for a moment. “The mother is desperate for help. I don’t think she’ll be a problem—and if she is, we’ll just erase her memory,” Granger tapped the desk and nodded in silent agreement. “Finn bit that woman pretty bad. Social Services wants answers. We’ll just wipe everyone’s memories, though—no worries, buddy. Good work today.”

A few hours later Granger, Caleb, and Finn’s parents were all sitting in the living room of the family’s small ranch-style home together. Granger had already introduced himself, and had already let them know that Caleb was actually employed by a department which investigated changes like the ones they had recently seen in Finn.

Finn’s mother wiped at the corner of her eye with a tissue and sniffled a bit, “I just don’t understand how this could have happened. He was always such a good boy.”

“We never had any problem with Finn until now,” the father chimed in. This part was always difficult.

“I’m going to have to explain a few things to you that are going to sound pretty crazy, but I need you to hear me out,” Granger said. The young couple nodded in unison. “The little boy upstairs playing with finger-paints, is not your son. I know he looks like your son—but he isn’t your son.”

It was as if all of the air had suddenly gone out of the room. The father looked to Caleb, then back at his wife. His face twisted in confusion. “What do you mean Finn is not my son? Jesus, did you have an affair Kelly?” He looked to his wife, working himself up to a rage. His wife, Kelly, looked as though she wished the ground could swallow her.

Granger placed his hands out defensively— “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that the child upstairs is not the Finn you know.” Now the father seemed even more grieved. Caleb always hated this part. Every now and then he was lucky enough to encounter an open-minded parent that would understand, but usually this was the point during which parents threw him out of their homes or got violent. Caleb took in a deep breath, dreading what might come next.

Slowly, he pulled his Department 99 badge from his pocket and started to try and explain. “I investigate supernatural occurrences related to children, and I was assigned to your case so that I could keep an eye on things, and find a way to help you.”

Both of Finn’s parents’ faces turned sheet-while. The mother looked as if she might pass out. Then suddenly, tears swelled up in her eyes again. “I told you! I told you that we needed to get out of this house as soon as possible,” she elbowed her husband hard.

“I believed you honey, I just thought that we could handle things ourselves. I had no idea that things would get this bad,” Finn’s father pleaded. In unison, Finn’s parents turned to Caleb and began to explain.

“When we moved into this house a few months ago, we knew that something wasn’t right. I can’t explain exactly how I knew, but on a soul-level I could just feel that there was something here that didn’t belong. All the kids started having nightmares, and we all got the sense that there was something watching us virtually all of the time.” Finn’s mother swallowed.

Finn’s father grumbled a bit and began his own story. “I’m ashamed to admit that I didn’t believe a word of it until one night I came downstairs to get a glass of water in the middle of the night and saw a dark figure staring at me from in front of the fireplace. It was so dark that it looked like a shadow. I blinked my eyes, thinking that it was perhaps some kind of trick of the light, but it wasn’t. I think it was a demon. I can’t really explain the feeling I got when that evil thing looked at me, but I stumbled backwards to try and get away from it and then it just walked right through the living room wall. Then I could hear all kinds of thumping overhead upstairs coming from Finn’s room. When I ran upstairs to check on him, he was sound asleep. Well, it looked like he was sound asleep. But then this weird grin just crept across his face. Then, he sat straight up in the bed and opened his eyes and his eyes were black—entirely black. He asked me if I was ready to do die, and I ran from the room and locked him in there.”

Caleb shuddered, imagining what the scene might have looked like. Demonic possessions weren’t generally uncommon, but when demons targeted a child of Finn’s age, it usually meant very bad news. Caleb swallowed hard. “Has anyone in the home ever dabbled in dark magic?” Caleb asked. Both parents shook their heads no. “Was Caleb ever baptized? Perhaps by a priest that was possessed?” Again, the parents looked puzzled and shook their heads no. “Do you have any idea why this might be happening to your son?” Caleb finally asked.

Finn’s mother shifted uncomfortably in her seat and smoothed her blonde hair down on the right side of her face. “Back before Finn’s grandfather died, we used to take Finn to visit him in a nursing home. There was an old man across the hall named Thomas who struck up a friendship with Finn, but none of us thought it was a problem because their relationship seemed innocent enough. Anyway, after Thomas died, Finn started reporting that he was seeing him walking around our house at night. At first, we just chalked it up to his imagination and grief, but then strange things started to happen. Tom delivered warnings through Finn. He told Finn that there was an electrical wiring problem in our house and that the house was going to catch fire and burn down. That night, a fire started in the basement and all of us had to jump out of the second story window. The whole thing had to be gutted and rebuilt.”

Granger grumbled a bit, growing impatient with the young couple. “You stayed at the same location after all that, why?”

Finn’s mother looked over to her husband. “Insurance paid for the repairs and we couldn’t afford to move to a new house.” She answered flatly.

Caleb pulled out a small pad of paper and began to scratch out a few notes to himself. Demons didn’t generally concern themselves with warning people and looking out for individuals’ safety. It sounded like Tom was actually the good-guy in the equation, and perhaps Tom’s ghost might be able to give them some information about the demon.

“How would you feel about calling in a few other professionals tonight?” Granger asked. Finn’s mother’s eyes widened. “I know a few people that I think can help us figure out exactly what’s going on.” Caleb added. Before the young couple could argue, Caleb was on the phone with various members of Department 99, setting up a séance and calling in a few ghost-hunters.

Granger received another call and had to run, but shook both of the parents’ hands before leaving. He assured them that they were in good hands under Caleb’s care.

The first person to arrive was Lillian Smithson. Caleb hadn’t expected Lillian to be assigned tonight. Caleb would be the first to admit that he harbored a crush on Lillian. Every time he saw her, he was struck slightly breathless. Tonight, he was caught a bit off-guard by the sheen of her bright red hair. Although short in stature, Lillian was quite brazen and direct. In her arms, she carried a heavy large black box. Although she struggled to manage the weight of the device, Caleb knew better than to ask Lillian if she’d like any help carrying the heavy container. Lillian liked to do things for herself, and seemed to take pride in her strength. Still, there was a sense of vulnerability beneath her exterior, and Caleb wondered much too often what it might be like to witness her letting down her guard.

All of that aside, Lillian was one of the best in the ghost hunting business. She knew how to track spirits and to get answers from them better than anyone else. She worked specifically with the dead—never with demons though—so it was unusual that she had been assigned to this detail.

Normally, Caleb would have called in his friend, Ocean—who was an experienced psychic. Unfortunately, Ocean was on maternity leave so Department 99 assigned a new psychic named Magda to their case. Magda was supposed to make initial contact with the spirit in order to determine what it wanted, while Lillian tracked the electrical signals using her box.

Caleb had never met nor worked with Magda before and when she pulled up to the exterior of the house, he felt embarrassed for his profession. Magda’s car was missing the front bumper and was covered in flowers painted in house-paint. When she stepped out of the car, she was wearing a multi-colored moo-moo and thick-framed glasses. Her frizzy hair stuck up on top of her head and looked like a bird’s nest. Bizarrely enough, Magda was carrying a small orange cat in her arms.

Caleb looked to Lillian for help. “The new woman’s here,” he said flatly.

“Oh good!” Lillian said. Then, she looked out the window at the woman waddling up the front steps and frowned. “Has our profession really come to this?” Lillian asked Caleb with a frustrated sigh, before turning back to her black box.

Caleb rushed to open the door for Magda. Finn’s parents were rushing around the kitchen gathering up paper plates for everyone. They’d ordered some pizza for the crew and seemed to be trying to keep their nerves under wraps. Their twin daughters had been sent to spend the night at the neighbor’s house. Finn was quietly playing in the corner with a red truck. He made the little metal truck fly up in the air with whizzing sounds, then brought it crashing back down to the floor with a loud thud and laughed.

Caleb extended a handshake to Magda, and was both surprised and a bit offended when she refused to touch him. Magda shook her head feverishly. “I need to keep my energy signatures clean, so it’s better if we don’t touch.” She said with a slight southern accent. When Magda stepped across the threshold to the family home, her heavy perfume invaded the entire space. As if reading his mind, Magda turned to Caleb and smiled. “I smudge myself with sage before a thing like this, plus I like to add a little frankincense and garlic to put my mind at ease.” Caleb nodded silently fearing that she was some kind of con artist.

Magda lowered the rims of her thick glasses and walked quietly over to Finn. The orange cat in her arms began to purr loudly. Finn seemed to ignore her, but as she grew nearer he froze in the spot but did not look up. “I know who you are,” Magda said in a voice scarcely above a whisper. “I’ve met you before and I’d recognize you anywhere,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

Finn looked up. His eyes were now as black as night. “Go home Magda,” he said in a deep scratchy horrible voice. Faraway from inside the kitchen, Finn’s mother Kelly had heard the voice escape from Finn’s mouth and had dropped a glass of ice water all over the floor. Lillian quickly flipped on the equipment within her black box and Caleb stood back to watch.

Finn’s head cocked eerily to the side. “I like to play with trucks,” he spoke in a man’s voice. This time the voice was deep and threatening. All of a sudden, all of the lights in the house flickered off.

Magda continued to converse with the demon inside of Finn. “What is your name?” She asked the demon.

“You say that we’ve met before—so why do you ask?” the demon responded.

“Why have you chosen to attack this child and his family?” Magda asked.

The demon responded with a low and terrible cackle…then he paused, “Because it’s fun,” he said. Suddenly the lights flickered back on. When Caleb’s eyes readjusted to the light he could see that Magda was now holding a bottle of holy water in her hand. She must have pulled it out while they were all in the dark. Finn’s eyes changed back to an innocent blue shade when he saw the bottle of holy water, and his lip turned upward and began to quiver. “Mommy! She’s gonna hurt me!” Finn cried.

Finn’s mother Kelly rushed into the room and Caleb grabbed her by the arm firmly in order to stop her from approaching the child.  “The demon knows that it’s cornered now and it might try and jump into someone else’s body. You can’t make physical contact with him until this is over.” Kelly slowly nodded her head.

Magda silently began to unscrew the lid of the holy water bottle. Now Finn appeared to almost be shaking from fear. “I’m only going to ask you one more time, demon. What is your name?” Magda demanded in a powerful voice. The orange cat was now purring at her feet, rubbing itself up against her legs. Caleb was impressed with Magda now. Her skills seemed to be quite advanced. When the demon hesitated before answering, Magda flicked a few drops of holy water in Finn’s direction. When the drops of water made contact with his skin, he howled at the top of his lungs in agony. Both of his parents winced. The demon then began to speak rapidly in Aramaic. Caleb couldn’t quite make out the name, but from the look on Magda’s face he understood that this was a serious case and could tell that Magda understood what was being said.

Then, something unexpected happened. A high-pitched voice that sounded almost like a fairy forced its way through Finn’s body and began to giggle uncontrollably. Finns body was rolling around on the floor in the throes of an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

“Who are you?” Magda asked, seeming a bit annoyed.

“Who are you, sassafras cat-woman who secretly drinks milk one month past its expiration date?” Magda wasn’t amused, yet the voice carried on. “I saw you touching yourself in the shower yesterday. Who was it that you were thinking of? Oh yes, Patrick Swayze.” Now the high-pitched voice was rolling with laughter as it harassed her. Then, Magda pulled out a relic from St. John of the Cross. Again, the demon inside Finn’s body screamed. He boy’s face twisted upwards into a terrible frown and he reared back.

Just then, there was a slight knock at the door. A second group of ghost-hunters had arrived. They were fresh out of Department 99’s training program and looked like kids themselves. There was a short guy with thick-framed glasses, which were somewhat like Magda’s, a young woman from the Philippines, and a hefty looking guy with a brown beard, who introduced himself as Ted. Ted claimed that he’d always been interested in the paranormal, and shook Caleb’s hand after acting as though he were meeting some kind of celebrity. Caleb could see Lillian roll her eyes behind her box and he chuckled to himself.

Next the group decided to hook Finn up to a small machine. So, together everyone accompanied Finn upstairs to his bedroom, where he stripped down to his underwear and lay back on the bed. Ted tenderly began to place electrodes all over the boy’s head and boy. “Don’t get too close to him, Caleb warned,” and yet Ted seemed to act as if he knew better. “I was the oldest of nine boys, I think I can handle this little guy,” Ted turned his face back to look at Caleb and smiled. When he did this, Finn silently sat up on the bed and smiled also. When Ted turned back around to face the boy, Finn’s face was locked in some kind of terrible grimace. His body was now stiff and he seemed unable to move.

“Just continue to place the electrodes, but don’t make any more conversation with him,” Magda demanded cautiously.

Ted sneered and leaned down to whisper something funny into the boy’s ear—hoping to make Finn laugh. “I guess that cat lady thinks she knows better than us boys,” Ted said with a chuckle. What happened next, occurred so quickly that Caleb was in doubt that it was even occurring. Before anyone had a chance to react, Finn had leaned forward, bit Ted’s nose entirely off down to the bone, and spat it across the room. Ted grasped at the hole in his face, moaning and shrieking—fumbling around the dark room, searching for his detached nostrils. Finn giggled and bounced on the bed as though nothing had happened. He looked absolutely demonic with the massive blood splatter dripping down his chin. His tiny pink tongue reached down to lick some of the blood off. Finn’s mother Kelly buried her face in her husband’s chest and began to sob.

While the nice Filipino woman helped Ted find his nose (and escorted him out of the room so that he could go to the hospital), Lillian took charge of the situation. “Caleb and I are in charge here, so if anyone else would like to defy a direct order and get their faces bitten off as well, let us know so that we can have you court-martialed by Department 99 right now.” She spoke firmly, as the Filipino woman made her way back into the room. Lillian took over the task of attaching the rest of the electrodes to Finn’s body, and then they turned all of the lights out.

Lillian’s black box started to make a slight beeping sound, and a blue light appeared in the center of the box. “Tom, is that you?” Lillian asked in a sweet voice. At first there was no response, but then gradually everyone in the room could hear heavy breathing emanating from the speakers on the box.

“Tom, is that you?” Lillian repeated—this time with a little more force. Magda raised her palm up into the air to signal that Lillian should stop. Then Magda shook her head no, while the orange cat slowly sauntered over to Finn’s bedside.

“I know what you are,” Magda spoke. The speakers in the black box crackled. “Why have you attached yourself to this child?” Magda asked. Again, she raised her bottle of holy water and clutched it to her chest. Then a strange sound started to come from the black box, which sounded almost like humming. The heavy breathing faded away and was replaced by the voice of an older gentleman.

“You need to listen to what I’m about to say. You’ve got to get Cain away from Finn. He’s planning some pretty nasty things,” the older man’s voice said.

Tears swelled in Jim’s eyes. “Dad is that you? Dad?” Again, Magda raised her hand to signal that Jim should not communicate directly with the spirit.

“You’re in grave danger, son.” The voice continued, “You’ve got to find a way to get Cain away from the boy,” then the voice transmitting through the box changed again. Someone started to sing, “Oh I wish I was in the land of cotton…”

Lillian quickly switched the box onto the off position. “Let’s leave the family up here for a minute and have a quick conference in the living room.” All of the Department 99 employees quickly filed downstairs.

Caleb swallowed as he descended the dark steps. This was a complicated case, and he felt uneasy and unsure if they were going to be able to save Finn. When they reached the living room, Caleb coughed for a brief moment and quickly offered his opinion. “I don’t think that was really Finn’s grandfather who came through just now,” Caleb stated plainly.

Lillian nodded in agreement, “That was some kind of demon pretending to be the grandfather.” Everyone paused, taking in the seriousness of the case.

“But why would a demon do that?” The short guy in the thick-framed glasses asked—it was the first time he’d spoken. No one had even bothered to ask his name, but he seemed to shake. His eyes darted from face to face, and he appeared to be sweating heavily.

Magda swallowed, “I don’t like any of this. I think we need to call in a priest and a second psychic.”

“A priest?” Caleb spat. “What do you think a priest is going to do? We’re the end of the line Magda,” Caleb continued.

Caleb placed a heavy hand on the short man’s shoulder to try and steady the young gentleman, “Demons are tricksters. They’ll say just about anything to try and divide people up so that they’re easier to conquer; don’t be scared. They feed off of fear.” The short man nodded rapidly, and pushed his thick glasses back up on his nose.

Magda swallowed, “This doesn’t sit right with me, Caleb. Something is very wrong. I can feel energy signatures and the voice that just warned us about Cain, didn’t feel demonic to me.” Magda was pleading now.

“How long have you been at this with Department 99?” Caleb asked her, growing frustrated.

“I’ve been with the department less than a week, but I’ve been dabbling in the occult for a long time, and I’m telling you…” Magda pleaded.

Caleb cut her off, “Let us do our job and stick to your cats and your painted car. I’ll be writing up a report about you after this, and hopefully you’ll be dismissed shortly.” He spat nastily. Magda looked down, defeated.

Quickly, the group decided to re-enter the room and to try and make contact with the voice of Finn’s grandfather again.

When they were back up in the room, Finn’s mother Kelly had lit a few candles. The candles gave the child’s room an eerie glow, and as Finn lay still on the bed, Caleb got the sense that he was attending a wake. Caleb blinked his eyes rapidly and tried to push the thought from his mind. Again, Magda called out to the spirit while Lillian monitored the black box.

“Are you still there?” Magda asked. There was a long moment of silence, followed by more cackling. The voice had a different quality this time. Then again, the cruelty seemed to wash out of the voice and it sounded almost human.

“I’m telling you son, you’ve got to get Cain away from the boy NOW.” Suddenly, all of the candles in the room went out. A voice to Caleb’s right began to howl, and then the lights flickered back on. The man with the thick glasses was on top of Finn, punching at the boy’s face, screaming obscenities. Caleb jumped into action and immediately tried to pull the man off of the boy. Suddenly, everything made sense. The short man with the thick-framed glasses was Cain.

Cain pulled out a long dagger from within his coat and cut his own hand, and then started to cut the boy’s forehead. The entire time, both Cain and the boy were chanting in Aramaic.

Caleb lunged onto Cain’s shoulders, and was thrown back by some horrible force. He flew across the room and hit the opposite wall with a loud smack, and then clattered to the floor, landing hard on his right arm. Next, Lillian sprang into action, attempting to throw her body onto Cain in order to stop him from attacking the young boy. Her fate was similar to that of Caleb, except she was flung up to the ceiling and seemed to stick there.

Finn’s parents grasped at each other screaming in terror. The woman from the Philippines —whose name was Daisy, buried her head in her knees and began to rock back and forth, while praying. Only Magda had the sense to uncap her bottle of holy water and throw it in Cain’s direction. When the water hit them, both Cain and Finn screamed in low terrible guttural voices. Caleb seized the opportunity and lunged yet again for Cain. This time he was weakened by the holy water and Caleb’s bear strength overcame Cain’s demonic strength. Cain fell to the ground and Caleb quickly cuffed his hands behind his back. Then, Caleb pulled a device out of his pocket and zapped Cain in the back of the head, rendering him unconscious.

At that moment, Lillian fell from the ceiling, and then got up and dusted her pants off as if nothing had happened. Caleb couldn’t help but admire her strength. Nothing seemed to deter Lillian Smithson. Her green eyes looked intense and angry.

Caleb reached down to the radio at his waist and called in back-up. Within ten minutes, a Department 99 paddy wagon had pulled away with Cain stuffed into the back. “I knew something was off about that guy,” Caleb said softly to himself as he watched the ambulance peel away.

The group returned to the room, and again Lillian tried to take the lead. “Tom? Are you there, Tom?” Lillian asked.

Magda shook her head. “Who are you?” Magda asked.

“I’m not Tom,” a tiny but evil-sounding voice crackled over the speakers. The demon seemed to be unwilling to speak with Lillian.

Magda stepped in, “What is your name?” Magda asked the demon. “Come closer, and I will tell you, cat woman,” the voice said. The orange cat ran across the room, jumped onto Finn’s chest, and sat there.

Although the voice came out of the black box, Magda knew it wanted her to step closer to Finn. What choice did she have? Without the demon’s name, they would not be able to exorcise it. Magda took a deep breath and stepped closer. “Come closer,” the voice crackled again through the black box speakers. Now, Magda was standing directly over Finn. “Let me whisper my name into your ear,” the voice said. Caleb shook his head no, but Magda bent down over the boy anyway—feeling a sense of terrible desperation to save the boy and her beloved orange cat. Just as soon as she leaned down, Finn’s hands snatched up and snapped Magda’s neck—killing her instantly. Her eyes rolled back into her head, and her limp dead body slumped to the floor with a loud and terrible thud.

Again, everyone quickly filed out of the room (Finn’s parents included), leaving Finn locked inside with the orange cat. Daisy was visibly shaking and so Caleb told her to go home and get some rest. Together Caleb and Lillian walked out into the cool night air, trying to gain a bit of perspective. Lillian was a smart woman and it didn’t take her long to come up with a theory and a plan.

“There’s a reason that demon won’t talk to me,” she said—staring off into the vast darkness.

“What are you thinking?” Caleb asked calmly.

“It’s threatened by me for some reason. I have to figure out what that reason is, so that I can exploit it.” Lillian continued.

Caleb nodded. “There’s a small occult library down on Kenneth Street. Let’s go.” Lillian nodded her agreement as she hopped into Caleb’s car.

As they pulled up to the occult library, Caleb couldn’t help by admire Lillian’s beautiful curved body. The gentle rise and fall of her breath made him notice the curves of her rounded breasts and slight waist. Her legs were shapely and crossed in his direction at the knee. Caleb’s inner bear was screaming at him to reach down and touch her kneecaps, but he refrained. Keep your mind on the task at hand, he chastised his bear.

When they stepped into the occult library, a woman dressed entirely in black met them at the counter. Everything in the facility was free to Department 99 and both he and Lillian flashed their badges. The woman at the information desk nodded, immediately understanding that there was a serious matter at hand. Lillian began to explain the situation and the librarian started to ask some questions about Lillian’s ancestry. Lillian was somewhat confused by the line of questioning, but answered as best as she could. Most of her descendants were from Ireland and had immigrated to the United States during the Potato famine. This seemed to trigger something for the librarian and she rushed off into the maze of shelves in order to find what she was looking for with Caleb and Lillian close on her heels. After searching for a few minutes, she pulled a large and dusty book off the shelf and slammed it down onto a nearby counter. The librarian thumbed through a few pages and finally found what she was looking for.

“If I had to guess, I would probably say that you are some kind of distant relation to this man,” she said to Lillian. The name written at the top of the page read Aengus Smithson, which made Lillian shudder.

“We have the same last name,” she offered to the librarian who seemed to smile at this confirmation of her suspicions.

“According to the history books that I have, Aengus managed to trick the devil during a wager many years ago. Long story short, his descendants are off-limits and any demon that communicates with anyone in the Smithson clan will be thrown into a lake of fire to burn for all eternity,” the librarian smiled at the end, satisfied with herself for solving the mystery.

Caleb thanked her and started to thumb through the book himself. The pact seemed ironclad. If a demon so much as spoke to Lillian Smithson, it would be destroyed immediately. So of course, they knew that they needed to trick the demon into communicating with her. Caleb had an idea—what if they used some kind of shifter serum in order to try and change her physical appearance? But then, demons didn’t really operate based off of sight. This was going to be a tough situation.

Lillian walked back over to the librarian. “Is there any way for me to get this demon to talk to me so that we can destroy it? It’s terrorizing a young innocent boy.”

The librarian thought for a minute. “Demons operate on an entirely different plane, and they generally play by their own rules…but if you could somehow convince the demon that you were dead, and then maybe get it to curse your name—that might be enough to get the job done.” Caleb and Lillian quickly thanked the librarian and rushed back out into the evening night air. While they only had limited information, they were at least able to surmise that the creature who had made contact with Lillian was not of the demonic, which meant it might be willing to help. Plain old ghosts were generally more reasonable then most people gave them credit for.

“Let’s go back to my house,” Lillian suggested as Caleb drove silently. Moments later, they pulled up to a small townhouse surrounded by beautiful shrubs. Lillian jumped out of the car and Caleb followed quietly. He couldn’t believe he was about to see the inside of Lillian’s home. He admitted to himself that he’d always wanted to know her better, but had never really had the nerve or the time to make a move. Yet, he’d always wanted to come home with her—and possibly be invited up into her bedroom.

A few moments later, Caleb found himself in Lillian’s kitchen, where she rushed around placing candles on the table. The scene would have been almost romantic were she not preparing to make contact with a dead person.

“I’m going to try and contact Finn’s grandfather again,” she said. “He gave us some good information before, and I want to see if he’ll help a little more.” Caleb watched her closely as she fiddled about, lighting candles, and placing them within a chalk circle that she drew directly on top of her kitchen table.

Caleb was completely distracted by Lillian. He couldn’t help it. She looked so beautiful in the dim light of the kitchen that Caleb found himself scarcely able to breath. Again, his eyes were drawn back to her beautiful and piercing blue eyes and to the roundness of her bottom. He wanted to pull her close, to smell her hair, to push himself up against her, and to take her upstairs into the bedroom…yet he remained silent and watched her work. He wasn’t normally so quiet, but Lillian seemed to bring out this part of him. He liked to observe her.

When she finished moving around the kitchen, she sat down across from Caleb and took his hands in hers. For Caleb, it felt almost as if an electrical jolt shot through his body the moment they touched. Instinctively, he wanted to reach across the table and ravish her. He wondered if she could tell. If she knew that he was attracted to her, she’d never given him any hints or encouragement.

Quietly, Lillian started to chant. First she invoked her ancestors’ protection, and then she called on Finn’s grandfather to speak to her again. This time, a disembodied voice grumbled overhead.

“Took you guys a while to figure out who Cain was. Finn almost got killed,” the voice complained.

“I’m really sorry about that sir, Lillian responded. Do you know anything about the demon that is stalking Finn?” Lillian pressed.

“Lady, I died of a heart attack in a nursing home after working in a car parts factory for over twenty years. When I died, I expected that I’d be going to heaven—I don’t even know what this place is called, let alone how to describe to you the thing that has attached itself to my grandson, but I’ll help you in any way I can.”

“What does it look like from your dimension?” Lillian asked.

“It’s very bright. It seems to absorb light, and then changes into a darkness that is darker than even the darkest night. When it gets close to Finn it looks almost like water—it changes from a human-like shape into something that resembles black water.” Finn’s grandfather explained.

“Did you know anything about your neighbor in the nursing home that also died, Tom? Is Tom there with you?” Lillian asked.

“No,” the grandfather responded matter-of-factly. “Tom isn’t here. There is a guy named Chachi though. I think he used to be a mob boss or something. The guy has some serious issues.” Lillian quickly thanked Finn’s grandfather and said a few words to close the invisible portal. She blew out the candles in front of her.

Caleb swallowed. “I’m going to guess that the demon which has attached itself to Finn took on the physical likeness of Tom for a while in order to trick the boy into trusting it. Since his grandfather said that the demon is very bright and looks like light, I’d say we’re dealing with one of Satan’s fallen—so he must be a pretty bad guy.” Lillian nodded in agreement, and then burst suddenly into tears. Caleb was shocked. He had never seen Lillian cry and didn’t know quite how to react.

“I’m sorry,” Lillian spoke—wiping the tears away from her cheeks and struggling to regain her composure. “I just feel bad for Magda. I judged her so harshly for the way she looked, and no one even said anything after she died—not even a kind word. I keep picturing Finn snapping her neck, and then my mind goes back to the way she just slumped down onto the floor dead… and it’s just so horrible.” Lillian struggled to push her tears back again, but somehow emotion overtook her. Caleb didn’t know what to do and so he tenderly reached his hand out across the table and placed it firmly on top of hers.

Oddly enough, the small gesture seemed to calm her. Then, Caleb looked down and realized that one of the candles was still lit—which meant the portal was still open. All of a sudden, the table flipped over and broke in two. Lillian was pushed backwards in her chair. And an invisible force seemed to charge the room. The knives on Lillian’s counter jumped up into the air, their sharp points glimmering in the dark room.

“You stay the hell away from my brother!” A new voice exclaimed as a knife shot across the room and embedded itself in a wall only inches away from Caleb’s head.

A second knife raised itself up into the air and Caleb lunged onto it and wrestled it down to the ground. As he did so, another knife rose up and stabbed him in the back. Lillian was screaming at the top of her lungs as an invisible force seemed to repeatedly slap her across the face. Caleb knew he had to get to Lillian, and so with the knife still sticking out of his back, he fought his way over to her side of the room, shielding her body with his own. Knives and forks continued to levitate up into the air, and each one of them flew across the room and embedded themselves into Caleb’s body. Yet, he would not be deterred. He used his body to shield Lillian until they could make their way out of the house.

Finally, the pair found themselves locked safely in Caleb’s car—both struggling to catch their breath. The situation was out of hand and Caleb was bleeding from the many puncture wounds in his body.

Caleb’s body was covered in blood. There were at least twelve forks sticking out of his arms and legs and at least two or three knives. Lillian began to work at pulling them out, as Caleb winced.

“That voice had an accent I knew all too well. That new ghost is some kind of mobster,” Lillian stated plainly. “We need to go down to 5th street and find out some more about the guy that called himself Chachi.”

When they arrived on 5th street, Caleb’s shifter healing had already sealed up the smaller, shallower wounds but he was a bloody mess. Lillian directed them to a small Italian restaurant on the corner, and she walked in with Caleb limping closely behind her. A few men looked up from behind the counter, and glanced at Caleb’s bloody face suspiciously.

“Who the hell are you?” One of the men asked.

“I was sent here to ask about Chachi,” Lillian answered—not skipping a beat. The second man with black hair slowly pulled a handgun out from beneath the counter and pointed it directly at her head. “You better explain yourself real fast,” he said.

part 2

CHACHI’S GHOST

The man behind the counter cocked the metal gun, which was pointed at Lillian’s head. She could hear Caleb take in a deep breath. Her heart pounded in her chest. She wanted to reach for Caleb’s hand—to reassure herself that he was standing there beside her. Instead, she stood as still as a statue—afraid to move or even breathe too loudly. Her Department training included reading people from their expressions and body language. She could tell by this man’s facial expressions that he wasn’t the type to hesitate. If he felt threatened, he would kill her without faltering. Lillian squinted for a moment, preparing to die. She waited for the sound of the gun’s blast, yet it did not come.

“What do you want to know about Chachi?” The other guy behind the counter asked. Lillian looked over to Caleb for help, and then opted for honesty, “I want to know why he’s haunting me.” At this, both men burst into laughter, and the gun pointed at her face was lowered. Caleb sighed. For a moment he was sure that they were both dead. The laughter put both of them at ease for a moment. Caleb eyed Lillian admiring her steely personality. She was incredibly strong.

The man on the right went back to his business of assembling sandwiches, slapping cheese onto the bread as if he was playing cards. The man who had raised the gun to her head apologized. “It ain’t my thing to pull a gun on a broad, but this Chachi shit has me a little bit on edge.” The man shrugged and then leaned on the counter. It was a meager apology, but she appreciated that he had at least made an effort. “You wanna know about Chachi, you need to go and talk to Big Mike.”

Caleb cleared his throat, “Where can we find Big Mike?”

The guy on the right smoothed down his dark black hair and swallowed hard— “Make a right at Salernos Pizzeria, and then keep going down to the Pussycat night club. He’s always hanging out there at the bar—but don’t tell him I sent ya. You might get a little more than you bargained for, messing around with this Chachi foolishness.” The man snorted. “If I was you lady, I’d leave it alone and I’d walk away—go have a few kids, settle down. What you want to go chasing ghosts for?” Lillian nodded her head in appreciation, but ignored his question.

As the two exited the little shop, Caleb’s hand brushed against Lillian’s. Just the feel of his hand sent chills zipping up and down her body. For a moment, she wondered what it might feel like if he were to grab her fingers, and take her palm in his own muscular fist. Then, she pushed the fantasy out of her mind. Caleb was too principled and focused for romance—especially romance with her. Anyway, it seemed that his life revolved entirely around Department 99, as did hers. There was no time for romance. Being a part of Department 99, was like being in the military—except the fact that virtually none of the members had families or took any sort of leave.

When they arrived at the Pussycat nightclub, it was not at all what they had expected. Lillian had never seen anything like it. It was filled with all sorts of shady characters. Not the usual kind of shifty characters that hung out in back alleys, but high-level mobsters who seemed to have a keen interest in the occult.

There were pentagrams spray-painted on each table, candles were lit, and a few of the mobsters seemed to be chanting. Far off to the right, Lillian could see a woman reading tarot cards for a pair of men with slicked down black hair.

Lillian tugged at Caleb’s sleeve gesturing him to bend his 6’4” frame down level with her 5’2” self. “Where should we even start?” Lillian whispered to Caleb, feeling overwhelmed. The way she whispered into his ear, sent chills down his spine. She had been so close to his face that he could actually feel her hot breath coming in short bursts as she spoke. The air from Lillian’s speech tickled his face, and his eyes were riveted to her full and pouty pink lips. Yet, outwardly, Caleb remained like a stone. He stood full height and scanned the room, taking note of all the strange looking mobster types engaged in all sorts of rituals. It was a strange looking place. In the center of the club a few scantily clad women danced with each other around a pole. They looked strung out and sad—in fact, they looked like prisoners.

Caleb cocked his head back for a moment and sniffed the air. Although he rarely liked discussing the fact that he was a bear shifter, the heightened senses, which came along with being a shifter, came in handy sometimes. In a flash, Caleb’s nose was flooded with all kinds of alien and strange smells. Yet, through the symphony of scents, he was able to distinguish something that was a bit off--- something that shouldn’t have been there. Caleb smelled a corpse.

The rotten dead smell was emanating from a blond man who sat over at a corner table completing a ritual alone. The scent was all over the blonde man’s hands and clothes. A regular human nose wouldn’t have been able to pick up on it, but for Caleb the smell was unmistakable. Caleb’s gut told him that this man would probably know something about Chachi. He could smell rage and someone else’s fear all over the man who seemed to have recently committed a murder.

Caleb gently pushed Lillian behind him and signaled to her to follow. Together they cautiously approached the table where the blonde man sat casting his spells. There were a few small, scattered bones on the table, a slab of butter, and a few pennies. In the middle there was a photo of an elderly-looking man that Caleb didn’t recognize. Caleb couldn’t tell if the blonde man was trying to help the man in the photo, or to bring him harm, but from the smell of the blonde stranger—he was probably up to no good. He didn’t look like the type that had good intentions, or any empathy at all. He seemed cold-blooded and sociopathic.

When they arrived at the table, they did not interrupt but simply stood silently by the table’s edge. The man’s hands moved in circles over a candle, while he whispered in something that sounded like Latin. He then pulled out a small pouch of sand and doused the candle with it. The flame immediately sparkled green and then went out.

“What do you want?” The man said without looking up.

“We were hoping you could help us with a few things,” Caleb stated—purposefully remaining vague.

“If you want someone killed, I suggest you buy a gun. It isn’t good to cast a spell for that,” the man stated softly. Lillian was a bit taken back by his cavalier attitude towards murder. She looked down and noticed a few drops of red blood on the man’s tennis shoe. She wanted to reach out for Caleb in that moment, but knew she would look girlish and immature, grabbing for his hand, so instead she shifted her body a little bit so that their shoulders were touching. Caleb did not move away from her touch.

Caleb pulled a chair out from a nearby table, pushed it up close to the man, and sat down. Lillian felt a little offended that he hadn’t gotten her a seat, but perhaps he had a good reason.  “I’m not going to bullshit you,” Caleb said gruffly to the man. “I don’t give a shit about murder or whatever else you’ve done, but I’ve got a little problem that I need to take care of. I need you to tell me about Chachi.” When Caleb said the name Chachi, the man’s eyes grew wide. He jumped backwards, knocking over his unlit candle—his face twisted into a mixture of both anger and genuine terror. Then, he shouted something in a foreign language that neither Caleb nor Lillian recognized.

All the heads in the room turned in Caleb and Lillian’s direction. “These two just asked me to cast a forbidden spell, “the blonde man announced to the room- lying through his teeth. “They threatened me and said that if I didn’t comply they would call the Gollum.” Instantly, individuals all around them clattered to their feet and closed in around Lillian and Caleb.

“What the hell is a Gollum?” Lillian whispered to Caleb. Again he felt the warm rush of her breath against his cheek.

“I don’t know, but guessing by their reaction, it’s not good.” Lillian stood close to Caleb, pressed against him as the dark shadowy figures in the room drew nearer. She couldn’t make out exactly how many people were in the room, but she was sure that they were vastly outnumbered.

“Wait…wait..wait..” Lillian placed her hands out defensively as the circle of individuals closed in on them, becoming smaller and smaller. “We’re not here to do anyone any harm, we just have a few questions, really… I grew up in a small town and I was just always curious. I was hoping you guys could tell me what exactly a ghost is?”

Someone in the crowd burst out into mean laughter. “Good try, lady,” someone snorted in a mean voice, yet Lillian continued to talk. Caleb knew exactly what Lillian was doing. She was trying to buy them some time.

“Smoke em!” An angry voice called out, trying to incite the crowd. A man jumped forward and grabbed Lillian around the wrist. Lillian shrieked and tried to pull away, but the man’s grip was like steel.

Before Caleb even knew what was happening, his bear took over. Lillian needed his protection and he was ready to defend her at all costs. Caleb lunged forward and grabbed the man that had Lillian’s arm. He held the man up by the neck, and his legs dangled and kicked around in the air, searching for an invisible foothold. A few members of the crowd drew back. Then Caleb-- fired up as a bull (or a bear)-threw the man across the room where he hit a faraway wall, and slid to the floor with a loud violent thump.

“Would anyone else like some?” Caleb asked the crowd. Much to Lillian’s surprise, a handful of the men didn’t seem the least bit deterred. In fact, they almost seemed to enjoy the excitement of it all, and eagerly wanted a piece of the action.

A tall man stepped forward, donning some kind of club in his hand. The club reminded Lillian of the old nightsticks that police officers used to patrol with. The man slapped the club against his other bare hand and smiled stupidly. Then, without warning he lunged toward Caleb—attempting to bring the club down on his head. Caleb caught the club in mid-air and twisted the man’s arm back hard, until Lillian heard a loud cracking sound. She then grabbed a beer bottle from a nearby table and smashed it over the man’s head for good measure. By the end of it, the tall man lay on the floor bawling like a baby, with one broken arm and a cracked skull.

Now, two men dressed in leather stepped forward. Lillian’s psychic abilities clearly told her that both were possessed by a demon. Lillian looked at Caleb and shook her head no—as if trying to communicate that fighting with them would be a bad idea. Caleb ignored her warning and sprang into action. He kicked the first man square in the stomach, and with a crackling and popping sound, in seconds he transformed into his bear while still in mid-air. There were a few loud gasps from the crowd. Through her job with the Department, Lillian had been around plenty of shifters, but even she was impressed by the speed grace of his transformation—shifting in mid-air was magnificent. Caleb hit the ground with a large heavy thump— a beautiful bear, yet a particularly vicious predator. Caleb raised his gigantic claws into the air and roared. His roar was so fierce that it shook the rafters of the building and sent shivers down Lillian’s spine. Then, he bore his razor sharp teeth. Drool dripped from the corner of Caleb’s mouth and a growl emanated from his chest. He was scanning the room, ready to kill. Another roar, and the sound moved through Lillian’s body fiercely. In a strange way she found herself somewhat turned on by this display of his strength—yet this was not the time to marvel at her impressive comrade. They were in serious trouble.

For a split second, Caleb caught Lillian’s glance. “Follow behind me,” his bear-eyes seemed to convey. Before Lillian knew what was happening Caleb was swiping at people in the crowd, ripping at limbs, and baring his teeth to anyone who approached. Lillian kept close behind him, squinting and shielding her eyes from some of the carnage and blood splatter. After a few minutes, most of the people lay on the floor groaning and clutching at themselves, while Caleb and Lillian ran for the door.

Instead of opening the door like a human, Caleb simply lunged through the glass, shattering it in one swift movement. Again, he shifted mid-air, back into his human form as they ran towards their car in the parking lot. Even amid all of the chaos, Lillian couldn’t help but smile as she saw Caleb’s bare butt running in front of her. His back was sleek and muscular, and his muscles rippled as he moved. When they reached the car, both of them flung the doors wide open and jumped inside.

They sat in the car for a moment attempting to catch their breath. Lillian’s heart fluttered within her chest, as she caught Caleb’s glance. He was such a striking man. The excitement of it all had made Caleb feel invigorated and particularly brave and much to Lillian’s surprise, he reached across the car and pulled her close. After pausing for one brief moment he pressed his lips to her own and kissed her deeply. Lillian parted her lips, accepting his tongue and taking it inside of her mouth. He tasted sweet, but there was also a hint of blood in his kiss. As he kissed her, the rest of the world melted away and she felt a tingle emanating from the pit of her stomach. Her body instinctively wanted more of him. She felt a trickling warmth between her legs as her heart fluttered within her chest. Both her body and heart seemed to be opening to him. She wanted more of his touch. She couldn’t help herself.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, Lillian noticed a shadow. A man now stood before them, in front of the vehicle pointing a gun at the car. Before she could even cry out, the man had emptied a handful of bullets into the car. Lillian covered her head and screamed as the bullets flew all around them. Caleb seemed unafraid. Instead of hiding, he started the car, and pressed the accelerator down hard slamming the hood of the car into the body of the man who’d shot at them. Lillian could hear a series of loud thumps as the man’s body flew up and over the hood. He then hit the pavement with a loud thud as they peeled off, leaving him for dead. Lillian glanced in the side mirror, and could see the crumpled form of a man lying in the parking lot like an abandoned rag-doll.

Caleb pressed the accelerator down hard, but his driving skills seemed to suddenly become a bit erratic. He was weaving all over the road. Lillian looked down and noticed a massive amount of blood flowing from Caleb’s leg. Without thinking, she pulled off her shirt and pressed it hard against the wound while Caleb winced. Caleb smiled slightly at the sight of her beautiful full round breasts bound up in her red bra. She looked incredible, was it the blood loss or the sight of her that made him feel weak.

“Pull over and let me drive, Caleb. You’re losing too much blood!” Lillian yelled.

“We have to keep going. They’re probably following us.” Caleb barked back.

“Pull over!’ Lillian insisted again. Caleb turned towards her in order to answer, and in that split second, the car careened off of the road and ran into a ditch where it flipped over, cartwheeling down the side of a steep hill.

Everything happened so fast that Lillian wasn’t even totally sure of what had occurred. All she knew was that she was now hanging upside down in the car, held in by her seatbelt. Caleb was on the floor, laying in a mass of broken glass, groaning. He seemed to be going in and out of consciousness.

“Damn you Caleb, I told you to let me drive!” Lillian yelled down to him. Caleb barely stirred, which cued her in to the fact that he was going in and out of awareness from blood loss. Lillian knew shifter healing was incredibly quick compared to that of humans, but that wasn’t to say that they couldn’t be gravely injured and killed. She also knew that for him to be in the state he was in now, Caleb was hurt very badly.  Lillian unbuckled her seatbelt and plummeted to the ground, landing on her hand. She crawled over to Caleb and felt for a pulse. It was weak, but it was there nonetheless—he was alive. For a brief moment, Lillian felt a small surge of relief. She searched the car for Caleb’s Department 99 radio to call for help.

She found the radio among a heap of metal and glass. “Agent down, approximately 2 miles west of Eudora, near the 10. Requesting immediate medical evac.”  The radio crackled and Lillian repeated herself. No one responded. This time, Lillian held down the button on the side of the radio and virtually screamed into it.

After a few moments, a Department 99 dispatcher responded. “Help is on the way, agent. Hold tight.”

Lillian dropped the radio and lay back for a moment. She then made her way back over to Caleb, crawling over broken glass. Again she reached up to Caleb’s neck to feel for a pulse. It was weak, there wasn’t much time. Lillian noticed a warm fluid dripping down into her hair and onto the side of her face. The fluid was falling onto Caleb too, soaking his beautiful mane of hair. The strong smell of gasoline flooded the inside of the cabin. Even though Caleb’s body technically lay on the ground, he was enclosed by metal. Lillian crawled over to the passenger side door and tried to pry it open—it was mangled shut. Then, another harsh smell flooded the cabin. It was the smell of an electrical fire. Lillian was hit with the realization that if she couldn’t find a way out very quickly, they would burn alive.

She kicked at the glass of the mangled door, trying to shatter it with the weight of her legs. The glass was sturdy and wouldn’t even budge, but then a tiny crack appeared on the right hand side. Lillian kicked again—another crack. Then, Lillian screamed and kicked three more times in rapid succession. Finally, the window shattered. She crawled back over to Caleb and tried in vain to wake him.

“Caleb, we have to get out of here. Caleb, wake up!” Lillian shook him and he simply bobbed limply from side to side. Without thinking, Lillian grabbed him by the ankle. She used her body weight as leverage and slowly began to pull him towards the window. Inch by inch, she was able to move Caleb’s body closer to the window. Lillian winced as she raked his back across the broken glass. When he woke up he would be injured, but hopefully they would both be alive. When she reached the window she relentlessly shoved at Caleb’s limp body over and over. Inch by inch, she pushed him out of the hole and crawled out right after him.

Soon after, sparks flew within the car. In a matter of moments, the vehicle was engulfed in flames. First, the cabin went up in a bright orange blaze, and then the fuel tank exploded, sending pieces of metal flying all around them. Lillian leaned over Caleb and shielded him with her own body.

When Caleb woke up in Department 99’s hospital ward he was surprised to see Lillian sitting by his side, clinging to his hand. Lillian. He could smell the sweetness of her shampoo, feel the softness of her touch. Maybe he was dreaming of her- again. The look of concern in her eyes moved something within him. Caleb’s vision was a bit hazy, but eventually his eyes started to adjust. As he became more alert, the memories started returning. He assessed his surroundings. He had and IV in each arm and was receiving a blood transfusion. His thigh ached and was tightly bandaged. Slowly, Caleb remembered that he had been shot.

Lillian squeezed Caleb’s hand and then withdrew. He wondered why she’d let go. “How are you feeling, tiger?” Lillian asked with a sly smile. Her smile made his heart skip a beat, and stirred something within him. “I’m a bear, not a tiger.” Caleb managed to squeak out with a tiny smile.

Lillian was undeniably beautiful. Suddenly, Caleb remembered that the kiss in the car. For some reason he felt ashamed, and lowered his glance.

A nurse entered the room with a tray of food, and seemed to flirt a bit with Caleb—which angered Lillian in a way she couldn’t quite explain.

“Agent Caleb Winters, you are one lucky man,” the nurse smiled and winked.  “Your partner here saved your ass. You’d have gone up in flames if it wasn’t for her,” the nurse continued. Caleb looked at Lillian with a questioning glance. Oddly, Lillian simply shrugged the compliment off and rolled her eyes. The nurse punched a few things into the computer located in the corner of the room, and then withdrew a small syringe and vial from a nearby refrigerator. She pressed the needle into the mouth of the vial and withdrew a small amount of fluid up into the syringe. Then, without speaking the nurse jabbed the needle into Caleb’s muscular arm. Caleb winced for a moment, and then drifted back to sleep.

Lillian looked at the nurse angrily. “Why did you do that?” Lillian demanded.

“Shifters heal a lot faster when they’re unconscious. If we do it this way, he’ll be better in a few days, versus a couple of months.” Lillian grabbed her coat from the back of her chair and angrily strode out of the room, leaving Caleb sleeping peacefully. Something inside her had wanted to tell him what he meant to her, but that certainly wouldn’t be happening now that he was so drugged.

Who the hell was Chachi? This seemed like a ridiculous amount of trouble to go to in order to resolve a demonic possession in a child. Finn didn’t seem like a special child in any way—aside from the fact that he was possessed. He wasn’t from a family of great influence. It just didn’t make much sense. Why would such a powerful demon take an interest in the boy, and why on earth would a mobster’s ghost get involved in the ordeal?

Lillian walked down the hallway, thinking deeply. Perhaps the mobster ghost had something in common with the demon? Why else would the mobster identify with such a vile entity? None of it made any sense. She needed to consult a few experts.

The first person Lillian called was Carrie Needles. Carrie wan an intuitive with a knack for figuring out mysteries involving the occult—but especially demonic possessions. If anyone could make sense out of this ordeal, it would be Carrie.

Lillian slammed the car door and strode up the walkway to Carrie’s small house. The house was covered in shrubs and unkempt plants. A few cats lingered about in the shadows, and Lillian crossed her arms in front of herself after ringing the doorbell. After a while, she could hear some movement within the house, and the distant creak of footsteps as they approached.

“You better not be trying to sell me no more of them Girl Scout cookies!” Carrie chuckled from inside. “Last time I bought four whole boxes from you, little girl and I gained five pounds!”

Suddenly, Carrie opened the door. When she saw Lillian standing in the doorway, her disappointment was almost palpable. “You again,” Carrie said, annoyed. “What do you want this time? Every time you come around, that means there’s trouble.” Lillian cleared her throat and followed Carrie into the kitchen. There were cats jumping about inside the house on virtually every surface. Lillian had never seen so many cats in one place.

“So what kind of trouble have you brought me today?” Carrie asked, sitting down at her kitchen table. She pulled a sugar cube from out of a glass container on the table and began to suck on it. Lillian noticed that one of Carrie’s front teeth was black. Carrie smacked her lips, seeming to enjoy the taste. “You’re in love,” Carrie blurted out while simultaneously looking Lillian up and down. Lillian’s face reddened and she glanced downward at a grey cat sauntering by.

“I’m here about a boy. The boy is possessed by some kind of entity, but there seems to be a ghost protecting the demon. I need some help sorting this out,” Lillian spoke. Carrie’s face softened when she learned that a child was involved. Lillian placed a small photo of Finn onto the table and slid it over to Carrie. For a moment the old psychic paused, and squinted. Then, she removed her glasses and studied the photo from up close.

“This isn’t what you think it is, girlie,” Carrie warned. “This is big..BIG…trouble,” Carrie continued. Lillian’s stomach twisted over and she felt as though she might be sick. “You got anything else that belongs to the boy? Maybe a toy?” Carrie asked. Lillian shook her head no. Carrie then gestured to a phone on the wall. “Call him up and put him on speaker for me. Don’t tell him I’m listening, just ask him how he’s doing.”

Lillian hesitated for a moment, and then walked over to the old phone on the wall. The phone was hanging in a crooked position, but still worked. She dialed Finn’s number and quickly pressed the speakerphone button. Finn’s mother answered on the other end. “Hi Kelly, this is agent Lillian Smithson, I just wanted to see how Finn was doing today.”

Finn’s mother paused—Lillian could tell from the way she paused that things weren’t going well. “We’re not doing so good today,” Kelly spoke quietly.

“Can you put Finn on the phone?” Lillian asked. There was another pause and then a series of clatters, as the telephone was handed to the little boy.

“Hello?” a tiny voice asked on the other end of the line. Then, the voice deepened and Finn began to chant in Aramaic again. “Hello Carrie…maaa…shhhhaaa…leeeenn” the boy’s voice was terrifying as he spoke to Carrie.

“Hang it up!” Carrie yelled from across the room, and Lillian slammed down the receiver.

Carrie immediately began rushing around the kitchen. She grabbed a small bundle of sage and lit it on fire. A thick coil of smoke billowed up from the bowl of burning sage, and Carrie made sure to cover both herself and Lillian in the smoke. Lillian looked a bit perplexed.

“He was calling out to other forces to come and attack us,” Carrie explained. “Have either of the parents ever dabbled in the occult? It’s unusual to see something so severe in such a young kid. This is not a random occurrence. This boy was targeted.” Carrie spoke firmly.

“I’ve investigated the family and they don’t seem to have any involvement with anything that would bring this on.” Lillian answered. “What about the grandparents, neighbors, cousins…” Carrie continued her line of questioning.

“The boy became friends with an elderly man in a nursing home who died—his name was Tom. After Tom died, Finn started seeing Tom’s ghost walking around the house at night…that’s how all of this started.” Lillian explained.

Carrie shook her head, “It wasn’t Tom’s ghost. I can tell you that from just listening to that voice. Come with me.”

Carrie stood up and quickly led Lillian into another small room of the house. In this room, symbols were written all over the walls, ceiling, and floor. She immediately lit another large bowl of sage. “I know for a fact that it’s one of the original fallen angels. When the boy was talking I could see the false light signature coming from his soul-energy. It’s also odd that he directed his curse at me and ignored you entirely.”

Carrie bustled around the room some more, and shut the door. There were words and symbols also scribbled all over the back of door. “This place is a fortress. We can speak safely in here,” Carrie added. A shiver went up Lillian’s spine. For some reason, she wished that Caleb was there with her. She thought of him laying asleep in the hospital bed, and then pushed the image from her mind. Caleb would know what to do, or at the very least he wouldn’t be shaking with fear like she was.

Carrie rushed over and pulled a large book off of one of the shelves in the room. “I don’t think you’re dealing with just two entities. When I listened to the boy’s voice—I sensed three dark forces. One is probably your dead mobster, and the other two are demons. One is a powerful demon, and the other is a lesser demon. You need to come up with a plan of attack girlie,” Carrie shook her head, trying to convey the seriousness of the situation to Lillian.

“When I went to the occult library I was told that I’m a descendant of a man called Aengus Smithson. The librarian said that he tricked the devil and so now all of his descendants are off-limits for the demonic. She said that if we could trick the demon into talking to me, it would automatically be sent to a lake of fire.” Lillian offered.

Carrie smirked. “Those new age librarians don’t know a damned thing compared to the occult experts from my generation. I don’t even know why Department 99 sends you guys over there. I know the legend of Aengus Smithson by heart, and she left out a few key parts. For one, the female descendants of Aengus don’t have the same protection that the male descendants do. If you’ve tried to call out to a demon—they are allowed to attack you, they just can’t possess you.” Carrie reached up to scratch at a spot on the center of her head. “So, as much as I hate to be the bearer of bad news, I’ve got to tell you that they can speak with you or attack you without any threat of harm to themselves.”

Lillian frowned, “Well, why won’t Finn’s demons talk to me? I’ve asked direct questions and every time, the entities seem to ignore me and speak to other people in the room.”

Carrie considered her question for a while. “That is the question, isn’t it?” Carrie answered. “I saw something somewhat similar to this in the 1970’s and it wasn’t good. By the way, be sure to guard your mind. The pact isn’t as ironclad as a novice might think. They might not be able to possess you, but they can still drive you to insanity or drive you to commit suicide. They’re very dangerous.”

Carrie got up and walked over to one of her cabinets. She reached inside and grabbed a few bundles of sage, which she handed to Lillian. “Native Americans figured out a long time ago, that sage contains some powerful properties which dispel dark energies. You’ll need something much stronger, but for now this can at least offer you some protection.” Lillian took the sage and clutched it to her chest.

Lillian quickly looked around at all of the writings on the walls, floor, and ceiling. “What if I tried to call out to Chachi from here? Would he be able to answer me?” Carrie nodded silently. She walked over to a table and picked up a small eraser. She then erased one line of the chalk writing nearest Lillian.

“That should break the stronghold enough for the mob ghost to slip through, but should still offer us protection from the demons. I’ve created a teeny tiny little crack in our fortress girlie, so if you’re going to call out—do it quickly.”

Lillian closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could hear her heart thudding away within her chest, and she tried consciously to slow her breathing and to silence her mind a bit. Then she recalled what Chachi’s voice had sounded like. Before her lips uttered even a single word, she called out to him with her mind. Then, she asked him, “Chachi, why do you want to hurt Finn?”

For a long while, no one responded. The candles in the room flickered and Lillian could hear Carrie’s breathing across from her. Then, the mobster’s voice came through. Instead of answering her question he seemed to be cussing her out. After he was finished unleashing a stream of cuss words he called her an idiot. Lillian pressed on. “Why are you helping the demons to destroy a little boy, Chachi?”

This time a hoarse nasty-sounding voice responded, “Why don’t you stay out of my business and shut the hell up…” She was getting nowhere. Suddenly, a terrible pain slammed itself into the side of her head. Lillian felt as if something were trying to invade her skull. “No!” Lillian shrieked. Carrie jumped up, with her piece of chalk in hand and replaced the missing line of the protection spell on the wall. Chachi was gone.

Lillian sat doubled over, holding her head in her hands. Her forehead pulsed and throbbed. Carrie quickly went over to the corner and pulled a leaf off of a nearby plant. “Chew this,” Carrie said as she handed it over to Lillian. The moment Lillian put it in her mouth, she felt instant relief.

About a half an hour later, Lillian found herself back in Caleb’s hospital room. He was still sleeping quietly, and Lillian couldn’t help but admire the perfection of his brow, his chiseled features, and the way his hair fell. He was so handsome. Again, she reached down and took his hand into her own. Lillian squeezed his palm, this time, hoping that Caleb might squeeze back.

Slowly the hospital door creaked open. A serious looking woman stepped inside with a tray, which held a few syringes. Lillian knew this woman by sight. She was a Department 99 legend. Her name was Karyn Rourke and she had saved the world, more or less. While she still worked in the field, Karyn had finished medical school with the help of Department 99, and now often worked the hospital units.

Karyn walked over to Caleb and smiled slightly. She noticed Lillian clutching his hand tightly. She seemed to comprehend the bond between Lillian and Calen that Lillian herself didn’t quite understand.

“The first time I met your friend, he threatened me,” Karyn smiled to Lillian. Karyn lifted Caleb’s eyelids and glanced at the white of his eyeballs. She then listened to his heartbeat. Without saying a word, Karyn gave Caleb two new injections—one into his leg wound, and another into his bicep. “You can take him home after he wakes up, but bring him back if he has any further complications.” Caleb woke up just as Karyn was exiting the room.

Caleb’s eyes slowly blinked open. “Hey you,” Lillian said to him softly. “Hi,” Caleb grumbled. Caleb’s eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light. The first thing he noticed was a head of bright red hair beside him, then he felt Lillian’s hand in his own. After that, he felt his strength rapidly returning. He felt almost like a shadow of a person returning to a whole form. Lillian’s blue eyes gleamed in the dark room. He noticed that as she leaned in to hold his hand a certain amount of her cleavage was exposed. He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to touch her, to finally tell her the depth of feelings he harbored for her.

After a few moments in silence, Caleb sat up on the edge of the bed. Lillian couldn’t help but notice his beautiful calf muscles as they dangled over the edge of the gurney. She reached over and handed him a T-shirt and a pair of pants that Department 99 had provided. First, Caleb pulled the T-shirt over his head, and then he turned his back to her and pulled the pants up over his bare butt. Lillian smiled. It was the second time she had seen his exposed rear-end and she couldn’t help but admire how shapely and muscular he was. When Caleb was dressed they silently walked out of the hospital unit and into the car.

Lillian had decided to drive Caleb to her house. She could put him up in the guest room and fill him in on the details of what had occurred with Chachi’s ghost. As they drove in silence, Caleb tired eyes kept travelling to Lillian’s shapely legs. He watched as each time she pressed down on the accelerator, her calf muscle flexed. The window was cracked slightly and warm air tousled her hair bathing him in her aroma. She was so beautiful. His eyes scanned the length of her body and then back to her face. He stared at her full lips, and remembered the kiss they’d shared. He wasn’t sure how he should handle the situation. He was clearly having trouble keeping his feelings for his co-agent professional. Proper protocol dictated that he ask that one of them be reassigned, yet he was too selfish to follow protocol in this situation. Besides, at this point he was certain that regardless of whether they were in the same room together or not, she would still occupy his thoughts every second of every day.

A short while later Caleb and Lillian were sitting in her living room, discussing the case. Lillian had placed a cup of hot cocoa in front of Caleb and he was sipping at it tentatively. Her eyes glistened in the darkness, and Caleb could no longer concentrate on what she was trying to say. He reached over and pulled her closer by the waist. His lips descended over her mouth and he kissed her deeply. He ran his tongue along the seam and she instinctually parted her lips for him to slip his tongue into her mouth. Lillian moaned softly and Caleb responded by pulling her into his lap and holding her tighter. She could feel the hard bulge in Caleb’s pants as he held her in his arms. His kiss softened and he nibbled lightly on her bottom lip. He leaned back on the sofa pulling her with him, enjoying the moment. For Caleb, feeling Lillian’s body pressed up against his was a dream come true. Literally. How many times had he daydreamed about holding her in his arms just this way, and tasting her lips? Though fully clothed, her body was positioned over his so his erection pressed firmly between her legs. He could feel the soft rise of her breath, and the pressure of her breasts against his chest. Caleb slipped his hand beneath her shirt. He slid his hand up to her breasts and began to slowly caress them. Caleb really wanted to rip her clothes off and ravish her right there, but he knew to take things slowly. As he touched her breasts, Lillian continue to moan softly. He trailed kisses along Lillian’s neck by her ear and slowly worked his way down to her cleavage. Her skin was unbelievably soft to the touch.

Lillian was in heaven. She couldn’t believe that Caleb was actually touching her in the ways she had only fantasized about. She reveled in the feeling of his wandering hands, and the low groans he made as he rubbed himself against her. She reached up and grasped his biceps. His arms were impossibly hard and chiseled. Her strongest desire was to tear her clothes off and drag him upstairs to her bedroom, but something prevented her from doing this.

Caleb started to slowly unbutton the front of Lillian’s shirt. As the cloth fell away, he noted that she was wearing that beautiful red lacy bra again. He leaned down and kissed the top of her breasts. Then, he popped her breasts up and out of the bra.

Lillian felt exposed and a bit vulnerable. The air felt cool against her nipples. Slowly, Caleb lowered his mouth over her left nipple and began to suck. She couldn’t believe this was finally happening. Lillian exhaled, and the stress of watching and worrying as he laid in the hospital recovery ward, melted out of her body with every stroke of his tongue. His strong hands wandered her body, feeling and caressing. Again he kissed her mouth. This time she returned the kiss passionately, threading her fingers through his hair and pulling his face to hers. A deep rumbling sound emanated from Caleb’s chest as she did this, and he dug his fingers into her hips pressed himself against her. Lillian shuddered. He was kissing her neck feverishly now and she heard soft moaning sounds escaping her lips. She reached up and pulled Caleb’s shirt over his head. His shirt came off easily and she tossed it into the corner of the room. Caleb’s muscles rippled, and Lillian admired the chiseled beautiful look of his body. He was covered in a slight sheen of sweat and his body glistened as he slid her onto the couch and moved on top of her. Lillian reached down and fingered the clasp on Caleb’s pants. Another growling sound came from deep within him and he gently bit her neck. Suddenly, his bear started to take over his thoughts. His bear screamed at him demanding he bite down on her- mark her and claim her as his mate. Caleb had never experienced such a felling before. Never with all the women Caleb had been with, and there had been a good deal, had his bear made any such demands. A mate? Someone like Caleb was not suited for a mate. Quickly, he pulled away.

“What happened? Did I do something wrong?” Lillian asked, a bit confused. Caleb shook his head no. He wanted her. There was no question about that. He also knew that he was in control of his animal. The department had put him through extensive training and before he could be a field agent, it was made certain that he, the human Caleb, not his bear, dominated his body.

He then turned back to strong, beautiful, fiery Lillian and was overtaken by desire. He made a decision. His bear would shut the hell up, and he would explore her tonight. He would be careful not to take himself to the point of no return, but he would let her know how badly he wanted her. In one swift motion, he swooped her up and carried her upstairs to the bedroom.

Caleb lay her down on top of the comforter and started with her neck running his lips, tongue and mouth over every inch of her down to her ankles. His kisses were soft and gentle tickling and making Lillian giggle with delight. He then gently started to massage her calf muscles. Lillian relaxed at his touch. Then, he was on top of her again. Lillian wanted so badly to take his jeans off, yet when her hands wandered down to the clasp on his pants, he pinned her hands down.

“Behave yourself,” Caleb whispered into her ear playfully. The sound of his voice sent shivers down her spine. Lillian shuddered beneath his body, and arched her back trying to feel more of him. Finally, she could take no more. She reached up and pulled his body down on top of her capturing his lips in her mouth kissing him deeply once again.

Caleb’s strong hands reached down and pulled Lillian’s jeans off. The movement was so swift that in seconds she was lying beneath him clad only in her red lacy panties and Caleb’s strong hands were making soft circles on her thighs. Lillian shuddered. Her panties were soaked from yearning. Slowly and gently, Caleb’s hand made his way up to them.

“Can I?” he asked her softly. Lillian nodded yes. Then, Caleb pushed her panties aside and flicked his fingers softly against her. His face was inches from her and his eyes never left hers as he found her sweet spot. He watched her as though she was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen. Lillian moaned in ecstasy and responded by kissing the side of his neck, and then biting him hard. Caleb winced, and then laughed softly.

They went on like that for the remainder of the night, locked in an embrace exploring one another—but not quite going all the way. Caleb felt so alive in Lillian’s arms that he didn’t want to let go.

The next morning, Lillian woke up before the sun was up. She looked over at the sleeping form of Caleb, lying next to her in the bed. They had acted like two high schoolers, spending the night exploring one another, but not letting things go too far. Even still, Lillian wanted all of him. He looked so handsome and peaceful as he slept.

On impulse, Lillian crept out of bed and threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Even with all of the excitement, she couldn’t get the situation with Finn and Chachi off of her mind. She decided to let Caleb sleep in while she went to hunt down some more information. Dr. Rourke had warned her that his injuries had been so extensive that even with his remarkable shifter healing, it would take several more days before he was at full functional capacity.

Before leaving, Lillian scrawled out a short note on the kitchen table. “Going back to Carrie’s house. Will bring back coffee and something sweet to eat,” she wrote. Lillian strode out of the house wearing a wide grin on her face. There was one more question she’d forgotten to ask Carrie, and she wanted to do it in the safe-room.

This time, when Lillian knocked on Carrie’s door, something seemed out of place. Lillian knocked again and the door opened by itself.

“Carrie?” Lillian called, as she peeked her head into the house. Something about the cats made Lillian feel uneasy—they appeared stressed and on alert. “Carrie! It’s Lillian!” she called. Lillian continued to walk through the house, approaching the kitchen. There, in the dim light, she was able to make out Carrie’s form laying sprawled face-down on the kitchen floor. Lillian dropped to her knees immediately, and tried to turn Carrie over to see if she was breathing. When she managed to get Carrie onto her back, it was clear that the woman was dead. Her face was a deathly shade of blue, and her eyes were glossed over. Carrie’s lips were parted and her face was contorted into a horrible grimace. Lillian reached down grasping the radio at her side to call in for back-up.

At that moment, everything went black. Some kind of sack was placed over Lillian’s head and her arms were restrained behind her back. Lillian kicked wildly and screamed, struggling to get free from whoever held her against her will. From the back of the room, Lillian could hear a terrible laugh that sounded like Chachi. Then, there was a sharp prick of a needle being buried into the back of her neck. Lillian fought to stay conscious, but it was no use. The world faded into darkness.

Caleb woke with a smile and reached for Lillian. He had expected her to be lying beside him. Last night had been wonderful. He had finally been allowed to explore this woman who had dominated his thoughts for quite some time and the reality was so much better that he had imagined. He knew he was falling fast and hard, but damned if he could help it. The pillows smelled like her shampoo, and he wondered if they could shower together this morning. He was taking things slowly, maintaining control over his bear, but maybe he could get a little bit closer to her today if he was careful. Caleb reached over the side of the bed and pulled on his jeans. His bare feet stepped onto the coolness of the hardwood floor and he called out for her. “Lillian,” Caleb said softly. He waited for a response. Perhaps she was downstairs fixing them breakfast.

Caleb crept silently down the steps, unable to keep from smiling. He made his way to the coffee pot, filled the tub on top with water and waited patiently as the warm coffee dripped down into the glass container below.

There was an envelope on the table with his name on it. Perhaps she’d left a little love-note, or something. Caleb snatched up the envelope and tore it open. Inside there was a photo of Lillian, bloodied and bound at both her hands and feet. Her eyes looked as though she were pleading and at the bottom of the picture was a word written in black magic marker: checkmate.

part 3

THE DEAD OF NIGHT

When Lillian woke up, the first thing she noticed was the ice-cold floor beneath her. The right side of her face also felt strange—almost as if it were bruised and puffy. She couldn’t open her right eye all of the way, and each time she blinked a sharp pain ripped through her face. Lillian gently raised her hand to her cheek and winced. Perhaps they had simply just thrown her in here and maybe she’d landed on her face. After all, goons weren’t exactly known for their caring and compassionate nature—if that was who had kidnapped her.

Lillian sat up on the ground and her eyes strained to adjust to the lack of light. It was clear that she was in some kind of basement. The air was musty and smelled of mold. Lillian closed her eyes for one brief moment. She could hear the distant patter of rain outside, and yet the storm sounded as if it were far above her. There were a few puddles of errant rainwater gathered on the floor as well. For some reason, she immediately remembered that Carrie, her elderly psychic friend was dead. Yes, she had been in Carrie’s house when someone had placed a sack over her head and had forcibly taken her. Lillian assumed that she was now with Carrie’s murderers, but she couldn’t be sure. She had heard what sounded like a number of voices before they’d drugged her and dragged her out of the house. Then, the radio had been changed to some kind of religious sermon before she’d passed out. None of the voices sounded familiar. In fact, they didn’t even have the familiar accent of the mobsters she’d encountered earlier in the week. This was completely new territory.

Lillian looked down and realized that her shoes were gone—someone had taken them right off of her feet. The room was terribly dark, but she stood up anyway, determined to try and find a way out. Lillian reached out in front of herself blindly and felt her way along a cool wall in front of her. It was made out of some kind of brick, Lillian made a mental note of that, and judging by the coolness of the wall, she was almost certainly underground somewhere—in a basement of sorts.

For a moment, Lillian’s mind wandered back to Caleb. In her mind, she pictured his beautiful face, and imagined the disappointment he might feel in realizing that she had disappeared—perhaps, for good. Maybe he would blame himself and think that he had somehow driven her away. On the other hand, maybe these people might dump her body in front of Department 99’s headquarters when they were finished with her. Lillian winced inwardly. No—Caleb was a smart man. Eventually he would put the pieces of the puzzle together and would realize that something very serious had occurred. Caleb would never stop hunting for her killers if things ended with her death, she knew that much for certain.

The basement had a strong smell, which was terrible. There stench was moldy, but there was something else there too, something a bit more sinister. Was it the smell of rotting flesh? Lillian doubled over and vomited. As she threw up, all kinds of terrible fears ran rampant in her head. Department 99 had trained all of its agents on how to escape in the unlikely event that they were held hostage, and Lillian struggled to think back to that day in the classroom. The instructor had suggested that they try and fight their way out at any cost, and then try to find a way to signal Department 99’s extraction team. Yet she didn’t have any tools. She didn’t have anything at all. Still, her instructor had insisted that there was always something that could be used to an agent’s advantage. She just needed to figure out what that was. Maybe she could lure one of her captors into the room and snap his or her neck. Maybe she could throw a handful of dirt into one of the captors’ eyes—that might buy her a little bit of time. No. Those plans were foolish, at best.

Even from within the damp basement all of those ideas seemed foolish and almost insane. Throwing dirt into a person’s eyes was a surefire way to piss them off. And sure, maybe she could snap one neck, but what if three or four men came into the cell at one time? How was she going to signal someone when she couldn’t even see her hands in front of her face? Yet, somehow, Lillian started to steel her will. She had to be tough now. If she showed any weakness, her captors might try and use those things to their advantage. In her mind, she pictured an image of Caleb. What would he do if he were in this situation? How would Caleb save himself? Caleb would save his own life at virtually any cost.

Lillian slumped down to the ground and started to listen intently. She closed her eyes, because they weren’t useful in the pitch-black darkness anyway. Lillian strained her ears to try and hear in the faraway distance. At first, she noticed the drip drip drip of some water on the far side of the room. That was good information. Then, Lillian was startled when she heard groaning nearby.

Very quietly, Lillian stood back up, and made her way over to where she thought she heard the groaning noise. She felt her way along the stone wall and was surprised to find that the texture of the wall changed into plywood on that side. Someone on the other side of the wall was groaning. Maybe it was a trick her captors were using to try and get more information out of her, but it could also be someone in a similar predicament.

Lillian leaned her ear up against the plywood and started to listen quietly. The moaning was so garbled that she couldn’t quite make out of the voice belonged to a male or female. Yet, for a moment, terror shot through her body. For a second, she imagined that it was Caleb moaning on the other side of the plywood wall. Lillian wanted to say something. She needed to know if it was him. Her mind was starting to play tricks on her in the darkness, and Lillian needed to have some sense of certainty about her environment, no matter how small.

Instead of speaking, Lillian raised her fist and softly knocked on the plywood wall four times in a row. The groaning stopped immediately. The person on the other side of the wall seemed to be listening, or waiting for her to make a second move. Lillian took a deep breath and knocked decisively again. Then she heard some kind of movement on the other side of the wall. It wasn’t walking—no; the person on the other side was crawling over to the plywood. This time, four knocks came from the other side of the wall. “Caleb, is that you?” Lillian whispered. There was no response.

After a long while, she knocked twice and the person on the other side of the plywood wall copied her. Lillian’s heart sank and leapt for joy all at once. Caleb would not have reacted that way. If it were him over there, surely he would have said something to her. Inwardly, she felt despair—yet she forced herself to try and be glad for him too. It was a good thing that he hadn’t also been kidnapped. Yet, a part of her selfishly had hoped that he was there with her. She could face almost anything with Caleb by her side. Yet, he wasn’t by her side. He was probably back in bed, or sitting on the front steps wondering why she had left him without so much as an explanation. He was probably heart-broken or feeling regretful about their little make-out session.

Finally, Lillian worked up enough courage to try and say something to the person on the other side of the wall. “Hello,” Lillian whispered. There was a pause on the other side, and then a cough. “Hello,” a male voice answered cautiously. Lillian could tell by his accent that he wasn’t a native English speaker. His voice reminded her of a friend she’d met from the Honduras. “Who are you?” Lillian asked. The man on the other side of the wall took a deep sigh, as if he had to consider how to answer this question for a long time. Lillian could hear him sucking at the air. Then slowly, he answered her. “My name is Armond,” he said in his beautiful accent. “Armond, do you know what this place is or why we’ve been brought here?” Lillian asked.

Armond surprised her with a chuckle. “I took my wife on vacation in Brazil three years ago and she had a heart attack while jogging on the beach. Soon after, some men showed up in the hotel room, and then I woke up here. No explanation—no nothing. I’ve been in here for over three years.”

Lillian’s face twisted. All this time she’d assumed that they were in a basement located in Kansas City, but in reality they could have been anywhere in the world. There was another thing that terrified her about Armond’s story—he’d been there for such a long time, and no one had found him.

Lillian looked around; her eyes were unable to see in the darkness. She wondered if Armond had spent those three years in the same impossible darkness. “My wife was a beautiful woman,” Armond added, almost as an after-thought.

Lillian got to work. “We need to figure out why we’ve been captured, Armond. Do you have any ideas? What kind of work do you do? I need you to tell me as much as you can about this place.” Lillian whispered. There was another pause on the other side of the wall as Armond considered Lillian’s words. He too worried that this could be some kind of trick—yet at this point, it didn’t really matter. They had already taken everything from him, and he had nothing left to lose.

“I’m no one special. I’ve never done anything remarkable during my entire life.” He said, sounding defeated. “Why do you think these people took notice of you?” Lillian pressed him. She could hear his voice crack slightly on the other side of the wall—something about it made her think of Caleb and long for his touch. He would know what to do. He would have at least formulated some kind of plan by now. “I never did anything special. I just fixed cars for a living and kept to myself mostly,” Armond said. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but I guess it doesn’t matter much because she’s dead anyway…my wife worked for the Secret Service. She was the smart one. She was brilliant.”

Lillian nodded to herself—now they were getting somewhere. So, perhaps this was an attempt to get information out of them, or maybe ransom from the United States. “Has anyone else come and gone, since you’ve been here Armond?” Lillian asked. He made a slight sound before answering, and Lillian could tell that the topic pained him greatly. “There have been a few that have come and gone from the room you’re in now, and a few that have come and gone on the other side of my other wall. I’m in the middle of two rooms. There might be more, but I know there are at least three.”

Lillian nodded, making a mental note of this information. Now, she had at least some kind of an idea of the layout of the place. She had only one plywood wall, which meant she must have been at the end of some kind of corridor. There were at least three rooms to her left, and probably nothing but solidly packed dirt to her right.

“How do they give you food and water, Armond?” Lillian asked. “It comes from a trap door above us,” he said. “When do they feed us? Is there a schedule?” Lillian asked eagerly. “There seems to be no pattern to it at all,” he said sadly. “What do you think this place is?” Lillian asked. Armond paused for a minute. “I think it’s two things actually,” he said. “I think it’s some kind of a betting ground—some kind of an illegal ring to make money, and I also think it’s a convenient way to murder the people you need to get out of the way,” Armond spoke sadly.

Lillian was surprised by his answer. “If this were some kind of a killing ground, I’d think the turn-around would be pretty high. You’ve been here for three years,” Lillian said, trying to sound confident. His voice grew quiet, “You haven’t heard the things I’ve heard. This is a bad place,” Armond said—more to himself than to Lillian.

Suddenly a slot opened up in her ceiling and a small bag dropped down. The bag contained a bottle of water and some kind of sandwich. “I just got some food,” Lillian said to Armond. “Smell it first,” he said. “Sometimes they use the food to drug you, and when that happens people don’t usually come back.”

Lillian lowered her nose to the sandwich inside the plastic baggie. It smelled like some kind of disgusting bologna. There was no mustard and no mayonnaise—just a single piece of lunchmeat slapped between two dry pieces of stale bread. Lillian could smell the preservative in the meat, and the salt…but there was nothing that had a decisively chemical scent to it, and so she bit into the sandwich impulsively.

The water was a bit more suspect. The plastic seal around the lid of the water bottle was already broken, and the water had a strange taste to it. Had Lillian been able to see in the darkness, she might have been able to read the brand of the water—thereby helping her make some determinations about her location.

As Lillian munched down on her sandwich, she asked more questions. “Do they ever turn the lights on?” she asked. Armond coughed in the darkness. His cough sounded faraway and desolate. “Don’t eat all of your food at once. I know it’s tempting, but you need to ration your food and water. It could be days before they come back,” he said. His words seemed to spring her back into reality. She had already consumed over half of the sandwich, but she stuffed the remainder back into the plastic bag. “If you leave a little piece out, you might be able to catch a rat for extra protein,” Armond sighed again. Lillian thought of Caleb. Surely, he would know what to do. At the very least, she would feel safe enclosed in his muscular arms.

When Caleb saw the envelop with the photo of Lillian inside of it, his mind went into a panic. Obviously, she had been kidnapped—but who had done this, and why? Was all of this happening because of the stupid Chachi mystery? It didn’t make any sense. There had to be something more. Lillian hadn’t done anything to anyone. Was someone using her to try and make him suffer? A multitude of questions whirled through his head.

Caleb sat down at the kitchen table and clutched the photograph. She’d only been gone for a few hours, which ruled many places out geographically speaking. Even if they had traveled away by plane, only a smattering of places were so nearby. This ruled Europe and various other continents out.

Caleb studied the photo. His eyes kept being drawn back to Lillian’s battered face. Though her eyelids were slightly parted, she didn’t look conscious in the photo. The photo had been taken outside. There were a few plants. Maybe if he could identify the plants that would give him a better idea of her location. Also, in the photo it was dark—yet 2 hours hadn’t been enough time for Lillian to cross into a different time zone. Moreover, it was a Polaroid—which meant that the photograph had been taken at her exact location, and then brought back to the kitchen table. She was nearby. The round-trip had been made in less than 2 hours, which meant Lillian was probably somewhere very close, and more than likely still alive.

Caleb racked his brain thinking of solutions. In order to find out where Lillian was, it would certainly help to know why she was taken. Caleb brought the photo into the living room and collapsed onto the sofa. Why would someone kidnap her? The word “checkmate” at the bottom of the photo definitely hinted that the motive was personal. Was there someone who had a recent grudge with him? Maybe an old adversary? Caleb’s stomach flipped over and seemed to turn sour. He didn’t have many enemies in this dimension, but in the ghost-world, he had made more adversaries than he could even count. There was something about the timing of it that didn’t sit right with him. First, the little boy—the mess with Chachi, and now this? Was it possible that everything could be related somehow? Caleb reached over to the telephone. He was going to have to call in a few friends at the department for help with this one, and he didn’t want to waste any time. The experts needed to start analyzing the photograph right away. Caleb pulled the phone up to his ear.

When he did so, the line was dead. Caleb looked around, scanning the room for a weapon. He’d assumed that the kidnappers had meant to take only Lillian…yet now a terrible possibility slowly descended upon him. The word “checkmate” might have been intended for him. He might be the one in fatal danger. Caleb’s heart raced.

Caleb usually carried some kind of Department 99 weaponry. It was very rare for him to be in any situation without at least a gun holstered around his waist, yet here he was. No gun downstairs. The gun was upstairs next to a pile of crumpled up clothes, and had been thrown off and tossed aside in the heat of passion last night. Caleb held his breath for a moment as the sound of soft footsteps approached.

Lillian had learned more about Armond than she had ever known about anyone. Unfortunately, there was really nothing to do in collective basement cells except to talk. Mostly, Armond seemed happy to have a kind ear. Though he’d been in the basement for over three years, he’d seen other guests come and go. Unfortunately, he’d spent the better part of the last six months locked up alone.

A thought suddenly occurred to Lillian. “Who was in this cell before I was brought here?” She asked him through the plywood wall. Armond paused a while, and for a minute it didn’t seem as though he was willing to answer her question. “It was a young boy,” Armond finally said. Lillian’s stomach flipped over. A young boy? What kind of ruthless organization would capture a young boy and keep him in such horrible conditions? “They said they were releasing him into the killing fields and then, he was gone. I heard him screaming as they were carrying him off. It was terrible. He was shouting for his father and for me. I never heard his voice again after that.” “Do you remember the boy’s name?” Lillian asked. She felt guilty for pressing Armond for more information. Talking about this situation was clearly bringing him a great amount of pain, yet she had no choice. If they were going to survive, she needed as much information as possible.

“The boy told me that his name was Lucas. He said that his mother had worked for some kind of department, hunting supernatural entities, but in reality, I think he’d gone insane. Something like that couldn’t possibly exist,” Armond stated blandly. Lillian’s stomach leapt up into her chest. She doubled over and threw up the few bites of sandwich that she had managed to swallow earlier. Whoever had kidnapped her, almost certainly had some kind of connection to Department 99. The connection to Department 99 and Armond’s wife, made Lillian think that this was related to Chachi somehow. Lillian lay back on the cool floor, trying to put all of the pieces together. She could hear Armond humming a tune to himself on the other side of the wall.

Lillian closed her eyes. Her thoughts wandered back to Caleb. His body had felt so good pressed against her own. She wondered what he was doing. He was probably rallying the troupes at Department 99, perhaps getting a team ready to come and find her. Then, Lillian’s eyes blinked open. She thought about the phrase that Armond had used earlier to describe where the young boy whose cell she now occupied had been taken: the killing fields.

Caleb grabbed a paperweight up off of the table. He clutched it in his strong fist, ready to kill whoever rounded the corner and entered the living room. The footsteps were moving slowly and had almost reached a stop near the entrance to the room where he was located. Caleb’s back was pressed up against the wall and his heart hammered away within his chest. Finally, the footsteps stopped. It was now or never.

Caleb leapt from behind the wall and tackled the figure in the frame, sending him clattering to the floor. Caleb was drunk with fear and just started to punch the person’s head repeatedly, until eventually, a vague sort of recognition took hold. It was Killian Marshall—one of Department 99’s best agents. Killian was also a vampire. Killian pushed forward, knocked Caleb off of him, and sent him sprawling onto the ground with a loud thump.

“If you’re behind this, vampire,” Caleb spat. “I got called out here because the department has been trying to reach both you and Lillian for the last hour. The agency is on lock-down. Someone stole a disease sample from the lab.” Killian barked.

Caleb had never liked Killian, but his story certainly made sense. In addition, even though Caleb couldn’t stand him, there was no question that Killian was always on the up and up. He cared about human beings more than anyone Caleb had ever met.

Caleb shoved the photo of Lillian into Killian’s hand. Killian made a panicked face for a moment, and then brought the photo up to his nose. Caleb hadn’t noticed, but there were a few drops of blood on the back of the photo. Killian started to sniff the drops of blood intensely. “You’re looking for two separate guys. One is a snake shifter, and the other is human…but he’s dying of liver failure.” Killian reached down to the radio at his waist and called a few orders in to those back at the base. The hunt was on.

Caleb wasted no time. Even if he didn’t really have much of an idea of what was going on, snake shifters tended to live near small bodies of water. He had a hunch that he knew where to look.

Lillian’s face still ached, but strangely enough, she forced herself to smile. If anyone could find her, it would be Caleb. She closed her eyes again, envisioning his touch. She had felt so safe, so perfectly content in his arms as her body writhed beneath his muscular frame. She never imagined that she’d fall for a bear shifter, but Caleb was unlike so many of the other shifters. Sure, he was tough and strong, but he also had a sensitive side—a certain kindness about him.

Caleb ran past Killian, almost knocking him over. “You douche-bag!” Killian called back as he struggled to regain his footing. Caleb was sprinting towards Killian’s black car, which was still running. He jumped inside and sped away, leaving a trail of brown dust, and a cussing Killian spitting in his direction. “You stupid cave-dweller!” Killian screamed, as Caleb sped away.

Theft wasn’t really Caleb’s style, but if he wanted to save Lillian, he needed to act quickly. Caleb tried to access the touch-screen in Killian’s car. All of the agents had electronic address books, which could be accessed via email. If he could hack into Lillian’s email account, he might be able to take a peek at her address book, and maybe even her calendar. Finally, the miniature computer connected to the Department 99 server. Caleb typed in Lillian’s email address and then paused when he reached the password line. He had no idea what Lillian might use for a password.

First, he tried her date of birth. A red X appeared on the screen. You have two more attempts remaining, a recorded voice announced. It was a pathetic attempt, but next Caleb typed in the word ghost. She was good with ghosts, good with the supernatural. The red X appeared again. Caleb screamed for a moment and punched at the dashboard. Then, in a sheer fit of rage he typed in his own name and the screen unlocked.

“I’ll be damned,” Caleb thought. Lillian’s crush on him must have gone deeper than he realized. His name was her password. How cute…and also slightly creepy…but mostly cute.

Finally, he had access to her emails. There were a few messages from her superiors about various missions and expeditions—an invitation to a company party next week. Caleb flipped to view her contact book and calendar. There was an address, and the word Carrie stamped above the date. He had a solid lead.

Caleb punched the address into the GPS and sped off to find Carrie; whoever that was.

Lillian was shivering on the floor now. Her captors hadn’t bothered to give her any kind of blanket and the room was becoming unbearably cold. “How do you manage to live in this place?” Lillian asked Armond. “How do you keep yourself warm at night?” Lillian asked. “Oh, you learn a few tricks here and there. None of them are really very pleasant, but I guess the fact that I’m still alive counts for something—even though there’s no one for me to go home to.” Armond said quietly. “Are you rationing your water like I told you to?” Armond asked. “Yes, I am.” Lillian responded. “Is the floor over there still made of dirt in some spots?” Armond asked. Lillian was surprised by the question. She hadn't paid much attention to the floor.

Now, Lillian started to feel around. There were many cracks, that much was certain. It was definitely tile in some sections, and some of the tile was peeled away and Armond was right—there was dirt. “It will take a while with that flimsy crap you've got over there, but you’ll need to dig yourself two things. First, dig yourself a latrine in an area that you don’t like. Second, dig yourself a little bed. You’ll be able to crawl in if you can get deep enough, then at night you can cover yourself up with some of the dirt. It won’t be like a five-star motel, but you’ll survive.” Armond coughed. Immediately Lillian got to work, digging with her hands.

When Caleb arrived at Carrie’s house, the place was in terrible disarray. He hadn’t even bothered to knock because the door was virtually torn from hinges. When Caleb had arrived, it was simply swinging back and forth with the wind. As he stepped inside, he called Lillian’s name. It made no sense, of course, but he still did it. The house had a strange smell; the smell of death.

Caleb started to look around. There were cats everywhere, and by the look of it, the animals were very distressed. An orange tabby cat rubbed itself against his legs. Caleb reached down and scratched behind the cat’s ears. “What happened here?” He asked the cat, who only purred in response. Then, the cats were coming out from many different directions—looking for affection, and food. There was a small cat in the corner of the room that was beige colored and Caleb noticed a smattering of blood around its mouth. A few of the cats had blood in their fir.

Caleb drew a weapon that he had removed from Killian’s car, and took a deep breath. He gathered his reserve and readied himself to fight. Caleb rounded the corner. He had expected to find some kind of enemy, but instead he found 40 or 50 cats eating at the corpse of an old woman. “Get away from that! Get away from her!” Caleb yelled, trying to shoo the cats away. Yet, they feasted on the body without remorse, and would not be deterred. Caleb inched his way closer, the body of an elderly woman lay crumpled up on the floor. The cats had eaten her face away and most of her shoulders and arms.

Caleb rushed from the house and back into the front yard. He threw up violently next to the sidewalk. He could only think of Lillian. Lillian was in danger and he felt powerless and weak. Suddenly, a little child walked by bouncing a basketball in front of him. The boy smiled at him in a way that Caleb recognized—the child was possessed. The boy continued down the road and Caleb followed, keeping a safe distance. The child rounded back into an alleyway, and suddenly the thump of the basketball against the pavement stopped. “I know who you are,” Caleb called. The boy laughed in response- clearly toying with him. “I want you to tell me where Lillian is. If you can help me, I might be able to help you.”

The boy stepped out into the alleyway; his eyes were dark and menacing. “I won’t allow you to help this child, Caleb.” A deep voice spoke from the mouth of the youngster. “You’ve already been such a nuisance.” Caleb jumped forward and seized the boy by the shoulders. Irrationally, Caleb shook the child. The child kept repeating the same phrase over and over.” You’ve already been such a nuisance…you’ve already been such a nuisance…” “Shut up!” Caleb screamed.

“You tell me where she is! Tell me right now,” Caleb shouted. An old woman stepped out into the alleyway carrying a shovel. “Is something going on here? What is this?” the woman asked. The possessed child winced and started to cry. “He hit me!” The boy screamed, lying. “Get your hands off that child!” The old woman demanded. “I didn’t hit him. I shook him a little, but I never hit him.” The woman pulled a cell phone out of her pocket pressed it to her ear. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’m calling the authorities. Come here son,” she said to the boy, with her arms outstretched. Caleb immediately got in between them. “Don’t touch him ma’am,” Caleb said. “The kid has a demon inside of him, and that’s how it jumps from person-to-person. Don’t make physical contact.” Caleb warned. The woman spoke into her cell phone. “There’s a man out here behind my house. He just assaulted a little boy and now he’s talking about demons jumping around in people’s bodies. I think he might be schizophrenic or maybe he’s high on some kind of drug.” The woman said. Caleb rolled his eyes. This was the last thing he needed.

The woman flipped the phone closed. “Police are going to be here in about five minutes. If you don’t want any trouble, I’d suggest you run,” she said to Caleb. Immediately he recognized the look in her eyes—she was possessed too.

Caleb tore off in the direction of the car. He was too late; a police car was screeching its way down the lane in his direction. Caleb decided to make a run for it on foot. He jumped a nearby fence, and slammed into some clothes, which had been hung out to dry. Even still, Caleb refused to slow down. He ran at top speed, pumping his arms and legs back-and-forth. The sirens faded as he put more distance between himself and the cops. It was a narrow escape, but at least he made it.

Lillian continued to dig. The earth was hard and cold, and it took a tremendous amount of time to just break the surface. A thought occurred to Lillian in that moment. If the earth was pliable enough to dig a sleeping hole, why couldn’t she try and dig her way out? Lillian remembered the broken tile at the opposite end of the room. She felt her way over there and started to dig using the tile this time—it was much more effective. When she’d tired herself out, she went and sat back down next to the plywood wall.

“Armond? Armond are you there?” Lillian asked. No answer. Then, she heard him stir. It was obvious that this place was taking its toll on Armond. “Armond, have you ever tried to dig out of here?” Lillian asked. Armond chuckled. “Dig with what, my fingernails?” he asked. “I have stone tiles over here,” Lillian said. “Well then, you’ve got a shovel and a weapon.” Armond coughed. “By the way that Lucas described it, I thought the tiles on your side were linoleum…all this time, I had no idea.” He sounded grieved. Lillian felt a twinge of guilt. She had quite a few tiles, and after scraping at the plywood wall, she managed to pass a tile underneath to Armond, who then cried. “Can you reach your hand under for a moment?” He asked. “I haven’t felt the touch of another person in three years,” he sighed. Lillian hesitated, but then reached her hand beneath the wall. A large hand covered in something gritty enclosed her own. He held her hand for a long while as they sat crying in the dark. While Armond secretly imagined that he was somehow holding his wife’s hand, Lillian imagined that she was touching Caleb—that he was somehow only a breath away.

Finally, Caleb managed to reach a payphone. He dialed the direct number of his supervisor at Department 99 collect. A mousy male voice answered on the other end. “You better have a really good explanation for what the hell is going on. You stole agent Killian Marshall’s car, and then you tried to kidnap a boy after assaulting him?” His supervisor’s voice was shrill. Caleb was insulted. Of course, he’d never do anything like that…aside from stealing the car, which he had done…but with good reason.

“Boss, there’s some kind of problem with this Chachi ghost. Lillian was kidnapped this morning and I’ve been trying to determine her whereabouts. I found a body at a woman’s house named Carrie…there were cats everywhere…” Caleb rambled. His boss was very quiet on the line. Then, his boss said something, which surprised Caleb. “What kind of cats?” Caleb was taken by surprise. “I don’t know. There were all different kinds. They were everywhere. “His boss grew quiet on the phone. “You’re dealing with an ancient cult called the Abyssinian Elect. I don’t know why they killed Carrie, but they have to be the ones responsible for kidnapping Lillian. I’ve gotten some reports that they have a killing field a few miles south of where you are. Write down the coordinates. I’ll have someone swing by and pick you up with a car and some more weaponry. This isn’t child’s play, Caleb. You’re probably in over your head and Lillian is probably already dead.” The line clicked off.

If Caleb could have punched his supervisor through the telephone, he would have done it. Lillian was a survivor—and more importantly, he needed her. He needed her in a way he couldn’t quite explain. He had dated many women before, but Lillian was different. Her eyes were more perceptive. She was more sensitive and knowing. There was something in her, which drew him to her in a way that he could no longer fight. No matter where she was, he was going to find her.

About an hour passed when a Department 99 agent named Tam pulled up in another black car. “Scoot over,” Caleb commanded—immediately taking the other man’s place behind the steering wheel. Then, Caleb flew the car into reverse, without bothering to explain his plan to Tam. Tam had only been with the department for two months, and Caleb was angry that they would send a newbie to an assignment of such importance.

Caleb continued to floor it backwards down the alleyway until he found what he was looking for – the basketball, and the boy. Caleb pulled up next to the boy, grabbed him beneath the armpits, and sped off as the child wailed and kicked. Yet, they were moving too fast. No one had even seen what had happened.

Tam was mortified and Caleb didn’t have time to give him a long drawn-out explanation. “The boy is possessed, and he knows where Lillian is,” Caleb barked. He pulled the car over and threw the child in the trunk. When the boy tried to get up in order to run away, Caleb pulled out a bottle of holy water. The boy cowered visibly. Tam had never seen anything like it. “Where is she?” Caleb asked. When the boy hesitated, Caleb flicked a few drops of holy water onto his arm. The water hissed and bubbled up on his forearm, forming a huge boil. The boy screamed in pain. “I have eight bottles of this in my car,” Caleb threatened. “Tell me where Lillian is.” Again the boy hesitated and this time Caleb poured a bunch of holy water on top of his head. Again, the child’s skin bubbled up leaving terrible boils. “Jesus,” Tam said out of shock. The boy reached up, clutched his hands over his ears, and screamed. “The cat statue, near the river.” The boy managed to squeak out.

Caleb slammed the hood of the trunk down, leaving the boy inside. He then jumped behind the steering wheel and took off in the direction of a large cat statue that had recently been built next to the Missouri river.

Armond and Lillian had developed a plan. First, they would dig a hole beneath the wall. Then, he would cross over to her side, and they would try and dig their way out for good. The hole was almost big enough. “Okay, give that a try,” Lillian said. A bushy head appeared in the hole, and Lillian watched as Armond tried to snake his way through. He was surprisingly limber, and before she’d realized it, Lillian was face to face with Armond. Some light shined through his side of the hole and Lillian could finally see.

Armond was a tall man, much taller than Caleb and he instinctively reached out and hugged her. Lillian felt guilty, but she couldn’t help but cringe. His stench was unbearable. His entire face was covered in a long beard, and he looked like a walking skeleton. She could see bugs burrowing around in both his scalp and beard.

Lillian immediately offered him the remainder of her sandwich. Armond refused. “Look, you’ve been trapped here for a lot longer than I have,” Lillian said. If we’re going to escape tonight, I need you at your best. Eat it so that you have some more strength,” Lillian said, holding out the remainder of her meal. Armond looked sad for a moment, but then he took the sandwich and scarfed it down.

When he finished, they started to dig again…this time at the northern most end of the wall. Lillian prayed that it led outside, but she had no way of knowing. Yet, she decided to follow Armond’s lead. For a moment, Lillian looked at Armond’s bare back and smiled. For some reason his determination and heart reminded her of Caleb. Caleb would be proud of her. Even if she died in this hellhole, eventually he would find out that she had fought up until her last breath.

Hours passed, and Lillian became less and less certain that they were digging in the right direction until a section of dirt gave way, and finally the cool night air flooded into the cell. Armond clasped his thin hand to his mouth, and tears swelled in his eyes. Between them, they had only four tiles, but it would have to do. Lillian continued to chip away at the dirt in the hole, until finally it was big enough for both of them to squeeze through. When they both crawled through the hole, they remained lying flat on the ground for a long while, catching their breath. There was a chain link fence to the north, and beyond that fence was the Missouri river. A man was standing guard over there, holding a pistol—completely oblivious to their presence.

Lillian quietly raised one finger to her lips. Even though it was dark, they could see by the light of the full moon. Together they crept towards the man, extremely cautious not to draw his attention. Now they were very close, perhaps only three feet away. The man was now sitting with his back to the fence, fiddling with something on his lap. Lillian didn’t like the idea of killing a man who wasn’t even facing them, but they had little choice. Lillian raised the sharp edge of her tile up into the air. For some reason, she hesitated. In that split second, the man spun around and pointed his gun at her face. “How the hell did you get out here?” The guard asked nastily. “I got lost,” Lillian replied sarcastically. The man cocked his gun, getting ready to fire. Yet, Armond didn’t give him the chance. Armond jumped onto the guard as the man fired round after around into his stomach. Lillian took the opportunity to try and help. While the guard concentrated on killing Armond, she drove the edge of her tile deep into his skull. Hot red blood spurted out and covered her hands and face. Repeatedly she drove the tile into the guard’s head until he lay twitching on the ground. Finally, the guard was dead.

Lillian rolled the dead guard off of Armond. He was badly wounded, yet lay there smiling widely. “What a beautiful night,” he said weakly. “Reminds me of the day I met my wife,” he said as he closed his eyes.

Lillian knew instinctively that Armond was dead. She turned to run, but slammed into someone else and was knocked flat on her back. It was Caleb.

For a moment, Lillian was in total disbelief. She grabbed at him and hugged him close. Caleb returned her hug, and then reached down and kissed her passionately. For one brief moment, he held on in the darkness. Then, more shots were fired in the distance. All hell was breaking loose.

Lillian now realized that there was a second layer of barbed wire fencing that she hadn’t been aware of earlier. In order to get out, they were going to have to fight their way through the building. Lillian took one final glance in Armond’s direction and then hooked her elbow through Caleb’s. Slowly and quietly, they moved towards the giant cat structure in the middle of the garden. There was a main house located toward the center of the encampment and Caleb guessed that they would soon find themselves in quite a jam.

Lillian and Caleb quickly approached the house. They were right that there would be trouble, but there were only two guys. One was sitting in a wheelchair with a shotgun across his lap, and the other was shifting into a giant snake. Lillian gasped.

The snake shed its human skin and took off through the front door moving at an alarming speed. It was hunting for something. It was hunting for them.

The exit gate was only a few feet away now. If they could reach it, they could jump the front gate and be out of there in no time at all. Lillian scaled the fence first, and then Caleb climbed over after her. They’d lost sight of the snake, but that was of little importance. Department 99 could bring its swat team in later to take care of business.

Caleb had left Tam sitting in the running black vehicle, and Caleb quickly reached for the car’s door. When he opened it, he almost dropped to his knees. Tam was sitting there, but virtually his entire body was being eaten alive by the snake. Tam’s feet kicked and flailed about as the snake slowly expanded itself to keep swallowing him whole. Caleb was in shock, but Lillian jumped into action. Without even hesitating, she drew her piece of tile up into the air and brought it down on the huge snake that had coiled itself, disgustingly inside the car. Lillian hacked with the piece of tile again; screaming as she brought it down. The snake reared backwards from the pain, and started to regurgitate Tam, who was still alive. The snake quickly slithered out of the car, and Caleb and Lillian stood back-to-back, ready for anything. Caleb drew his gun, and also handed Lillian his long military knife.

The snake first lunged at Lillian, and when it did so, she slashed its face. The monstrous body fell back and then started to retreat. Then Caleb chased it, emptying round after round into the giant body, until it stopped moving and eventually morphed into the body of a little boy. It was the child Caleb had thrown into the trunk. Apparently, he was a possessed snake-shifter.

Both Caleb and Lillian jumped into the car, pushing Tam’s body into the back seat. He was lying back there gasping for air—probably in a state of shock. Right when Caleb was about to press the accelerator, he noticed that there was someone in front of them. It was the man in the wheelchair. He was right in front of their car. The man raised the shot gun and started to fire as Caleb pressed the accelerator and rammed the car into him, while Lillian screamed at the top of her lungs. The blast rang out as the car lunged forward and pieces of glass sprayed all over Lillian’s lap. Then they noticed that man with the shotgun was dead on the side of the road—there was a large piece of tile sticking out of the side of his head and Armond was standing there, holding his guts in, weakly stumbling towards the car. He was alive!

Lillian rushed forward and helped Armond into the vehicle. She noticed that Caleb looked a little bit jealous, which made her smile inwardly.

About an hour later, they found themselves sitting in Caleb’s housing unit. While Tam was badly injured, he was going to live. Armond was in the critical care unit, but seemed to be slowly stabilizing.

The department supervisors had a lot of questions, but most of the answers were simple—the crazy cat cult had presumably been behind most of what had happened. Immediately, Caleb’s boss deployed a few cleanup teams. The civilian population of Kansas City would never even have a clue.

As Lillian sat on Caleb’s bed, she felt vulnerable and unbelievably tired. Yet, there was something about being so close to him that was virtually unbearable. Caleb turned to her. His eyes were intense and angry. “You could have gotten yourself killed, you know,” he spat. “Thank you for always stating the obvious,” Lillian said back. She even surprised herself with the comment—the way it just slid out of her mouth. Caleb rushed over as if he might strike her, but then he lowered his face to hers and pressed his lips against her own. His mouth was warm and his tongue was muscular. He flicked his tongue in and out of her mouth, and Lillian felt her pulse quicken. Then, inwardly her resistance melted away.

Now, Caleb was holding her down. He was on top of her kissing her neck, pulling her shirt away. Lillian moaned, enjoying the rough feel of his skin. The cold air in his room made her nipples stand up erect and Caleb was flicking at them with his tongue. Lillian reached up and lightly bit his lower lip. Caleb responded by biting her back. Then, their bodies locked together—both making out and wrestling one another in some strange fit of passion. “You think you’re tough.” Caleb asked her. His comment hit a nerve. “I am tough,” Lillian responded, a bit wounded. She slapped him playfully across the face and Caleb responded by grabbing her ass. “What you did today was just plain stupid,” Caleb said. His insult was too much. Lillian pushed him away and started to walk out of the room.

Then, a terrible metallic sound rang out and everything went dark.

part 4

LOVE AT LAST

Department 99 headquarters had gone dark before. Power outages were somewhat common, but the generator usually kicked on in less than a minute. Something about this was different. Lillian stood with her hand on the doorknob, eager to leave Caleb’s room, but first she needed to know that it was safe. They waited silently in the darkness. It sounded to Lillian as if Caleb was fishing around for some of his clothes that had come off during their passionate make-out session. The thought made her smile.

Her feelings for Caleb were strong, which is why his insult had so much sting to it. Perhaps she was being overly emotional, but Lillian really wanted to feel as though Caleb respected her. If he thought her deliberate actions were stupid, he couldn’t possibly think much of her as a human being. Lillian felt foolish and vulnerable, breathing in the darkness. She desperately wanted the lights to come back on so that she could make a dramatic exit in order to put him in his place. How else could she keep her pride intact while expressing her hurt? Sometimes, Caleb simply went too far. He needed to know that his words had an effect on her. Yet, Caleb was arrogant and just as headstrong as she was. Even worse, he had probably been right. She shouldn’t have gone to investigate all by herself—not in the middle of an actively violent case.

Caleb flicked a lighter on in the dark room, which he then slowly used to light a small candle. The candle flickered creating a warm orange glow in the little metallic room. If Lillian hadn’t been so wounded, she might have thought it romantic. Regardless, the candle brought a sense of intimacy to the room that seemed to warm her heart a bit. Maybe Caleb didn’t know how to be gentle. Perhaps his years with the department and the bear shifter within him, made him a bit of a brute. Yet, he was a good person. He had done everything within his power to come to her rescue. Perhaps he was upset because he had come very close to losing her. Maybe Caleb’s feelings for her were just as deep as her own. Lillian sighed. If their positions had been reversed, she would have been furious at him for going off hunting for clues without her.

Then, Lillian thought she heard something coming from the other side of the door. There was a distinct scratching sound, and then something else that almost sounded like a low growl. Caleb’s eyes shot up. The bear-shifter in him knew that something was seriously amiss. Danger was nearby. Before Lillian knew what was happening, Caleb was standing in front of the door wearing a menacing grimace. His huge biceps bulged and rippled as he moved from side to side, like a boxer preparing for a fight. The intensity in his eyes was frightening. Then, something else flickered in his eyes and he changed instantaneously. Tiny sprouts of hair started to spawn all over his chest and arms, while his muscles seemed to enlarge. He was shifting. In a matter of seconds, his human form was swallowed up into that of a giant grizzly.

Lillian covered her eyes as Caleb disappeared and the mighty bear appeared before her. He seemed focused on whatever was on the other side of the door and roared fiercely. The sound shook Lillian to her core. Saliva dripped from the corners of Caleb’s bear mouth and he sniffed, grunted, and then roared again. The roar echoed off of the walls and moved through Lillian’s entire body, causing her to shudder. The bear readied itself for battle. Caleb was bloodthirsty.

Lillian wasn’t sure what she should do. Was the greater danger inside with him or outside with whatever was making the strange noise? Lillian slunk back behind Caleb’s bed cowering in the corner. Right after she’d moved out of the way, a terrible blast knocked the door off its hinges and Caleb was slammed up against the wall by an invisible force. The air seemed to cackle and laugh as the invisible force growled and struck him again spitefully. This time, Caleb attacked. He lunged upwards in the air, and actually struck something. Then, with his bear teeth and long claws, he ripped into something invisible. Whatever it was, screamed. It was shrieking like a dying animal- making a shrill, high-pitched sound as Caleb’s teeth gripped the specter and chomped down over and over again. He was ripping at the invisible force with his teeth—and the ghost was obviously wounded because it howled loudly and screamed.

In fact, it looked to Lillian as if the force wanted to retreat—yet Caleb held it tightly between his sharp teeth, slamming it up and down against the floor while locked in his vise grip. Caleb’s bear teeth went in deep.

Lillian wasn’t sure if she should try to make a run for it, or not. Her body felt almost as if it was frozen in place. Then, Caleb’s heavy metal bed flew up to the ceiling and stuck there—held up by another kind of invisible force. The bed slowly inched over until it was directly over Lillian’s head, where it dropped full-force. Lillian reached up and screamed as she covered her head with her arms. The weight of the bed knocked her onto the ground and completely took all of the air out of her lungs. Again, the bed rose up into the air above her.

“No! Please stop!” Lillian shrieked. A demonic voice howled with laughter, savoring every moment of her pain.

Caleb’s eyes met hers for a moment. Even in his bear form, she could see that he was in complete control. He relinquished whatever invisible force he was holding down in order to come to her aid. Caleb swiped at the air and missed. Something knocked him over and dragged him back towards the opposite wall by his neck, as he yelped in pain and flailed about helplessly. It seemed as though the force was strangling him.

Next, a can of gasoline floated into the room. The invisible force started to splash gasoline all over the room. Once again, the metal bed crashed down on Lillian’s body. This time the force was greater and she felt as though she was being crushed alive. She felt something in her right shoulder pop, and her ribs crunched together. The invisible voice was roaring with laughter now, and the candle that Caleb had lit raised itself up into the middle of the room and then dropped onto a puddle of gasoline, which created a loud whooshing sound. Lillian covered her eyes as flames leapt to life all around her.

Caleb was still engaged in his battle when the room started to go up in flames, but suddenly—the force he was fighting retreated as it slammed and re-attached the door. Even though the door had been knocked off the hinges earlier, it’s pieces flew back together and the metal entrance melted together until it formed an impassable wall of steel.

Caleb slowly shifted back to his human form. He was naked now, and looked a bit battered. There was a smattering of blood above his right eye, and his lip was split. Caleb smoothed his hair back from his face and clenched his stomach, feeling both enraged and trapped.

Immediately he took inventory of the situation. They were confined in a room that was on fire. The flames were quickly spreading all over the chamber, and Lillian lay crumpled on the floor. If they were going to survive, he would have to think and act quickly.

Caleb looked over to Lillian and was almost overcome with emotion. There were so many things he’d wanted to say to her, but he’d never been able to find the courage. The feel of her body pressed against his had been the fulfillment of his ultimate fantasy, yet a few of his badly placed words had ruined everything. Caleb felt ashamed, and yet he also felt as though he had been justified in telling her that the choice to go off ghost hunting alone had been foolish. In many ways, Lillian was less experienced than he was, but she was stubborn and headstrong. Caleb understood and respected her strength, but even he wouldn’t have gone to investigate the demon alone. It was just common sense. He could have lost her. Didn’t she know what that would have done to him?

The flames climbed high up into the air, filing the room with thick black smoke. Even though Lillian lay on the floor, it was painful for her to breathe. The smoke choked her as she breathed in, and burned her eyes and nostrils. She thought back to one of her first cases—an unsolved mystery, in which an entire family had been burned alive, allegedly by a ghost. Lillian couldn’t help but remember their twisted charred bodies. She wondered if she would leave behind a similar corpse, and then remembered that she’d never had the courage to tell Caleb the depth of her feelings for him. There were so many things she’d wanted to accomplish in life. It was too bad that everything was going to end like this—with her on the floor, dying of smoke inhalation.

Caleb rushed over and scooped her up into his muscular arms. He snatched the blanket from his bed and covered her head with it, as he charged towards the metal door, holding her body close to his own. Lillian could feel the hard bulge of his muscles as he carried her with ease and slammed into the door. It didn’t budge.

Lillian felt a bit ridiculous, swaddled like a helpless child—but she was in no shape to protest. The bed had done quite a bit of harm when it had slammed down onto her body, and virtually every part of her body ached. Each time she breathed in and out, her ribs sent a sharp pain coursing through her entire torso.

Caleb’s body slammed into the door again and it did not move. He gently laid Lillian on the floor as he started to repeatedly charge into the door with his shoulder. Over and over, Caleb rammed his muscled body into the door. Each time the door refused to move he grunted, and readied himself for yet another attack. It was clear to her that Caleb wasn’t going to give up, yet a part of her just wished he would lay down next to her and hold her hand. If they had to die this way though, at least they would be together.

Caleb coughed from across the room. The smoke was getting to him. He knew that the smart thing to do would be to get down low, and crawl—but he needed the power of his legs if he was going to successful punch his way through.

It seemed that Department 99 was coming alive on the other side of the wall. Someone was barking orders outside while heavy footsteps shuffled about. They were probably rushing off to get equipment, yet Lillian knew that would take too long. They didn’t have much time left.

Lillian pushed the blanket off. The room was filled with thick black smoke now, and she felt that death must be certain. Yet, Caleb was unwilling to give up. He charged into the door repeatedly, until something cracked. Then, the door gave way gradually, and collapsed to the floor with a great thud.

Caleb scooped Lillian up into his arms and carried her across the threshold. Even in her altered state, she could feel the soot and sweat covering his body. It was nice to be close to him. Caleb pressed a kiss long and hard against her lips as she was laid onto a gurney and rushed off to Department 99’s medical unit. As she was rolled away, she could hear the sound of fire extinguishers as they smothered the fire.

The next few hours were a blur. Doctors and nurses appeared over her and busied themselves doing countless things to her body. The greatest relief came when an oxygen mask was lowered onto her face. Then, something sharp pricked her right arm and everything went black.

When Lillian awoke, she found that she was sitting alone in her office in the dark. She leaned back in the chair and squinted at the photo of a small boy, Finn—the possessed child. The boy who had started all of this. It was a sad case. She felt a deep sense of despair as she reclined in the chair feeling helpless. Finn was probably going to die.

Then, Lillian heard footsteps behind her. When she turned around, she came face to face with an older gentleman dressed entirely in white. For a moment, neither of them spoke. They just stood there staring intently at one another. Then, the old man sighed deeply and then gave her a slight smile. “I was never involved in the occult,” the old man said. “I was more of your average Joe. I liked football.” The ghost said. Lillian chuckled. “Even brutes like Cerebus have hearts though,” the man in white said. His face turned serious. “Do you understand what I’m telling you, Lillian?” he asked. “Destroy the heart.”

Lillian woke up to find that she was still on the gurney. It had been some kind of vision or dream, but it had been enough. The ghost had given her valuable information. In order to destroy the demon, she had to destroy its heart. Of course, that was more easily said than done, but it was at least a good starting place. It was a valuable hint.

A nurse started a saline IV drip in her arm, and Lillian looked over at her own heart monitor. It was beeping steadily. She was going to live.

“You’ve got a good strong rhythm,” the nurse said in response to Lillian’s stern facial expression. “Caleb certainly saved your life,” the nurse added.

Lillian’s face reddened. She’d been so caught up in trying to understand the meaning behind her vision that she’d forgotten about Caleb. “Where is he?” Lillian asked the nurse. The woman smiled gently. “He’s sitting right out there in the hallway sweetie. You’ve been here over a day and a half and he’s been sitting right outside your door in the same chair the entire time.”

Lillian felt a wave of guilt. Caleb had saved her life and was obviously very concerned about her. Perhaps his admonishment earlier hadn’t been the nasty sexist remark she’d taken it for. Maybe he was just really worried about her. Lillian started going over things in her head. She thought about what she should say to Caleb. He was right—she’d almost gotten herself killed.

The door inched itself open slowly. Lillian had expected to see a doctor or a second nurse standing in front of her, but it was Caleb. He stood in front of her wearing a blank expression, as the nurse quickly disappeared from the room.

He was still covered in soot. It looked as though someone had tended to the cut on his face, and secretly she hoped it hadn’t been a young pretty female. Caleb licked his lips as he looked down at her. His eyes seemed ice cold, and yet somehow smoldering hot at the same time. Someone had given him a plain white t-shirt, it was stretched taught, barely containing his muscular frame. Lillian could clearly see the cut of his shoulders and chest through the soft material. Before Lillian could decide on how to best break the silence, Caleb spoke.

“You were right in what you said to me. I should have talked to you with more respect. I’m sorry about that…I was just…really affected by what happened to you.” Caleb looked down and started to stammer. Lillian wasn’t prepared for this. She had expected him to stand his ground—but now he was showing her a sensitive side, and she felt as though she were melting into the bed.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Caleb said as he rushed out of the room. A few moments later, he returned with a small brown teddy bear. He gently placed the bear into Lillian’s hand.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. It was all she could manage. Then, she remembered the dream. After a few moments, she asked Caleb to pull up a chair so that she could tell him the details. When she finished, he didn’t seem the least bit surprised.

“So I guess we’ve got two valuable pieces of information from your dream. We know that the name of the demon is Cerebus, and we know that we have to destroy its heart. I’m going to call my boss so that we can start putting a team together. You rest,” Caleb said as he sauntered out of the room with his cellphone already in his hand.

While Department 99 hadn’t expected that a case of a simple demonic possession would have turned into such a major ordeal, the agency was ready and capable of dealing with virtually anything. Caleb was tasked with putting together a team. He knew he needed to create the correct mixture of muscles and brainpower in order to defeat Cerebus. For that reason, Lillian was the very first person who came to mind. Anyway, the demon had already attacked her on a variety of occasions, which meant that she was already a part of this whether he liked it or not. Maybe they could use her as bait to lure the demon into acting out. Regardless, he would be able to keep an eye on her if she were nearby.

Caleb thought long and hard about the best and brightest within the agency. Agent Killian Marshall was out on assignment abroad, but there were a few other people that could certainly get the job done. Caleb smiled to himself. They were going to defeat this demon, and he was going to take pleasure in destroying something that had wreaked so much havoc, and had harmed so many innocent people. The demon deserved what was coming to it.

Two days later, Caleb’s group gathered in a meeting room inside Department 99 headquarters. Lillian was there, and she looked unbelievably beautiful. She had a few cracked ribs, but the doctor had given her clearance to join the team. She sat in a chair cross-legged and conversed with Caleb’s friend Rock. Across from the two of them, an older woman named Manuela was seated. She held a long line of beads in one hand and seemed to be chanting something in a foreign language. She spoke the same words over and over softly, as if in meditation. Next to her, a medium built man named Harold cleaned his gun. He kept an unlit cigarette behind his ear, and he seemed to be muttering some kind of tune to himself about a sailor and a cute girl. Beside him sat a woman named Bea, who was part vampire. Bea’s eyes glowed in the dimly lit room and Lillian couldn’t help but feel a little surge of jealousy at how beautiful the woman was. Caleb had also brought two interns on-board, Jordan and Valery. They talked together quietly, seeming excited about what might come next.

In the middle of the circle of chairs, there was a small ancient looking cabinet. None of them seemed particularly amused by the cabinet—but soon Caleb was going to debrief them all on the plan. They would have to execute this operation flawlessly if everyone was to survive. They were fighting a very dangerous entity. Caleb shifted his glance over to Lillian again. She was beautiful, undeniably sexy, and seemed at ease. One of her legs was crossed over the other and she rocked her leg back and forth seductively. For a moment, Caleb feared that she might be flirting with Rock—but then she looked over at him and winked. He felt his face redden a bit. She was toying with him, and he wanted nothing more than to take her upstairs right now and give her a taste of her own medicine. For a moment, Caleb indulged himself in the fantasy. He imagined himself lifting her up pressed against the wall and pushing her panties to one side with his thumb. He shook the image out of his head.

Caleb coughed and gestured to everyone. Immediately the room fell silent. He took a seat next to Lillian in the circle of chairs that had been set up, and began to speak. “I’m sure all of you know by now that I’ve been assigned the task of setting up a demon hunting cadre. If you’re here, it’s because you have something that we need. We’re dealing with a particularly nasty demon, and I’m going to need your very best if we’re going to take this thing down.” When Caleb mentioned that he’d picked the best both Jordan and Valery smiled at each other pridefully. They were overly ambitious and were thinking about the glory associated with this particular mission, and not the danger that they would face. The interns were inexperienced, but they did have a lot to offer as far as their fresh perspectives. Plus, Department 99 didn’t offer interns life insurance, which made them a low-cost alternative.

Rock grunted. Caleb nodded in his direction. He and Rock were old friends and he was one of the few men that Caleb trusted with his own life. “Rock, you’re going to be assigned to Lillian’s protection detail. She’s made the most contact with the demon, but it seems to be particularly hostile towards her. We need to keep her alive so that we can communicate with the other entities that surround the demon. I’ll need you with her 24 hours a day—even during down time.” Rock nodded. Everyone in the room now looked at Lillian, and she didn’t appreciate their glares. Couldn’t Caleb have told Rock privately that this was the plan? Was it really necessary to let the entire team know that the demon seemed to have a hard-on for causing her pain?

“Does anyone know what this thing is in front of you?” Caleb asked, while kicking the little cabinet lightly with his foot. Jordan looked down and put on a pair of thick-rimmed glasses.

“It appears to be some kind of 17th century relic with Hebrew carvings on it,” Jordan offered. Not to be outdone, Valery slid forward and took a closer look.

“It’s covered in the different Hebrew names for God,” Valery said.

“Very good,” Caleb answered.

“I know what it is,” Manuela said softly. Caleb had almost forgotten that she was there. She was such a quiet and strange woman. “It’s a container for the demon. You want us to capture it,” the words squeaked out of Manuela’s mouth. Jordan ad Valery looked at each other and smiled, while Harold’s expression turned angry.

“I thought this thing was a dangerous demon. Why does Department 99 want to put it in a box? Why not just cast it out?” Harold asked, his face reddening.

“If we cast it out, you all know that it’s just a matter of time before it finds its way back. And you also know that it will wreak all kinds of havoc in the meantime.” Caleb said smartly. He was right. The only certain way of ridding themselves from the demon for good was to make sure that it was either destroyed or completely contained.

Bea sniffed the air for a moment. Her vampire senses had caught the strong smell of fear. There was no doubt about the fact that it was emanating from Harold. He was visibly shaking with terror. Silently, Bea hoped that Caleb hadn’t made a mistake in adding Harold to the team. Harold had a reputation for drawing his weapon too quickly.

“Manuela, what can you sense about this relic and about the demon?” Caleb asked her. Manuela took a deep sigh and hesitated for a moment. She seemed to make contact with the quiet in the room, and seemed to distance herself from the rest of them for a few minutes. She pulled at her string of beads and made a connection with something inwardly, and then slowly opened her eyelids and began to speak.

“His name is Cerebus and he’s protected by a group of four spirits. He lies to them, and he’s convinced them that by following him they will be able to return to their old physical forms. One is named Cain, and he refers to himself as the destroyer. There is another one there named Ries; she mistakenly believes herself to be a god, but she is actually a human soul that was been blinded by her own rage. One is called Onus, and there’s someone there named Chachi. I can’t really see much about him.”

When Lillian heard Manuela say the name Chachi, her stomach turned sour. Now there was no doubt that Chachi was involved in this, but why? Lillian turned to Manuela, who still seemed to be lost in prayer.

“How did Chachi fall in with this group?” Lillian asked. Manuela went into some kind of trance.

“There was a cult of people who worshipped the cat. They kidnapped Lillian because they had hoped to draw the demon out and put him into her body so that they could destroy him.” So, bizarrely enough she and her kidnappers had actually been fighting on the same side—against Cerebus. Yet, the cat cult was going about it in a particularly insidious way that involved human sacrifice in the killing fields.

Manuela paused for a moment and drew in a deep breath. “Chachi first made contact with Onus as a child, after he accidentally killed a boy out on the playground. Onus is the slayer of children.” Manuela’s voice was slow and even. Her eyes stared off into nothingness.

This information was somewhat useful. It at least helped to explain why the demonic possession of children had played such a big role in the case. Perhaps when Chachi had accidentally murdered the child, Onus had come to him. Maybe that was when he’d given himself over to the darkness.

Lillian studied Caleb’s expression. His face was so serious. He was obviously intent on solving this case and ending all of the misery that the demon had inflicted thus far. Lillian couldn’t help but admire his resolve, as well as other things. She remembered the hard feel of his muscular body against hers and the way he had kissed her— so desperate, so pure, after they had managed to escape the burning room. Lillian knew that were it not for Caleb, she would most certainly be dead.

Bea looked over at Lillian and smiled. Lillian got the eerie feeling that Bea had just read her thoughts and she didn’t like it. Her last ghost hunting expedition had ended in disaster, and Lillian silently hoped that Caleb had managed to pick a strong group of people this time. The last thing she needed to deal with was a creepy vampire, invading her mind.

Harold leaned back in his chair and sighed. Then, he slowly started to pick his nose while staring at Lillian. Something seemed a bit off about him. Harold then flicked his booger across the room and looked at Caleb again.

“So what did you need a sharp shooter like myself for?” Harold asked.

Caleb sighed. “If we can manage to get some of these spirits back into their physical form, you might be able to shoot them—but you’ll probably only get one chance, so I needed someone that wouldn’t miss.” Caleb winked. Harold seemed satisfied by Caleb’s answer. Rock grumbled and shifted in his chair for a moment. His large muscles moved with him, and the small chair beneath him looked as if it might collapse under the weight of his hefty frame. Caleb and Rock were sharing the same thought. They both knew that it was highly unlikely that everyone on the team would survive.

Here they were, all filing back into Finn’s house, the young boy who had enjoyed the misfortune of a demonic possession and had managed to kill off most of the team that had preceded them. Lillian would never be able to forget the images of what Finn had done. On the outside, he looked like a small innocent child dressed in Superman pajamas, but he was a conduit for the demonic realm and was capable of tremendous destruction. Just the sight of him made her feel sick.

This time around, Caleb had taken extra precautions. Both of Finn’s parents and his sisters had been sent away to an undisclosed location. Caleb wanted to be sure that the demon wouldn’t be able to bring them into the equation again. They were going to do this by the book, and would make sure to leave no loopholes this time.

Department 99 had outfitted each member of the cadre with armor and weaponry. Some of the weapons were religious relics that would harm the demon, and others were just blades forged with holy water and various other materials of significance. As they prepared to fight, Manuela walked about the house, sealing every doorframe and windowsill with salt. They wanted to be sure that when they were finally forced to do battle with the demon, they didn’t want it to be able to call for help. The special salt was infused with holy water and oils, and this way, additional demons would not be able to cross into the home in order to wreak more havoc. Finn also would not be able to leave.

As Manuela went about her work sealing the home, Rock searched the home for weapons. He wanted to make sure there were no knives or guns present. The family had a few small tools, but that was about it.

As the group prepared for battle, Bea took on a different role. She went from room to room, and sniffed around for bloodstains that smelled of fear. The vast majority of blood that had been spilled inside the house was in Finn’s bedroom, but there was also a significant amount inside the upstairs attic. Demons were fed by fear, and Cerebus would choose one of these two places to launch his attack because in these locations he would be the strongest. After Bea shared her findings with the team, Manuela placed extra salt in these locations, as well as a few more relics.

While everyone else moved around, Lillian watched Caleb. She hoped that after all of this was over, they might have a chance to take whatever this thing was between them and turn it into a real relationship. There was no doubt that her body longed for his touch, and wanted to simply be near him. There was something inside of her that always seemed to pull her back to Caleb. She desired him in a way that she had never felt before. For the past two days, she hadn’t been able to stop daydreaming about Caleb taking her in his arms again and kissing her just as he had done after he’d carried her out of the flaming room. Caleb was cool and collected under pressure, but what really struck her was the amount of compassion within him. He seemed genuinely concerned for Finn’s fate, and was dead set on destroying the demon, Cerebus. His level of intensity and focus was admirable.

Caleb caught Lillian’s glance across the room. He had made sure to give the impression that the was not concerned, but deep inside he was worried for her. For whatever reason, the demon seemed fixated on Lillian and had launched all kinds of attacks on her. Caleb was sure that another attack would come later that evening, and he felt uneasy. He sighed deeply. He had assigned Rock to her—and he knew that the burly muscular man would keep her safe at virtually any cost. Caleb would do the same. It would be so easy to take her into his arms and to just walk away with her. A part of him wanted to flee his life in Department 99. Yes, they were agents sworn to protect the public—but they were also humans, and they needed a break. Working for Department 99 just meant a lifetime of moving from one catastrophe to the next, and suddenly Caleb found himself fantasizing about life with Lillian outside of this world. Perhaps they could build a little cabin out in the woods somewhere. Maybe he’d get her pregnant, and she’d give birth to a few little shifter children, that might even also be blessed with her good looks. Maybe after this was over, they could find a way to be happy together in the long run.

Caleb glanced at Finn, suddenly remembering why they were there. Finn was spinning in circles, laughing, and playing with some kind of invisible playmate. Finn picked up a little ball from the floor and tossed it up in the air. The ball stuck there for a moment and then tossed itself back down to Finn, who laughed and giggled.

The demon had to know that they were about to attack—but it wanted them to know that it wasn’t concerned. Instead, it was biding its time playing catch with Finn.

In part, Lillian wanted to stop Finn from playing with the demon—yet, the damage had already been done. His soul was already in peril, and a simple game of catch wasn’t going to change that. Nonetheless, it disturbed Lillian so see Finn so engrossed in play with the entity.

After about an hour, the team was ready for battle. Everyone knew their responsibilities, and they had all agreed to watch each other’s backs. Manuela had researched the demon Cerebus, and had shared her findings with the group. He was one of the original fallen angels, and was thus one of the most dangerous they would ever encounter. Yet, all of them were willing to put their lives on the line in order to save Finn and to stop the madness that the demon was causing. After all, they were all Department 99 agents, and were no strangers to danger.

At the last minute, Caleb decided that they should do battle with the spirit in the living room—the place farthest away from where the strongest fear signatures were located in the house. Manuela poured a small circle of salt in the middle of the room, and then put a larger circle of salt around the inner one. She’d left a small gap in each circle, intentionally not closing either one all of the way. Without warning, Bea grabbed a hold of Finn by the shoulder and tossed him into the innermost circle. Then, Manuela quickly poured salt down at the gaps—completely enclosing the boy in the two circles. The demon must have expected them to do this, because Finn simply sat down and started to suck his thumb. He did not even try to get out of the two circles.

“I’ve never seen this kind of reaction before,” Manuela whispered to Caleb. “Usually they’re willing to do just about anything to get away from the salt,” Manuela added.

“Well, let’s try and make the demon a little more desperate.” Caleb shrugged and took a few relics out of his pocket. He threw them inside the innermost circle with Finn. When Caleb did this, it was almost as if an explosion went off inside the house. There was a loud boom that shook the very foundation of the building. The noise was so load, it was almost like the roaring of jet—and it moved through Lillian in a way that made her uneasy. Now Finn was lying flat on his back in the middle of the circle. Dark red blood was flowing out of his nose, and he appeared to be unconscious. The two interns had never seen anything like it.

“Shouldn’t one of us go in and check his pulse?” Jordan asked.

“He doesn’t look like he’s breathing right now,” Valery added sounding worried.

Caleb was about to answer, but Lillian jumped in. “Demons are tricksters. It wants us to go into the circle, because Cerebus knows that he isn’t able to come out. We need to continue with the ceremony at any cost—even if the demon decides to kill Finn. No one goes inside the circle for any reason.”

Caleb was shocked at how cold her voice sounded, but he also admired her. She knew the games that creatures within the realm of the occult sometimes liked to play, and she wasn’t going to allow any of them to put their lives in jeopardy unnecessarily. Lillian also understood that there was a high likelihood that Finn would not survive. The interns were visibly shaken.

“We’re just going to let him die?” Jordan asked, sounding outraged.

“No. The plan is to save his life, but sometimes it just isn’t possible,” Lillian retorted. Jordan pushed his thick glasses back towards the bridge of his nose. The reality of battle with a demon was a sobering one. Valery wasn’t as easily swayed.

“He’s just a kid. How can you have so little compassion?” Valery asked Lillian.

Caleb jumped in. “It’s not a matter of not having compassion. If you go into that circle, you’ll die. If you die, the demon will just take life after life—countless children. It’s a matter of common sense.”

Caleb’s admonishment was a bit harsh, but he was correct. Bea the vampire, was leaning against the wall watching everything unfold, when she suddenly stood up straight and sniffed the air. Caleb caught her glance. Bea slowly shook her head from side to side. The other spirits were here.

The first spirit to attack was Ries. She was human, but the demon had convinced her that she was a god. Her human soul had been driven to the brink of insanity. With some kind of channeled power from Cerebus, Ries momentarily took on a human form. Strangely enough, she took the physical form of a Native American woman with long dark black hair. Instead of engaging anyone in battle, Ries ran towards the boy lying in the middle of the circle. Rock wielded a giant knife and stepped in front of Lillian while the others drew their weapons. The circles had done their job. When Ries hit the outer circle, it was as if she had hit an invisible barrier. She was knocked onto the ground with a loud thump. Then, she lunged at Valery.

Lillian squinted her eyes and waited for the sound of their bodies clattering to the floor, but it didn’t come. Instead, Ries simply slipped inside of Valery, who immediately started flailing around.

“Get it out of me!” Valery screamed as she flailed around, trying to buck the spirit out of her body. Manuela took some holy water out of her purse and splashed it on Valery. “You bitch!” Valery screamed as her skin bubbled up- she was horrifically burned and some of her scalp had fallen away.

“Valery, stop flailing around!” Caleb demanded.

“Get it out of me!” Valery continued to scream. Now she was moving towards the boy. Finn’s hands were outstretched and Valery’s body moved against her will. She was inching her way towards the circle, ready to sweep the salt away at any moment. It was clear that the spirit inside of her wanted her to break the circles, so that Finn could escape.

Valery’s body slowly inched towards the salt, as everyone in the room started to scream. Rock grabbed her ankles and pulled her back, and she flipped up and punched him square in the chest. Rock grabbed his chest and sunk to the ground.

Jordan started to scream, but it was of no use. The Valery that he had known was no longer in charge. Jordan dove to the ground and grabbed Valery’s ankle. Again, she popped up. Yet, this time instead of punching him—Valery quickly wrapped both of her arms around his neck and pulled until there was a loud popping sound. Jordan’s limp body sunk to the floor.

Then, a sharp bang filled the air. Harold lowered his gun as Valery sunk to the ground—a bullet lodged in her skull right between her eyes. The circle was unbroken.

Both Valery and Jordan were dead. Lillian was visibly shaken, yet Caleb demanded that they all press on. She admired his courage. Caleb was willing to do virtually anything in order to destroy this dangerous entity, and he was not deterred despite the deaths of the interns. Lillian glanced down at Valery’s body. Dark red blood seeped out of the hole in her head. The blood was pouring out, and before Lillian could scream—it had happened. The blood had washed away a section of both the inner and outer circles.

As if on cue, Finn sat up and dove out of the circle, laughing. At first, his laugh sounded like that of a child, and then the sound darkened and turned malevolent. Cerebus was mocking them.

The team filed into the kitchen and covered the frame of the door with salt. Cerebus wouldn’t be able to follow them in there. Yet, now they needed to come up with a new plan quickly. Traditional methods didn’t seem to be working. No one on the team had ever seen a spirit regain its human form like that. Clearly, Cerebus was playing by a different set of rules.

While they talked, Caleb’s hand lightly brushed against Lillian’s. She wondered if he had simply touched her accidentally, but knew that the touch had been intentional when it came a second time.

Finn started to cry. Obviously, something was going on out in the living room. If Cerebus decided to kill Finn, they would lose their link to the demonic realm. They had to keep the boy alive as long as possible.

Their plan wasn’t exactly well thought out—there was no time for that. Rock would defend Lillian at all costs, while Manuela would try a few chants to draw the demon out of Finn. If any of the spirits took human form again, Caleb and Bea would be the first to try to fight them off.

The small team filed back into the living room and was shocked at what they encountered. The form of the Native American woman was back. Next to her, there was a yellow haired man with red bloodshot eyes, and a man dressed like a mobster—that must have been Chachi. Cain had his arms wrapped around Finn’s neck, and the boy’s face was turning a horrible shade of reddish purple. They needed to act fast.

Even with all of their plans, utter chaos ensued. Manuela forgot half of the words to her chants and just started throwing holy water around. It helped though—each time the water splashed onto one of the unclean spirits, it burned them. Somehow, they had taken physical form though, which was worrisome. Caleb dove towards Finn and wrestled with the man with the yellow hair. He identified himself as Cain, and lifted Caleb off of the ground with one hand. In a matter of minutes, Bea was face down on the floor with Ries stomping on the back of her head. At that moment, both Lillian and Rock rushed forward towards Caleb. Their combined attack made Cain drop Caleb, and yet it seemed as though they could not harm him. Cain’s eyes were a terrible shade of red, and his lower jaw dropped open—wasps started to fly out of his mouth. They flooded into the room.

As the wasps flooded into the room, Ries and Chachi started to laugh. They stopped kicking Bea for a moment, in order to assess the damage. Perhaps they had taken Bea for dead, or maybe they just didn’t care about her in that moment. Either way, they had made a deadly mistake. As soon as their backs were turned. Bea leapt up to her feet and unsheathed her dagger. She drove to sharp edge straight through the back of Ries’ neck, and then swung the blade around. It caught in Chachi’s stomach and he stumbled back and disappeared. Chachi wasn’t dead, but Ries most certainly was. Ries let out a low scream as flames slowly started to engulf her body. The scent of burning flesh filled the room, and then a hole opened up beneath her and she was sucked down into the floor.

The battle raged on. Now all of their efforts were focused on Cain. His demonic red eyes were unsettling. Bea lunged for Cain with her dagger and he caught her arm in mid-air and then snapped it backwards. Bea screamed and collapsed to the ground as the sound of bones crunching filled the air. Manuela heaved a jar of holy water at Cain and when it hit him, his skin immediately turned a fiery shade of red, boiled up to the surface, and started to smoke. Rock and Caleb took the opportunity to attack. They both drew daggers and started to stab at Cain. The wounds they inflicted seemed to make little difference. Then, Manuela approached—slowly muttering a chant. It was obvious that the older woman was terrified, yet she would not be deterred.

illian noticed that Manuela had a bunch of salt in her hand. The old woman was repeating all of the names for God. Then, she threw the salt into Cain’s face with all her might. The salt moved through his form like bullets. Cain screamed at the top of his lungs while hundreds of holes the size of pinheads cut through his body. A cloud of red blood formed at the back of his figure. Despite her broken arm, Bea grabbed a dagger with her other hand and buried it deep in Cain’s chest. Cain’s head rolled backwards and he screamed. More wasps continued to fly out of his mouth, but it was finished. His body erupted into flames, and was then sucked into some kind of black vortex. Onus and Chachi were the last ones left before they could get to Cerebus. They were almost there. All of the wasps that had entered the room immediately vanished.

Chachi had reappeared sitting cross-legged on the living room couch. He was clapping slowly. “Well done, guys…really and truly. I couldn’t have done it better myself.” Just the sight of him made Lillian feel enraged. She wanted to lunge onto him and rip his throat out. Then she noticed that Finn was sitting silently at his left side. A thump came from the back of the room, and a giant man filed in. This was Onus, the child killer. There was no doubt about that.

Just the sight of Onus filled Harold with rage. He pulled his gun and held his breath, readying himself to pull the trigger. Onus smiled back. Then, against his will—Harold turned the gun around and placed it up to his own temple. “No!” Harold screamed as he pulled the trigger and blew his own brains out.

When Onus walked into the room, the entire place became ice cold and Lillian could see her breath. She looked over at Caleb, but his eyes were solidly fixed on Onus. Onus’ form was huge, but he moved quickly. Bea grabbed her dagger, and before anyone could stop her, she lunged at Onus. It was a brave move, but a foolish one. He swiped her with one hand and she flew across the room and then clattered to the floor with a thump—dead. Onus had his eyes fixed on Lillian now. She could feel his ice-cold eyes on her. Onus took a few steps in her direction and then Rock dove at him. Rock’s effort was valiant. He pulled his dagger out and began to stab, yet Onus caught his fist in midair and simply crushed his hand. Then, the spirit made eye contact with Lillian and smiled as he ripped Rock’s still beating heart out of his chest. Rock dropped to the ground, dead. Caleb rushed forward in order to put himself between Lillian and the horrible entity. With one giant swipe, the entity knocked Caleb aside. He clattered to the floor and hit his head against the living room table. When Caleb tried to stand up, Chachi jumped to his feet and held him back.

Now, it was just Lillian and Onus, as Manuela cowered in the corner of the room. Onus ran forward and Lillian drew her knife. The first blow from Onus felt like ice. Somehow, she had ended up flat on her back, and was swinging her limbs wildly. Onus was above her, laughing. Then, in a moment of clarity, Lillian grabbed a handful of the salt that had destroyed Cain. She flung it at Onus with all of her might. The spirit screamed. This time, his skin started to melt where he had made contact with the salt. Manuela steeled her nerves and rushed over. She pressed a relic to the entity’s chest and Onus wailed as his form erupted in flames.

Chachi was the only spirit left.

Chachi had stopped fighting with Caleb and was now standing glaring at them. He placed an arm around Finn.

“Why have you attached yourself to this innocent?” Manuela screamed.

Chachi blinked, “This is my son. I’ve been trying to protect him, you idiots.” Lillian felt as though she was ready to pass out. The similarities between the two of them were striking. They had the same dark brown eyes, the same widow’s peak, and even now wore the same expression. They hadn’t planned for this.

Manuela didn’t care if they were father and son or not. She emptied a bottle of holy water all over Chachi…but was stunned when it had no effect.

“Thanks, I’ve been needing a shower,” Chachi said. Then he turned to Finn, “I want you to listen to these people, son.” Chachi said as he knelt down to Finn’s level. “I’ll always love you,” Chachi said as he embraced Finn in a deep hug. Then, a white light started to fill the room. “I did some bad things in my day,” Chachi said. “It never sat right with me though.”

“But you tried to kill me!” Lillian shouted. “That wasn’t me. That was him.” Chachi pointed to the far corner of the room. “Remember Lillian,” Chachi said.. “you’ve got to have heart.” Chachi’s ghost walked into the light and disappeared.

Finally, they were face to face with Cerebus. Much to Lillian’s surprise, he had merely taken the form of a black shadow. “You will leave this child alone!” Manuela screamed at the entity. Cerebus laughed. Lillian recognized the horrible sound.

Lillian pulled Finn back behind her, and she linked her hand with Caleb, who then linked the palm of his hand to Manuela’s. Then, the demon flew at them, yet somehow was pushed backwards. Together their combined forces were enough. Manuela chanted and Lillian joined in. She didn’t know what she was saying, but knew that it was working. Cerebus was screaming at the top of his lungs, shaking the very foundation of the house as he flung his shadowed form at them from various sides of the room. For some reason, Lillian started to think about her love for Caleb. Even though things had been less than perfect, he was such a kind and gentle soul. In a way, Caleb completed her.

“The union of two soul mates!” Manuela screamed. “Hold tight to one another!” Manuela let go of Caleb’s hand and took a step forward. “I send you back to hell!” Manuela screamed. A strong wind blew through the room. Both Caleb and Lillian stepped forward and each placed a hand on Manuela’s shoulder. Manuela put her hands up in front of her and the demon slammed back into the wall. Then, she slowly parted her hands and the demon flew apart, limb-by-limb and was engulfed in flames. Cerebus screamed as he sank down into the floor. A pit opened up beneath him, and he was sucked inside as he wailed in agony.

“Is it over now?” Finn’s little voice asked from behind them. Lillian scooped him up into her arms and hugged him close. “Yes—it’s finally over,” she said.

Back at the department, Caleb grabbed Lillian’s hand in his and led her back to an empty room. The entire room was lit with candles. It was apparently Caleb’s new bedroom. He couldn’t wait any longer to claim the woman that captivated his head and his heart. Wordlessly, he lifted her up on her knees onto the bed.

She closed her eyes and let herself feel the moment. She felt his warm breath against her lips seconds before his mouth covered hers hungrily sending waves of passion flowing through her. She parted her lips inviting his tongue to sweep inside her mouth.

Her hands moved to his shoulder for support. Heat radiated off of his sculpted body. Lillian reached forward and pulled Caleb’s shirt up over his head and tossed it into the corner of the room. Then she did the same with her own.

His hands moved down along her back, down her rear to her thighs lifting one in each of his huge hands. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed her core against his rock-hard bulge. Through the damp panties and jeans that covered her aching center, she could feel his erection pulsing with need which sent tingles of pleasure fluttering through her belly.

His strong fingers dug into her hips; his kisses swallowing her moans. She rolled her hips against his hard pulsing erection. She clutched at him. She couldn’t get enough. They had waited too damn long for this.

Passion spread through them until it became a fiery inferno. Electricity crackled between them. Caleb glanced down, taking a sharp breath in. Lillian's soft smooth mounds swelled above the line of her lacy black bra. Her cheeks tinged with a lovely little tint of honest passion.

He snapped the clasp of her bra and let her breasts loose. Caleb let out a groan at the sight of her and his mouth descended on a rosebud pink nipple. She shuddered and arched against his mouth.

Not only was Lillian highly aroused, but she also felt safe and secure, even while her heart was pumping hard in her chest. This was amazing, experiencing Caleb’s rough, yet gentle hands along her back, her chest and the ultra-sensitive nipples.

A soft bite made her gasp, goosebumps rising along her flesh, though rather than pull away, she leaned into it. His affectionate touches were getting... Rougher? She glanced at him. Caleb cupped her ass with one hand and pressed his lips against hers with a fierce hunger. Lillian let out a shaky moan as he nibbled her bottom lip. Her body leaned into him deepening the kiss of her own accord.

God, she wanted this man. She wanted all of him.

His grip became stronger and he firmly squeezed and massaged her breasts. How could a man handle her breasts so gently and yet so roughly? He raked his fingertips along her sensitive skin, leaving pleasure-filled welts, and scraped gently over her nipples. He pinched her tightly pebbled nipples between his thumb and forefinger as his mouth began a sweet assault of her neck.

He kissed, licked, sucked, and nipped at the flesh of her neck. Her body was writhing in pleasure as Caleb raked his teeth down to her throat while his strong hands massaged the underside of her breasts and flicked her nipples.

“Caleb, please, I... Mmm...” a whisper of a cry left Lillian's lips, but Caleb continued pleasuring her, roughly twisting her nipple, before stroking it soothingly. Every inch of her body felt alive with the electricity of his touch.

His hand slid over her stomach creeping its way downward while the other hand continued to stroke her breast. Effortlessly, he unsnapped her jeans and pushed them down past her hips. His eyes were now watching her reaction. Lillian's eyes met Caleb's and she moaned as his hand dipped suddenly down, fingers brushing over the lips of her pussy through her panties.

Her body jerked and writhed against his teasing fingers in anticipation. The corner of his mouth turned up before he leaned in to place another bite on her neck.

“Mmmm, you’re so wet for me,” Caleb whispered against her ear. His hand ripped her panties off of her body. Lillian tried to summon a glare for him, but couldn’t quite manage it when his finger suddenly slipped inside her. Another shaky sound left her throat and he swiftly pressed his mouth to hers, muffling the sound and grinning lightly against her lips. He swallowed down every sound she made, relishing her muffled moans of bliss. Her body arched against his hand begging for more.

His finger moved slowly, grinding deep within and sliding back out slowly, and then he added a second finger, filling her completely. Her insides clenched snugly at his digits. She was practically purring, lost in the blinding pleasure of his touch. When his thumb brushed against her clit, her eyes widened at the shocks of pleasure that shot through her body. His thumb massaged circles around her clit as his fingers thrust into and back out of her pussy, making her toes curl from the pleasure. She could feel the warm tingle building and building, her eyes were watering from her body’s hyper- arousal. She felt light-headed from the overwhelming sensations.

Lillian struggled to speak, and when she could get the words out, her voice was low and thick with passion. “Fuck me, Caleb.”

In seconds, the bear shifter had his pants and shorts down and yanked hers off of her ankles. He teased her with the head of his large cock rubbing it against her folds and her sensitive nub. He had wanted this woman for so long, dreamed of this very moment, he was afraid that he might just cum as soon as his engorged cock filled her.

“Fuck me Caleb,” she cried again and he couldn’t stop himself from plunging in her warm moist depths.

He thrust his cock deep inside and then withdrew himself slowly before plunging back inside her pussy until his pelvis ground against hers and he gyrated his pelvis against her clit before pulling his cock slowly back out again. Lillian could feel the electric tingle start in her belly and she tried to warn him, but his mouth covered her hers. A firm bite of her lower lip made her fall apart.

Her scream was muffled by his mouth, her body arched and her fingers dug into his back. She felt herself reflexively tremble. The searing pleasure that started in her core shot through her to every nerve ending in her body. She felt herself go momentarily deaf as though she were floating completely submerged under water. Caleb was aware of each tiny reaction. He curled his arm around her tightly, holding her securely as he continued to pump his girth into her pulsing pussy, making damn sure that she was spent.

Seconds later, Caleb released himself in shooting spasms of ecstasy. Lillian's thrashing eventually stopped and she collapsed back against the arm that held her. Her breathing was shallow, her body still a spasmodic delight of sensations.

Caleb reveled in the look on her face- a hint of a smile bathed in the warm afterglow of intense release. He would love nothing more than to be the man who put that look on her face every day for the rest of her life.

An hour later, Caleb and Lillian appeared hand in hand at a party thrown in their honor by Department 99. Toasts were made in their honor, and Lillian was tossed up onto someone’s shoulder’s as the crowd cheered, “hip hip hooray!” Loud music filled the halls as agents danced and joyously ran around with drinks in hand. They had defeated Cerebus, saved Finn, and put all of the other spirits involved to rest.

Lillian managed to catch Caleb’s glance from across the room. She was at once filled with the warm sensation of safety and of home. Perhaps they could leave all of this behind someday. Maybe they could retire to a little cabin in the woods, where she would give birth to loads of his shifter children. Maybe it was possible to be happy, after all, who knows?

THE END

PUCKED

STORY DESCRIPTION

Aiden Cooper is the chiseled center for the Los Angeles Knights.

Also known as the "Bad Boy Brawler of the NHL,"

Aiden likes his hard partying ways.

Drinking, bar fights, a different woman to warm his bed every night.

Hell, his life couldn’t get any better.

Until he meets Skyler…

Skyler Larking has no business being in a relationship.

But, Aiden Cooper is just too delicious to refuse.

She only ever figured he’d be a one-night stand

Then, when one night turns into two,

And two nights turns into mutual feelings,

Skyler realizes that the secret she is carrying could ruin more than just their careers,

Her secret could tear both their hearts to shreds.

Chapter 1

I stood outside the locker room for the Los Angeles Knights waiting to get in. The Knights had just lost their third game in a row after Aiden Cooper, their twenty-six-year-old center, and ‘bad boy brawler’ of the team, started a fight with one of the referees. It wasn't the first time that Cooper had started a fight out on the hockey rink, but it was the first time that I was covering such an event. In fact, it was first day on the job as a reporter for a national news station and here I was on the outside. I was a little pissed. I’d put in my dues to get here, and then some. I’d worked my way up through the ranks at local stations, to get noticed by the national news. My work spoke for itself, yet I couldn't even get back there for a damned interview. Sometimes it sucked being a woman in this business.

I watched as male reporter after male reporter was let into the locker room. My camera man, Billy, stood patiently by, waiting for his opportunity to get some video footage. I hated the way he kept looking sympathetically over at me, as if I was a lost child wandering around in a sea of testosterone.

"Want me to go in?" Billy asked.

"No," I said through gritted teeth. My stomach rumbled and I forced it to calm itself. These recent bouts of nausea were driving me crazy.

I knew Billy was just trying to be helpful, but I couldn't send a cameraman in to do my job. This was bullshit. I'd worked too hard to get here. Besides, if the rest of the station found out I couldn't get the interview myself, it would confirm every whispered innuendo about me. They would all assume I'd gotten the job by sleeping with Troy Mannen, the station head. People were ridiculous that way- even other women. Always a judgement laid down on a woman who was comfortable with her own sexuality. I could tell the truth, but it wouldn’t matter. Yeah, I slept with Troy. He’d gotten me drunk and we had a one-nighter. No big fucking deal, and instantly regrettable. It didn’t mean anything to either one of us. Well, it didn’t mean anything to me. The truth wouldn’t matter, though. I mean, the part about a one night stand with the boss would, but not the fact that I'd already signed the contract long before we had sex, or that I had earned this job on my own merit as a reporter plain and simple. Nope. I’d be permanently labelled as the female reporter who slept her way up the ladder. Total bullshit.

"This is ridiculous," I snapped, after Matthew Waters, the sleazy reporter for the country's biggest tabloid, was allowed inside. I turned to the security guard who stood blocking my entrance. "I need to get in there," I told him.

My blue eyes raged with anger. My dark hair, which I had pulled back into a tight bun, began to come loose as my head spun around.

"Sorry Ms. Larkin," the guard said, reading the name on my press badge. "I can't let—"

But I was too tired and too irritated to listen to any more of his excuses. I stormed passed him and burst into the room. All eyes turned to me, the lone woman in a room full of half-naked men. Aiden Cooper stood at the back of the room, a towel wrapped around his waist. He grinned when he saw me. His lips curved up and met the light in his dark brown eyes, which seemed to shine even in the dimness of the locker room.

I couldn't help it. My heart fluttered. Seeing Aiden in nothing but a towel, I realized that the rumors I'd heard regarding his body were woefully inadequate. His chest was not just chiseled with a hard lines of muscle rising and falling in peaks, it was as if some sculptor had carved him out of stone—the perfect specimen of man.

"And who have we here?" he asked, approaching me.

"I'm, um," I shook my head, trying to clear it. "Skyler Larkin, channel 10 news," I finally said, holding out my hand. "Mind if I ask a few questions?"

"Not at all," Aiden said, but instead of shaking my hand, he dropped his towel and pushed his crotch towards me. Everyone in the room laughed. His coach stood in the background shaking his head, looking embarrassed. Aiden just stood there with a smile on his face, like it was no big deal that he was naked and only a foot away from me.

"I, um..." My mouth ran dry.

I knew my cheeks were burning, but I didn't know how to make them stop. I tried to look away. I didn't want to play into Aiden's hands—he was obviously testing me. I wasn't sure whether he simply wanted to embarrass me or if he wanted to get me to admit that he was the sex God that all the papers and online magazines made him out to be. What was that headline I'd read only last night? BAD BOY BRAWLER OF THE NHL—A GIRL IN EVERY RINK.

Despite knowing that I was playing into his hands, I looked. I couldn't help it. Holy shit. The man was as well-hung as they said he was. A monster of a cock hung down between his tanned, toned thighs. I blinked and forced my eyes back up to his face, only that didn't help much either. His bronzed hair and deep golden eyes bore into me like sunshine through a window pane.

"I, er, just have a few questions," I finally managed to squeak out. Damn, I wanted to be cooler than this.

"Shoot," Aiden said.

"Yeah, okay, um..." But my stomach began to churn. Damned nausea. My nerves were on high alert and the blood that raced to my head wasn’t mixing very well with the cheese enchiladas I'd eaten for lunch. I put my hand on my stomach and stepped back. I had to find a bathroom. Where the hell… but I was too late.

My dinner came up and landed at the base of Aiden's feet, splashing his legs and, um, every other part of him. The shit-eating grin left his face to be replaced by a look of disgust. I ran out of the locker room with the laughter of Aiden's teammates echoing in my ears.

Where the hell was the ladies room?

Chapter 2

A half hour later, I exited the restroom.

"Skyler," Billy called, waving me over. "Hey, I've been waiting. Are you alright?"

"Thanks Billy," I said, offering up a weak smile. "I'm fine. Just something I ate I guess."

Billy leaned in, looking much more serious than he had only seconds before. "I also wanted to warn you."

I lifted my eyebrows.

"Troy called. He reamed me a new asshole, and I'm pretty sure you're next."

"Great," I said dryly. My stomach was still doing somersaults. Of course Troy would be calling. Tonight was a total bust. We were supposed to have the spot with Aiden wrapped up and transmitted to the station in plenty of time for the evening news, but of course, instead of interviewing Aiden, I'd vomited all over him. Ten o'clock had come and gone, and the sports segment had broadcast without it. Great way to start a new job, Skler.

Billy looked on worriedly. He was a kind man, maybe two or three years younger than me. I'd have guessed twenty-two to my twenty-five. He was anxious to please and just sort of anxious in general.

"Don't worry," I told him. "It's my fault we missed the interview. Not yours. I'll make sure Troy knows that."

Billy looked sheepishly at me but his shoulders relaxed. "Thanks," he said. "Are you ready to go then? It's almost ten. I should've had the news van back by now."

I shook my head, digging out a piece of peppermint gum from my purse. "I don't think I can handle being in a car just yet. You go ahead. I need to sit for a few, I'll grab a cab in an hour or so, when my stomach's calmed down."

"Oh, I don't want to leave you here."

"No really, it's fine. This is L.A. Billy, not Smalltown, Iowa. Not hard to get a cab out here, any hour of the day or night."

He looked around, uncertain, then finally conceded. "Alright, feel better."

"Yeah, thanks. See you tomorrow."

Billy drove off and I wandered around the stadium a while, trying to work off the lingering rumbles that continued to flip flop in my belly. I’d always felt at home in a stadium, probably because my dad and I spent so much quality time together at hockey games when I was young. My dad had been a good man. The best, and I was a daddy’s girl. After my mom died when I was 5 years old, dad stepped up and into the role of being both parents to me until the day he died 4 years ago. I couldn’t have asked for a kinder, gentler, more loving parent. I could only hope to do as good a job parenting my little munchkin as he had done for me. I absentmindedly rubbed my belly. Daddy had been a huge hockey fan. I could only imagine how thrilled he’d be if he knew I was now covering sports for a nationally syndicated station. If I still had a job after tonight, that is.

"Heeey!" a voice called. I looked up and saw one of the players on the Knights opposing team, Rory Shelton, walking towards me. "Hey hey pretty lady, what are you doing out here all by your lonesome?" Fuck. Rory was not someone I wanted to see, and definitely not someone I wanted to be alone with if the rumors surrounding him were in any way true. I quickly glanced around the stadium. Yep, we were pretty much alone. I'd been so preoccupied with daydreams and getting my stomach under control I hadn't realized how quickly the stadium had emptied out.

Rory's breath reeked of booze. His team had probably been celebrating their victory in the locker room. Against the rules, certainly, but apparently the rules were bent once in a while. He reached out one hand and brushed a stray strand of hair out of my face. I involuntarily flinched.

Rory had a bit of reputation as an asshole when it came to women. He'd been in jail a few times and there'd been certain allegations of harassment thrown at him by several women. Nothing concrete, and the allegations seemed to evaporate after a short while, but I’d been in this business long enough to strongly suspect that that only meant the women had been paid to keep quiet.

"I'm fine," I said, rising from the bench.

"Yes, you certainly are fine,” he said as his eyes raked up and down my body stopping at my breasts. I swear the asshole was drooling.

"Just waiting for my ride. Should be here any minute. Good game tonight." I took a step away from him but he reached out one hand and grabbed my wrist. My heart jumped into my throat.

"No, no, baby, you're not leaving so soon. Why don't you come with me? Let me show you a good time."

"I am leaving, and you’re going to get your hands off me. Now.” My voice was loud, and I hoped I sounded more confident than I felt.

I tried to pry his fingers loose from my wrist but he had a firm grasp.

"Let me go," I shouted trying to pull loose from his iron grip. But my anger wasn’t working the way I intended, in fact, it seemed to have the opposite effect. The angrier I became, the more encouraged he seemed.

"Not until you give me a kiss," he said, tugging me hard so that I nearly fell into him. His other hand wrapped around my waist.

"I'm not kissing you, you piece of shit. I don't even like you touching me. Let me fucking go!" I managed to pry one of his fingers free but it didn't make any difference, the other hand only gripped me that much tighter. "You're hurting me," I told him, a little louder. "Let go!"

In the near distance, a car door slammed. "Hey!" A man's voice screamed across the lot. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

I looked over and saw Aiden Cooper running towards us. Rory let go of me so quickly that I fell back and landed on my butt. When I looked up again, Aiden was in Rory’s face.

"What the fuck is the matter with you, man?" Aiden screamed, pushing Rory's chest. "I heard her saying no from a hundred yards away."

Rory shrugged, a smirk on his face. "Sometimes a woman don't know what she wants till it's already in her, know what I mean?" He pushed Aiden back and before I knew it the two of them were scuffling on the pavement.

I wasn’t sure what to do. Should I go look for someone to break it up? When I saw that Aiden had the upper hand, I figured maybe I’d just let it play out. It didn't exactly bother me to see Rory get a taste of his own medicine. Aiden slammed his fist against Rory's nose and blood gushed out. Aiden let him go and Rory scrambled out from under him looking a bit dazed. He seemed to come to his senses a little, though, and instead of throwing another blow, he held his hands up in a gesture of surrender and backed away. Aiden and I watched him until he turned the corner out of sight.

Aiden took several deep breaths and turned towards me.

"You ok?" he asked, holding out his hand to help me up. I took it and warm electricity surged through my fingers and up my arm.

"Yeah," I replied. "Thanks."

"No problem. It felt pretty good to hit that asswipe. Can I give you a ride home?”

I didn't know what was wrong with me. My body was responding to the narcotic power of his voice and eyes with an overwhelming onslaught of raw physical desire. His voice was like a warm rain pounding against my skin causing moisture to pool between my legs. I wasn't sure I could trust myself around him.

"Sure. Thanks.” I wondered if there was the remotest chance that he didn’t recognize me from earlier.

“My car is just over there," he said, pointing towards a cherry red Porsche. "Just promise not to puke all over it." He recognizes me.

"I’ll do my best," I mumbled, blushing. Would I ever live down the embarrassment of throwing up all over Aiden Cooper? He opened the passenger door for me and I slipped into the seat beside him.

Chapter 3

Aiden's Porsche sped along the road. I clung to the door handle as his tires raced over the pavement, keeping my eyes closed at first, then finally opening them when I heard him chuckle.

"What?" I asked. "Something funny?"

"You’re tough as nails inside a locker room, but look at you. Terrified of a little fast driving."

"I just don't want to crash," I said. My heart was pounding against my chest. Something about the way Aiden drove—hard, fast, but completely in control of the powerful machine—made me think he'd be a fantastic lover. My phone vibrated and I looked down at the number. Troy. I turned it off. The last thing I wanted to do right now in front of Aiden Cooper was to get my ass handed to me by Troy.

"So, where are we going?" I asked, suddenly aware that we were nohere near my home.

"Home," he replied. “My home. That okay?” he asked.

I glanced at him, "Your place?" Aiden probably thought he could have any girl he wanted. Did he think I was just gonna hop into bed with him because he was Aiden Cooper? Probably. After all, he was the hottest man to ever grace the cover of sports Illustrated, I would bet he didn’t suffer many rejections.

"I assure you, I’m nothing like Rory fucking Shelton. I might appreciate the company of a beautiful woman, but I also respect her choices.”

And, there it was.

“Besides," he replied, “My place is closer than yours.”

"How could you know that? I never told you where I live."

"Yeah, but I live in Beverly Hills." He said it with the complete arrogance of a hot, sexy, talented, wealthy asshole who thought the world revolved around him. His brash ego made my blood boil, but every time I turned to him to say something that might cut him down a peg or two, I kept picturing his naked body in the locker room. Especially the long, thick cock that had lain against his thigh. I was pretty sure that tonight, despite his arrogant demeanor, my choice was gonna be yes.

We passed through a wrought iron gate that opened at the click of a button and he pulled the porche up to a beautiful stucco mansion crafted in a hacienda style of architecture. There was a fountain in the center of the wide, circular drive, and beautiful stone archways. I was awed by the size and splendor of his home.

"Nice," I said before I could stop myself. I didn’t need to give his ego any more stroking.

Aiden ushered me into the kitchen and poured us both a drink.

"Thanks." The scotch was expensive, like everything else about this place. I couldn’t drink it, but that was none of his business. So, when he wasn't looking, I dumped it in the sink.

"Why are we here?" I finally asked. I wasn’t good at games. My style was blunt and forward. Got a question-ask it. One of the qualities that made me so good at my job.

Aiden raised an eyebrow. He looked a little taken aback. “You don’t want to be here?”

“I didn’t say that. I’m simply curious about your intentions.”

He grinned widely, clearly amused, and walked towards me. "Because I wanted to get to know you better.”

“You… wanted to… You mean you wanted to fuck me.”

Aiden coughed, choking on his scotch. “Wow,” he said, “Okay, yeah, I’ll admit it, you’re hot.”

“You want to fuck me after I tossed my enchiladas all over you? What, are you some kind of freak?”

He threw his head back and roared with laughter. “I said I wanted to get to know you better.” He set down his scotch and stepped closer, “You barreled your way into the mens locker room, then barely flinched when I flashed you, even though all eyes were on you. Then, the way you stood up to Rory ‘sexual harassment’ Shelton, was impressive. What are you all of about 120lbs? And, no, I could have done without you gifting me your stomach contents, thank you very much. I just never met anyone like you. Like I said, I wanted to get to know you better."

He was inches from me now. I could feel his breath on my face. "Say the word and I'll take you home, but I don't think you want to leave. Not yet anyway."

He cupped his hand under my chin and tilted my head back. I was breathing way too fast. I knew this was a gigantic mistake—it had to be—but when his hand touched my face my discretion forgot itself.

His lips pressed against mine and I gave in to the bold caress of his tongue. Relax relax relax. Only I couldn't relax, not with Aiden's fingers sliding under my shirt and up my back. His hands were surprisingly tender yet strong. My bra snapped open and my breasts spilled out. Aiden pulled my shirt over my head and stepped back to look at my ample chest.

“Beautiful,” his voice was husky with desire. He lowered his mouth to my nipples, swirling his tongue around one then the other, sucking gently. I moaned softly and my whole body seemed to convulse with need. My hormones were insane. His tongue moved faster until it left my breasts, sliding down towards my skirt.

Aiden lifted me off the floor with startling ease and sat me atop his kitchen counter. He buried his face between my legs, his mass of golden hair tickling my thighs. Pulling my panties off with his teeth, he ran his tongue over the length of my pussy before circling my clit. Holy shit. I arched my back and threaded my fingers through his hair. His hands slid over the outside of my legs as he worked his magic with his mouth, sliding his tongue in and out of my pussy, before running it up to encircle my clit. He continued the pattern moving faster and faster until a familiar tingling started deep in my core. I moaned softly. He was so in tune with my responses, that he instantly dropped his pants to the floor and next thing I knew, he had rolled a condom over his rigid dick and was inserting himself inside me.

It happened so fast I didn't even realize what was going on until his hands grabbed my ass and slid me off the counter on onto his thick length. His cock entered me an inch at a time until I felt completely full. He gave me a moment to get used to his girth before he turned us and slammed my back up against the opposite wall as he thrust into me again and again sending me into a state of sheer ecstasy. I clawed at his back and at one point I think I heard my moaning become screaming. He didn’t stop. He knew what I needed. With each push and thrust, my body released the tension and anxiety I'd felt building up for the last week. My heels dug into his ass and my fingers dug into his shoulders. He groaned, but it seemed to turn him on.

The electric sparks in my core began to build, and every time he thrust his rigid cock into me until our pelvises met, the sparks grew more intense. My head felt like it was floating, a light, airy feeling that grew brighter and bolder until I was flying amongst the clouds. My head rolled back as wild, delicious waves of pleasure enveloped my body climaxing in a tidal wave of bliss. My pussy pulsed with orgasm as Aiden let loose his own climax.

When I opened my eyes, he was smiling. "I thought that might be what you needed. I think you could use a little more, though."

Chapter 4

I woke up with my head pounding and my stomach in knots. Ugh! Unfair- I hadn't even had anything to drink last night. I lifted my head off the pillow and surveyed the bedroom. Aiden was gone. I picked up my phone to check the time and realized I'd never turned it back on last night. It lit up when I pushed the power button and I saw that I had fifteen missed phone calls from Troy.

"Shit," I murmured. I held the phone to my ear and listened to one of his voicemails. "Skyler, where the hell are you? Do you know how much you screwed up tonight? No interview? What the hell was I thinking when I hired you?"

And another, "Skyler, dammit! You call me the second you get this, you hear me. The second!"

I wasn't stupid. I knew that most of Troy's anger stemmed from our personal issue rather than my blowing the spot with Aiden. I wondered what he would think of me now if he knew just how up close and personal I'd interviewed Aiden last night. The thought made me chuckle.

"Morning," Aiden said when I entered the kitchen. He stood at the counter wearing nothing but a pair of low slung sweatpants that showed off his perfect abs. Day-um.

"Good Morning.”

"I can call you a cab when you’re ready," he offered.

A cab? My smile faltered slightly. So much for morning-after etiquette. I didn't expect him to be falling all over himself, but jeez, a cab seemed kind of crass even for Mr. Arrogant.

"Gee, thanks," I said.

"I've got a press conference this morning, so I don't have a lot of time. There's coffee ready if you want some," he told me.

"I know about the conference; I'm supposed to cover it. Coffee would be great, thanks." I stood by, waiting for him to get me a cup, but he barely looked up from his phone. I rolled my eyes and started opening cabinets until I found the right one. I poured a small amount of coffee into the mug— I knew pregnant women weren't really supposed to overdo the caffeine but I figured a cup wouldn't hurt. It was mostly milk and sugar in the cup anyway.

I stood awkwardly near him, not exactly sure what I'd expected, but certainly not this. Okay, whatever. I was a big girl. I could handle the brush-off. But, if he thinks he’s gonna call me a cab, he’s mistaken. I’ll call my own fucking cab.

"So," I said, "I guess you're not much of a morning person, huh?" I smiled sweetly not willing to let him see me irritated by his behavior.

"I'm just looking up some of the scores from last night. There are other hockey teams out there you know, and I was little preoccupied last night." He shot me a glance.

Preoccupied? Is that what he called it? Okay, asshole, you wanna play that game?

"Some would say that the Knights aren't much of a team," I said flippantly, and was delighted to receive the response I'd been hoping for.  His brow creased and he looked up from his phone. "The Stanley Cup isn't even a glimmer in your eye right now," I added.

"Some people are idiots who don't know what they're talking about," he said through gritted teeth.

"Well, my Dad was a huge hockey fan, and his buddies still are. He's the reason I love the game. Unless you played for the Original Six, your team barely counts in their eyes."

"The Original Six huh?" he said, grinning. "What do you know about the Original Six? Name the teams."

I lifted an eyebrow. He had to be joking. This was basic hockey trivia. "Red Wings, Blackhawks, Rangers, Canadiens, Bruins, and Leafs. They sort of symbolize the game for hockey fans across North America. You've gotta give me something harder than that."

"Okay," he said, setting his mug down. He actually seemed interested now. Yes, Mr. Full-of-himself, I am in the room. "First fifty goal scorer."

"Easy. Maurice Richard. Scored fifty goals in fifty games in the 1944-45 season. I thought I told you to give me something hard." My lips curved up at the corners and Aiden grinned at me.

"You know more than I gave you credit for," he said.

"Typical," I told him. "People figure 'cause I'm a female reporter I must not know my stuff, but that's gender-biased bullshit."

"I see that." His caramel eyes glimmered as the morning sun shone in through the picture window. "Where do you live?"

"Mid-Wilshire."

"I’ll drive you home."

That’s what I’m talkin’ bout. I stifled a grin.

"What about the cab? I thought you were too busy this morning to drive me?"

He shrugged. "Conference doesn't start for a little while yet, so no worries."

We hopped into his car and he headed east driving in silence for a while. His hand casually slid over my knee and I noticed the fresh cuts along his knuckles from last night's fight nestled in amongst the older ones, probably from previous fights.

"Why are you trying to ruin your career?" I burst out before I could stop it. I had a big mouth, and sometimes a very defective filter. Or, maybe, I was just irked that he'd been prepared to blow me off this morning.

"I'm not," he said, his jaw muscles tensed. His whole demeanor changed in an instant. He pulled his hand off my knee and gripped the wheel. "Are you still trying to get your interview?"

"No, I'm just asking you a question. Between you and me. Off the record. You've got a lot of talent. More than most. Seems a shame to waste it."

"I'm not wasting it," he said, his temper flaring. "I'm playing the game the best I can. Where am I taking you?"

"Wilshire and Western," I barked, folding my arms across my chest. I don't know what I was so mad for. I was the one who had started this.

We drove in silence a few more minutes before I opened my big mouth again. "It just seems to me that—"

"It just seems to me," Aiden raised his voice above mine, threw the car into park and faced me, "that some people are so wrapped up in other people's lives because they're not happy with their own."

"You have no basis to say that," I yelled back. Though it was a more astute observation than I would have thought him capable of making. After all, I wasn’t very happy being single and pregnant.

"I'd wager that I'm happier than you are," he shouted.

"Sure, that's why you're drinking yourself to death and engaging in bar fights every other weekend." I opened the car door and slammed it shut.

"At least I have someone to warm my bed each night," he shot back.

“Yeah, someone you barely know who doesn’t give two shits about you,” I yelled, furious. What the hell was wrong with me? These pregnancy hormones are crazy. I can hold my own with the best of them, but an insult like that was normally beneath me.

He stared at me for a moment, his mouth agape before his Porsche peeled away from my apartment, tires squealing.

I watched him go, anger and shame flushing my face. I didn't know why any of this should bother me so much. I barely knew him. Besides, he really was an arrogant fat-headed jerk. I was so preoccupied in my own emotions that I didn't even register it when he stopped his car at the end of the street and glanced back at me. I ran up the stairs to my building, lost in my thoughts. Waiting just outside the front entrance was Troy.

This day just keeps getting better and better.

Chapter 5

"What are you doing here, Troy?" I demanded. I didn't even realize he knew where I lived. Then again, of course he knew where I lived. He’d hired me. He had my address on file. I unlocked the front door and he followed me inside.

"If you're here about the interview—"

"I'm not," he said. "Though I don't know what the hell you were thinking blowing the very first interview I gave you. It makes you look like a complete amateur.” He flopped himself on my sofa. “Worse, it makes me look like an imbecile, and I'm not in the habit of looking like an imbecile."

I had to bite my tongue. "I'm tired. Was there something you wanted?"

"Have you thought about what we talked about?"

I lowered my eyes. I knew he wasn't gonna like my answer and I didn't want to see his reaction.

"I'm not getting an abortion, Troy." My words lingered in the air. I heard him stop breathing and finally looked up just to make sure he was still alive. His face was red.

He pounded his fist on the side table, "Why the hell not?" he demanded.

"Because this is the hand I've been dealt and this is the hand that I'll play."

"What the fuck does that mean?" he snarled. He spun around, throwing his hands in the air and letting out a loud grrrr that made me jump. When he turned back to me his eyes were dark.

"Don't you dare expect anything from me, you hear?"

"I don't."

"If one word of this leaks out to anyone I'll personally make sure that you never work in this town again."

"Fine."

He stood staring at me for a long time. "For God's sake Skyler, just terminate the god-damned thing. Do you really want to let a one-night stand ruin your life? It wasn't even that good!"

I knew he was just trying to bait me. "I'm not getting an abortion," I repeated, “And I’d like you to leave. Now.”

Anger exploded out of him. He flipped my coffee table over and pounded his fist into my wall, leaving a hole. I jumped away from him, terrified at his sudden violent outburst.

"I'll schedule it myself. I'll even take you there. You don't have to do anything."

"Still no," I said flatly. Despite the slight tremble in my voice, I was adamant and I wasn't going to be bullied. Ever since the night we'd slept together and the condom didn’t hold up, I'd felt like he was keeping tabs on me, maybe he was afraid I’d have something to hold over his head. After I told him I was pregnant a few days ago... well, something inside him seemed to have snapped.

"You can forget the press conference today," he said. "Don't even bother showing up."

My mouth dropped open. "Why not? You said—"

"I said a lot of things. But that was before I found out what a fuck up you are. I called you fifty times last night and you never answered. You already missed one interview. I wasn't about to let you miss this press conference too. I sent Gary."

"Gary? Gary can barely tie his shoes!"

"Well next time I send you for an interview, you make damned sure you get the fucking interview. Where were you last night anyhow?"

"Nowhere," I said, blushing. He stared at me a second, deciding something.

"Next time I call you, you answer. And don't forget, if you ruin me I'll ruin you," he finally said. "Got it?"

"Got it," I said quietly, turning so he wouldn’t see the tears pooling in my eyes. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he made me cry. Without another word, he turned to leave. I let out a long sigh and locked the door behind him.

Chapter 6

I stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around my body and another around my hair, and stepped into the bedroom to turn on the TV. The press conference where I was supposed to have been was on ESPN. The Knights were making some big announcement about their new goalie, Erick Calquin. He was the first hockey player native to Africa who would be playing with the Knights.

Aiden sat beside the coach. His eyes kept flicking back and forth between the camera and the crowd of reporters. If I didn't know better, I'd have thought he was looking for someone. It can't be me. He doesn’t even like me right now. In fact, he probably hates me.

Last night had been amazing. Not only had Aiden taken me in the kitchen, but later again in the bedroom, and then in the shower as well. I sighed. But I knew better. One-night -stands weren't about like or dislike, they were about lust. Sometimes, as in the case with Troy, they were about the worst kind of lust—drunken lust that didn't make any sense to either party in the light of day. But with Aiden, the lust was definitely based on good chemistry. Physical chemistry, anyway. We obviously didn’t do so well otherwise, if this morning’s harsh words to each other was any indication.

My stomach turned over. Oh, no, here it comes. I made it to the bathroom just in time. The toilet bowl was becoming my new best friend.

I returned to the bedroom and climbed up against the pillows to watch the press conference. My phone lit up with a new text. I was shocked to see Aiden's number pop onto my screen. He'd put it in my phone last night sometime between the kitchen and the shower. I'd figured he'd just been playing around.

"He can't be texting me now," I murmured to myself. "He's still at the live press conference." I looked back up at the TV and saw Aiden, still sitting beside his coach, with his phone in his hand. I looked back at the text.

WHERE R U?

I couldn't believe he might really be messaging me on TV.

@ HOME

I saw his face fall the second he got my text.

U WATCHING?

I couldn't understand it. He'd dropped me off three hours ago and the last words we'd exchanged were angry ones. Why did he look so upset that I wasn't at the conference? Why the hell would he care where I was or if I was watching?

YES

Suddenly, he stood up. His coach stopped talking and looked at him.

"Uh," Coach laughed, turning back to the press. "Aiden just wants to give Erick a proper Knights welcome," he said. Then he covered the microphone, but everyone could still hear him tell Aiden to sit the fuck down.

Aiden was standing there with a sexy grin on his face. "I just wanted to give Erick a proper welcome, like Coach said."

Then Aiden turned his back to the cameras and dropped his pants. His bare ass came into view and flashes went off everywhere. Coach shook his head as Aiden wiggled his bare ass for the press. Coach tried to laugh it off, but I could tell he was pissed.

"Aiden," I mumbled to myself. "What the hell are you doing?"

Chapter 7

I paused in the hallway, peeking around the corner towards my front door, listening to the banging of a fist as it flew over the heavy wood.

Troy again? It had to be, who else would be pounding on my door like that at midnight? He'd called me again after Aiden's press conference and told me he'd made an appointment for my "remedy," as he called it over the phone. He was so paranoid that someone would find out he'd slept with me. I knew why. I thought I did, anyway. According to Jessica, the office gossip, Troy was heavily courting the station owner’s socialite daughter. As the station manager of KGLB, he could be easily replaced at the owners discretion. Troy was just trying to cover his own ass.

I crept slowly towards the door and peeked out the side window. I was shocked to see, not Troy, but Aiden standing in the dark with a goofy grin on his face and a bouquet of flowers under his arm.

I opened the door and a flash of relief passed over his face. "Oh good," he said, obviously drunk. "I thought maybe you weren't home." He shoved the flowers towards me. Red roses. I took them, confused.

"Aiden, it's midnight. You know that right?" He smiled sheepishly and leaned in to kiss me. I pushed him away.

“Is this some sort of booty call?” I asked. He actually looked hurt.

"I just... I wanted to see you," he said it so sincerely that I almost considered inviting him inside. But that was a really bad idea. I mean, one night of earth-shattering sex was great, but anything more than one night seemed a little too close for comfort right now. Being pregnant, and with Troy acting crazier and crazier every day, I wasn’t in any condition to entertain even a casual relationship.

"I wanted to apologize. I once heard that you should never go to bed angry with someone, so I didn’t want you to go to bed still angry with me.”

I was pretty sure that saying only applied to people with whom you were in a committed relationship, but this time I was able to keep my mouth shut instead of blurting out that fact. Besides, the flowers were a very nice gesture.

“Thank you. I’m not still angry," I told him. "and you can see me at your next game, unless your coach banned you after that stupid stunt of yours."

He grinned at me. "You saw that, huh? I hoped you would."

Even drunk off his ass, Aiden was adorable. His hair tousled in a carefree style, rock hard pecs peeking out from behind his shirt, and sexy half-grin. Desire flooded me when I thought about the way his hands had slid over my body, and how his dick had slid into my body. I shivered in the doorway thinking about it.

"Oh," he said. "You're cold. Here." He took off his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. It was a surprisingly tender gesture.

"Is there something else, Aiden?" I asked, softer this time.

"Yeah, let me take you out. Tomorrow night."

"Out? You mean on a date?"

He nodded.

I bit my lip. "I don't think that's such a good idea. Why would you even want to?"

He shrugged. "Why wouldn’t I? I can't stop thinking about you, and something tells me... that you might be good for me."

I smiled in spite of myself.

"C’mon, just give me a chance. Let me cook you dinner."

"You cook?" I asked.

"Well, no," he hesitated. "But I'm superb at ordering take out. You don't even have to go anywhere. I'll come here- to you."

It might have been the way his eyes glimmered in the moonlight, or the way his silhouette looked so sultry and delicious as he leaned up against my doorway or the way his T-shirt bulged with his rock-hard chest and muscled arms, but the man breached my every defense.

"Alright," I agreed. "Dinner at my place tomorrow night."

Chapter 8

Aiden showed up at my place at seven with a huge grocery bag of take-out cartons from my favorite restaurant, Luigi's.

"I can't believe you read my mind," I said, as he began opening up boxes. It almost looked as if he'd ordered everything on the menu, afraid that I wouldn't like what he picked. I dug into some eggplant parmesan, my mouth watering. I kept waiting for him to get drunk and paw at me, but the strongest thing he had to drink was Diet Coke.

As I pulled out plates and silverware, he wandered around my living room, looking at my diplomas. I'd had them professionally framed and hung on the wall. I was incredibly proud of them.

"Looks like you're smarter than I gave you credit for," he grinned at me when I narrowed my eyes and glared. I threw a couch pillow at him. He caught it and threw it back. "Yale huh? I couldn't even get in there."

"Well, it wasn't easy," I told him. "I had to work hard for it. Scholarships don't exactly fall of trees."

"You got a scholarship?" he asked, interested.

"Yeah. My dad didn't exactly have the money for me to attend. Yale was one of the schools that offered me a full work scholarship."

"Work scholarship?"

"Yeah. I got my tuition waved as long as I kept my grades up and worked on campus. I worked in the cafeteria." I wrinkled my nose.

"Didn't much like it, huh?"

"Let’s just say it taught me that I didn’t want to make a career of picking up people's leftovers. Have you ever seen cafeteria food when it's being made? It's all powders. Powdered eggs, powdered beef—"

"Powdered beef?" Aiden laughed.

"I'm not kidding," I laughed with him. "You try eating that stuff for four years straight. You'll never look at food the same way again."

He hesitated. "My family wasn't exactly rich either. That's why hockey's always been so important to me. It was my ticket to a different life, you know? I didn't want to end up being a custodian all my life, like my dad. I love him, and I’m proud of him for supporting his family, but... he's never seemed really happy to me."

"I get it," I told him. Aiden gave a smolderingly sexy look that told me exactly what was on his mind. He took a step towards me. I knew I should stop him before it went any further, but I couldn't bring myself to push him away. My body was crazy about this man. My blood flowed through my veins like liquid lava.

"Aiden, there's something you should know." But was there? Did I have to tell Aiden that I was pregnant? What did it matter? He wasn't the father, after all. A woman only had to tell the father. Chances were that what Aiden and I were experiencing wasn’t going to last much longer anyway. It was just something we had to work out of our systems, like the flu. So, our one-night stand turned into a two-night stand, so what?  I was sure that tomorrow morning would probably be our final goodbye.

Aiden stopped moving towards me, waiting to see what I would say. But instead of continuing, I stepped closer and pressed my lips against his. My hands searched his chest and found the hem of his shirt, lifting it over his head. Now that we had started, it was like I couldn't waste any time. I didn't just want him, I needed him, craved him.

My heart rate quickened and my breathing sought to match it. I kissed his bare skin, tasting his body as I moved my tongue across the dips and crevices of his chiseled abdomen. My mind raced. What are you doing? Stop this now. What are you thinking? But I told my mind to shut up. Rational thought wasn't needed for tonight. My body took over and shut my brain down. There was no reason to think, only act.

Aiden's strong, soft hands cupped my breasts, feeling them through my bra. Slowly, he brought each strap down and slid it off me. We took turns exploring, tasting and pleasuring each other. I traversed the landscape of his hard chest and tight abs, but when he turned his attentions to my breasts, I was overcome with an acute surge of desire. His hands seemed fascinated by their soft roundness and heavy curve. His teeth, lips and tongue worshiped my nipples. An aching tension was building between my thighs and my body began to tremble, my knees buckled. Aiden scooped me into his arms before I could fall and carried me to the bedroom.

My bed was soft and inviting, and he laid me down in the center, while he stood at the foot of it unfastening his jeans. He slid them down his hips, freeing his large cock that jutted out towards me, thick, long, and erect. He stood for a moment while I admired the full length of his powerful physique. He watched me, eyes at half-mast, as I slid my own jeans off and kicked them off the bed. My stomach wasn't revealing anything yet; it was still hard and smooth and when I leaned back on my elbows, spreading my legs for Aiden, his eyes widened, and jaw slackened.

"I thought you might like to score," I teased. "Here’s the net, you bring the puck." I spread my legs wider and Aiden grinned at me. He slid on top of me, his bare skin against mine leaving his jeans in a pool on the floor. He didn't try to enter me right away. Instead, his deft fingers found that soft, sweet spot between my thighs and began to strum me like a violin. His warm, calloused fingers teased my pussy lips apart and gently circled the tiny bud of nerve endings. His fingers strummed my instrument, and with my head back, and eyes shut, a moan escaped my lips as the vibrations carried through my body.

Slowly, he lowered his head and allowed his tongue to delve into my soft mound. "You taste fucking delicious," he murmured, his breath hot against my skin. I wrapped one leg behind his neck and pulled him tighter against me. His tongue licked the length of my slit. "More," I whispered. He responded by dipping and swirling his tongue deep into my canal, tasting me from the inside. His tongue swam inside me, pulsing with soft precision. When he curled his tongue out and flicked my clit, my whole body shuddered and without warning exploded into an intensely delicious orgasm that had me crying out his name.

Before the last tremors of my climax subsided, Aiden brought his rigid, engorged erection to my slick entrance. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and his mouth opened ever so slightly as his shaft slowly slid into my waiting pussy. I felt his heartrate quicken when I thrust my pelvis up hard to meet his. We moved against each other perfectly in sync to a rhythm only we could capture.

I couldn't believe how right it felt to be with him like this. I ran my fingers through his thick golden hair, pulling his lips to mine and slid my tongue into his mouth to entwine with his. I could taste my juices on him as his hips thrust forward again and again, pounding into me like waves against a shore.

Power surged between us, intense and electric, sending sparks up my arms and to my brain. I had shut down my thought processes earlier, not wanting to hear the mindless chatter of why I should or shouldn't be doing this. But now, my brain confirmed that I'd done the right thing by being here with Aiden. In fact, I couldn’t think of anything I’d ever done that had felt this right

As I felt the beginning flutters of my second orgasm, I used my legs to pull him tighter against me, and as my body convulsed into waves of ecstasy, I was vaguely aware of his body tightening and his hard, muscular ass cheeks clenching as he exploded inside me. My arms and legs were coiled around him like a snake. I didn't want him to let go. When I felt the energy subside, I loosened my grasp. He was staring at me with wide, wondering eyes.

"I've never felt anything that powerful before," he said.

I grinned. Score!

Chapter 9

I sat between Billy and Troy. Billy kept his camera trained on the game and didn't notice Troy's dirty looks directed at me. Troy had insisted on coming to the game tonight. He'd said that he was a fan of the Knights and wanted to see the game. He also added that as the manager of the station he had to make sure I got my interview this time. I assured him I would. Aiden had already set it up to make sure I was allowed full access to the locker room and told his teammates to cooperate. I'd been flattered when he'd offered to help, but had initially declined. I hadn't wanted it to seem like I was using him.

Aiden had persisted, and without informing me until it was done, had secured me the equivalent of a backstage pass at one of the biggest games of the season. I was thrilled. Technically, he wasn't helping me to anything that I didn't already deserve. As a member of the press, I should have been given full access from the beginning, but being a woman in a man's sporting world wasn't always easy.

"After the game," Troy leaned over and whispered, "I want to talk to you. Alone."

I tried to ignore him but his hand gripped my wrist much too hard. I turned to face him and he glared at me with a menacing look. "I'm serious," he said.

"Fine," I whispered, looking around. I knew it had only been a week since Aiden and I had first slept together, but I didn't want anyone reporting back to him that I was involved in any way with Troy. Even though it was just a hate-hate relationship. Luckily for me, Troy didn't want anyone noticing our relationship either. He had no idea about my involvement with Aiden and I intended to keep it that way. Even though Aiden and I hadn’t quite ended, as I thought we would, there still wasn’t any spoken commitment between us. I just didn’t want Troy knowing my business.

Despite only having slept with Troy once, he was bitter and jealous like no one I had ever known. He seemed to think he owned me. I had to turn off my phone every night when Aiden was over just to make sure that Troy's phone calls didn't send the wrong impression.

"Cooper's on fire tonight," Billy remarked.

I couldn't hide the smile that played at my lips. Aiden was indeed on fire. He made goal after goal, and it looked effortless. And he hadn't gotten booted from the game once.

"Don't worry," Troy said. "He'll fuck up. He always does."

I glared at Troy, who noticed my rising temper. "People can change," I said. "They can grow. At least most people can."

"What's with you?" Troy asked. His face was tight and red. "Cooper's a jerk off. Everybody knows that. Maybe that Coach of his finally got him whipped. He's been pretty quiet since that mooning stunt of his. I heard Coach threatened to toss him if he had one more outburst."

I didn't say anything. I knew that was true though. Aiden and I had talked about it. He was terrified of being thrown not just out of the game, but out of the league. I'd told him if he just did his job, which was playing hockey not drinking and carousing, then he'd be fine.

"But a little carousing can be a good thing for a man," he'd said, his fingertips gliding over my arm. I'd smiled and told him so long as it was me he was carousing with, he'd be safe.

The game ended and I jumped up with Billy, Troy trailing behind us. We ran to the locker room and I could see Troy getting ready to make some sort of speech about how we were to be let through.

"Right this way Ms. Larkin," the guard said before Troy even had a chance to say anything. Billy and I jogged ahead of Troy.

"Why is he following us around?" Billy asked. I shrugged. "He gives me the creeps," Billy said, glancing back.

Then we were in the locker room and the players were coming out. They stood around with towels draped over them, half naked, and completely oblivious to the fact that a woman was in there with them. Reporters started shouting questions over each other, and my voice seemed to get drowned out with the others. But Aiden looked right at me and smiled.

"Let's start with the prettiest reporter here," he said.

I blushed and the other reporters chuckled. No one thought anything of Aiden's remark. He was so known for being a ladies man that comments like that were just a part of who he was. When the interview was over, and the reporters were booted from the locker room, I walked to the van with Billy, intending to ride back with him.

I felt Troy's hand shoot out and grab hold of me. "Ride with me," he whispered. I shook my head, not wanting Billy to notice. "Ride with me," Troy repeated, "or you're fucking fired," he spat.

My shoulders tensed and I planted a fake smile on my face. "I'm gonna ride with Troy," I told Billy. I leaned in and whispered. "I think he wants to ream me out for not asking better questions."

Billy's eyes widened. "I thought your questions were good," Billy said. "As good as anyone's, that is. He's just a jerk." I nodded and watched Billy drive off without me.

"Now," Troy said. "Was that so hard?"

Chapter 10

My phone starting ringing almost the second I plopped down in Troy's car. It was Aiden. I glanced at Troy and ignored the call.

"What is it you need to talk to me about?" I asked.

"I made an appointment for you in the morning. We're gonna get this thing taken care of."

My eyes bugged out of my head. I couldn't believe how little regard he was paying me. "I'm not getting an abortion," I told him for the umpteenth time.

"Yes you are," he said. "Or I'll make sure you're blackballed in this business. You'll be nothing but a joke. The slut that ruined her career by getting pregnant."

"You're the one who got me pregnant!" My phone rang again and I hit the ignore button.

"No one's going to believe you," Troy said. “I'll just say you're mad because I fired you."

"But..." I didn't know what else to say. I felt cornered. Troy smiled. "So what are we doing tonight then?" I asked, my heart sinking. I fought back the tears that were starting to form.

"Tonight," he said, his hand creeping once more onto my knee, "We’re gonna spend together."

"You can't be serious," I shouted, astounded that he could possibly think I was gonna spend the night with his crazy ass.

"Why not?" he asked. "You don’t really think I’m going to let you out of my sight before tomorrow morning, do you?" His eyes were malicious and his laugh was like a lunatic. I felt disgusted with myself for ever having slept with this man.

"I'm not having an abortion," I told him.

"Well, we'll see about that."

My phone started vibrating in my hand. "What?" I snapped, answering Aiden's call.

I heard the confusion on the other end. "Skyler?"

"Yeah, what is it?" I knew I was being rude, but I was too upset with Troy to care. Tears were starting to spill over my cheeks.

Aiden hesitated. "I thought I'd come over to your place. Is everything okay?"

"Fine," I lied, fighting back the tears in my voice. I didn't want Aiden to hear me cry. "I'm just tired. Not tonight okay?"

Funny, I never thought you could hear someone think, but I swear that's what if felt like now. I could actually hear Aiden's mind spinning. "Something's wrong," he finally said.

"No," I told him. Troy was watching me. "Everything... I just don't feel well. I'll see you some other time." Then I hung up before he could respond.

"Who was that?" Troy demanded.

"No one."

"Sounded like someone to me. You got another bedmate I should know about?" His voice growled low and steady. I knew what he was implying, that he wasn’t the father of my baby.

With the way Troy was looking at me, I didn't think it was wise to explain. "It was just my sister," I told him. He stared at me a moment longer then seemed to accept that. Idiot. I didn't even have a sister.

We pulled up to my apartment building and were almost to the door when a Porsche came screeching into the parking lot. Troy and I turned around and saw Aiden jumping from his car and running towards us.

"Aiden Cooper?" Troy said, confused. He looked over at me and understanding lit his eyes. "Oh, hell no," he said. "You've been fucking this asshole?"

Aiden heard him and only slowed his approach because he didn't yet understand the situation. Tears were filling my eyes again. More than anything I wanted Aiden here with me. I didn't to send him away, but I didn't know what else to do.

"Aiden, what are you doing here? I told you not tonight."

He looked from me to Troy. "Who's this guy?" Aiden asked.

"My boss," I said, my cheeks going red. Despite what some people thought, Aiden wasn't stupid.

"Why are you crying?"

"I'm not," but I couldn't meet Aiden's eyes.

"You heard her," Troy said. "She doesn't want you here." He yanked my arm, pulling me towards him.

"Ow," I said. "That hurts." I tried to pull my arm away and Troy slapped me once across the face. That was all it took. Aiden made a tight fist that sent Troy sprawling backwards. He fell to the ground, hitting his head. When he sat up his nose was bleeding and his eyes were black. He lunged at Aiden.

Aiden fought back, hitting Troy again. I scrambled backwards, shouting for them to stop. A few neighbors came out. One of them recognized Aiden and pulled out his phone. Then a couple others joined him and began recording the fight.

"Troy stop!" I screamed. He got one good punch in at Aiden, but Troy was just no match. Aiden used a wrestling move he knew and flipped Troy onto his back. He punched Troy again until finally Troy stopped fighting.

When Aiden stood back up, I took his hand, pulling him away. There were more neighbors and more phones out now.

"You'll pay for this," Troy shouted. "Both of you."

Aiden made one final attempt to lunge for him but I held him back and ushered him into my apartment. Tears streamed down my face.

"That asshat is your boss?" Aiden asked, bewildered. His nose was bleeding. "Skyler, please, talk to me. Tell me what's going on."

"I'm pregnant," I told him, unable to take it anymore. His face paled for a second before righting itself again. "It's not yours," I added quickly. "It's Troy's. We slept together. Once. Four months ago. It was a mistake, but, well.. he's been hounding me ever since. He wants me to have an abortion, but I can’t. I just can’t. He..." I began to choke on my sobs as they poured out of me. "He says if I don’t he'll blackball me from the industry. Ruin my career before it even has a chance to get anywhere. And I believe him."

I slumped against the wall and covered my face with my hands. My body shook. I was certain that Aiden was about to walk out my front door and never look back. Instead, his strong arms enveloped me and pulled me in close against his firm body. He held me tightly and kissed the top of my head as his hand rubbed up and down my back.

"I don't know what to do either," he said. "But what I do know is that that guy is never coming near you again." I laid my head against his chest and he held me like that for the rest of the night.

Chapter 11

The next night, I stood with the other reporters, watching the Knights get trampled by their opponents. Aiden sat on the sidelines. He'd been out the entire game. The videos of him beating up Troy were all over YouTube. His picture was plastered all over the internet. Troy had already announced his intention to sue Aiden and the team, unless Aiden was immediately released from his contract. Troy was trying to get Aiden kicked out of the NHL forever.

And just to rub it all in, Troy was actually at the game. He was sitting far from me in expensive box seats with the other station owners. Billy kept glancing at me. My face had been hidden in the videos. No one had bother to focus their cameras on me, it had been Aiden they were interested in. Still, it had taken a lot of makeup to cover the black eye Troy had given me when he'd slapped me. It looked a little weird.

"Your face..." Billy said.

"What about it?" I snapped.

"Never mind," Billy said quickly.

The game ended and the Knights slunk off the court, defeated once more. Reporters fled to the locker room, eager to get a word in with Aiden.

"Aiden, Aiden!" one reporter shouted. "How do you feel about your meeting with the Knights owner tomorrow? Think he's going to kick you off the team?"

"Yes," Aiden answered honestly.

"Why were you fighting with Troy Mannen?" another reporter shouted. "Was it over money?"

"Was it over a girl?"

"Are you on drugs?"

The questions kept flying in. They weren't even giving Aiden a chance to answer.

My heart broke into a thousand pieces. This was all my fault. I had to do something to make it right.

"It's not his fault," I said, quietly at first. Then louder, "It's not his fault! IT'S NOT HIS FAULT!"

Everyone stopped and stared at me. Billy moved to turn the camera off but I told him to keep it rolling. "Aiden Cooper is a good man," I said, facing the camera straight on. "He was fighting Troy Mannen because..." I took a deep breath. "He was defending me." Tears flowed freely over my face now. The makeup I had so painstakingly applied began to wash away.

"Not long ago, Troy Mannen, who is my boss at KGLB... we slept together. It was a one-time thing, but I’m pregnant." I was self-conscious of all the cameras in the room, now trained on me, but forced myself to continue.

"Troy... yesterday he tried to blackmail me into having an abortion, but I refused. He told me if I didn't terminate the pregnancy, that he would not only fire me, but see to it that I never worked in this industry again. Then he hit me." I rubbed at the makeup I'd been hiding my black eye with. Mixed with my tears, the makeup rubbed away easily. There were gasps all over the locker room. Even Aiden's coach looked stunned.

"Aiden came along as Troy was trying to hurt me. That's the part no one saw on the videos. The part where Aiden was only coming to my defense. He won’t lose his job because I’m sure that the owner of the Knights has no intention of firing a good and honorable man like Aiden Cooper. Not when Aiden Cooper exemplifies all that the Knights and the NHL stand for- honor, bravery and courage."

I suddenly felt lightheaded. My legs started to crumple and I felt myself rushing towards the floor. Aiden's strong hands reached out to steady. He pulled me up and held me to him, wrapped in his arms. "I love you," he whispered.

"Did you hear that?" someone shouted, excited, as cameras went off. Then Aiden, attention seeker that he is, kissed me.

"Hey!" someone shouted. "Troy Mannen's in the stadium. Let's find him!"

Reporters, eager to jump on the bandwagon, fled the room. Aiden stayed right where he was, with his arms wrapped around me and his heart beating in time with mine.

Chapter 12

Billy sat next to me as we watched Aiden score another goal. The crowd cheered as the announcer's voice blared across the stadium. "That's four in a row for Knights center Aiden Cooper." There was another roar as the announcer said his name.

"Is he really as great a guy as the papers make him out to sound?" Billy asked. Then he looked over at me, smiling ear to ear. My baby bump was showing now, but Aiden said it just made me look that much more beautiful. "Look who I'm asking," Billy said. "Of course you're gonna think he's great. You're his girlfriend." He laughed to himself and shook his head.

It was weird being thought of as Aiden Cooper's girlfriend, but It was definitely official now. After the whole Troy ordeal, we discussed our future together. A future we both wanted.

"It's kind of crazy to think how much he's changed," Billy said.

"Not really," I replied. "Everyone is multifaceted, it’s just a matter of which facet you choose to let shine." I glanced at Aiden who winked at me. Billy nodded with understanding. Troy would never change facets. He hadn't just been fired, he'd disappeared off the face of the Earth as far as I knew. Right after the station told him to get out, he'd tried to get a job elsewhere, but no one wanted to hire a man with his reputation for beating on and bullying women. Before he'd left Los Angeles, he'd said he never wanted to see me again, and that he was going somewhere where they'd never heard of hockey. That had been three months ago and true to his word, I hadn't heard from him again.

The Knights won their game easily and the rest of the players jumped on Aiden, congratulating him. Reporters started to head to the locker room to ask their questions but before they could file out, Aiden grabbed a microphone and started talking. Everyone stopped moving.

"Thanks, folks, for coming to the game tonight," Aiden said, smiling. "Three months ago it looked like I might not be playing hockey anymore, and tonight, we're on the verge of hitting the playoffs." The crowd cheered.

"A lot of people think it's me that's to thank for the turnaround this team has taken, but that's not true. Everyone on this team has worked equally as hard at creating the awesome outcome we’ve been experiencing, including our fabulous coach." The crowd cheered and a few of the players patted Coach on the back. "But there's only one person, who has made a difference in turning my life around. Her name’s Skyler Larkin. Skyler, where are you? Come out here, please."

My cheeks turned red. Aiden held out his hand for me and Billy gave me a push. I stepped onto the ice and started to slide. Aiden scrambled over and helped to the middle of the rink.

"What’s going on?" I whispered. He just smiled at me.

"Skylar Larkin," he said, kneeling on the ice. My jaw dropped. He pulled a small velvet box from his pocket and the crowd in the stadium grew completely silent. You could have heard a whisper from the other side of the stadium.

"I never would have believed I could meet a woman as kind as you, as beautiful, as funny, or as strong. You've changed my life immeasurably and I never want to be without you. I can't believe I'm gonna say this, but I love you more than hockey. Will you marry me?"

For a half a second, I forgot to breathe. "Yes, of course!" I screamed. Throwing my arms around him. The crowd cheered. Aiden kissed me and spun me around. "I love you too," I told him as he slid the ring on my finger. It glowed bright in the stadium lights.

"The only thing left to do," Aiden said, "is figure out how this adoption stuff works. Our baby is gonna grow up with a father. And if it's a girl, she's gonna be the first girl to ever play pro hockey in this rink."

I smiled as the baby kicked, adding its seal of approval.

THE END

HOLDING

STORY DESCRIPTION

Mia made one mistake – one.

She secretly dated her best friend, Rachel’s brother, whom she’d had a crush on since third grade. But, that one mistake changed Mia’s life forever.

Logan doesn’t regret the love he gave to Mia, if it were up to him, they’d be married by now. It clearly wasn’t up to him, when Mia dumped him three years ago in an email. Logan went on to pursue his dreams of playing pro football, and has made a huge success of his talent. He never saw Mia again….

Now, his sister Rachel has called everyone back home to Oakville for her lavish, over-the-top wedding.

The upcoming nuptials leave Logan with questions- Will Mia be there? Has she moved on? Can he rekindle their spark? Can he convince Mia that she’s the only woman he’s ever truly cared for?

Mia is not looking forward to the wedding. She is a terrible liar and she has secrets that she’d rather keep buried. One in particular- her three-year-old daughter, Emma.

How will Mia explain why she forfeited her Harvard Law scholarship in favor of working at SmartMart?

Chapter 1

Mia stood at register, waiting for the next person in line to hurry up and make their decision. Candy or no candy? Gum or no gum? A rather large, gray haired woman made a face at Mia as she eyed the chocolates, as if Mia was somehow personally responsible for tempting her. The man behind her grumbled and shuffled his feet.

"Come on lady," he yelled. "It's not rocket science."

The woman glared back at him then turned her wrath on Mia. "I don't like the way you're looking at me," she said. "Where's your manager?"

Great. The only thing Mia needed less than a root canal was to drag Mr. Rayner over to her register. Why couldn't anyone who shopped at Smart Mart actually be reflective of the store's name. "Ma'am," Mia started her attempt to placate the woman.

"Ma'am? Did you just call me ma'am?"

Mia sighed, realizing her error. "I'll just get the manager for you."

She signaled Mr. Rayner, who came over and took the woman aside, apologizing for something Mia never did. At least her third hour on register was over. Lara brought a new drawer to replace Mia's, who gratefully left her post in search of fresh air. Mia tried to sneak past Mr. Rayner for her last break of the night, but he caught her opening the back door to the alley with the bench.

"Mia, a minute please?"

Mia paused. She was so close to the fresh air—well, alley fresh air, but at least there were no fluorescent lights—but she turned into Mr. Rayner's office instead. He sat on top of his desk, leaning against the edge. He pushed out a chair for her with his foot and she took it.

"Mia, why do you insist on making things difficult for yourself? I can help you if you'd just be a little nicer to me." He reached out an arm and tried to grope Mia's shoulder. She jumped out of her chair and took two steps back. This was an old game.

"I have a boyfriend," she lied.

"No you don't," he laughed, as if the thought was too ridiculous to entertain. "Come here why don't you?" He opened his arms and Mia considered relenting. She was so tired of working double shifts and standing at register for three hours at a time. But then Mr. Rayner licked his lips and Mia's stomach churned. Things were bad, but they weren't that bad.

"I'm going on break," she said.

"Fine," Mr. Rayner said, straightening up. "But that old bat complained about you. I have to make a record of it. That makes three complaints this month Mia. One more and you're facing suspension."

Mia bit her lip. She only had an hour left. "Can I go now?" He nodded like he was doing her a favor and she scurried away while she still could.

Mia was almost out the alley door when Jake ran up to her.

"Hey, Mia." He was out of breath. "Glad I caught you. Listen, there's a hot party on for tonight. Can you cover me?"

"Doesn't your shift start in like an hour?"

He lifted his shoulders. "So?"

Mia wanted to slam his head against the wall. Jake knew she'd never turn down an extra shift. She and Emma needed the money too badly. But she was so tired. She pictured the pink princess dress Emma had gone crazy for at Smart Mart the other day. Who would have thought that fake satin was so expensive?

"Fine," she said.

"Thanks," he said, grinning. "That's awesome."

She watched Jake run off and a pang of jealousy hit her heart. He was only a year younger than her, yet his life was so different. She was twenty-one. She should be going to parties instead of... but that was a horrible thing to think. Emma was the one good thing about her life.

She stepped outside and sucked in the cool night air. Late August was always a peaceful time for the weather in Wisconsin. Football would be starting soon, and she was sure to see Logan splashed across the screen even more as the weeks went on. She never could get away from him completely. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she looked with shock at the number. It was from Rachel. She hadn't talked to Rachel in three years. Not since Logan was drafted and they both moved to San Francisco.

Mia, I'm getting married this weekend. I need help. I can't make it in Oakville by myself. Please come. I've missed you.

Mia turned off her phone and drew in several deep breaths. Why would Rachel be getting married in Oakville? She'd heard people in town talking about the wedding. Her fiancé was some big shot Hollywood actor. Shouldn't they get married there, in L.A.? She went back inside. Her ten minutes were up.

Work lasted forever. Mia walked through the door of her tiny apartment to find Emma asleep in Tera's arms. It wasn't quite dawn. Mia shook the babysitter gently and paid her double what she'd promised. The money was almost too precious to part with, but it was worth it to keep Tera coming back. She's the only one who would come down to Harvest Road with any regularity. Everyone else deemed the area too poor to set foot in.

Mia moved Emma back into her bed, kissed her forehead and returned to the living room. Their couch was starting to fall apart and Mia made a mental note to keep an eye out at the Goodwill. Logan's face flashed across the screen when Mia turned the TV on. She knew she should go to bed. She had to be back at work in a few hours, but Logan's face smiled at her and she couldn't turn away. She remembered the last time she'd seen him... the night they'd finally made love. It had only been three years ago, yet it felt like decades. Even now, his face was smooth and tan and he stared at her from the TV screen with wild blue eyes and a smile too charming for his own good. In these moments, she missed him even more than she would have believed possible.

Chapter 2

Logan stood for the cameras with his back straight and a smile on his face. His sand colored hair swept back over his head, and the girl on his arm—Crap! What was her name again?—kissed his cheek as the lights kept flashing.

"Hey Logan! Over here!" shouted a reporter. The blonde on his arm threw her body over his, like she was a blanket, or maybe a snake. She coiled one leg around him and pulling him close with both her arms. His face smacked against hers hard; it felt like he'd just been tackled. She ran her tongue over his lips, and he continued to smile for the cameras as if he was enjoying it all. In truth, he wanted to run away from this woman and the cameras and just go sit in a library or a coffee shop somewhere and be alone.

He was twenty-six and already tired of the girls and the fame. It was great being the best quarterback in football, but all he really wanted now was to play the game. He didn't care about the other stuff, like the money or the girls or even the trophies. Okay, maybe he still cared a little about the trophies, after all, he wasn't crazy. But the girls were a dime a dozen. He flashed back to college. Just before he'd gotten drafted to San Francisco, he and Mia had shared a magical night together and a promise that she'd ultimately broken. He couldn't stop his heart from fluttering when he pictured her face of cream and her golden hair falling around her shoulders like a string of halos.

The blonde pinched his ass and the reporters all laughed. She was posing for them like they cared about her. Like she was an actress or a model instead of a groupie. Was he sure she wasn't? It looked at her again and tried to remember where he'd met her. A bar. It was always a bar. The flashes continued, blinding him for a full minute before he blinked enough to regain his sight. Vultures. All of them. It occurred to Logan that maybe the blonde was a vulture too, and he eyed her suspiciously as she swiveled her hips.

He wondered what Mia was doing now. If she was happy. He hated the idea of going back to Oakville for Rachel's wedding, but if he had to, maybe he could at least look her up. He was sure she'd be gone. Harvard law was a far cry from Oakville, Wisconsin, why would she have returned? But still... her parents were probably still there. Maybe he could find them at least. Get an address.

Why torture yourself?

He had left Oakville, but it had been Mia who'd left him. He should just leave well enough alone.

The cameras flashed again, too close to his face this time, and his eyes started to tear up. What were the taking pictures for anyways? They acted like he was doing something really juicy—like robbing a bank or breaking a world record. The season hadn't even started yet. He was just walking into a restaurant with a girl he barely knew. What was so interesting about that? Would they still want pictures if it was he and Mia walking into the restaurant, or did the blonde hold some strange charm he couldn't see?

The flashes must be getting to his head. Why was he still thinking about Mia right now? It had been three years. He couldn't still be pining for her. He shook his head and opened the door to the restaurant. The blonde—Vicki! Her name was Vicki!—put her hand on his back as she ushered him inside, swinging her head back for one last look at the photographers. Her lips were too red, he decided. He longed for the soft pink petals that had belonged to Mia.

What's wrong with me? Stop it now. There's no point in thinking about her.

It was definitely Rachel's wedding that was doing this to him. And the idea of going back to Oakville after all this time. At least he'd be going back rich. His parents had insisted on staying there, but then he'd insisted on buying them the nicest house in town, far away from the gutter they used to live in when he was growing up. Hell, maybe the town would even throw him a parade.

After dinner, Logan dropped Vicki at her apartment. Two other girls, pretty in an overdone, trampy sort of way, tried to help draw him inside. There was a time, right after Mia had dumped him, that he would gladly have accepted their invitation. Now he fought them off and headed back to his empty mansion. It was filled with priceless artwork his manager had insisted he buy because it was somehow good for his image. Except of course, there was no one but him to enjoy it or even look at it. Rachel and her fiancé Erik were hardly ever over here. She was too busy modeling, and he was too busy being absorbed by Hollywood. Rachel had told him she was keeping her house in San Francisco but moving down to Hollywood after the wedding. He wasn't sure what the point of it was. Why keep two houses when they're both going to be empty?

Disgusted with the strange and irritating melancholy he'd stirred within himself, he grabbed a suitcase from his closet and started to pack for Rachel's wedding. At least Rachel would be stuck in Oakville with him. There, he wouldn't be alone.

Chapter 3

Mia looked in the mirror for the third time, unable to believe she was doing this. Her natural blonde highlights were pulled up high on her head, piled into a sort of upside down ponytail that left soft golden waves falling around her face. Her dress was what she liked to call "new old," meaning it was new to her. She'd run to Goodwill after her morning shift and found it stacked in with the pinks and purples. It had spaghettis straps and soft pink cotton with magenta flowers printed all over. It looked very summery and she smiled, thinking that despite the slight yellow stains under the arms, and the tiny rip near the bottom hem, she looked pretty good. And it was only five dollars. Rachel would probably not even notice the small imperfections.

"You look pretty Mommy," Emma said from behind her. Mia turned and smiled. Sometimes Emma said something that made the last three years all worthwhile.

"I'm sorry I'm going out sweetie," she said, really meaning it. She hardly ever got any time with Emma these days. Work was constantly nagging at her. "I'm off tonight though, so I'll be home after dinner and we'll play dress up."

Emma's face lit up. "Princess?" she asked. Mia's smile faltered. "I haven't gotten the princess dress yet sweetie," Emma's face fell. "But soon, okay? It's still there, it's just waiting for Mommy to get paid next week." Fifty dollars was more than she'd paid for food this week. It would be worth it though to see Emma get something she wanted for once, instead of being told they couldn't afford it.

Mia kissed Emma goodbye and walked to the restaurant, looking for Rachel. Maybe I'm early. Better yet, maybe I'm late and they're already gone. Then she heard a voice peal through the air.

"Miaaaa! Aaahhh!" A woman with ultra-blonde curls and a skin tight dress ran up to her in six inch stilettos. "I can't believe it's you! It's been so long."

Mia shrank back slightly from this woman who only barely resembled the Rachel she'd grown up with. This Rachel was rich. She had clearly traveled the world. Mia had never left Oakville. "It's, er, nice to see you Rachel."

Rachel pulled her into a hug and Mia thought she could smell California on her. "Mia, this is my fiancé, Erik." Rachel shoved Erik towards her. Mia recognized him from some of his movies, but decided not to mention that or the two Razzies he'd won last year.

"Hi Erik," Mia said, extending her hand. "Nice to meet you.

He was tall and tan and wearing sunglasses that drooped far down his nose. He gave Mia a once over then pushed his glasses back up. "It's almost fall. Should you still be wearing a summer dress?" he asked.

Mia's cheeks burned crimson, from anger as much as from embarrassment. Rachel laughed off his comment and shuffled Mia into a chair. Erik started playing with his cell phone.

"So tell me," Rachel said. "How are you? Where do you practice now? Do you have your own law firm?" She turned to Erik, who wasn't listening, and said, "Mia got a full scholarship to Harvard you know. She wanted to be a lawyer so she could change the world." She turned back to Mia, beaming at her, proud of accomplishments Mia had never achieved.

"Er... I'm fine," Mia mumbled. "All good."

Rachel's expression clouded. "All good?" Her eyes began searching Mia's face. They stopped at the stains on Mia's dress, the ones she'd missed in her initial excitement, and the bags under Mia's eyes. "It looks like you haven't slept in a while," she said.

"Oh well, yeah," Mia coughed and grabbed for some water. "You know how it is."

Rachel was watching her with a strange expression that made Mia uncomfortable. "How come you didn't stay in touch?" she asked, hurt showing on her face.

"Oh." Mia wished she hadn't come. She should've stayed home with Emma. "I just... you know."

"No," Rachel said. "I don't know."

Mia started to feel heat rise in her chest. She had to get out of here before she said something stupid. "Look, I have to work later, so I should probably—"

"Work?" Mia squealed. Erik looked up from his phone, then immediately decided his phone was more interesting and looked back down. "Where's your office? You don't work here in Oakville, do you?"

Mia kicked herself for not being more careful. "Er, well, temporarily. You know."

Rachel stared at her with wide eyes. Finally, after an eternity, Rachel slid a gold embossed wedding invitation across the table. It had ultra-fancy lettering that looked impossible to read, and something that looked like a small diamond glued to the center of the invitation, between Rachel and Erik's names. Rachel saw Mia looking with wonder at the invitation. "It's real," she said happily. "The diamond, that is. Just wanted something a little different."

Mia sat in shocked silence. A real diamond? This single wedding invitation probably cost more than she made in a month. Rachel saw her staring and finally caught on. "It's just a diamond sliver. Hardly worth anything. More for show." There was a long silence as they listened to the bleeps on Erik's phone as he played some sort of game, completely oblivious to his surroundings. "You don't have to be in the wedding, but I really wish you'd be there. At least come to rehearsal dinner." Rachel's request sincere and should have been simple for Mia to consent to, but it was just the opposite.

"I should go," Mia said. She hadn't ordered anything to eat or drink except water. She hadn't even been there long enough to place an order, but it was still too long. She told Rachel she'd see what she could do, then ran from the restaurant before Rachel could ask any more questions.

Chapter 4

Logan arrived at his house in a limo sent by the city to meet him at the airport. There wasn't a parade exactly, but it was close enough. A line of people he didn't know streamed into his parents' house, waving at him as the limo parked in the curved driveway. He got out and a cheer went up. He waved back to everyone and saw his parents standing near the garage, smiling. He gave them each a hug then followed them inside.

The house was the same as when he'd bought it for them. Dark mahogany cabinets and floors ran throughout, creating the effect of living in a museum. Except that his mom had personalized the museum with a dozen cat figurines and roomfuls of football memorabilia, mostly from Logan's school days before he was drafted. They'd saved every photo, every newspaper clipping, every game ball Logan had ever earned.

It was nice seeing his parents, but it was strange seeing so many faces he didn't recognize. He poked his head out the window for another look and someone pulled at his hair, trying to get a souvenir. Out of the crowd who cooed and pawed at him, he saw his sister. "Rachel," he called. She waved and ran towards him. A few heads turned towards her, after all, she wasn't exactly a nobody. Her face graced the cover of countless magazines and billboards these days.

He still didn't understand her desire to get married back in Oakville. They could have easily flown their parents out to San Francisco or Los Angeles for the wedding. He supposed Rachel wanted to show off a little. Wanted her old friends and neighbors to see how well she'd done for herself. He didn't really blame her. It might be wrong of him, but he'd sorta liked seeing the jealous looks on men's faces when he'd shown up in a limo, and despite his weariness of nameless women, he appreciated the way all his hometown girls swooned at his arrival.

Rachel grabbed his arm and steered him into the backyard.

"See all the lights?" she asked. "We're gonna have those Chinese lanterns hanging everywhere in different colors."

"Like a disco?" he teased. She pinched his arm but didn't let him break her stride. The backyard was huge and she started walking him through it, giving him details he didn't really care about, but was contented listening to if it made her happy.

"And then I've had a stage built for the band. And the waiters are all going to be wearing imported Gloriosas in their lapels." She snuck a glance to see if he was appropriately impressed with her flower selection, but he had already started to tune her out. Expensive flowers weren't exactly front and foremost on the minds of football players.

"I don't suppose Mia is going to be here?" he asked.

Rachel shrugged her shoulders and sighed. "Who knows. I met up with her the other day but something wasn't right with her."

"What do you mean?" He'd never told Rachel about his relationship with Mia. It had been something private only the two of them had shared. That was one of the reasons he still treasured Mia's memory. He didn't have many private moments these days.

"Oh I don't know," Rachel said, surveying the yard. "Her dress... she just... I don't know," she shrugged again, exasperated. "She just doesn't look like a lawyer."

Logan felt his brow furrow and was glad there were no reporters in the yard to capture the moment. "Maybe she's not. I mean, law school can take a while. And it's hard, right? Maybe she's taking a break."

"Maybe... I don't think she even has a car. I can't imagine where she must be living. It's not with her parents."

"Wait a second," he stopped walking and turned to her. "You don't mean that she's living here again. In Oakville."

Mia shrugged and Logan wished she'd stopped doing that. "I'm not really sure. I tried talking to her yesterday at lunch but couldn't get one honest answer from her."

Logan couldn't believe Mia was in town, let alone the possibility that she was living here. He felt his old protectiveness returning, wanting to defend whatever choices she'd made. It was infuriating. He wished he could just stay bitter and resentful, rather than think of her with rainbows and lollipops. That wasn't a real image, that was just a fantasy he'd built up over time.

Rachel continue leading Logan around the yard, pointing out stuff he didn't care about and some of which he didn't even understand. He followed her around like a zombie. When she pointed out something called, "The Gold of Kinabalu," he kept looking around for a treasure chest until he finally picked up on the fact she was still talking about flowers.

Rachel stopped to chat with a group of girls she'd gone to high school with who'd somehow broken through the crowd and made their way inside. Logan searched their faces, wondering if maybe Mia might show up with one of them, but no such luck. As Rachel chatted though, she asked about Mia.

"Oh she works at Smart Mart. Ain't you kept in touch?"

Logan did a double take. "Did you say Smart Mart?"

She nodded. "Yeah, been workin' there for months."

"Years," another girl correct.

The first girl rolled her eyes. "Years, months, whatsa difference when you're in Oakville?"

The girl didn't realize it, but she'd just nailed the problem with Oakville down to a stroke. Time stopped here. It was just another reminder of how glad he'd been to get when he did. He wondered what on Earth could have dragged Mia back here after Harvard and the east coast. Maybe her parents were sick. But couldn't she have gotten a better job than Smart Mart?

He excused himself from the party, determined to find Mia and figure out what the hell was going on.

Chapter 5

It was another midnight shift. That is, it started around nine, and ended at five in the morning. Mia stood at an empty register. This was her punishment for turning down Mr. Rayner yet again. She was stuck on register her entire shift. She didn't even know why Smart Mart was open twenty-four hours. Hardly anyone ever came in after nine or ten. Small towns went to be early.

She stood there and played with her shoe. She tried to think of new, inventive ways to make it feel comfortable on her foot, instead of like itchy cardboard stuck together with tape. She stood on her tiptoes, leaned back on her heels, then looked around before daring to pull her foot out for a moment of sweet freedom. Mr. Rayner was watching her across the store, but he couldn't see her toes wiggling in her socks. She smiled at him. He scowled and walked in the opposite direction.

Hours passed. At least, it felt like hours, but when she looked at the clock it was only one. She'd rang up exactly three people since eleven. Strangely, they were all buying kitchen appliances. She looked at her register and set a brochure on the old train depot down on it, hoping that if Mr. Rayner saw her it would look like she was reading some interesting piece of work material, then let her eyes flutter shut.

They couldn't have been closed very long. The sounds of the store never faded from her ears.

"Hey." A deep voice shot out of the darkness, hitting her like a hammer.

Her eyelids snapped open and her head jerked to attention. She wasn't sure, but she thought she must've fallen asleep standing up. Is that even possible? But there was no other explanation for the voice she'd heard.

"Sorry," she said to her customer, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ears. "I was just..." When she looked up into Logan's eyes, she thought she was dreaming.

Crap. Wake up! Wake up before Mr. Rayner catches you!

When the image before her refused to fade, she slowly came to the realization that she was already awake. That was even worse. That meant that Logan Knight was standing in front of her, looking like he'd just stepped out of the pages of GQ, while she was stuck behind a register in her beige Smart Mart shirt and an old pair of jeans.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," he said, smiling.

How was she supposed to respond to that smile? "Hi," she finally said. Keep it short and sweet. Or at least short.

"How are you?" he asked. It was a perfectly normal question but it came out sounding stilted. The awkwardness of the situation was so thick it almost made the air around them unbreathable. "Do you work here?" he asked, then immediately regretted the question when Mia scrunched her face and tapped her name tag. "Right. Duh." He tried his smile again but Mia was looking for Mr. Rayner and missed it. She thought if she could say her boss was wandering the aisles it would be a good excuse to get rid of Logan. But there was no Mr. Rayner when she actually needed him.

She gave in a little, deciding it was better to talk to him than stand there like a statue. "I'm fine," she lied. "I guess I don't have to ask how you are."

He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe my life isn't what you read in the papers."

His eyes were just as mesmerizing as she remembered. Blue and perfect. It felt like he was hypnotizing her withthem. "Well..." she said, softening just a little. "So how are you really then?"

"Fine," he lied.

They stood opposite each other, nodding their heads, so many things to say yet neither of them having the courage to say them. Mia wanted to know what the hell Logan was doing here. He must be in town for Rachel's wedding, but why would he even step foot in Smart Mart?

As if reading her mind, Logan said, "I heard you worked here. I was looking for you."

Her heart thumped in her chest. "For me?" she whispered. "Why?"

He looked at her like she was nuts. "Why do you mean why? Because... because..." He was starting to stammer. Mia thought it was cute. "Because we have unfinished business."

Oh my God. He knows about Emma.

"When do you get off?" he asked, deciding to turn his charm all the way up and shoot her his million-dollar smile. The smile faltered a little when Mia showed no reaction.

"Not till five," she said.

"In the morning?" His eyes bugged out of his head. "That's right," she said. "And I think you should go before I get in trouble." She'd seen the way his eyes had lit upon her face. The smile he kept trying to charm her with. He didn't know about Emma, he just thought he could finagle a little action with her for old time's sake. But she wasn't about to give in to him, no matter how damned beguiling he was.

"Listen Mia, I've missed you."

Her mind raced. She reminded herself he was just trying to get her into bed. That was the only thing that made any sense. With millions of dollars and millions of women, it was ridiculous to think that Logan could have missed her. Her heart longed for it to be true, but her mind knew better.

"My boss is coming," she finally said, just to get rid of him. Mr. Rayner was probably sleeping in the back."

"I'm not—"

"Leave Logan, before you get me fired."

His eyes looked hurt, and for a second Mia felt bad. But then she remembered the womanizing he was so known for, and felt justified in sending him away. When she didn't say anything else, Logan turned his back to her and left the store. Mia relaxed her shoulders, then burst into tears.

Chapter 6

Once five o'clock hit, Logan started to question just what he was doing. Mia had obviously changed since he'd last seen her. He'd hit her full throttle with his million-dollar smile and she'd had no reaction whatsoever. So why was he standing outside, waiting for her like a schmuck?

Apparently I'm a sucker for heartache.

He laughed to himself. If his friends could hear him they'd say he was a pansy. Football players were tough. They didn't have feelings. The only place they could get hurt was on the field. It was an image Logan had cultivated well, but finally come to loathe. He looked up and saw Mia crossing the parking lot.

"Mia," he shouted, running over to her.

She jumped and looked wildly around until her eyes found his and settled there.

"Sorry," he said, "did I scare you?"

She broke into a smile to rival the approaching dawn and shook her head, laughing. "Maybe a little. I'm not used to people stalking me." There was a hesitation in her voice, which was still as soft and sensual as ever. It almost seemed like she didn't trust herself around him.

"I'm not stalking you," he said. "But maybe I should. You look good." It was true. Though she clearly wasn't the same Mia he'd left in Oakville three years ago, her looks had only improved. He'd already thought she was beautiful before, but now her hair had more gold. Her eyes had more caramel. He wondered if it was only that he hadn't seen her in so long, or had she really gotten prettier with time?

She blushed and her pink lips formed into a perfect "oh" as she opened her mouth. "You too," she said. "Look good, I mean." Then it seemed like some unseen force smacked the back of her head and her smile faded. She did a complete turnaround. Instead of the soft, almost demure way she had paused and looked at him, her eyes darkened and she turned abruptly on her heels. "I have to go."

He couldn't believe it. She was leaving. Again. "Wait!" he called. "I came all this way to see you, won't you at least talk to me? Let me buy you breakfast. You must be hungry."

She paused mid-stride and Logan jumped on her before she could run.

"Where's your car? You can follow me to Maui's. It's still there, right?"

"Yes..."

"Good. Then let's go."

"I don't have a car," she said, as if that somehow prevented her from eating breakfast. "I have to get home. I... I don't have time for Maui's."

He wouldn't relent though. He was desperate to get her to talk to him. "What about Lou's? Everyone has time for fast food. Right?" But she just stood there, uncertain. "It's drive-thru Mia. Come on. What's so important at home you don't have time for drive-thru?"

Finally, Mia consented. It was his scent. Ocean breeze wafted through the air and filled her like oxygen. He smelled good, and the parts of her that had been hidden away for the last three years—the parts that belonged to a young woman—began to power on.

"But we can eat and drive, right? We don't have to sit there?"

He nodded before she could change her mind, at the same time kicking himself for being so eager to please her. She'd dumped him in an email. He couldn’t forget that, no matter how good she looked or how much his heart sang when he was near her. He realized he might be acting a little pathetic, but this new knowledge wasn't enough to stop him from opening the car door for her.

Mia's eyes widened when she slid into his red Corvette. "Is this a rental?" she gulped, hoping he'd say yes.

"No, I bought it for my parents a while back. I'm just borrowing it while I'm here. I hate rentals."

"Oh." Logan was clearly living in a different world than hers. She instantly regretted getting in the car with him. The richness of it suffocated her. They drove to Lou's and Mia hesitated before asking, "Um, do you think it would be alright if I got an extra burger to take home?" She was thinking of Emma and what a treat Lou's would be for her.

Logan smiled and said "of course," but immediately assumed she must have a boyfriend she lived with. He resented buying food for her lover. He should have listened to his inner voice. This had all been a huge mistake.

"Where do you live?" he finally asked, deciding he should just take her home.

"Harvest Road," she mumbled, not meeting his eyes.

Logan thought he did a pretty good job of hiding his shock. Harvest Road had always been for hookers and druggies. No decent person was found there. Even his family, as poor as they'd been, had avoided Harvest Road. "Is that where your boyfriend lives?" he asked, disgusted.

"No," she said a little defensively. "That's where I live."

They were just approaching Harvest when he decided he couldn't take this anymore and gave in to the thoughts eating away at him. His head snapped around and Mia shouted, "Watch the road."

He slammed on the breaks and pulled over in front of an old apartment building that looked like it was probably run by homeless people. His mind was racing. "Okay Mia, what's going on?"

"What do you mean?" she asked. Her heart hammered in her chest. "Why did you stop?"

"Because I want to know what you're doing living on Harvest Road. And working at Smart Mart. And not at Harvard. When did you even get back from the east coast?"

Mia's lips trembled and Logan felt bad for yelling, but she was driving him crazy with her vague answers and her weepy eyes that were so beautiful in the breaking dawn they made his head buzz.

"I... I..."

"You what?" he demanded. "Just tell me."

The tears ran from her eyes in thick waves stained with anger and embarrassment. "I never went to Harvard," she finally exclaimed. "I lost the scholarship. I never left Oakville." Giant sobs shook her shoulders and Mia opened the door and ran from Logan's car into the building that he'd thought was waiting to be bulldozed.

He sat watching her go, too shocked to follow her except with his eyes. "Mia," he finally managed to whisper and stretched a hand towards her open door. But it was too late. She ran into her apartment and shut the door, closing him out.

Chapter 7

Rachel was driving Mia crazy. She texted her all morning. It was her one day off this week and she was trying to enjoy playing with Emma. Luckily, the wedding was tomorrow and soon both Rachel and Logan would be out of her life for good. But she couldn't keep avoiding Mia, it was just creating more questions and Logan was already suspicious. She finally responded to one of Mia's texts, agreeing to meet her at her parents' place for a late lunch. She called Tera, who was making a small fortune off Mia in babysitting money, and asked her to come by for a couple of hours. She didn't think a visit with Rachel would take longer than that; she wouldn't let it.

At four Mia showed up to Rachel's. She'd had to walk from the bus stop, but it wasn't too far and she could use the exercise. She'd heard about the place Logan had bought his parents after getting drafted by the NFL, but seeing it in person was sort of spellbinding, especially done up for the wedding. The long driveway curved towards the house, creating a masterful scene as it wove its way towards dark gray stones and spires, just like a castle. It almost looked like a real one, and given the multi-millions Logan—and Rachel too for that matter—were supposed to have, Mia couldn't be sure it wasn't a real castle, imported from Europe and reconstructed here in dinky little Oakville.

Different colored Chinese lanterns were strung from invisible wires across the front and back yards. Mia had no idea how they'd done it, but it actually looked like the lights were floating in mid-air. She walked up the driveway, the hair on her arms standing up. Her breath was sharp and shallow. She didn't like being here. The door opened and Rachel stepped out with a wide smile.

"Hi," she cried, running towards Mia like it was old times. Mia accepted the hug but hung back when Rachel stepped inside. "Come on," she said, pulling her arm. "The house isn't gonna bite." She led Mia up to a spare bedroom that was serving as the pre-honeymoon chamber. It was decorated in soft French lace and looked like something straight out of a magazine.

"So," Rachel said. "Smart Mart huh? What happened to Harvard?"

Rachel always had a way of cutting right to things. Mia shrugged and raised her shoulders. "Things happen," she said. "Life doesn't work according to plan." She looked at Rachel, surrounded by designer clothes and plush carpet. "Except maybe for you and Logan."

Rachel sat on her bed, staring up at Mia with eyes that hinted at something she wasn't sure she should ask. "Was it drugs?" she almost whispered.

Mia burst out laughing in spite of her discomfort.

"No," she said. "It wasn't drugs."

Rachel let out a long sigh of relief. "Good. Though I wouldn't judge if it was and I could totally help you." She smiled and Mia saw why she was such a good model. A perfect mouth, with perfect blonde hair falling in ringlets. She was made for the camera.

"So," Rachel whispered, more conspiratorially this time. "Was it a boy?" She half winked at me and I felt the blood drain from my face. Logan and I had never told Rachel about us. We weren't sure how she would react. It had been my excuse for breaking things off with him so long ago. I'd told him I couldn't keep seeing him because I was afraid it would hurt Rachel.

A few weeks ago at work, I'd read my horoscope in some magazine in the break room. I'd been regretting it ever since. It had told me that I was cursed with bad luck. Forever. Okay, maybe it didn't say forever, but you had to read between the lines. My fears were now confirmed when there was a light tap on Rachel's door and Logan stepped inside. His eyes registered surprise and I immediately looked away, embarrassed at the way I'd left things with him the other night.

Logan stood there for a second with a dumb expression on his face before Rachel finally said, "Well? Did you want something?"

He looked startled, like he'd forgotten she was there, then said, "Yeah. Mom wants to know how many of those little swan vase thingies should go on each table."

Rachel's eyes widened in alarm. "Those don't go on the tables!" she shrieked, jumping off the bed and running out the door. She paused just long enough to turn her head and say to Mia, "We're not done here. And you're coming to the rehearsal tomorrow, whether you want to or not." She turned to Logan. "Talk her into it, will you?" Then she ran down the stairs before her mom could misplace the swan vase thingies that would, apparently, make or break this wedding.

Logan and Mia were left alone in the room. There was an awkward silence before Logan finally said, "So, you're going to the dinner?"

Mia shrugged.

"You want to talk about it?"

"About what?" she asked.

He rolled his eyes. "About all of it. Why are you living in that... place? And what happened to Harvard and law school?" Logan felt his blood boiling. "And what happened to us?" He took a step towards Mia and she wished she could pull her eyes away and run, but something about his face glued her to her seat. "The last time I saw you..."

Mia knew what he meant. The last time they'd seen each other was her eighteenth birthday party, when they'd made love and declared a commitment that seemed naïve now. There had been promises made... to always be together, to always be honest with each other. Mia had broken each of them.

Logan read the memory in her eyes. He could almost always tell what she was thinking. "Why did you dump me like that?" he asked.

"I..." Mia had started to say she didn't, but of course that wasn't true. She'd sent him an email saying they couldn't be together anymore and blaming her friendship with Rachel as the reason. Was it too late to tell him about Emma? She'd come this far alone. Even if she wanted to tell him, now was not the time. "I told you why."

He shook his head and sat on Rachel's bed, dropping his head between his knees. "Fine," he said. "Don't tell me. But you owe me, for the way you left. Do something for me."

Mia stared at him, her breath caught in her throat. "What?"

"Be my date for Rachel's wedding."

"I can't," she said without thinking it over. "I have to work."

"At Smart Mart?" he said, sounding cynical.

"Yes," she said, getting defensive. "At Smart Mart. And there's nothing wrong with that. I have to make money somehow. What do you think? That me and Em—" Her face went white as she realized what she'd almost said.

Logan was watching her, looking confused. He opened his mouth and she interrupted. "Fine," she said, hoping to stop him from asking whatever was on the tip of his tongue. "I'll go with you to the rehearsal, not the wedding."

"Okay," he said, "sure." In the back of his mind though, he thought that if he could get her to the rehearsal, he could get her to the wedding too.

Chapter 8

Logan decided that being back in Oakville definitely had some advantages. He just couldn't decide if Mia was one of them or not. She'd broken his heart when she left him, and every woman he'd hooked up with since then had been but a pale comparison. He realized now that he'd been trying to fill Mia's void with meaningless relationships so he wouldn't get hurt again.

He opened the door to the Steak Shark Bar and Grille. He wasn't surprised to find that it was still here—Oakville was only so big. Once a store opened in a small town, it generally stayed open. Everyone knew the owners of Steak Shark. If someone from an outside town had tried to put up a new bar, no one would have gone.

Logan raised his hand and waved to his old friends as he entered. Johnny saw him first.

"Hey! Look who's here, the wild man of football." His friends started chanting and yelling, "Uuhhooough Uuhhoough," and soon the whole place had their eyes on Logan. He had to admit, it felt good being the center of attention.

"A round for everybody," he shouted to the bartender. "On me!" He'd always wanted to say that. The crowd at Steak Shark cheered and someone shoved a beer into his hand. He thought a beer sounded like a great idea, maybe even something a stronger. If he drank enough, maybe he'd be able to forget about Mia for the rest of his trip. It was only a couple more days.

Soon Logan was walking lopsided. How'd I get so drunk so fast? He wondered. I've only been here a few minutes. He pulled on Rob's arm and when Rob turned his head, Logan asked what time it was.

"Midnight thirty," Rob said, laughing. He was drunk too.

Logan did a double take. Twelve-thirty? That meant Logan had been here at least three hours, not three minutes.

"I gotta go," he said. His words slurred together but they were clear enough that his friends understood him and started shouting.

"What do you mean go?" Anthony asked loud enough to draw attention. He sounded angry.

"Yeah!" someone else he couldn't identify yelled. "The least a money bags like you can do is buy another round for us working stiffs."

"That's right," Rob chimed in. "And I need a new car." He laughed but his eyes were hard and looked at Logan like he was a dollar sign instead of a person. Logan was suddenly uncomfortable. He signaled to the bartender to give everyone another round on him, then began gathering his things.

"Now, really. I have to go." Logan said, making his way to the bartender. He asked how much his tab was, and was floored to find that it was over a thousand dollars. One thousand dollars in three hours? That didn't seem possible. He started to call Johnny over to help him sort it out, when suddenly he realized that most of the town who was over twenty-one was here in this bar. And they were all buying drinks off him. These people were using him. And the bartender was a part of it.

He felt disgusted and handed the bartender his credit card with a slow churn growing in his stomach. Better to just pay and be done with it. Outside, he stood beside his car for a minute, wondering whether or not he was okay to drive. When he realized he was seeing two of everything, he decided to walk.

He took River Road, startled by the unchanged landscape around him. The cross street up ahead was Harvest Road. Mia. The thought struck him like a lightning bolt that Mia was the only one in this town who hadn't asked him for anything. She hadn't even wanted to see him when he'd turned up at her job. She was the only one he could really trust... except that he knew she was keeping something from him.

His feet veered down Harvest without even thinking about it. He stood outside Mia's building, a combination of anger and passion swelling inside him. "Mia!" he shouted. "Mia!" He was going to get some answers tonight. He didn't know what her problem with him was, but he wasn't leaving until he found out.

"MIA!!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.

A light went on in a fourth floor window and Mia's head poked out. She rubbed her eyes. Good, he'd woken her up. "Logan?" she asked, blinking.

He felt like Romeo and Juliet. Sudden inspiration hit him. He ran towards the fire escape that scaled her building and started to climb. Mia's initial reaction was to shut the window. She couldn't let him in. He saw her close it but kept climbing, not caring. When he got to the fourth floor her window was shut but not locked. He pried it open and put one foot through. She stood staring at him.

"Logan! You can't come in here. What are you doing?"

"I'm saving you," he said, not thinking about his words, just spitting out the first thing that came into his head.

"Saving me from what?" she demanded.

"Yourself," he said, climbing the rest of the way inside. Mia tried to push him back out but it was too late. "I'm not leaving until you tell me what the hell is going on," he said.

"Oh crap. You're drunk."

"Yeah I'm drunk. So what?"

"Logan. Lower your voice."

"Why? Scared your neighbors will hear? Well I DON"T CARE! LET THEM H—"

That was when a sleepy, dewy eyed toddler with blonde hair and Mia's skin walked into the living room. "Mommy?" she asked, looking frightened.

Mia glared at Logan, who stood with his mouth hanging open. "It's okay sweetie," Mia said, going to her daughter. "This is Logan. He's a friend of Mommy's. Logan... this is Emma. My daughter."

Logan's heart stopped beating. Emma smiled tentatively at him, and he thought he smiled back.

"Let's get you back into bed, alright? Logan's sorry he was so loud and rude." She threw him a look and took Emma into the back. Logan stood there feeling numb. He didn't know what to think. Emma... Mia's daughter. She was small. Maybe three or four at the most. When did Mia...

Mia walked back into the room and Logan watched her move. It was like he was seeing her for the first time. "Emma..." he said. "How old is she?"

Mia turned her head a fraction of an inch so that he couldn't see her eyes. "Three."

Logan gulped. Suddenly he was sober. "Is she... mine?"

Mia laughed, then shook her head no, but she refused to look at him.

"Is she?" he repeated.

Finally, Mia looked up and said, "You're drunk. There's a pillow and blanket on the couch. You can sleep it off here if you want, but leave before Emma wakes up please." Then she turned and left him alone with crazy thoughts that scared him more than the idea of never playing football again.

Chapter 9

Mia laid in the dark with her eyes open. She listened to her breath and felt the weight of the situation she'd made for herself. What a mess. What was she supposed to do now? Was she really going to lie to Logan forever? Was it fair to Emma? Especially with Logan in the next room? She felt sick and wished this was all a bad dream.

She'd been in bed for at least an hour and was sure that Logan must be asleep by now. She couldn't resist because she couldn't stop thinking about him. She got out of bed, wrapped a robe around her nightshirt, and stole a peek at him on her couch. His breath was shallow and worried, his brow furled against the cushions. She leaned closer to him, wanting to see how much of him was in Emma. She was close enough to feel his breath on her face, then his eyes flew open and Mia screamed.

"Shit!" she said, putting her hand over her mouth. "Don't scare me like that."

"Don't scare you?" he whispered. "You're the one hovering over me while I sleep."

"Pretend to sleep," she said. "Weirdo."

"Crazy woman." They glared at each other for a second before the corners of their lips curled up and they started laughing. It felt so good to laugh again that for a second Mia forgot all about the lies and secrets and doubts.

"Sshh," she said. "Emma will wake up."

"Let's go to your room then."

She hesitated. "We can close the door," he said. "It'll be quieter. I'd like to talk a little."

Finally, she nodded. He followed her into her tiny room with her twin bed and old dresser. She was embarrassed when she realized there was nowhere for him to sit except the floor or the bed. He chose the bed. She sat next to him. The energy in the room was buzzing. She felt the air move around them, saw lightning strike, heard thunder inside her head as Logan breathed next to her.

"She's really not mine?" he finally said, breaking the silence.

Mia considered her answer. She'd missed Logan. She'd never gotten over him. But she didn't want him suddenly back in her life just because she'd gotten pregnant. That wasn't fair to any of them. "She's really not." Then, just for good measure, "I slept with lots of guys in high school. You weren't the only one Logan." She hoped she sounded sincere, but he just laughed.

"Yeah, you were a real pro that night we were together."

She looked at him with wide eyes. "What do you mean? Are you saying I was bad in bed?"

"On the contrary," he said, looking at her with deep blue eyes that sunk into her like a stone on a lake. "That night was the best night of my life."

Mia wanted to laugh, but couldn’t find voice enough to do it.

"Tell me you don't still care about me," he said.

She looked away and he reached out with his hand, placing it on her cheek, and forced her to turn back to him. "Don't look away. Just say it. Tell me."

She felt her eyes trying to run from his and knew she couldn't lie. Not now. Not when they were so close, when his hand was pressing against her face. "I've never forgotten you," she said.

Logan smiled. "Knew it," he said. Then he reached out and tickled her. It was so unexpected that Mia cried out and jumped back in her bed. Logan got on top of her, straddling her while his hands ran over her clothes, up and down her body, covering her with tickles. Then the tickling stopped, and Logan was moving his head towards her.

Mia tried to draw away from him but his hold was too powerful. She wanted him too much. His lips brushed hers and her body trembled. She felt his hands shake as he pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. "You know I still love you," he whispered.

She nodded and opened her mouth, uncertain what might come out. "I..." but she couldn't finish the thought. The fact that she'd started the sentence was enough for Logan, for now. He pressed his lips to hers and she tasted honey. His skin was warm and tan and his muscles made her feel safe when he took her in his arms.

Logan was the only person Mia had ever slept with. She thought she'd never have these feelings again, for anyone, but when he pushed the robe from her shoulders her heart quivered and her mind didn't protest. Her nightshirt was large and hung past her thighs, but stopped above her knees. Logan lifted it up and her breasts fell out, creamy except for the strawberry nipple that stood at center attention. Mia couldn't believe this was happening. Her heart ran a race inside her chest, beating against her like a drum. Logan's tongue ran over pink soldiers and carried waves of undiluted passion through her blood, landing at all the most important ports.

Mia's thighs clenched and unclenched. Logan's body was so hard. He pressed his core against her and Mia shuddered under him. Tears welled up as she remembered the last time they were together. She'd been so happy that night.

"Mia," Logan said, alarmed. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" She shook her head, feeling foolish. "I'm fine, I just... I don't think I knew how much I needed you till now."

Logan caressed her neck with his tongue and with his hand reached between Mia's legs. He found her soft mound and rubbed its center with delicate strokes of his large fingers. Her body melted and when she opened her eyes they burned with a dormant passion that she had to fulfill or die trying. She lifted Logan's shirt over his head and was astonished at the mass of muscles under the cotton. She'd thought chests like this only existed in Photoshop.

She reached towards him with her tongue, wanting to taste him. His body quivered as she licked him. He was champagne and strawberries as she ran her tongue across his abdomen, examining the nooks and crannies of his muscles as she went. When his chest wasn't enough for her anymore, she undid his belt and helped him kick his pants to the floor.

Chapter 10

Logan felt Mia's body tremble under his and it nearly undid him. He'd dreamt of this moment since the last time they were together. He didn't want to rush things. He sensed she had an enduring strength beneath her soft skin and moist, pink lips—it took a strong woman to care for a child on her own—but someone had hurt her. They'd left scars along with Emma. If he ever found out who it was that had left her alone with a child to raise, he'd break their body in half.

He found the tip of Mia's nose and kissed it tenderly, drawing more giggles from her. Her laughter was like music to him, and he let his ear drums swallow the sound like she was a concert pianist playing just for him. His hands ran up and over her breasts. They were cream colored satin under his fingers, rising towards him like mountains. He didn't remember them like this and wondered if they'd gotten bigger after the baby. It didn't matter. Small, medium, or large, she was more of a woman than the over-plasticized bleach blondes people thought he was so fond of. It was incredible to have someone so warm and real in bed with him. He'd missed Mia more than she would probably believe.

His lips ran over her skin, sailing across her abdomen and over her hips, down to her thighs. He found that special spot between them that made her body thrash. His tongue flicked along the delicacy of her sex. She still tasted like mangoes to him, even after all these years. Mia placed her hands, so soft and warm, on his head, holding him to her. The sweetness of her body was like soft electricity charging his erection, and when her thighs clenched he knew he was fully charged. He took one last draw of her mango scent before moving back to her breasts, and then her neck.

The rest of her smelled like cinnamon. He used to think it was something in her body wash, but now he knew her skin simply cultivated sweetness. He slid his tongue along her body, around her nipples, like sweet pink strawberries. They seemed to be standing there waiting for him to suckle, and he didn't want to disappoint them. Her body was the magic he'd been waiting for the last three years, the magic that he needed to make him feel whole again.

When she lifted his shirt over his head he thought his heart might burst. Finally, it wasn't just him chasing her, it was her chasing him back. A fervor like he'd never known gripped them both. Mia's fingers tore at his belt buckle and undid them with hands so soft he thought they must be made of cotton. Mia's panties, a faded pink silk, were on the floor the second after his pants were off. She pressed herself against him, wrapping her legs around him and pulling him to her. He felt her desire and craved her with the same passion.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked. He told himself the question was for her sake, but really it was for his. She'd broken his heart once, was he ready to give it back? What would she do with it a second time?

But her breath was so sweet and her golden hair shined in the moonlight like a treasure chest. When she said, "Yes, do it," and spread her legs for him, he couldn't have stopped his body if he'd wanted to. Thankfully, his mind decided to play along for now, and let him believe this was all real.

He slipped into her with the ease of a practiced lover, though they'd only been together the one time. It was like their bodies had been created for each other. She moaned and arched her back. Logan tried to control himself. His heart throbbed in his chest and his ass clenched tight as he moved against her. She brought her hips up to meet his, reaching around him and grabbing his backside, guiding him into her. Her skin was so soft outside, and inside her body was the warm bath he'd been waiting for since leaving Oakville three years ago.

The room was dark except for the moon and stars that refused to be kept out, invading their space through a cracked window in the corner of Mia's room. The light began to pulse around them as Logan pressed his manhood to her, Mia receiving him like a good massage. Her hair whipped wildly around her head, as if a strong wind was blowing her, an unseen force in the sensual darkness.

Electric heat sprung from their bodies as they molded themselves together. Logan moved his body faster and felt Mia tighten. The light pulse surrounding them quickened, flashing with a growing urgency, getting brighter and brighter until Mia dug her nails into Logan's back and moaned under him, her back arching like an acrobat's. Her skin was warm and soft and when she smiled it was like she'd offered him a slice of apple pie. Logan saw a billion stars. He felt as if he'd suddenly been shot into space and was seeing what only the privileged few got to see in a life time. Their bodies rose together far into heaven and everything around them went white.

Logan fell beside her on the mattress, smiling. She smiled back. His body was still hot next to hers, his breath like sun against her neck. "That was fun," she said. "Why didn't we do that last night?" Logan laughed and wrapped her in his arms, happy for once to be back home.

Chapter 11

Mia woke to the sun hitting her eyelids, which she was trying desperately to keep pasted shut. There were strange sounds coming from the living room. Laughter and voices; she could almost hear them smiling. She lifted her head off her pillow and put on a T-shirt and jeans. She had to work, but not for a few hours.

Somehow, she'd thought she would find Tera sitting in the living room playing with Emma. It never factored into her mind that Logan might still be here. Her jaw hit the floor when she saw him high five Emma, who curled to the floor in a fit of laughter. Blonde ringlets circled her head like a halo. Did Logan curl her hair? Emma looked up just then and squealed.

"Mommy!"

Mia threw a look at Logan that said she was not happy about this, but then she wondered why she shouldn't be. Here was Logan, playing with his daughter. For the first time in her short life, Emma had a father. Only, neither of them knew it. Mia's head swam with mixed emotions. She felt light headed and made her way to the couch, sinking more than sitting into the tired old cushions.

"Are you alright?" Logan asked, jumping up and kneeling beside her. Concern was etched on his face and Mia felt guilt overwhelm her as he pulled her hand into his.

She nodded. "Fine, fine. Just... thirsty." It was all she could think to say. Logan immediately went into the kitchen. She heard him shuffling around and then he called, "Don't you have anything to drink. Orange juice or something?"

Mia shook her head then remembered Logan was in the kitchen. "No," she called out. "I need to go shopping." The truth was, Mia was trying to hold out for a few more days until the next round of food stamps kicked in. "Water's fine," she said.

"Just tap water," Mia said. Emma laid her head in Mia's lap and looked up at her with wide blue eyes that seemed to beg for something Mia wasn't sure she could give.

"I like him," Emma whispered.

Logan appeared with water, which he handed to her in a warped plastic cup she was sure was the best he could fine in her cupboard, then scooped up a delighted Emma and said, "Get dressed. I'm taking us out to breakfast."

Mia shook her head but Emma was already running around the room, squealing with excitement. "I have to work," Mia said lamely.

"No. The wedding rehearsal is today. You said you'd go with me. Come eat with us, then I'm gonna go help Rachel for a while and I'll be back later tonight to pick you up."

Mia was shaking her head, trying to protest, but Logan's eyes were so blue. His face so set. And Emma... she was zipping around the room like a butterfly. Mia finally consented.

The three of them walked to a nearby restaurant that wasn't on Harvest Road, but also wasn't far from it. It was both clean and dirty. The booths were cracked and old, the tile floor pasted with dirt stains, but the silverware sparkled and the food smelled good. Breakfast was fun, but it was also weird. Logan kept staring at Emma. Mia saw him doing the calculations in his head and wanted to yell at him to stop. That it was none of his business. Most guys would be happy to hear that the kid wasn't theirs. What was wrong with Logan anyway? His eyes darted back and forth from Emma to Mia and back again.

"So Emma," he said after a plate of French toast was delivered to her. She looked up to him, smiling. "Where's your dad?"

Mia's jaw tightened and her lips went blue. She had to bite her tongue to stop from yelling at Logan. Instead, she kicked him under the table. But it was too late. Emma was answering.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "Mommy doesn't like to talk about him. She says he's famous and lives far away somewhere, but I don't know where. Do you know Mommy?" She turned her small head to Mia and looked at her with accusing eyes. Mia thought that was probably in her head, Emma wasn't really accusing her of anything, but the guilt still lingered.

Mia sat fuming, glaring at Logan. She wanted to leave but didn't want to make a scene. "I think we're done here," she said. Emma looked at her plate of French toast and her eyes welled up.

"I can't finish?" Emma asked with tears sitting in her eyes.

"Just take big bites," Mia said, softening her voice. "I have to go to work."

Logan shot her a look. "I thought we agreed," he said. He looked genuinely hurt and for a moment Mia felt her guilt double. "You said you'd go to the wedding rehearsal with me."

Emma's squeal peeled across the restaurant. "Wedding? Who Mommy?"

Mia turned to Emma. "No one you know. An old friend of Mommy's."

Emma scrunched her face up. "Like Logan?" Mia nodded, wanting this conversation to end. "Can I go?" Emma asked.

Now Mia turned on her. "No!" Emma's face crumbled and Mia instantly regretted the outburst. "Neither of us are going," she said, trying to soothe her now. "We can't. We don't have dresses."

Logan's ears perked up. "Is that all it is?" Mia looked at him to see if he was joking. "What kind of dress do you want?"

"Princess dress!" Emma cried. "Like the one at Mommy's job."

Mia slammed her hand onto the table, startling all three of them and drawing looks from others. "We can't go," she repeated. "I have to work." She stood up and dragged Emma to the door. Logan followed, sullen, and walked them back to Mia's apartment with a pleading look in his eyes. Mia hesitated, then pushed Emma inside and shut the door on Logan.

Chapter 12

Logan was in the middle of stringing up some lights when Rachel poked him in the back. "Where were you last night?" she asked with a sly smile.

"Out," he snarled.

Her eyes flickered with irritation but instead of backing off she continued. "Out where? With who?"

"Nowhere," he said. "With no one." He took two giant steps away from her but heard the crunch of the grass under her feet as she followed.

"What's with you?" she asked. "My wedding's tomorrorow. You're supposed to be nice to the bride. "

"Who's not being nice?" he demanded.

She looked at him incredulous, then finally gave up and decided to leave him with whatever was causing his foul mood. He stared after her, feeling guilty for snapping at her. She hadn't done anything. Except introduce him to Mia.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. Mia had cut him off years ago without any explanation—unless of course you counted that bullshit about not wanting to hurt Rachel. Emma was three. The last time—the only time, until last night—that he'd been with Mia was three years ago. Emma even looked like him. Mia had brown eyes. They were beautiful, but they were brown. Emma's were blue. They reminded him of a fresh, bright sky at the start of a new day. Mia's hair was golden. His was sandy. More dishwater blond than the treasure chest Mia had. Emma's was right between the two colors, an amalgam of the two of them. Everything fit physically.

Then there was that stuff Emma said about her dad being famous and living far away. That could have just been some story that Mia had told Emma, but what if it wasn't? Logan didn't usually think of himself as famous, but his picture was in the papers a lot, and he was on television. And California was certainly a far cray from Oakville.

Logan parents still lived here. They'd never left. He didn't understand how they didn't know more. How no one in this town could give him any answers. And what about Rachel? She used to be Mia's best friend. She must know something.

He went up the stairs to her room—it was actually her and Erik's room, but he'd somehow managed to hide out since his arrival, not to be seen except perhaps at dinner time.  Logan didn't get what she saw in him—he was kind of a dick. He knocked on her door. It was a light rap at first, but when Rachel didn't answer he started pounding on it.

"For God's sake," Rachel screamed from down the hall. "I'm in here!"

He knew he was on the verge of throwing a temper tantrum, and tried to check himself. He marched down the hall to find Rachel in their parents' room trying on her veil.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Seeing which earrings look best with this veil," she said, looking in the mirror. Her voice was cool and crisp. She didn't turn to look at him, and Logan knew she was still mad.

"Sorry I snapped at you before," he said.

Though she was pretending not to look at him, Logan saw her eyes slid sideways and catch a peek at him. He knew was forgiven. "Is Mia coming to the rehearsal tonight? Who's coming tomorrow?" he asked. "I mean, has Mia decided on anything?" He was stumbling over his words and felt like an idiot. Luckily for him, Rachel was too reoccupied to notice anything weird.

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "No. At least, I don't think so. You know, I don't know what's happened to her. How do you go from Harvard law to Smart Mart over night?"

Logan shrugged. "Don't Mom and Dad know anything? Or some of your friends? It's a small town, someone must know something."

"You'd think, right? But apparently Mia's super mysterious. She doesn't go anywhere or do anything. No one knows anything about her except for her job at Smart Mart. That's the one thing everyone seems to agree on." Mia shook her head. "I feel bad for her. It sounds like she has zero social life, and a bad job on top of that. No wonder she hides herself away, she's probably miserable."

"You really don't know anything else?" he asked, trying to hide his disappointment.

Rachel glanced at him. "No. Why do you care so much?" Rachel was looking at him a little too closely now. Logan felt the heat rise back up in him.

"Did you ever stop to think that the reason you don't know anything about her is because you're a spoiled brat who only cares about themselves?" Logan shifted on his feet, knowing full well that he was blowing up at Rachel for no reason, but unable to stop himself.

"I am not spoiled," she said, then smirked. "At least no more than you are." He paused in his exit.

"I'm not spoiled," he said. "I worked hard to get where I am."

"Yeah? Well me too." They glared at each other from across the room until Logan stormed off, deciding to go ahead and wallow in his tantrum for a while longer.

Chapter 13

Mia stared at the clock on her wall. She had no idea whether or not Logan was going to show up. She'd felt so guilty after breakfast that she'd meandered around her apartment, half-heartedly playing with Emma, before finally texting him that she'd go to the stupid dinner. Then she'd called Mr. Rayner and told him Emma was sick. He'd been less than thrilled but surprisingly understanding.

Logan had texted back that he'd pick her up at six. Now six o'clock had come around and Logan still wasn't here. She was about to tell Tera to go home, that she wouldn't need a babysitter tonight after all, when there was a light knock on her door. She opened it to find Logan standing on the outside landing, flowers in his hand. Mia's heart melted. She hadn't realized till this very second how much she really wanted to see him again. She quickly turned her head so Logan wouldn't see the momentary tears well up in her eyes.

He handed her the flowers which she put into water, and said hello to Emma, who tried to crawl up his legs. "I won't be back too late," Mia said and kissed Emma's head. Emma waved to them from the window and they both waved back. It wasn't until they were in Logan's car that Mia realized he hadn't said one word to her since he'd knocked on her door. He'd silently handed her the flowers. He'd silently stepped inside when she asked him to come in. He'd spoken to Emma, but not to her. She glanced at him in the driver's seat.

"I'm really sorry about breakfast," she said. "Emma loved her French toast." He didn't say anything but at least he looked at her. She felt herself getting irritated. What right did he have to be mad? He'd crossed a line today. "You shouldn't have asked Emma all those questions you know. That wasn't right."

"What is right then?" he snapped. "Not telling Emma who her father is? Does the father know?"

Mia fought back the tears that constantly seemed to be threatening to spill over lately. "None of your business," she said.

They drove the rest of the way in silence. When they got to the dinner, Logan didn't even open the car door for her, he just went straight inside. Mia followed after him, wishing she'd gone to work after all. Maybe it wasn't too late to get out of this. Then Rachel saw her and swooped in, throwing her arms around her and telling Mia how happy she was that she'd come.

"Well, your brother dragged me," Mia said. Rachel shot Logan a grateful look, but he ignored them both, choosing to focus on the scotch at the bar instead. He poured himself a drink and only allowed himself a quick glance at Mia when she turned her back and couldn't see him looking.

Dinner was nice, except for the awkward silence between Mia and Logan. Luckily, no one else seemed aware of it. They were too busy making speeches, listening to speeches, and stuffing their faces with free food. After dessert had been served Mia found Logan out on the deck and told him she wanted to go home.

"Am I supposed to care?" he asked.

"You brought me. It's your job to take me home." She studied him. His eyes looked lost and sunken. "Damn it!" she shouted. "You're drunk again! Forget it, I'll find my own way home."

She turned to go back inside, thinking she could walk to the bus stop if she had too, even in heels.

"Wait!" Logan called, grabbing her arm. It wasn't forceful, it was just urgent. "Please don't go. You're always going." His voice cracked.

Mia turned and was shocked to see tears in his eyes.

"Logan," she said, pausing, then throwing her arms around him. She didn't know what she was doing. She should either leave him alone or tell him the truth, she just wasn't sure which was better for everyone involved. Which would hurt the least?

Every time Logan looked at her she melted a little more. Mia hated seeing him upset and knowing that she was the cause. She wrapped her hands around him, trying to comfort him. His lips were soft and warm and the taste of them instigated a short replay from the previous night. His hand reached up and caressed her cheek. His touch was too much to bear.

"Why won't you be honest with me?" he asked.

She jerked her head away and stepped further into the darkness, turning away from him. The finishing touches were still being set on the yard for the wedding tomorrow, and the Chinese lanterns were all off, just hanging gray against a black sky.

"I wish you'd stop," she said.

"Why? Stop what? Trying to get the truth out of you? I'm not stupid Mia!" Logan wasn't holding back anymore. He let his rage and pain out and hit Mia with it full force. "If you love me then stop lying to me!"

Mia's heart broke a little more each time she heard the anger in his voice directed towards her. "I don't think you're stupid," she said.

"Then what the hell is it? Emma's three. She looks just like me. Like us. Just say it already. Just tell me!" He was screaming at her and if the music inside hadn't been so loud Mia was sure the whole party would have heard.

"Fine fine yes!" she screamed, and spun back to face him. Tears poured over her cheeks. "She's yours. You're right. Emma's your daughter." Logan stared at her, his face screwing into a mass of internal explosions too complicated for words. "Well?" she continued to scream. "Are you happy now?" She sank to the ground and curled her knees to her chest, sobbing.

Logan knelt beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She heard the hurt in his voice and wanted more than anything to take that away. To make him understand. "I was trying to help you," she said. Now that it was out, she might as well tell him everything. "You'd just gotten drafted. I didn't find out till after you'd left. I knew I couldn't do Harvard. But I knew I couldn't give her up either. I didn't see any reason to steal your dreams from you."

Logan stared at his feet. "You should have told me. It wasn't your decision to make."

She nodded, seeing that so clearly now. "But at the time, it felt like the right thing to do." She wished he'd understand. See her side. She only lied because she loved him.

They sat on the deck, in the dark, while Mia sobbed. Finally, when her tears subsided, Logan said, "Come on, I'll take you home."

Chapter 14

Logan watched the staff set up the chairs and the band check their instruments. Loud, unpleasant music hung in the air as someone tuned an instrument. It had been a long, sleepless night for him. He couldn't believe Mia had lied to him like that, and for so long. If he hadn't come back for Rachel's wedding, would she have ever told him the truth?

On the other hand... what an incredible sacrifice she'd made for him. He could only imagine what it must have been like for her when she'd found out she was pregnant. And to go through that alone, without the support of her parents or even a friend... That must have taken incredible courage. He was mad at Mia, but he kind of admired her too.

"He big brother," Rachel said, walking up to him. "Whatcha doin'? Contemplating the gift you're going to give me on my wedding day?"

He smiled in spite of himself. "Rachel... are you happy? With Erik I mean? He seems like kind of like..."

"A jerk?"

Logan smiled. "Well, yeah."

She shrugged. "Nobody's perfect. He might be a jerk to others, but he's nice to me. And everything he does, he does for me." She smiled. "Even when he's being a jerk, it's all for my benefit."

Logan laughed. Rachel gave a small cry just then as their mother stepped out onto the lawn holding what looked like a penguin ice sculpture.

"That's for after the ceremony," Rachel screamed, running towards her.

Logan couldn't believe his little sister was getting married. He looked around the yard with the perfect decorations, the perfect band, the perfect day. There was only one thing that wasn't perfect about the wedding, and that was Mia missing it.

It happened in a flash: one minute Logan was contemplating Mia and the wedding, the next his decision about everything was made. It was all so clear. He jumped into his car and almost crashed pulling into the parking lot of Smart Mart. He searched the aisles, frantic to find what he was looking for. Finally, his eyes lit upon it and he ran to the checkout counter.

It was dark when he pulled up to Mia's. He saw the glow from their apartment and hoped Mia wouldn't get mad when he knocked. She opened the door and a smile registered immediately on her face. She threw her arms around Logan, who returned her embrace. Her lips were soft as she pressed them against his.

"Wow," he said. "In front of the babysitter and everything." Mia looked behind her and saw Tera watching with wonder as Mia kissed Logan again. Mia had been terrified she'd blown it last night. That she'd never see Logan again. When she heard his knock on her door, it was like a weight had been lifted. She was determined never to let him get away again.

"Emma honey," Mia called. She turned to Logan, smiling, radiant. He'd always found her radiant though. Emma walked over and beamed up at Logan.

"Hi you," he said.

Emma smiled, but seemed shyer than usual. She cast a sideways glance at Mia.

"Emma, tell Logan what we were talking about earlier." Mia knew this couldn't make up for the last three years, but she hoped it was a start.

"Mommy said you're my Daddy."

The second Emma uttered "Daddy," Logan's heart melted. Football players weren't supposed to cry, but in that moment, he didn't think he could stop himself.

He nodded. "That's what Mommy told me too. I'm sorry I've been gone for so long." He hesitated, suddenly uncertain what to say. Emma's eyes spoke for him, moving to the box in his arms. "I've got a present for you," he said, holding the box out to Emma. She smiled and gently took it from him. He had a whole lot of presents to make up for.

Mia gave him a look which, for once, looked happy instead of angry. He wrapped her hand in his, and they watched as Emma ripped open her gift.

"Princess dress!" she screamed, excited. Mia's eyes brimmed with tears.

"Go ahead and put it on," he told Emma. "We've got a wedding to get to."

Mia's head snapped towards him. Her eyes searched his face. "All three of us?" Logan saw her grow pale and tightened his hold on her hand.

"We're a family now. I'm not embarrassed, and you shouldn't be either. Just hold onto me, and I promise I'll never let go."

THE END

TIGHT

STORY DESCRIPTION

She didn't even know how it happened. One minute she hated him, and the next she was wrapped in his strong arms giving herself to him completely...

Emma Davis is nicknamed “mouse.” She's quiet, brainy and keeps to herself. At nineteen, she's never even had a boyfriend.

Mason Haley is rumored to be the best football star the college has ever had. His hot bod and all-American good looks make it easy for him to get whatever girl he wants, and he wants them all.

To Emma, the most important thing is school, maintaining her 4.0 GPA. A social life is the least important thing she can think of.

Biology is the love of her life.

Until she meets Mason...

To Mason, grades are the least important thing he can think of. It’s important that he doesn't disappoint his team or his father.

Football is the love of his life.

Until he meets Emma...

When other students start calling Emma a stalker, it seems that Mason has played her for a fool. Is Mason so embarrassed to be seen with Emma, the mouse, that he spread a rumor that she’s stalking him?

Will Mason prove that he truly cares for Emma, or will he watch as she slips through his grasp and he loses her forever?

Can the dorm room mouse and the college football hero find love despite their differences?

Chapter 1

Emma opened one eye and peered into the darkness. Her first thought was that a burglar had invaded her home, then she remembered that she was in her dorm room, not her parents' house, and the noise was more likely her idiot roommate than some dorm room prowler. She closed her eyes again but opened them immediately when there was a loud thump followed by an "Ouch!" and a giggle. It had only been a few days since school started but she'd recognize that giggle anywhere.

"Zoey! For God's sake it's two in the morning." She rolled onto her side and tried to drown out the noises.

"Sorry Mouse," Zoey called back. Emma groaned. She hated the nickname that she'd earned in so short a time. Just because she preferred a quiet evening in to the party house atmosphere that the sororities and fraternities espoused didn't mean that she was a mouse. She was just smarter and cared more about her education than most of the people attending school here.

Emma closed her eyes and tried to block out the sounds. A second voice echoed in the room—a man's voice—and Emma's eyes shot back open. Mason Haley. Of course it was Mason. Zoey's boyfriend was not only the college football hero, he was also something of a fixture in the girls' dormitory. His sandy hair and blue eyes made him the epitome of popularity. Of course, it helped that his body looked like it had been sculpted by Michelangelo himself.

He'd dated nearly every girl housed here, though as she understood it, there was only a handful of girls that he'd actually deemed worthy enough to see more than once. Zoey was one of them. Of course she was. She was head cheerleader for the college—beautiful and blonde with long legs and a perfect tan. What man wouldn't want her?

Emma's own appearance was drab compared to Zoey's. She had dark hair and glasses which pinched her nose. Her body wasn't bad, but it wasn't a cheerleader's body either. She had always been "the smart one" of her friends growing up. Smart, quiet, and boring. But that was how she'd gotten into Stanford on a full academic scholarship. Her parents never could have afforded it otherwise. She had to keep her grades up or she'd lose everything. After Stanford, she had hopes of getting into the master's program at MIT.

She grabbed her pillow and held it over her face, wondering if maybe her parents were right. They had warned her that life in a dorm room was not going to be fun. They'd practically begged her to reconsider and stay at home with them, but she was nineteen and ready to fly the nest a little. Or so she'd thought. They'd told her she could move back home any time she wanted, but she was afraid if she did that she might never leave again.

Emma groaned as Zoey and Mason jumped onto Zoey's bed. It was much louder than her own, and Emma didn't think she could handle the noises that she started to hear coming from that direction. She jumped off her bed, keeping her eyes shut, and walked blindly towards the door, her blanket and pillow under her arm.

"Hey, shut the door!" Zoey called as Emma stepped into the hallway. "Jeez! Some people." Then the bed started squeaking again. Emma hurried away from the room and made her way to the common area. Only a handful of people lingered around, and Zoey was able to find a chair big enough to curl her legs onto. She tried to fall back asleep, but it wasn't exactly a restful night. She woke again and again as people wandered in and out.

Around five in the morning, just after she had finally fallen asleep, there was a peal of laughter as several drunken coeds stormed through the area throwing beer bottles across the floor. One of them splattered beer across Emma's face. She jumped awake and fell out of her chair. Everyone laughed. She laid on the floor a minute before finally standing up.

She decided to give up. She was obviously not going to get anymore sleep tonight. Besides, the sun would be coming up soon anyway. She stumbled across the floor, back to her room. Surely Mason had left by now. She opened the door and heard Zoey snoring. Thank God. She plopped onto her bed, thinking maybe she could at least rest if not sleep, and immediately jumped back up.

"Aaahh!" she shouted, flicking on the lights and turning towards her bed. Mason climbed off her mattress. He was naked and stood facing her, smiling like it was the most normal thing in the world for him to be naked in her bed. It had been him she'd heard snoring, not Zoey.

"Mason!" she shouted.

"Sorry," he said. "Zoey kept dragging the covers off me." He yawned and stretched his arms. His muscles flexed and Emma couldn't stop her eyes from catching the way his golden skin shimmered in the early morning rays as they seeped in through her windows. At twenty, Mason was already considered the best football player the school had ever seen.

"It's okay," she mumbled, turning towards Zoey's bed to yell and realizing Zoey wasn't even there. "No... no problem." She felt her cheeks burn and wondered why Mason just kept standing there. Didn't he know he was naked?

"How was your night?" he asked. "Did you do anything fun?"

Emma's heart hammered in her chest. Was he brain damaged? Maybe all football players had the misfortune of not being able to tell an awkward situation from a normal one. "Not really," she said. "Um, I was just going to take a shower."

"Yeah, me too," he said, crossing the room. "So what classes do you have this morning? I had to switch some of mine around. They interfered with football practice."

Emma nodded, trying to keep her eyes averted from the thick mass of skin and muscle that hung between Mason's legs. "I-I don't know," she said. Mason looked at her with a strange expression. She couldn't think. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. If he wasn't going to leave, she had to. "Excuse me," she said, grabbing her shower caddy and running out the door before he could ask another stupid question.

Out in the hall her breath finally caught up to her and she felt the blood return to her face. A peal of laughter echoed off the walls and she turned to see Zoey and her friends doubled over.

"Guess you ran into Mason," Zoey said, her eyes bright and sarcastic.

"Yeah, thanks for that," Emma retorted.

"Oh whatever," she said. "You're lucky you even got to peek at someone as hot as he is."

Zoey's friends echoed their agreement. One of them, another blonde who's name Emma always forgot, said, "I wish I could get a chance with him some time." She looked at Zoey with pleading eyes.

Zoey flipped her hair behind her head. "Maybe when I'm done with him," she said, then resumed whatever discussion they'd been having prior to Emma's entrance. She heard them discussing rush week and what sororities they would all be pledging. For a brief second, Emma considered her parents' offer. She could just commute to school five days a week. Then she pushed it away and headed for the showers. It was way too soon to decide something like that. She just had to give things more time.

Chapter 2

Emma stepped into class exhausted from last night. She couldn't let the lack of sleep get to her though. She had to focus. Her first lab was the most crucial one. It could set the tone for how the rest of her classes went the next two years. If it went well, she'd know that all of her other classes would go well too. It might have sounded a little like superstition, but she firmly believed it.

She took a seat at a lab table and opened her new blank notebook. A pencil sat beside it, another one tucked behind her ear. Professor Douglas walked into the room and the class fell silent. She felt the discomfort she'd been facing since her arrival at this school ease ever so slightly. These were her people now. Science majors like herself.  Professor Douglas was supposed to be brilliant, and she looked forward to his first lecture.

"Good morning," Professor Douglas said, opening his briefcase and setting some papers on his desk. "Glad you all could make it. Welcome to Biology 101A. This class contains a lab. If you are in the wrong class, you have the opportunity at this time to gracefully remove yourself from this room without any harm coming to you." He smiled and a few people chuckled.

"Alright," he said after a moment. "So I shall assume you all belong here. Let us begin. Biology is possibly the most important class you will have during your time at this school. It will give you the foundation for—"

It was just then that the door opened and Mason walked in. He looked around the room, and instead of heading quietly to his seat, rose one hand and pointed at a group of football players sitting in the back of the room. "Hey! You guys are stuck in this class too! I thought I was gonna be forced to get through this all alone."

He walked to the back of the class and raised his hand, palm open. The players took turns slapping it. Emma watched the scene, horrified at the egotism and disrespect Mason and his friends displayed. She'd somehow managed to ignore the other football players in the room. They'd been quiet enough until Mason arrived, now they joined him in his coarse social meanderings. Professor Douglas stood at the front of the room, his head in his hands. "Mr. Haley, please take a seat. Class has already begun and you are late."

Mason's smile faltered a second before resuming the idiotic grin Emma was starting to think was permanently etched on his face. He searched the room and his eyes fell on Emma. His smile widened. She quickly looked away. It wasn't until he was pulling out the chair beside hers that Emma realized her table had the only open seat left in class.

Great, she thought. What did I do to deserve this? Any of the other football players would have been better. Mason seemed to her the king of the Cretans.

Professor Douglas continued his speech. "The person you are sitting next to will be your lab partner for the rest of the semester. So exchange phone numbers, emails, and whatever else you kids are using these days. The point is you will need to work together or neither of you will succeed in this class."

Emma's stomach churned. She watched Mason out of the corner of her eye as he clicked his pen, tapped his foot, and doodled all over his notebook instead of writing down anything of value. She saw a few heads turn and look at him, so she knew it wasn't just her that he was distracting.

"Mr. Haley," Professor Douglas called. Mason looked up from a drawing he was doing of a big breasted woman holding a banana. "Why don't you tell the class the answer to my question."

"Sure. What was the question?" Mason grinned at their professor, who looked like he was getting closer to a coronary the longer class went on.

"The question was: what is the definition of biology?"

Mason hesitated a moment then said, in all seriousness, "It's like, when you cut people and pets open to see what they look like inside."

There were several chuckles from around the room. The light in Mason's eyes dimmed ever so slightly but his smile stayed plastered where it was.

"Biology," Professor Douglas said, "in the simplest terms, is the study of living organisms. Perhaps later in the semester we'll be able to study you, Mr. Haley. I'd be interested to see how just how much damage playing football has done to your brain. There's obviously been a great deal." Mason's face turned a shade pinker but Emma didn't care. It had been such an easy question a squirrel could have answered it. She didn't think Mason was even trying.

When the professor finally told everyone to turn to their lab partners and begin the first assignment, Emma groaned. She opened her lab book to the first page and when she looked back up Mason was staring at the door.

"We should get started," she told him.

"Sure," he said, still staring at the door.

"Why don't we read through the assignment together, then I'll do the first section?"

"Whatever you want," he said, finally turning to her and grinning. "I've got practice today."

She stared at him, her mouth dropping open, wondering what the hell his having practice had to do with their assignment. She saw the vacant look in his eyes and realized this was never going to work. She slammed her book shut and walked to the front of the room, where Professor Douglas was seated.

"Professor," she said, lowering her voice, though not bothering to lower it enough so that everyone in class couldn't hear if they tried. "I think I need a new partner."

Professor Douglas peered over her shoulder at Mason, who was watching them with wide, hurt eyes. Emma was sure it was all an act; she doubted that Mason cared enough about her or this class to be hurt.

"I understand, Ms. Davis, but I'm afraid that there is no one else left to partner with at this time. Just do your best and let me know if you have any problems."

Emma turned away, expelling a breath a frustration. Luckily for her, class ended and she was able to put Mason off until tomorrow. She'd have to figure out a way to deal with him if she was going to be stuck with him. She couldn't trust him to understand the material, let alone do any work. She'd just have to do it all herself and hope for the best. Maybe she could join a study group.

"Hey, Emma," Mason was calling from behind her in the hallway. She turned to him, afraid to hear what idiotic thing might come out of his mouth next.

"Yes?" she asked, her voice cold. She resented being forced to have him as her partner.

"Look, I just wanted to say... to tell you not to worry. I'll pull my weight on our assignments."

Emma laughed. She couldn't help it. It wasn't like her to be sarcastic, but she was still mad at him for keeping her awake last night. "Gee, thanks Mason. You've given me so many wonderful insights into biology already, I can't wait to see what you come up with next." Then she turned, a twinge of guilt flickering across her face as she saw Mason's hurt expression. She pushed it away and hurried to her next class.

Chapter 3

Emma sat on her bed, books piled at her feet. She pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes as she scribbled her answer to her chemistry professor's questions. Her glasses slid down her nose and she pushed them back up. The door opened and Zoey and Mason stumbled in, their faces pressed together in a hard lockdown that made Emma groan. Zoey shot her a look but said nothing.

"Hey Emma," Mason said, before Zoey pulled him to her bed.

Emma ignored them. At least at first. But the sucking noises they were making just kept getting louder and louder until Emma thought her ears might start bleeding.

"Can't you guys give it a rest for one night?" she finally shouted, snapping her head towards them.

Zoey propped herself up on her arms and peered across the room at Emma. "This is my room too Mouse. I can do what I want in it."

"Zoey," Mason said, "maybe we should just—"

"No," Zoey snapped. "Mouse is just jealous." She craned her neck up and kissed Mason. Emma saw him watching her out of the corner of his eyes. He actually looked embarrassed. "I'll be right back," Zoey told him. She stomped over to Emma's bed. "I'm going to use the bathroom, or do you think you own that too?" Then she turned, her blonde hair swinging out behind her. It was so long it actually smacked Emma's face before she stamped off.

Emma resumed trying to concentrate on her chemistry homework, but she was much too aware of Mason sitting across from her on Zoey's bed. She could feel his eyes on her. "What?" she finally demanded, turning to him.

"I didn't say anything."

"Why are you staring at me? Don't you have something better to do, like..." Emma's mind raced, trying to think of an insult. "...Like count sheep or something?"

Mason raised an eyebrow. "Count sheep?" He grinned at her and Emma felt her cheeks go red. She'd never been very good at quick and witty comebacks.

"Never mind," she said, burying her nose in her book.

"Why does Zoey keep calling you Mouse?" he asked.

Emma looked back at him, not sure whether he was serious. "Why don't you ask Zoey?"

He shrugged. "I'd rather ask you."

Emma felt the red in her cheeks deepen. "Because," she said. "I'm quiet like a mouse and like to hide in my room a lot. That's what most of the girls here call me."

"Doesn't seem very nice," he said.

Emma stared at him, uncertain what was happening. Mason was displaying real human emotions. He was actually interacting with her in a way that didn't make her want to smack him. Is it possible I've been too hard on him? Zoey came back in just then and went straight to Mason, tousling his hair with her manicured fingers before dragging him back on top of her.

"Miss me?" Zoey asked.

"Always babe," Mason said. He dug his face into her Double D chest and Emma rolled her eyes. She didn't know what she'd been thinking. Mason was exactly like she'd always thought—loud and crass and dumb.

Emma scrunched her brow and turned back to her books. The bed started squeaking and Emma froze. She peeked over her shoulder. She didn't want to be in the room if they were actually having sex. She thought she might vomit if that happened. But they were still just making out. She breathed a sigh of relief and wished that she had some head phones she could just plug in. Classical music was supposed to help make your brain retain information. She wondered why she hadn't thought of that before and made a mental note to pick up some ear buds when she had a chance.

Zoey let out a loud moan and Emma threw her book down. "That's it," she said, jumping off her bed. Zoey and Mason paused in their face sucking to throw Emma a look that she interpreted to mean they both pitied her and wished she'd leave.

"Sorry," Zoey smirked, "are we being too loud?"

Emma sighed as she threw her books into her bag along with her notebooks, pens, and anything else she might possibly need for the next few hours.

"Where are you going?" Mason asked.

"The library," Emma replied. She turned with her bag strapped over her shoulder. The weight of it forced her shoulders into an uneven posture and Emma shifted her weight uncomfortably. Mason was staring at her.

"Where did you say?"

Emma couldn't believe he was really this dumb. "The library! It's the place with all the books where people go to study and get away from distractions."

Zoey laughed and nuzzled her head against Mason's neck. "Finally," she said. "We can be alone. She started to nibble on Mason's ear as Zoey grabbed her jacket.

"Why don't you come with us to the party at Phi Kappa Psi?" Mason asked suddenly. Zoe pulled away from him, her eyes bulging out of her head. Emma paused with her hand on the door. Is he talking to me?

"I'm sorry," Emma said. "Did you just ask me to go to a frat party with you?"

"Sure," Mason said, smiling. "Why not?"

Emma didn't even know how to respond to something like that. Frat parties were the furthest thing from her mind. Mason obviously didn't get it. Still... it was nice that he had asked.

"Are you crazy?" Zoey screeched at him.

Mason turned to her and said, "She's got as much right to go as anyone."

Emma stifled a laugh as Zoey tried to stop her head from exploding.

"Thanks," Emma said, "but I really do need to study. Frat parties aren't really my thing." She gave Mason a tentative smile before stepping into the hallway. As soon as the door was closed Zoey started screaming at him.

Emma felt bad for Mason. He was too stupid to realize that being nice to her would only make things harder for him with Zoey. Maybe Emma didn't have to be quite so hard on him. It probably wasn't his fault his was dumb. He was probably born that way. She headed to the library, wondering what went on at frat parties anyways, and wishing for the first time in her life that she wasn't quite so mouse-like.

Chapter 4

Emma had never realized what a blessing sorority rush night was. The dorm was silent. For the first time since she'd arrived, Emma actually thought she could hear herself breathe. She smiled as she sat back on her bed, her books spread open around her.

She reread the biology riddle Professor Douglas had given at the end of class today. Though technically not homework, he was offering a whopping ten extra credit points to anyone who could answer it. She flipped through the pages of her bio book again. She'd already been looking for the answer to this question for a half hour. It was getting ridiculous. Even Google hadn't been able to help.

There was a knock on the door and Emma sighed. She got off her bed and opened it, expecting to see one of Zoey's friends. Mason stood there, his eyes widened when he saw her.

"Hey Emma," he said. "Sorry to bug you. Is Zoey here?"

"No," Emma said, annoyed at the intrusion. She'd finally gotten some time alone and of course Mason has to show up.

"Oh." Mason stood there, his eyes moving around in their sockets, uncertain how to proceed. "Do you know where she is?"

"No," Emma said again, her irritation growing. "Why don't you call her cell?"

"I tried." His eyes struggled to maintain their normally light and carefree attitude. He looked so distressed that Emma couldn't help but notice it.

"Er, is everything okay?" she asked. She didn't really care, but he just looked so... unhappy. It wasn't in her nature to disregard someone when they were in the midst of a crisis, even if that person was Mason.

"Sure," he said. Emma relaxed. Good, he didn't want to tell her anyways. She could send him on his way without any guilt. "Actually, yes."

Emma sighed. She should have known this wouldn't be so easy. She noticed then that his hands were twitching. His eyes continued to dart around in their sockets, like his mind was racing. "Why don't you come in?" she finally asked, giving in to her better nature and opening the door wider.

He blew out a deep breath and Emma was caught off guard when she realized he smelled like cinnamon and chocolate. It was a favorite combination of hers that reminded Emma of her grandmother. She inhaled deeply as he stepped into the room.

"I'm sorry," he said, pacing the floor now. "I thought Zoey would be here and you'd be at the library."

"It's alright," Emma said. "I tried the library. It was just as loud and crowded as the frat houses tonight. Er... so what's up?"

He stopped pacing and looked at her, his face distraught. "It's Zoey. I... I think she's cheating on me."

Emma's eyes widened. "What makes you say that?" It was hard to believe she'd cheat on someone like Mason. He was perfect for her. Sexy, gorgeous, the star of the football team. Who better to date the head cheerleader?

"She's just been acting so weird lately. I mean, she seems like she's into me when I'm with her, but then I've been hearing things from some of the other guys on the team."

Emma scoffed. Mason shot her a look with red rimmed eyes and she immediately regretted it.

"Sorry," she said. "Look, maybe she's not cheating on you. She's probably just busy with school work and, you know, cheer stuff." Even as she tried to comfort Mason though, she remembered what Zoey had said to her friend not so long ago when she'd expressed an interest in Mason: Maybe you can have him when I'm done with him. There had been something very cold and cavalier about Zoe's words that made her think Mason's instincts were probably correct.

"Why do I always do this?" he said, pounding the sides of his head with his fists. "Why can't I just fall for someone simple, like you?"

Emma laughed. Simple? Mason didn't even know when he was insulting a person. She turned back to her bed and opened her book. "She's at one of the sorority houses," she said. "Why don't you just leave her a note and go?"

"I'm sorry," Mason said. "I didn't mean that you were... uh, simple. You're really smart."

Emma smiled in spite of herself. "It's fine Mason."

He sat down in a chair at Zoe's desk. "Um, do you think I could borrow a sheet of paper? That was a good idea. To write her a note."

Emma groaned as she ripped a sheet of paper from her binder and handed it to him. "What are you working on?" he asked.

"Our bio homework."

"Oh. Are you doing that extra credit question?"

She glared at him from the corner of her eye. "Yes, but don't even think of asking me for the answer. I've already spent a half hour trying to figure it out. I'm not sharing it with someone who hasn't even tried to do it."

"I wasn't asking," Mason said, irritated, turning to his paper. "Why do you get so upset about stuff all the time? It seems like you're not very happy."

Emma started. Mason's words stung her without meaning to. She was happy. Wasn't she? "I'm... I just don't like being disturbed when I'm trying to work. My grades are important to me. If I don't keep them up I can't stay at Stanford."

Mason turned back to her, curious. "You're on a scholarship?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Me too," he said. "Only what I need to keep up with is football. It's not easy. I bet it's not easy for you either. There's a lot of pressure."

"Well," Emma said, softening a bit. "Yeah. There is."

They looked at each other a moment, their eyes locked. It was the first time Emma realized they might actually have something in common. Finally, she shook her head, clearing it. "I really need to finish this," she said.

"Yeah, of course," Mason said, turning back around and continuing with his letter. Emma was deep into hating Professor Douglas for his stupid biology riddle when something struck the side of her head. She looked at her bed and saw a paper airplane flittering to her mattress.

"Mason!" she yelled. Even without Zoey here she just couldn't get any peace. "Get out!"

"Sorry," he said, grinning.

"Just go!" Emma said, and threw a pillow at him. He scurried from the room, and Emma let out a loud scream. He was so irritating!

She picked the airplane up and tossed it into her wastebasket. Its nose hit the bottom and Emma noticed some writing on the inside of the right wing. She picked it back out of the waste basket and unfolded it, curious what Mason had been writing to Zoey before deciding to play darts with her head.

Emma's jaw dropped open. Written on the paper was not a letter to Zoe, but the answer to the riddle she had spent the last forty minutes working on.

Chapter 5

Zoey spent the entire night at the sorority she was pledging. Emma couldn't have asked for anything better. But instead of sleeping like a baby, she tossed and turned all night. She couldn't get Mason out of her head. How had he known the answer to that question she had struggled so hard with? Surely someone else in class must have given it to him. He couldn't have figured it out by himself... could he?

In biology the next day, Emma waited anxiously for Mason to appear. She didn't know why she was so bothered by him. So what if he'd gotten an answer to something she had struggled with? Good for him. Right? But it burned her up. There was nothing right about it. Either Mason was brilliant and was faking the whole dumb football player thing, or he really was as stupid as he appeared and was cheating. Either way, she had to know.

He got to class late, which was not atypical for him. Professor Douglas sighed as Mason stumbled across the room to his desk. His eyes were bleary. He looked like he'd barely slept.

When their professor was finally finished with his lecture, he released everyone to their experiments. "Remember, these experiments are due at the end of class today." Emma opened her lab notebook. Mason followed along. She watched him set up his things, trying to figure him out.

"How did you know?" she finally blurted.

Mason looked up at her from his book. "Know what?" he asked. He genuinely looked like he had no idea what she was talking about, which only infuriated Emma more.

"The answer to the riddle," she said. "Last night."

"Oh," he smiled. He actually had sort of a charming smile. She felt her pulse quicken ever so slightly and willed it to go back to normal. He shrugged. "I just knew."

Emma's mouth gaped. "What does that mean? Did you Google it?"

"No."

"So someone told you then. Someone in class?" Her eyes scanned the room, wondering who could be feeding him answers. Surely not his football buddies.

"No," he said, sounding irritated now. "I just... stuff like that just comes easy to me."

Emma couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Are you telling me that... that you actually understand all this stuff?" She held their lab book up, incredulous. Mason nodded. She felt herself start to stammer. "B-but, if that's true, then, I mean, why the act? Everyone thinks you're..."

"An idiot?" The corners of his lips turned up but it didn't look to her like he was smiling. The smile never reached his eyes.

"Well... yeah." Emma said.

"That smart guy stuff just isn't me," he said.

"But... but why not? That doesn't make any sense. If you understand—"

"It's just not who I am," he snapped. "Just drop it, okay?"

Emma silenced herself, but she felt her cheeks burning. She flipped her book back open and tried to concentrate on the lab at hand. She pulled out two beakers from the cabinet and filled one with the solution Professor Douglas had set out for them. A jar of dried Earth worms sat on the table with them, and she prepared to drop one into the solution. Mason started fidgeting, then grabbed the empty beaker sitting on their table and tossed it into the air.

"Mason!" she cried. "Don't do that! You'll break it!"

"Tanner! Go long!" he cried. Tanner looked up from the back corner of the room and stretched his hands into the air as Mason threw it towards him. Professor Douglas looked up just in time to see the beaker smash into a thousand pieces as Tanner missed it.

"Mr. Haley!" Professor Douglas shouted. Mason turned and his arm caught the beaker full of solution, knocking it over. It soaked into Emma's lab paper and turned her pink shirt a bright yellow.

Emma felt tears of fury creep into her eyes. Mason was an idiot. This had been her favorite shirt, and it was ruined. Even worse, there wasn't enough time left in class to clean up his mess and restart the experiment. Her hands shook as she quickly grabbed some paper towels and began wiping off their table.

"Mr. Haley, Ms. Davis. Come here please." Emma felt her face grow pale as she approached their professor's desk. The eyes of their classmates lingered on her and Mason as they stood at the front of the room.

"Mr. Haley," Professor Douglas said. "Your behavior is inexcusable. This is a science class, not a football field. You will be receiving an F for this assignment." Emma thought she saw Mason flinch. "I will not, however, punish Ms. Davis for your screwball antics. You," he looked at Emma, "may repeat the experiment tonight, for full credit."

"Thank you Professor," she said. He smiled sympathetically at her.

"What if I help?" Mason asked.

Professor Douglas's smile fell off his face. "You've had your chance, Mr. Haley. Perhaps a failing grade will serve to remind you to take the next experiment more seriously.

Mason nodded. "Yes Sir." He returned to his seat and helped Emma finish cleaning their table just as class ended.

"Emma!" he called after her as she exited the room. But she didn't wait to hear what he said. If she never saw Mason again it would be too soon.

Chapter 6

Emma sat on the lab table, her feet swinging under her as she ate her sandwich. She'd never liked those crowded dining halls. Even though dinner should be ending by now, she'd much prefer to just sit here in the lab and eat her food before really digging into the experiment that Mason had so thoroughly ruined earlier today.

She took another bite of her sandwich and reached for her water bottle, knocking it off the table. She tried to catch it before it hit the ground and fell off the table instead, smacking her face against the floor. She sat up with a jerk, her eyes bulging from her head. Her hands instinctively went to her throat. She opened her mouth and tried to breathe, but all that happened was that her face turned red and panic seized her. She stood up, her heart racing, her knees weak, pushing on her rib cage with her hands as the sandwich she'd been eating stuck in her throat.

She gasped for breath, feeling her head grow light. What do you do what do you do? Lectures from high school health class flashed back to her and she turned her body towards the lab table, wedging the edge of it against her ribs as pushed herself against it. Nothing happened. Oh God, I'm gonna die in biology lab. No one will even find me until tomorrow!

Just as blackness was starting to overtake her a pair of strong hands tightened themselves around her, gripping her abdomen and pulling themselves against her. Within seconds the bit of uneaten sandwich that had nearly been her undoing was flying across the room. Emma gulped at the air, tasting the sweetness of it as it filled her lungs.

"It's okay," Mason said. "You're alright. Just listen to my voice, alright? Emma look at me."

Emma turned her eyes to Mason. He swam in front of her, but slowly the dim edges of his face came into focus.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" he asked.

"Two," Emma said.

Mason looked at his hand and smiled. "Three, but close enough. Here," he said, leading her to a chair and helping her into it. "Just sit for a bit."

The panic that had gripped her began to diffuse now as she realized she wasn't going to die. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled over her cheeks.

"Oh hey, it's alright," Mason said, putting an arm around her and drawing her to him. "You're just fine now."

She allowed herself an uncharacteristic moment to lean against the wall of muscle that was Mason's chest and just let herself be held by a man. He smelled so good. Finally, she pulled away from him and gave an embarrassed smile.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?" Mason asked, confused. "For crying on you like that. I'm sure Zoey wouldn't like it very much."

His expression changed. "Zoey and I broke up, so I don't really think she'd care a whole lot about what I did or who I did it with."

"Oh," Emma said. "I'm sorry."

Mason smiled. "Do you always apologize so much?"

"Um, no. I don't think so. I just...Thank you for saving my life." She blushed and Mason handed her her bottle of water. She took a giant gulp and started coughing.

"Easy there, I don't want to have to save you twice in one night. That's asking a lot of anyone."

Emma giggled. Her face flushed. "Um, what are you doing here?" she asked. "Not that I'm complaining."

"I came to help."

"With the experiment?" she asked, surprised. "Did Professor Douglas say he'd change your grade after all?"

"No," Mason said. "I'm getting an F. But I'm the one who messed it up, it's only right that I help you fix it."

"Oh... uh, that's very... considerate." After the way Mason had acted in class, she was shocked to hear him talk like this.

"Yeah, well. I'm sorry I was such a jerk today." His cheeks grew pink. "It's just my dad, you know? He doesn't want me putting too much pressure on myself about school. He wants me to focus on football."

"So that means you have to act like a crazy person in biology?" she asked. She wasn't mad, she genuinely wanted to understand. How could someone so smart act so dumb?

"If I don't try, the professors let me get by more easily. They just figure I'm a dumb jock and it can't be helped. Then I can focus on football without having to focus on grades. See?"

"Yeah," Emma said. "I guess. Your dad actually wants you to do that?" Mason nodded. "Jeez, my parents would kill me if I came home with less than an A. I got an A minus once in gym class and they flipped out."

Mason laughed. "My dad really doesn't like it at all that I even have to take tests. He thinks I should be excused from finals. I bombed a final once—got a straight up F—and he didn't care. But I fumbled the football once during a game, and he grounded me for a month."

Emma laughed, but she felt bad for him. "My parents didn't want me to move to the dorms. They were worried it would affect my grades. If I drop below a 4.0, I have to move back home."

"God that's harsh," Mason said.

"Yeah, it is sometimes." She looked at Mason, something slowly taking shape in her mind. "I guess, in a way, we kind of have the same problem."

Mason cocked his head to one side. His sandy hair swept across his face and Emma resisted the urge to run her fingers through it. She blushed when she realized what she was thinking.

"I guess we do," he said. "Who woulda thought?"

They sat in silent wonder for a minute, each processing this new information. Finally, Emma spoke: "I'm sorry about Zoey. She's a bitch anyway, but it still sucks to get dumped."

"Actually, I dumped her."

"You did? I’m sorry, I just assumed..."

Mason grinned at her. "You're doing it again." When she didn't get his meaning he said, "Apologizing."

"Oh," Emma laughed. "Yeah… I am." She didn't know what was wrong with her. She suddenly felt all jittery. She laughed again and heard her voice take on a high pitched nervous sound she barely recognized as belonging to her. "Why did you break up with her then? If you don't mind my asking."

Mason shrugged. "I was right. She was cheating on me. With most of the football team."

"Oh, I'm—"

Mason scrunched his brow in an over-exaggerated look of disapproval. "Don't say it," he said, the corners of his lips turning up.

"I was going to say that I'm happy for you that you've removed yourself from such a bad situation."

"Yeah," Mason said. "She actually wanted to stay together anyways, can you believe that? I told her to go jump off a bridge."

Emma raised her eyebrows, her face lighting up. "Do you think she really will? Maybe I'll finally be able to get a decent night's sleep."

Mason stared at her a second, his mouth hanging open, then burst into a generous round of laughter. Emma joined him, and they sat together in the lab, a strange feeling of camaraderie between them that they would never have imagined at the start of the day.

Chapter 7

Mason leaned over Emma's shoulder, looking at the worm under a microscope. She breathed his scent in and felt her arms tingle. Her hands shook.

"You okay?" he asked, noting her hands.

"Mmhmm," she nodded. She was afraid if she spoke her voice would betray her.

"You know, you look real pretty with your hair down like that," he said.

Emma's cheeks lit up like a fireworks show. "Oh," she stammered. "Um, thanks." She turned her head so he couldn't see her smile.

"I guess we're about done here," he said.

"Yeah, guess so. Thanks for helping me."

"No problem. I owed it to you."

"Well, I think saving my life more than makes up for being a jerk in biology." She smiled, hoping he couldn't sense how nervous she'd grown around him.

"You really do look very pretty tonight," he said. "Not that you're not normally pretty, you are, I just mean..." Then he laughed and Emma realized that he was nervous too. She took a step closer to him. They were the only two people in the lab, probably in the whole building. It was ten o' clock and no one was going to set a foot into lab so late at night. No one besides her and Mason, that was.

"Mason, I um..."

He stepped closer to her and put his arm around her waist. Her breath caught in her chest. He leaned towards her, and before she knew what was happening his lips were pressing against hers.

She drank him in. His scent filled her nostrils as she tasted the honey that was his mouth. She opened her own mouth wider, allowing him full access. Her heart jumped as his hand slid over her back, pulling her tighter to him. She had kissed boys before—well, one boy, but she wasn't sure the awkward lip smacking of two twelve year olds counted in this situation.

Mason's hand moved under her shirt and began caressing her breasts. No one had ever touched her like this before. Her heart hammered in her chest as Mason's fingers moved to her pants and fumbled with her zipper. Emma jumped back, her cheeks burning.

"Mason, I...."

He looked at her, waiting. "What's wrong? I thought you wanted to."

"I do."

"Well then?"

Her cheeks were a bright crimson and her eyes glowed in the light of the lab. "I just, I'm... uh, I don't have as much experience as you."

Mason laughed. "That's okay. It doesn't matter. It's not like you're a virgin, right?" Mason's smile faltered as Emma looked towards the floor, her face pale except for the cherries of her cheeks. "Oh my God," he said. "You are? A virgin?"

Emma forced her head to move up and down. Mason went to her and slowly put his arms around her, drawing her into a hug. It felt safe and warm and Emma felt her body tingle again. "I'm sorry," he said. "I had no idea. Look, if you don't want to—"

"No!" she cried, looking directly at him now. "I do!"

Mason smiled. She could have swum in his eyes they were so luminous. He didn't say anything, he just reached down and kissed her. Slowly, tenderly. A heavy buzz filled her head. Mason's tongue swirled around inside her, tasting her as he pressed himself harder to her. This time, instead of going for her pants, Mason brushed aside some equipment on the lab table and laid Emma down on top of it. She shivered.

"Cold?" he asked.

"A little."

"I'll warm you up. Just tell me if you want me to stop." She nodded, her heart pounding. Mason pulled his shirt over his head and let it drop to the floor. He climbed onto the table with her, Emma's eyes widening as Mason let her explore his body. She ran her hands along the hard plane of his abdomen, his chest muscles rising and falling like something out of a bodybuilder's magazine. Emma could hardly believe he was real.

Slowly, Mason's hands pushed her shirt up. He caressed her breasts over her bra. Her breath quickened and her back arched. When Mason thought she was ready, he unsnapped her bra and watched as her creamy breasts spilled out. He touched her nipples with his finger, enjoying the way her body quivered.

"More," she whispered suddenly, the heat she felt inside her growing to a desert temperature. Mason moved his mouth onto her body, swirling his tongue over the dark pink points that stood at the center of her satin breasts. She couldn't help the grin that spread across her face as Mason asked if she was alright. "Yes," she replied, reaching out her hands to unbuckle his belt.

It took her a minute of fumbling before she found the zipper. Mason helped her push his pants and underwear to the floor. She held her breath as his manhood went on display for her. She'd never seen a man's body up close like this. She touched him with tentative fingers. Mason didn't make a move other than to continue caressing her breasts. Emma's hands moved over Mason's body, stopping at his erection. She touched it and it was harder than she would have thought, yet still tender.

Mason's hands moved to her legs now, sliding along her thighs as he slowly guided himself to the center of her perfect mound. Even through the pants she wore Emma felt the strength of his fingers as they moved dexterously over her, making her blood race. "Ohh," she moaned. She removed her hands from Mason's erection and pushed her pants off.

They were both naked now, and Mason rubbed himself against her, teasing her as he slid himself over her sex. "Tell me when you're ready," he said. She nodded, too scared to breathe. Would it hurt? Despite her anxiety, her body urged her along, crying out for Mason to finish the job he'd started. She could no longer take the heat that had built up between her thighs, so she pushed her hips against Mason to let him know it was time.

He hesitated, wanting to make sure she was really ready, then slid himself inside her with one swift move. Emma's mouth opened and her eyes widened. "Are you alright?" he asked, alarmed. She nodded, then lifted her head to kiss him. Mason began to move his hips, slowly at first, then increasing his speed when he sensed her body convulsing under him. He moved faster and faster, her breath quickening.

She wrapped her legs around his back and pulled him tighter to her. He pumped harder against her. Emma's mouth ran dry as her body began to shake. Mason drove himself deeper into her, and Emma's heart felt like it was going to burst through her chest. She moaned and Mason felt himself losing it. He held on long enough to press his hips harder against hers, driving himself deeper into her perfect moist cave.

When Emma's head flew back and her breath stopped, Mason let himself go. They sailed together into the air, high above the clouds, losing their breath as the atmosphere thinned. Then they were back in the lab and Mason was pulling Emma into his arms, their bodies acting as one.

Chapter 8

Mason and Emma stopped in front of her dorm. The outside air was warm and his hand was soft in hers. He put his hand under her chin, tilting her head back and laying his soft, pink lips over hers. She felt the slow and steady hum of electricity pulse through her as Mason pressed himself harder against her.

"I had a great time tonight," he said, finally pulling away.

She blushed. "Me too." She had a million questions racing through her mind, but she didn't dare ask them. The main one was when would she get to see him again. Would she get to see him again? Did he even want to see her again?

He kissed her one more time and she felt like he was reading her mind and answering her question. Yes, he liked her. Yes, he'd see her again. His lips still tasted like honey to her and she gently ran her tongue over them, relishing their buttery smoothness. Emma was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't hear anyone approach until the peals of laughter rang through the night air, breaking their kiss.

"Oh my God!" a voice said. Emma turned her head and saw Zoey standing with her friends, her face red, her body shaking with laughter. "What are you doing?" she asked Mason, her eyes bulging. "I mean, I know we broke up, but God... Emma? You must be really hard up."

Mason stiffened and dropped his hand from Emma's back, shifting his weight away from her. Emma looked at him. His face tightened and his lips thinned. She tried not to read too much into it, but it seemed like he was embarrassed to be seen with her. She waited for him to say something, anything, to defend his honor at least if not hers, but Mason just stood there.

"Mason, you know that you could have any girl on campus, right? Are you drunk right now? Is that it? Did you get high and forget that it was Mouse you were kissing?"

His eyes hardened. "I'll see you later Emma," he finally said, and walked away without a further good-bye. Emma's heart sank. He was leaving her to face Zoey alone. She went upstairs and tried to ignore Zoey as she followed her into their room, but Zoey's incessant talking was impossible to ignore.

"I don't know what Mason was thinking," she said, "but he must've been desperate. That's the only thing that makes sense."

Emma put a pillow over her head, hoping to drown out the sound of Zoey's whiney voice as it tried to shatter her ear drums.

"He should've come to me," Zoey continued. "I would've thrown him some pity sex. For old time's sake, you know? It's the least I could do. I should let him know that, so that next time he's this hard up he can at least get in a little action with someone who's not deformed. Right Mouse?"

"Why do you care so much Zoey?" Emma finally snapped. "You were cheating on him for crying out loud? Did you even like him?"

"Of course I liked him. He's a football star!"

"Yeah, but do you even know anything else about him? Do you even care? It seems like you only liked him because he played football."

Unfortunately for Emma, she had managed to get to the root of Zoey's true feelings, which only served to piss Zoey off more.

"You're only using him," Zoey said.

"For what?" Emma asked, unable to believe that Zoey could say something so ridiculous.

"You hope it will help your social life. It's understandable. When one has no social life to speak of, they must get very lonely. Do you have any friends at all? Oh wait, let me guess. Your mom is your best friend? Isn't that sweet? Well, maybe when Mason's done with you, you can introduce them. I'm sure your mom could use a little Mason in her life as well, if you know what I mean."

Emma couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed her pillow and a blanket and went to sleep in the common room. It wouldn't be the first time, and it was better than listening to Zoey all night. She curled up into a chair, her head spinning. Things were only going to get worse for her with Zoey, especially if she continued to see Mason. Wait. Would she continue to see Mason? Maybe it would be better if she went back home. She could still go to school here.

Emma hated the idea of moving back in with her parents. She knew she needed to get away from them or she would end up forty and still living at home, but she wasn't sure she had a choice. Especially if Mason wasn't going to stand up for her. She just couldn't go through this alone.

Chapter 9

Emma sat in lab the next day, her heart pounding as she waited for Mason to get there. She was afraid she had imagined his feelings for her. What if Zoey had been right? What if she meant no more to Mason than any other girl? She had given herself to him so completely... what if it had been a mistake?

Mason walked into class on time, for once. He high-fived his football friends, like he always did, not even giving Emma a glance. He stopped to talk to one of his buddies, who Emma could hear saying something about an upcoming frat party at their house. Mason nodded his head, standing there for what felt like forever. Emma wondered if he was ever going to come and sit down, and then class started and Mason finally took his seat next to hers.

"Hey," he said.

Hey? Emma's heart sunk. Was that his standard greeting to girls he'd recently slept with? Hey? What did that even mean? She waited for some other sign from him. Something to tell her whether last night had been a crazy fluke or if there was going to be something more between them, as she'd hoped. Mason just stared ahead, doodling in his notebook as Professor Douglas lectured.

Emma felt her face redden and tried to stop the tears threatening to form in her eyes. She managed to push them off, and when she turned her head again Mason was watching her.

"You okay?" he whispered.

Emma nodded.

"You look upset."

"I'm fine," she whispered.

"Are you sure?"

She hesitated. Maybe she was making things more difficult than they had to be. After all, Mason was talking to her now. He was expressing an interest, concern even. She smiled at him. Then she looked at his notebook and saw what he'd been doodling. It was a cartoon woman with huge breasts—the kind of woman that couldn't possibly exist in real life.

Emma turned her head, disgusted. Was that the type of woman Mason wanted? If so, then Zoey was right; he'd only been with her last night because he was desperate. He'd just broken up with Zoey after all, maybe he regretted it. Maybe he wanted to get even with Zoey for cheating on him by sleeping with Emma. She'd seen Zoey's reaction to Mason kissing her. It was driving her crazy to think that Mason and Emma had been together. What better way to get revenge?

Emma looked at Mason from the corner of her eye. He was playing with his pencil, pretending it was a golf club and swinging it at a little rolled up ball of paper he'd made.

"Alright now everyone," Professor Douglas said. "I have a surprise for you all. Friday's test has been moved to today."

Emma's eyes shot to the front of the room, followed by a series of groans from the rest of the class.

"You can't do that!" someone shouted from the back.

"Ah, but I can," Professor Douglas said. "I want to see how much you have all learned, not how much you can memorize the night before an exam."

Emma's heart thumped in her chest. She'd heard of pop quizzes, but who gives a pop test? It wasn't fair.

"Relax Emma," Mason whispered. "You know this stuff. You'll be fine."

But Mason's words didn't help. If anything, they only irritated her more. Who was he to tell her to relax? He was acting like they were friends instead of lovers. It was infuriating.

Professor Douglas passed the test out and Emma looked down at it, the questions jumbling before her eyes. What was he asking about photosynthesis? Ultimate causation? She knew that definition, she just couldn't think of it. Her mind raced to find the answer to questions she should have been able to answer in her sleep. She just couldn't concentrate. Her mind was filled with too many other thoughts.

She'd made and unmade her mind a dozen times during the night to move back in with her parents. She'd finally decided to wait and see what happened in class today with Mason, but clearly, she wasn't nearly as important to him as he was to her. She kicked herself for falling into his trap at the lab. Those liquid eyes... that rugged face... he'd used his charms to get her into bed and take something she hadn't, until now, thought she would ever want to give. She felt humiliated.

A watery splotch landed on her test, making the ink run. Another tear fell on top of that one. Emma threw her pencil down and pushed the test away from her like it was on fire. She grabbed her things and ran for the door. She felt everyone watching her and knew she was acting like a child, but she didn't care. She had to get out of here now, before she made an even bigger fool of herself.

Chapter 10

"Emma!" Mason's voice called to her across the hall.

She turned and saw him running after her. "Emma," he called again. She stopped running, waiting for him to catch up even though she wasn't sure she wanted to talk to him. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Tears flooded her eyes and ran over her cheeks in giant rivers. "How," she hiccupped. "How can you act like nothing happened last night? Didn't..." hiccup, "didn't it mean anything to you?"

Mason stared at her, his eyes opening wide. He looked like he'd just seen aliens land on the White House lawn. "What?" he finally said. "How can you ask that? Of course it did."

Emma felt her heart start beating again and tried to get herself under control. She hiccupped again and Mason suppressed a smile.

"Really?" she asked.

"Of course. Is that what's been bothering you?" he asked.

She nodded, starting to feel silly. "I just... when you came into class you seemed so... normal. You acted like nothing had changed." She tried to stop herself from blushing but failed miserably.

"So you bombed a test because you were afraid I wasn't into you?" he asked, smirking a little.

"No," she said, turning her head away from him. She tried to stop herself from hiccupping again but lost the battle. They were the only ones in the hallway. Something occurred to her then and head snapped back around. "Wait! What about you? You're missing the rest of the test."

"I finished."

Emma thought she'd misheard. "You finished?"

"Yeah, I got a C."

"How do you know that?" she asked, suspicious.

He shrugged. "I only tried hard enough for a C. I don't need any A's mucking things up for me."

Emma bit her lip, not sure she approved of his lackadaisical attitude about his grades, but not wanting to say anything. "But don't you need a certain GPA to be eligible to keep playing football?"

"Yeah, but my dad will fix things if I run into trouble."

"Oh." She resented the idea that his father could just swoop in and "fix things." She also felt really bad for Mason. If no one ever expected more from him, how would he ever be able to grow and learn?

"Come on," he said suddenly. "I'm taking you out." He threw an arm around her and ushered her down the hall to the door. "You need a nice dinner."

"It's a little early for dinner."

"So we'll see a movie first. You need to get your mind off things. Relax a little. Have some fun."

Emma smiled, and when he opened his car door for her her hiccups were gone. He drove them off campus to a local theater. She couldn't help noting that he didn't want to stay on campus. She didn't mind, but she couldn't shake the feeling that it had something to do with her. Still, it's not like he'd driven them two hours out of the way to see a movie, he'd simply gone into town. She decided she was being silly, overthinking things again, and that Mason was right. She needed to relax and have a little fun.

The movie was bad—a cheesy horror film about a possessed goat—but it didn't matter. They sat in the darkened theater, laughing and screaming at all the right places. She grabbed hold of Mason more than once, and he held her hand tightly when she needed him to.

They had an early dinner and walked around town a while until it started to get dark. They passed a group of people outside a pool hall and one of them shouted to them, "Hey Mason!" Mason turned and his face grew a shade lighter. He dropped Emma's hand.

"Hey," Mason said, "Kenny, what's up?" He peered in through the window and saw several more of his friends hanging out inside.

Kenny's eyes moved to Emma, who blushed. She stood just behind Mason, waiting for him to introduce her.

"You wanna get in on this game we've got going?" Kenny asked.

Mason shook his head. "Nah, another time."

There was an awkward silence where Emma looked at Mason, who looked at Kenny, who looked at Emma. "Well okay, have fun."

Mason turned and walked down the street, hurrying away from the pool hall. Emma hurried to catch up. "Mason," she said. "What was that?"

"What?" he asked.

"Who was that? Why didn't you introduce me? Are you... are you ashamed to be seen with me?"

Emma's heart felt like it was cracking. Clearly, Mason did not want his friends knowing she even existed.

"It's not like that," he said.

"Then what is it?"

"I just... I hate that guy. He thinks we're friends and I try to be nice to him because his father knows my father, but I can't stand him."

"Oh," Emma said. She supposed that made sense. Mason had acted somewhat cold and aloof because he just wanted to get away from Kenny, not because of anything she'd done. She wasn't sure she entirely believed him, but she was willing to accept the possibility he was telling the truth.

"Let's get out of here," Mason said, ushering her into his car. "Before we see anyone else I don't like."

Chapter 11

They got back to school and Mason parked in his spot outside his dorm. It was so dark, there was hardly anyone around.

"So," he asked, grinning at her. "Are you feeling more relaxed?"

She nodded and turned her head shyly towards him. She didn't know why she should still feel so uncertain about him. Hadn't he just spent almost the whole day with her?

"You look like you still don't trust me," he said.

"I trust you."

"Can't you tell how much I like you?" he asked, pulling her tightly to him and wrapping his arms around her. She felt her body melt the tighter he held her. Her blood pulsed in her veins, making her heart throb. "I missed practice today to be with you," he whispered. "My dad is gonna kill me. So you better trust me."

"You missed practice?" Emma's mind raced. Oh my God oh my God. He really does like me! Sudden passion overtook her and she flung herself at him. Her lips mashed against his and he laughed as he held her back, catching his breath.

"If I knew you were gonna act like this, I'd have told you that sooner," he said.

But Emma didn't want to talk anymore. He had told her to trust him, and she'd made her decision. The time they'd shared in the lab the night before had been special, but Emma had almost been too nervous to enjoy it. Now, despite the racing of her heart, she relished each sensation her body afforded her.

Mason reached down and pushed the button beside his driver's seat that slid the seat backwards, and Emma was able to climb on top of him. She was glad she'd worn a skirt. His body was warm and she pressed herself against him, drowning herself in the scent of his skin. He massaged her neck with his tongue, gently pulling at her skin with his teeth as she leaned back. The horn honked and Emma jumped, giggling. Mason laughed too.

"Trying to draw a crowd?" he asked. Then his mouth was on hers again. His kisses were deep and sensuous. She took a long breath and held it as his hands worked their way under her shirt. He lifted it over her head and Emma looked around them to see if anyone was watching. She thought she'd die of embarrassment if anyone caught her and Mason naked in his car. But there was no one there.

The light next to Mason's car was burnt out; the lot was so dark that Emma doubted whether anyone would be able to see them anyways, even if they were standing no more than a foot from the car. His kisses trailed from her mouth to her neck to her chest, where they stopped at her bra. He slid the straps over her shoulders and pushed it down. Her breasts were so white and creamy that they stood out even against the blackness of the sky.

Mason's tongue flicked over them, causing her nipples to jump to attention. He tasted her dark pink nubs; they were sweet and creamy and he couldn't resist teasing them with his tongue. Emma's back arched as Mason's tongue slid over her stomach and back up, landing once more on her perfect pink centers.

She had no idea how to move things to the next level. The car was cramped and when she shifted her legs to get her panties off she fell back onto the horn, sending a loud honk ringing across the night.

Mason's eyes lit up with laughter. "Need some help?" he asked.

She looked away, embarrassed. Mason put his hand under her chin and forced her eyes back onto his. He kissed her until she forgot her embarrassment. Then she tried again. Mason helped her slide her panties passed her ankles and then unzipped his pants, pushing them down just enough so that he was exposed to her.

She hovered over him, stretching her legs as he reclined in the driver's seat. She wasn't sure she was doing this right, but then she felt Mason's manhood between her legs and let herself sink onto him. They both closed their eyes as Emma and Mason let their bodies merge, becoming one.

"Oh boy," he said, opening his eyes. He looked at her with such tenderness that Emma wondered how she could ever have doubted him. She lifted her hips off his body, then dropped them down again. The resulting friction was slow and deep and filled them each with an increased passion they had not anticipated.

Emma moved faster now, pushing her hips against him over and over. Mason met her with his own hips, lifting them off his seat and driving them harder against her. Their bodies smacked together, creating a kind of music only they could hear. Emma allowed herself to feel everything her body had been too shy to feel the first time they'd been together. Emma's toes curled, her heat raced, her breath dipped in and out of her lungs like someone testing out the deep end of the pool.

Mason's own heart thumped hard in his chest. He had been with lots of girls, but he had never experienced anything like what he shared with Emma. He wished his father could know what a good person she was, what a good influence she was, then she bounced her body harder against him and all thoughts of his father fled his mind.

Mason moved his hips, trying to meet hers, but his position was somewhat cramped, confined as he was by the seat and the arm rests. But Emma didn't need any help from him. Her natural rhythm took over, and she rocked on top of him as Mason's legs began to tremble. Every time her soft mound pressed into him his body quivered more violently and his heart rate increased.

"I'm not sure how much longer I can wait," he said.

"Shh," she whispered. "Just another minute." She rocked back and forth, moving her hips in a circle before thrusting her weight forward once more. Her eyes grew bright and her skin began to glow. Mason reached out with one hand and caressed her cheek. She felt his erection grow and moved her hips faster, Mason meeting her beat for beat.

Finally, her head fell back and her arms dropped to her sides as her body began to shake. Mason let himself go and Emma felt him explode inside her, their bodies feeding off of each other's energy as the sky wrapped around them, binding them together in its darkness.

After they had caught their breath, Mason walked Emma to her dorm. She leaned in to kiss him goodnight, but he pulled back at the last minute.

"I don't want to give Zoey any more ammunition," he said. She nodded, pretending to understand, but she went to her room more confused than ever.

Chapter 12

It had been two days since Emma had last seen Mason. He had missed biology and when she texted him he hadn't responded. She didn't want him falling behind with his work. She knew he didn't take his classes seriously, but she had hopes that maybe she could change that. She checked her phone all throughout chemistry, hoping Mason would finally respond, but he never did.

During class Emma kept thinking that people were watching her. She'd turn to look and see someone quickly look away. You're just being paranoid, she told herself. But then she'd feel another pair of eyes on her and the same thing would happen. She began to wonder if she had a sign stuck to her back and tried to nonchalantly reach behind her and feel her shirt. She didn't feel anything though, except her clothes.

Maybe there's something on my face.

She reached up and began wiping around her mouth and cheeks with a Kleenex, trying to remove the offending matter. Nothing seemed to come off, and she decided to just let it go. She was probably just imagining things.

Emma left class with her mind lost in her thoughts. What was Mason doing? Was he ignoring her on purpose? What if he was sick? That last thought struck her as the most reasonable. After all, he'd missed practice to spend time with her, so why would he suddenly ignore her now?

She was so deep in her thoughts that she didn't even notice Zoey come up behind her. "Hi Mouse," she said.

Emma turned, her face flushing. "Leave me alone Zoey."

"Sure. I just thought I'd let you know that if you blow things for Mason, the whole school is gonna hate you."

"What are you talking about?" Emma felt her blood starting to burn. Why couldn't Zoey just leave her alone?

"Well it's all over the school how you're stalking him," Zoey said.

"What?" she asked, her eyes bugging out of her head. "That's not true."

"Oh really?" Zoey asked, acting innocent. "I heard that's why he missed practice the other day. Well gee, I don't know why anyone would think that if it wasn't true."

Emma wanted to punch her pouty little mouth in. "You're just making that up because you're jealous of me and Mason," she said. "If you start spreading rumors about me I'll go to the Dean."

Emma saw Zoey's eyes darken. "Listen Mouse, it's not me who's spreading anything. You think Mason likes you? Think again. I'm doing you a favor right now. You can't trust him. You're not his type. Leave him alone before you get hurt."

Zoey stormed off in the opposite direction then, leaving Emma feeling like she'd just been threatened. Instead of going back to her dorm, as she'd planned, she veered and headed to Mason's frat house. She'd never been inside one before. When she rang the bell a buff looking guy answered in his boxers, holding a beer.

"Wassup?" he asked her.

"Uh, is Mason here?" she asked, forcing her feet not to turn and run the other way. Frat houses were not her thing.

"Sure," he said, opening the door for her. Emma breathed a sigh of relief and stepped into an entryway littered with pictures of naked girls and beer cans. "He's up in is room," the guy in his boxers said.

"Thanks." Emma started up the stairs but stopped when the boxers guy called after her.

"Hey, wait a second. Are you her?"

"Excuse me?"

"The stalker."

Emma's face burned. "No," she snapped, "I am not the stalker." She turned around to finish her ascent. She heard the guy mumble something about being "so touchy," but she decided to ignore him. Upstairs, she was faced with a series of doors going down two long hallways that criss crossed each other. She had taken two steps in one direction when she heard Mason's voice and turned the opposite way, following the sound to a door with a poster of some football player on it.

She knocked lightly and almost jumped when a severe looking man in a suit answered the door. He scowled at her. "Um, hi, is Mason here?" she asked.

The man turned away from her and Emma saw Mason standing in a corner of his room.

"Mason," she said, relaxing a bit and stepping into the room. "Where have you been? Didn't you get my messages?"

Mason's eyes shifted from her to the man behind her. She realized how upset he looked.

"Is this what you're doing with your time?" the man screamed at Mason, veins bulging in his neck. "How can you be a football player when you're busy fooling around with some little tramp?"

Emma's eyes began to blur as Mason stood by, saying nothing.

"Is this why you missed practice the other day?" the man demanded.

"Dad," Mason finally said. She'd never heard him sound so fearful and uncertain. "It's not like that."

Mason's father raised his eyebrows.

"Oh? Well why don't you tell me how it is then. Because from where I'm standing it looks like you care more about your girlfriend here than you do your career!"

"She's not my girlfriend," Mason screamed. "I barely know her. She's... she's been following me."

"Is that true?" Mason's father turned on her. "Well I want your name. I'm gonna have you thrown out of this school if you bother my son again, do you hear me?"

Emma turned and fled from Mason's room. All of her fears had just been confirmed. What was even worse was that everything Zoey had told her was true. Mason didn't care for her. He'd been using her all along. She ran to her dorm and was grateful that, at least, Zoey wasn't there to watch Emma flood her pillow with tears.

Chapter 13

Emma woke up tired. Her alarm buzzed and she rubbed at her eyes as they tried to focus on her surroundings. She reached across her nightstand and shut the alarm down, looking at her phone. She had five new missed calls from Mason. She deleted them without listening to one of them. There were a slew of text messages that he'd sent her too. She started to read one of them then deleted those too. Why didn't he just leave her alone? He obviously didn't care about her. She felt like a fool.

It had been three days since the incident at Mason's frat house, and Zoey had not let Emma hear the end of it. "I told you so Mouse," was the new running phrase in their room. Oh, and Emma's personal favorite, "Poor Mouse, she got screwed by a rat."

The only consolation Emma had was that she wouldn't have to deal with Zoey much longer. She picked up another pile of clothes and threw them in a box, then pushed it against the wall with the others. Her father was coming for her in the morning; she would be back home and in her own bed within twenty-four hours.

She made her way to biology, dreading seeing Mason again. Maybe he wouldn't be there. If he had any class he'd leave her alone and drop bio altogether, especially since he didn't care about his academics anyway. She walked into the classroom and was surprised to find Mason already seated. He stood up when she came in and she almost turned and left, but unless she was planning to switch majors she was gonna have to get used to seeing him in here. She needed biology before she could advance to the four hundred level class she'd need to graduate.

"Emma," Mason said as soon as she sat down.

She ignored him.

"Please, let me explain." She glanced at him and saw his eyes were moist and sincere looking, but that did nothing to sooth her anger. He could cry her a river for all she cared. There was nothing he could say to fix this.

"Emma, please. I just freaked out when my dad showed up like that, and then you came in, and I didn't know what to say."

"So you told everyone I was stalking you?" she snapped.

"No! Well... yes. Kind of, I mean. I told the coach that when he laid into me for missing practice. Emma he threatened to kick me off the team, I had to tell him something."

"Uh huh, and your dad?"

"I just... I froze. I didn't want him thinking—"

"Thinking what? That you would lower yourself to date someone like me?"

Mason's face turned red. "That's not what I meant," he said.

"I don't care what you meant Mason. Just leave me alone."

"Maybe this weekend we get together. Let me try to make it up to you. There's a frat party at my house tonight and I thought—"

"I won't be here this weekend," she said, not taking her eyes off her notebook.

"Oh. Where are you going?"

"Home. I'm moving back in with my parents."

Mason's jaw dropped and he started to say something but Professor Douglas began his lecture. Emma tried to concentrate but couldn't stop sensing Mason's eyes on her. When class finally ended she gathered her things and ran into the hall. Mason followed after her, catching her arm as she tried to flee before any more tears could fall.

"Emma, would you please just listen?"

Just then Mason's football buddies filed out of class. "Look, it's the stalker," one of them quipped. The others laughed. Emma's cheeks went red and her eyes grew wet.

"Hey stalker. Why don't you stalk yourself a better grade in this class? I heard you bombed the last test." They hunched over laughing, and Mason turned on them.

"She is not a stalker," he shouted.

The guys stopped laughing and stared at him.

"Why don't you guys go throw the football around and leave her alone? That's all you're good for anyway. I hope you make a lot of money playing the game, because you'll never be able to use your brains to make one dime."

The expression on his teammates' faces made it difficult for Emma to suppress a smile. She was glad Mason had finally stood up for her, but she couldn't forget how he'd treated her. His teammates shuffled off, looking hurt, and Emma turned to go.

"Wait," he said. "Don't you believe me now?"

She hesitated. "Maybe. But the thing is... I don't care." He looked at her with questioning eyes that couldn't grasp what she was saying. "You hurt me so much. You humiliated me. There's no coming back from that."

Then she fled from him before he could try to change her mind again.

Chapter 14

The library was packed, but Emma knew it would empty out soon. The frat party at Mason's place was tonight; she'd heard Zoey and some others talking about it. Apparently it was a big deal. It was alumni night—past members and new members got a chance to welcome each other. Everyone was trying to cram their studying into one short, intense session before heading over there. Even Zoey was here right now, her nose grinding against her books. When seven o' clock hit though, Emma would have the place all to herself.

She flipped through her biology and chem books, marking important passages with a tab before writing things into her notebook. There was another big test in biology on Monday and Emma couldn't afford to bomb it again.

The only good thing to come out of the last test was that no one in class had passed it with anything higher than a C, so Professor Douglas had decided to grade everything on a curve, thus turning her F into a C. Mason, as it turns out, had received the highest grade in class, much to Professor Douglas's astonishment. He appeared to have decided that Mason was some sort of idiot savant, and was now trying to nurture his untapped scientific genius rather than make fun of him.

Emma flipped back and forth between the pages of her bio book looking for the answer to question fourteen on the practice test Professor Douglas had given them. There were to be no surprises this time, he said, for which the entire class had thanked him.

She was flipping back to chapter nine when something hit the side of her head. She looked down and saw a paper airplane fall to the floor. It toppled onto its side; written in bright pink letters were the words "Open Me." Emma looked around but didn't see anyone watching her. She unfolded the airplane and read the message:

I love you. Please give me another chance. I'd do anything for you, including humiliate myself. Look up.

Emma raised her head and saw Mason walking towards her, a feather boa draped around his shoulders, a pink bathrobe covering his body. A small giggle escaped her throat. She couldn't help it. He looked ridiculous. Someone next to her looked up, and that person nudged the one next to them. Soon the whole library had their eyes on Mason. He stopped in front of Emma, who was trying to hide her smile.

"Mason," she said. "If you think that parading around in a bathrobe makes up for what you did to me..." But she couldn't hide the light creeping into her eyes.

"I don't," he said. "But I'm betting this does." He jumped onto the table where Emma sat with her books spread out. "Here ye, here ye," he said, raising his arm like the Statue of Liberty. He had the total attention of everyone in the library, including the librarians and professors who were working there.

"Mason," Emma whispered, tugging on his robe. "What are you doing?"

He took a deep breath. "I would like to declare, right here and now, my undying love for Emma Davis." He looked down at her and she felt her cheeks burn. She really wished he'd come back down from the table now. She appreciated what he was doing. But apparently he wasn't done.

"To prove my love for this woman, I would now like to perform a song just for her."

There were laughs and groans. She saw Professor Douglas in the back, holding a book and watching with a surprised smile on his face. Then, before Emma knew what was happening, Mason removed the pink bathrobe. The library burst into a round of laughter and applause as Mason stood before everyone in a hot pink lace thong. He began to sing:

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,

You make me happy, when skies are grey,

You'll never know dear, how much I love you,

Oh please don't take, my sunshine away."

People stood up and began to stamp and applaud, hollering so that it didn't seem like a library anymore. It was more like a football stadium. Mason's cheeks were glowing. He looked down at Emma and reached out a hand to her. She took it.

"Am I forgiven?" he asked.

"Most definitely," she said, her face beaming.

"Good. I have one last thing I need to do. Will you meet me outside my frat house tonight at seven?"

"Okay."

He smiled and gave her a kiss that made her heart race before raising his head back up and looking across the sea of students who were still applauding. The librarians were trying to get things under control again.

"And just so this love of mine will never again doubt me..." he said, then he pulled the lace thong off in one swift move and jumped off the table, streaking through the library as the applause tripled and the librarians gave up.

Emma's heart had never felt so light. Zoey came running up to her. "I got it all on video. What's your email? I'll send it to you."

Emma couldn't hide the shock on her face as Zoey took her email down and seconds later Emma had the video in her inbox.

"Thanks."

"No problem," Zoey said. "Do you have a dress for tonight?"

Emma shook her head.

"Come on," Zoey said, closing Emma's books up. "There's not much time."

An hour later Emma emerged from her dorm room with Zoey, who was now behaving like they were old friends rather than enemies. They walked across the grounds together, Zoey leaving her when she saw Mason approaching. "Good luck," she whispered.

"Thanks," Emma said. The dress she wore was bright pink—Zoey said she should wear it in honor of Mason's love declaration—and hugged every curve of her body.

"Hi," he said, taking her in his arms. "You look beautiful."

He kissed her hard and her insides tingled. She was ready to forget the frat party and go back to her room. "Thank you for coming. You know I meant every word I said in the library, right?"

She nodded. There was no denying his feelings for her anymore. "I love you," he said, pressing his lips to hers once more. She could almost feel his pulse as his mouth moved against hers.

"I love you too," she told him. He smiled and took her hand. "Come on," he said. "My father is an alumnus. I'll introduce you, properly this time."

"What if he hates me?" Emma asked.

"I don't care," Mason said. "I'm not losing you, ever again." He squeezed her hand and led her inside. They didn't know what the future might hold, but they knew that from now on, they'd be facing it together.

THE END

NATHAN: BILLIONAIRE BEAR

STORY DESCRIPTION

What happens when a matchmaker meets her match?

Chloe Carpenter is an account manager at a public relations firm and a natural matchmaker. She’s smart, funny and talented, but Mr. Right just hasn’t made an appearance. Not for her, anyway.

That doesn’t stop Chloe from playing mix and match with friends.
When Chloe sets up a weekend camping trip, her intention is to match up a coworker. But, while deep in the darkened forest, she comes face to face with a sexy-as-sin forest ranger who is the stuff of her own wildest fantasies.

Nathan Varga is a bear shifter and a highly successful CEO of a multi-billion-dollar Fortune 500 company. His raw masculinity tempered by power, strength and control is enough to command the fear and respect of any Ivy League business competitor.

Nathan always expected that he would one day meet his mate. He never expected that she’d be human. That complicates things. Not only does he have to figure out a way to explain his bear and reveal that he’s not really a forest ranger, but he also has to convince her that he is the match for her.

Chapter one

Jason’s lights flashed us from behind.

“I think he wants us to pull over,” Tim stated the obvious.

I turned my gaze to the left side window. Sure enough, a sign for a gas station emerged from the overgrowth of trees.

“Great, I could use a coke.” I was dangerously low on caffeine intake, and felt that the responsibility of keeping this camping trip upbeat rested mainly on my shoulders. If I was going to play matchmaker, then I needed fortification.

Both cars pulled into the parking lot and I hurried out of the backseat, instantly overcome by the ferocity of the afternoon heat. It was intense, practically suffocating, without a hint of a breeze.

Tim and Jake, the two guys up front, followed me out. Laker, one of my coworkers who’d been riding in the back with me, groaned as soon as his shoes hit the hot pavement.

“Chloe, you need to use the restroom. Don’t you?” Brianna approached me, her hands jammed on her hips. Behind her, Jason and the rest of his passengers were making their way inside the station.

“Sure… um… yeah,” I replied brightly, feigning innocence. I knew that Brianna was annoyed with me.

We walked to the restroom in silence. Once we were inside Brianna checked the stalls and then turned on me.

“What the hell’s going on?” She hissed, “Why am I riding in a car with complete strangers, while you ride with both Laker and Jake?”

“You know Jason!” I replied defensively.

“No, I met him a couple of times – but all those guys know each other, and its super awkward – not to mention that Janine is insanity personified.”

Janine was Tim’s ex-girlfriend, and admittedly, a total nightmare. She and Tim dated for years before he finally managed to break it off, but she still seemingly refused to let him go anywhere without her.

“Sorry ‘bout Janine,” I sighed, “I was really hoping that you and Jason would hit it off…”

My sentence spluttered into silence as Brianna narrowed her eyes in a vicious glare.

“Is this whole trip one of your match-making sessions?”

Busted.

“No! Not exactly – Bri, listen, I just think Jason is an awesome guy, and I also think that if you’d only talk to one another, you’d see the same.”

“Chloe!” She hid her face behind her hands in frustration.

“I’m sorry,” I was starting to feel a little bit guilty, “I really did think this trip would be fun. Work’s been so crazy, and we’ve hardly spent any real time together – I thought we could all do with some getting back to nature-type activity.”

Brianna rolled her eyes at me, and then turned toward the mirror over the sink to inspect her make-up.

“It will be fun,” she replied eventually, “It’s fine. But promise me you’ll ease up on the Jason thing, he’s really not my type and I don’t think he’s into me.”

I smiled at her reflection. I had won. I also had it on good authority, from the man himself, that Jason was interested in Brianna. He just had no idea what to do about it.

“So,” continued Brianna, putting the pieces together, “You suffered the torture of riding with stalker Tim so I could hook up with Jason?” She asked with a small, mischievous smile starting to spread across her face.

“Yes!” I exclaimed, realizing I could win back some friendship points. “I did. Though to be honest, he’s been cool.”

Brianna nodded, but didn’t remove her smirk. Tim had pretty much asked me out every month or so throughout college, and then for another three years after that – including while he was dating Janine. The first few times I declined politely, after that it had gotten offensive, and now I was left in a place where I point-blank ignored his come-ons.

“That’s true friendship,” she laughed, “Okay. You’re forgiven.”

“Can we leave now, so I can get a soda?”

“Sure, but those things will rot your teeth.”

I gave her a mega-watt smile showing off my perfectly white teeth to prove a point. She shrugged and muttered something about home whitening kits which I ignored. Soda was a necessity.

Chapter two

“It’s creepy out here,” Janine whined, cozying up to Tim on the fallen log. We’d set up camp as soon as we arrived, finding a spot at the base of the mountain we’d all climb tomorrow.

The area was densely wooded, but we’d managed to find a small clearing where previous campers had artfully arranged fallen logs in a circle, around a burnt patch of soil. I thought we’d done really well on the set-up. The woods didn’t feel creepy at all; Janine was just using it as an excuse to get Tim’s attention. In a way, I was grateful.

Laker and Jake had collected dead branches and dried leaves to start a fire, and then argued for about a half-hour on the best way to arrange it. I lost my patience and built it myself.

Now our faces where lit by the flickering of red and orange flames, making us all look slightly sunburnt as we sat and roasted marshmallows on the end of spindly twigs.

This was my favorite part of summer- the long evenings when it was still warm, the smell of wood burning and all of us speaking in low, muted tones so as not to disturb the creatures of the forest. I felt perfectly drowsy. We’d all had a couple of beers after dinner, and the alcohol combined with the hypnotic light of the fire sent me into a meditative state where time seemed to stand still.

I smiled over at the figures on the log opposite me. Brianna and Jason were finally talking, sitting slightly apart from everyone else. Bam.

As I watched, Brianna stood up and walked around the fire to where I was sitting.

“Hey. What are you doing?” I asked quietly, “You’re finally talking to him. Don’t stop now!”

Brianna sighed theatrically, “We’re just talking. I’ll go back later, but I need to pee. Help a girl out in her hour of need?”

“Oh.” This was the major drawback of outdoor pursuits as far as I was concerned. But I wasn’t about to let Brianna walk off into the forest by herself.

“Okay, fine. Let’s go. I’ve got a flashlight.”

I dug around in my backpack and fished out the equipment we needed: hygiene wipes, hand sanitizer, and a flashlight. Brianna was impressed, but not surprised. My hyper-efficient organizational skills fluctuated between being amusing and awe inspiring to the other employees at Barefoot PR, the public relations firm where we both worked. To me, being organized was a necessity and came as naturally as breathing.

“Are you sure you don’t have a porta-potty in there as well?” Brianna snickered.

“You laugh, but I really wish I did,” I sighed as we walked off into the darkness of the forest.

When we couldn’t see the camp lights anymore, I decreed that we’d gone far enough. We’d stayed side by side as the forest had become eerie with only a flashlight to guide us, casting shadows that shifted and moved as we walked.

“Okay, now I think I’m too spooked to pee,” Brianna hesitated as she glanced around the chosen spot.

“Don’t be silly. C’mon, Bri, the faster you do your thing, the faster we can be back at camp.” I reasoned. I held the flashlight by a tree and turned away to respect her privacy.

“Chloe… I hear something,” Brianna whispered quietly. I turned back. She was frozen in fear as she squinted into the depths of the dark forest.

I was about to tell her not to be so jumpy, when a low rumble seemed to shake the soil beneath us. I could hear bushes being thrashed aside and tree branches being snapped as if some great bulk of a thing was tumbling toward us.

“What the hell is that?” I whispered back, too frightened to move.

My legs felt like they were going to collapse beneath me at any moment. Instinctively I wanted to shine the flashlight in the direction of the noise, but I refrained. If whatever it was happened to be passing, then I didn’t want to attract attention. I threaded my arm through Brianna’s and flicked the light off.

“What are you doing!”

I hardly heard Brianna’s hysterical plea. The noise was getting closer, as if it were heading straight toward us. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness I saw the trees tremble ahead, and then shake violently.

A deafening roar, solitary and vicious, splintered the air. I ducked, shielding my face with my arm, as something flew out of the trees toward us. Whatever it was yelped on impact.

I was able to focus enough to see a massive heap of fur lying motionless at our feet, no more than a yard away. As I watched, the furry heap moaned pitifully and rolled onto its back.

Thick fur. A muzzle. Sharp claws… Grizzly. It was a huge grizzly bear. Its sheer size alone was terrifying. The fluffy fur, small ears and inquisitive eyes that I associated with a cuddlier version of the animal did nothing to quell my fear as I gazed at the eight hundred pounds of muscle and brute strength lying before us. As it moaned in pain, its jaw stretched to reveal a ferocious, blood-stained set of canines.

“It’s hurt,” murmured Brianna, “The poor thing.”

What?

“Brianna, don’t – please don’t – go near it. We need to back away, quietly. Come on.” I tried to keep my voice at a whisper, but anxiety turned it into a high-pitched, sonar-like shrill instead. The bear turned its head in our direction.

“We need to help it! I think it’s bleeding,” Brianna replied, completely ignoring me as she rose from her crouched position.

“Or it’s just caused something else to bleed,” I spat, “We need to go.”

She stepped toward it. It whined again, and tried to move off its back. Brianna paused. I could see her body, like mine, trembling in fear. But, she continued regardless, edging her way toward it, cooing softly as though it was a new born.

I refused to abandon her. As much as every part of my body was desperate to turn and run, I wasn’t about to leave my idiot friend with a creature that could snap her neck in a matter of seconds.

Chapter three

“Excuse me ma’am, can you please step away from the animal.”

The man startled me almost as much as the bear had. I jumped, emitting a strange squeaking sound, and landed badly, twisting my ankle on a small rock.

I’d been so preoccupied with Brianna and the bear that I hadn’t heard him approach. He shone a flashlight in my face and I grimaced and covered my eyes, wondering why the hell I was the target for suspicion, and not the killer grizzly lying prostrate on the ground.

“Can you not do that?” I replied haughtily.

The man lowered his light, but didn’t apologize.

“Are you a forest ranger or something?” I asked, relieved to have some back up.

The man was silent for a moment before he replied, “Yeah, a forest ranger. You both need to go back to wherever it was you came from. I’m guessing the camp that way?”

He waved his light in the direction we’d just come.

“Yes.”

“I think the bear’s badly hurt,” Brianna interjected, “What are you going to do? Do you have a truck or something? How are you going to help him?”

I looked around, but saw no sign of a vehicle. The man seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

“My trucks about a mile back. I’ll drive it up here and haul him on. Do it all the time.”

He sighed as if this was an annoying event that happened on a regular basis. How many fights did these bears get themselves into?

“Will the other one be back?” I asked with slight trepidation, “Do you think we should move camp?”

If the other bear was strong and vicious enough to be able to cause this beast harm, then there was no way I wanted to be intruding on its territory.

“Not tonight, no,” he muttered darkly, “You’ll be fine.”

I tried to get a better look at the ranger, but the lack of light made it difficult. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a more than capable looking physique, but his face was almost fully cast in shadow. The only thing I could make out for sure was that he certainly didn’t dress like a forest ranger. I could definitely make out dark wash jeans, and a plain black t-shirt, but they looked clean and pressed, without a hint of forest debris or mud anywhere.

“You don’t look like a forest ranger,” I speculated out loud, “I thought you guys all had those camo uniforms?”

“It’s my night off,” he deadpanned.

The forest ranger clearly wasn’t a fan of ours. No doubt he saw it all the time – urban dwellers who came to the forests and open landscapes of the Rockies to let off steam and ‘get back to nature’ without knowing the basics – which I’m pretty sure included running the hell away from grizzly bears.

“Well, we’ll be on our way… Bri?”

She hadn’t taken her eyes off the bear, and barely seemed to hear my invitation to leave. I could tell just by looking at her that she was desperate to reach out and touch its fur.

“Not a fan then?” The forest ranger asked.

“Huh?”

“Of bears – I take it you’re not a fan.” He clarified, and I was sure I could detect the hint of a smirk on his face.

“They’re awe inspiring,” I replied truthfully, “But that doesn’t mean I want to get close enough to get my head chewed off.”

“Very sensible.”

I could definitely detect a hint of amusement lacing his tone, and it ticked me off. Brianna was the maniac here, not me. I would have expected a park ranger to applaud my good sense in keeping a safe distance. But then again, I already had the impression that this guy was probably the maverick of his ranger unit.

“Whatever. Bri, can we please get going, I think I twisted my ankle,” I pleaded. It was beginning to throb, and the hike was going to be ruined tomorrow if I didn’t prop it and get some ice on it soon.

“Let me take a look,” the ranger replied, and started to approach me before I could protest.

“Is it bad?” Brianna finally re-focused and looked over.

“Really, it’s fine,” I tried to shrug off the pain, “We should just get back.”

The ranger ignored me completely and bent down to look at my ankle. I felt his hands touch my leg, his fingers warm and firm as they felt around the bone. I winced when he touched a sore spot. He didn’t say anything, but softly palmed my calf as if in an apologetic gesture.

“It’s a bit swollen, try not to walk on it tonight, and put some ice on it. If you don’t have ice, dip a towel in water and wrap it around the ankle, okay?”

I nodded before realizing that he couldn’t see me, “Yes… okay.”

Suddenly I wasn’t feeling that chatty. At this close range I noticed just how broad and muscular the man was. His t-shirt strained over his thick shoulders giving me an ample view of the bulging bicep muscles and the toned definition of his forearms. He wore his hair slightly long, pushed back behind both ears. As he inspected my ankle, tendrils dropped in front of his face and for a split-second I felt a strong urge to push them back off his forehead.

“Are we done?” I said instead, my tone weirdly brisk and hoarse.

“We’re done,” he replied and straightened up. He towered over me. I’m average height, but in his presence I felt miniscule.

“Thanks,” I breathed, “We’ll go now.”

He nodded at me slowly, but I didn’t move and neither did he. I looked up and our eyes met. His face was still cast in shadow, but his eyes where hypnotic. They seemed to gleam in the darkness. His irises were an unusual midnight blue, but the tones within appeared as if they were moving and shifting, sparking like electricity. The overall impression was like looking into the midst of an electrical storm.

I looked away. My heart hammered irregularly in my chest.

“Are you ready?” Brianna called, having picked up the flashlight where I must have dropped it on the ground.

“Yep,” I gulped, “Thanks, see you around.” I muttered to the ranger’s chest, unable to look up again.

“Yeah, see you. I hope he’s okay,” Brianna replied, looking back longingly at the bear. The ranger waved us off.

I felt his eyes on us, follow us as we walked back toward the camp, and the feeling didn’t go away until we re-entered the clearing.

It was only then that I could actually breathe again.

Chapter four

That night, Brianna and I had returned to camp, practically falling over ourselves to tell the tale of our bear adventure. We mentioned the ranger briefly. Brianna hardly seemed to have noticed him. It appeared that I was the only one who he’d made a lasting impression on. Later, curled up in my sleeping bag, I’d listened for his truck, but heard nothing.

The next morning, our adventures were old news after Janine almost got bitten by a snake, and Laker found a scorpion curled up inside his boot.

Jason and Brianna hadn’t really spoken on the hike, and as we made the final descent, I had to give up on my matchmaking skills. No matter how many subtle ways Jason tried to vie for her attention, Bri just didn’t seem to notice. In fact, she was more preoccupied with wondering how her bear was faring in his recovery.

Now we were making our way back home on route thirty-six, sun-kissed and drowsy. Brianna sat next to me in the back of Tim’s car, her head slumped on my shoulder as she snored softly in sleep.

“Gas station!” I called out as we passed a sign, “I really need some water.”

“I need a smoke,” Tim agreed, and pulled over. I saw Jason’s car do the same behind us.

The station was run down, built from cinderblock and corrugated tin. It looked like more of a shack than a gas station, which made the McLaren P1 sports car parked out front all the more obvious. I only recognized the make because a few year ago they’d been a client of the PR firm I worked for. Those machines where upward of eight hundred thousand dollars.

Laker and Tim both emitted low, envious whistles and stopped in their tracks to stare longingly at the gleaming body. I carried on toward the entrance of the station, desperate for rehydration and air conditioning.

The door swung open just as I was about to push. I stood back to let the customer pass, and froze. It was the forest ranger.

He was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, the dark denim jeans, black t-shirt and surprisingly given the ensemble, some barely-scuffed black Converse. Finally, in the light of day, I could get a clear look at him.

Good Lord, he was magnificent!

Last night, I’d noticed he was large and wide, but in the daylight, it was obvious that the man was a wall of solid muscle. His chiseled jaw was clean-shaven, and his defined facial features portrayed remarkably classic good-looks. His looks were marred only by the slightly too-hollow cheeks and dark shadows under his eyes that gave him an edge which looked almost savage.

I had been wrong about his eyes. They were a dark midnight blue, but that’s where the strangeness ended. I must have imagined the electric-like sparks that had stormed within them.

“How’s your ankle?”

It took a minute for my brain to process. In fact, I was probably staring at him with my mouth hanging open.

“Uh, fine. Fine. Thanks for asking.”

He looked down at my bare legs. I suddenly wished I wasn’t wearing such short shorts. His gaze travelled from my legs up my body slowly. The look in his eyes was raw and hungry with an intensity that made me feel exposed, and I shuddered involuntarily.

“H.. how’s the bear,” I stuttered when it became apparent that he wasn’t going to speak.

“Recovering.”

I saw him unconsciously flip a set of keys in his hand. The unmistakable logo of the McLaren flashed in the sunlight.

“Was that the ‘truck’ you carted him off in?” I quipped, staring pointedly at the key.

“I thought about it. But blood’s a nightmare to get off upholstery.” He smirked at me, showing off a set of gleaming white teeth. I took a step back.

“They must pay you well. I didn’t realize ranger positions were so lucrative.”

He raised an eyebrow at my pointed tone.

“Sorry,” I blushed slightly, “That was rude.”

Damn my lack of a filter. But in my defense, I couldn’t quite merge the sharp, well-dressed man in front of me with the profession of a park ranger. He looked like he’d be more comfortable in a board room – despite the Converse.

“It’s fine,” he shrugged, “I have other interests.”

“Chloe?” A sharply questioning voice interrupted and Tim came to stand next to me, slinging an arm around my shoulder.

“I thought you were getting water?”

I shrugged him off, wanting to punch him in the ribs for thinking he could be this territorial around me when I was speaking to another guy.

“This is the park ranger. He rescued the injured bear,” I replied.

Tim held out his hand, but I could see that he was reluctant to do so. The ranger towered above Tim, and was easily twice as broad.

“Tim Hutchins, nice to meet you.”

The ranger looked him up and down, with a very different expression than the one he’d just adopted with me.

“Nathan.” He replied tersely. He didn’t shake Tim’s proffered hand. Instead he looked toward me, expectantly.

“I’m Chloe – Chloe Carpenter.”

He nodded, his expression contemplative.

“Very nice to meet you, Chloe Carpenter.” He replied eventually.

“Nice to meet you…Nathan.”

The name sounded strange on my lips. It was a common enough name, but there was something that suddenly seemed so personal about referring to him that way.

He walked back to his car, not saying another word. As I watched him move across the parking lot, I couldn’t help but be reminded of a beast’s prowl. There was so much repressed power and control in his movements.

Tim and Laker watched him as greedily as I did. I saw Tim pale when the engine thundered to life and the machine revved out of the lot.

I smiled to myself and went inside.

Chapter five

Monday came too soon. My whole body ached from the hike, hurting in places that I didn’t even know I had. Sunday night I’d immersed myself in a bath with Epson Salts, but it hadn’t seemed to make the tiniest bit of difference to my aching muscles. I felt like I needed another weekend to recover from the one I’d just had.

Brianna had called me later on Sunday night. I’d been dropped off around four, so I was surprised to hear from her so soon. She wanted to talk about the bear. How did I think he was? Where did I think the ranger was keeping him? She’d been looking up bear sanctuaries online, but couldn’t find any in the immediate Denver area. I hadn’t known how to respond, other than to repeatedly sooth her anxiety with unfounded reassurances.

Her behavior was odd, but in truth it was no stranger than mine.

Since we’d seen the ranger, Nathan, at the gas station, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. I’d never met a man who’d had such an effect on me. I’d met guys I thought where hot before, of course I had. I’d also experienced that little fission of excitement and dreamy head space as I launched into a fully blown crush. But this was different.

I didn’t know the guy at all, but everything about him intrigued me. His physique, his face, the way his voice sounded, the memory of his warm touch that refused to fade. It all drew me in, preoccupying me so that every thought I had, every action I took, was saturated with the sexy-as-sin Ranger Nathan.

That’s how I started my day, thinking of him as I walked the few blocks down to Eighth Avenue to work. I stopped off at Starbucks for a non-fat latte, which was ready and waiting for me at the counter when I arrived, and then practically glided through the doors to my office.

“Looking good dollbaby, hiking obviously agrees with you,” Cory called out from behind the reception desk to me as I crossed the lobby. He looked as good as he usually did – clearly he’d spent another productive weekend at the gym and topping up his tan.

“I’m not feeling so hot on the inside, trust me. Everything hurts.” I moaned in reply.

“No pain, no gain and quit whining. Debra is on the warpath this morning.”

I rolled my eyes at Cory. He was such a drama queen- highly tuned in to the emotional nuances of our boss. He seemed to live and die by her mood swings. I could handle Debra. She could be frosty, but I respected her a great deal - and that made all the difference. It meant that I could tolerate some of her less redeeming aspects; the package as a whole was worth it.

She’d brought me in two years ago to set up the digital team at the PR firm that she’d created from scratch. When she’d brought me in, it was just her and Brianna in Debra’s front room. They had been growing rapidly but they were behind the times when it came to digital and social marketing. I now had a team of five working for me, and the firm as a whole was reputed to be the best in the state.

Debra came marching toward me, her stiletto heels rapping sharply on the wooden floors.

“I need you in the Varga meeting. The comms manager just called me to say they want digital input.”

“What time?” I replied, unfazed by her brisk tone.

“In an hour.”

“I’ve got a call with Yo-Go, do you want me to reschedule?” Yo-Go was a new trendy yogurt drink that was just about to launch in North America. We’d only just won the pitch. Rescheduling it wouldn’t be ideal, but Debra knew that.

“You’ll have to. Sorry.”

She swept passed me, and I continued on to my office – texting my perpetually late, but nevertheless brilliant PA. Hopefully she could reschedule the call for later in the day.

“How are you feeling, Chloe?”

Laker called out to me from the water cooler. I smiled and waved, not having time to stop. If I was going to be in a meeting with a client in an hour, I needed to do some prep work, stat.

Debra had spoken to me about the Varga client last week, but I’d been focused on two on-going pitches at the time, and most of it had gone in one ear and out the other. All I could recall was that the company was heavily involved in surgical and medical products.

I did a search online, and found their site. It was what you’d expect from a business-to-business enterprise - the blue and white design cues of the medical industry, somber fonts and lengthy, detailed texts. There was a ‘For Investors’ tab, and I clicked on that. It sent me to a page with streams of press release links on financial profits, and a few recent photos of a company event; nothing of particular value. But I couldn’t find out who owned the company, if anyone actually did, or who the major shareholders were.

“Are you coming to the meeting?” Brianna poked her head around the office door. I looked at my watch. I’d managed to have a hugely unproductive hour.

“I am – any heads up on this thing?” I hissed at her as we sped to the central meeting room.

“Not much, I can fill you in later – basically they want the same thing all major corporations want – a friendly face and a Twitter feed. You’ll be fine.”

“Who are we meeting?”

“The CEO - Nathan Varga; head of marketing, Lucy Fielding, and a couple of other marketing heads.”

Another Nathan.

I sighed, frustrated. Having the name of a key client replicating the name of my strange obsession wasn’t going to help me get over him. I took a sip of coffee and forced myself to stay focused. Ranger Nathan would be forgotten within a week. Nathan Varga, CEO and head of Varga Corporations, would mean thousands of dollars-worth of business pumping into our company coffers.

Chapter six

Lucy Fielding was an attractive, willowy woman in her late thirties. I warmed to her immediately as she entered the room. I generally liked seeing women heading up departments in Fortune Five-hundred companies, and she had an easy manner that set a relaxed tone for the start of the meeting.

“I’m sorry Nathan’s running late. He had a conflicting appointment that’s run over, unfortunately,” she smiled brightly at Debra, Brianna and me, “In the meantime, it would be great if you could take me through your usual process. I’m particularly interested in amplifying our digital presence, so if you could start with that?”

“Sure,” I returned the smile, “I can show you a couple of cases studies as well, if we have the time.”

I didn’t normally like giving presentations without any prior notice, but our digital process deck was something I’d talked through with clients hundreds of times before.

I was half way through when Cory announced Nathan Varga’s presence. I looked up, my client-friendly smile at the ready.

Standing in the doorway to the meeting room, taking up the entire doorframe, was Forest Ranger Nathan. Except this man looked every inch the CEO of a billion-dollar company. He was dressed in an impeccable grey suit and white shirt, with his longish hair tucked neatly behind his ears.

Debra and Brianna turned to stand and welcome him. I watched Brianna look confused, as if she vaguely recognized him, but clearly dismissed the thought and welcomed him in a professional manner.

I wasn’t as capable. He came toward me, arm outstretched in greeting. I shook his hand slowly, feeling goosebumps run up my arm and over my body as his warm skin touched mine.

“I’m Nathan Varga, pleased to meet you.” His tone was formal, giving little indication that we’d met before, but his eyes said something else. They were teasing, challenging. Daring me to say something.

Two can play at that game.

I smiled as breezily as I could, “Chloe Carpenter, a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Varga.”

He cocked an eyebrow, and shot me a quick smirk before taking a seat at the table.

“It seems I was interrupting something. Please, go ahead Ms. Carpenter,” he drawled.

I nodded and turned back to the screen, trying to recall what the hell I’d been saying before he came in. The words on the deck seemed to swim and dance, completely nonsensical. Starting to panic, I looked over at Debra. Her face was turning puce as I stood there, unable to speak.

Though it said I’d be getting my ass chewed later, Debra’s look saved me. My job swam back into focus. Nathan Varga might very well look like sex-on-a-stick, he also might very well be a deadly stalker tracking me all over the greater Denver area, but he was also our client. Debra didn’t pay me to stand, admire and drool.

The meeting progressed without any more hitches. Lucy did most of the talking, outlining what they were looking for in terms of creating an ‘approachable’ face for the company.

I tried not to stare at Nathan as we discussed the project, but I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away. He didn’t belong in that suit. Not that it didn’t look good. It looked amazing, but there was something about him that made the suit resemble a shackle – like he wanted to break free of the confining tie and buttoned shirt, shed his clothing completely and…

And what?

Oh, crap, where was my mind going? I blushed as he caught my eye. I looked away. Honestly, in that moment, I irrationally wondered if he was psychic. I hoped to God he wasn’t hearing my thoughts. He cleared his throat, a strange gurgle of a sound that was suspiciously like suppressed laughter. I glared at him sharply, but his face was a mask of composure.

“It was lovely to meet you, Chloe,” Lucy smiled at me as we shook hands goodbye, “The digital approach you guys take is fantastic. I’m really looking forward to us working together.”

I nodded in agreement, pleasantly surprised by her enthusiasm. Clearly I hadn’t been that bad.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Nathan’s voice was quiet as he leaned toward me. He placed a hand firmly on my upper arm, moving me a step backward. I glanced to see what everyone else was making of this, but they were all preoccupied with the removal of laptops and swapping business cards.

“Chloe, Have dinner with me tonight.”

His words were a gentle murmur. I looked up into his eyes; their midnight depths burned brightly with amusement and I couldn’t help but wonder if this was all a game to him. Was I a mouse to his predator?

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I hissed back, “Besides, who would I be going out with, the park ranger or the CEO?”

I instantly got the impression that he hadn’t expected that response. His eyebrows rose and inwardly I laughed with glee at finally being able to turn the tables on him.

“I’ll explain. I promise. Please consider dinner. I won’t bite.”

I hesitated, weighing the pros and cons. Dinner with a man I was undeniably attracted to, okay obsessed with really, but who could also be a crazed stalker and some sort of weird billionaire bear hunter? Hmm.

“I will explain, and we can go anywhere you choose.”

“Fine,” I agreed eventually, “Pick me up here at seven.”

“Here?”

“Here,” I repeated adamantly. I wasn’t comfortable with him knowing where I lived, not yet.

Debra made her way over, giving me warning eyes. She was obviously correctly concluding that I had the hots for the guy, and wanted me firmly back in my professional box.

“At seven,” he confirmed, and walked out with his employees.

“What was that about?” Debra asked sharply as she smiled at their retreating backs.

“Nothing,” I lied smoothly, “Seems everyone’s digital crazy these days.”

She gave me a look, and then folded her arms.

“Careful, Chloe,” she warned, “I need this client.”

I nodded meekly, feeling guilty. If she found out I was having dinner with Nathan she would not be pleased. I vowed I’d have one meal with the guy and then gently untangle myself from this obsession – for the sake of my job and my sanity.

Chapter seven

Debra left at six, as I hoped she would. That gave me an hour to transform myself in the office restrooms, and I roped in an enthusiastic Cory to help.

About six months ago, I had signed up on a dating app. It had been fun for about two months, and I’d frequently had several dates lined up during the week. After a while, though, I’d lost interest. The men were fun, and I’d enjoyed myself, but hadn’t really found any connections that sparked my interest. However, as a result of my dating spree, I’d kept a few dresses in the office and a full make-up bag for last-minute emergencies.

I chose the most casual dress I could find - a dusty pink skater dress which complimented my skin tone and dark hair. I was wearing gold-strapped sandals already, and didn’t want to change into anything with a heel, with the dress it would be overkill.

“Hair down, princess,” commanded Cory.

I unraveled it from the tight bun I’d been wearing, and then let Cory go to town on with my make-up.

“Don’t go all out, just natural, please Cory,” I begged. He tended toward drag-queen creativity if he wasn’t reigned in.

“I know what I’m doing,” he sighed, “Trust me. I’m so jealous, by the way. Nathan Varga is gorgeous. You know he’s a billionaire, right? Where are you going tonight? Please tell me it’s somewhere fancy.”

I laughed, “Rioja on Larimer. It was my choice.”

“What? You could have gone anywhere. We go there all the time!” Cory was disgusted with my choice. I guess in his opinion it was a complete waste of a date with a billionaire. I chose it because it had good food and a terrace area, so if we got stuck for conversation there would plenty of people-watching to do.

Cory stood back to admire his handiwork. I checked myself out in the mirror. He’d done a good job. It barely looked like I was wearing makeup, but he’d done a fair amount of genius contouring so that my cheekbones appeared more prominent, and my skin seemed to glow.

“Oh, Cory – you’re my fairy godmother – thank you.”

“Thank me by inviting me to the wedding and private pool parties,” he winked at my reflection and I rolled my eyes. At least one of us was wildly optimistic about the success of the evening.

“Okay – I’d better wait out front. He’s going to be here soon.”

“Wait!” Cory squealed at me.

I turned to him alarmed, and he liberally covered me in perfume.

“Jesus, Cory, I don’t want to smell like a department store – enough,” I coughed, waving the spritz away.

“Perfect,” smiled Cory, ignoring me. I left him smiling in satisfaction as I strutted out of the office and went to wait by the entrance.

As soon as I left Cory, my confidence started to diminish and I felt the nerves that I’d be holding at bay all afternoon return. I was grateful at least that we’d be going to a restaurant I knew. Hopefully it would make the experience less overwhelming. But I had my doubts.

Nathan’s car was waiting for me as I exited the building. It was the same one I’d seen in the gas station over the weekend. He opened the door when he saw me, and rose out of the car. Had it been anyone else I would have noted the good manners with approval, but in Nathan Varga it only served to make me more skittish.

“You look absolutely beautiful, Chloe.”

The compliment and the matching smile where given lightly, but his midnight eyes were intense as they watched me approach.

“Thank you. You look nice yourself.”

He was still wearing his suit, but it was as fresh and un-crumpled as it was this morning. Either Nathan had a closet full of matching outfits, or he’d done nothing all day but sit in an office chair controlling his empire from the touch of a button. I didn’t know which was more plausible.

He opened the car door for me, and then walked over to the driver’s side. I sunk into the plush seat, marveling at the interior. It looked like it was built for space travel, not cruising the streets of Denver.

“Where to?” He asked.

“Rioja. Do you know it?”

“I do.”

He picked up his phone, “Elle, get me a table for two on the terrace of Rioja…yep, Rioja,” he smirked down the line, “Thanks.”

I’d completely neglected to make a reservation. It would be unlikely that we’d be able to get a table outdoors at this late notice, which put a massive flaw in my people-watching back-up plan. But then again, maybe Nathan’s had some substantial influence in this town.

“She was surprised at the restaurant choice,” I stated, referring to his smirk.

“Very.”

“It’s good,” I replied, “But perhaps a little below your standards.”

“Nope. I agree with you. It is good. It’s just usually when I’m eating out I’m wooing clients, and their tastes tend toward something flashier. This is a blessing, trust me.”

I emitted a small smile of satisfaction. Just having Nathan in such close proximity was playing havoc with my nervous system, but perhaps tonight would be more enjoyable than I had first anticipated.

Chapter eight

When we arrived, we were shown to a terrace table immediately and the Maître d’ practically fell over himself trying to make us feel welcome. Okay, Nathan had a lot more influence in this town than I realized.

Nathan caught my eye and smiled. I don’t know if it was my imagination but I got the idea he was slightly embarrassed by the attention. We ordered a bottle of wine and water for the table, and then were left alone with our menus.

“Do you know what you want?” He asked. It took me a moment to realize he was referring to the food. I smiled smoothly, and didn’t bother to check the menu before I replied.

“The mixed seafood with fries. You?”

“Steak. Rare.” He replied, placing the menu back down on the table, “With fries. Of course.”

“Of course.”

Well, at least we had something in common – even if it was as arbitrary as french fries. He leaned back in his chair, studying me. A silence fell between us, but it wasn’t uncomfortable; I was just as interested in studying him.

I tried to find the tell-tail signs of a man that spent a lot of time outdoors, but there was nothing. His hands, though large and capable-looking where smooth and clean, his nails clipped short. His face didn’t convey ruddiness or windswept coloring. He was tan, but this was summer in Denver; we were all tan.

“Okay, so tell me,” I asked, stumped, “The park ranger thing – that was a lie, right?”

“Not exactly,” he started to re-arrange the cutlery on the table and didn’t meet my eye, “I have hobbies. Other interests besides my business. Babysitting bears currently seems to be one of them.”

It was a vague answer, and I was dissatisfied.

“You said you’d tell me. You promised. Can you be a bit more specific?”

“That was me telling you,” he smirked, “Trust me. I can’t really divulge more than that.” He looked repentant, and strangely subdued for a moment.

“You’re not,” I hesitated, “Doing anything…weird with them are you? Like using them for animal testing?”

He laughed out loud. It was a relief.

“Nope. No science experiments. Our company doesn’t do animal testing. But then, I’m sure you already knew that?”

Now it was my turn to feel uncomfortable.

“Honestly? I was only asked to come to the meeting an hour before it was due to take place. I really don’t know much about your company.”

He cocked an eyebrow in my direction, but before he could speak the waiter came to take our order. I took a sip of wine and settled back into my chair, enjoying the sunset’s warmth without the afternoon glare as Nathan ordered for us both.

I found it baffling that the man I was sitting with was the same man who tended to my ankle in the woods only a few nights ago. They seemed like they were two different people entirely, and it made me curious. I wondered which one was the real Nathan – the one in the thousand-dollar suit sipping wine, or the one who trekked the wilderness of the Rockies tending to wild animals.

“Well, we don’t do animal testing, and the bear is making a full recovery in a sanctuary not far from here.”

“Which sanctuary?” I asked, knowing that Brianna would want to look them up.

“A good one,” he replied sternly, “Please trust me on this - the bear is safe,” he added, a little gentler.

I did trust him. I wasn’t exactly sure why. I wasn’t really in the habit of trusting strange men that appeared out of nowhere, who I then repeatedly ‘bumped’ into, but with Nathan I did. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, the desire for this man who made my pulse race to be honest and good on the inside, too. Whatever the reason, I uncharacteristically decided to let it go.

“Okay, I trust you.”

“Thank you,” he replied softy. The midnight blue of his eyes started to glow again, the electric flairs dancing in his irises. I must have leaned in closer, because he jerked his head backwards and laughed softly to himself.

“You have a curious effect on me, Chloe Carpenter.”

“I could say the same thing about you. I don’t usually agree to go to dinner with clients.”

“And I don’t usually ask,” he replied, “But, with you I had to make an exception. I hope it doesn’t cause any issues with your boss.”

I recalled the vow I’d made earlier to untangle myself, and to gently assert that this wouldn’t be going any further. Yet, I felt the desire to untangle melt away with every passing second.

“Well, she doesn’t need to know right now. We’re both adults. I’m sure we can handle…whatever it is this is,” I finished lamely.

“This is me dating you. Or trying to, once you stop wondering if I’m some crazy stalker,” he quipped.

“Is it that obvious?”

“Yes.”

I blushed. I had agreed to go out with him, and it did seem kind of rude to continue to doubt his motives. Still, what girl on a first date didn’t keep an eye out for red flags?

“I’m sorry. It’s just… you strike me as…unusual,” I said as delicately as I could. He wasn’t offended. Though I did feel like he was smirking at his own private joke.

“And you’re not?” he asked, leaning toward me. He reached out and ran his thumb across my bottom lip, just barely skating the skin. It was a wildly intimate gesture, and it sent molten lava running around my insides and down to my core.

“You’re driving me crazy, Chloe Carpenter. What is it about you?” He asked quietly, staring at me as if I was some great enigma that he hadn’t managed to solve.

“My winning personality?” I croaked, trying to lighten the mood. He smiled and removed his hand, which I immediately missed. I ached for him to reach for me again, wanting to feel the heat of his touch. I cursed my flippant response. It was such a classic reaction of mine when faced with any real intimacy.

After that, we continued a more first-date line of conversation; brief summaries of childhood, families, schools, films and books. The time flew by, till we were the only ones left in the restaurant and the candle on our table was nothing but liquid wax.

“Let me drive you home?” Nathan asked as we walked onto the avenue.

“I’ll get a cab,” I replied sleepily, “It’s easier.”

“Easier for you to get home, or easier meaning less potentially complicated?”

“Both?” I smiled up at him, grateful that he understood.

In the next moment, his arms were wrapped around me, solid and warm, and his body was pressed up against mine, hard and unyielding. I inhaled sharply at his surprising, but not unwelcome, boldness. His lips brushed my forehead, and I thought I heard a soft growl escape his chest.

“Let me see you tomorrow night?” His voice sounded low and husky.

“Yes,” I whispered, no longer able to pretend that I could stay away from this man any longer than twenty-four hours.

His lips touched mine, lightly, sweetly – sealing the promise. I was the one that deepened the kiss, sliding my hand up his chest. He gripped the back of my neck, angling my head as our lips molded together. He tasted like wine and warmth. As his tongue gently brushed over the seam of my lips; they parted. I heard myself release a small moan as his tongue delved into my mouth, exploring, tasting. The man had my head spinning, and my whole body tingling in an erotic haze. His hand reached up to cup my face, his fingers lightly grazing my earlobes and shivers erupted around my neck.

He ran his other hand down the curve of my spine, gently pushing my backside further into him as he firmly cupped my ass. Through the flimsy material of the skater dress, the heat of his touch was almost searing. The hardness of his erection dug into my abdomen. The sensation made my stomach flutter and my panties damp with arousal.

“We need to stop,” he gasped, “I can’t…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but I was right there with him. I couldn’t control myself. We were on a public street, but my body was responding to him like we were alone in a bedroom.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I replied, trying to get my breath back. He nodded, and then physically stepped away – giving me some space.

He turned and hailed a cab from the steady stream of traffic that hadn’t abated despite the hour. One came all too soon. He opened the door for me, and then made sure the driver knew where he was going before letting me ride off.

Alone in the cab, watching the bright lights of the various bars and restaurants reflect on the window of the car, I sat back and exhaled. I still had so many unanswered questions about Nathan.

Unanswered questions and a vague feeling that he wasn’t quite what his image portrayed. I was certain that there was something else about him, something that he was keeping hidden. I could feel it in my bones.

What was even stranger was that, aside from overwhelming lust, when I’d been wrapped in his arms and held against his warm body, I had felt safe. Safe and protected, as if we could hold the world at bay.

Chapter nine

“This the place ma’am?”

The taxi pulled up outside my apartment building.

“Perfect. Thanks. I’ve only got a twenty.” I waited for him to give me change and then pulled myself out onto the sidewalk. It felt like it had grown slightly cooler since I’d said goodbye to Nathan, but it was probably just my fatigue starting to make itself known.

I dug for my keys as I walked up the steps to the lobby entrance. My apartment was on the fourth floor of an old converted bottling factory. The factory had been divided up into modern apartments, all with an industrial décor- high ceilings, polished concrete floors and huge old factory windows that let the cold in come winter and made it blazing hot in the summer.

As I was struggling to get the lobby door open, cursing our super for not replacing the decade-old lock, I noticed a man standing at the far end of the street. My building wasn’t too near the main avenue, so it was rare for people to dawdle in this area. His presence made me slightly uneasy, and I glanced the length of the street to see if anyone else was around, but found it otherwise deserted.

Eventually the lock gave, and relieved, I stumbled inside. Another man, broad and muscular, dressed head-to-toe in black, was standing by the bank of mailboxes that ran alongside the right wall of the small lobby.

He turned and nodded in my direction with disinterest. I figured he was a new resident in the building, so I returned the nod and made my way toward the elevator.

I was starting to wish that I’d invited Nathan back for coffee. There was a perceptible tension that hung in the air. The loitering men had the hair on the back of my neck standing at attention. As a result, I became hyper-aware of the sounds around me – the creaks of the elevator as it shuddered and jolted its way down to meet me, the pipes that ran through the walls of the old building, groaning and moaning with age.

When the elevator doors opened, I stepped inside. The man in the lobby dashed inside with me, and I backed away into the corner of the compartment in surprise.

He didn’t say a word to me, and kept his eyes straight ahead. I pressed the fourth floor button, and the doors closed.

“Are you new here?” I asked, my voice small.

He didn’t turn around, and he didn’t reply. His silence terrified me. I rapidly took in his attire; black work boots, jeans and a long black-sleeved t-shirt.

You’re in danger. Get the fuck out.

As soon as the doors opened, I made a run for it. I dashed toward the emergency exit at the opposite end of the hallway. There was another man waiting outside my apartment.

I yanked the emergency door open and took the steps down, two at a time. My heart hammered wildly in my chest, and my throat ran dry. I heard them clattering down the steps behind me.

I can’t outrun them.

Starting to panic, I missed a few steps and skidded painfully on the sharp edges of the concrete. I righted myself quickly and kept going, racing down as fast as I could go. I guess I was less than a couple yards ahead of them the whole way. Had they been yelling or shouting at me it may have helped, but it was their silence, even as they ran, that made my blood run cold. Professionals.

The exit lay ahead of me, and I wanted to cry with relief as it came into sight. I at least had a chance.

Flying through it, I heard the door bash angrily against the brick wall. I leapt out from the top landing, and smashed into the body of a third man. As he caught me, his vice-like grip tightened around my neck. I struggled in his arms with what little energy I had left.

Something hard slammed into the back of my head. For a brief moment I felt like my brain exploded. Bright lights danced screaming in my line of vision.

And then nothing.

Chapter ten

Dinner last night had been amazing. Just being close to her, breathing in her scent, watching her sweet lips as they formed a smile. I hadn’t wanted it to end. When I’d held her in my arms, it took everything in me to slow down. I desperately wanted to make love to her, to bury myself in her warmth, to pleasure her until I could feel her explode in release.

I’d had to cool it though. She was human. Humans didn’t feel the same kind of intensity for their mates that shifters felt. I’d known the moment I touched her in the forest that she was mine.

It hadn’t been difficult setting events in motion so that I could see her again. It was simply a matter of getting my investigator to track her down using her friends license plate numbers, then hiring her PR firm.

Now, I’d have to prove my worthiness to her- and have patience. Allow her feelings to develop. And, at some point I needed to reveal my bear without her riling in disgust or running scared. Simple. Not so simple.

This morning I’d had to go for a ten mile run just to try and keep my bear sated and beneath my skin.

When I got back to the apartment to shower and change, my brother languishing on the sofa didn’t help my mood. I considered his presence to be an unnecessary pain in my ass. He had a home of his own to go to – albeit a crappy shitstain that stunk of take-out, but that was his problem, not mine.

Evidently my housekeeper, Lucinda, agreed. She kept muttering under her breath as she went from room to room trying to vacuum up the crumbs and collect the empty beer bottles he left in his wake.

“Byron, please tell me today is the day you’re getting the hell out of my home?”

I used the end of a pen to pick up a pair of boxer shorts that he’d left strewn over the coffee table. The kid was disgusting.

“I can’t go home. I’m telling you, the Bow Mar clan has it in for me. It’s not safe,” he groaned from under a blanket, “And, what time is it anyway?”

“Time you got out of bed,” I muttered, downing some black coffee before I had the urge to do more damage to his already broken arm.

“It’s not like you haven’t got the space. I swear Nathan, you’re one cold-hearted motherfucker.”

I rolled my eyes. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t heard before. Byron had a convenient habit of forgetting those times I did things to help him, and holding onto the times when I’d decided enough was enough and pushed him to stand on his own two feet.

We came from a pure-bred bloodline of Colorado’s most powerful shifter clan, and had he in anyway been inclined to work for it, my brother could have had all the wealth and power that he wanted. Instead, he chose to get drunk. And high. And drunker.

“I’ve got to be in the office in five. You want me to take you anywhere?” I offered.

“No man, I’m telling you - they’re out to get me. I’ll be a dead man.”

“Byron, it’s your own goddamn fault. I swear, next time you get into a fight with a Bow Mar, I am not going to be around to help out.”

The Bow Mar clan were another of Colorado’s old shifting families. There had been years of antagonism between the two clans, that in the last decade I had been doing my best to smooth over.

They were a mean bunch, vicious, cruel, and entitled. They spent years terrorizing the Littleton district till we eventually came to a peaceful agreement, which cost me millions. To have my brother’s antics threaten to mess it up when we were experiencing our first few years of peace was infuriating.

“Whatever. They started it,” Byron retorted, “I just refused to back down. That jerk got what was coming -”

“What was coming? That jerk got away clean. You’re the one with the broken arm,” I laughed at him, “Anyway, I’m leaving and I’m calling Lucinda at lunch time. If you’re not out I’m coming home to drag your ass out.”

He mumbled an expletive under his breath which I ignored.

I drove to work, blasting an oldies station so loud that the body of my car shook. For some reason, it was the only way I could actually focus, by drowning out everything else.

The office was calling my cell, but I ignored it. Whatever it was, it could wait till I arrived.

Chloe. My bear wanted her so badly. I wanted her. The whole thing was unusual, a human and a shifter creating such a bond. I’d slept with countless human women before. None of them had called to my bear – none had produced the same effect on me that Chloe did just by smiling, just by walking across a gas station parking lot in short shorts.

Fuck.

I punched the steering wheel. I wasn’t a man who harbored an abundance of patience. When I wanted something, I got it.

I wanted Chloe.

Some asshole in a Hummer ripped past me, laying on his horn. I realized I’d been stopped at a green light. I really was losing my mind over her. I cut the music and drove the rest of the way to work in silence.

As I pulled into the underground garage, Elle came running toward me.

“Nathan, Nathan – shit – something’s happened!”

Her face was ghostly pale, and she reeked of fear.

“Elle – calm down, what’s happened?”

“It’s the Bow Mar’s – they’ve got your date, Chloe,” she took a deep shuddering breath, “They said you need to come alone to meet them, or they’ll kill her. I’m so sorry!” She cried out in anguish.

“It’s okay, Elle.” I tried my best to comfort her. Inside, I’d turned to stone.

Fear ran through me, shutting down any emotion and letting an icy rage take over. I would arrive alone. But it wouldn’t stop me from ripping each and every one of those bastards to shreds. If they had so much as harmed a hair on her head, I would annihilate their entire clan.

“Where did they say to go?” I asked calmly.

Elle looked up at me, wide eyed in shock.

“There’s an old barn on South Summer road. They said you’d know it,” she whispered, drying her tears and trying to match my composure.

“I know it.”

I did. It had been the place where shifter feuds where once resolved through fights to the death. Well, if that’s what Bow Mar wanted, that’s what they would get.

Chapter eleven

I didn’t know how long I’d been out, or where I was, but a shooting pain throbbed in my temple. Looking around the room, I assumed I was in a basement of some kind, but it was too dark to be sure.

Above me, I heard footsteps, a low murmur of voices, and the occasional shout of laughter. I didn’t know, and couldn’t even begin to imagine, who these men were or what they wanted with me. The only thing I knew for sure was that I’d been specifically targeted. They had known where I lived, and had hunted me down with purpose. But, why?

The room was cold and dank, and I had no coat or sweater to keep me warm. I sat in the corner, too frightened to move around, trying to get my eyes to adjust to the darkness.

Just as I was beginning to make out the shapes of what I guessed to be farming equipment in the far corner, light flooded the room.

Two of the men who had attacked me walked in. They turned on the light, a dim, solitary bulb that hung naked in the middle of the room. Beneath it they set out chairs and an old wooden crate.

“Why am I here?” I asked eventually, watching them move about the room as if I didn’t exist.

They ignored my question. They ignored me. Not even once did they glance in my direction. One of the men took out a deck of cards whilst the other popped open a beer.

“Please – what’s going on, goddammit!”

The silence was starting to gnaw away at me, like I was losing my grip on reality. I didn’t understand how I’d been out on a date on a summer evening, dizzy with lust and longing, and had now been transported into a hell that made no rational sense.

“Lady, keep your mouth shut.”

One of the men turned around and snarled at me, his eyes flashing in the darkness. They were a different color, but they reminded me of Nathan’s eyes. They had the same electric sparks that marked both men as something other.

What the hell have I gotten myself wrapped up in?

“What are you going to do with me?” I asked, trying to stop my voice from quivering – I didn’t want to give these men the satisfaction.

“Nothing. We’re just waiting for your boyfriend to get here. You’re bait, baby.”

They laughed and returned their attention to the card game.

“If you’re talking about Nathan Varga, he’s not my boyfriend,” I cried back, “You’ve made a mistake. I went on one date with him!”

A date I was now regretting. I didn’t know what Nathan was mixed up in, but I didn’t want any part of this.

“Lady, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to rip your face off,” the second man growled.

“You need to listen to me. I don’t know if he will come for me. This is ridiculous…” I stopped mid-sentence as one of the men rose from his chair.

“What the hell did I tell you?”

He loomed over me, the light in his eyes practically glowing.

What were these men?

My jaw went slack. The man in front of me seemed to be vibrating with energy. I watched as his muscles bulged and his veins pulsated violently beneath his skin. I pushed my back against the wall, clutching my knees up to my chest in an effort to gain as much distance as I could.

He let out an inhuman growl, tearing the sound from his chest. Then I heard the sounds of ripping, as if his skin was being pulled apart to let something within him escape. The growl turned into a roar that shook the building.

I think I screamed.

Shutting my eyes against the vision of the monster before me, I could hear the sounds of muscle and organs being squished and ripped apart, the laughter of the other man in the background, deep and throaty.

Then silence.

I opened my eyes. I expected to see a dead man on the floor, a body turned inside out. What I actually saw sent my head spinning wildly.

A bear. A huge, black grizzly stood on its hind legs peering down at me. It roared again, louder than before. Instinctively I covered my ears, desperate to block out everything that appeared before me.

My heartrate kick-started and I gasped for air, not realizing that I’d stopped breathing. Adrenaline surged. I desperately wanted to fight for my life; I didn’t want to die here in a dank basement, alone and afraid, with men that could transform into animals.

I scurried to my feet and lurched to the side. The bear raised a paw, and with one swipe knocked me backward. My head slammed into the wall, and I cried out in pain. Not giving up, I tried to make a run for it, sidestepping his great hulk. I was pushed back again, this time, claws scraped across my chest. Blood dripped down my dress, and I felt light headed with terror.

“Give it up lady,” the other man called out, “You don’t want to make him mad – trust me.” He laughed, and casually took another sip of beer.

The bear just stood still, watching me. I leaned back into the wall, my legs no longer able to support my body. I sunk down onto my knees. I was defeated, and I saw the glow of triumph in the beast’s eyes.

Nathan, please help me.

He was the only hope I had.

Chapter twelve

They had heard my approach.

I got out of the car, as the lieutenant of the Bow Mar’s stepped into the front yard to meet me. I recognized him from the peace talks. He was the eldest son of the clan leader, and as despicable as his father.

“Where is she?” I asked, not bothering to slow down my pace toward the house.

“Fucking wait, Varga. I want to talk to you.”

He held out his arm across my chest, trying to halt me. I grabbed it and twisted it sharply behind his back, hearing the satisfying sound of a bone cracking. He yelped in pain.

“Your brother brought this about! He started shit with the clan. We’re just retaliating!”

I yanked his head toward mine.

“You don’t touch humans. You don’t touch MY woman. And you certainly don’t threaten me,” I hissed at him, “Was it the peace talks? Did you somehow get the idea that I was soft? Did you mistakenly believe that I would go easy on you?”

I tightened my grip on his arm, pushing it further up his back. He whimpered in pain.

“She’s downstairs. We didn’t touch her, I swear it.”

“We’ll see about that.”

I ushered him through the old barn house. I could smell Chloe from here; her scent that was like the sweet aroma of the mountains, and the acrid scent of her fear. It cut my soul. I had done this to her. This was my fault.

I followed her scent in the direction of the basement. We descended the steps, my grip tight on the shifter.

Chloe was in the far corner of the room, cowering behind a bear. I could now smell her blood, fresh and potent. My bear jolted inside me. It wanted out.

Both shifters spun around to face me. I knew who they were. I threw the lieutenant to the floor. Both these men were the pride of the Bow Mar pack. They were trained killers, both having served time for human crimes, and both reportedly unmatched in their strength and brutality.

I wanted to take Chloe in my arms. To just run from this place, make sure she was safe before I hunted each one of them down and repaid their torture in kind.

But I couldn’t.

If I went to her now, they would gain the upper hand. We would both be dead.

“Just remember your brother started this Varga,” the Lieutenant growled from the floor, “You both die for his mistakes today.”

The bear started to gain on me, and the other shifted to join him. I took one look at Chloe’s face, terrified and confused, and I knew what I was about to do would cause me to lose her forever.

The realization added to my fury. I had planned to break it to her gently, in the kindest way I could. Now she was getting a shifter 101 in the most brutal way imaginable.

I felt my bear tugging on me furiously. He wanted out. I didn’t have an alternative option.

I shifted. Chloe’s scream echoed across the room, and I cursed myself along with the rest of the vile creatures for causing her pain.

Roaring, I fell upon the first shifter. He tore at my back with his claws, but it was too late. With a hunger I hadn’t possessed since the times of peace started, my teeth tore into the flesh and fur at his neck. His blood seeped into my mouth, his body whipping and jolting as his life was cut short.

The other bear leapt onto my back. Digging in where I had already been sliced open, his claws raked at the raw flesh and I howled with pain.

“No!”

I heard Chloe’s cry, pleading, desperate. I wouldn’t leave her here to die. I spun around, clubbing the bear’s head backward. He pawed at me again, catching my snout. My own blood mingled with that of the dead bear.

He opened his jaws, ready to bite down and deliver his death blow.

I’m so sorry Chloe.

I heard a clatter, and turned to see Chloe standing behind my would-be killer with a chair leg raised in her hand. Distracted, the bear turned.

I took the only chance I had left. Grabbing each side of his muzzle with my claws, I bit down, breaking his jaw with my own. I released him and he reeled back. Swiping with my paw, I caught him around the throat; carving four deep gashes that instantly spurted bright red blood.

His body fell to the floor.

Behind me I heard the Lieutenant scrambling to his feet and running toward the stairs. I let him leave. I would find him later.

“Nathan?” Chloe whispered, her voice high and wavering.

I lowered myself down on all fours, unable to look into her eyes; unwilling to see the disgust I knew would be there waiting for me.

She hesitantly took a step closer. I tried to focus on shifting back, but with her so close, and the scent of dead shifters running through my veins, it was near impossible. My bear demanded he protect her.

I felt something warm on my forehead. I looked up to see Chloe standing close, her bare legs almost touching my nose. Her palm was pressed softly against my fur.

“Thank you,” she whispered, “I was hoping you’d come.”

My bear sighed with contentment at her touch.

Inside I felt my heart crack and break in response to the bitter sweet token of her acceptance. She would probably never see me as anything more than a beast, but at least she didn’t hate me.

It was enough. For now.

Chapter thirteen

We drove back to town in silence. There were a million things I wanted to ask, questions buzzing about my mind as it flipped itself inside out trying to come to terms, logically, with what I’d witnessed.

After the fight, Nathan had transformed back into a man. I had watched as the fur slowly receded from his body to be replaced by smooth skin. The huge bulk of the grizzly had adapted and transfigured into a human physique, tall, broad… perfect.

Despite the awful strangeness, the horrific sounds that once again accompanied the transformation, when I looked at him – human once again, I felt the same stirrings of carnal lust that I’d experienced on every encounter I’d ever had with the man. Only this time he was naked. My own feelings disturbed me more than anything else.

I wanted to get home. I needed space to think, to process the nightmare that I’d lived the last few hours. But home didn’t feel safe. The fact that those creatures knew where I lived made my home feel sullied and unwelcoming.

“I know you probably want to go home,” Nathan broke the silence, anticipating my request, “But it’s not safe there at the moment. There are others, more of the Bow Mar clan that pose a threat.”

I nodded slowly. Great. More half-humans happy to hunt me down in some kind of bear war, while the rest of the world remained completely oblivious to their existence.

“I’m so sorry, Chloe. I know you’ve been through a lot.”

I glanced over, watching his jaw twitch with repressed anger. I recalled the men saying that this was his brother’s mess – I wondered if Nathan’s anger was directed at the Bow Mar clan or his own kin.

“I have lots of questions,” I replied as levelly as I could, “But I need a shower, and I need food and some rest. I… I don’t know where to go.”

“I want you to stay at my place,” he hesitated, “I know it’s not ideal. It’s probably the last place you want to be right now, but it’s also the safest.”

I nodded again. No, it wasn’t ideal. I wanted space from Nathan. I was so grateful that he’d saved me, but at the same time I needed to process everything that had gone on tonight.

I watched from the window as the landmarks started to look more familiar. Nearing the city, I started to feel better. There might be mythological creatures surrounding Denver, but there was also a Starbucks and a Seven-Eleven. The world hadn’t gone completely bat-shit.

“I’ll stay with you,” I murmured.

He exhaled with relief, and I could practically feel some of the tension leaving his body. He was genuinely concerned, and the realization surprised me. I no longer understood what was going on between us, but perhaps the magnetic pull I seemed to have toward him was reciprocated. I didn’t want to dwell on it.  Whatever my body, and in all honestly my heart, felt, I needed cold, hard logic to take over for now.

“I need to know a few things first,” I demanded.

“You can ask me anything.” He replied, his tone somber and full of regret.

“Your…abilities – was it something you were born with? Have you always been this way?”

“Yes,” he nodded, “It’s passed on through the genes. My father and mother were like this, and now so are my idiot brother and I. We come from a long line of shifters.”

“And who were those guys? Another pack or something?”

“Clan,” he corrected, “Yes. They’ve always been a problem. One I thought I’d solved – until Byron fucked it up by starting a fight with them.”

He’d spoken about Byron on our date, though obviously not about him being a bear. Oh. The bear in the woods.

“When I saw you in the forest, was that Byron you were helping? That bear? Was that the fight that started this?”

“Yes,” he replied tersely.

So, Brianna and I had witnessed a shifter fight. Wow. The thought that Brianna had been tending to a half-human bear made me feel slightly hysterical, and I started giggling.

“What?” Nathan asked, bemused.

“Nothing…it’s just – Jesus. I can’t get my head around this. I need coffee.” I groaned, my hysteria subsiding as a pounding headache grew in its place.

“We’re almost home. I have coffee.”

I nodded and hoped he also had a shit-ton of painkillers and a powerful shower. I leaned back into the plush car seat, closing my eyes. The questions would just have to wait.

Chapter fourteen

I let her sleep.

As soon as we got home, she made a bee-line to the shower. When she emerged, she was wrapped in my bathrobe, only her toes and face visible from the swathes of terrycloth that engulfed her. Color had been restored to her cheeks, and her damp hair smelled summer-orchard sweet.

My bear had tugged at me again, and I felt my hard-on, rock solid and needy, pressing uncomfortably against my suit pants.

I’d shown her to the guest bedroom, thinking she’d be more comfortable without being surrounded by my things. It was now seven in the evening and she still hadn’t woken.

I had spent the day working from home, but it had been torture knowing that Chloe’s naked body was nearby. The thought of her laying between the cotton sheets, her hair and skin pressed against my pillows, her soft, large breasts exposed, was enough to drive me near insane with distraction.

The only blessing was the absence of Byron. Had he been here, my rage at his stupidity and the selfishness of his actions would have potentially put him in an early grave.

“You look angry.”

I’d been so consumed by thoughts of my brother, I hadn’t heard her enter the room. She looked rumpled and adorable, a light crease across her cheek where she’d slept.

“I was thinking about my brother,” I smiled, pulling out a chair, “Good morning.”

“Don’t you mean good evening?” She asked, looking out across the city expanse visible from the window.

“Morning for you. Coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

I set about brewing a fresh pot, noticing with satisfaction that she sat on the chair next to mine. Part of me had been worried that when she awoke, she’d run screaming from my apartment. But even in the short time I had known Chloe, I should have realized that she wasn’t the kind of woman to run. She was brave, bold and courageous. In truth, I was in awe.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve just been in a mental car crash. I’m still having a hard time believing everything.”

“Well, if you have questions, I’ll answer as honestly as I can.”

She didn’t say anything for a while, and it was only after she took her first sip of coffee that she spoke again.

“Where you ever going to tell me?”

I sighed. That was a complex question. I didn’t know how to reply without telling her how I truly felt about her.

“Yes,” I said eventually, “If things had gone as I’d hoped between us, I would have tried to break it to you gently.”

A corner of her mouth turned up at that and I could see the barest hint of amusement dancing in her eyes.

“Break it to me gently? How did you think you’d accomplish that?”

“Honestly,” I laughed, “I had no fucking idea. I’ve never… well, I’ve never felt this connection with another human, or shifter for that matter.”

She took another sip of coffee and I could see her digesting the information.

“Do shifters normally only date other shifters?”

‘Dating’ was a strange term for the bonding that took place between mates, but I knew what she meant. I also knew that humans had no concept of the strength of two souls entwining completely the way we did in the shifter world. Our bonds were sacred, unchanging and forever.

“As far as I know, yes.”

“Oh.”

She looked down at her coffee, not meeting my eyes.

“But everyone is different. And I’ve never felt the way I do about you before, not with a human or a shifter.”

It was as close as I could get to the truth. The brief second she took to reply felt like an eternity. I’d put myself on the line. Emotional exposure wasn’t something I was used to.

“Oh.” She said again, but this time I could see a small smile teasing at the edges of her lips.

Her bathrobe had fallen open slightly at the top revealing the plump curve of her cleavage moving slowly with the rise and fall of her chest.

I wanted to claim her. To move her luscious hair from her neck and expose the soft, silky skin of her throat. To mark her with a bite that would show the world that this woman belonged to me. Marking her as my own would seal our unbreakable bond, so that I would never have to spend another day of my life without seeing, touching or being allowed to pleasure Chloe Carpenter.

I carefully took the coffee cup out of her hands and placed it down on the table. I did move her hair, tilting her chin up toward me, but only to kiss her softly on the lips. She tasted like mint and coffee, and I groaned as I parted her lips with mine, wanting to drown in her taste, to lick and kiss every inch of her.

The kiss seemed to have the same effect on her as it did on me. She rose out of the chair, pressing her body to mine. I squeezed her full, ample bottom and drew her against my rock-hard cock so that she could feel how much I wanted her.

She gasped, but clung to the back of my shirt, driving me closer.

“I don’t know how I feel,” she said, breaking away from me, “But I want you – I need you inside me, I need you to make me feel safe again.”

I nodded, gazing into her clear brown eyes, praying that I’d be able to melt away her furrowed brow. I never wanted Chloe to feel like she was in danger ever again. I would eagerly end anyone who threatened her. Hell, I’d wipe out the entire world if that’s what it took to keep her safe.

She kissed me again, and I picked her up in my arms, wrapping her legs around my waist. I could smell her arousal and feel the heat and wetness from between her thighs pressed against my belt. Damn, it was nearly enough to make me lose all control.

Gritting my teeth, I moved her through to my bedroom. I wanted to make Chloe scream with pleasure and ecstasy before I allowed myself to be lost in her.

Chapter fifteen

It felt like tingles of electricity were tearing up and down inside my body and collecting at my core. The dampness of my arousal was flooding between my legs.

Nathan’s arms around me and his and body pressed against me were on fire, but it was nothing compared to the scorching gaze he held fixed on me. His eyes were glowing again, the navy midnight storm brewing within him, hypnotizing me.

Nathan laid me gently on the bed, parting the soft robe and exposing my body to the cool temperature of the room. My nipples pebbled, and goose bumps ran lightly across my skin as he moved his body away from mine and stood looking down at me.

My chest heaved, nerves and anxiety now mixing with my desire as I lay completely exposed to him. His eyes were hooded and wanting, and his gaze drank in every curve and crevice of my body.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

His voice was horse and ragged, his obvious hunger causing my body to tremble in anticipation of his touch.

He removed his shirt, button by button, his scorching gaze never leaving my body. When his chest was finally exposed, the taut muscle and undulations of his six-pack looked like they had been carved from marble. The raw, animalistic power that I knew simmered below the surface terrified me, but my body desperately ached for him.

He discarded his pants on the floor, and stood before me in designer boxers that could hardly contain his thick, heavy erection. My legs drew together in response to his sheer size, but he leaned forward and gently parted them.

“Don’t hide from me Chloe,” he breathed, “Please.”

He didn’t remove his boxers. He knelt up on the bed, running his fingers up and down my thighs, and as I started to relax, his fingers travelled slowly upward.

He extended his index finger, and ran it lightly along the sensitive lips of my core. I felt my muscles spasm and widen in response, and blushed at the juices that coated his finger. He inhaled sharply and his cock twitched beneath the cotton of his boxers.

He continued to softly trace between my legs with his finger, exploring, his eyes watching my face for responses. My clit tightened and hardened, and as the tip of his finger traced it gently, my entire body quivered.

Parting my legs wider, he slid me further up the bed. He began to kiss lightly up the length of my thigh, closer and closer to my center. Instinctively and wantonly, I moved toward him, desperate for more.

He smirked, teasing me. I felt cool air dance between my legs as he blew gently on me. My head felt light as I gasped with pleasure, no longer able to look at what he was doing, I could only feel; my blindness making the sensations all the more overwhelming.

I felt his tongue lick the length of my pussy, it’s heat after the cool air made me cry out. My whole body responded, from the shivers at my neck to the curling of my toes.

He lapped up my juices with his tongue, long and flickering licks that sent firecrackers shooting inside me. As the waves of my orgasm started to engulf my body, he pressed deeper, his tongue burrowing into my folds and his mouth clamped tightly over my pussy. Orgasmic waves crashed violently over me. Somewhere, I heard myself crying out his name, but I was lost in oblivion.

Weak but wanting more, I rose up on my elbows. He smiled at me, a dirty and wicked grin that fluttered my stomach.

He removed his boxers, his erection long and heavy jutting out above his swollen ball sack. This time, rather than feeling overwhelmed by his size, I widened my legs greedily and felt my muscles expand and contract with need.

The tip of his cock glistened with his seed. Before he could take control, I sat up and pulled his hips toward me. I glanced up at him, checking his reaction. The smirk was gone, and now his expression read surprise and full-blown lust.

I licked the tip of his engorged erection causing him to groan in response. The heady feeling of having this powerful man at my mercy was intoxicating. I slid my lips over him, wrapping them around his girth, tasting his hot, salty warmth in my throat.

I moved my mouth up and down his shaft feeling his heart rate accelerate wildly. When he entwined his fingers into my hair and balled them into fists, gripping my head, I sucked harder. A cry escaped his lips and he pulled away.

“I don’t want to come like this,” he responded gruffly, “I need to be inside you.”

I released him from my mouth, and fell back onto the sheets. My body temperature felt a hundred degrees hotter than it should, and droplets of perspiration ran between my breasts.

With his cock slick and coated in my saliva, he gently pushed at my opening. He bent his head and took my nipple between his teeth, teasing it with his tongue as inch by inch he slid himself inside me.

I could feel my body stretch to accommodate him, his thickness and length stretching me and filling me completely. As he moved, the delicious friction of our skin caused me to cry out.

“Are you okay,” he rasped, his eyes suddenly full of concern.

“God, yes – don’t stop.”

He pushed deeper inside me, then gently pulled back, finding a rhythm which would too soon make me lose all control. My legs wrapped around him, my heels digging into his sculpted ass. He buried his face between my breasts, a low growl emanating from deep within him.

Our rhythm increased, growing faster and hotter. I wanted more. A deep yearning was spreading throughout my veins, the muscles of channel clutching at him, driving him inside me.

I felt the waves of another orgasm starting to build. He grasped my bottom, drawing me upwards, allowing himself to plunge deeper, filling every part of me.

“Fuck,” he cried, and rode into me with a thrust that sent an orgasm ricocheting through every nerve ending in my body. I screamed, loudly, and then felt his hot throbbing pulses as his seed flooded into me.

Chapter sixteen

I drew her body closer to mine. She sighed with contentment as I kissed her lightly on the forehead. I couldn’t seem to keep my hands off her. My fingers lightly traced the soft skin of her breasts, gently teasing the nipples as they hardened under my touch. She was exquisite. So beautiful.

I could feel my cock growing hard again, pushing against her thigh. When she smiled wickedly at me, I turned her over so that she faced the window and I could bury my head in her soft hair, and sink my fingers into the full, round orbs of her ass.

“Again?”

I could hear the smile in her voice, and nuzzled her neck in response.

“This is entirely your fault,” I grinned, “But I’ll be gentle.”

In this position I had to be. It was more aligned with natural bear mating, and had my bear crying out to claim her. Scratching at my skin to take control. I wouldn’t allow it. I desperately wanted to mark Chloe, claim her as my mate, and to bond fully with the woman I now knew without a shadow of a doubt owned my heart and soul. But she was human, and it was too soon to ask for forever from her.

I kissed her shoulder blade, lightly running my tongue over the smattering of freckles that decorated her skin, tasting her sweetness. I closed my eyes, keeping my bear’s urges to bite her at bay.

My cock pressed against her ass cheek, my pre-cum leaving a trail on her skin. I slid between her legs. She was wet and warm and groaned softly as I entered her.

Her arm reached back to clasp my thigh, and we moved against one another soundlessly, lost in the languid, lazy friction that was pounding waves of heat through our bodies.

“I never want you to leave my bed.” I sighed against her skin.

“Then I won’t,” she replied softly. She turned over to face me, breaking us apart.

She kissed me deeply, her tongue finding mine with a renewed, needful energy. She drew me back inside her, and then straddled me. I clutched at her waist, watching her beautiful, soft, curvy body glide up and down on my cock.

Fucking hell.

She was a complete goddess. Her dark hair gently fell around her breasts as they swayed and bounced gently with her motion. Her breathing came in short gasps and her legs clasped against the sides of my body. She was close.

I watch her, mesmerized by her beauty as she took her pleasure from me. I thrust upward, moving my hips off the bed. Her eyes widened and pussy clenched me tightly as she cried out, my name falling sweetly from her lips.

That was all it took. I couldn’t hold back any longer and my entire body exploding in release.

“Fuck Chloe.”

She collapsed down next to me, smiling up at the ceiling.

“That was incredible,” she sighed.

I wondered if she could feel it. The strengthening of our bond every time we touched one another. I felt more in tune with her body, her moods. As if part of her now inhabited me.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, feeling my own stomach knot with a ravenous appetite.

“Starved,” she laughed.

“I’m going to order in, I don’t really feel like sharing you with the world right now. We can eat on the terrace.”

“Good, I feel the same way,” she gave me a mischievous look, “I also don’t think we should move too far from the bed.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Chloe stood and retrieved herself a fresh white shirt from my closet and brought it back to the bed. I smiled. Just the thought of watching Chloe spend the evening in a shirt that only just covered her sexy ass made my balls ache.

“This will do,” she smiled back at me.

I reached for my cell. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten at home in the evening. And I’d never done it with a woman before. It felt good. Natural. For the first time since I’d moved in five years ago, my apartment suddenly felt like a home.

Chapter seventeen

Nathan’s terrace was spectacular. Its view overlooked the twinkling lights of the city below and the mountains beyond. A few candles I’d found in Nathan’s kitchen drawers flickered on the table.

We’d ordered Korean food, the take out boxes cluttered the table because Nathan had distracted me with neck kisses when I’d tried to plate up the food. He held my foot in his lap, his fingers running up and down my leg while we ate. The evening was perfect, and I wanted to get lost in the moment but all I could think about was returning to his bed.

Something strange had happened when we slept together. I didn’t understand it, and I wasn’t sure if it was just my hormones going crazy after sex, but I felt connected to him on a deeply profound level that I couldn’t explain. This whole thing just felt so… big.

“Do you feel…?” I started to ask him if he was experiencing the enormity of emotions that I was, but stopped suddenly afraid he’d think I was crazy.

He smiled at me, his eyes burning bright.

“The connection?” He replied.

“Exactly. I feel like…I don’t know – like I can feel your moods, like you’re inside my head. Or something…” I trailed off. I needed help here, before I started sounded like an infatuated teenager.

“Good,” Nathan answered sounding relieved. “Yes, I feel it. It’s the start of the bonding process,” he cleared his throat and I could feel a nervous energy pass between us, “I don’t want to scare you off, but I think, I know, that my bear wants to… claim you. As my mate.”

“Wasn’t what we just did – mating?” I asked, confused.

“Not exactly,” he smirked, “When a shifter claims his mate, he marks her.

“Marks her?”

“A claiming bite.”

He laughed when he saw my expression.

“The bite is a mark that tells the world, and other shifters, that his mate has been claimed. Forever bonded,” he continued. “Once mated, the process is irreversible. I know you’re not ready for that yet.”

Wow.

“Are you?” I asked, with genuine amazement.

“Yes,” he replied simply, “But as a shifter, I know. I can feel – in every fiber of my being, that you’re mine. You’re it for me. It’s not the same for humans. I can’t expect you to feel the same way. So we’ll wait.” He shrugged, unperturbed by the intensity of the conversation.

I thought about it. The crazy potency of feelings I had for Nathan, which in retrospect I’d felt even that first day in the forest. It had grown exponentially in the ridiculously short time I’d known him, but forever?

Was I ready for forever? I knew without a doubt that Nathan was the one for me. I couldn’t walk away, even if I wanted to. Now that I had experienced our connection, there wouldn’t be a day or an hour that my body and soul didn’t yearn to feel it renewed.

“I will never pressure you into anything,” Nathan held my gaze, “My feelings for you won’t change, however long it takes you to decide.”

I nodded. A blissful contentment saturated my entire being. This incredible man loved me, without wanting anything in return. I felt humbled.

“Am I interrupting?”

A man appeared through the kitchen doors, grinning at us both.

“Yes you fucking are,” Nathan growled at him.

“Hey, you’re one of the girls from the forest,” he smiled at me and held out his hand, “I’m Byron – and I hear I’m the reason you spent the night in a dank basement – my sincerest apologies.”

The brother. I shook his hand, bemused. I had thought I’d feel anger toward the man responsible for such a mess, but there was something about him – a recklessness and a rebel charm that made it impossible to hate him on sight.

He looked so much like Nathan, but Nathan cultivated an image of raw masculinity tempered with a strength and control that would put the fear in any Ivy League business mogul. Byron was the kind of guy that put fear into the hearts of mothers – the poster boy for broken hearts, unwanted pregnancies and bad choices.

“You’re not forgiven.” Nathan snapped.

“Chloe – I am so sorry.” Byron beseeched my forgiveness again, practically getting down on one knee in earnestness.

“It’s okay,” I smiled at Nathan, “It’s nice to meet you Byron.”

“You too,” he shot his brother a look of triumph.

“How are you feeling,” I asked, “after your fight?”

“Fully recovered, so my generous brother is kicking me to the curb.”

“You’re lucky I haven’t thrown you off the roof, idiot.”

Byron ignored him and turned his attentions back to me.

“Tell me about your friend, Bri – the girl who was so bear friendly in the forest.”

I laughed. Not in a million years would Byron appeal to Brianna. His good looks couldn’t be denied, but Bri was violently allergic to any whiff of ‘bad boy’ impulses.

“Brianna,” I corrected, “She works at the same company I do. I’ll introduce you if you like.”

He beamed at me, delighted. He didn’t have a chance in hell, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. Besides, after all my failed matchmaking attempts, perhaps I wasn’t the best person to judge what my friend actually wanted.

“Alright, you got what you came for – now get out,” Nathan commanded.

Byron backed away with his arms out in mock surrender.

“It was lovely to meet you Chloe. Call me if he gets out of hand.”

Nathan rose to his feet, furious, and Byron turned and ran from the terrace. I burst out laughing. Seeing Nathan antagonized by his younger brother showed me a new side of him, one I hadn’t seen yet, and it warmed me.

“I’m going to get him a collar and a bell,” Nathan said in disgust.

“He’s harmless – and it all turned out okay,” I soothed him, “I can think of a million things we can do to distract you, if that’s what you want?” I teased.

He grabbed me, his mood suddenly light and playful.

“That’s what I want,” he smirked.

“Good, it’s what I want too,” I smiled up at him and batted my lashes and he tightened his grip around my waist.

“And while we’re at it, we’ll talk about that claiming thing.” I looked up into his eyes, wanting him to read the unspoken promise in mine. He nodded perceptibly.

Suddenly I could think of nothing I wanted more than Nathan, forever.

THE END

Want to read more? This is book one in a series. Look for Book 2, Byron: Heartbreaker Bear, which can be found in Amazon’s Kindle store.

ZAREK

Dragons of Plarizakian

STORY DESCRIPTION

When Alien Warrior Weredragon Zarek Rav meets curvy biologist Aubrey Moss, sparks fly!

As the newest biologist at Gen-Ex, mousy Aubrey Moss wants nothing more than to please the president of the research facility, her domineering and overbearing father.

But, despite being the top female research biologist in the country, she still can’t seem to escape his demeaning jabs and cutting insults.

When Aubrey is tasked with a job that no one at the facility has been able to achieve, retrieving samples from one of the research subjects, an extra-terrestrial called Zarek Rav, her attraction to him is so powerful, it overwhelms her.

Zarek’s planet is destroyed, his people on the hunt for a new home. When Zarek is wounded, the Parizakians are forced to leave him behind to shuttle the others to safety. But they’ll return, and when they do….

…they will destroy all who oppose them.

Zarek need only bide his time before he will leave Earth and be reunited with his people. The last thing he expected to find on this obscure planet was a mate. But, the human female called Aubrey with her thick, soft curves, beautiful smile and warm heart initiates an attraction deep inside of the warrior that is stronger than anything he has ever felt.

When the fate of millions rest in Aubrey’s hands, will she defy her father’s wishes to help Zarek return to his people? Will Zarek and his people accept her into their fold?

Chapter One

Zarek Rav shifted the control stick, moving the monitor’s red bull’s eye a fraction of an inch. The adjustment wasn’t really necessary, but Zarek needed something to distract him from the anxiety of landing on a new, virtually unknown planet. The two-foot monitor in front of his pilot control displayed images of a desert area in the southwestern region of the United States. This area, over which Zarek’s ship hovered, would provide both the isolation and the aridness Zarek’s race, the Plarizakians, needed to live a peaceful and comfortable existence.

It looks so much like home, Zarek thought, sighing. No matter the climate, though, Zarek knew it would never feel like home. The Plarizakians no longer had a home. The Nefarianics, a water-dragon race, had flooded Plarizakia’s desserts, making it uninhabitable to the shifter dragon/humanoid Plarizakians.

“You gonna make it over there?” Virlek, Zarek’s best friend and weapon’s operator, asked.

Zarek jumped at the sound, turning his head quickly in Virlek’s direction. Then, he picked up his empty metal drinking container and tossed it toward his friend, a gesture of feigned irritation. Virlek caught the bottle easily.

He tossed the bottle back before speaking again. “No one’s gonna make it anywhere if Jandric doesn’t get out here. Hey, Jandric? You done in there yet?”

A door in the rear section of the circular spacecraft opened. A short, stocky man entered the room, shutting the bathroom door behind him.

“Fine, fine,” Jandric said, walking to the telecommunications panel, sitting, and entering his access code. He was preparing to send a transmission to the other Plarizakian ships that waited in the shadows of the Milky Way. “What’s the hurry? We’ve been looking for an inhabitable area for what—five years now?”

Zarek reached for his drink container again. Virlek followed his lead. Jandric, his back to them, kept tapping away at his control panel as both Zarek and Virlek threw their empty bottles at him.

“Ow!” Jandric shouted as the metal containers hit him on the back. He picked up Virlek’s bottle and flung it back. “Do you want me to send this message or what?!”

“Yes!” Zarek and Virlek hollered at the same time.

Virlek and Zarek sat in silence as they waited. Zarek’s mind went back to his home planet. Images of his family, now dead, flashed through his mind. He saw his father falling and drowning in the waves that enveloped Plarizakia. His saw his mother succumbing to the same fate. His little brother had almost made it to the ship, but a Nefarianic had spotted him. Zarek saw his little brother’s petite body disappear, covered in a blast of water. Zarek blew out a long, slow breath and, shaking his head to clear the memories, forced himself back into the present.

“Transmission sent,” Jandric said. “The ships will be heading this way soon. Meanwhile, we’re clear to land.”

Zarek let himself smile—the first real smile that had crossed his face since the Nefarianics had attacked, since he had lost his entire family, since all hope for a future life had drained from his very being. He took the control stick between fingers, readying the ship for landing. As he was about to move the toggle, though, the ship rocked. He pulled his hand away from the panel. The ship shook again, sparks flying from the weapons-control panel. Virlek covered his face with his forearm and turned away.

“Weapons are down,” Virlek said as soon as the smoke cleared.

“Human aircrafts!” Zarek hollered, looking at his own monitor. “Ten of them. We’re surrounded.”

“The weapons won’t come back online,” Virlek reported. “Unless…”

“Unless what?” Zarek yelled back.

“Unless one of us repairs them from the outside,” Virlek answered. “The shots tore the front panel off. They pulled the wires right out. If one of us could reattach the wires, we might have just enough juice for one shot. That should give us a chance to get out of here.”

“Fine,” Zarek said, standing. “Jandric and I can cover you while you reattach the panel.”

“But—” Virlek started to protest.

“I know it’s dangerous, Virlek, but our people depend on us. If this is the only to get out of here, to warn them, then we take this way.”

“But—” Virlek protested again.

“Enough!” Zarek growled, already starting to transform. He shrugged his uniform vest off as his shoulders expanded, their bulging muscles growing and lengthening. He unbuttoned his white pants, hurrying before his fingers turned into claws. He pulled the pants down, exposing his abdomen, his hips, and briefly, his well-endowed frontal parts. Like his shoulders, his thigh muscles tightened, grew, and lengthened. His tan skin turned to green scales, reflecting rainbows of color.

“Open the doors!” he ordered Jandric, looking over at his stocky friend. Jandric’s brown skin had turned to black scales. Jandric pushed the release button for the door. Both dragons darted out while Virlek, still in his human form, followed them. He had a magnetic breast plate strapped over his chest, one that would secure him to the surface of the ship and leave his hands free.

“Now!” Zarek jumped from the ship, expanding his massive wings as he flew right. Jandric flew out the ship’s door, veering toward the left. The dragons circled the ship, forcing the planes to move back.

“How much longer?” Zarek asked Virlek, who had been working on the panel for five minutes.

“Now!” Virlek shouted. From the corner of his eye, Zarek saw Virlek slide the weapons panel back in place. As he did, though, sparks shot out from the edge of the panel. An explosion rocked the ship. The panel shot back out, pushing Virlek, magnetic suit and all, off the surface and into empty air.

As Zarek dove to catch Virlek, one of the planes opened fire on the dragon, catching him just below his left wing. Zarek started falling before he could reach his friend. He watched as Virlek transformed, his clothes shredding as his muscles and bones rearranged themselves. His skin became dark blue scales.

“Go!” Zarek shouted to his crew members, to his friends, even as he continued to fall. “Go! Save yourselves. Save our people.”

Virlek flapped his giant wings, directing his body toward Zarek.

“I said, go!” Zarek hollered as loudly as he could. He felt himself weakening. His chest hurt so badly. His breaths were shallow. “Go while you still can. Go while their attention is on me. This is the chance you needed.”

Then, Zarek lost consciousness. His body continued to fall toward the desert floor. His ship hovered for half a second, hesitating before it shot up and away from the military ships, away from Earth, away from its captain, and toward the outer shadows of the Milky Way.

Chapter Two

“Don’t blow this,” Aubrey Moss whispered around the edge of the ID badge she held between her teeth. She started wrapping an elastic around her ponytail.

“Don’t blow this,” she whispered again as she clamped the ID badge onto the chest pocket of her size-18 black pantsuit. She tried to get the badge to lie flat but gave up. The fullness of her cleavage did not lend itself to anything lying flat against it.

“Don’t blow this,” she repeated one more time. These were not words of self-encouragement, though. As she spoke, she was hearing the voice of her father, Raymond Moss, the president of Gen-Ex. Aubrey was about to head out of the locker room and into her first briefing as an employee of her father’s company.

As Aubrey tightened her ponytail, a stubborn, curly bump popped up on the top of her head.

“You’re so going to blow this,” Aubrey whispered, looking down at her shaking hands. She felt like she was going to cry. Tears welled in her eyes. She tried to take deep breaths. She closed her eyes.

You are an elite female biologist, she thought, trying to encourage herself. You graduated at the top of your class. You got the job because you deserve it. Prove that to yourself. You deserve this. Prove that to you father.

“You deserve this,” she repeated out loud. Her heart rate slowed. Her breathing became regular and she started to feel better.

“Aubrey!” her father yelled, pushing the locker door open a crack. “What the hell is taking you so long? You need brains to work here, not beauty, thank God.”

Aubrey’s shoulders tensed again. She put her hands in the pockets of her black dress pants, trying to hide the fact that they were trembling again. Her father held the door open for her.

“Don’t blow this, Aubrey,” he said under his breath as she squeezed between his bulbous belly and the door frame. She stiffened her entire body to try to hide her trembling that had increased in proportion to the proximity of her father, but she kept walking.

“All right, gentleman,” her father’s voice boomed around the room as he shut the door of the briefing room behind him. He walked to his seat, leaving Aubrey standing by the door. One of the ten men sitting around the table stood, offering her his chair.

“No, no, she’s fine,” her father said from the head of the conference table. He sat, clasping his hands atop his belly, leaning back in the chair.

“She can sit there. We won’t be long.” Her father unclasped his hands long enough to point to a row of chairs against the wall.

Aubrey sat, putting her shaking, sweaty hands under thighs. The middle-aged gentleman with the goatee who had offered her his chair shrugged before sitting back down.

“I assume you’ve all already discussed the statuses of our, uh, samples?” her father asked, looking up from an open folder and meeting the gaze of every man in the room.

“Yes, Mr. Moss.”

“Yes, sir.”

The men around the room uttered similar sentiments before the room fell silent again. Raymond Moss shuffled through a few more folders.

“And the new one?” he asked, looking up again.

The goateed man sat straight before speaking. “Well, uh, we’ve had problems getting samples and, uh—”

“And?” her Father asked gruffly.

“We’ve had problems obtaining specimens from the newest sample,” the man said, clearly this time.

“Robert, Robert, Robert,” Raymond sat back in his chair, clasping his hands over his belly again. “You are the top biologist in this damn country. I pay you the wages of the top biologist in this damn country.”

“Yes, sir,” Robert said, looking down at the table that separated him from his boss. “But—”

“I don’t want excuses, Robert,” Raymond slammed his fist on the table.

“Yes, sir,” Robert said, still looking down.

“Now, go get me a damn sample.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And take Aubrey with you,” Raymond nodded toward his daughter. “She’s the top female biologist in the country. Maybe all you need is a woman’s touch. You don’t look like you get much of that.”

Robert stared open-mouthed at Raymond’s crudeness. Aubrey fought the urge to cover her face with her hands.

“Go!” Raymond growled, pointing to the door.

Robert nodded, stood, and led Aubrey out the door.

“Sorry,” Robert said when the elevator door closed.

“How far down does this thing go?” Aubrey asked, trying to change the subject. She gestured toward the many buttons by the door.

“The elevator goes down twenty-one floors, but there are really twenty-two floors below the surface.”

Robert didn’t say anything else. The elevator was uncomfortably silent, so Aubrey tried again.

“What are these samples everyone keeps talking about? I mean, why just call them samples? Are they plants? Animals? What? Why all the secrecy?”

“You’ll see for yourself,” Robert said. “There’s no better way to explain. You’ll see.”

The elevator dinged.

“That’s us,” Robert escorted Aubrey out the door.

Aubrey watched her feet as she exited the elevator. She was only wearing small heels, but to her, any heels were gigantic. The last thing she wanted to do right now was fall on her face in front of her new co-workers.

Don’t blow it, her father’s words echoed in her head again.

As soon as she was sure her feet were on solid ground, Aubrey looked up. What she saw was no different than any other lab, though perhaps cleaner and more humane-looking. There were rows and rows of aquariums, not the cages most research companies used to house their mice and gerbils and cats and dogs and primates. It was quieter, too.

The glass must be soundproof, Aubrey thought.

Robert grasped her elbow, leading her through the lab.

“This way,” Robert said, pointing to a metal door on the far side of the room. He scanned his ID badge in the slot beside the door and they entered an anteroom. The first door slid closed behind them. The panels on each side of the narrow anteroom began to emit a bright blue light. After a few seconds, a zapping sound filled the room. Then, the lights turned off and the door in front of them opened.

Unable to keep her eyes from the sight that unfolded in front of her, Aubrey took a step into the room, catching her heel on the door’s bottom guides and stumbling forward. Fortunately, she didn’t fall.

Aubrey and Robert stood on a metal floor. Ten feet from her was a railing that opened up into a round hole in the center of the floor. The walls held hundreds and hundreds of glass tanks similar to the ones she had seen in the first room. The sizes of these tanks were different, though. Some could have fit in the palm of her hand. Some were over four stories high.

Aubrey turned to the tank closest to her. It was a small tank that held what appeared to be an octopus, but this octopus was barely the size of her thumb. Instead of suction cups, it had yellow flower-like protrusions running the length of its arms. As soon as the octopus thing saw Aubrey, its eyes grew larger and larger, almost covering its entire body. Its arms tensed. With a sudden movement, metal-like hooks shot out of the flower protrusions. The animal darted to the edge of the tank, its hooks making contact with the glass. Aubrey jumped back, gasping.

Robert laughed a little, but Aubrey didn’t sense anything but good humor in that laugh. She walked on.

“Is that Jello?” she asked, pointing to a ten-foot by ten-foot aquarium.

“No, that is Bob,” Robert responded.

Bob was a red, gelatinous, square blob.

“Fitting name,” Aubrey said. “What does he do?”

“Uh, nothing really.”

Aubrey looked at Robert. “What do any of these things do? What are they?”

“They’re, uh, well, that’s kind of what we are trying to figure out. That’s what we do.”

“Where did they come from?”

Robert shrugged. “Mostly, well, from space.”

“Space…huh,” Aubrey thought for a minute. She supposed she should have been more shocked, but she had always been obsessed with alien movies. She had even done a paper defending the existence of aliens, so she was far more curious than shocked.

Or maybe I’m in shock.

Aubrey moved on to the next tank. It was the same size as Bob’s tank, but it held something much hairier. As Aubrey moved closer, the creature looked up, exposing its electric blue face. The massive gorilla-like creature stood. The hairless skin of its front was entirely blue. The thing flexed its arm muscles. Its hair stood on end, filling every inch of the container. Electric sparks started making their way from its body to the ends of its hair.

“Cover your eyes,” Robert told her. Aubrey obeyed, but she could still see the brilliant blue light through her fingers as the electricity in the aquarium continued to build. Then, the light was gone. She lowered her hand and saw only hair again.

“It builds up the electricity to defend itself,” Robert explained nonchalantly. Aubrey nodded as if she completely understood.

“But enough of these for now,” Robert told her, picking up speed as he continued toward the door on the opposite side of the room. “We need to get down to the next floor.”

“What’s there?” Aubrey asked.

“Something…something…more…”

“More than all this,” she asked, gesturing around the room.

“Yes, something more than this.”

“How could anything be more than this?”

“You’ll see.”

Aubrey followed Robert through the metal door, which was decorated with a giant “No Unauthorized Access” sign.

“Geez,” Aubrey said as they entered another anteroom. “What kind of access do you need to get in here? I figure if you can get into the other room— ”

“Trust me. This one’s different. There are only three people with access to this room—me, your father, and now you.”

Aubrey was about to ask more questions, but Robert had already exited the anteroom. She followed him as he descended a spiral staircase. At the bottom of the stairs was another metal door. Robert scanned his badge. Aubrey, expecting to walk into yet another anteroom, inhaled sharply when she caught site of what was behind this door. She stood in the tiny control room as a scaly, green dragon, larger than an airplane rushed toward her, spewing fire in front of him. As the flames hit the glass separating the control room from the creature, Aubrey realized she had stopped breathing. Still, she couldn’t will her frozen self to take a breath.

Don’t blow this, she heard her father’s voice.

Too late, she responded as she fainted, crumbling to the floor.

Chapter Three

“Wake up,” Aubrey heard Robert’s voice above her. Her eyes fluttered open. Robert cradled her head under one of his hands, fanning her face with a piece of paper. She blinked a few more times before struggling to rise up onto her elbows.

“You okay?” Robert asked. “You sure you don’t need a few more minutes?”

“I’m fine,” she said, standing.

The room was set up like a cockpit, a chair on each side of the glass doors that led into the enclosure beyond. Like the metal doors they had passed through, the passageway leading into the giant aquarium had two sets of doors separated by an anteroom. Aubrey looked through both doors, and what she saw made her exhale sharply.

Breath, she told herself, forcing air in and out of her chest.

There was no longer a dragon behind the far door. Instead, there was a man, a very well-built, very sweaty, very naked man. She saw his well-toned calves. She stared at his muscular thighs. She traced the v of his abdomen with her eyes. She licked her dry lips before abruptly turning toward Robert.

“Is that—” she stuttered. “What—is—What is that?”

“Right now,” Robert answered, “it appears to be a man.”

“But—it—was—”

“It was a dragon, yes. It shifts from dragon to man. It is also an alien.”

“How did you…”

“It came in a few nights ago. The military shot it down over New Mexico. There were others with him, but they got away.”

Aubrey looked back at the dragon man. She watched as beads of sweat dripped down his chest, around the muscles of his abdomen, dipping into the v that lead to his—Aubrey looked back toward Robert.

“So, exactly what kind of specimens are we supposed to collect from this ‘sample’?” she asked.

“The usual, you know, hair, skin, saliva, sweat…”

“Oh,” she whispered, looking back into the container. The man had placed his forearms on the glass just over his head. His biceps tightened. His shoulders muscles hardened. She licked her lips again.

“Can he can speak our language? Can he understand, at least?” she asked.

“Sure,” Robert said. “Both. Doesn’t talk much though.”

Robert had walked to the corner of the control room to retrieve a clipboard and a large black duffel bag, both of which he carried toward the door. After scanning his card, he stepped into the anteroom gesturing for Aubrey to follow.

“I haven’t had a problem collecting specimens from him while he’s in human form. He doesn’t shift into dragon form often, though, so I haven’t been able to get any dragon specimens.”

Aubrey nodded, acknowledging that she had heard Robert, but she had a more pressing question to ask. “Uh, does he have a name? It’s a bit weird, you know. He looks like a man and all.”

Robert shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t asked him.”

Robert handed Aubrey the black bag as the blue lights dimmed. He motioned for the sample to move aside as the inner door slid open. The sample sneered at Robert, but moved aside, sitting in a cushioned chair a few hundred feet away. Robert and Aubrey followed him.

“First, the blood,” Robert said marking something on the clipboard.

Aubrey opened the bag, withdrawing a rubber band. She tied the band around the specimen’s bicep, watching the veins in his inner elbow bulge.

“Just keep it there,” she told him.

“He knows the process,” Robert said.

Aubrey didn’t answer. Somehow it made her feel better to lead the man through the process as if preparing him for it might help in some way. She withdrew a syringe and collection tube from the bag on the floor beside her. She attached the components and took the cap off the needle.

“This’ll only pinch a little,” she said, looking into the man’s eyes, expecting see a bored look. He had been through this. He was a tough guy. But what she saw in his amber and green eyes was not boredom. What she saw was fear. His jaw was clenched. His nostrils dilated. He stared straight back at her. He looked determined. He looked courageous. He looked strong. But the soul behind his eyes was terrified. She could sense it.

She paused. She couldn’t do it. She held the needle in midair.

“It’s okay,” the man said. “You have to. I understand.”

She didn’t move. Her brain told her she had to do this. She needed this job. If she were fired, she would never be able to work as a biologist again. Her father would make sure of that. But her heart screamed too. It told her not to do this, to drop the needle, to tell the world about the torture taking place in this cell. She wanted to quell this man’s fears.

“Do it,” he commanded softly between clenched teeth.

She obeyed, moving the needle to his arm, placing its tip on his vein. She pushed, glancing up into his eyes as she did so. His jaw remained set, his muscles remained stone-still, but she saw the screams of his soul in his eyes. Her own eyes watered. She looked back to his arm, removing the rubber band.  When the syringe was full, she extracted the needle and handed it to Robert who took the needle and sample and put it back into the bag before taking out a saliva swab kit.

Chapter Four

“You are attracted to me, yes?” the dragon man asked her the next day as she stroked the inside of his cheek with a swab. Aubrey’s hand jerked, the swab poking into his mouth.

“Ow,” he said, putting his hand to the outside of cheek. His eyes sparkled with humor, though.

Aubrey blushed as she looked down, clipping the end of the swab into a collection cup.

“You are attracted to me,” he said. “Why does that embarrass you?”

“What is your name?” she asked, changing the subject. She took another swab out of the black bag and began rubbing it up and down a one-inch section of his bicep.

“Zarek, but my question—”

“That’s a nice name. Zarek, I like that,” she cut him off. She was alone in a giant room with Zarek, and yes, she was attracted to him. Who wouldn’t be?

“Yes, but you haven’t answered—” he started again, his bicep muscle clenching as he leaned forward. Aubrey stopped swabbing.

“Sit still,” she said as she placed her hand on his chest, pushing him back, feeling his warm, soft skin, his firm, hard muscles, under her palm. She quickly withdrew her hand and picked up another collection jar.

When she had taken all the samples except a blood sample, she reached for the rubber band. His jaw tightened.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she wrapped the band around his bicep.

“I know,” he answered, looking into her eyes.

Aubrey took the needle out and attached the collection tube. Zarek didn’t flinch, though Aubrey detected the change in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. Her own soul felt sick at having to perform this test. “Why does it hurt so much?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, you’re big, and obviously strong, and it’s just a small needle prick, but each time I can see the pain in your eyes, in the way you clench your jaw—”

“It is very painful. It doesn’t hurt when your blood leaves your body?” he asked.

“Not really.” She held the needle up.

“My blood is part of me. It runs through all of me.”

“Mine too.”

“When you take my blood, you take a part of me.” Zarek held his hand up. “It’s like if you take my hand or my foot or my eye, but worse. My blood is a part of my whole body. My whole body hurts when you take any of my blood.”

Aubrey stared his hand, his foot, his eyes. Then, she stared at the needle. How could she do this to him? But what if she didn’t? She’d lose more than her career. She’d lose any access she had to this magnificent creature. She’d lose any chance at—at what? She looked into Zarek’s eyes again. Yes, she was attracted to him, incredibly attracted. Somehow the confession that she’d been causing him excruciating pain with every blood draw, as horrifying as it was, attracted her to him on a deeper level. She couldn’t do it to him anymore. She had to leave. No, she had to stay. She couldn’t get fired. She had to perform this test.

“I understand,” Zarek whispered.

“Understand what?” she asked.

“Take the blood,” he said as he raised his free hand and guided the needle to his vein.

She pushed the needle through his skin. She didn’t look up at his eyes this time, but somehow, she could feel the screams of his soul in her own body. They were a tingle at first then an electric current. She closed her eyes as the pain grew.

“It’s full,” he said hoarsely, pointing to the collection tube. She opened her eyes and extracted the needle, letting out her breath as she did so.

“How did you—Why could I feel that?” Aubrey asked, her breathing still quick and shallow.

“What is a career?” he asked.

“It’s like a job, but—”

“Who is your father?”

“Raymond Moss, the president of the company that runs this lab, but how did you—?”

“What is your name?”

“Dr. Moss,” she answered with a sigh.

“No, what is the rest of your name?”

“Aubrey,” she answered, giving up on her own question.

“Aubrey,” Zarek said, looking at her through eyes still heavy with pain. “Aubrey, everyone on this planet will be sorry when my people arrive.”

He reached up and brushed her jawline with his thumb. “It’s too bad, really. I’m growing fond of you. Still…”

“Still what, Zarek?” Aubrey stood, grabbing the handle of the now closed bag. She took a step back. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m sure your people told you my crew escaped?”

“Yes.” Aubrey took another step back.

“They will return soon. It’ll take them what you call two weeks at the most. If your people do not allow me to escape peacefully, your world will be destroyed along with everyone in it.”

Zarek stood. His amber eyes darkened. He walked to the far corner of the enclosure, a corner bathed in light-grey shadows. The shadows danced across his face, accentuated his sharp cheekbones and jawline. Aubrey swallowed.

“Come closer, Aubrey,” he said deeply.

Aubrey shook her head and took a few more backward steps toward the door.

“I won’t hurt you, Aubrey,” he said. “I just need to rest for a bit. You felt it. You know how that test hurts, how it weakens me. I just need to rest, but I want to tell you about everything. I want to tell you about my home, my people, my…please?”

Aubrey knew she shouldn’t do it. She knew she should run. She knew…but she felt drawn to the corner, to the shadows, to Zarek. Aubrey set the bag down and walked to the corner of the room where Zarek was now sitting cross-legged. His chest moved in and out. His eyes were closed.

“I find breathing to be quite useful when dealing with fear or pain,” he said. “You might try it sometime.”

Aubrey smiled at his jest despite herself. They both smiled, but only for a moment. Zarek’s face quickly sank. His eyes illustrated his immense burden once more.

“Sit,” he said, patting the ground in front of him.

She sat facing him.

“Five years ago,” he began, looking into her eyes, communicating the emotions of his words through the soul that rested behind them. She felt as if she, too were feeling his emotions, as if she had been there, as if she were a part of him then and now. “Five years ago, my planet was attacked by water-breathing dragons.”

As he spoke, she saw his people, the Plarizakians, as they rushed to their ships. She saw the Nefarianics as they spewed water on the deserts of his planets. She saw his father, mother, and brother die. She was snapped back to reality when Zarek brushed a finger under her eyes, wiping the tears from her burning cheeks.

“That is why we have come here,” he whispered. “The spot where we tried to land was just like our home planet. It was abandoned. There were no houses, no roads. We hoped we could live a quiet existence there. We meant to cause no harm to anyone. We just wanted a home. We just wanted peace, but now…”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered before covering her face. Her shoulders rose and fell as she sobbed. She was sorry, but she didn’t know what she could do.

“I know,” he said, putting his fingers under her chin, pulling her face up so her eyes met his. “I know you are.”

“I don’t know what I can do,” she said.

“Nothing,” he answered. “There’s nothing you can do. I understand. There’s nothing either of us can do except what we’re already doing.”

“I have to get back to work,” she said, rising and brushing off the seat of her pants. She wiped the remaining moisture from her face.

“Don’t forget to breathe,” he said as she walked away.

Chapter Five

“You’ll do fine,” Robert patted Aubrey on the shoulder as they headed for the conference room.

“We still haven’t got the dragon specimens,” she reminded him. She stuck her trembling hands into her pockets. They were about to enter the weekly briefing conference. They would have to face their failure. They would have to face her father.

All the chairs around the table were full except Robert’s. This time Robert didn’t offer his seat to her. She sat in the chair by the wall.

“What about the new sample?” her father asked from the head of the table. Aubrey looked up.

“We, uh, still haven’t—” Robert started.

“You mean to tell me,” her father’s face reddened, “that I have the top two biologists in the country, in the whole damn country, and neither one of them can get a sample?!”

Her father rose, circled the table, towered over Robert.

“We—it—” Robert shrank into his chair. Raymond Moss leaned down toward him, placing one beefy hand on the table, the other on the back of Robert’s chair.

“Why don’t I have the damned samples?!” her father yelled, his face almost purple.

“It’s her. She’s—” Robert stuttered. Raymond turned on his daughter, eyes narrowing. She stared back, horrified, humiliated. She had though Robert was her friend. Now, he was turning his back on her.

“What about her?” he asked, glaring at Aubrey.

“The samples she’s giving me,” Robert said more confidently, shuffling through a file, “are completely inadequate. She’s wasted a week’s worth of testing. See, the blood sample here is too small. This one must have sat too long before she put it in the refrigerator. She been in there every day this week, and she hasn’t been able to get any dragon samples at all.”

“I knew you’d blow it,” Aubrey’s father spat, his face inches from hers. She tried to breath, tried to still her trembling hands, tried to hold back the tears that burned her eyes. “You have one more chance. If you can’t do this, I will fire you. I will make sure you never work as a biologist again. Now, go!”

Aubrey bolted out the door and ran to the locker room. Once inside, she leaned over the sink. She breathed in. She breathed out. She closed her eyes.

Don’t blow it, her father’s voice echoed in her mind. Then, another man’s words came to her mind. There’s nothing either of us can do except what we’re already doing.

With that thought, Aubrey splashed cold water on her face before drying it on a paper towel. Then, she stood straight and walked out the door, heading for the labs.

Aubrey was still working at ten o’clock that night. She had tested all the animals scheduled for testing on the day shift as well as the night shift. She had told Jeff, the guy who usually fed the animals on the night shift, to go home. She’d finish up for him. She had already fed most of them. Now, she stood beside a metal work table reading off the numbers for Bob’s food tray.

“Two, four, one,” she whispered to herself, squinting at the sheet. She rubbed her eyes. She was absolutely exhausted and her vision was beginning to blur. “Two, four, is that a one or seven? One. Definitely one. Yup.”

She nodded and walked to the cart lined with metal drawers. She pulled out drawer number 241. It was Bob’s food—a mixing bowl full of red Jello. Aubrey walked to Bob’s tank. She set the bowl down on the floor and used both hands to push the buttons on the tank’s handgrip. The glass slid down just far enough to allow her to insert the bowl and dump its contents into the tank’s water. Bob jiggled as the Jello floated down. When the food finally touched Bob, he absorbed it into his gelatinous body. Aubrey raised the glass again, listening for the click that meant the pane was closed. She returned the bowl back to its drawer and moved on to the next creature.

“Two, six, zero,” Aubrey said out loud to herself, tapping a pen on the clipboard. She walked to drawer number 260 and opened it. It was the electric blue gorilla’s meal. So far, the only meal they had found for him was electric-fried rabbits. Aubrey cringed as she lifted the tray of crispy bunny flesh and fur.

She set the tray down on the floor before reaching to open the creature’s aquarium. This one opened from the bottom, its buttons an arm span apart. She pushed and lifted, hurrying before the creature could charge itself. She grabbed the tray, slid it under the glass, and slammed the pane shut. She didn’t hear the click, though. The animal inside was charging, pulses of current running through its hair. The air in the enclosure brightened. Aubrey reached to check the latch. She pulled up on the pane. The glass slid up an inch. The air grew brighter and brighter. She kept her eyes lowered, tried to slam the handgrip down. There was something in the way, though. The creature had jammed the food tray toward her, blocking her from closing the door. Without the soundproof glass between her and the creature, Aubrey heard the thunderous explosion as the creature released its electric charge.

But, Aubrey also heard another explosion, this one from behind her, coming from the circular hole in the floor, from Zarek’s enclosure. She heard glass shatter. She felt claws dig into her back. She felt herself being lifted into the air. A bolt of electricity reached her, even up there, and as she drifted into unconsciousness, she felt the heat of fire on her face.

Chapter Six

“Aubrey,” she heard her name being called through the haze of fog that separated her from full consciousness. She groaned, trying to open her eyes. “Aubrey, wake up.”

She groaned again, her eyes fluttering open this time. The room was flooded in blue, strobing lights. Thinking the blue was electricity, she shot up into a sitting position, sharp pains shooting through the top of her back. She covered her ears against the sirens that filled the air. Zarek wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. After a second, she pulled away, looking around the room. They were back in his enclosure, in the shadowy corner now lit by the strobing lights. She shifted around in his arms to survey the damage. Glass covered the center of the floor. There was a whole in the ceiling.

“It was you,” she whispered. “You saved me.”

He moved around her to look at her back. “I am sorry for the scratches. My talons aren’t exactly precision points, you know?”

She stood, walking toward the center of the room.

“Is it dead?” she asked, referring to the blue creature.

“Yes.”

She looked down, ashamed. She wished the beast didn’t have to die. It wasn’t his fault. He shouldn’t have been here. He shouldn’t have been caged. He shouldn’t have been captured at all. She thought of Zarek’s home planet. None of these creatures should have been there. They belong in their own homes, on their own planets, with their own families.

Zarek watched her as she thought. He approached her, putting his arm around her waist.

“It is not your fault,” he whispered into her ear. Several of her curls had fallen out of her ponytail. His words made the strands move, tickling her ear, sending chills down her neck, down her arms, down her back. She shivered. She had grown used to his nakedness, but suddenly it was different. She looked away from him, blushing.

“None of this is your fault,” he said. “I wish…”

He leaned closer, his warm breath tickling her ear again, her jaw, her neck. He drew back a little, his still smoldering eyes darkening.

“I wish…” he repeated, leaning in again, brushing his still hot lips over hers. She felt as if her lips would melt into his. She couldn’t help but kiss him back. She couldn’t help but push her lips farther into his. The tingling she had felt turned into a warm fire that spread downward, heating her core. He put the tips of his fingers on her neck, traced back to her ear, around her ear, down her cheek, then back to the side of her neck again. He started to pull away, but she wanted more. She pressed her lips against his again. He groaned, putting his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him, against his firmly muscled abdomen. He swiped his tongue against her lips parting them, tracing the sides of her tongue with the tip of his, then pulling his tongue out to trace her lips. She sighed. He groaned again, pulling her even closer. Then, he pulled away.

“I wish…” he repeated hoarsely, turning away.

She watched him as he faced the door to the aquarium. Then, she saw movement in the control room. Robert was watching them. She wondered how long he had been there. He scanned his ID badge and door opened. Her father entered the anteroom behind Robert. They simply stood in the anteroom, though, even after the blue lights stopped flashing.

What were they waiting for?

She soon found out what they were waiting for when the armed men dropped from ropes out of a hole in the ceiling. Once on the ground, the men pointed their guns at Zarek. Zarek held his hands up. Robert and Raymond entered the room. The military men inched closer and closer to Zarek, circling around him.

“Stop!” Aubrey shouted. None of the men responded to her. They didn’t even look toward her. “Don’t hurt him!”

Aubrey’s father hurried toward her. He grabbed her by the arm, digging his fingers into her skin.

“Shut up!” he commanded.

“But he didn’t do anything but save me!” she cried. “He saved me!”

“I said, shut up, Aubrey! Shut up!”

By then, he had dragged his daughter to the door of the control room.

“Please, don’t let them hurt Zarek!” she cried as he shoved her into the anteroom after Robert. He followed her in. She beat on the glass door as it shut, her father holding her back.

The men began beating Zarek. She watched as he knelt in front of them. They hit his shoulders, kicked his stomach, slammed the barrels and stocks of their guns against his back. She watched as he slumped to the ground, bleeding and bruised.

She tried to breathe slowly, like he taught her. If she had any chance, if Zarek had any chance, she would have to calm down enough to tell her father what was going on.

She took a few more breaths before beginning to explain. “Zarek and his people are a peaceful race. Their world was destroyed. They found an area in New Mexico where they thought they could settle. It’s a desert, just like their home planet. It’s abandoned. No one lives there. His people just wanted a place to settle. They don’t want to hurt anyone. The only reason Zarek escaped this room, the only reason he turned into a dragon and caused so much damage, was to save me from that beast upstairs.”

“And?” her father glared down at her.

“And, he saved me, your only daughter, from death,” she repeated, trying to hold her temper in check. A cold, hard truth hit Aubrey in that moment. She finally saw her father for what he was—a repulsive tyrant. She wanted to spit at him.

“A death that would have been completely your fault,” he stared into her eyes as he said this.

She couldn’t hold her temper any longer. “He saved your only daughter and you don’t give a shit. I know I’m not perfect. I never have been. I never will be. But, I’m your damned daughter. This man saved my life! You are the president of this company and you have the chance to save his life. If you are any kind of father, any kind of man, you will return his favor and spare his life.”

She had taken a step closer to him, had looked up into his face, had met his eyes. He stared back for a second before slapping her across the face. As she reeled backward, her father turned toward the military men and Zarek. Zarek, Aubrey noticed, had seen the blow. Zarek’s skin was starting to turn into green scales. His fingers were becoming talons.

“I knew you were going to blow it,” her father spat on the ground in front of her before scanning his ID and entering Zarek’s enclosure.

“Enough!” he yelled to the men. “We need to keep him alive. We still need samples.”

Aubrey saw Zarek start to lunge toward her father. He held himself back, though, forcing himself to breathe, forcing his scales to retreat back into his human form.

Chapter Seven

Surprisingly, Aubrey’s father didn’t fire her. He did, however, make sure she was assigned more tasks. She had been volunteering to stay late, but now, she was ordered to stay late. She was in charge of both the day and evening sample-collecting and feeding, as well as the cage-cleaning, a task that was usually performed by low-level interns. She, the leading female biologist in the country, was in charge of cleaning cages. Every day. Every evening. No weekends off. There was one advantage to this situation, though. She got to spend more time with Zarek. In fact, every night since the event, she had been staying past ten o’clock so she could linger in Zarek’s enclosure. Tonight, a week after the incident, was no different.

“Your wounds are healing quickly,” she observed, looking at the fading bruising on Zarek’s arms and the shrinking gouges on his chest and shoulders. They sat in their usual spot, the shady corner of Zarek’s aquarium, in their usual position, facing each other cross-legged. The enclosure had been repaired. The walls had been reinforced with extra layers of glass.

“Yours, too,” he said softly.

Aubrey looked at him quizzically.

“The ones on your back,” he clarified. “I sense less pain in you every day.”

“They are healing. You can sense my pain?” she asked. She had often sensed his pain, had even felt it occasionally, but she had been too embarrassed to tell him.

“Yes,” he answered her. “But the real question is, how do you sense my pain?”

Aubrey sat up straighter. “How did you know?”

“Parizakians can sense things in others. We can sense physical sensations and emotions. Humans can’t do this, correct?”

“Correct,” Aubrey answered. “Well, mostly correct. I mean, some humans have more empathy than others, but no, humans can’t sense anything with much intensity.”

“You sensed my pain when you put the needle in my vein.”

“Yes…”

“You saw my stories.”

“Yes…,” Aubrey answered. “But that’s not normal for a human.”

“Why does your father treat you so cruelly?” Zarek asked, showing that he sensed more than her physical pain.

“I don’t know,” Aubrey said, looking down at her hands.

“Come here,” Zarek held up his arm indicating for her to move beside him. She tentatively did so. She wasn’t afraid of him, but she was afraid of her feelings for him. She was beginning to feel more than lust, and that “more than lust” was also more than impossible. He was an alien creature, and if things worked out, and she hoped for his sake they did, he would be returning to his own people very soon.

Aubrey sat stiffly, but as Zarek began caressing her arm and nuzzling his head into her hair, she relaxed. She felt her body melting into his.

“I’ll make a deal,” Zarek said. “If you tell me about your father, I’ll tell you more about my planet.”

Aubrey smiled. She had grown to love hearing about his planet.

“Deal,” she said.

“My Mom died when I was little,” she explained mechanically, using the same words she had used to tell the story to every psychologist she had ever visited. “I lived with my grandparents for a while. They were Brazilian, like my mom. Then, my grandfather died. He had a heart attack. My grandmother was aging, too. She couldn’t take care of me anymore. I moved back to the States to live with my dad. I don’t know why he hates me.”

“Aubrey,” Zarek put his fingers under her chin, raising her head so he could look into her eyes. She wanted so badly to close the gap between their lips. “Aubrey, tell me something you haven’t told twenty other people.”

Zarek put his hand over her heart before he continued. “Tell me something that comes from here.”

Aubrey slowly let out the breath she had been holding. She looked down again. “I think my dad hates me because I’m not worthy to be my mother’s daughter. My mother was beautiful. I can still see her in my mind, her dark hair shining, sparkling as the sunlight streams from the open balcony doors behind her.”

Aubrey looked up at Zarek, tears in her eyes. “Zarek, she was so beautiful, so, so, beautiful, and I’m—”

“Just as beautiful,” Zarek cut her off with a whisper. “Aubrey, you are absolutely the most beautiful female I have ever seen.”

Zarek closed the distance between their lips, kissing away the tears that had made it down to her mouth. Then, he pulled away, kissing her tear trails up to her lower eyelids. He drew her in for a hug, rocking her and holding her for a few moments. Then, she pulled away, wiping at her face with her fingers.

“Your turn,” she said, trying to smile, “You promised.”

“Alright,” he said, clearing his throat. “My mother and father found each other early, even for Plarizakians. You see, we are born with mates, in a way. I believe the word is destiny. We each have a mate that is our destiny. There is a connection that we feel when we meet our destined mate. It is undeniable. We can feel our mate’s pain; we can sense their emotions, but it is more than that. When we feel the pain and emotions, we feel it as though the feelings are ours, too. It is like we are that person. Their experiences are our own. It is intense.”

“But—” Aubrey said, remembering how she had felt Zarek’s pain and experienced his memories as if they were all her own.

“Allow me to finish,” he said, laying back, pulling her down beside him. She nuzzled into his side. “Most Plarizakian mates meet in their teens, some as late as their twenties, but my parents met when they were four. They were always inseparable. They especially loved playing Claxianica.”

“What’s—?” Aubrey tried to ask.

“Shhh,” Zarek shushed her. “It’s a game we play while we’re in dragon form. It’s like juggling and baseball and basketball and acrobatics all in one. Anyway, they would always play this game, but as they grew older, my father’s friends would tease him for playing the game with a girl. No Claxianica team had a girl member then, but my mother was quite good at the game. So good that, other teams started picking up girl members. My dad was always so proud of her. He told us stories about their games all the time.”

“You said ‘us’,” Aubrey pointed out. “Were you talking about your brother, too?”

Zarek’s eyes went dark. His voice was deeper. “Yes, my brother. He was nine when the Nefarianics attacked. I tried to save him. I was leading him to the ship. I was trying to help him avoid the Nefarianics, but…I… I couldn’t save him. It was my fault.”

Aubrey rose enough to lean on her elbow. “Zarek, it wasn’t.”

Zarek looked down. “It was.”

“Oh, Zarek,” Aubrey whispered, leaning toward him. She kissed his lips. Then, she kissed along the cut of his jawline, and down his neck. He placed his hand firmly on the back of her neck, pulling her lips back to his and keeping them there.

“Don’t stop,” he whispered between kisses.

Aubrey didn’t stop. She pushed her lips harder into his, parting his lips with her tongue. She ran the tip of her tongue along the side of his, withdrawing it to trace his lips again. He leaned over, guiding her head to rest on his other arm, which was still on the ground. He pulled his lips away from her, tracing a path up her jaw to breathe lightly in her ear. He twisted a loose strand of her curly hair around his finger and traced her jugular firmly with his tongue, biting lightly on the base of her neck, sending shivers of pleasure through her.

“You are so, so beautiful,” he whispered hoarsely, looking up at her. She looked back into his heavy, sensually-darkened eyes.

“Zarek,” she whispered through lips that felt swollen. “You said mates sense each other as if they are the same.”

“Yes,” he answered, unbuttoning her dress shirt, pushing the cup of her bra down, and taking her breast in his hand, leaning down to trace the edges of her nipple with his tongue.

“But when I felt your pain and saw your memories, I felt as if they were mine,” she said.

“I know,” he said, taking her nipple between his lips. She gasped. Her back arched. She closed her eyes.

“But, does that mean,” she finally exhaled the words.

“Shhhh,” he said. She obeyed. She couldn’t speak, anyway. He pulled her shoes off as she sat to take off her top layers of clothing. When she was completely naked, he ran his hands down the length of her sides. His gaze followed his hands, a look of awe in his eyes. As he caressed her ribs, her waist, her full hips, her inner thighs, he looked at her as though she really was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. His kisses followed the center of her torso, down to her belly button, down to her abdomen, down to her hips. He pushed her legs apart, gently caressing her inner thighs with his thumb.

Aubrey breathed in sharply through her teeth, reaching down to lace  her fingers with his free hand as her hips moved up, wanting him. He stroked the fingers of his other hand farther up her thighs. His index finger caressed her lower lips, slick with her desire. Then, his tongue did the same. A molten heat shot through her core as his tongue caressed her small bud of nerve endings. She raised her hips against his tongue, entangling her fingers through his hair.

Finally, he slid his finger inside her. She released a low moan at the intense spike of pleasure. His tongue continued to circle her clit as his finger slowly caressed her vaginal walls by sliding in and out. His tongue flicked firmly, and she bucked against him. She couldn’t wait. She had to have him inside her—now. She tugged on his hand, trying to get him to rise. He obeyed, bringing his face near hers, nuzzling into her neck so he could kiss and lick and lightly bite.

Then, he entered her. His alien member was large, larger than a human male, but felt unbelievable—like nothing she’d experienced before. She cried out in ecstasy from the most intense pleasure she had ever felt.

“You are so beautiful,” his voice was thick and gruff, sex roughened. His incredibly hard shaft moved with short strokes, deeper and deeper inside her. She grasped his hips, feeling the muscles of his ass tighten and loosen with each stroke. Her hips rose and fell in perfect rhythm.

“You are so beautiful,” he repeated. Then, he added the word “mate.”

Aubrey gasped. Had he just said “mate”? Perhaps she wasn’t thinking straight. Her body was taking over her mind. The tingling in her core became waves of pleasure until, finally, the tension broke. Orgasmic waves rushed through Aubrey’s body. She exhaled, her eyes clenched shut, her head back. But the pleasure didn’t stop, Zarek kept moving in and out of her, throbbing inside her, her over-sensitized nerve endings picking up on each movement. Aubrey looked up at Zarek. He looked down at her, their gazes held, his dark hair slick with sweat, his eyes dark with pleasure. Suddenly, she felt his pleasure, too, and as he found his release, she came for the second time.

Chapter Eight

Aubrey hurried through her duties the next day. She couldn’t wait to get back down to visit Zarek. Finally, at ten o’clock that night, Aubrey entered the control room that led into Zarek’s enclosure, expecting him to be standing next to the door as he usually was. Zarek, though, was sitting in his shaded corner.

Aubrey scanned her badge and entered the anteroom, suddenly wondering if Zarek was regretting the events of the previous night. For her, being with Zarek had been the most intensely pleasurable experience of her life, but maybe the experience hadn’t been the same for him.

Was I that bad? Aubrey asked herself as the second door slid open.

Zarek remained in his corner, looking up only as she approached him. His arms were wrapped around his knees. There was no trace of joy in his eyes. In fact, he looked agitated.

“Zarek,” she asked him softly. She remained standing. “Are you okay?”

“They are coming,” he said.

“Who’s coming?”

“My people. They are close. I can feel it.” Finally, he stood, his six-foot frame towering over her. She took a step back.

“But—” she stopped herself, not knowing what to say. What could she say? That she wanted him to stay? That she wanted him to live in a cage for the rest of his life just so she could have the pleasure of being with him? No. She didn’t want that for him.

Zarek took a step forward. Aubrey flinched.

“Aubrey,” he whispered, looking at her. His eyes cleared as if he were seeing her for the first time since she had entered the room. She ”ried to relax as he approached her. He put his arms around her, drawing her toward him.

“What about—” she started, paused, then started again. “What about us?”

“I don’t know Aubrey,” he said, his cheek resting on her head. “I don’t know.”

Aubrey clenched her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry.

“Except,” he pulled away from her, still holding onto her shoulders. “There might be a way, but…”

“But what?” Aubrey asked pleadingly. If there was a way she would take it.

“My people won’t take prisoners. They will kill anyone who stands in the way of rescuing me. But, if you don’t stand in their way, if you helped me...

“I could, perhaps, talk to them,” he continued, “Maybe there would be a way for us. I don’t know, but it is worth a try. Anything is worth a try. Aubrey, I want to be with you. Help me escape. Meet me here at midnight tomorrow night. Don’t come before then.”

“Why?” Was he trying to trick her? Did he want to get a chance to escape before midnight, before she knew where he was going? Was he trying to escape from this building, this planet, as well as from… her?

Aubrey thought. She had worked so hard to be here. What if Zarek did escape? What if they couldn’t be together? Worse, what if he was just using her to escape? Not only would her career be ruined, she would be ruined. She didn’t know if her spirit could survive that kind of devastation. But, what choice did she have? She couldn’t allow him to live in a cage.

What if he was the man she thought he was? Hoped he was.

Regardless, he deserved freedom, whether or not she had a chance of being with him outside the confines of this lab, he deserved freedom. Still, she was scared.

“Fine,” she said, looking down.

“What?” he asked as if he hadn’t expected her to agree.

“I’ll do it,” she said, looking up into his eyes again. Once again, she was unsure of the thoughts his eyes held. Did he care about her? She looked down at her own body. She looked at his body. How could he?

But what if he did? Her body tensed. She had to get out of here. She had to think without him right in front of her. She would help him, but she had to prepare herself for—for the worst.

“You don’t believe I want to be with you, do you?” he asked her, lifting her chin up. She couldn’t look at him, though.

“It doesn’t matter,” she answered. “I’ll help you anyway.”

“It matters. It matters to me. I want to be with you,” he said. “I love you, Aubrey Moss.”

As much as she had been looking forward to this moment, she couldn’t say the words back. She couldn’t let herself say the words back. She wasn’t ready to let herself believe him. Instead of speaking, she leaned up, kissed him for what might have been the last time, and turned around, exiting into the anteroom, into the control room, and up the stairs. She didn’t look back.

Chapter Nine

Aubrey waited, her legs shaking, her hands trembling. It was ten minutes before midnight. The fate of her life, of her love, was on the line, and all she could do was wait. She couldn’t stand it any longer. She rose from her chair in the Earth-animal lab. She walked through the extra-terrestrial creature lab, looking down into Zarek’s enclosure but seeing nothing in the spot that the circular viewing area covered. She kept moving, swiping her ID badge near the far door that led to the stairs. She swiped her ID badge again at the control-room door. Two men stood at the control panels. They were pushing buttons and turning levers.

“Maybe it’s this one,” of the men said, reaching for a button on the side of the control panel.

“No!” Aubrey shouted, lunging toward him to try to grab his arm.

The men turned. Jandric grabbed her wrists as Virlek put his arm around her neck, his forearm against her windpipe.

Aubrey choked, trying to speak. Talons began growing out of Jandic’s fingers. He raised his hand back, about to strike Aubrey across her face, about to tear her apart, ending her.

Then, the glass doors and observation windows that led into Zarek’s enclosure shattered, the glass flying into the control room. A piece caught Aubrey’s cheek. Another piece caught Virlek’s wrist. He released his hold on Aubrey. Sirens blared.

“Not her!” Zarek growled over the noise. He stood in front of them as he transformed back into his human. “Not her!”

“They’ll be coming now!” Aubrey screamed, running into the enclosure, looking up at the glass so she could see upstairs. “They’re here.”

She watched Jandric, Virlek, and Zarek transform into huge dragons, even as they exited the chamber and climbed the stairs.

“I have the key,” she shouted, running to keep up. They let her squeeze by, but crowded past her as the upstairs lab door opened. The men finished transforming as they walked through the second door and into the large lab. She heard the pellet sounds of gunfire. She heard the woosh of fire as it escaped the dragons’ lungs. Breaking glass and clattering metal. She peeked around the door in time to see Jandric strike a soldier. The man, his face torn to shreds, fell over the metal railing, landing with a thud on top of Zarek’s enclosure. Aubrey screamed as a soldier pointed his gun up toward Zarek’s tender throat. Virlek followed her gaze, saw that his friend was in trouble, and lunged for the soldier. The soldier’s body followed his comrade’s, landing on the glass of the lower enclosure.

The soldier hadn’t fallen before his shot hit Zarek, though. The massive dragon fell to the ground. More soldiers fired at him, though many of the bullets were deflected by Zarek’s scales. As he lost consciousness, Zarek’s body began transforming back into a man’s body. Aubrey whimpered. Jandric and Virlek tried to help their fallen friend, but they were busy struggling with their own attackers. The soldiers’ attention on Zarek seemed to fade after he transformed. Instead, the soldiers concentrated on the larger threats—the dragons.

Aubrey lowered herself to her hands and knees and crawled to Zarek. If she could just get him through the door, he would be safe, at least for a little while. No one else in the building had authorization to pass through that door. She tugged at his foot, then his arm, but she couldn’t drag him on her own.

“Wake up, Zarek,” she said as she shook his shoulders. She touched his face. His eyes opened. “I need your help.”

He groaned, but began to stir. She looked down at his neck. He hadn’t been shot in the neck. The bullet had entered in his shoulder. Another had entered in his arm. She looked down. He had been shot in the leg, too.

“We need to get you to that door,” she pointed. He nodded, pushing himself up with his healthy arm. She put his healthy arm around her shoulder, but he cried out in pain as his chest muscles tightened, tugging on the wound on his other shoulder. She cringed. “We have to hurry.”

He nodded again, leaning against her and hobbling toward the door, gushes of blood seeping from his leg wound with every step. Finally, they got to the door. He collapsed as they exited the anteroom.

“I’ll be right back,” she told him, running down the stairs.

When she came back upstairs, she found that Zarek had lost consciousness again. Beads of sweat coated his body, he felt cold and clammy. He was going into shock. She did the only thing she knew to do. She began working on his wounds, wondering what was going on in the other room, hoping the man she loved would survive his own rescue.

It would be better to lose him to freedom, she thought, than to death.

Chapter Ten

As Aubrey tended to Zarek’s wounds, wiping away the blood, digging for the bullets, sewing the torn flesh back together, she realized the wounds weren’t as bad as she had thought. The bullets hadn’t penetrated deeply. The skin wasn’t torn as badly as she’d first suspected. Actually, the wounds seemed to be getting better as she tended to them.

Must be the dragon skin and scales, she guessed as she sewed up the last hole.

Still, his body was in shock. But, they didn’t have time for shock. There was still a war raging on the other side of the door, and even if his friends won this battle, there were sure to be military reinforcements on their way. No, none of them had time for shock. What could she do?

Aubrey took the smelling salts out of her bag, cracked one open, and held it under Zarek’s nose.

Zarek’s nose scrunched. His eyes open. He pushed the salts away.

“What is that?” he asked. “That is repulsive.”

“And that is the point,” Aubrey answered, a grin spreading across her face. “It’s smelling salts. We use them to wake people up after they have lost consciousness.”

“Lost—” Zarek suddenly sat up, flinching as he did so. “I lost consciousness? How long? Where are Jandric and Virlek?”

Zarek reached for his now dressing-covered wounds.

“We’ve haven’t been in here for more than fifteen minutes or so.”

Zarek stood. He flinched a little as he stepped on his wounded leg, but he didn’t favor it much. He touched the door with his palms, resting his cheek against the metal. He closed his eyes.

Finally, he looked back at her. “Not good. There are so many casualties, so many wounded, so much blood.”

Zarek shook his head. “We must get out of here. The rest of my people are waiting in Virginia.”

“Virginia? Where in Virginia?”

Zarek shook his head again. “I don’t know the name of the place. I can sense them, though.”

“How did you know it’s Virginia, then?”

“My people saw a large sign. This other place does not have a large sign.”

“Great,” Aubrey deadpanned. “A town in Virginia without a large sign.”

“Yes,” Zarek agreed in all seriousness.

Aubrey knew her priority should only be getting Zarek to safety, but she couldn’t keep her own feelings entirely subdued. She didn’t want to have to say goodbye to him. She didn’t want him to leave her.

“Zarek,” she asked softly. “What if they don’t accept me? Can’t you just stay here with me? We could go somewhere where no one would find us. We could—”

Zarek turned to face her. He put his arms around her, pulling her to him.

“No, we could not,” Zarek said sadly. “We could never get away from these people. We would be hunted for the rest of our lives until they found us, you know that.”

Zarek pulled back, still holding her shoulders but now looking into her eyes. “My people will accept you. Will you come with me? Please?”

“Yes,” she answered him in less than a second. What did she have to lose, now? Not nearly as much as she had to gain. She smiled. “Yes, I will come with you.”

“I don’t know how we’re going to get out of here, though.” Aubrey said, pulling away from him and starting to walk towards the door. Zarek held onto her arm.

“We must wait,” Zarek told her. “Jandric and Virlek need a little more time to clear a path for us—a half of an hour maybe.”

Aubrey sighed. She didn’t know if she could wait that long. Adrenalin was still pumping through her veins. She’d have a hard time waiting just ten minutes. Zarek took a step toward her. He winced again when he stepped down with his wounded leg. She should check his wounds again. They would have a long ride ahead of them when they got out of here.

“Sit down,” she told him. “I want to check the wounds again.”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Please,” she replied. “I’m not good at waiting. Plus, I really should check those again, just to be sure.”

Zarek sat, but realizing she couldn’t get to the wounds with him in that position, she nudged him down all the way. She peeled back the dressing on his leg wound. It was seeping blood, but not much, it looked as though it was healing unusually fast- by human standards, anyway. So, she just changed the gauze. She repeated the routine for his arm and shoulder. The entire process took only five minutes. They still had twenty-five minutes to wait.

She looked down at her handiwork, but found that she couldn’t keep her eyes on the gauze. Zarek was still naked, and even though a battle raged on the other side of the door, even though she knew they would have to be ready to bolt through the lab and find a way to get to Virginia, she was suddenly and acutely aware off his perfectly-sculpted, heavily-muscled naked body. She inhaled. Reached down, she tracing his pec muscles with the tips of her fingers. She did love him, even if she hadn’t said it aloud, she hoped he could sense it.

Zarek reached up, tucking the loose strands of her hair behind her ear. He traced the ridges of that ear. Then, he traced the lobes. He caressed the hollow behind her ear. Her eyes fluttered closed as he put his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her down toward him.

What was she doing? Seducing him while a battle was being fought, while people were dying only yards away? Yes. Yes, she was, because what if they didn’t make it out of here? What if they died? She knew exactly how she wanted to spend the last minutes of her life. She willingly pressed her lips to his.

He pushed the lapels of her blazer back. She shrugged her blazer off as his fingers worked to unbutton her dress shirt, exposing her bra. He leaned up, but flinched as he put weight on his shoulder.

“Let me do the work this time,” she whispered, reaching back to unhook her bra before standing and stripping off her shoes, her pants, and her underwear. As she stood above him, she looked down at his eyes. He was hungrily watching her every movement. His amber and green eyes traced over every inch of her body as his fingers and tongue had done a few nights before. Never had she felt so desired, and she reveled in it.

Aubrey leaned back down, running her lips, her tongue and her teeth over Zarek’s lips, then his jawline, then his neck, his chest, his abdomen. She was keenly aware that their time was limited, but she wanted to savor every inch of him. What if this was their last chance to be together? She pushed that thought from her mind, trying to concentrate on the moment- on being present for every second of pleasure with this man… dragon… beast… alien creature.

She kissed his rippled abdomen, using her tongue to trace the v that ran down to his erection. She ran her tongue up the large vein on the underside of his length. He shuddered. His erection responded by tightening and growing even more. She took the tip in her mouth, using her tongue and cheeks to moisten it. Then, she slowly took more and more of him into her mouth, sliding up and down on his shaft each time she took him deeper. He groaned, his hips lifting, wanting more of her.

Aubrey rose, quickly kissing her way back up to his face. She rolled on top of him, caressed his shaft with her female juices, sliding back and forth, teasingly. As she bent to kiss him again, he grasped her hips and thrust into her warm, wet channel as far as she could take him. She moaned, her insides stretching in sudden, intense pleasure. They didn’t have time to prolong the pleasure, and she was already so close to climaxing, and from the sound of his breathing, so was he. He thrust his hips up and down in controlled, firm strokes. She sat up, matching his pace, bracing her hands on his abdomen.

He opened his eyes, and she met his gaze. Again, she saw his pleasure, felt his pleasure. She no longer had any doubt that he wanted to be with her as much as she wanted him. She had no doubt that he wanted her to escape with him. The knowledge made her tighten even more, clutching at him, tingles shooting through her nerve endings. She slid up and down, then wiggled forward and backward. She tried to keep her eyes open. She wanted to sense his pleasure, but her own was overwhelming her. She closed her eyes, expecting the shared pleasure to disappear, but it didn’t. She could sense him without even looking at him.

“Yes,” he said. “We can feel it without looking. You are so beautiful, my mate.”

That was more than she could handle. The waves of pleasure turned into a bursting climax. She wanted to shout out at the intensity of it. Then, when he began to release his seed in her, she did holler, his loud groans mixing with her cries of pleasure. Even afterward, she didn’t want him to stop. He didn’t want to stop, either. He kept moving up and down.

“We don’t have time,” she finally managed to whisper.

“I know,” he replied, moving a few times before opening his eyes. “But we will. We will have all the time we want very soon.” His hand caressed her cheek. “I promise.”

Chapter Eleven

“It’s time,” Zarek said. He stood with his hands against the door. Having been reminded of Zarek’s nakedness, Aubrey had retrieved an outfit from Robert’s locker in the control room. Needless to say, the clothes did not fit Zarek well. He had barely been able to pull the pants over his bulging thigh muscles and they rose about four inches above his ankles. The shirt was entirely too tight and gaped between the buttons, occasionally sliding up to expose his bellybutton. The shoes hadn’t worked at all, so Zarek was still barefoot.

Aubrey nodded, confirming she had heard Zarek. She scanned her ID badge in the slot near the door. When the second door slid open, it revealed a macabre scene. Bloody, torn, scorched, dead military men were slumped on the floor. Some bodies were draped over the railing. Other bodies were piled on the glass at the bottom of the opening in the center of the room.

“Jandric and Virlek aren’t here,” Zarek said, looking around as he jogged to the other side of the lab.

Aubrey and Zarek didn’t meet with any resistance as they made their way to the elevator. They didn’t meet with any resistance in the lobby, either. The entire building was eerily silent and empty. The security stations and reception areas were abandoned, their screens black. Jandric and Virlek had certainly cleared the way, but that wouldn’t last long.

“We can’t take my car,” Aubrey suddenly realized. “They’ll be looking for it.”

She stopped at the valet station, opening the cubby that held the keys. The keys hung on pegs, each peg labeled with a lot number. She chose a key to a car that was parked near the entrance of the parking garage. Fortunately, she had chosen well. The compact, silver Honda had a full tank of gas that should be  adequate to get them to their rendezvous destination.

Over four hours later, they arrived at the edge of a forest leading to the meeting spot. Aubrey parked the Honda on the side of a dirt road. She didn’t know if there were any access roads into the forest, so they would have to walk.

Aubrey and Zarek walked as quickly as they could through the trees and undergrowth. Finally, they arrived at a clearing. Aubrey froze, staring at the enormous ship. Its triangular running lights looked as though they were made of a kind of gelatinous substance from what Aubrey could surmise. They emitted a pulsing, green glow. The ship, too, was triangular. A door was open under the bulky ship, and a ladder hung from the door to the ground. Two men stood at the bottom of the ladder. Aubrey, still frozen in wonderment, stood still as Zarek ran to Virlek and Jandric, embracing them each in turn. Zarek motioned for Aubrey to join them.

“The others are waiting for us,” Aubrey heard Jandric say as she approached. “They know about your mate. They’re waiting to meet her, too. They are very grateful, Aubrey. We all are.”

Aubrey smiled and was about to say something in return, but she saw movement in a corner of the clearing. Pairs of headlights, one after another until there were hundreds, were making their way into the clearing, surrounding the ship.

The Plarizakians started toward the door of the ship, but the vehicles were too quick. A large SUV speedily approached the small group. Military men climbed out from the back seat and hatch section. A tall, rotund man stepped down from the passenger seat.

The man was Raymond Moss, Aubrey’s father.

“Kill them all,” he said. He looked straight into his daughter’s eyes when he repeated, “All of them.”

Aubrey watched as her father spoke, unable to believe that even a man as cold-hearted and cruel as her father could utter such words.

“Get behind me!” Zarek hollered to her. Aubrey turned and ran behind the transforming dragons. She watched as Zarek shifted into a green dragon with thick scales and leathery wings. His majesty, even under these circumstances, was awe-inspiring. A rush of fire shot out from somewhere in front of her. She watched as Jandric, now a thick, stocky black dragon, spewed fire on the military men. Virlek, too had transformed, and was hovering above the enemy, reigning down torrents of fire, his dark blue body darting back and forth in the air. Zarek remained on the ground, fighting in front of Aubrey, trying to protect his mate.

The military men wasted no time firing their own rounds on the dragons, but most of the bullets simply ricocheted off the dragons’ scales and back toward the soldiers. One hit Zarek’s scales at an angle, though, and instead of flying back toward where it had come from, the bullet bounced and slid over Zarek’s scales. It made a path straight for Aubrey, lodging itself into her chest.

Aubrey felt searing pain. A moment later, she heard a gut-wrenching dragon-scream, and within the next few seconds she slipped into blackness.

Chapter Twelve

Aubrey’s eyes fluttered open. She tried to open them completely, but the white light was too bright and her head hurt.

Am I dead? she wondered.

“Where am I?” she asked aloud, her voice emerging in a dry croak.

“Shhhh,” she heard a female voice hush her.

“Where am I?” Aubrey repeated, louder this time.

“Hush,” the voice said again. “You need rest.”

“Where is Zarek?” she asked, finally forcing herself to open her eyes. All she could see was white light. It burned her eyes and she squinted, but she kept them open. The woman didn’t answer this time.

“Where is Zarek?” Aubrey repeated, the volume and pitch of her voice rising. “Where is he?” What if he was hurt? What if they killed him?

Aubrey tried to sit, but a woman approached her and pushed down on her shoulder.

“You really need to rest.” The woman wore a white coat. Aubrey guessed she was a nurse or doctor.

“Tell me where Zarek is. I’ll rest when you tell me that.” Aubrey’s anger was rising. She tried to push against the woman’s hand, tried to sit up despite her wound. She flinched as her chest muscles tightened. Still, she kept trying to sit up.

Aubrey heard a door open. The door seemed to appear out of thin air.

What kind of hospital is this? Aubrey wondered.

The figure in the doorway was just a dark outline at first. Then, the shadow stepped in and the door closed. Aubrey tried to focus her eyes on the figure, but had a hard time making out its features. Then, the figure took a few steps forward.

Zarek.

Aubrey tried even harder to sit up.

“Careful, mate,” Zarek’s deep, wonderful voice reached her from across the room. “You need rest.”

Aubrey stopped struggling. She laid her head back on the pillow.

“I’ll watch over her for a bit,” Zarek told the nurse. The woman nodded and exited through the door Zarek had used to enter.

Zarek held Aubrey’s hand. He bent to kiss her. The feeling of his hand on hers, of his lips on her lips, calmed her more than anything else possibly could have.

“Where am I?” she asked.

“You’re on a hospital ship,” he said. “Virlek, Jandric, and I brought you here as soon as we left Earth. They say you’ll have to stay for a few weeks, so we docked my ship in a bay for now. We’ll stay with you as long as you’re here. Then, when you’re healed, we’ll head back to lead the caravan. My people have found a completely unsettled planet. We’ll colonize it. We’ll have a home.”

Zarek paused before continuing. He looked into Aubrey’s eyes. “You’ll have what you have never had the pleasure of experiencing. We’ll start a family.”

“I would really, really like that, Zarek,” she responded, smiling from ear to ear.

“I know,” he said his face breaking into a grin to rival her own, “So would I.”

He bent down to kiss her, and she was overwhelmed with a feeling of contentment.

“I can’t wait to get started on making that family,” he grinned, pulling away. “but, you need to heal first.”

She sighed in disappointment.

“Awww, am I healed yet?” she asked, smiling.

“I wish,” Zarek said, his bulging hardness apparent under his uniform pants.

THE END

Want to read more? This is book 1 in a two-book set. Book 2, Virlek, can be found in Amazon’s Kindle store.

OFFICER BEAR

STORY DESCRIPTION

Major Chad Matthews is a soldier's soldier.

He’s made a name for himself in the Air Force by doing things better, faster, and with more confidence than the next soldier.

It hasn’t always been easy for him to hide the fact that he’s a bear shifter, but he’d managed.

When he was assigned to teach survival skills at the Air Force Academy, he had no plans to change his staunch, uncompromising approach to life and to his career.

No plans at all.

So, when the tough and sexy Doctor Brenna Thiel is placed as his medical consult, the sparks immediately begin to fly.

And not the good kind.

He thinks she's unreasonable and inexperienced, she thinks he's arrogant and impossible.

Neither one suspects they'll fall for the other.

Neither one could have been more wrong...

CHAPTER 1

Brenna

I was under no illusions about my new colleague

When I heard I’d be working with Chad Matthews, I knew exactly what to expect. I’d heard the stories. I knew dozens of men like him during my military career.

I’m not saying all military men are arrogant assholes— not by a long shot. And I’m not saying I don’t know any good ones. I do. A lot of them.

All I am saying is that Chad Matthews isn’t one of them, and I was dreading every minute of working with him. No ifs, ands, or buts.

That being said, it didn’t matter what I felt about it. My assignment was my assignment. As a relatively new medical school graduate and a Captain in the U.S. Airforce, I didn’t have a lot of sway with the higher ups.

So, I was stuck being the medical advisor for the survival training class.

I had nothing against the cadets needing to learn survival techniques. It wasn’t that long ago that I’d done my own training — it was a required component. What I wasn’t crazy about was getting stuck with a job no one wanted simply because I was the new face on the block.

The reason no one wanted the job was because the bulk of the program would take place in the foothills of the mountain during the hottest, driest, part of the season. No one in their right mind wanted to be outside roughing it then.

The reality was, though, I could be as unhappy about it as I wanted — it wasn’t going to change a damn thing.

Chad

It was good to be back in the States.

Not that I minded the long deployments. Not really. They kept me on my toes.

Kept me in touch with that part of me I always had to curb. That part that was always hungry for something just beyond my reach. And, it managed to keep me in check, too. Always there, right under the surface, ready to come to the forefront in a moment of need.

But coming home was nice, too. Especially, after the recognition I’d received for my most recent tour, and with the cushy interim assignment I’d been given at the Academy, where I would be teaching the thing I loved the most.

Survival.

Skills.

The things the cadets would need to know if their plane went down and they were on their own in the middle of nowhere.

It could happen to anyone, no matter how much experience you had or how good you were. It happened every damn day. And if I was the one to give these men and women the knowledge that could save their lives, you better believe I was going to take pride in giving it.

I would have liked it better if I could go at the job alone, without a medical advisor. That was just how I was — a lone wolf, so to speak. And I didn’t need someone else there telling me things I already knew.

I’d done my best to have her position removed, but apparently a medical doctor was required while doing ongoing survival simulations.

Something about unexpected catastrophic injuries and negative experiences in the past.

I argued that I could triage with the best of them and that it was almost the same thing as having a doctor on site, but that hadn’t changed the final verdict.

Overruled.

I was stuck working with a newbie doctor. Zero combat experience. Fresh out of med school. A woman with literally no experience surviving anything other than midterms and boards.

I couldn’t wait to hear all her “expert” advise. It was bound to be six weeks of pure torture.

So far I’d been able to avoid coming face to face with her, though she had been pointed out to me once in a near miss, dressed for PT with her dark hair up in a ponytail.

I hadn’t paid much attention to her beyond that. And I figured I would have my fill of her soon enough, so no need to rush anything.

I was in the middle of praising myself for my ability to skulk around the campus without having had to engage in any kind of conversation with my soon-to-be-coworker when I heard the sound of a clearing throat behind me.

I knew who it was immediately, even before I turned to see her standing in the doorway, and it served me right for getting all cocky about having avoided her.

Damn if she didn’t smell sweet and fresh, like a garden in bloom right after a heavy rain, and I resented that fact immediately. I didn’t want to have to be reminded of her femininity, how far removed she was from the reality of the survival course out in the field.

“Major Matthews?” she asked, and I equally resented the sound of her voice, husky, sure, and no-nonsense.

I frowned. This was absolutely not what I needed.

“Yes?” I asked, not at all hiding my impatience.

“Dr. Brenna Thiel,” she said, giving a little acknowledgement of my seniority with the dip of her head before thrusting her hand out toward me and waiting for me to take it.

I did. I didn’t want to. But, as our working relationship was going to be difficult enough already — I didn’t need to make it more awkward by leaving her hanging.

“I’ve been assigned as your medical consult,” she said. Her voice told me that she was about as thrilled with the idea of working with me as I was her.

“Correct,” I said, as though she’d asked me a question instead of stating a fact.

It didn’t faze her. “Classes begin next week and I was wondering if you wanted to discuss the medical histories of your cadets and the best way to structure the program —”

I cut her off. I didn’t need to hear any more of her pitch. “That won’t be necessary.”

“I would have preferred to do it earlier, but you’ve proven difficult to get ahold of.”

I suspect that was her code for unresponsive and refusing to return her emails or phone calls. “I have the program outlined just the way I want it. It’s proven and effective and I don’t feel it needs alteration in any way. Additionally, the medical backgrounds of the cadets will, in no way, play into the course.”

I could see her glowering, the corners of her mouth turned downward, and I couldn’t help but wonder how those lips might look if she weren’t glaring at me.

I had to rein myself in. It was apparent I was still adjusting to being home after the deployment. If this conversation was any indication I needed to get out and spend some time at the bars, maybe meet a pretty thing I wasn’t going to hate spending time with.

Maybe then I would stop studying the doctor like she was a woman I might want to take home. Maybe then I would stop noticing exactly how her voice rasped against my skin and the way sweet fresh way she smelled. Like wildflowers.

“Well,” she snipped. “I’m not entirely sure why you even have a consult and advisor on the team if you’re refusing to take any suggestions or input.”

I tried not to notice how her hands fit on her hips, or the way her uniform swelled over her curves.

All of that fell directly under the category of things I should, most definitely, not be paying any attention to at all.

“To be entirely honest, Captain, that makes two of us. I specifically requested several times to work the course alone and was denied repeatedly. It looks as though you and I are just going to have to make the best of the situation and accept the fact that neither of us will be enjoying our time together.”

“That certainly is what it looks like,” she said, before turning on her heel and storming away from me.

I couldn’t help watching her go.

And enjoying every second of it.

CHAPTER 2

Brenna

He was exactly how I thought he’d be.

Worse, actually.

An infuriating, frustrating ass. Yes, a total ass. A misogynistic, selfish, arrogant, ass.

I wanted absolutely nothing to do with him.

Yet, I would be forced to see him daily. It would be imperative that we kept ourselves in check around the cadets. They didn’t need to see their superiors arguing. It set a bad precedent and I didn’t want to be responsible for setting free on the military an entire group of people just like Matthews.

God knows, one of him was more than enough.

I thought a run would help ease the hostility I was feeling, but in the end, when I stopped to catch my breath, hands on my hips, dripping sweat in the summer heat, it was worse than it had been when I started. After a quick shower, what I really needed was a drink.

It was good to wear something other than my issued clothes, but anything fancy was out of place for midweek at a local bar. Especially one where the food was barely passable and the liquor was watered down.

Not that I was going to enjoy it any less because of those things. That was exactly what I needed.

I pulled on my favorite pair of blue jeans and a cream colored tank top. I liked it because the color made me look more tan than I actually was. Not that it was going to matter once I was seated in the dimly lit bar, where most of the lighting came from neon lights advertising cheap beer.

A swipe of lip gloss and that was as good as it was going to get tonight. Flip flops, my bag, and my military I.D. and I was out the door.

I drove myself. Partly because I didn’t want to subject myself to any more physical activity in the heat, but mostly because it would be a good way to keep my drinking in check. I did not need to get hammered the week before classes started. I wasn’t the young thing I’d once been, and my recovery periods could now extend beyond 12 hours.

Way more.

The things you miss about youth.

Evening was just beginning to settle, the sky moving from blue to grey and into that pretty husky limbo between day and night. I found a parking spot and headed in.

I’d picked the bar I thought would be the least likely to attract anyone I knew. I didn’t want to hit the O Club and risk having to run into someone I’d need to have a civil, intelligent conversation with.

Not tonight. Tonight I just wanted the chance to be sullen and enjoy a drink.

I found a spot at the bar and ordered from the bartender, a good looking man in a tight shirt. Hmm, if I played my cards right, maybe I wouldn’t need to drive myself home after all.

He returned with my vodka and asked my name, but it turned out I wasn’t in as much of a mood to flirt as I thought.

I didn’t have the energy to keep a conversation with him going, and when he disappeared to take someone else’s order, he wasn’t eager to return to me.

So much for playing my cards right.

Chad

I pushed the door open. God, I needed a drink.

I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, and it was pissing me off.

Everything about her had been irritating. The way she’d assumed she had some sort of expertise that she could provide me with. Even if I hadn’t been her senior, I would have been damn insulted by that. Didn’t she have any knowledge at all about my background and career?

Irritating didn’t even begin to describe it.

The bar was just what I needed. The heavy smell of smoke lingering in the air, the haze that came with people looking to get away, to forget who they were and where they were coming from.

Desperation, I suppose some people might call it.

But, I call it relaxation.

There was a brunette at the bar, her long hair tumbled down her back, the smooth skin of her back and shoulders mostly exposed. The scrap of a tank top she wore barely hid a tattoo that peeked out by her shoulder blade and then again just above the waist of her pants.

That was what I needed. I tried not to notice the incredible shape of her ass in those jeans on that stool.

I was moving toward her, intent on buying myself a drink and on buying her a drink too, I hoped. I needed to ease some of the frustration I’d been feeling since that encounter with Doc Thiel that morning.

Shit. I immediately resented the fact that I was thinking about her right now, right when I was in the midst of escaping her.

At first, I attributed that faint smell of wildflowers and sunshine to the unwanted memory of her. Until I sat down next to the woman at the bar, deliberately brushing up against her just enough so she might turn my way.

Fuck. It’s her.

The woman I’d spent an entire day stewing over.

The woman I had come here to forget about.

The woman whose ass I’d been eyeing the whole way across the bar.

Dr. Brenna Thiel, herself.

I stared blankly at her for a moment, unable to process the fact that moments before I’d been contemplating how I might take her home, peel the clothes off of her, and inspect that tattoo up close and personal.

Apparently, I didn’t recover quickly enough, because I watched her eyes narrow, her full mouth twisting down into a frown.

“Major,” she said in what I suppose was meant to pass as a strangled greeting.

“Doctor,” I said in return, knowing that the omission of her military rank was going to eek a rise out of her.

And liking the flash of heat and fire I saw snap in her eyes.

Damn. The woman was infuriating.

But, even knowing it was Brenna Thiel did nothing to mitigate the throb of desire I was feeling for her, the urge to run my hands through that hair and pull that killer body of hers close to mine.

I was going to need a double shot.

Silence stretched between us, and I was wondering if I should relocate, or even leave the bar altogether and just consider this night a failure when she sighed and began to talk.

“Listen,” she said, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear so I got an uninhibited view of the delicate shell of her ear, a series of little silver hoops through the lobe.

I tried to ignore pangs of desire that shot through me.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’d like to start over with you. Whether we agree on things or not, we are going to have to work together, and I think it will be in our best interest and in the best interest of our cadets to display civility and respect towards one another despite our different views.”

My eyebrow arched upward.

That was certainly not what I had been expecting.

I watched her press down on her lower lip with her teeth and I had the sudden thought that I wished it was my lip instead.

Dammit. I wanted her. Fiercely.

It had been a long time since I’d had a woman, and of course it would be the one woman I shouldn’t have at all. The one woman I shouldn’t even consider wanting.

That seemed pretty par for the course these days.

“Alright, Captain. I think we can do that.” I knew I should stop there. I knew it, but instead I said, “Can I buy you a drink to celebrate our fresh start?”

She graced me with a genuine smile, and I thought my heart might stop beating.

“That sounds perfect.”

It did. I raised my hand to catch the bartender’s eye and waited for him to come and take my order.

I don’t think either one of had anticipated being out that late, but it was closing time when we finally headed out.

I hadn’t wanted to file away the sound of Brenna’s laughter, or the little face she would make when she was thinking.

But I knew it was happening, becoming a memory I was going to pull forward again and again. It didn’t matter if I wanted it to be a savored memory or not.

“Do you need a ride home?” I asked, as we walked into the parking lot.

“No, I’m good,” she said, flipping her hair back over her shoulder in an unmistakably feminine gesture that reminded me she was a woman first, doctor and soldier second.

I knew she probably was good to drive, but I still felt a little tinge of disappointment. Not that I was really sure what I thought might come from giving her a ride home. A torrid little tryst? A kiss goodnight on a front step like an actual date?

Neither one of those was going to happen, no matter how damn appealing I found them, and I cursed myself for even considering them.

She stopped walking next to a car I could only assume was hers and gave me another one of those heart-stopping smiles.

“Thanks for tonight, Major. I think we’re off to a good start.”

“I think you should call me Chad,” I said, not ready yet to have her disappear into the car.

She gave a little noncommittal sound and pulled open the door to the driver’s side. “Maybe,” she said, positioning herself so the door was separating us.

I stepped in toward her anyway, the door providing me with an excuse to stand closer than I should to her.

“Definitely.” I wanted to hear her say my name, see its shape on her lips.

God, I wanted that. Which was exactly why I needed to get away from Doctor Brenna Thiel.

“Goodnight,” she said, folding herself into the car and fastening her seat belt. She gave the smallest wave of her hand before starting the car and pulling away, leaving me in the parking lot watching her taillights disappear into the dark.

I stood there a moment longer, both wishing things had ended differently, and wishing I hadn’t let them go where they had.

Then I crossed the lot to my bike and pulled my helmet on, kicking the bike into gear, the sound of the engine drowning out the sound of my thoughts, at least for a little while.

CHAPTER 3

Brenna

I let myself sleep in later than I should have.

I figured I deserved it because I hadn’t let anything happen between Matthews and me last night.

And, somehow, somewhere along the way, it was like I’d forgotten what a total ass he was, and I’d desperately wanted something to ignite between us.

I knew I wasn’t alone in that desire — I’d seen it reflected in his eyes — but if that overture at the end of the night was any indication, I was certainly the more likely of the two of us to prevent it from happening.

I wasn’t sure if that was something to be proud of, or something to be resigned to.

I put him out of my mind as best I could and managed to make it through the next few days without our encounters hanging over my head.

I wasn’t going to be able to avoid it forever, though, because classes were about to ramp up and I’d see him daily.

It wasn’t going to be pretty, either. We’d be doing unpleasant simulations, and at the end of the six-week course, we’d have the mother of all survival experiences. The plan was to turn loose the cadets at the bottom of the mountain and let them rely on everything they’d learned to pull them through.

I’d seen sworn vegetarians kill a rabbit with their own hands at the end of a week of survival skills.

Major and I would be out there on the outskirts, watching them, aiming to be as undetectable as possible, just an emergency resource at their disposal. One more safeguard against a tragedy happening.

That meant he and I would be spending a lot of time together. Alone. Unsupervised. In the mountains. With nothing to do.

I was trying not to focus on that part of the course. I was pretty sure I could come up with a few ways we could keep ourselves occupied. And it wasn’t gin rummy.

I fought a growing desire to “accidentally” run into Chad Matthews. I threw myself into rounds at the hospital. I stayed late. I picked up shifts. I did whatever I could to avoid going home to my military issue two-bedroom apartment. Idle hands and all that.

But I was officially out of time.

Tomorrow, bright and early, I was going to be in a classroom with a list of cadets in front of me.

And a man beside me that I couldn’t seem to put out of my mind.

Chad

I had the distinct impression I was being intentionally avoided.

Not that I was broken up about it, or anything. The Captain was just one in a sea of pretty women I didn’t have time for. Yep, one more that I had no interest in using as anything more than a brief distraction.

I told myself that at least twice a day.

I also tried to kid myself into believing that I wasn’t looking forward to the coming week, when I would have the excuse to see her every day.

Not excuse. It wasn’t an excuse. It was a job requirement.

If I were being brutally honest with myself, I would have to admit that Brenna had totally derailed me. Since that night at the bar, I had only felt myself spiraling further and further from myself, the pull of the mountains and the night stronger than I wanted to admit.

It was part of the reason I had enlisted in the military. To learn to control it. To learn to dampen the urges and needs that were rooted in my very soul.

But now, each step outside into the new summer air sent a tingle spiraling along my skin, had me on the very edge of my senses, all but sniffing the air like an animal.

I hadn’t felt this out of control since I was a teenager, dammit, and I wasn’t relishing the trip down memory lane.

A cold shower and two cups of biting hot coffee later, I was dressed and ready to meet the class.

The campus was a quick walk from temporary housing, where I had been put up over the summer. This wouldn’t be a long term position for me — just something to fill the stretching void between deployments. It looked good to my teams when I was overseas, and it looked good to the cadets when I was there at the Academy. The Air Force knew how to use its resources.

I’d been in the classroom the day before to make sure I had everything I’d need. I wasn’t a big believer in using a classroom for teaching something like survival. Anything I could teach in a classroom, they could learn themselves from a damn book. But, there were a few things we could go over for safety’s sake.

We’d spend the first week in there, max, then we would be out in the field, setting snares, starting fires, putting out fires, working without instrumentation… thinking about the syllabus had me excited all over again. We would do our best to address any and all of the scenarios they might find themselves faced with.

Maybe that was the way to keep Brenna out of the equation. Focus on the nitty gritty. Don’t engage her.

Certainly don’t think about that tattoo, or the incredible way she filled out a pair of jeans. Or that mouth.

Dammit. I hadn’t even seen her this morning and she was already consuming my thoughts.

This could prove to be the longest summer of my life. If I couldn’t get my bear under control.

She hadn’t arrived at the classroom yet, so I set about writing on the board organizing the handouts, and setting up my clipboard so I could call roll as soon as class started.

It was five minutes to the start of class and cadets were already arriving. Brenna hadn’t made her appearance yet.

I was beginning to wonder if she didn’t value punctuality, if she wasn’t planning on coming, or if she had somehow managed to get herself reassigned, when she arrived. She looked pleasantly flushed, like she’d been rushing to make it on time.

“Morning, Doctor,” I said when she approached, her feet tapping on the old linoleum floor.

“Morning, Major,” she murmured, her voice soft, making me think of early mornings and midnight confessions.

I passed copies of the paperwork in her direction. “I assume you’ll be sharing some basic info with the class about how they should handle themselves and their bodies in a survival scenario?”

“That’s correct,” she said, still not meeting my eyes and flipping through the paperwork she had brought. “Basic things they should know already, but we’ll go over it anyway.”

Her dark eyes found mine for the first time that morning, and I immediately thought of that last heated moment in front of her car at the bar, before she’d driven off into the night reminding me that I meant nothing to her.

Which was probably the cold, hard truth.

“Besides,” she continued, one finely shaped eyebrow lifting upwards, “I expect you’ll be going over everything I’d planned to cover anyway.”

I couldn’t help the grin I gave her, because she was correct. Whatever trauma protocol she was interested in giving them, I would cover without a filter.

I was going to go ahead and tell them all about emergency trachs and compound fractures. They deserved to know the worst of the truth before finding themselves wading through it all. Whatever clinical definition and direction Brenna was planning on giving them wasn’t going to do them a damn bit of good in the field.

I knew from experience. She had only controlled environments under her belt.

She probably hadn’t done half of the things I’d had to do, in environs beyond unsuitable for the task, with no tools to speak of.

But we weren’t in class to talk about my achievements or experiences. We were there to prepare the cadets for the career they’d chosen and the worst of the unforeseen circumstances.

Wherever we differed in opinion, I was sure we were on the same page there.

The clock struck the hour, and I turned to the class. I gave a brief introduction of both the doctor and myself before running roll.

With everyone accounted for, I outlined the expectations, further class locations, appropriate clothing and foot wear, and the syllabus.

Teaching cadets is sometimes like staring at a classroom full of children. You know they’re trying to process the information, but they’re distracted by every freaking thing.

Worse than children, maybe.

And if I caught one more fucking cadet staring at Brenna, I was going to be sending him into a survival sim he was most assuredly not going to enjoy.

I might not be able to make many promises during a survival class, but that was one thing I could state with certainty.

CHAPTER 4

Brenna

I’d somehow managed to make it through the first two weeks of the class without killing Matthews.

Or having sex with him.

So, as far as I was concerned, we were in pretty good shape.

We would meet wherever we were scheduled to meet, and it changed every time. Sometimes we were in a flat field. Sometimes we were in the shade of the craggy mountain. Frequently, wherever we were, we were caught in the growing heat of the Colorado summer in full gear. Hot and uncomfortable.

Everyone, that is, but Matthews who seemed to thrive under those conditions. The man looked like he was basking in the damn heat.

Meanwhile, I was melting into a pathetic puddle of existence. But I was just here as the consult, anyway. With a man like Matthews, that meant my position was entirely a formality.

A fact which he never let me forget.

Now that we were well into the program, we were coming up on our first overnight, and I had the sinking suspicion things were about to get real.

Our role as facilitators was clear. We weren’t there to hamper or interfere. We weren’t there to give direction.

We were there to navigate emergencies and give them a grade, and if they deserved it, a recommendation.

I was dreading the trip.

And, part of me was looking forward to it. Whether I liked to admit it or not.

I arrived on time with my duffel, just as expected, packed with all the things I was supposed to bring and nothing more. Major Matthews wasn’t one that would take kindly to fancy makeup brushes and clay facial masks.

I wasn’t surprised to find Matthews on site already, waiting for everyone else. He was shading his eyes against the sun, looking for all the world like he had just sprouted out of the earth, and was waiting for his moment to return to it.

He was breathtaking, if I were being honest, and it wasn’t the first time I had noticed. His clear grey eyes, the hard line of his jaw and strong brow.

He was exactly the kind of man you imagined might teach a survival course. Right down to that scruff on his cheek that had him constantly looking like he’d shaved twelve hours earlier. Not to mention his tan.

I definitely did not need to mention that. And I most definitely did not need to be thinking about tan lines.

“Major,” I said, stepping up next to him, depositing my duffel on the ground next to his. I was fairly certain he could wear his duffle indefinitely without breaking a sweat, but in this kind of heat, I was going to take advantage of every possible way to reduce the strain.

It wasn’t actually the heat, but the humidity, that was overpowering. It wasn’t usual during this time of the summer, but the weather reports showed clear skies and good weather.

Other than the heat, and the heavy humidity.

“Doctor,” he said, making a little check on the paper in front of him, next to what I could only assume was my name.

I hadn’t failed to notice that he only ever addressed me as Doctor. Never by my last name. Never by my first. Never by my rank. I guess he was consistent, if nothing else.

“Muggy today,” I offered, like an old man sitting on a front porch.

He looked out at the empty field in front of us, like he was considering it for the first time, like up until then it had somehow escaped his notice that the weather wasn’t fit for man or animal.

“I guess it is,” he said, and silence stretched between us.

It seemed to be how it always was, that underlying zing of tension that never went away, that barely concealed hunger that neither one of us wanted to address.

Well, I wasn’t sure that neither of us wanted to address it, but at least we both acknowledged we shouldn’t address it.

Sort of.

It wasn’t long before the cadets arrived, and after a quick equipment check we were on our way.

We were given a simulation scenario: the plane had gone down and each cadet was placed in a small group of three. They had between them rations for one day, no communication devices and no change of clothing.

Like everything about survival sims, it seemed pretty upfront. None of those stipulations presented as a deal breaker. We collected their phones as they arrived, and stored them in a single bag I was going to be in charge of.  The Major and I tossed ours in there for good measure.

And then we were on our way, a seven-mile walk scheduled before we hit the base of the mountain.

Matthews wasn’t from the area, and as far as I knew, he hadn’t spent much time up in the mountains, but when I’d looked at his sketch of how he thought the cadets would play out their sim, it certainly appeared that he’d spent an extended amount of time scoping out the area.

We were off at a nice clip, but by the time we had four miles under our belt we’d all started to drag.

All of us, except Matthews, of course, who looked just as fresh as the moment I’d first seen him in the field.

Damn that man. It was not fair that he could be trudging through this kind of heat and looking so fine, while I was all but dissolving.

I was more than ready for the shade that greeted us at the edge of the mountain. Not that I would ever admit that. I didn’t need to give Matthews any more fuel for his fire. He’d made it perfectly clear where he thought I stood in the pecking order of soldiers.

Fortunately, I didn’t need to do the grumbling about the exercise, because the cadets were doing it for us.

I agreed with each and every one of them- silently.

By early evening we had reached our final destination and were setting up camp before each team moved to address dinner.

Per the requirements, the teams were set up twenty feet apart from one another, and were expected to engage in conversation, discussion, and strategizing only with the others in the group. Each was to pretend there was no one else around them.

Matthews and I were to be flies on the wall.

We found a spot perched above them, so we would have a better view of them as they worked. From there we could take the notes we would need to add to their files.

He watched them intently from up above. There was something vaguely predatory in the way he studied them.

In fact, since we’d entered the woods, he seemed different. Not that I knew him very well before, but we had been spending a fair amount of time together in the past few weeks, and he just seemed…different. More at ease. More in tune. Like there was something about being there that reset him.

I really couldn’t understand it, since I was pretty much a hot mess of exhaustion. My back and feet were killing me, but to each his own, I suppose.

“So what do you think?” he asked, settling onto his bedroll.

“About the walk?” I turned toward him, and then wished I hadn’t. If I had thought he was good looking before, it was nothing compared to how he looked now, dappled by the tree’s shadows, his face swimming in and out of the light, his eyes that amazing shade of grey.

Christ, I was like a teenager just learning she had hormones.

He gave me something I could only classify as a smirk.

“Actually, I meant about the cadets. What do you think about them and how they’re doing?”

“Oh,” I said, peering down at them, watching them sort through their belongings, take stock, and begin to formulate a plan. “I think they’re doing well?”

I hated myself for turning it into a question, for having to ask something when I knew damn well I had my own opinions about it.

“I agree,” he said. “They’re doing fairly well. No one’s done anything exceptionally well, and no one’s done anything exceptionally stupid. So all things considered I think they’re in a good place.”

We watched them a while longer, not talking to one another, sitting closer to each other than we should.

The rain came sometime in the night.

Before it did, there was a single crackle of heat lightning that zipped through the sky, one loud clap of thunder I was sure must have been something else at first.

And then the pouring rain.

It came down in sheets. It was hard to see even a few feet in front of us; the ground immediately softened, sucking at us with each step.

“Fuck,” I heard Matthews say loud enough to be heard over the sound of the spattering rain, from somewhere near me.

I was struggling with my bag, trying to find my poncho, my hair plastered to my head, blinking away the drops that were making it hard to see.

“I thought we weren’t supposed to have rain,” I called back to him.

“We weren’t,” his body was close enough to touch mine, his hand on my elbow. “This isn’t the right time of year for rain like this.”

It was dark and I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear something I didn’t like in his voice.

Something like worry. Something I had never heard from him before.

“We have to round up the cadets, and get them somewhere else.”

In the darkness and the rain, I could see him turn slowly in a small circle, like he was trying to intuit where that space we could take them might be.

“Where should we take them?” I asked.

He was looking up, even further up from where we were.

“I don’t think we have a choice. We need to get somewhere flatter, drier, before this ravine becomes a raging river. And these trees…Dammit.”

He didn’t need to go on. We weren’t supposed to be having a storm, but that didn’t matter, because we were.

And, though he was new in town, he seemed to know that when we did get storms like this — they were a big deal.

He was sliding down the hill toward the cadets. I could hear the mud splattering, his boots sticking as he went, and I realized I hadn’t yet put mine on.

He was, apparently, the kind of man who slept with his boots on. I didn’t actually think those men existed, but Matthews was here to prove me wrong.

Another thunderous boom sounded overhead, and it felt like we might as well be in the middle of an open field instead of under the cover of the woods. I could hear Matthews down below, pulling the cadets together, listing off what they should grab, and what they should bring.

I heard him say three times it wasn’t a drill.

While he did that I hurried into my clothing. It was soaking wet by the time I finished putting it on, but I pulled the emergency poncho I had in my pack over my head, hoping it would protect our supplies, our phones, and radios, because once the worst of the storm cleared we were going to have to phone in our location and that we were okay. The base would be waiting to hear from us.

“Let’s go, let’s go!” I heard him calling as he came back up the hill toward me, more slowly than he had gone down.

The water was coming down hard and fast, sitting on top of the ground, making everything slick and loose, waiting for one wrong step, one wrong footfall to pull free an entire mountain side.

He had been right. We needed to get out of there. And we couldn’t take our time.

The cadets were tuned into his urgency, and they were scrambling along behind him, sticking in their little groups, keeping count of one another.

Trial by fire. It was how I had learned on the emergency room floor of the hospital, too.

He stopped near me long enough to pick up his belongings and then he careened along up the hill.

I waited for the cadets to pass, bringing up the rear. As the second most senior leader, it was where I belonged, ready to scoop up anyone who might fall behind, who needed the extra help. If that person was me, I was going to be in some serious trouble.

We were scaling a steep part of the cliff, going wherever it was Matthews seemed to think we needed to go, when one of the cadets near him lost his balance and reached for a tree.

We’d gone over it a dozen times, but it’s always different in the moment, which is why we do the damn simulations in the first place. It’s hard to override your instinct with what you’ve learned.

He reached for a tree, which would have been fine two hours earlier, but the whole damn thing came up by its roots sending him flying backwards into the other cadets.

It was like watching in slow motion, his vague, dark form clutching a tree trunk and free falling, getting ready to go flying over the edge of the cliff side. It was impossible to see how far the cliff dropped or into what.

I was moving toward him as the cadets scattered the best they could, some of them losing their footing and crashing to the ground, others standing stock still lost in the horror in front of them.

I never saw him move, but suddenly, Matthews was right next to the cadet, reaching for him, pulling him back and spinning, so the cadet was catapulted back toward the others.

It was like a bad frame in a bowling game, the one who’d fallen crashing into the others until they were littered on the mountain side like so many upset pins.

It was great news for the cadet.

But not so great for Matthews who couldn’t change his trajectory in time to avoid slamming into a large tree.

This one didn’t give way beneath the assault.

I heard the crack, and the sound of the air escaping Matthews.

And then quiet.

The worst kind of quiet.

I was scrambling toward where he lay at the bottom of the tree, the cadets still righting themselves.

“Keep moving!” I yelled to them. “Get up that hill, and for Christ’s sake, do not grab on to anything. Assume nothing will keep your ass from falling. Keep your center of gravity low.”

They grumbled their responses, or didn’t bother to respond at all, I wasn’t sure, because I was already focusing on Matthews.

“Doing alright, soldier?” I asked, like I’d asked countless men and women who’d ended up on a gurney with me, some out in the field, some in the E.R., some in the comfort of an exam room.

Up close I could hear him breathing right away, even though I couldn’t see him well enough in the dark to determine what had been hurt.

That was alright, though, because any doctor worth her salt wasn’t going to be using her eyes anyway.

First I snatched his pulse, which was elevated, but considering the strain we’d been under, appropriate. I leaned over him, trying to hear his breath sound between the roar of the rain, one hand on his chest, feeling for its rise and fall.

“Good, good,” I murmured, waiting for him to regain enough of his breath that he could talk to me about what he’d hurt.

He wasn’t struggling to get up, yet, and that was my biggest hint that he had, in fact, hurt something.

Chad Matthews wasn’t the type to let a little fall keep him down. If he was still down, it wasn’t good.

I continued to run my hands over his body, staring with his left shoulder, speaking to him the whole time.

“Where does it hurt?” I asked, working my way down to the left wrist before moving back up and to the right side of the body.

That was where I found the first break, confirmed by the malalignment and the sharp intake of breath.

“Collarbone,” I said in sympathy, continuing to gently palpate the shoulder. It was probably the point of impact, so most of the injuries would be concentrated to that area.

There was nothing we were going to be able to do for the collarbone. Not here. When we got to where we needed to be I could stabilize it the best I could, but otherwise he was going to be uncomfortable until we could get him back to base and some good painkillers in his system.

The shoulder wasn’t going to be able to wait, though.

“Christ,” I finally heard him mutter.

“Sorry,” I murmured, not sure if he was even going to be able to hear me, before collecting his arm in mine, bracing myself against the tree he had connected so soundly with in the first place.

I counted down in my head, because I didn’t want him to know it was coming. And then, with a quick jerk upward, I slammed most of my bodyweight into him, feeling the resistance and then the give as the shoulder popped back into its place.

“Sorry, sorry,” I murmured again, knowing it must be hurting like hell. “Think you can get up?”

“Of course I can get up,” he said indignantly, and I couldn’t help but feel a little tweak of relief at his words. “Alright, then, I’ve sent the others on ahead. We’ll meet them at the top.”

I reached for his hand — his good one — and helped tug him to his feet, standing close to make sure he wasn’t going to topple over from pain or the change in elevation.

I could see his vague, dark outline, the injured side of his body stiff, his breathing more rapid than it should be.

The rain was still coming down. Hard.

An injury to the upper body is something you can’t really appreciate until you experience it yourself. It’s hard to imagine how connected it is to the rest of your body, just how much it’s going to impede every one of your movements.

Until you’re struggling with one. Worse, when you’re trying to haul yourself up a mountain, working against gravity and nature.

It was slow going, to say the least.

We climbed in silence, me mostly trying to keep tabs on his breathing while trying not to fall flat on my face.

I let him lead, which I was sure suited his ego. He didn’t need to know I wanted to be back there in case he lost his balance or passed out and toppled backward. He outweighed me by a good hundred pounds, so I didn’t anticipate being able to stop his fall, but maybe I would at least bring that fall to an end, and not have him somersaulting down to the bottom of the mountain.

I didn’t even want to think about that.

We’d long ago lost sight of the cadets — and I was hoping they were going to make it to the top, that they would somehow know exactly where Matthews had planned on taking them in the first place. I prayed we weren’t going to become separated out here — when we rounded a sharp curve in our makeshift path.

It happened suddenly. So suddenly, it was like I didn’t know it was happening at all, until it already had. The earth gave out beneath us, and we both started to fall, feet first along the side of the mountain, our feet scrambling, looking for purchase.

“Cover your face, watch your head,” I heard Matthews call, and I did as I was told, listening to him grunt as he tried to protect himself as well.

We managed to come to a stop when we tumbled into an outcropping of rock, where things seemed to level out, where we were able to rely on more than just dirt for purchase.

I would have been happy to just sit there, on that little ledge, but we’d barely stopped at all before Matthews was beginning to pick his way down the side.

“Can’t we just wait here?” I asked. There was no way we were going to catch up with the cadets now. We’d only get ourselves more lost if we tried.  We’d be better off waiting it out, and starting fresh in the morning, when the rain had cleared and we had some visibility on our side.

“Trust me,” he was saying, not pausing.

I guess I didn’t have much of a choice, so I scooted over toward him, feeling like I was on a ledge, waiting for something else to happen, one more thing that was going to send me over the edge.

I wasn’t a huge fan of dangling over the side of the mountain in the dark, but I felt Matthews snag my boot, sliding upward along my calf and guiding me toward the ground.

Damned if I didn’t have to remind myself that it wasn’t the ideal time to be stirred by his touch, and that, just like when I’d been roaming my hands over his body, it had been merely a clinical exercise.

Of course I had happened to notice how extremely sturdy and well-muscled his body was at that time, but it was still strictly clinical.

I thudded to the ground next to him and realized we were in a shallow cave. Everything around us was damp, but we were out of the rain, sheltered just a shade from the wind.

I peeled off my poncho first. It was covered in mud, torn and useless.

I wish I could say it had at least done its job and kept the rest of me dry, but it hadn’t. I was soaking wet and muddy.

And then I started to shake.

It was just a tremor at first, but then it was the real deal, head to toe quaking.

I thought I was never going to stop.

Matthews clapped me on the shoulder.

“Come on, now, soldier,” he said, calling me something other than Doctor for the first time, bringing to mind the words I had said to him not too long ago — even though it felt like hours ago now. “You’ve got this.”

He was right, of course, and through the fog that had accompanied the quaking, I realized everything was catching up to me and my poor body. Good old fashioned shock.

He was moving toward the back of the little cave and I followed him.

He sank down, his knees drawn up in front of him, his back against the wall.

I was right beside him.

Inside the cave, it was dark, the sounds of the rain muted, there was nothing to do but sit together. And talk. Or not talk.

It was certainly not the kind of night I had envisioned us having during our first overnight survival training mission.

But, it did seem fitting, somehow.

CHAPTER 5

Chad

My shoulder ached.

Everything hurt, if I was being honest.

I could feel the swelling setting in, the burning that accompanied even the most basic movements.

The landslide we’d gotten caught in was exactly what I had been afraid of happening when the rain began, but at our location on the mountain, the answer was to head up, not down. We would have only been more likely to get caught in a mudslide there, and when we did, it would have had momentum behind it.

We’d been so close to where we needed to be when that kid had grabbed ahold of the tree.

Christ. I hope they all made it. I could tell we were getting close to it. I could smell the vague hint of diesel and people. A hunting cabin, if I had to guess, and it would make sense in this part of the mountain, where large animals were plentiful.

Thinking about that reminded me how close I was to the figurative edge. How difficult it had been to keep my bear in check when I’d hit that tree, how close I had come to shifting right then and there.

If she hadn’t gotten there so fast, if she hadn’t put her hands on me, grounded me, who knows how things might have ended.

She was still shaking next to me. Cold, probably, among other things. I’d seen what she was sleeping in. By the time she got dressed she must have been soaked to the bone.

Of course, standing next to me by our bedrolls in the dark she’d probably thought there was no need to hide from me, in her little shorts and her tank top.

Fortunately, my night vision was excellent, and I had certainly enjoyed the view.

But then we had become swept up in our exit, and now we were here.

I wasn’t sure when it had happened, but somewhere along the way we had managed to lose our packs. The cadets had them or the hillside had them, but whichever the case, we didn’t.

Which meant all the things we could have used right now — an extra blanket, supplies to start a fire, even something to eat — weren’t doing us any good at all.

I could still hear her body jumping beside mine, and I knew the cold wasn’t doing her any favors. Sure, most of it had to do with the adrenaline surge catching up with her, the fallout from the evening. Every moment of it had been creeping up on her, adding up, until it had this moment to begin to unravel.

And she was definitely unraveling.

I couldn’t let her go on like that, so I reached my good arm over her shoulders and hauled her over to me. Whether she liked it or not, we had to get her shivering under control.

My injured side was still throbbing, but it was better than it had been and would continue to heal. Rapidly. By the time we actually managed to get off the mountainside and back down to a hospital, I knew I would be in the clear.

And I knew I was going to have to find a way to get in, get approved, and be on my way before Brenna had managed to piece all of those things together.

There were some immediate drawbacks to being placed with a doctor when you were a shifter. Especially when that shifter found himself injured, in the middle of the night, out in the middle of nowhere.

She didn’t complain about being hauled against my body like that, and even covered in mud and rain, beneath the tang of urgency and fear, I could smell that field of flowers.

There was something about the woman. She was going to be my undoing. I was becoming more and more certain of it with each passing moment.

We sat in silence for a long while, just looking out of the cave and into the dark. I could smell morning on the air, but I knew it was still going to be a long time in coming to the skies, with the storm.

The rain had finally let up, now a drizzle, a heavy mist making it seem even darker than it was.

Her shakes had long since subsided, but she had gone on pressing into me and I hadn’t been in a rush to detangle myself from her either, that floral scent engulfing me.

“I’m going to go,” she said, giving a little nudge to the outside. “I’ll be right back.”

I let her go. Whether she needed the space or go to the bathroom, I wasn’t going to ask. Truthfully, I could use a moment to regroup, too. Having her around seemed to make me suddenly unable to do any of the things I told myself I should be doing.

Which was, first and foremost, not thinking about her. Especially not thinking about her naked.

Unfortunately, that had started to capture quite a bit of my attention. Especially when I remembered that tattoo creeping up along her back, dipping in and out of her clothing.

She was gone just a minute, just one minute, when I first smelled it on a breeze coming into the little cave.

I was on my feet faster than I would have thought possible given the situation.

It was a cat. A big one, and if I were to guess, he was probably wet and irritable as fuck.

And Brenna was out there, traipsing around in the dark with prey written all over her damn self.

I reached the mouth of the little cave and rolled my shoulder, touching it tentatively, wondering how far I could push things with it before I was doubled over in pain. “Brenna!” I called, and I realized it was the first time I’d said her name out loud.

But I didn’t have time to think about that just then.

I couldn’t pinpoint where she was, just the lingering scent of her and the feel of her presence.

And another overwhelming scent of wet cat.

Dammit. I was going to have to find one of them, and fast.

Mountain lions in these parts didn’t mess around, and that was on a good day. I was fairly certain this particular cat was not having a good day.

CHAPTER 6

Brenna

I just needed a minute.

If I was pressed up against him another second, I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to control myself.

With the rain letting up, I found a quiet spot where I could lean against a tree for a few moments and just try to gather myself.

I wasn’t there two seconds before I heard Matthews shouting for me. He was using my actual name, so I suspected it was an emergency.

I pushed off the tree, spun and headed back toward him as quickly as I could in the darkness.

I never saw it, but I heard it. The loud, unmistakable sound of a mountain cat.

We knew they were out here, of course, but this time of year wasn’t as bad as in the fall, where they seemed to be on the sudden hunt to fill their bellies before the unreliable winter came. During the summer they were leisurely, the deer plentiful. There it was again, that low pitched scowling growl, followed by a hiss.

I froze. I’d already done irreparable damage by letting it see me run. There was nothing left for me to do but be as still as I could be and prepare for the attack.

I heard him say my name again, but I didn’t want to upset the delicate balance I had created by responding.

The cat heard him, too, and though I couldn’t see it well, I heard a rustling that suggested it was changing positions, preparing itself for an attack.

That was when Matthews came bursting onto the scene.

“No, Chad!” I yelled, but it was too late. The mountain lion flew through the air, its claws extended. I was screaming.

I heard the sound of one body hitting another, an unmistakable squeal of a cat, the grunts of a man.

And what sounded like another animal altogether.

I hoped Chad wouldn’t fight back. I hoped he’d play dead until the animal thought its prey was under control.

I hoped this was something we were both going to walk away from, but I’d seen maulings out in these parts, and I didn’t have a lot of hope.

I heard the cat cry out and scamper away. Maybe, just maybe, Matthews had somehow managed to get the better of it.

I scrambled over toward him. I was entirely unprepared when my hand came in contact with long, thick fur, instead of mauled flesh.

“What, the…” muttered, unable to process what I was touching. “What is…?”

I never finished the thought, because suddenly the thick fur was slipping out of my hands, and that hulking body was…

Well, it was becoming Chad Matthews.

Which was right about the time I thought I might have officially lost my mind.

Chad

I was on a freaking roll.

First the tree, now the goddamned cat.

My shoulder burned where he’d caught me across the back and his claws tore through my clothing and into my flesh.

I was sure there were long gouge marks there. Just like I was sure we weren’t going to have anything to clean it with and the wound was going to close up before I could get the damn thing taken care of.

Another round of antibiotics for me. Fortunately, I had a person I could call the script in to. We all did. We wouldn’t be able to exist out in society the way we do if we weren’t in every possible pocket, making things happen for the rest of us.

I suppose that was sort of how I’d ended up in the military in the first place. I was a beacon for every other shifter out there looking for someone to guide them into a successful career.

I’d already been shifting when the cat had launched itself at me, every one of its claws out stretched.

That had probably saved me from the brunt of the attack. After all, bear hide is a sight thicker than human skin.

What I hadn’t counted on was how quickly Brenna would get to me afterward. I wasn’t able to change back in time.

I felt her hand tangle in my fur, I heard the sound of her gasp, imagined the whirring of her thoughts as she began to put it all together.

That it wasn’t a human she was touching. It wasn’t me she was touching.

It was a goddamned bear.

I was a goddamned bear.

Her touch pulled me back quickly, setting me to shift right back.

If she was surprised by the skin beneath her fingertips, she didn’t let on. “We should get back,” she said, but I noticed there was something strange in the way she spoke the words.

“You go ahead. I’ll be right there.”

I had to get my damn clothing situation figured out, first.

At least — when I heard the cat making that threatening sound — I had the foresight to strip as much as I could as quickly as I could, so I wasn’t completely without clothing.

Well, I was at the exact moment, but once I sent Brenna on her way and had a few minutes to search the grounds around us, that problem should be solved.

At least it would be one thing cleared up for me.

She didn’t argue, and I felt her step away from me and back toward the little cave.

The fog was heavy now, with the first morning glimmer beginning to peek through.

I didn’t think I’d ever been so happy to see morning come.

It took me just a few moments to track down my clothes and pull them on, and when I made it back to the cave, Brenna was back in her original position.

“Well?” she asked expectantly.

“Well what?” I asked, not wanting to walk into something if I could avoid it.

“Well, how are your injuries?”

“Injuries?”

I realized I sounded like I didn’t have two brain cells to rub together, but I was having a hard time focusing, because she had reached for me and her hands were moving back over my limbs, pressing against my dislocated shoulder, her fingers tapping over my collarbone.

I heard the intake of breath.

“This can’t be right,” she said, giving my arm a vigorous shake.

“Dammit,” I said, wrenching away from her and grabbing it with my other hand. “Christ, Doctor, it still hurts.”

It did hurt. I mean, it might be a hell of a lot better than it had been just a few hours earlier, but I wasn’t at a hundred percent. Not yet. And I wouldn’t be for a while.

“Good,” she muttered. “It’s supposed to hurt. Your collarbone…”

“I know.” I didn’t want her to talk about it any longer. I didn’t want her puzzling through it, or sorting it out.

“Take off your shirt,” she said. A thrill spread through me, and I was instantly thinking about the very first time I had seen her.

Well, the second time. Maybe, technically, the third time.

But it was definitely the first time I’d seen her, sitting on that barstool, her back to me, her body the perfect shape for a pair of hands to settle on her waist, to press her up against something —

I shouldn’t be having those thoughts. I definitely should not be having those thoughts, but the way she told me to take off my clothes had me thinking of all the scenarios where those very things might happen.

I gingerly peeled the undershirt over my head. I could feel where it was sticking to me across my back.

Where I was still bleeding, no doubt.

She inspected me unceremoniously. “Come toward the light, so I can see you,” she said, though there still wasn’t much light to speak of. I moved toward the front of the cave anyway, the lightening sky offering a little bit of visibility.

I was still thinking about bending her over a damn bar, and she was touching my body like I was just another cadaver on a gurney ready for study.

“This is…,” she said before clearing her throat and trying again. “This just isn’t possible.” Her fingers slid back and forth over the part of my collarbone that had snapped like a twig when I’d plowed into the tree. It had knitted. Cleanly.

What I wasn’t ready for is when she ran her fingers down my chest, making a point to pull her fingertips through the smattering of chest hair there.

“Turn around,” she said.

I wasn’t going to argue with her just then.

She found the gouge right away. I could feel her fingers on either side of the wound, like she was trying to see exactly how far the extent of the injury was.

Then, she was letting one of those hands move over my injury-free shoulder, over the smooth skin of my back, down toward the tops of my pants.

“There’s no hair,” she said abruptly.

And that was right about the time it clicked for me, that those caresses of hers weren’t really caresses at all.

Brenna had just been looking for a hunk of body hair that she might have been able to confuse with animal fur.

She was just going to have to keep on looking. I’d happily shed my pants for her continued search.

“These claw marks, the edges are already healing. You’ve already stopped bleeding. It looks like it’s hours old. A day old.”

She circled around me, so we were face to face, and in the early light I could make out her dark eyes alight with something like anger and accusation.

“What are you?”

“It’s complicated,” I said, even though it really wasn’t complicated at all. It was just a fact.

“Try me,” she said, “Because this,” she gave a dramatic wave in my direction. “Is literally impossible.”

I stepped in close to her, thinking maybe I could distract her, my hands reaching out the capture her arms.

It was a goddamned mistake.

Once I was touching her, there would be no stopping.

My hands skimmed up her arms, my fingers caught in her hair, tipping her head back until I had easy access to her mouth.

And then I kissed her.

But, more importantly, she kissed me.

We were migrating toward the back of the cave, her arms wrapped around my neck, running along the top of my shorn hair.

“But, really,” she said when I pulled away from her long enough to unbutton the front of her BDU and push it over her shoulders.

“I have got to see this tattoo,” I growled instead.

“This…what?” she asked, dazed, and I couldn’t help the smirk I felt coming on.

Apparently I’d kissed her well enough that she could no longer function in the conversation we were having.

And I took that as a win.

CHAPTER 7

Brenna

I hoped he wouldn’t notice how much his kisses had rattled me.

But I was pretty sure that it was more than obvious. I could barely string two thoughts together.

His kiss had taken me by surprise, but it was more than welcome. Right now, out here, I didn’t care about protocol and decorum.

It had been one disaster after the next, and who knew what was just around the corner. I hadn’t thought we’d be able to top the landslide, but then the next thing I know, we’re attacked by a mountain lion.

Moral of the story: move on things while you can.

Because who knows when one of you will become a bear.

Okay, I maybe the bear part wasn’t part of the moral, but the fact remained that I was going to go on kissing Major Matthews, and if he wanted to check out my tattoo, I was damn sure going to let him.

He spun me around so I was facing the wall, what light there was falling across my back, and with a quick tug, my tank top was pulled over my head and discarded.

I could feel his fingers tracing along the ink, stopping at my bra to casually flick its clasp undone.

As though he already knew I would say yes.

And I wasn’t denying it. It was definitely a yes.

His fingers came to a rest at the flare of my hips, and he pressed kisses along the same trek his fingers had just taken.

“Chad,” I heard myself breathing, even though I remembered clearly refusing to call him by his name earlier.

Again, it didn’t seem the time for decorum.

He made it down to the last rose on the vine — I’d picked up the tattoo in celebration of my acceptance into the Air Force medical program. I was going to owe them time, but when I graduated I was going to have my M.D. and zero debt.

And that was a hell of a thing to celebrate.

I’d always thought I would end up overseas, either in the field with the soldiers or in the little pockets of oversea towns where real medical care was lacking. But I was just the beginning, and I needed time under my belt.

I had never expected to be so thoroughly derailed by a man I was working with. A military man. A Major, no less, who wasn’t even in the medical field.

But none of that mattered just then, when he spun me back around, so my back was pressed into the stone behind me, and his mouth was on mine, hungry, demanding.

I was melting into a puddle of desire.

I’d already taken off his shirt, so it only seemed logical that my hands would drop to his pants. I began to fiddle with his buckle and buttons.

He was evidently in agreement, because his hands reached for my pants, too. We quickly and fully divested ourselves of any fabric separating us.

“Your tattoo is beautiful,” he said, as he pressed hot kisses along the column of my throat, across my collarbone, his hand came up to capture my breast and run his thumb over my taut nipple. “It suits you.”

I arched against him. “I’m glad you like it,” I whispered, already having a hard time catching my breath, grounding myself.

His touch was confident and warm, and gentle, with the rasp of roughness that comes when a man works with his hands. Just as I had imagined it would be. Better, even. Perfect.

But I didn’t see why he should be having all the fun, so I let my hands do the same kind of exploring, moving over his chest and down his abdomen, the flat of his stomach quivering as I drew my fingers across the skin there.

And he had thought I was just a powerless Doctor masquerading as a soldier.

I moaned against his mouth as he dropped his hand between my thighs and slid a finger through my slick folds, until I was trembling and desperate to have him.

I wasn’t the only one with power, it seemed.

He reached around behind me, lifting me until the stone of the wall was biting into the flesh of my back and my legs were wrapped around his hips.

But, then he was sliding into me, hard and eager, filling me completely.

I said his name again for good measure, because I knew he would like it and because I didn’t think I was actually capable of saying anything else at that exact moment.

I rocked against him as he set an easy pace, the rhythm he created driving me wild.

It had been a long time since I’d been with someone, and when I had, it certainly hadn’t been like this.

“Christ, Brenna,” he was muttering, his face pressing into the curve of my shoulder, a spasm tearing through him. “You feel good.”

“Hmm,” I said, bringing my hands back to his head, the short hairs there little more than a peach fuzz, but soft and silky. So much softer than that tuft of fur I knew I hadn’t imagined.

My first orgasm caught me by surprise as I shuddered against him, cried out his name again.

But he wasn’t finished with me, and I wasn’t going to complain. Gone were the gentle ministrations from earlier, he was moving roughly against me, looking for his own release.

Then he was groaning my name, nipping the skin of my shoulder, and I could feel him pulsating inside of me.

Sending me right over the edge behind him.

Afterward, he wasn’t in a hurry to set me back down on the ground, and I wasn’t sure I was in a hurry to be placed there.

“You’re a goddamned bear,” I said suddenly, like I was picking right back up in the conversation we had been having when I had been entirely, epically, distracted by his touch. “And don’t think you’re going to avoid that conversation by having sex with me. What kind of girl do you think I am?”

If I’d wanted to go on being held like that by him, saying that was probably not in my best interest, because he was disentangling himself from me and setting me back on the ground.

Now the morning was well on its way, and I had a good view of his body.

Which meant he also had a good view of mine.

But I wasn’t going to let that prevent me from enjoying what I saw.

“I wish you’d stop asking about it,” he all but growled, running his hand over the back of his head and then reaching for his pants.

I guess the timing had been pretty bad on my part. But it was sort of important.

I mean, bear.

“Get dressed. We should be able to see well enough to find the others now. And it will be easier to tell where the problem areas are.”

Then he turned away from me, and left me to collect my own clothing and hurriedly pulling it on.

Officially dismissed.

We walked in silence, which was probably for the best, because every time I opened my mouth I seemed to put a foot in it.

Only, not talking about it wasn’t doing anything to answer my questions, and I really did want to know.

Need to know was more accurate.

As he had said, the sun was up, more or less, though the heavy rain still had us trapped in the fog of post storm. Even so, we were able to easily navigate the mountain side.

I never would have been able to find it on my own, but Chad seemed to have no problems at all, winding this way and that, turning here or there, moving further and further upward.

Which, I guess, was exactly why he did what he did and I did what I did.

We’d been walking about an hour and a half when we came to a little lodge on a level piece of land.

“How did you —” I began, forgetting that I’d already told myself I wasn’t going to ask him any more questions until he answered the one incredibly pressing question I’d already asked.

He turned toward me, one eyebrow raised.

And I was right back there, thinking about the damn bear again.

“They’re here,” he said, moving toward the door, knocking briskly on it. “Cadets!”

The door was pulled open immediately, by cadets who looked to be in much better shape than we were. The blonde at the door — the same boy who had reached for that tree in the first ill-fated experience of the night — looked utterly relieved at our appearance.

Bedraggled as I’m sure it was.

“Sorry, we’re late,” Chad said, stepping into the little cabin, nothing but a single room on the inside. “We got caught in the rain. And a slide. And by a mountain lion.”

They responded only with silence, but I was guessing based on how we looked, all of those things seemed plausible.

Maybe even highly likely.

No one even ventured a laugh.

“Anyone have a phone? Anyone find one on the premises? A radio?”

He was stepping through the room, opening cupboards, waiting for an answer.

“We were unable to find anything, sir.” A girl from the back said.

He finished his search anyway, and I knew it was because it would be unlikely to find a cabin this far out without some sort of emergency kit.

In the end, though, he wasn’t able to turn anything up either.

“Alright, team, we’re going to have to hoof it back on our own. Keep your eye out for the missing bag full of gear. I’m sure the base is waiting to hear from us.”

We’d left most of our things in the hurry to escape the storm, but apparently that wasn’t pressing because Chad was leading us down the other side of the mountain, away from the mess we’d left behind.

Away from everything that had happened in that little cave. Everything I couldn’t stop thinking about.

Chad

We’d made it back unscathed.

At least, the cadets had.

I could have used one or two less injuries, but I was on the mend, too.

The biggest damage done was that Brenna knew.

I’d done my best to avoid her finding out. I’d done my best to redirect the conversation after she’d put the pieces together.

And in the end, after we had reached the campus and the cadets had departed, I had been quick to escape her presence.

I couldn’t be near her and not think about the cave — her body hot against mine, writhing, exploding.

The thought of her had my dick hard all over again.

And if one thing was beyond evident, it was that it would never be able to happen again. She already knew more than she should. More than was safe for either one of us

My solution was juvenile and faulty, but I figured the best thing I could do, at least for the time being, was to avoid her.

At all costs.

And that meant no going back to the bar where I’d run into her that first night. Even though I told myself I wasn’t going there to look for her, and it wouldn’t make any difference to me whether or not I saw her car in the parking lot.

Of course, avoiding her was only going to do me so much good when we still had weeks of classes left.

I gave the cadets a week off, figuring they’d earned the time after the experience they’d had. I asked them to reflect on it and write me a paper, and I thought that was probably enough to justify the lack of class.

I knew it was mostly so I could put off seeing Brenna. I also knew I wasn’t going to be able to do that for much longer.

But, to my surprise, the Monday after the week off, the cadets trickled in.

And no Brenna.

I thought at first, maybe she was running late, that she might feel awkward about our tryst in the cave, how I’d touched every inch of her and would sign up to do it again in a heartbeat.

But, no Brenna. I even dragged my feet, making sure to double check my files and sort through papers that didn’t need sorting. Class commenced, class was dismissed. Still, no Brenna. She hadn’t shown for class that day at all.

Or the next day.

Or the day after that.

In fact, I didn’t see her again until Friday, back on the green where we usually met.

The cadets had already gone, preparing for their next practical experience — a week-long trip we were hosting next to a lake, in the hopes that we would be able to foster some different kinds of skills in that landscape — when I spied her walking across the field toward me.

She looked just as good as she had when she’d been naked and pressed against the wall of that cave, her body hot against mine, searching for the same thing I had been.

Brenna was flipping through a sheaf of papers she had in her hand, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what was in them, especially if her expression was any indication of what it might be.

“Major,” she said tartly.

“Doctor,” I said, stepping in toward her even though her body language told me it wouldn’t do any good.

I couldn’t help myself.

“Brenna,” I corrected myself, my voice low.

She was pressing the papers in to my chest. “This is your blood work. I pulled samples from your clothing.”

I looked down at the charts in front of me, the vague numbers attached to valued I didn’t understand.

“And?” I finally asked when it became clear she wasn’t going to provide me with any more information.

“And, it’s not good. In fact, it’s probably the worst news you could ever get. Because you’re not human. According to these values, you just aren’t human.”

She was stabbing at something on the paper, something I was to understand must be the defining thing that made me not human.

I caught her hand in mine.

“Stop,” I growled, not wanting her to go on, knowing I was in a horrible, vulnerable position with her acquisition of that knowledge.

“Do you know what might just be worse, though?” she asked, and in the bright day light her eyes were inky and endless, and I wanted to get lost in them, not talk about my deficiencies as a human being. “It’s that you’re a bear.”

“That’s not possible,” I said flatly, not knowing what else I could do, desperate to end the conversation and find a way to put it all behind us, to wipe the knowledge from her mind. “Do I look like a bear?” I asked instead.

“No,” she said, her eyes fixing on mine. “You don’t look like a bear. Now. But I imagine sometimes, you do. I’m not an expert on things like that, but Major, I think that makes you a werebear.”

I froze. I suddenly felt exposed and naked with the truth laid out there like that.

“And?” I asked.

“And,” she clipped, “I want to know more. How? Why? I want to ask all the questions and have all the answers.”

“Well, I’m not sure I have those for you.”

That part, at least, was true. There were so many unknowns in it, even for me.

She was reaching out for me suddenly, her hands twisting in the fabric of my BDU. “I need to know, Chad,” she said, and there was a rawness in her voice, a hunger, that had me thinking of that moment back in the cave. “I need to know how I can care so much, want someone so much, when he’s not even human.”

That, I definitely didn’t have an answer to.

Brenna

I waited impatiently.

To be honest, I didn’t have much of the virtue of patience, and today I was especially lacking.

I hadn’t meant to storm away from him, not really, but I couldn’t stand to look into those cool grey eyes a second longer. I couldn’t stand knowing what I knew and having him deny it to my face.

And I didn’t want him to see how much he affected me.

By the time I’d thought better of it, it was too late to go back. I knew he would be long gone.

I headed back to the hospital, thinking I might be able to find something there to occupy my time, but there was nothing in my office or in my paperwork that could capture my attention enough to draw it away from Chad Matthews.

Not long enough, not completely enough, not exciting enough.

It took just a moment to find his current address in the hospital’s database, and then I was on my way to temporary housing.

I’d stood outside his door. Walked up and down the hall. Perched on various inanimate objects, waiting for his eventual return.

I had barely processed his arrival before I was leaping to my feet and moving toward him, the small space that moonlighted as a window seat at the end of the hall, disappearing behind me.

I knew the minute he saw me, his step faltered, as though he was weighing whether or not he should continue forward, or whether he should turn around and run. Could he could move away from me more quickly than I could move toward him?

“What are you doing here?” he asked bluntly.

“I came to see you,” I said with just as much tact. “I shouldn’t have left earlier. We weren’t finished. There’s still so much more I need to know…”

“Look,” he growled, his voice filled with gravel and laced with angst, his hand reaching out the grab my upper arm, his fingers biting into the soft flesh there, a reminder of his physical strength. “I don’t know what you think I can tell you. I’ve given you everything I have to give.”

His touch had already sent me back to that moment in the cave, and now with those words on his lips, I was melting into him, a veritable puddle of emotions and desire.

His mouth came crashing down on mine as he roughly hauled me up against him, his tongue teasing against mine, his hands moving over my body like he already owned me.

And I was thinking he already did.

Somehow he managed to open the door to the little suite while kissing me, a feat I was going to have to marvel over later, and we were crossed the room toward the bedroom at the back.

I knew exactly where we were going, and I had no qualms about going there at all. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since the first time I’d let him slide his hard cock into my body, and now, I wanted him back where he belonged.

I was moaning against him, saying his name, because I knew it was something he liked, and something I’d tried so hard to hold back from him.

But now I was putty in his hands, turning into whatever kind of pliable thing he wanted me to be, desperate to have him.

“Does it matter?” he asked, his teeth nipping at my lip. “Does it really matter?”

I twined my arms around his neck, letting him carry me the rest of the way to the bed, moving eagerly against him.

“No,” I heard myself say, and my voice was ragged, pleading.

It didn’t matter, I suppose. I thought it had, but the truth was, it didn’t matter at all.

The only thing that mattered was that I was here with him, our clothing being pulled from our bodies one piece at a time, exploring one another with a sweetness and an urgency and a desperation that reminded me of our time in the cave all over again.

Would it always be like this?

And I was certainly going to look forward to finding out.

THE END

THE LION’S CLAIM

STORY DESCRIPTION

Everyone in the city knows Jakob Moore, the billionaire playboy whose face graces the covers of multi- national newspapers and magazines. Referred to as one of the world’s richest eligible bachelors, as well as a cutthroat businessman and CEO, Jakob is well aware of his reputation. He’s proud of it!

After all, he’s the CEO of a highly successful corporation, King of his lion shifter pride, has a different girl on his arm every night… what man in his right mind wouldn’t envy him? His life is damn near perfect until the fateful afternoon he runs into sweet, curvy Bree Reynolds. Literally.

Suddenly, Jakob’s fabulous high-powered world becomes hollow and superficial. In fact, nothing in his life means anything to him unless he can claim Bree as his mate.

Bree Reynold’s parents are pressuring her to marry, but not to just any man. They want her to find a husband whose financial and social status will rival their own. But, there's not a man alive who can pin Bree down. If her parents' horrendous marriage wasn't enough to convince her that love is a sham, then her last few years working as a marriage counselor certainly was. Bree has been surrounded by awful relationships and painful, troublesome marriages.

When Jakob Moore enters her life, he's already got two strikes against him. He's rich, and he thinks he loves her. He’s quick to learn that the only thing Bree hates more than the phony concept of love, is money.

Surrounded by yes men, Jakob is used to getting what he wants, but with stubborn, headstrong Bree, he certainly has his work cut out for him. Bree’s mind is made up, and no man will convince her otherwise. Not even Jakob Moore, the sexy CEO who makes her pulse race and her knees weak.

When Bree gets dragged into danger because of him, Jakob has had enough and now he will stop at nothing to save her and mate her. But, will Bree accept this Shifter into her life before it's too late, or will her stubbornness be the end of her?

Chapter 1

Bree Reynolds sat in her office listening to Mary and Peter Ableman discuss their sex life—or lack thereof—for the third time this month. When she'd ditched law school to go into marriage counseling, she'd thought she'd be saving marriages, helping people. Since graduating and getting her job at Oasis Counseling Services, she hadn't seen one couple successfully redesign their marriage into a happy one. Oh, plenty of couples stayed married after coming to see her, but those marriages consisted mostly of women who'd decided to accept their husband's infidelities, or men who'd decided to stay with their nagging, ball crushing wives for the kids' sake.

That was a big one: for the sake of the kids. She heard it all the time from couples. She knew she should just stop asking, but inevitably she'd put the question to them: Do you still love each other? Think about each other during the day? Miss each other when you're not together? The inevitable answer was always: Well, no, but for the sake of the kids...

Her phone vibrated and she looked down to read the text from her mother.

Are you coming to our anniversary dinner? I haven't received your RSVP. Your father's not well, you know. It could kill him if he doesn't see you.

Talk about passionless marriages. Bree's parents had decided that making money was their top priority, and everything else was a distant second. They were richer than Bree would ever be, but they hadn't loved each other since she was five. She was twenty-six now. That's a lot of years to spend with someone you can't stand. Bree rolled her eyes and looked up to see Mary and Peter staring at her.

"Sorry," she said, "did you say something?" Bree caught her reflection in the mirror and smiled at her new haircut. The hairdresser had been right. It complemented her round face and the curves of her body. Somehow her bright green eyes looked that much brighter with a cute bob and red highlights.

"I asked," Mary said, her voice barely audible over Peter's heavy breathing. "If you thought it was worth it for us to stay together?" She burst into tears then and Peter automatically stuck out his hand and patted her knee. It would have been sweet if Bree didn't know the main reason for Mary's tears was because of the twenty-year-old secretary she'd caught Peter screwing not long ago.

Bree replied with her much rehearsed answer to such questions. "There's still a lot of work to do, but if you love each other, that work can be done. Marriage is tough for everyone."

Which is exactly why I'm never getting married. No marriage plus no kids equals a happy life.

She looked out the window and wished she could be outside and away from this constant reminder that all the movies and songs got it wrong. There was no such thing as happily ever after.

***

Jakob Moore sat behind his mahogany desk and looked at his watch. The overhead lights flickered on the gold, creating a rich tapestry of yellows and creams that made his watch look shiny and expensive. Considering the fact that it was expensive—very, Jakob appreciated the opulence of it as it gleamed against the tan of his skin.

Blake scanned Jakob's face, uncertain if he should speak. He hated feeling inferior to anyone, especially Jakob. But that's what being second in command meant—you were always inferior to the King above you.

"Well?" Jakob asked. With this new deal coming up, there was nothing to be left to chance. Jakob had planned this takeover for too long. Putting his competition out of business was the only thing he'd thought of for the last several months, carefully plotting each move before taking action. That was what any good leader did—thought of a solution, then implemented it. The takeover wasn't about getting rich—Jakob already had billions more than he could count—it was about protecting his pride from their rival company.

If one rival was able to make a dent in his production, reduce his income by even one percent, the whole pride would suffer. The pride depended on him not just for money, but for their lives. It was Jakob's company—he was the alpha, the King, after all—but it was run by his pride, and they all depended on him to make sure it continued.

"Well?" Jakob demanded, baring his teeth a little more. He did not like waiting for answers.

"If I gave anyone the impression I was displeased with you in any way," Blake said, hiding the snarl that tried to rise in his throat, "I apologize. You know that's not true. My only intention when speaking with Mark was to emphasize how important this deal is. When we crush Remy Riders, it will make our own product that much stronger, and our pride that much more powerful."

Jakob nodded. He knew Blake wasn't being entirely honest, as pride leader he could sense even the hint of a lie, but he also knew Blake was loyal. If he'd sensed any semblance of disloyalty, he'd have banished him from the pride right then and there. As the King, it was sometimes important to distinguish between disloyalty and someone blowing off steam.

"Now leave me," Jakob said, running his hand over the golden blonde scruff on his chin, "I need to get ready."

Chapter 2

"No, Mom." Bree stepped out of her office building. It was five o'clock and she needed a latte. The phone burned against her ear as she hurried down the street. "No, Mom."

"But Bree," her mom persisted, "you're almost thirty. You need a man. Why don't you just meet Walter? He's cute."

Bree scoffed. ‘Cute’ to her mom usually meant someone either way too old or way too young for Bree. "He's probably rich too, right?"

"Well..." her mother said. "He could support you in a comfortable lifestyle. Then you could quit that God-awful job you have. I still don't know what you were thinking when you left law school. It was probably the worst decision you’ve ever made. Other than giving up your gym membership and indulging in a calorie-laden diet."

"I'm perfectly fine with my size, Mom. And I like my job." Both things were true. The curves of Bree's body were abundant, but she felt that they were fashioned from a certain type of sex appeal that she was proud of. She was glad she had avoided the stick figure and bird's legs gene that her mom had been cursed with. Bree was voluptuous and although she resisted most advances from men, that didn't stop her from appreciating the way men's eyes followed her as she moved across a room.

As for her job, despite feeling like the couples she counseled were all doomed, she also still held out hope that she could help them get through the encroaching darkness a little easier. She thought there were times she at least made the failure of marriage a little easier to take.

"Bree, are you listening to me?" her mom screeched into her ear. "What about our anniversary party. You need to—"

Bree slammed into something hard and bounced off it like a rubber band. She fell back on the sidewalk and felt her hands scrape pavement, her phone flying from her hand. Her mother's voice still screeched through the air from five feet away. She shook her head, dazed. What the hell. She felt like she'd just crashed into a semi-truck.

"Are you alright?" A voice, deep and dark and irresistible, spoke to her through a fog. She shook her head again and looked up into the eyes of a man who couldn't be real. He was too perfect. His eyes were layered with shades of gold and they bore into her with an intensity that had Bree wondering if he was trying to cast a spell on her.

"Are you alright?" he asked again, extending a hand. It was larger than most men's hands, and although her common sense told her she was seeing things, she could have sworn the muscles of his hand pulsed under his skin like a heartbeat.

"I... I'm fine," she said, finally finding her voice. She took his hand without even thinking. It felt natural to place her hand in his. His skin was hot—a few degrees warmer and he might've burned her. She wondered if he had a fever, but his golden-bronzed skin was too flawless. No infection could have survived in the body that delicious. Muscles bulged under his shirt, and thick golden-blonde hair fell into a slight shag over his eyes. For the first time in her life, Bree forgot how to breathe.

***

Jakob stared at the woman in front of him. He felt something stir deep inside him, slow at first, then quickly building to a towering monolith. His muscles contracted under his skin, and he felt a flicker of that familiar defiance as the lion in him tried to escape. He took several deep breaths.

What the hell is happening to me?

When he opened his eyes again he looked more closely at the woman who'd run into him. Her body was not the type he would have normally gone for, but there was something seductive about her soft curves and the pout of her lips. Her scent filled him and it was like tasting air for the first time in his life. Jakob could have any woman he wanted—and certainly enjoyed playing the field—but the second he laid eyes on this one, he knew she was the only woman he would want ever again. He had found her. His mate.

She took the hand he offered and when he clasped his paw, so much bigger than hers, around her delicate fingers, there was an undeniable spark. Bree felt it too, only instead of being thrilled as Jakob had been, it scared the bejesus out of her. Alarm bells screamed inside her head. Warning! Warning! Get Away From This Man! Run!

It wasn't that she thought of him as dangerous in a way that he might do harm to her. The look in his eyes as he helped her up told her otherwise, but the pull she felt towards him was unnatural. She'd never met a man she'd been drawn to before—not like this. Her insides twisted as she retracted her hand from his, it didn't want to move.

"Are you alright?" Jakob asked again. "Did I hurt you?"

Bree giggled. She couldn't help it. The school girl in her rushed to get out. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? I mean, I bumped into you, right?"

Jakob smiled. Bree's heart was set aflame inside her chest as the corners of his lips twitched up. Was he a model? He certainly could be. He looked like a model. Her breath quickened along with her pulse.

Jakob's own mind was spiraling out of control. He needed this woman, and he'd never needed anything before. The meeting he'd been headed to—the one he'd planned for months—flew from his head and sailed to the clouds. It no longer mattered.

"Where are you going?" he demanded.

The words struck a distant memory of an overbearing mother demanding to know every detail of Bree's whereabouts, afraid she was hanging out with "the wrong crowd." Of course, to Bree's mother, the wrong crowd meant anyone who made less than a million dollars a year.

Bree looked at this man's suit and tie. They looked expensive. His shoes shined under the rays of the sun. The gold watch wrapped around his wrist—which was so large the band could barely fit—looked like a Rolex.

"Nowhere," she replied. Her voice was harsh, but she didn't care. This was exactly the type of man her parents would love, and the type she stayed away from. "Excuse me, I have to go."

She turned on her heel and left the man standing there, unaware of the twitching of his hardened jaw and the unnatural glow that burned behind his eyes.

Chapter 3

Blake stood with his back against the limo, waiting with the driver on the side of the road like a servant.

I'm no servant! I'm second in command!

It almost sounded good. Almost sounded powerful. But there was that pesky word that just wouldn't go away—second. Blake had always been second best. Even in high school, when the change had happened, it had been Jakob who had turned first. Blake had followed a mere week later, but that still qualified as second.

"Damn him for this!" Blake hollered, beating his fist against the glass. He felt the window give slightly and pulled his hand away before it broke.

The driver looked up from his cell phone. "It's not really Mr. Moore's fault the limo had engine trouble."

Blake glared at him.

The driver tried to hold his gaze against Blake's. He'd never liked Blake—he was a kiss-ass and he'd be damned if he'd let that sonofabitch think he was better than him—but soon the driver's steel faltered. Something in Blake's eyes made the driver fear being alone with him. He looked like he could snap at any moment, like... like he wasn't entirely human. But, that was ridiculous. Blake grinned at him, revealing teeth that were too sharp and too long for convention. The driver turned back to his cell phone.

Blake laughed. Jakob would never have allowed him to mess with the driver that way, but Jakob wasn't here. He'd left Blake with this servant and went off to the meeting alone. The meeting Blake had helped plan. The one that could bring them millions and ensure the livelihood of the pride for the next decade—hell, the next century. And, here Blake was, cast aside like a piece of rotting meat. It made him sick.

***

Bree hovered in front of the counter at the coffee shop, her cheeks flaming red.

"It was declined," the barista said. "Again." The girl, so young she still had acne, gave Bree an exasperated look.

"But, I know there's money in it. Try again." The barista sighed but banged some keys on her register and the credit machine reset. Bree swiped her card. It made a loud beeping noise and the screen flashed red: DECLINED.

"Do you have another form of payment ma'am?"

Ma'am? Did she just call me ma'am? Jeez, this day was getting worse and worse. First, there was the same tired struggle with her mother. Next, she crashes into a supermodel body builder who makes her skin tingle, and falls flat on her ass. Not to mention that as hot as he was, she walks away from him because she's too disillusioned to see any point in granting even a small flirtation. Now, this.

She vaguely wished she'd gotten his name. His eyes had been so intense. She felt them on her even now, those deep golden-brown orbs that had sucked her in, mesmerizing her like a magician. She knew she was probably idealizing him in her mind. No one was that perfect.

"Ma'am," the barista's voice rose. A line was forming behind Bree. "Are you gonna get the latte or what?"

"I guess not," she said, lowering her eyes a fraction of an inch. She could already taste the latte on her tongue.

"Allow me," a voice crooned from behind her.

Bree didn't need to turn around. The voice was unmistakable. It was too deep, too sultry to be anyone other than the model she'd left on the sidewalk only ten minutes prior. Her blood pressure shot up twenty points as he stepped towards her.

His shoes made soft clunks on the ground as he moved through the crowd. They parted for him like he was a celebrity coming down a red carpet, and he seemed to accept, no—expect it. Bree turned her head and saw the jaw on the girl behind her drop open and begin to salivate. He handed the barista a fifty. "Please, add the change to your tip jar." The girl blushed.

The supermodel smiled at Bree and when his arm brushed hers she felt her heart skip several beats. She took a great gulp of air and said, "You don't have to do that."

"I insist."

She couldn't stop the corners of her mouth from curving up.

"Did you follow me here?" she asked.

"Yes."

His honesty startled her. She wasn't sure whether she should be flattered or frightened.

"I'm Jakob Moore." He stretched out his hand and she took it again without thinking. It was almost as hot as the latte he handed her.

"Now," he said, leading her away from the crowd. His eyes followed her as she walked, watching her ample hips swish back and forth over her shapely legs, crafted, no doubt, to entice him. "Tell me your name."

"Oh," she said. "I'm... I'm..." Her brain wasn't working for some reason. "Bree," she finally spit out.

"Bree," he repeated. Her name rolled off his tongue like sugar. "Now that we've been introduced, you must do something for me."

Bree hesitated, searching his face for the telltale signs of a serial killer, but seeing none. "Yes?"

Jakob gestured towards her latte. "An exchange. Coffee for companionship."

Her reaction confused him at first. She looked angry.

"You want my companionship?" she shouted. Her beautiful blue eyes narrowed. "What do you think I am? Some kind of prost—" But Bree couldn't get the word out. The taste was too vile in her mouth.

Jakob immediately realized the miscommunication gaffe. "No," he said, "I didn't mean it like that. I only meant—"

She threw her coffee on the floor. It splattered against his legs and singed his skin, for a shifter a mere a bee sting that would heal in minutes. Bree was already to the door. He moved to follow her.

"Bree," he called. "Stop." His tone was commanding, the roar of a king, and she did as he said. Good.

She turned to him. "If you follow me again, creep, I'll rip your balls off."

She pushed the door open and left Jakob standing wet and alone, more startled than the crowd of coffee drinkers.

Chapter 4

Blake stared at Jacob, horrified. "You missed the meeting?"

Jakob barely looked at him as he shrugged out of his suit coat and tossed it onto the cherry wood bench lining the entrance hall of his pride’s home. All he could think of was Bree. How had he blown it? He didn't think that was possible. Once established, the connection with your mate could never be severed. Yet, she had run from him twice already.

Blake's anger overwhelmed him. He felt his body wanting to shift. His eyes glowed a golden orange and his fingers extended towards the floor.

"Pull it back in," Jakob ordered. "Now is not the time."

Blake forced himself to concentrate. Soon his breathing normalized and his eyes were once again a very average looking hazel. He was embarrassed at such an outburst in front of Jakob.

"Did you hear what I said," Jakob growled, "or are you so focused on money you can think of nothing else?" Blake did not respond so Jakob continued. "I found my mate."

Blake knew Jacob shouldn't be faulted for what had happened—when you found your mate, there was nothing so important as solidifying the bond—but he didn't care. If Jakob couldn't do close the deal himself, he should've sent Blake in his place.

Jakob sensed Blake's anger, and it unsettled him. Blake had always been loyal, but was that loyalty wavering lately? It upset Jakob to think that Blake, his oldest friend and second in charge, could show signs of wanting a blood draw. If Blake persisted, Jakob would have no choice but to put him in his place. Even if that meant banishment from the pride—or worse.

"Next time, I'll go to the meeting." Blake said.

Jakob's growl grew deep in his throat. "You are still second, Blake. You do not make demands. You ask permission." He paused and let the strength of his will wash over Blake's own. All alpha's had the ability to force their will onto the male lions in their pride. It was for the safety of the pride this was possible—contradiction in a lion pride could quickly lead to death and destruction.

Blake tried to fight the power of Jakob's injunction, but it was stronger than his own.

"Forgive me," Blake finally said, because he had no choice. The words were bitter on his tongue.

Jakob nodded, dismissing Blake. He would deal with him later. For now, there were more important matters to take care of.

***

Jakob was hunting Bree. He found her scent easily in the air. Even from miles away, it could not hide from him. There was something else... a gentle tugging at the back of his brain that told him where she was. He'd heard the stories, of course, of sharing a connection with your mate so strong it was sometimes as though you were one person. He'd thought the stories were exaggerated. He knew now that they weren’t.

Jakob left his house early and followed Bree on her Saturday morning routine. She'd stopped first at a convenient store and come out carrying a bottle of water. She'd seen him, but he'd disappeared quickly, knowing it wasn't the right time to reveal himself.

Next, she stopped at the bank. She'd seen him again, and he smiled at her through the window and continued on his way, as if the meeting were mere coincidence.

Now he stood outside a coffee shop. Not the same one as last time. This one offered chocolate mocha volcano cups, whatever those were. He watched through the window as Bree placed her order.

***

Bree knew Jakob was outside. He'd been following her all morning. She didn't know if he thought she was too dumb to notice, or so confident that he didn’t think it mattered.

She tried to gather her thoughts. Call the police? No. Despite his trailing her everywhere, she didn't feel threatened by him. She felt flattered. A wealthy, sexy man was giving up his Saturday morning to follow her around as she ran menial tasks like going to the bank and buying coffee.

She looked at the latte in her hand—coffee was her one vice. She couldn't live without it—and knew she shouldn't spend the money on it. She'd had to transfer money from her savings to her checking account yesterday after work. Her savings was almost completely gone now. A couple hundred dollars and she'd be dead broke.

She watched Jakob pace outside the shop. He sent tingles up her spine, even as he stalked her. She couldn't stay in here all morning. She stepped outside. "Are you following me?"

"Yes." Jakob watched for her reaction. He didn't want her running off again, but he also refused to lie. There was weakness in lying, and Jakob was not a weak man.

"Why?" she demanded.

Jakob shrugged. "Because you're my mate."

His mate? Was he for real? However, as strange as the words sounded, they were kind of titillating. She'd dreamt of him last night. It had been a very vivid dream, charged with a sexuality almost as unreal as the muscles under his clothes.

"I want to explain about yesterday," Jakob said. "When I asked for companionship, I only meant the pleasure of your company." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "In a public place," he added. "I only wished to talk to you."

"Why?" Bree asked. She couldn't believe a man like this would have anything much to say to her. A man like him could have his choice from half the women in the city. Ok, his personality was a bit arrogant, but with looks like his, and his obvious wealth, Bree would be surprised if he didn’t have women falling over themselves to talk to him, or do anything else he desired.

Jakob could not believe how beautiful, yet how stubborn, this woman was. He knew she felt what he did. Why was she resisting? "I told you. You're my mate." Bree's heart thumped in her chest. "Go to dinner with me," he said. "Tonight. I want you to know me."

Bree felt herself giving in. "I have work stuff…," she murmured. The excuse sounding lame even to her own ears.

Jakob's eyes went black then lightened to an almost unnatural degree of bright yellow-gold. "This is more important," he said. "It's the weekend, anyway."

She couldn't fight the electricity that zipped over her skin just being near him. Her pulse was racing and in that moment, her heart overruled her brain by a miniscule margin, and she gave in. "Alright," she said, and gave him her address.

Chapter 5

Bree double checked herself in the mirror. Her dress was tight and clung to every voluptuous curve of her body. She especially liked the way her breasts rounded out to form a nice line of cleavage skinny chicks could never get without implants.

The light green of her dress highlighted the deeper green of her eyes, and she added a dash of red to her lips before pressing them onto a napkin to blot the excess. How long had it been since she’d gone on a date? She’d given up dating some time ago, and was surprised to find she was actually a little nervous about the evening.  When the bell rang, Bree's startled so hard she almost jumped. Ok, maybe she was more than a little nervous. She shuffled down the hall of her apartment and slipped into some black heels before adjusting herself one last time.

Jakob stood outside the door, flowers in hand, feeling silly. The typical courting rituals weren't usually done when you found your mate. They weren't necessary. Mates were usually other lion shifters who instinctively knew they were supposed to be together. Things like dating and courtships were usually skipped. It went from claiming to having cubs.

Bree was making this more difficult than it should be, but he also found that to be something fascinating about her. He felt as though he already knew her, yet he could not wrap his mind around exactly what made her tick. She infuriated him in ways no woman ever had. Jakob had become accustomed to getting his own way, especially where women were concerned, and now he found himself having to work for his mate’s affection. It aroused the predator in him like nothing else ever had.

"So, you're not a model?" Bree asked after they'd been seated.

The restaurant they were in was far too fancy for her taste. Bree shifted in her seat. At the table next to them, a woman in a Valentino dress drank Dom Pérignon like it was water.

Jakob laughed. It was a rich sound that made her body tingle and long to touch more than just his hand.

"No. I suppose you could call me an entrepreneur. I own several companies, and buy other companies that I think will make me more money."

"That sounds… hmmm… exciting," Bree said, her voice betraying her white lie. She shuffled her hands nervously. She didn't like the idea of wealth. Despite the money her family had, she'd never been comfortable with it. Having money always made you want more money, and once you were on that hamster wheel, there was never enough of it to satisfy. She'd watched her parents spend more time with their money than they had with each other, or even her.

Jakob's face twitched. "I've worked hard for wealth. My work supports my family, and I like having control over my own life, a control that isn’t possible if one is always struggling from paycheck to paycheck to earn a dollar."

His words felt like a dig at her, but there was something else he'd said that was far more alarming. "Your family? Are you married?" She was horrified she hadn't thought to ask. Of course a man like him was married. She'd seen too many couples break up because of infidelity, and she would never allow herself to be a part of that, no matter how much Jakob made her head spin.

"No," Jakob said, taken aback, "I'm not married. I meant my brothers."

"Oh," Bree was surprised at the depth of her relief. She was definitely attracted to Jacob’s scrumptious body and sculpted good-looks. In fact, she hadn't thought it was possible for her to want a man so much, so fast.

The waiter brought champagne in an elegant gold bottle embossed with a lavish golden spade. The bottle looked more expensive than the watch Jakob wore on his wrist. The champagne was poured for them, and Bree read the label.

"It's Armand di Brignac," Jakob said. "Brut gold." He added these last words as if they should mean something to her.

She smiled and sipped the champagne. It was silky and creamy and Bree wanted to get rid of it. She would've rather had wine in a box than this stuff sitting in front of her. She picked up a menu, trying to relieve her mind of its discomfort. The menu prices were like a punch in the jaw. One hundred dollars for soup and salad! Was that for real?

Jakob caught Bree eyeing the bottle of Brignac and held his head high, proud that he'd made the right choice. Wealth and power were always an attractant to the fairer sex, and he possessed both in abundance. "It's one of the best champagnes in the world," Jakob said, intending to entice her further. "Only the finest restaurants stock it. Three thousand a bottle." The last part might have been considered a bit gauche, but Jakob was proud he could afford such luxuries. Soon Bree would have them too.

Bree dropped her menu. Her eyes were narrowed, and her lips were drawn together tightly. "What's wrong?" Jakob asked.

"How much did you say?"

"What?"

"The champagne. How much did you say it costs?"

"Oh," Jakob relaxed. His enticement had done the trick. She was impressed. "Only three thousand. You can buy it cheaper wholesale, but the way the restaurants mark things up..."

Bree snatched her purse from the table and slid her chair back abruptly.

"Are you going to the restroom?" Jakob asked, uncertain. He did not like uncertainty.

"No. I'm leaving," she snapped.

"Leaving?" he stood up now and reached out an arm to stop her. "Why?" He was shocked to find tears in her eyes.

"I knew this was a mistake. Why did you bring me here? Just to show off?"

"Well..." Jakob felt himself stumbling. He wasn't accustomed to such outbursts. "Yes."

Her mouth dropped open and her cheeks grew red. Jakob had no idea what to do. It angered him to feel so clueless.

"This,” she gestured back and forth between herself and him, “Could never work between us. You're everything that I despise." Bree ran out of the restaurant and Jakob stood looking after her, baffled, as patrons at the tables around them pretended not to notice.

Chapter 6

Blake paced the room again. The moon was bright tonight, soon it would be full. No matter. Blake was a master at self-control. Hadn't he proven that time and time again, assisting Jakob with his business ventures?

Mark walked into the room and snapped the light on just as Blake's plan was beginning to shape itself.

"Blake?" Mark asked. He'd come in for some of Jakob's scotch—Jakob allowed them to it whenever they wanted—and found Blake standing in the dark, looking crazed. Mark thought the moon had gotten to him, which it did from time to time to all shifters, and some humans too, or so he was told.

"What?" Blake snapped.

"Err..."

Blake liked Mark most of the time. He did as he was told. Blake wondered how deep his loyalty to Jakob ran.

"Doesn't it upset you?" Blake shouted from his place near the window.

"What?"

"Jakob. Out with his Bree. Blowing the deal with Remy because of her."

Mark shrugged. "He found his mate." It was simple to him. He was happy for Jakob.

"Yes, but does that mean he should choose to disregard us? Forget his pride?"

"Well," Mark said, suddenly uncomfortable. He wasn’t comfortable with where this was going. "The pride has plenty of money. Jakob’s always done right by us."

"Jakob's money," Blake corrected.

"I guess. But, we all share it. We all have our own interests in the companies—"

Blake cut him off with a growl. "How can you defend him? He chose a woman over us, his brothers."

Mark hadn't really thought of that way. When viewed in that light, it was sort of irritating.

Blake saw Mark's doubt and dialed down his outrage, he needed to sound calm and rational. "If he wants to be with his mate, that's fine. I have no desire to stop him. But does he need to neglect his royal duties? There are others amongst us with no mate who would be happy to fill his alpha position as King. That way, Jakob could concentrate on what's truly important to him now—his mate."

Mark thought Blake might have a point. If Jakob didn't want to devote time and effort to leading the pride anymore, someone else could be crowned.

Blake didn't want to push. The seed was planted. He could see it in Mark's eyes. Mark would tell William, and William would tell Tony. The seed would spread quickly.

"Did you come in for scotch?" Blake questioned. Mark nodded. "I'll join you."

***

Bree raced down the sidewalk, her hand waving for a taxi she couldn't afford. The tears stung her eyes, and worse, her dignity. She'd been stupid enough to almost let herself believe there could be something real between her and Jakob. Now, it was obvious she had allowed herself to be blinded by his handsome leonine looks, rather than open her eyes to the reality of who he was as a man. There could never be anything more between them than an awkward pairing of social class.

"Bree, wait!" Jakob was running towards her. He moved so fast and so gracefully, it almost seemed as though he was flying. "Tell me what I did," he said when he reached her side.

She shook her head and turned away. He grasped her shoulder—not too roughly, just hard enough to spin her around—and force her to face him. She closed her eyes, afraid the sight of him would make her forget herself again. Bree did not date. She did not take lovers. She did not have money and did not care to know anyone who did.

Jakob surprised her by wrapping his heavily muscled arms around her. She gasped at how good he felt. The warmth of his body, the strength of his muscles, the nearness of him was like nothing she'd ever felt. It was as though her body was melting into his.

Jakob explored her voluptuous curves beneath his fingertips. He dropped his hands to her waist, and when she didn't protest, her rounded hips. The flesh under her clothes filled his palms and set his heart racing. Her scent was all over him now. He drew it into his nostrils in long, deep breaths and held it, refusing to let it go.

"This won't work," she said. Her voice was muffled, her face buried against his shoulder. "I don't like money."

He started to laugh, then thought better of it. It seemed preposterous to him, but she was serious.

"We shouldn't have come here," he said.

She nodded into his chest. She could hear people walking past them and hoped she and Jakob weren’t drawing too much attention.

"Let's just walk then," Jakob said. His voice was deep and velvety smooth.

When she looked up at him, her eyes were glistening and he longed to kiss her full, ruby lips.

"Walk?"

He nodded and took her hand in his, pulling her along. Stunned, she fell into step beside him. The moon was large and bright, and her hair glowed under it. He liked the short, sassy style she chose. So different from the women of his past.

They walked in silence to a park and strolled over a bridge with a small creek running beneath it. There were no words exchanged, but both were invigorated by the buzz of electricity that ran between them in the starlight. Bree was the one to break the silence.

"I like you," she admitted, though it pained her to do so. "But this can't work."

"Let me try again,” he asked, a little too demandingly, “Tomorrow."

She shook her head. "Your job... your money..."

"Is that all you see when you look at me? Money?"

She bit her lip. Jakob longed to bite it too.

"No," she said. She didn't know what was wrong with her. Normally she would never give a guy like this the time of day. There was no such thing as lasting love, or a love that could overcome obvious differences like social class and values. She knew that. Yet, she hadn't been able to get her mind off of Jakob for longer than two minutes since she’d bumped into him.

"Tomorrow," he said again, forcefully, but not as demandingly as before.

"Maybe if I plan things?" Bree piped up.

"No. I'll plan it." His voice was harder than he'd intended. "It will be perfect. I promise."

Bree wanted to argue, but she was too entranced by his eyes. They were glowing. She thought it was the moonlight at first, but they kept getting brighter and lighter. It was as if glistening golden flecks were floating inside them.

Jakob took a deep breath and forced his eyes back to their normal hue. Now was not the time to reveal his secret. His mate looked so beautiful in the moonlight. Jakob couldn't resist. He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers.

Jakob's lips were almost as hot as his hands as they descended over hers, and she felt as though they would devour her. Bree's mouth opened instinctively. A strange tingling began in her toes, nipping at them like static electricity. The tingling spread to her legs, increasing its strength.  Soon her entire chest was embraced by a heat and an energy not of this world. When the heat moved to her head, it stretched to Jakob like the tentacles of a jellyfish, and a lightning bolt struck Jakob and Bree at the junction where their mouths met.

She drew away, gasping for breath. Jakob's hands trembled. He hadn't known what to expect when they kissed, but this... this was beyond anything he could have imagined.

"Tomorrow," she said, unable to decline. She let her hand graze his cheek. It buzzed against his skin. He nodded his head, prepared to do anything necessary to claim Bree as his Queen.

Chapter 7

Sunday came and went. Bree had completely forgotten that she'd promised to have dinner with her parents, and was duty-bound to cancel her date with Jakob. He suggested going with her to her parents’ house, but there was no way she'd ever let that happen.

Bree was a bit frightened of what was happening to her. She dreaded the time away from him. During the night, she'd dreamt of him again—of their bodies touching, skin against skin. She still hadn't seen his bared chest muscles, but at times they seemed impossibly huge, like under his clothes lurked the body of the Hulk.

Bree and her parents were just sitting down to dinner when the bell rang. Her parents introduced Walter. Walter was a bachelor stockbroker who was worth millions. Bree cringed.  "Nice to meet you," Walter said, taking Bree's hand. It felt cold, and she immediately longed for the heat of Jakob’s touch. She smiled and nodded, but said next to nothing all through dinner.

"Our anniversary is coming up soon," Bree's mother chimed in between mouthfuls of veal.

"Yes. I know," Bree clipped back.

"Will you be coming?" Bree's father asked. She smiled at her father, feeling slightly warmer towards him than her mother. He'd been ill lately, and despite Bree's dislike of their lifestyle, he was still her father.

"Yes," Bree sighed. There was no way around it.

"Wonderful!" Her mother clapped her hands together. "You can attend with Walter."

Bree shot Walter a look. He was beaming stupidly at her.

"No!" Bree said, a little too loudly. Walter's brow furrowed and her mother scowled, which made her look like an octopus. "I mean," Bree gulped. She didn't want to go with anyone, let alone the idiot sitting across from her. "I already have a date."

Bree's mother raised her eyebrows, clearly disbelieving her daughter’s claim. "Who?" she demanded.

"Jakob Moore." Bree regretted it as soon as she said it. Everyone around the table laughed.

"What?" Bree asked, feeling the heat rise in her chest. "Don't you believe I could get a date?"

"Of course," Bree's mother said, "but Jakob Moore?"

"What?" Bree asked again, feeling like the butt of a joke. "Who is Jakob Moore?" That was a great question. One Bree hoped to answer on their date tomorrow.

"Only one of the richest men in the world," her mother said, looking at Bree with pity.

Walter handed Bree his cellphone. A picture of Jakob blazed across a website, the caption above it read: WORLD’S TOP TEN RICHEST ELIGIBLE BACHELORS. Number one was Jakob Moore. She quickly scanned the article and learned that Jakob was not only one of the riches bachelors in the world, but also one of the top ten richest men. Period. It showed a picture of Jakob with a very stern, almost scary looking man standing next to him. She wondered if the man was one the brothers Jakob had spoken of.

"It's a different Jakob Moore," Bree said, handing the phone back to Walter.

***

Monday at work was rough. Bree couldn't believe her dumb, stupid luck. Of all the guys to fall for, why did it have to be one of the richest men in the world?

It's just a crush. It will pass. But she wasn't sure she believed her inner voice this time.

She spent the day at work trying to listen to her clients, but gave up halfway through the day. They were all rehashing the same stuff anyways. He cheated. She cheated. They cheated. It was a great big circle.

At the end of the day Bree rushed home. She was actually eager for the promise of a perfect date with Jakob. She hoped it was a picnic in the park where he'd first kissed her the other night. Or maybe watching old movies at his house and eating popcorn from the same bowl, so their fingers could touch every time they went for more.

When Jakob finally knocked on her door, she was dressed in dark blue jeans and a green blouse that hung low on her chest and made her eyes sparkle.

Jakob's jaw dropped open when he saw her. "You look beautiful," he said, and handed her a large box with a giant bow wrapped around it.

"A present?" she asked, excited.

"Something for tonight." Jakob flashed his perfectly straight, gleaming white teeth in a confident and easy smile, certain he'd gotten things right this time. "Open it."

Bree ripped the box open and her face fell. The dress inside was beautiful, sequined, glittering like diamonds, a Christian Dior, worth at the very least, five thousand dollars.

"I thought we were keeping it casual tonight," Bree choked out, trying not to sound as upset as she felt.

"Yes. But we still need to eat. Would you rather we go to McDonald's?"

"No, but there's a wide range between McDonald's and Christian Dior dresses!"

"You're upset." Jakob was floored.

"Damn right I am. You just don't get it. I... this isn't me." She pushed the dress back towards Jakob. His eyes shimmered with astonishment in the glow of the early evening.

"Well I don't know how I'm supposed to please you if you insist on behaving like a crazy person. Most women would kill for a dress like this."

"I'm not most women." They stood in Bree's hallway, glaring at each other. Bree couldn’t believe his arrogance. "Why would you bring me this after the other night?" she demanded.

"I… I thought that you felt out of place the other night."

Bree narrowed her eyes. "I did."

"Well, if you had a dress that was even finer than what the other women, none of whom were even half as beautiful as you, were wearing, that you'd feel more comfortable. You deserve the very best, Bree. I don't know why you won't allow me give it to you. I don’t understand."

Bree couldn't stop her lips from turning up in a soft smile. No, Jakob didn't understand, but it wasn’t fair to fault him for his ignorance. His intentions were actually sweet in their own way. She couldn't help but be flattered.

Jakob watched her face. Even when he was angry and frustrated with her, his mate was still the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. He relented. "Why don't you tell me where would you like to go tonight?"

Chapter 8

They sat on a bench, packed in like sardines, while the home team hit a baseball into the stands and the crowd roared. Bree stuffed a hot dog into her mouth while Jakob cringed as the man next to him sloshed beer on his Italian leather shoes.

"Would you try to relax?" Bree said.

Jakob sighed. There was no winning with this woman. He gave her Dior, and she wanted hot dogs. He laughed to himself. Of all the females for the fates to pair him with, why a woman so different from himself? Because she challenges you in a way no one else does.

His breath caught in his chest. My god, that was true. In his day to day life, he was surrounded by ‘yes’ men. Even his pride, who he relied on for everything, dared not contradict him. Bree challenged him on everything. She completed a part of his life he hadn't, until now, realized he was missing.

"I love you," he said.

"What?" she screamed against the sudden roar of the crowd.

"I LOVE YOU!"

Bree's jaw dropped. Love? That couldn't be true. They'd just met. They were wrong for each other in every way. The guys behind them snickered. An older woman to Bree's right shoved her hard. Bree looked at her.

"What are ya? Simple or something? Go on and kiss him, honey," the woman said.

Bree laughed, she couldn't help it. This whole thing with Jakob made no sense, but she thought, no she knew, that she was pretty enamored with him too. She leaned towards Jakob and did as the woman suggested.

When her lips landed on his, the world felt right, and all the passion that burned within her, the passion that she had up until now buried deeply within, rose to the surface. She suddenly could not imagine being without this man. Not now, not in a thousand years. She wrapped her arms around him and somewhere a flash went off.

***

The game turned out to be fun. Bree loved baseball, and Jakob, once he relaxed, enjoyed himself too. Bree was right. Not everything they did had to cost a lot of money. He smiled at her across the table in the late-night restaurant she'd insisted upon, picked up his beer mug, and threw another peanut shell on the floor.

"Where'd you ever find this place?" he asked.

She laughed. "It's a pretty popular restaurant. You know, for us low-class folk."

Jakob’s eyes burned into her. "There is nothing low-class about you, Bree."

He was always so intense, Bree found her cheeks flushing and wasn't even quite sure why. "I love you," he said again. The look on his face left no room to doubt his words.

She smiled. She felt the same intensity, but was it… love? "I... I…"

He leaned across the table and kissed her. The electric surge between them felt like a physical hammering in Bree's chest. He took her hand in his and held it tightly. His hands, so large, swallowed hers up. "Marry me."

Bree almost spit out her beer. "What?"

"You heard me," he said. His eyes were incandescent in the low light of the restaurant. Peanuts crunched under feet as people moved around. Bree stared at Jakob, searching his face to see if he was joking. His skin began to glow like a firefly. His eyes burned. She looked around to see if anyone else had noticed.

"Jakob... you're glowing."

His eyes immediately darkened. It was like he'd flicked off some internal light switch. "Sometimes I have a hard time controlling myself around you," he said.

"What's going on?" she asked. "That wasn't just a trick of the light. You really were glowing."

He smiled a crooked smile and cocked his head. "You're right." Bree waited, but he just kept smiling. "You haven't answered my question," he said.

"You haven't answered mine," she replied. Bree felt her nerves jump. Jakob wasn't going to let this go. But marry him? She couldn't... could she?

"I... don't know. I need to think." It sounded kind of lame, but she didn't have anything better.

"What is there to think about? You're mine. Don't you feel it?"

Her pulse throbbed in her chest. "Yes."

"Then what is it?"

"I just... A thousand things," she spat out, exasperated. "I don't believe in marriage. There's no such thing as happily ever after. We only just met. How can you be so certain?" Bree heard the words that she was emitting, and they made sense, they really did but her heart, she knew, was captured.

His eyes were hypnotizing and Bree wondered if they would start to glow again. "Are you ready to go?" he asked.

"Won't you tell me what's going on with you?"

"Yes, but not here."

Jakob paid their bill and they took a cab to the park where they'd first kissed. The night that had started off all wrong, had ended so right. They were back at the very place Bree now loved most, because it would forever remind her of Jakob.

They paused on the bridge where they'd first kissed. "I'm going to show you something," Jakob said. "Don't be afraid.”

The moon was almost full and it shown so brightly against Jakob's skin, he almost looked effervescent. Jakob began undressing. Bree's eyes bulged and she turned her head. "What are you doing?" she said in a loud hissing whisper.

"It's necessary," Jakob replied. She refused to look, but couldn't resist a peek or two. His muscles, already impossibly huge, looked even bigger once his shirt was off. Her eyes trailed over his body, down... down... until they stopped at the mass he usually had hidden in his pants. It was just as large as the rest of him. She blushed and averted her eyes, but then caught that strange glow coming off him again. As she watched, his eyes changed color. Their normal golden brown turned lighter and lighter, almost a yellow gold. His face began to shimmer, and his fingers and toes began to grow.

Bree's jaw dropped open. She started to scream, but then his eyes caught hers and held her. They were different, yet the same. The gentleness... the love he felt for her, it was still there. This was still her Jakob. Hair sprouted all over his body, a magnificent golden mane framing his fierce, proud, leonine face. Jakob dropped to the ground on four large paws before her. She reached out a trembling hand, uncertain if he was in pain. There before her, Jakob, the first richest most eligible bachelor in the world, the man who had asked for her hand in marriage this evening, had changed form from a man to a lion.

Chapter 9

He skulked around her gracefully yet powerfully, as any proud lion might do.

"What the—" Bree's voice failed her. When Jakob sat in front of her, his large face was at eye level with her. She trembled, her knees too weak to move, her voice stuck in her throat. Jakob’s large tongue darted lazily from his mouth and slurped at her cheek. She gasped, then broke into a wide grin.

"Are you kidding me?" she squealed. "You're a freaking werelion? That's awesome!"

Jakob licked her face again. Bree dug her hand into his thick golden fur. His gaze held steady against hers and Bree felt like he was trying to communicate. She closed her eyes and listened. Very faint, like a niggling in the back of her head, she could hear him. Only hear wasn't the right word. Feel. It was like a gentle tugging at the nape of her neck, pulling her senses from her and using them to signal her brain. Jakob wanted to run.

Bree wasn't much of a runner, but she'd do the best she could. "What about your clothes?" she asked. He looked towards a tree and Bree nodded. She gathered them up and placed them behind a tree hidden in shadows. When she turned back, Jakob was sprinting ahead of her.

"Wait for me!" she squealed, and ran after him. He was just out of her range of vision when two men stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

"Hello sexy mama," one man said, his hair long and dark.

"What’s a nice girl like you doing running through parks alone at night?" asked his freckled companion. His hair was red with wild waves of blonde running through it. He was holding something in his hand. It shimmered in the moonlight, and Bree recognized the outline of a knife.

"Make it easy on yourself and do exactly what we say, and you’ll come out of this alive?" the dark man said.

Bree tried to scream, but it caught in her throat. The two men advanced towards her, not wasting time. Bree turned to run. Just then, the lion appeared. His lips drew back, revealing fangs that could puncture a brick.

"What the—" the freckled man said, holding up his knife, “Easy there, fella.”

Jakob had no intention of easing up. The desire to protect his mate was too primal, Jakob leapt at them. The blade of the knife was short, but it dug into Jakob's shoulder as he jumped at the man. That didn’t stop him from digging his teeth into the man's arm. The freckled man raged and flailed.

Bree watched, horrified. There was nothing she could do. She hated feeling helpless. The dark man jumped at Jakob, but when Jakob turned his attention to him the man fled. The freckled man tried to limp away but Jakob ripped his thigh apart and let him drop, then ran after the other one. They were too far off for Bree to see. All she could do was listen—human screams and lion roars. It seemed like an eternity. Please be okay please be okay. Finally, Jakob staggered back into sight. He ran to her, licking her face with his bloodied muzzle, then transformed back into a human.

Bree threw her arms around him, and Jakob held her tight.

***

"Are you sure you're okay?" Bree asked for the thirtieth time.

Jakob was touched by her concern, but assured her that he was fine. She eyed him suspiciously, but had to admit that the wounds he'd suffered were nearly gone. It had only been an hour since the attack.

"What about you?" Jakob asked. She handed him coffee and nuzzled next to him on her couch.

"Me? I'm fine. Thanks to you." She reached out her hand and let it rest in his. He intertwined his fingers with hers.

"You're not at all upset by the shifting?"

"Hell no!" Bree sat up and looked hard at him. "I think it's amazing. I would never have believed it if I hadn't seen it. How did it happen? Were you bitten, like a werewolf?"

Jakob thought Bree looked especially cute when she got excited like this. "No. I wasn't bitten, I was born into it, but my great-great-grandfather was. The trait has since passed down."

"That's amazing! Do your brothers have it to? What about your mom? Can girls be were lionesses?"

"We prefer the term shifter, lion shifter. It's much rarer to find a female shifter who has lion abilities, but not unheard of. My brothers are brothers not in the human sense, but that we all belong to the same pride."

"Can I meet them?"

"Of course. Once we're married, you'll be an important part of our family. You already are, in many ways, but once we are mated, even more so. A King’s mate is almost as important as he is."

“King? What do you mean King? You mean… you’re a… a King?”

Jakob nodded. “Once we’re married, you will be a Queen.”

Bree was quiet. Jakob wished he could read her mind. With his pride, he nearly could. Not always, but when it was important he could pluck their thoughts from their head. Bree's lips formed a slight pout; the red from earlier this evening had faded to a solid pink that Jakob found delicious. He leaned across Bree's couch to taste her but she put one hand on his chest, preventing him.

"I can't marry you," she said. "I mean, maybe... maybe one day." Just referring to marriage as a possibility at all was enough for Bree to hyperventilate, but now he’s saying that marrying him would place her in a position of royalty.

"But why wait? Nothing will change. I'll always love you. Please, don’t say no, at least consider it."

Bree nodded to appease him, but in her heart, she didn't think she could do it. Jakob just didn't get it. He may be her mate, but everything in her life had taught her not to trust love. If he knew her parents, he might feel differently. She bolted upright on the couch and threw her hands out to the side, smacking Jakob's nose.

"Ouch," he said.

"I'm sorry. I just remembered..." The look of horror on her face alarmed Jakob. His shifter senses immediately rushed into overdrive, alert for any sign of danger.

"What is it?" he asked, standing and searching her small apartment.

"I... I told my parents you were my date for their anniversary party." Jakob turned and stared at her, she was almost hyperventilating.

"Of course I am, and I would love to meet your parents," Jakob said, thinking that would calm her.

"Oh God," she moaned, almost like she was sick. "It's gonna be a nightmare."

Chapter 10

Bree's phone started buzzing around nine. She had just walked into her office and was greeting the day with a white chocolate latte and cinnamon roll. She glanced down and saw her mother's phone number. There was no reason to talk to her mother so early in the day. That was the last thing she needed after the shock of last night which hadn’t worn off at all.

Jakob had sat on the couch with her for a while after agreeing to go to her parent's party, but Bree couldn't relax and enjoy herself. Jakob's touch sent sweet murmurs over her arms and up her neck, but the sweetness was tainted by the rising panic in her throat. What was she going to tell her parents? And what was she going to tell Jakob? She'd promised to think about marriage, but she could hardly take the idea seriously.

She sat in her office and waited for her first couple to enter, so she could begin the routine of convincing them they still had a chance at happiness.

***

Jakob stood across from Blake, who faced him with Mark, Randall, and Tony just behind him. Only William seemed to be horrified at the idea Blake had just put forth. The rest of the pride stood back to watch.

"What do you mean you think Jakob should be dethroned?" William's lips drew back and a roar rose in his throat like a thunderstorm.

Jakob was calmer. He'd had all night to think about it. Arriving home from Bree's, his thoughts of her luscious curves and sweet scent had been interrupted by a stray thought from Blake. Jakob had caught it, like plucking a feather out of the air. Blake wanted alpha status. Blake wanted to be King of the pride. Jakob had sensed it coming, and perhaps if he hadn't been so involved with Bree these last few days, he would have been able to prevent it from snowballing to this point.

"You think you're better than me?" Jakob asked, in a cool and even tone, exposing nothing. His eyes, however, dared Blake to cross a line. Jakob stepped closer. Mark and Tony retreated a step. Blake stood his ground, inching his head higher towards the ceiling.

"You should all be expelled for this," William roared and shifted, ripping his clothes so fast they exploded all over the room.

Mark put his hands up in a placating gesture. "We only think Jakob should consider letting Blake rule for a while. We're happy for him that he found his mate, but it's not right to ignore his pride and break the business deal we've all spent months on."

Blake emitted a low roar and stepped towards Jakob. Jakob was ready. He'd always been the fastest, the biggest, it was part of his alpha origin. He shifted in an instant and jumped behind Blake, pushing him to the ground before he could blink. Blake tried to shift, but Jakob forced his will onto him and held the shift at bay, forcing him to remain human. Blake was helpless under Jakob's heavy paws and razor-sharp teeth.

"I was only thinking of the pride," Blake said, his voice muffled by the thick carpet his face was smashed into. He tried to portray himself as calm, but they all heard the speed of his heartbeat as Jakob bared his teeth.

***

Bree's mother called and called, but left no messages. After the seventh call, Bree finally started getting worried. What if something had happened to her father? At lunch, she dialed her mom's cell and had to hold the phone away from her ear when her mom answered.

"Oh, my god Bree! Why didn't you tell me?" she squealed.

Bree's ears rang. "Tell you what?"

"That you're dating the richest man on Earth!"

Bree's heart sank. "You didn't call about Dad?"

"What? No, your father's fine. He's just as excited as I am."

"I did tell you," Bree said. "Sort of."

"Oh, Bree, honey," her mother went on as if she hadn't heard her. "This changes everything. Our anniversary party isn't just for us anymore. It can be a celebration. My daughter and the catch of the century."

"It's not that serious," Bree tried to say.

"That's not how it looks in the picture."

"What picture? Wait a minute, how do you know about all this?"

"Oh, honey it's all over the papers!"

"It is?"

"Of course! You can't date a man like Jakob Moore and not have the news spread. He's the most eligible bachelor in the world. The world."

Bile rose in Bree's throat, stinging it. "Mom, I've gotta go, I'll call you later." She hung up and walked to the corner newsstand. Sure enough, on the front page of The Daily was a picture of her and Jakob, lips locked, the crowd at the baseball stadium behind them.

***

Bree took the rest of the day off, feigning illness. When she pushed Jakob's doorbell, her heart was thudding like a drum. A man with light hair and matching eyes answered. He seemed to know who she was. "Jakob's upstairs," he said. "Please, come on in."

The man seemed nice enough. He gestured for Bree to enter, but she stayed outside. "Can you just tell him I'm here, please?" But the man didn't have to. The second she'd arrived, Jakob had sensed her. He was already at the door.

"Thank you, William," he said, and stepped onto the porch. William closed the door leaving them alone.

"I can't see you anymore," she blurted before Jakob had even spoken. "I'm sorry. This just won't work."

"Bree—"

"No!" Her vision was clouded with tears that ran in trickling rivulets over her cheeks. "I don't want to be a part of your world! Don't you understand? It doesn't matter that I'm your mate. It doesn't matter that I love you. I don't want you."

Jakob had been trying to put his arms around her, now he stepped back. Her eyes were red, and her words burned his insides. "You don't mean that," he said, his anger was not so much at her words as at the fact she had caused him pain.

She nodded, fresh tears winding down her cheeks.

"I do mean it. I don't want you." She said it with more force this time and saw the hurt hit Jakob like a bullet.

"Fine," he growled. "You're nothing but a cowardly female anyway. You're not fit to be my mate. You’re not fit to be Queen of my pride." He regretted the words almost as soon as they were out of his mouth, but it was too late. They hung in the air like a heavy fog.

Bree turned and fled from his doorstep before either of them could plant another dagger.

Chapter 11

Jakob sat in his office listening to the representative from Remy Riders drone on. Outside, the sky was bright. Jakob cringed at it. His heart had swollen like a bruised limb. He could not believe it had been three days now since he last saw Bree. Despite everything that had transpired, he still craved her like a drug.

He pushed her from his mind. His pride was right—no matter how flawed some of Blake's ideas were, the pride came first. He'd forgotten that for a moment when Bree entered his life. Now, he would never forget again. Bree—his mate—had deserted him. Yet, the pride remained. Yes, Blake wanted to rule, but Jakob had put him in his place. Thirty days without his brothers should clear his head. Power struggles were common amongst males in prides, and now that Mark and Tony were back on board, things would be right again.

He turned his eyes back to the droning representative when there was a long pause. Jakob assumed it was his turn to speak and began barking orders.

"I will not entertain another word."

The drone's eyes flickered, uncertain. "But sir," he stammered.

"This is my final offer. Take it or leave it."

William handed the representative a packet. Jakob knew Remy would take it. He'd gone to great lengths to ensure they would. You didn't need spies when you had lion shifter abilities at your fingertips.

The representative opened his mouth as if to speak, then thought better of it. He took the packet, bid them good day, and left.

Jakob stood. He was thirsty. Something sweet and creamy sounded delicious. He paused with his hand on his chair when he realized he was craving one of those damned lattes Bree was always drinking. He sighed. He would force her from his mind by whatever means necessary

"You okay?" William asked.

Jakob nodded. "Of course. They'll take the deal. We'll have their answer by tonight."

William hesitated.

"What?" Jakob roared softly.

"I just... It's gotta be hard losing your mate like that."

Jakob turned away. He did not want to talk about Bree. Not now, not ever. The only way to cut her from his life was to pretend that she did not exist. The problem was that even from miles away, he could still smell her.

"I just think if the guys met her, she'd be more accepted. That's all."

"It's not their acceptance of her I'm concerned with. Bree no longer exists. Is that clear?"

"Yeah, just—"

Jakob turned and threw a look at William that almost made him bite his tongue off. "I did not make you second so that you could question everything I say. There is nothing left to discuss."

"Yes sir. Whatever you say,"

***

Bree's mother wouldn't stop crying. It would've been funny if Bree herself wasn't so miserable.

"B-b-b-but honey, he's such a c-c-c-catch." Bree's mother blew her nose into Bree's ear drum. Why, oh why had she answered her phone? Oh right, because her mom had left fifteen messages, the last of which said her father was at the doctor's. A lie, as usual.

"I told you it wasn't serious," Bree said.

"What about Walter? You can go with him now." Her mother's voice brightened and Bree sighed.

It was true that Bree had said things with Jakob were not serious. She'd said that all along, hadn't she? It's not serious. They're all wrong for each other. But she'd also admitted—at least to herself that she loved him. She'd tasted the beer on his lips and the salt on his tongue and told him she would actually consider marriage.

It was the lion thing.

Of course it was! That made perfect sense. He'd performed some sort of sick werelion mind trick on her to make her think she was falling for him. What an asshole.

But hadn't he saved her life too, that night in the park? "That was just his lion instinct kicking in."

"What?" her mother asked.

Bree realized she was talking out loud. As if she didn't have enough worries, she didn't need her mom to think she was psycho too.

"Nothing. A client just walked in. Gotta go." Bree hung up without waiting for a reply.

There could've been a client, Bree reasoned. She couldn't be on the phone talking to her mom if a client came in unexpected. Except, of course, Bree was at home. She walked to the kitchen and grabbed her half-full mug off the counter where she'd left it. There'd been no clients for the last three days. There'd been no lattes for the last three days. Bree had lain on the couch where she and Jakob had snuggled only days before and settled for some instant coffee given to her at Christmas by a co-worker as a joke. Her body's curves had lost some of their contour, and Bree thought if she didn't get out of the house soon, she'd end up with the twig body of her mother.

Despite her concerns, Bree grabbed her cup of instant coffee, warmed it in the microwave, and plopped back onto the couch flipping channels with the remote. Aptly, the third channel was showing an animated rerun of a classic Disney movie, “The Lion King."

Chapter 12

Blake stood outside the apartment building where Jakob's mate lay on the couch, waiting for her to come down. He'd been waiting since Jakob revoked his status as second in command. There was no reason for the bitch to stay up there so long. He could hear her crying through her window, but whatever pity he might have had was lost against the tyranny enforced on him by Jakob.

Blake was to have no contact with the pride for thirty days. A sort of temporary exile. When he returned, he must submit to the wanI'vammo, an ancient release of dominance. He would essentially be giving up everything about himself that could be considered alpha. It was a heavy thing to ask of a lion. How would human men feel if they were asked to cut their balls off?

The only other option was to remain in exile. At least, that's what Jakob thought. What he failed to realize, however, was that by exiling Blake, he had lost some control over him. Kings could only control their pride. Blake hovered in the chasm between pride and individual. As an individual, he had free will. Free will meant choices. It was not exile or nothing. It was exile or death... just not his death.

***

Bree woke in the morning and forced herself to put on shoes and a shirt. Pants were also not optional in this case, she reminded herself, and slipped on some khakis. She looked in a mirror and decided that she really did look like she'd been sick. Her skin was colorless, her eyes lackluster. Her hair was matted to her face. She didn't want to scare off her clients, so she at least ran a comb through it.

When she got to work, sans latte, her co-workers told her how much better she was looking, which was strange because they hadn't seen her when she was "sick."

Someone handed her a cup of coffee and she inhaled the bitterness of it, letting it refresh her, before moving into her office. From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a man watching her through her window, but when she stepped over for a closer look, he was gone.

"Paranoia's kickin' in. Good thing I got out of the house when I did."

She sat on the plush leather sofa she offered her patients when they came in, and let her body sink back into it. It felt good, like cool hands wrapping around her. See, I can do this. She urged herself on. That's right! I don't need whatshisface. Screw him.

It took her a second to remember why she was so mad with Jakob to begin with, but when his cruel words flashed back— You're not fit to be my mate. Bree knew she'd made the right choice. There was a knock on the door and Mary and Peter Ableman came in. "Hi," she said, glad, for once, to have company. Even the Ablemans.

She watched them a second before realizing something was different about them. They were holding hands. Not just because they were in Bree's office and felt like they had to put on a show, it looked like they actually wanted to clasp their fingers together and cuddle against each other.

"Why don't you guys tell me what's been happening. You look," Bree paused, almost coughing on the word as it sprang from her throat, "happy."

Mary beamed at Peter. "We are." He kissed her gently on the lips and Bree's insides pinged. She turned her head quickly before they could see the nausea roll over her. When she turned so abruptly, she saw the same man she'd seen earlier outside her window. She squinted, trying to make him out, but he was already gone.

"We're in love again," Mary said.

Bree snapped her head back around, annoyance registering in her voice. "What?"

Mary and Peter looked at each other. "We are," Peter said, defending themselves.

"Love? Each other?" Bree knew she should stop the outburst that was frothing over, steeped in the memory of her last few days without Jakob, but couldn't reign it back. "Since when? Last week you two could barely be in the same room. I'm supposed to believe all that changed overnight?"

"Yes," Peter said, daring Bree to defy him. He and Mary clasped hands tighter, Mary eyeing Bree with a new suspicion.

"How?" Bree asked.

Mary spoke up now. Timid to start, her voice rose with each word. "I found a lump in my breast. It turned out to be nothing. But..."

Peter finished the thought "...it made me realize what I might have lost. I just never considered it before. That she might not be here. Might not exist." When he looked back at Bree his eyes were moist.

Bree scoffed, but to them she said, "Well, that's great. I'm happy for you two." Apparently, Bree's outburst hadn't offended them enough to leave. Of course not, Bree reasoned. They were idiots. They thought they were in love? Just wait till the next time Peter cheated on her. Still, their faces glowed with the intensity of a first crush. Whatever they felt tomorrow, today they were very much in love.

***

Blake was tired of watching Bree. She was boring. He didn't understand Jakob's attraction. She was too plump, and her hair was too short. She was everything Blake despised in a woman.

He hummed to himself while he watched her. He didn't have anything better to do. But the more he watched Bree, the less he wanted to. When that loveless couple walked into her office, doting on each other as if their affection were real and not just the probable onset of a drug induced euphoria or too much alcohol, or whatever it was people like them took to make themselves high on love, Blake thought he might actually die from boredom.

He removed himself from Bree's window and the spot he'd nestled into beside a shrub. It didn't matter what he did right now, he'd realized. He was still a part of the pride, and although Jakob's powers over him were limited now that he was in exile, it was enough to stop him before he could finish what he wanted to start. He'd have to fix that before his plan could work.

Chapter 13

Bree arrived home from work more tired than she'd ever felt in her life. Her body ached. Her head hurt. She had a small handful of sleeping pills her mother had given her months ago, when Bree had a tooth pulled. The pain had caused her to have a number of sleepless nights until her mother had slipped the little blue gem inside her palm and told her to take two and call her in the morning.

Bree flipped her head back and swallowed the pill with a bit of water. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

The first dream she had was only slightly scary. A small man in a large room was watching her. As he watched, he smiled. Only his teeth were too long and too gnarled to be human. The man followed Bree into her next dream. She stood in her kitchen, cooking eggs. They smelled delicious, and Bree wondered if she had any hash browns to go with them. She needed her latte. She turned around to grab it off the table and the man with the teeth was there. His teeth grew longer and longer until they reached across the room and slashed Bree's wrists. Blood poured from her in a steady stream, forming rivulets of red around her feet. She began to run.

***

Jakob dropped his scotch and doubled over. Bree! She was in trouble. He could feel it in every fiber of his being—he must protect his mate. The hairs on his neck stood up and grew into a thick dark fur. Jakob shifted without a thought to the separation between them of late. None of that mattered. His mate was in trouble. She was hurt. She was bleeding.

Please God don't let me be too late.

Jakob ran through his house and out the door, a fire under his tail. William watched him run by and didn't ask questions. He'd seen that look on a lion before. Trouble.

Jakob ran down the street, taking the fastest route allowed him. He didn't care if he was seen by motorists. Pedestrians were irrelevant. Besides, it was late. Darkness lingered over the city and the drunks coming out of the bars on a Tuesday night wouldn't be believed if they claimed to have seen a lion running down the street.

He followed Bree's scent, relying on its strength to lead him through shortcuts. He ran down an alley and cut his paws on something sharp. He didn't stop until he reached Bree's building. The door to the building wasn't shut properly. A crack revealed light from inside and it only took a nudge from his nose to push it open all the way. Jakob slipped inside and barreled up the stairs.

Bree's door was locked. Jakob heard her scream from inside. "No! No please! It hurts!" He didn't waste a second. Bree's door stood at the end of a long hallway. Jakob backed down it and ran full speed. The size, weight, and sheer power of his lion was no match for Bree’s door, and when he slammed against it, it opened without protest. He ran into her bedroom and saw her writhing under the covers. He jumped on the bed, ready to rip apart whoever was hurting her, but there was no one.

He sat back on his haunches, watching her. A nightmare. She was having a nightmare. She was safe. Jakob was so relieved, he licked Bree's face and she woke up startled. When her lids fluttered open, she saw a huge lion head staring down at her. She thought she was still dreaming at first, but then she smelled him. Scotch and sweat mingled in the air, acting like an aphrodisiac. "Jakob?"

He transformed in front of her. One second he was a great beast, impossibly huge, fangs exposed. The next, he was her Jakob.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. It was too dark to see all of him, but she knew he was naked. Her heart pounded in her chest.

"I thought you were in trouble," he said, standing at the edge of her bed. She could make out his outline now. The moon shone through the window just enough to highlight his muscles... all his muscles.

"I was dreaming," she said. Then the dream returned, and so did her sobs. "He was killing me," she said through mouthfuls of tears. Jakob was by her side in an instant.

"No one will ever hurt you while I'm here," he said. He was so close. It was impossible not to feel his breath on her face. Bree's own breath flowed out of her in rapid waves, her heart struck thunder in her chest.

"You came here because I had a bad dream?" she whispered. His massive hand reached out and stroked her neck. The covers were off her and Bree's curves glowed full and round as starlight passed through her open curtains.

"I didn't know it was a dream," Jakob said. He felt silly for that. Embarrassed not to have differentiated between a dream and reality, but it was worth it to see Bree again. Her flesh was pale in the dark of her room, and when he touched the smoothness of her leg with tentative fingers she didn't push him away.

"I've missed you," she said. Having him here, so close, it was impossible to deny her feelings. If she'd never seen him again, she might have stood a chance, but the second she opened her eyes she knew it was pointless to deny the truth.

She was his.

Chapter 14

She grew more conscious of his naked body as he sat on her bed. Even this close, he was still too far. She didn't think she could breathe without him nestled against her. There was so much of him to see, so much of him to touch.

"Come here," she said, moving to the middle of the bed to give him room. He slid next to her, his blood running thick and hot in his body. Bree ran her hand up his arm and he shivered.

"I should never have left," she confessed.

"I should never have let you go."

He leaned into her and when their lips met it felt like a sizzling explosion of sensations. His lips were firm but tender, and almost too hot to touch. Bree pressed harder against him, hoping to get burned.

"If we start this," he said, conscious now of his own nudity and of the thin silk nightgown covering Bree's skin, "I don't think I can stop." His voice was deep and velvety with a hint of a growl.

"I don't want you to stop," she whispered back. Her lips were delicate wings floating kisses up to him. He swallowed them like a hungry man swallowing dinner. His hands wrapped around her waist and he half lifted, half swung her around so that her breasts pressed tightly against his chest and her legs spread, one on either side of him. She instinctively wrapped them around his body and felt him harden as her core pressed against him.

"You're not wearing panties," he whispered.

"Neither are you," she teased.

Their kisses grew harder, volatile. The passion they'd both kept at bay over the last week finally surfaced and began to sizzle.

Bree reached a hand out and touched Jakob's chest. She'd imagined this moment. His muscles were everything she'd fantasized about. Even more. They bulged from his chest in thick ripples, forming a solid six pack that she rubbed her face against, inhaling his scent. It was stronger than the ocean, laced with honey and eucalyptus. Her tongue reached out to taste him. Jakob's muscles tightened and she sensed more than saw how much her touch affected him.

His hand slid over her thigh and down her leg. He'd always been a leg man, and Bree's were the best. Her skin was smooth, her thighs were firm and round, not like the stick figures models had these days. Bree was a real woman, and Jakob's appetite for her grew by truckloads as she took his hand and leaned back, leading him back up her legs, over her thighs, and to the soft mound that throbbed between her legs.

"Touch me," she commanded. "Don't stop."

Jakob slid his fingers through her wet folds, feeling her blood pulse as his hand drew small circles left, then right. She closed her eyes and let the fears and frustrations melt away. She had no idea what she'd been so afraid of anyway. She could barely concentrate as Jakob worked his thick fingers around her pussy lips, but she longed to touch him back. She licked her lips and reached out. His cock was even bigger than she'd thought, and for a second she pulled away. Jakob took her hand and brought it back.

"I won't hurt you," he promised.

Bree trailed her hand up and down his erection, tracing each vein that popped out as her fingers explored him. Jakob was conscious of the silk that clung to Bree's body like a wet tissue. The dark pink of her nipples poked through, and Jakob's mouth watered. He leaned into her, tasting her through the fabric. She moaned as he clamped his mouth over her, making her rose petal nubs stand at attention.

Bree's body ached for more of him. The deep buzz that filled the room seemed to emanate from inside them. She pulled off her nightgown and Jakob finally saw the full breasts that had till now only teased him under her clothes.

"Like what you see?" she asked.

Jakob's answer was to lean down and run his tongue over one in a rough lick like the giant cat he was. Her skin was different without the silk of her nightgown, and his tongue rolled over her pink and perfect nipples, sending convulsions of heat up Bree's back. His tongue circled her breasts, then slowly trailed down, over her stomach, past her hips, to find the center between her thighs. Her toes curled as he moved his tongue against the soft folds of her pussy, tasting her in a new place.

"You're perfect," Jakob said. His appetite for her was insatiable. He breathed her in and each lungful of air was like a shot of passion. His body pulsed above hers. He lapped her up, trying to memorize the way her body quivered as his tongue circled her.

Bree fought the impulse to let herself go; it was too soon. Her need to have him inside her was overwhelming. Jakob didn't need her to say it. The way her thighs shook as his tongue slid between them was answer enough. He climbed over her, his face inches from hers. She parted her legs for him, more than ready for his cock to slide in and ease the burn that had grown deep in her belly.

Jakob moved his erection against her, teasing her, letting her feel the fullness of it before thrusting himself inside her and filling her up. Her head tilted back and she moaned at the ceiling. He felt her clench and paused.

"Are you alright," he whispered.

"God, yes," she screamed.

He moved deeper into her, adjusting his tanned arms so that he wouldn't crush her with his weight. She looked up at him and smiled. "So, are we mated now?" she giggled. He laughed with her, but then his blood began to swelter. Bree's back arched. He rocked back and forth, moving slow to let her get use to his size. Her eyes were bright and she licked her lips, leaving a shine on them that somehow made Jakob's cock jump and throb that much harder.

She propped herself onto her elbows and reached around Jakob, putting her hands on his ass, which was as tight and tan as the rest of him. She urged him to move faster. Her sex throbbed as he pulsed more quickly between her legs. Her breasts bounced and Jakob reached out with one hand, stroking them as his hips continued to move against her.

Bree's back tightened and lifted off the bed. Lights from outside flickered on the ceiling above them. She was close, so close... Jakob's pelvis rocked into her with a deep, quaking move that made her dizzy. When he reached down and circled his thumb around her clit, the lights on the ceiling pulled together and formed a massive sun that exploded inside Bree's head.

Jakob felt her go off and followed suit, ripping the covers from the bed as her body spasmed under him. His muscles melted into her and his blood boiled as the combined heat of their bodies almost burned him. Bree felt Jakob ride the lights with her, his heat spreading into her like a steaming cup of coffee. She dug her nails into his back, knowing he could take it. Together, they reached Everest and found an ocean at the top.

They lay limp. Panting. Exhausted. "Now, will you marry me?" he asked.

She laughed. "Now I won't think about killing you every time you ask me that."

Chapter 15

Bree's eyes fluttered under her lids. Jakob watched them, searching her face for any sign of discomfort. Her nightmare had been violent, enough to call him to her, and he was glad of it, but Jakob didn't want her to feel that frightened ever again. She turned onto her side and her eyes slowly opened. She smiled at him.

"Hi," she cooed.

"Hi."

The sun was just coming up and Bree looked at the clock on her nightstand. She still had an hour before she had to get ready for work.

"Breakfast?" Jakob asked, reading her mind. "Latte and eggs? You know what they say, you never truly know someone till you've watched them eat eggs."

Bree giggled. She felt like a school girl. Her body was a little sore from last night, but in a good way—like the burn you feel after a good workout. She was eager to try it all again, but her stomach grumbled under the covers.

Fifteen minutes later Jakob handed her a plate with bacon, eggs, and his special homemade latte. "I didn't even know I had all this food in my fridge," she said. "And since when do you cook?" She sipped the latte and her taste buds exploded. Sugar licked her lips and something unique… (lavender?) slid over her taste buds.

"What is this?" she asked, astonished at the complexity of flavors in a coffee drink.

"The first recipe that popped up on Google," he teased.

Her stomach growled louder and she put the latte down and picked up her fork. Jakob’s eyes never left her. He just continued to stare at her, watching her eat. "How am I doing?" she asked between mouthfuls of egg. "Do I pass the test?"

Jakob nodded, entranced at the way her mouth moved as she chewed. Her whole face was like an enchantment. Her skin like satin, her hair like silk. He was so unbelievably lucky.

"Marry me," he asked again.

Bree's fork paused halfway to her mouth.

"Eat your food," she said. “If you get to watch me eat eggs, I get to watch you.”

"Damn it, Bree," he said, slapping his hand on the counter. She put her fork down and stared at him with angry eyes.

"I love you," she said, "I do. And, I'll never leave you again. But marriage… marriage ruins everything."

Jakob sighed. What was he going to do with this woman?

She hesitated before speaking again. "You'll still come with me to my parents' anniversary party, right?"

"Of course."

She smiled and picked her fork back up. Jakob picked at his food a moment before devouring it. Arguing with Bree made him hungry.

***

Blake was waiting for Jakob and Bree when they stepped outside. Blake could smell their sex on them. He tried to keep the acid from rising out of his stomach. The sun was just beginning to peak when he stepped from the shadows, hands outstretched.

Jakob's ears perked up, alarm registering on his face.

"What is it?" Bree asked. Jakob pushed her behind him. He hadn't sensed Blake's presence, and that was more alarming than his actually being there.

"May I speak?" Blake asked before Jakob could say anything.

"What are you doing here Blake?"

"Did Remy accept the offer?"

"Of course." Bree tried to step around him but Jakob held her back. Something about the man looked familiar.

"What do you want?" Jakob's lips curled back, his feline senses kicking in. He may have been having trouble reading Blake, but Jakob could smell the danger rolling off of him in waves. His instincts as alpha took over and he let a low warning rumble escape his throat. "I told you thirty days, Blake. It hasn't even been five."

"I want to apologize," Blake said. "and beg forgiveness. I should never have crossed you." He hoped he sounded sincere. The woman was staring at him. He thought she would look much better when those lips were torn off her face. Her flesh was ample enough to sink his teeth into and still have leftovers.

"Fine, you've said your apologies. Now go. It's inappropriate for you to be here."

"Is it inappropriate to deliver a gift?"

"What gift?"

"For the lovely lady. Bree, isn't it?"

Bree had stepped back, uncertain of the danger that came with this man that Jakob seemed intent on protecting her from. Now, at the sound of her name, she looked at him with interest. It was the man who'd stood next to Jakob in the photo on the online tabloid Walter had shown her. He'd looked so severe in the photo. The difference was striking. Now, he looked rather sickly. His skin was too pale, his eyes too orange. His hair was long and should have been lustrous, but screamed for a good shampooing and some conditioner. If this was one of Jakob's pride members, he must have been living out in the woods.

Blake stretched his arm out, something gold and delicate dangling from it. "A necklace?" Bree asked, hidden behind Jakob's massive shoulders.

"For you," Blake stepped forward. Jakob looked at the necklace, then let out a deafening roar before springing forward and snatching it from him. He glared at the necklace as if it had spoken something offensive, then threw it so far into the sky it melded with the clouds and Bree lost sight of it. She was surprised at Jakob's reaction. It had looked pretty to her.

People walking past them suddenly scattered in droves, eyeing Blake more so than her or Jakob. To him, they gave a wide berth. He smelled rancid.

"You are not to return to the pride. You are gone. Out."

"Am I?" Blake asked trying to hide his smirk. "Pity," he uttered, then left them alone to their rotting selves.

"Who the hell was that? What was that?" Bree asked.

"An ex-pride member. He's angry with me. Thinks I turned my back on my brothers for you." He saw her eyes widen. "I didn't. I just added you to our circle. I can't believe he..." Jakob realized Bree was going to be a part of all this soon. He might as well explain as best he could. "The necklace he offered to you was the mu'qaD jInaq, a cursed stone. It brings bad luck. I can't believe he thought I wouldn't notice something like that."

"Oh," Bree said, a little freaked out that someone she didn't even know might want to curse her.

"It's nothing to worry about," Jakob said. "He won't be back."

Bree did not fail to notice, however, that Jakob walked her to work and would not leave until he saw her safely inside.

***

Blake walked away, his heart light. Out of the pride. For good. He felt the last of Jakob's control leave him like melted ice. Now he could do whatever he wanted, and Jakob could not stop him.

Chapter 16

Bree's parents opened the door and failed to hide their shock. Her mother started to bow, thought better of it, and switched to a handshake. Halfway through the handshake she changed her mind again and threw her arms around Jakob.

"Mom," Bree said, her cheeks going red. She pulled her mother off Jakob and her father introduced himself.

"Nice to meet you both," Jakob said. "I've heard a lot about you."

Her mother burst into a fit of giggles and grabbed champagne off a tray as a waiter scooted by. She handed it to Jakob, who handed it to Bree. "Thank you," Jakob said, "but ladies first."

Bree's mother nearly swooned. Bree threw Jakob a look that she hoped translated to I'm so sorry, then grabbed her mother's arm and led her away from Jakob. "Come on, Mom. Party guests are waiting."

Her mother turned her head back towards Jakob and reluctantly walked backwards to greet her other guests. Bree's father smiled at Jakob and shrugged. "Women get crazy when you marry them," he said, and shuffled off after his wife.

The house was large, a mid-size mansion, and Bree's parents had decorated it with museum quality taste. Their furniture was richly colored and expensive artwork hung on the walls. For the event, they had hired the best caterers and florists in the city. A table, spread with foie gras, Beluga caviar, and a variety of French cheeses, stood against a backdrop of golden lights and a live orchestra set up on stage in the backyard.

Jakob wandered through the house to the yard. The crowd was made up mostly of wealthy men and women. Jakob knew a few of them, or at least, was acquainted with them. He said hello at the right times, then found a spot by a tree and hunkered down with a drink in his hand.

Bree came up to him a few minutes later.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, kissing him gently on the lips. Jakob saw Bree's mother watching them and decided to put on a little show for her. He pulled Bree into him, so close she felt his arousal growing in his pants. His breath was fire on her skin, then he touched his lips to hers. It was the opposite of a church kiss, this was raw and ragged with lust. His hands ran over Bree's curves, the fullness of her hips rounding out to give him a nice handful that he grabbed onto before delivering one last flick of his tongue over the delicate pink of her lips.

When he looked back at Bree's mom, her jaw was hanging open. Jakob smiled.

A microphone rang out with a loud squeal and Bree's father jumped on stage.

"I'd just like to thank you all for coming to help celebrate this very special day with us. I met my wife thirty years ago at a bar. A friend of mine poked me in the ribs and pointed to her and asked, 'What do you think of her? She's kind of cute. Maybe I should go talk to her.' I told my friend she was the ugliest woman I'd ever seen, then when he went for another beer I went over and talked to her myself."

The crowd chuckled and Bree thought her mother actually looked happy. Bree knew better though. She'd grown up with her parents bickering and hating each other. The root cause was almost always money. It made this whole party seem that much phonier.

She missed something else her father said, but now Bree's mom was on stage with him. She took the microphone and said. "I've always hated this guy." Bree's heart thumped in her chest. Oh God, she's drunk. She's gonna ruin Dad's toast. "Which is probably why our marriage has lasted so long. He challenges me. He won't just tell me what I want to hear. And sometimes, I hate him so much I want to punch his lights out." The crowd was laughing. "Then it passes, and I remember how much I love him. The next time I hate him, I remember the hate is the reason I love him in the first place."

She put the mic down and kissed Bree's father. The crowd clapped, Jakob along with them, but Bree stood confused. What kind of toast was that? Bree unwrapped Jakob's arms from around her waist, pained the slightest bit at having to withdraw from his warmth, and told him she'd be right back.

She wove her way through the crowd towards her mom. "Mom," she said. Her mom grabbed her and pulled her close.

"Oh, god, honey, he's gorgeous. Even better looking than his pictures. And, boy is he into you."

"Mom, you act like you're more excited about Jakob than about your anniversary."

Her mom's brows furrowed. "Don't misunderstand. You know I love your father, but seeing you happy for a change is the best anniversary present a parent could get."

Now it was Bree's turn to furrow her brow. "Do you really love Dad as much as you made it sound just now?"

Bree's mom cocked her head and looked at her with quizzical eyes. "Of course. How can you even ask that?" Her mom sounded offended.

"It's just... growing up, you guys were always fighting and..." but she couldn't finish her thought. Her mom was watching her with wonder.

"Because he doesn't take all the shit from me that other people do? He never has. That's one of the reasons I fell in love with him. But that doesn't mean it doesn't piss me off when he's doing it."

Bree's knees shook. Was it possible she'd been wrong all these years? That her parents really did love each other? That she'd misunderstood?

Bree looked across the yard where Jakob stood, watching her. She smiled back at him, and felt the slightest tingle shoot through her ring finger.

***

Jakob walked Bree to her door and kissed her good night. "Thank you for going with me tonight. I know my family can be a bit much to take."

"I want to come in," Jakob said, kissing her hand, "but if I do, I won't leave, and there's something I need to take care of tonight." Jakob was thinking of Blake. Tonight was the full moon, and Jakob had a bad feeling. He wanted to check on his pride. He knew Blake was nowhere near Bree's— he would have sensed him in an instant—and the pride house was the only other point of concern for him.

Bree was locked in to Jakob's worry. If she'd tried, she could have pried it from his mind easily. They were too connected now not to know each other's feelings. His mouth tantalized her and she licked her lips before kissing him hard. Her hand swung behind his neck, and Jakob gently pulled it off and slipped something onto her finger. She looked down and saw a small square cut diamond on a tarnished silver band. It looked old.

For once, Bree didn't have to fight dizziness and hyperventilation. "It's perfect," Bree said, her pink lips turning up to meet his. Jakob smiled back. Finally, he had gotten something right. He'd had to push aside his natural inclination to go to Tiffany's, and instead had gone to a small antique store that could never compete with the likes of The Silver Vaults in Chancery Lane, London. This was an old mom and pop shop that had been passed down from one generation to another. Nothing was specifically organized, and nothing was terribly expensive. There, in a corner, he'd found this ring. He knew she'd love it.

"So, you'll think about it?" Jakob nudged.

Bree shook her head. "No. I don't need to think anymore. The answer is yes." Her heart went wild in her chest, her face flushing, her thighs burning. Jakob sensed all these things and didn't think he could leave her. It was too difficult. It was not always easy being the ruler of a pride.

"I'll come back later," he said.

"Good." She pressed her core against him, sliding her hand along the bulging muscles of his back. He let his hands trail up her waist and stop at the voluptuous curve of her breasts. His breath was fast and almost as hard as the bulge that rubbed against Bree's lower half.

"Go," she said, pushing him away. "But hurry back."

He adjusted himself in his pants, grunting, and hurried home. The faster he took care of this, the faster he could return.

Bree stepped inside and closed the door. She leaned against it and let her eyes close. She didn't hear anything until it was too late. Blake's hand was already over her mouth, and his claws were already ripping her flesh.

Chapter 17

Jakob paused at the door to his home. His head thumped like a jackhammer and his eyes felt like they wanted to shed blood. He could hardly breathe and fell to the ground just as he crossed the threshold.

Mark was there and called the others, who came running. "I'm fine," Jakob said, standing up and shaking them off. Bree was dreaming again. It must be a terrible nightmare, he thought, for him to feel the sensations he was feeling so strongly. He walked to his study and sank into the deep plush of his favorite chair. The pride followed him in.

"I'm fine," he said. "Christ, I don't need a babysitter. Leave me."

They began walking away when something occurred to him. "Has Blake been here?" He'd specifically told them to keep an eye out for him. They looked around and shrugged.

"He hasn't been here," William said.

Jakob's heart began a marathon in his chest. He closed his eyes and tried to listen for Bree. He picked her out immediately. Her scent was easy to find, her thoughts nearly so. But what he felt couldn't be real. She was definitely dreaming. She had to be. In his mind, he saw her hurt and bleeding, felt her life draining away. He'd only left her a half hour ago. This wasn't possible.

Unless Blake... he reached out his mind to find Blake, and was horrified at the silence. His eyes snapped open, wide and frightened with sudden understanding.

"Oh God," Jakob said, "what have I done?" Jakob had banished Blake. For good. That meant he was no longer Blake's King, no longer his alpha. He had no control over him, and no ability to sense him.

The pride stared at him, uncertain whether they should try to help as Jakob jumped off the chair and ran for the door. He shifted so fast, the others almost missed it. His clothes ripped and scattered through the air. Bree was in trouble. It was no dream this time.

***

Bree was tied to the bed. Her shirt was split open and blood oozed out over her breasts, pooling between them as she whimpered. She called out to Jakob but wasn't sure he heard her. She thought so, but her mind was too rattled with pain. She couldn't concentrate on anything other than the razor claws Blake used to toy with her, cutting slices of her flesh. She prayed for neighbors to hear her, but the walls in this building were thick and Bree had a corner unit with only one set of neighbors, an old couple who both wore hearing aids.

Blake hovered in the background, watching her squirm. This was what he wanted. With Bree gone, Jakob would crumble. No one else in the pride was fit to lead. He would simply step in.

"Why are you doing this?" Bree sobbed. Her right arm was broken. It stretched over her head, tied to a post in her headboard. It shouldn't be able to straighten out enough to reach, given the angle of the protruding bone, but Blake had forced it. It seemed hours or even days had passed since her parents’ party. The ring Jakob had given her less than an hour ago glistened in the light of her room. Blake followed her gaze and smiled at the ring.

"No," she begged as he approached her. His hand snatched the ring off her finger too quickly. His strength, even in human form, was somewhat superhuman like all shifters. She felt her finger crackle and a small splinter of bone poke out of her like a needle.

"Pretty," Blake said, then tossed it into the trash.

He slowly transformed himself into a half-lion for Bree's benefit. It was easy with the moon so full. He'd shut off all the lights in her room, wanting to see the glory of the moonlight. He paced around the room and stopped at the window, looking out. His body stood erect, hair sprouted from him in all directions. Bree didn't think of him as a lion. Lion shifters were not evil, Jakob had explained, they were simply humans with the ability to shift at will. They lived, they died, they loved, just like anyone. Blake was nothing but a monster.

His fingers had reshaped into huge paws, dangling at his sides, and with them, the razor-sharp claws that he traced over Bree's skin, threatening to slice her open once again. She already felt dizzy and wondered how much blood loss the wound to her chest had caused. Guess it's a good thing they're not vampires, she thought, and giggled in her slight delirium.

Blake thought she was laughing at him. He dug one claw deep into her belly and the giggle ran away from her, replaced with wide eyes and a piercing scream. He smiled, satisfied.

Chapter 18

Jakob moved so fast anyone who saw him would have had no choice but to believe he was something otherworldly. He moved through the night, letting the force of the full moon rush through him, filling him with strength and speed. The flesh of his paws pounded the pavement, creating a thud deeper than thunder. It shook the ground as he ran and anyone he passed might have thought there'd just been an earthquake.

Outside Bree's building, Jakob jumped through an open window in the basement and made his way up four flights of stairs to Bree's apartment. The door was open. Jakob entered, cautious. He didn't care if he was injured, but he did not want any more harm to come to Bree. He smelled her from the other room.

"Come in Jakob," Blake's voice rang out.

In the bedroom, on the bed where they'd made love for the first time, lay Bree. She was covered with so much blood Jakob barely recognized her. Her breaths were short and shallow. Her eyes opened and she looked at him. "Jakob," she whispered, before talking became too much.

Jakob shifted out of his lion form and ran to her. He pressed two fingers to her neck and felt her pulse. It wasn't as bad as it looked. Her heart beat was still strong. She'd lost a lot of blood, but they could fix that at a hospital. He kissed her tenderly on the lips and she responded with a murmur. The ties around her wrists left deep purple bruises. Her arm was broken and Jakob quickly undid the ties that bound her to the bed. Her arms lay limp at her sides. At least Blake hadn't tried to mate with her. There was no scent of anything to indicate a sexual act had taken place.

If Blake had been able to read Jakob's thoughts, he would have laughed. The idea of touching Bree disgusted him. Unless he was ripping part of her open with his claws, that is. He wanted her dead, but slowly, painfully.

Jakob turned to Blake, pure hatred in his heart. "Why?"

Blake laughed. Jakob saw red as his anger burned, a raging fire deep in his gut.

"I should be King of the pride," Blake said. "Look what I've done." He gestured to Bree and disgust roiled Jakob's stomach, making him sick. Why hadn't he seen this coming? He'd let his pride down, but worse, he'd let his mate down.

The blood boiled in Jakob's feet, burning him as it rose up his legs, continuing to rise. When the burn hit his chest, it was like hell burning inside him. Jakob shifted back to a lion and pounced upon Blake. Blake wasn't ready. He had wanted to tease Jakob more, make him feel the daggers as he scraped Bree's once smooth and creamy skin. She'd be plagued with scars forever now.

Jakob's teeth sank into Blake's ankle. He snapped out of his reverie and shifted. The bedroom was small, but roomy enough. Jakob and Blake circled each other. The fur that matted itself to Blake's back suddenly rose into a Mohawk as Blake crouched down and cocked his tail, baring fangs to shame a vampire. His ears moved forward, and his eyes were savage. He leapt at Jakob and missed as Jakob quickly skirted his attack.

This wasn't just about death. It was about taking ownership. A new alpha to replace the old. Jakob attacked with the strength of an alpha, the strength of a King, aided by the full moon which made his muscles thicker and the alpha in him stronger. Jakob's rage was primitive and ferocious, and Blake had no idea how to win against it. They danced around each other, snapping and baiting each other to attack.

Blake was impatient. He tried again and again to get to Jakob's throat, only to be swatted aside like nothing more than a marshmallow. When he crouched again and tried for a snap attack to try to rip Jakob's head off, Jakob sliced Blake's front leg with his claws. Blake stepped back, injured, but not so much that he couldn't still win this.

Jakob watched Blake try his stupid snap attacks again and again and fail miserably. It was like playing with a cub.

Bree coughed from the bed and tried to suck in an impossible amount of air, wheezing like an asthma patient. When Jakob turned his head towards her, alarmed, Blake pounced. This time, his crouch and snap landed right on Jakob's hind leg, only Blake did not let go. He pulled on Jakob's leg until the skin began to shred and Jakob felt a 'pop.' He let out a howl and Bree stirred slightly from the bed.

"Jakob?" she muttered. "I don't feel so good." She fell back onto the bed and before Jakob could react, Blake was on top of her. He ripped Bree's throat open and the last of her blood gushed forward.

Jakob got up too late. He ran at Blake, his hind leg hanging on by sinews, and knocked Blake off her chest. Blake fell to the ground, shocked at the sudden outburst of energy from Jakob. He'd thought Jakob was too injured to do anything more than hobble. Jakob still had three strong working legs though, and he used them to pin Blake to the ground. Blake struggled under him, but he was weaker than Jakob, he always had been.

Jakob bared his fangs and lunged at Blake's neck. Blake felt Jakob's teeth sink into him and tried to push him away, but it was no use. The pain wasn't bad; it was the failure that was excruciating. He'd lost. Jakob had proven his rightful place as ruler and that Blake was no alpha.  The puncture wounds were deep and pierced an artery, for that Blake was grateful. Death came faster than he deserved, leaving him little time to drown in the anguish that came with knowing he would die as second best.

Chapter 19

Jakob shook Bree like a scared little boy. She didn't respond. Her heart still beat, but her eyes wouldn't open.

"Bree! Oh, god, no!" Something inside him was slipping away. It was their connection. He clutched her to him, refusing to let her go. Jakob was not a crying man, but the salt of his own tears ran into his mouth and mixed with Bree's blood. His heart felt like daggers were poking at him a hundred times over.

There wasn't time for a doctor. Even if he'd gotten her to one, her throat was ripped apart, shredded, she'd be on machines for the rest of her life. The pain was too much. If he lost Bree now, he might as well have let Blake kill him.

The moon was still out, still full. It was the best time for induction. It was the only way to save her. He had no time to ask her permission, even if she'd been conscious. Another few seconds and she'd be gone. His own blood ran from the wound Blake had inflicted upon his leg, which was already beginning to heal, due to the incredible healing powers of shifters. Jakob took one large finger and ran it over his flowing blood, and brought it to Bree's lips. She did not suckle it, but she did not have to. He put his finger inside her mouth, it was still warm. When his blood was on her tongue he pulled it out.  Jakob transformed back into a lion and nuzzled her wrist before biting it as gently as he could with his fangs. Then he began to lap her wounds with his tongue.

Her blood stained the pink of his tongue a dark berry as he worked first at her neck, where the largest wound was. She tasted sweet and he was cognizant of the fact he was basically drinking her blood, but in a strange way he felt closer to her because of it. Blood was something pure. It could never be tainted by insecurities or the silly façades people placed on themselves in their daily lives. Rich men and poor men alike all bled red. Tasting of the blood was the surest way to know someone.

Bree stirred under him as he lapped at her chest. Her nipples, once a rosy pink, were now a darkened cherry. She was breathing normally again. He had stopped the majority of her blood loss. Now he watched as her body shook. Her limbs convulsed and she looked like she was in great pain, then her eyes opened wide and she let out a roar, the sweetest sound Jakob had ever heard.

Skin grew over the cuts and scratches where Blake had penetrated her. The broken limbs righted themselves. The whole process would take the night to complete. Jakob sat by the window and waited.

***

Bree felt great, which was strange. She'd pretty much died last night. Jakob watched her, afraid she'd be angry, but she was excited.

"So, I'm a wereli… I mean, a lion shifter now?" she sniffed the air and was surprised to find her sense of smell increased three times over.

"Yes."

"But I look the same."

"You are the same, just a slightly different version," Jakob said and relaxed.

"Like an upgrade?" she teased.

Jakob smiled. "I'd say so." She was alive. She was happy. Her scent had increased in his nostrils since her change, sending charges of electricity through his nerves. He wanted her more now than he'd ever thought possible.

She moved through her apartment, testing out her new shifter abilities. Jakob talked her through most of it. She was surprised to find how naturally it came to her. Jakob's mind was linked to hers so that they didn't even need to speak, unless they wanted to. They could literally read each other's thoughts. But if she'd never again heard the deep resonance of Jakob's voice as he crooned her name, she'd have been one sad lioness.

"Let's go running," she said.

Chapter 20

The stadium cheered as Jakob made his way across the baseball diamond. He stood at home plate, William beside him. Special bleachers had been brought out for their guests, and Bree's mom sat in the closest one, bawling. Jacob's hands were sweaty. I'm not nervous. How can I be nervous? This was my idea. That just made his hands sweat even more. Bree had insisted they have no contact the week before their wedding. She had to do "girl things." He had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but it was important to her, so he'd relented.

The last week had been excruciating. It was the first time he’d slept without her since the night Blake had attacked her and left her for dead. Heat stirred in him, deep and primal. There was something else they'd done every night since Blake's attack. Going without Bree's touch for the past week had left him feeling empty. If he'd had to endure it past today, he didn't think he would have survived.

His eyes strayed again and again to the clubhouse opening where Bree was supposed to make her entrance. When she still wasn't there after five minutes, he began to get scared something was wrong. She can take care of herself. He knew that was true, but that didn't stop him from worrying.

When "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" finally started, the crowd stood and Jakob expelled a giant sigh of relief. Bree entered the field. Jakob's jaw dropped. His breath hammered out of his chest, and it was like the first time they'd met all over again.

Bree's dress was far from traditional. She'd shunned Jakob's money while they were dating, but when it came to the wedding, she figured you only live once. Or twice, in Bree's case.

Bree's mom had wanted white, but Bree had wanted something to match the golden flecks she saw in Jakob's eyes whenever he shifted. Her dress dazzled under the lights of the field. The stars overhead—she had insisted on a night game—added their own luster. Her dress was glitter and gold and more Vegas show girl than royal wedding. The train was three feet long and dotted with crystal gems. Her full figure was glued to the glistening satin corset that laced up her back with pearl string. Diamonds hung around her neck. Cameras flashed from every angle. Something in her stomach kicked and she pulled her father's arm, pausing for a moment before they continued down the field.

Jakob looked amazing in his specially tailored suit. He muscles loomed as thick as ever, and when Bree sniffed him her heart began the steady jackhammer that always accompanied his scent. The reverend was dressed as an umpire, and when he started their vows her stomach kicked again. She stooped over slightly and pinched Jakob's arm. He gave her a quizzical look but turned back to the umpire. She had no idea how she'd managed to keep the baby from him. She thought it had something to do with her shifting hormones as the baby grew. She was only two months in, the doctor had told her just days before. She had no idea how to tell Jakob, or what he would think.

They knew each other inside and out now, you'd think it would be easy to find the words. "Jakob, I’m pregnant." But she guessed it was never easy. Her mother cried from the bleachers, and the rest of Jakob's pride let out a giant roar as Jakob placed the ring on her finger. Jakob's lips tantalized her. He put his arms around her and drew her close. When they touched, an avalanche of heat fell between them. They had to hold each other up or risk falling to the ground and shifting in front of two baseball teams, a crowd of onlookers, and their guests.

"May I present Mr. and Mrs. Moore. Yooouu'rre ooouuutaaa heeere!"

The crowd cheered. Between Jakob and Bree's guests, and the actual game that was going on, not a seat was left open. The ball players ran onto the field to finish the seventh inning as Jakob gathered Bree's hand in his massive one and the silent hum of electricity surged between them as it always would.

"So how does it feel to be married?" he asked. "Are you gonna go all psycho on me now? Huh, lioness?"

Bree grinned.

"Maybe." She took a gulp of air. "I hear pregnancy hormones can do that to a woman. Not sure what they'll do to a lioness."

Jakob stopped in his tracks and Bree's heart fluttered. Her breath caught in her chest.

"Bree..." Jakob gasped. "Are you pregnant?"

She nodded, needing air but unable to tell her lungs how to draw it in. Jakob broke into a wide grin and picked her up, spinning her around.

"I love you," he roared.

"I love you back," she roared.

He touched her face with his massive hand that still brought warmth to her skin, and she saw stars as his lips drew close and she inhaled his scent.

THE END

HOME IS WERE MY BEAR IS

STORY DESCRIPTION

Curvy Elie Barner left Hemford, Colorado the moment she graduated high school and hasn’t looked back. Until now. After ten years away, she’s returned to find that Hemford isn’t any bigger than it used to be, and not much has changed…

Not much, that is, except her childhood best friend, Jake Framer.

Jake Framer has obviously changed significantly. He's no longer the rail-thin, scrawny boy Elie remembers. In fact, Jake has developed into a strikingly handsome, heavily-muscled, hulking giant of a man.

But, even though they were inseparable throughout grade school and high school, things between Elie and Jake ended on a rocky note.
That very last hour together, right before Emily was to leave town, Jake asked her to marry him.
And Elie shot him down cold.

Now, 10 years later, Elie thinks she may be ready to settle down. But does Jake still harbor any feelings for his once best friend who so harshly rejected his heart?

And what will happen to Elie’s feelings for Jake once she discovers that he isn’t quite the man he used to be—he’s not even the human that he used to be?

Hint: There’s nothing a small mountain town loves quite like a bear hunt

Chapter One

Elie’s old Outback rocked to a stop at the curb. Her parent’s house was just as she recalled. It sat there, at the end of the lane, waiting like a dinner plate left out for one lonely straggler. She’d always been that straggler. How many plates had been wrapped in Saran-wrap and lovingly set aside for her while she ran around town? How many nights had she wandered in still smelling like “Mr. Jock” or “Motorcycle Boy’s” cologne in high school?

The engine clucked gently as she rolled forward again towards her driveway.

Hemford was the same as she remembered, if a little dirtier. The mountain air felt glorious, though, after the smog of Denver, and she’d tugged her long hair loose and rolled down the window an hour after the hills started rising underneath her wheels. Her curvy frame had gotten a few appreciative stares when she stopped for gas at the Texaco, dressed in clean jeans, a low-cut top, and her aviators. She couldn’t blame the small-town loggers and good ol’ boys for staring at a fresh face—and everything attached to it—when Hemford was so isolated, so… untouchable.

Everything was green. The Rockies were lovely this time of year, early summer, when life came roaring back in rivers and new things flourished. Elie wondered if she was one of those new things as she joggled open the car door. It creaked so loudly, Grandma Earline in the city cemetery twelve blocks away probably heard it.

There was a minor vortex of motion in the thick bushes to the left of the neat little clapboard house, and Elie nearly had a heart attack when a big running form on four legs came shooting like a ski-ball toward her car.

“Jasper!” she laughed. The big German shepherd was gyrating with delight. It turns out, dogs really don’t ever forget. He whuffed and whined, licking her hands and trying to get his tongue to her face. Elie crouched down and hugged him, burying her face in his fur. His muzzle had grown speckled and gray. Guiltily, she wondered what he thought of her long absence.

“Oh, Elie! I thought I heard a car.”

She looked up, and her heart twisted.

“Hi, Mom,” Elie stood up and met her mother halfway across the lawn. They hugged. Like Hemford’s stagnation, mom was the same, and that felt right.

Alison Barner beamed at her daughter; Elie always hoped she’d look like her mother, when the time came. Strong and sprightly, and a little taller than Elie herself, Alison was in fine health. She was dressed in casual denim and a button-front shirt with the sleeves rolled up. She’d tried to brush them off, but bits of dirt still clung here and there where she’d clearly been digging in the garden. Nothing could have been lovelier. Even the lines of silver threading through her dark hair were glorious, under the hail of spring sunlight.

“Well, let’s get you inside.” Alison—Alie—opened the back door of the Outback and helped her daughter truck in her big duffel bag. Elie let her, knowing she’d lose if she tried to argue, picking up her smaller bag and her school bag. If there was one thing Elie and Alison shared in eerie communion, it was a need to feel capable—a need to feel needed.

“How’s school?”

Elie gulped.

“I passed my finals,” Elie replied. Of course she did. She knew how the school rituals went, how to pass the tests. Most of her classmates were nineteen-year-olds. She was pushing thirty.

“When do you pick classes for next semester?” Alison was asking these questions cheerfully over her shoulder as she and Elie eased through the narrow entry hall. Her parents had bantered about widening the entry into a full foyer for as long as Elie could remember—so far, it was still just barely three feet across, a perpetual reminder to eat your greens and sometimes skip dessert.

“I’d be a returning student, so I can pick them out in a couple weeks.”

To this, Elie’s mother didn’t respond. It wasn’t accidental. A deaf man could have heard the falter in Elie’s suddenly-thin voice. But, her mother didn’t push.

“When’s Dad coming home?” Elie changed the subject without grace and without excuse, as she walked the duffel bag up the stairs in the back of the kitchen, but her mother let it happen.

“He’s taking Friday off so we can go out together, so he thought he’d stay a little later today. He’s loving the foreman work. It was getting tough, the last few years, working the trucks. This is much easier on his knee.”

Elie glanced up at the wall over the kitchen table. There hung a pictured history of the Barner family, including a military portrait of her father. It was taken when he retired from the Air Force. His knee had been smashed—a stupid industrial accident in the carrier—and he’d been honorably discharged. The Force would send him a monthly check until the day he died, but Brent Barner wasn’t fond of early retirement and had leapt into the logging mill, which welcomed him as a fellow Hemford-ite and mountain son.

Logging. That’s what everyone in Hemford did. Even Elie had considered it, before she ran away to France with her high school girlfriends.

Her mother came back down the stairs. “I made up the bed in your old room. Well… it’s a guest room, now, but I hope it’ll still feel like home.”

Elie smiled. It already felt like home.

Jasper wagged his tail loudly against the doorframe and sat practically on her feet, gazing up at her admiringly.

The silence spun outward like a wild spool of thread, and Elie twisted her lips.

“How long were you thinking of staying?” Alison asked finally.

The air became oppressive. Such an innocent, justified question, but it shot a jolt of adrenaline through Elie.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. Why did she sound so defensive?

“You can stay as long as you like,” Alison replied putting her hands on her hips. “We aren’t going to make you sign a lease.”

“I know that,” Elie snapped irritably. Why did she still sound so defensive?!

Alison didn’t reply. She walked across the kitchen to the fridge and pulled out a pitcher of lemonade.

“Out comes the lemonade,” Elie muttered.

“Elinor Barner,” Alison’s voice was a warning and command in one, “It was a simple question.”

It was a simple question, one that Elie had no idea how to answer. Twenty-eight years old, and she couldn’t admit out loud that she still didn’t know what the hell to do with her life. She’d run to France because she didn’t know. She’d tried New York because she didn’t know. She’d tried University of Denver because she didn’t know. And with thirty looming near, the feeling that she still didn’t know was suffocating.

“I’m going to go out for a walk.” Elie turned on her heel and let herself out. Jasper didn’t follow. He just hung his head and looked at Alison as if to ask, ‘How long this time?’

Chapter Two

Ringer’s Bar was about the only kind of bar that you had any hope of finding in the middle of America in a town whose population couldn’t even fill Disney World. It was the town bar—as in, the only bar in the town. Elie walked into it knowing what she would find, and happy to find it, dark anonymity, muffled under the sound of a stereo bellowing Hank Jr. and Willy Nelson.

The multitude of single men was a little off-putting. She’d just as soon be alone, but with one bar in town, options were slim.

The narrow panel-top bar itself was probably the safest place to in the joint to plant herself. She took an isolated corner stool and slipped her dusty jacket over the back. Dusty? It was dusty, wasn’t it? She batted some of it off, but it hardly bothered her. Dusty felt… safe. Like home.

“Just a Coors, thanks,” she nodded at the bartender, an ashen old biker-babe who’d apparently lost track of the years that had flown by—the years since she could wear a tank top without a bra. But, she smiled and waved back and reached for the cooler.

As she waited, Elie turned her mother’s question over in her mind. From a distance, it didn’t seem so threatening. She wasn’t any closer to an answer, but at least it wasn’t choking her.

Truthfully, Elie was thinking about staying in Hemford for longer than a few weeks. Maybe longer than a few months. Maybe she wasn’t going back to Denver.

She accepted her Coors with a sigh.

“Haven’t seen you around here.”

“Wish that had continued,” she answered, taking a swig.

She turned to study the intruder to her private brooding. Now, he wasn’t too bad, tall and handsome, with a molded jaw and striking eyes. She’d seen that look in the eyes of men time and time again, and she propped her chin on her elbow.

Elie had chosen a seat that was awkwardly placed for someone to try and shimmy closer, but try he did. In the dim light, his hair might have been sandy brown—but then, it might also have been blonde. Nothing like a dimly-lit, smoky bar to alter perception. There was no mistaking his slim legs in those tight jeans, or the soft leather of his jacket.

“Are you new in town?” he asked. He made himself comfortable in the seat next to hers. Elie laughed.

“Are you? I’ve never seen you before.”

He shrugged. “A little. So, you’ve been to Hemford before?” He waved at the bartender; she nodded and reached for a glass.

“I was born here.” Elie sipped off her beer and admired his profile. He had nice shoulders, and certainly a face worth taking a second look at. Plus, he didn’t look like a mill-worker, so it was unlikely he’d inadvertently blab to her father at work tomorrow.

He stuck out a hand. “I’m Bryan.”

“Elie.” She took his hand and tried to shake it, but he pulled it to his lips and kissed it in a gallant gesture that seemed completely out of place and time. She laughed again. He was entertaining, at least. He probably lived in a mobile home, but that wasn’t a terrible thing in Hemford.

They passed a half hour, then another hour. Elie wasn’t about to get sloshed hanging out with a total stranger. At least, she hadn’t planned to, but having this total stranger take off his jacket so he could show her the tattoo on his shoulder hadn’t been part of the plan, either. Elie made it through two and a half bottles of Coors before she realized the turn of her stomach wasn’t the butterflies of infatuation. Bleh—she’d never been able to drink more than a couple.

“Hey, I don’t live far from here.”

Here it was. Elie grinned at him knowingly.

“Did you need a ride?” she teased.

“You could call it that.” He smiled half a smile and his hand found her thigh. “Not the kind that needs a car, though. Actually, I thought you might want a ride—my bike’s out front.”

The hand on her thigh pressed upward an inch, then another. He was leaning quite close now, and he smelled like Axe and dust. Elie could already envision her lips on his ear, his jaw, his neck…

She leaned over and whispered into his ear seductively, “You know, I think I could use one.”

It was twilight outside; that was early mountain sunset. It wouldn’t get truly dark for another couple hours. Elie and Bryan, arm-in-arm, crossed the dirt parking lot to where his motorcycle sat waiting. Elie could count the things she knew about motorcycles on one hand, but she knew a Harley when she saw one. It sat low to the ground with a classy black and orange tank, and Bryan climbed on first.

It had been years since Elie had ridden a motorcycle, but riding passenger was not difficult to figure out. She swung a leg over the seat and snugged comfortably against Bryan’s back. He was just as slim and hard as his jeans suggested, and she hoped he didn’t live too far away.

“Hey! Mosley!”

Bryan froze and turned, reluctantly, towards the shout.

Elie looked, too. Approaching the bike were two men, and in the half-light it was a minute before she recognized the flat-brimmed hats and the shine of badges at their waists. Sheriff’s department.

“Uh… how can I help you boys tonight?”

“Don’t give us that ‘boys’ song and dance, Mosley.” One was quite old, and one was catching up in years. The elder threw a droll and unimpressed glare at Bryan over his motorcycle windshield. “We have some questions for you. We’d like you to come along with us, now.”

It wasn’t a question. Elie sat there awkwardly, thinking about a good way to excuse herself. A second ago, she’d been gleefully planning an evening with a hot biker. Now, things were starting to look like the opening minutes on an episode of Cops.

“Is there a problem?”

Uh-oh. Elie knew a dodging question when she heard it—it takes a thief to know one, and all that.

“There ain’t no reason to get into details here in front of your, uh, lady, we just need you to come with us to the station, Mosley,” the younger deputy added in amiably. His thumbs were hooked casually in his belt. Elie tried to find their squad car, but then she remembered this wasn’t Denver. Their squad car was a pickup with a light rack rigged up on top and the Sheriff’s department seal decal on each door.

Even getting shaken down by the cops was a quaint experience here.

Quaint, but not the least bit attractive. Elie slid off the bike. “I’ll catch you later,” she waved as she walked away. Bryan looked like he wanted to argue, but the deputies didn’t, so Elie was left in peace to stride off into the pre-darkness.

She was shaking a little. Maybe it was colder than she’d realized. She hugged her jacket closer and walked on, away from the main street, away from the lights. There were a good many residential neighborhoods here, and her parents was perhaps a mile off. It wasn’t far at all to walk, even in the dark.

Chapter Three

A friendly ghost moon was turning overhead, growing fuller. Elie loved this time of year. It smelled fresh and new and clean, and if she knew Colorado weather, there would be rain in the next few days, even though the purple sky was, at present, clear. She’d taken a turn through a dim section of road that wound through a break in the houses. Silhouetted forest surrounded her.

Bryan Mosley, eh. She huffed, not sure if she was annoyed or relieved. She recognized that name, now. He was Amanda Mosley’s little brother, a few years younger than Elie herself. New in town? No, he wasn’t, not even a little. Unless he’d left, as she had, and recently returned.

That was more likely. Elie didn’t remember him owning a motorcycle back then, but he had only been a freshman when she skipped town for an extended post-grad year. People made all sorts of crazy changes in a decade.

“His lady,” Elie muttered.

Something rustled to her left.

Elie looked, but kept walking. It was probably a deer or a rabbit or something. Or a dog. Or a—

Something big and shaggy stood up between the trees.

“Oh, holy Jesus,” Elie breathed.

A bear?! This close to town? Goddamned kids throwing their trash out windows. Bears raiding trash cans right in people’s yards had never been a problem when Elie was in high school. She backed further down the road, but it didn’t move. It was just sitting there, watching her.

“Don’t mind me,” she murmured as she went. “Just a human out for a stroll. Don’t let me interrupt your evening. Thaaaat’s right, just sit right there, I’ll be out of your fur in a minute or two. Just gonna keeeeep walking this way…”

She could see its rounded ears flopping about. If she wasn’t mistaken, its head actually tilted a little, as if curious.

It was big, with big, hunched shoulders. Oh Jesus, Mary and Joseph, it was a grizzly, for sure. What did they say? Try to outrun a grizzly by running downhill? Hadn’t she read somewhere that they could run 50 miles an hour? Wouldn’t they just run faster downhill?

“Nice bear,” Elie babbled. It hadn’t moved yet, and she was putting some respectable distance between them. “Nice bear… happy bear… calm bear… bear that doesn’t like to eat humans… yucky…”

There was a sharp whuff sound and the bear’s silhouetted head twitched. It was so like one of Jasper’s snorts that Elie giggled a little, or perhaps that was merely hysteria.

Following the whuff was a much less familiar sound, as the bear opened its maw and bellowed a short warning.

“N-Nice bear.” Elie’s voice had diminished to a flickering squeak. They said don’t run from a bear. You can’t outrun a bear. But there was a house just down the road, the first of the cheery-lit homes that lined the street between here and the Barner’s. The bear hadn’t even gotten off its haunches, yet.

She could make it.

Elie broke into a sprint. She’d never been much of a runner, a girl her size and shape had too much bounce and jiggle to run. Still, something primal and all-encompassing came rushing to the surface when the need to not die arose, and it pushed strength, surely more than she possessed naturally, into her legs, into her heart, into her lungs that were hissing air in and out. The house ran up the meet her in what seemed like no time.

“Help!” she threw herself at the door frantically. “Bear! There’s a bear! Please!”

The house’s occupants opened their doors, baffled but helpful, an older couple whose evening TV time had been interrupted. The man cradled a shotgun as he peered out beyond the safe halo of his front porch. He was dressed like a country grandpa, his flannel shirt tucked into jeans that nearly reached his breastbone. His blustering wife in her frilly nightdress (she’d obviously expected an early evening) pulled Elie inside.

The bear hadn’t tried to give chase, but when her geriatric saviors offered to drive Elie the rest of the way home. She accepted happily.

Chapter Four

Sunlight poured into Elie’s room and stung her eyes. She pulled the quilt up, grumbling.

This wasn’t her bed back in her Denver apartment. Where was she? She groped around for whoever she’d followed home.

Wait.

Elie sat up. She was in her old room in her parent’s house, although it didn’t look the way it had when she’d lived here. She’d sort of wondered, over the years, what her parents’ life might have looked like if she hadn’t existed, if her younger brother Jim had been their only child. Jim had followed his father into the Air Force. He was somewhere in South Asia, now.

This room, that had been hers growing up, was sunny and open. The thick curtains she’d preferred, were replaced with lacy white ones, which were pretty and feminine but did little to block out the sun from the eyes of late-sleepers. The wood bed frame was the same, and the desk and bookshelves. But everything was bright white and light blue now.

Elie got out of bed and stretched for the ceiling. Her ripped Avenged Sevenfold concert t-shirt looked out of place.

Scratching her scalp, the air was so dry up here, and ruffling her already-dismal brown hair, Elie shuffled towards the window. There was the back yard, a series of flower beds, just like always, and the birch trees—

Elie opened the window. Frowning, she reached out and plucked an envelope from the branches that reached towards her sill. It had her name on it.

Her frown turned into a smile as she read the note.

Heard you were back in town, didn’t know your phone number. Hang out in the usual place?

Still smiling, Elie set the note on the desk and headed for the shower.

Hidden Lake is possibly the most liberally and generally applied moniker of lakes the world over, but to Elie, Hemford’s Hidden Lake was the only one worth mentioning. It was a tiny lake, really, nestled in a bowl up here in the Rockies, fed by watershed, and emptying into a river at the east end. But, it glittered like magic in the afternoon sun as she approached through the trees. It had always been magical, secretive, intimate.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t private today. Someone was already loitering around at the shore. She huffed, not much to do about it. It was a public lake, after all.

The stranger saw her through the trees and waved.

Elie frowned. “Jake?!”

“Hey! I was starting to worry you hadn’t found my note.” He walked up the shore to meet her as Elie stared open-mouthed.

Jake Framer was probably the oldest friend she had. In the world of Elie Barner’s love ‘em and leave ‘em, this didn’t amount to what it should, but he’d never seemed to hold her wanderlust against her. That was probably why she had always wandered on back down to this lakeshore to meet him, skip some rocks, drink their parents’ alcohol, and dream about the future. Though small and skinny, Jake hadn’t once bent to whims of others, where Elie had a tendency to try anything and everything and decide whether it was a good idea later. He was the rock to her ocean waves.

Of course, back then, Elie wouldn’t have used a rock as a metaphor. He’d been thin as a waif at their graduation. The man who stood across from her now, smiling through a day’s growth of dark stubble and blinking in the sun, hardly resembled the kid he’d once been. Jake’s shoulders and chest had swelled tenfold, although his slim waist hadn’t budged. Veins stood out along the bulging muscles of his arms, and if the way his jeans fit was any indication, he hadn’t skipped leg day in five or six years.

Elie was trying to wrap her head around the transformation when he opened his arms and wrapped her in a great, crushing hug, effortlessly picking her up off the ground as though she weighed nothing. She wanted to laugh, but it came out as a gasp. Wow, he was as strong as he looked.

“It’s good to see you, Elie” His smile was… exactly as it had always been. Elie smiled back and threw her arms around his neck.

“What have they been feeding you, growth hormones? I leave for a few years, and you turn into the Incredible Hulk!”

His muscles, and there were oh-so-many, tensed under her, and Elie slipped away from him cautiously. Jake’s smile had withered a little, but it came back in a flash and he shrugged.

“Working the logging routes, it does a body good.”

“Maybe I should go work with you,” she elbowed him in the waist and shivered. He was solid as a tree. “My core could use some tightening.”

To her surprise and delight, he grabbed her soft waist with both hands speculatively. He squeezed, like he was playing an accordion, and Elie wriggled madly. She’d never tolerated tickling from another man, but Jake had been allowed this privilege since grade school.

“Still ticklish? I thought people grew out of that,” he teased as they headed back down to the lakefront. There was a wood table by the water, so old that Lewis and Clark might have also used it as a picnic spot, and upon it stood a little Coleman cooler.

“Never too early for a beer,” Elie agreed. Jake pulled out two bottles and handed one over. Elie looked at the label in surprise. “A connoisseur, are we? Where’d you find something that isn’t called ‘Coors’ or ‘Budweiser’ all the way up here?”

“I wander into the city now and then,” he admitted, popping the twist-top and taking a sip. “I have to move up my monthly bath and change into my Sunday underwear, but it’s worth the trouble.” He had to finish his sentence through chuckles, because Elie had stuck her tongue out at him at the mention of once-monthly personal hygiene.

They sat on the table-top, feet propped on the bench, just like always. Perfect. It was a little cold out, but it wouldn’t be right any other way.

“How long have you been working at the mill?”

“Some five—six years,” he corrected himself.

Elie looked out over the lake. “You didn’t start right after graduation?”

Jake shook his head. His dark reddish hair was a little shaggy, and still damp from a recent washing. “I actually tried city life for a couple years. Didn’t work out. Moved back here and they took me on at the mill right away.”

Elie hummed, nodding. “How’s your mom? I bet she didn’t much care for you moving back.”

“Oh… Mom passed away a few years ago.”

Elie turned to Jake, shocked. “How?” Jake’s spitfire mother had been a runner since her teens, and she loved to hike and exercise. It seemed impossible, wrong even, that she should be anything less than happy and healthy and still growing tomatoes in pots on her back porch. The thought of her gone…

Jake took another swallow of his craft brew, the look on his face suggested he’d suddenly lost the taste for it. “Bear attack,” he murmured.

“I saw a bear! Just down the street from my parents last night.” Elie couldn’t believe it. Gwen Framer? Killed? It was too awful.

Jake nodded. “They pass through. Fish and Game figure it’s just a stray male that wanders through town looking through people’s trash. They tried to hunt it, but they lost the trail.”

“Jesus,” Elie exhaled, raising her eyebrows. She took another drink. “I’m so sorry to hear about your mom, Jake. I… I wish I’d been here for you.”

Jake didn’t answer at first, when he did, his reply was strange. “It’s better you weren’t, Elie.”

It was such a strange thing to say, even for a lonely soul like Jake, but Elie was so shocked at the thought—the unwelcome scene unfolding in her mind—that Jake’s bizarre comment flew over her dark hair right off into the forest, unnoticed. Having spent a thousand afternoons, both gorgeous and gloomy, on the Framer’s back porch, it was too easy to see it happen. Gwen stepping out for a hike through the woods behind her house, as she often did. In Elie’s mind, she was wearing her powder-blue windbreaker and a baseball cap, and out of the woods… a shape, hunch-shouldered and growling…

For some reason, Elie’s mind kept filling in the image of bright red blood on the powder blue windbreaker. She closed her eyes and held her beer bottle against her head. Her forehead felt hotter out than it had a moment ago.

Jake reached out and slung his arm over her shoulder. His arm was so much heavier than it used to be, thick, sinewy and corded. Suddenly, not just Elie’s forehead, but her entire body really was hotter. Elie felt the heat flush up her neck as she let herself be pulled against Jake’s side.

“It was years ago,” he said softly. “It gets easier as time goes on.”

He propped his chin on her head. Elie let him. It was comfortable and easy and snug, as if, like matching socks or puzzle pieces, they had been made together and meant to fit perfectly.

Her eyes fell on the powerful legs in his jeans, and her memory began to unfold another scene, just before she left for France, just after graduation. The last afternoon on the Framer’s back porch, in the middle of a June rain. A skinny kid named Jake, her very best friend in the world, had taken a hell of a chance and tried to make her stay.

He’d kissed her. At the time, Elie had been cruelly amused, childishly. Things had looked so different when she was eighteen, and Jake Framer from Hemford was far below what she had her sights set on.

The warm ease that had been soothing through her turned cold abruptly. Elie pulled away. The guilt was so sharp she felt like she must be bleeding inside.

Jake didn’t cling. He let her move away without protest. Like her mother, he’d learned long ago not to try and hold her when it was time for her to leave.

“So,” he took another drink. “I heard you met Bryan Mosley last night.”

“Yeah. So?” Was it always guilt that made even the most innocent questions seem like attacks? Elie didn’t know. Neither did she know any other way to respond except… defensively.

“He’s a sorry son of a bitch,” Jake said suddenly.

Elie stood up, her hackles raised. “Why?” Because he won’t work at the mill like everyone else, or because you’re jealous?

There was no answer. Elie waited for what felt like an hour, wondering if he still had feelings for her. Was that why he was bad-mouthing Bryan? Jake just sat there like a blank page and sipped his beer.

“Well, why?” she repeated. Her voice had jumped a few pitches, and she sounded less defensive and more silly. That, more than anything, irritated her.

Through all this, Jake Framer just sat there, untouchable, the sun shooting through holes in the tree boughs overhead to glint red specks from his auburn hair. His great arms and shoulders were relaxed, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Elie could see them flex easily though the fabric of his t-shirt.

“I’m going home, Jake.” Without another word, Elie stood up and stormed away. What the hell was she so angry about? Was it that Jake had warned her away from another man, or that Jake hadn’t seemed the least bit jealous? It was a little bit of relief, actually, not to have to fight. She should know by now how to handle discomfort without leaning on argument tactics, but Elie didn’t really. At least Jake didn’t slide down that slippery slope.

Halfway home, she realized she was still clutching the craft beer bottle in one hand. She considered chucking it at a tree, but, instead, Elie sipped it thoughtfully, balefully, as she walked.

In Denver, you’d get an interview with the city police it you walked around with an open beer down public streets. That was another great thing—the chances of being picked up over open containers in Hemford was blessedly low.

Chapter Five

“I hate being wrong,” Elie muttered.

Five days had passed since she’d driven past the city limit sign, and beautiful spring-turning-summer days, at that. Elie had spent the last two rooting passively through the usual tracks to procure some sort of summer work. A babysitter. A gardener. A part-time sales clerk. She didn’t need the money, per se, but she hated sitting around. There was the impatience in her, again, stirring her to frantic motion.

Even in a tiny town like Hemford, there was work to be had somewhere, Elie reasoned. The mill would take her for some job or other. What with her father as a foreman, of course they would, but relying on that connection left an unpleasant taste in her mouth. Elie was beginning to think, however, that she wasn’t going to have a choice. She’d been stumbling over more rumors and gossip than job offers.

“I’d be careful about that Mosley boy, if I were you.” This advice came from Mrs. Fredricks, an elderly manager at the local Jo-Ann fabrics. Of course Mrs. Fredricks knew Elie, remembered her from years back, and wished she had an opening at the store, but she just hired Sue Maybury’s youngest girl, so sorry. However, even in the absence of a job opportunity, advice was always free-flowing.

“He don’t work, I swear it, I don’t know where his money comes from,” Mrs. Fredericks sighed, shaking her head. She looked like a sewing-and-crafting version of Mrs. Claus. She looked up at Elie meaningfully. “He goes down to town and I think you can imagine what sort of trouble he gets into down there, especially after he got that poor Langland girl pregnant. Oh, but you didn’t hear that from me. Poor girl—she lives down in a mobile home on third, now…”

Elie peered over the steering wheel. If it was, in fact, a mobile home, it hadn’t been mobile in a long while. The lattice siding around the wheels was broken down, and Elie could clearly see tires that looked a century old beneath. The whole place looked a little sideways.

The trailer door was open, as if the place were abandoned, but Elie had seen someone passing back and forth in the cool shadows within. A toddler played out front, in shorts and a tiny Ironman t-shirt. The clothes looked like the only things within twenty yards that had been purchased new in the last year.

Elie put her Outback into reverse. There was nothing more she wanted to see here. True, she had no proof except the gobbling chatter of a few ladies around town, but she knew. There were men, and then there were Bryan Mosleys. Elie had seen enough of both to know.

Before the car could move, an adult came down the steps of the trailer, a baby on her hip. She stopped beside the toddler, looking down at him in something akin to fondness. No, on closer inspection, she just looked dazed. Her faded sundress rippled listlessly in the breeze.

Elie recognized Brittany Langland right away, mostly because in almost ten years, she’d tried to look exactly as she had in high school. Brit was even thinner now than she had been then, and her pretty face was worn by the rough years, like sandpaper. Thick, dark circles hung under her eyelids and her skin had taken on a yellowish pallor.

Thank God for birth control, Elie thought sadly.

At that moment, Brittany seemed to notice Elie’s car, but she was too far away to do anything but stare; she seemed too exhausted to even try. She reached up and tucked a lock of blonde hair, light brown roots quite visible at her scalp, behind her ear.

Her arm was skeletal, but that wasn’t what Elie noticed. It was the dots. The splotches of blackened scars against the once-tan skin.

“So, that’s how it is,” Elie whispered out loud. She took her foot off the brake and fled without a backward glance.

Elie’d never done meth, but she knew what she was looking at when the signs were that obvious. Just like she knew the Bryan Mosleys of the world.

Chapter Six

You were right about that bastard. I thought I’d make it up to you, tonight around ten. I’ll get the beer, this time.

Elie looked at herself in the mirror again.

Too much make-up? Not enough make-up? She turned her head, trying to catch different light at different angles. After scrapping the project and starting over twice, she elected to just go with light accentuation. She doubted Jake was into contouring. And it didn’t feel right, meeting up for a lakeside, midnight rendezvous with a quart of foundation and a bottle of mascara on. It felt unnatural and feigned.

That wasn’t what Elie wanted. No, no. What did she want? What she wanted was to apologize. Yes, apologize for yelling at Jake, maybe even apologize for... the other thing. She paled a little thinking about that conversation, but if she was going to run from it forever, she might as well go pull up a trailer right next to Brittany Langland’s. Running blindly always led to sharp cliffs—or at least, it always had in Elie’s experience.

Why was she even putting make-up on? Elie hesitated again, this time with her hand on her bedroom door. Was this supposed to be a date? She looked down at her clothes. Jeans and a blouse and tennis shoes.

Should she dress up? With what? She hadn’t exactly brought an array of outfits to choose from.

No, she decided. Firmly, she opened the bedroom door and shut it behind herself. This wasn’t a date. This was old friends meeting up and one offering the other a well-deserved apology. Because, meeting a chiseled, smiling, panty-meltingly hot lumberjack in the middle of the night on a lakeside, so near a full moon, might look like a date, but it wasn’t.

Alison and Brent Barner were in the living room on the couch, watching a movie. It looked like Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, but then, all Roger’s and Hammerstein’s pictures looked pretty much the same to Elie.

“Going out?” Alison asked sleepily. She was reclining on one end of the sofa, against her husband’s shoulder. Brent was already snoozing against the back of the couch.

Elie opened the fridge and pulled out the six-pack of Narwhal she’d driven down the mountain to retrieve. “I’ll be back later,” she answered. She swallowed back the desire, the need, to avoid the question. Why did that happen? She waved to her mother and ducked out the door before any further inquiries could be made.

Out on the front lawn, the silver darkness of a clear night wrapped her for just a moment before the motion light over the garage caught her and flooded the driveway. She hurried to her Outback. The darkness seemed thicker when the light was blinding her, and beyond its safe halo, Elie couldn’t help but see bear-shaped shadows. Maybe she was just used to the city lights.

Had Jake ever gotten used to them? She thought about Jake in the city, and couldn’t quite picture it. He seemed so at home out in the country, and he himself had admitted that living among the hustle hadn’t really worked out for him. No, she couldn’t see him in anything but boots and jeans… or out of them…

Elie started the Outback and reversed out of the driveway, hopeful that of all the people to have a real adult friendship—or anything—with, Jake Framer would be the one.

It was a long walk, but a short drive to Hidden Lake, and Elie found herself there too soon. She parked the car, shut off the ignition, and waited, blinking in the glow of her gas and RPM gage while the battery idled in accessory. She looked at the pack of Narwhal stout and wondered if he’d tried it before.

Jake wasn’t here yet. The gravel parking lot was empty. Elie hoped he’d found her note.

Sudden doubt gripped her by the throat, and she pushed her hair, black in the darkness, off of her face nervously. She’d left the note right on his front door, wedged into the door knob. He couldn’t possibly have missed it, could he?

The two minutes of accessory ran out, and the Outback flipped into dark silence. Elie didn’t turn it back on. She could wait a little longer in peace and quiet.

It dawned on her that Jake could have walked. The house his parents had left him was even closer to this lake than the Barner’s. The more she thought about it, the more certain it seemed. To a big strong man like him, a mile’s walk was nothing.

Elie got out of the car, now worried that he, also, had been waiting and had decided to leave. She still hadn’t exchanged numbers with him, and it seemed stupid to have forgotten now that she was wandering around in the night hoping he’d be here. The forest was blacker than oil and full of soft sounds as she went. At a half-jog, she reached the picnic area, where the park lights had shut off an hour ago. Moonlight filled the space instead, the world was white and black, and the lake lapped with the wind against the rocks of the shore.

Jake wasn’t there, and Elie didn’t really like to wait alone. She set the Narwhal on the ancient table and paced.

What was taking so long?

She should’ve gotten his number. She should have driven by his house first, before running out here. Rubbing her temples, Elie looked out at the water, listened to it. With a sigh, she ruefully wished she was a better planner.

“Ten more minutes,” she promised herself. It was already gaining on ten thirty.

To keep herself occupied, Elie walked down towards the water. The picnic table was about twenty feet from the shore, and she was soon standing with the toes of her tennis shoes just at the lake’s edge. She turned and began to circle a little ways around.

Would it be so bad, living here? Slow, yes, but bad? Elie twisted her lips and tried to answer, but her thoughts were sliced off mid-kilter as a shuffling, huffing murmur came into earshot.

Elie muttered something highly unladylike when she recognized the sounds. It was too late to even back away. The bear was coming right this way! It hadn’t seen her—she hoped—but it was already sloughing along through the brush faster than she could run away from easily.

There was no time. Through the dense, black trees, Elie could make out its shape, fur ruffling and undulating as it hurtled towards her. She was backing up, backing up… should she try to swim away? Would the water cover her scent? Elie took deep, slow, quiet breaths, watching the bear approach.

What do you do when a bear is rushing towards you?

It was coming for the lake. Coming for a drink, or whatever bears did. It still hadn’t seen her, and Elie was still retreating as slowly and quietly as possible.

The bear was slowing now, too, as if it had been running to get here and was drained upon arrival. Its last few steps toward the water dwindled to a crawl. Elie’s ears were hyper-aware of the sounds her shoes made as her weight filled each step, displaced rocks, shoved dirt aside…

Out in the open moonlight, the bear was enormous. She’d never seen one so big—was this Old Ironhide, or some monster grizzly out of folklore? He was the size of a Goddamn pickup truck. The narrow strip of soil between tree and lake couldn’t even contain him. He stood with his front paws dipped in water.

She hadn’t made very much progress. Elie was trying to step lightly and make as little noise as possible, but the bear was still, as if it were listening…

…and then he started twitching.

How else to describe it? Fur and bone started a mad dance under the moon, and Elie watched in horror and fascination. The bear’s skin seemed to be berserking, trying to leap off its bones in defiant rebellion. A terrible, guttural roar of unmistakable pain bellowed out of the bear’s jaws. It rippled through Elie’s flesh, and she knew the panic of a deer before the hunter.

Then, the bear started shrinking. It was like origami folding, smaller, smaller. Fur shed out like wisps of smoke, and white skin caught the moonlight.

The ground came up to meet her. Elie’s legs folded as if they had no bones. It wouldn’t be fair to suggest Elie Barner was the fainting type, but her head did spin in a whooshing whirl of moon and lake. Her skin felt cold, and the night wind seemed to rush through her clothes as if they weren’t there.

There was no longer a bear, or any trace of one. Elie blinked several times, trying to persuade her eyes to see clearly. Time seemed to be skipping like a scratched CD. The bare human form that lay where the bear had stood was moving in slow jumps—first sitting up, waist deep in the lake. Then struggling to his feet, water streaming down thick, muscular legs. He was standing in the shallows, now, looking this way, and Elie was beginning to accept that this was, in fact, a hallucination.

“Elie?”

She shook her head. If she accepted that the hallucination talked to her, she might be convinced it was real, and that was a dangerous road to tread.

But, it was walking closer, and worst of all, Elie thought she recognized the voice. “Elie?! Jesus! What—? How long have you been here?!”

Her mouth moved—Elie wasn’t really sure what she planned to say, since not even one comprehensible scrap of a response was forthcoming. She held up a hand in a vague gesture toward the lake, where the bear had withered into… Jake.

Naked as the day he was born, Jake splashed towards her to the shore. This was one shock after another. Under normal circumstances, Elie might have avoided looking blatantly at the prominent areas of Jake’s body that were normally hugged into old denim, but staring at his dangling junk seemed like the least abnormal part of the evening.

“Elie! God almighty—get up, you’re scaring the hell outta me.”

Scaring the hell out of him? Elie giggled as Jake helped her to her feet.

Jake seemed to realize suddenly that he was naked, and turned Elie back towards the picnic table. He helped her with an arm around her waist at first, and when her feet stumbled over the first patch of loose dirt and she almost toppled forward, he picked her up without ceremony and carried her.

“Stay here,” he muttered, and propped her on the picnic table. “Just breathe for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

Elie turned to watch him storm away, the moon casting white speckles across his shoulders, buttocks, and legs through the branches.

Alone again, she swayed a bit and waited for the feeling to come back to her hands and feet. They were tingling. She wondered idly if she was having a stroke, or a heart attack. Twenty-seven was too young for cardiac distress, wasn’t it?

Crunching gravel sounded in hurried steps behind her, and she looked back to see Jake returning, dressed now in jeans with his shirt and his boots in one hand. His face was difficult to read in the shadows, but he didn’t look happy. Muscles in his chest and arms were tense and veins stood out all the way up his neck.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in a hiss.

“Meeting… you.” Elie nudged the six-pack that was sitting beside her on the table. This seemed to be the first Jake had taken notice of it. His shoulders slumped at once, and he dug his fingers through his hair.

“Oh, man… Look, Elie, what did you see? What all did you see?”

Elie was coming back to her senses, and looked up at him warily. “Nothing. I didn’t see anything. Nothing at all.”

He leveled a glare at her. “Don’t tell me you didn’t see anything. What, did you faint because an owl spooked you?”

“I’m terribly afraid of them, you know.”

“Elie!” Jake threw down his boots and clothes and spun away in frustration. He made a sound, something between a shout and a… growl. He spun back towards her. She’d never seen him so upset, not since that day eons ago when a dumb high school girl had shot down a hopeful more-than-friend. “This isn’t a joke!”

“That’s disappointing. I’ve been hoping I might be on hidden camera.”

“Not funny,” Jake snapped. “God knows, if anyone caught this on camera… I’d be… I’d be in some… government lab, or somewhere like that.”

Elie swallowed past her dry throat and looked at him, really looked at him, the curve of his great shoulders, the fear and pain clearly on his face.

Invisible walls seemed to tilt inward like a funhouse, mirrored realities bouncing each other back. This was impossible. Elie sprung to her feet. Adrenaline pumped through her veins. The world jolted but didn’t spin, not quite—she still had to reach out and catch a hand on Jake’s arm. His skin was clammy, like the aftermath of a fever. The hairs on his arms were coarse over the hardness of the corded muscles beneath.

“Elie, don’t—”

“Just leave me be!” Elie shouted, snatching her arm away.

He raised both hands in a peaceful gesture. “I’m not going to hurt you, Elie.”

Elie stalked away. She took long strides, devouring the distance to her car. This was impossible. This was impossible.

Afraid to find Jake following, Elie didn’t look back until she was unlocking the driver-side door. The moon was higher now and she could see him still standing shirtless next to the picnic table. She stood there staring. It wasn’t too late. She could still close the car door, go back to him, try to figure out whether she or just the entire situation was completely crazy.

They could still sit together in the moonlight and drink and remember what it was to be blameless. Hopeful. Free.

But the next second, she opened the door and dove into the safety of that which was real and solid and safe.

Chapter Seven

Two days later, Elie was still hiding under a quilt in her old bedroom, snug and safe as a princess in a tower, but nervous as a hen in a fox den. Clouds had rolled in without rain, just hanging overhead like a shroud over the Rockies, holding in heat and bringing up the humidity. With it came a persistent chill. Alison and Brent Barner had chalked up Elie’s behavior to a bit of a cold and she didn’t correct them.

She’d lived in a hazy state of half-waking, half-sleeping since the night before last. It played over and over again, the events between hearing the bear through the forest on the dark lakeshore and getting back into her car. Fur and teeth vanishing into human form. Jake stumbling out of the lake towards her. Him naked in the moonlight; there was no reason to pretend she wasn’t partial to that one, but it couldn’t blot out the insanity of the entire affair.

People didn’t turn into bears. Bears didn’t turn into people.

There was a knock on the front door downstairs. Elie’s heart flip-flopped in her chest and she held very still, waiting.

Murmured voices. One of them, certainly her mother’s. The other… Elie already knew, but wanted to hope it wasn’t…

Should she have warned her parents? Elie hadn’t told them a thing, but what if…

There were steps tracking through the house, and Alison politely commenting on Elie’s feeling under the weather and how she hadn’t left her room all day, or all yesterday. They were at the stairs!

It would be stupid to hide under the bed, right? Elie briefly considered the closet, but the stairs were too short for that and before she could have dashed across the room, Elie’s door creaked opened and Alison poked her head in.

“Hey… how are you feeling? Better?”

Elie peered over the quilt and shook her head.

Alison nodded. “Well, you have a visitor here, so I’ll send him up with some soup.”

“No! Mom—!” But, Alison had already closed the door coyly. Elie grumbled and sat up. At least she was already clothed. Now she had to wait for the hum of the microwave to end in a piercing beep, knowing that when the sound wafted upstairs, someone else would soon be coming with it.

Dismally, Elie waited, head under the quilt. Maybe if he came up and she ignored him, he’d just go away.

She heard the door creak open.

Her room was carpeted, and she could barely hear his footsteps as he crossed the floor, but she knew he was there. In her mind’s eye, Elie could see him, standing over her bed, looking down at the quilt with those soft brown eyes. He’d be wearing jeans again, like he always did, and a button-down shirt, or maybe a t-shirt that squeezed his big arms and oak-tree chest.

He sneezed and something sniffing and cold poked rudely under her quilt.

“Goddammit, Jasper!” Elie pushed his nose away, giggling. The shepherd grew more interested as she began to move, and his whole face came to see her in her blanket sanctuary. “Your nose is freezing! Get out of here!” Elie sat up and threw the quilt back.

Jake was standing, leaning against the open doorway, a bowl of soup in one hand. Elie froze, even as Jasper clambered into bed with her and settled absurdly across her lap. At thirteen years old, he still thought he was puppy-sized.

“Glad to see you’re doing ok,” Jake offered, not moving from the doorway.

Elie nodded stiffly. “Yeah, I’m ok. Just a little cough and cold. Not a big deal.”

He was staring an awfully long time, and the intensity of his eyes on her was making Elie woozy. Maybe she really was sick.

“Did—did you need something?” she asked innocently.

Jake shut the door.

“You know why I’m here,” he said quietly. He set the soup down on her bedside table and stood by her, just as Elie had imagined him doing minutes ago. The trace of stubble on his jaw was darker than his hair, black rather than dark brown. “I need to know what you saw.”

Elie swallowed dryly. “Here,” she patted the bed beside her. “Sit…”

He didn’t seem to want to at first. His discomfort at Elie’s suggestion was practically visible in the air. But sit, he did.

“I saw…” Elie paused, reflecting. Her voice was so quiet a lurker under the bed wouldn’t have been able to hear it. Elie didn’t want to speak too loudly, in case Alison got it into her head to ‘accidentally’ overhear their conversation. Scalding hot men visiting their daughter in bed was too much for any mother to resist listening in on, if the opportunity came. She looked him in the eye. “Jake… I saw a bear. It changed into a human. That human was… you.”

Jake let out a long, slow breath, as if he’d been holding it.

“Have you told anyone else?” he asked in a calm so forced, his jaw twitched.

Elie shook her head. “No, and I’m not going to. You’re right. If anyone knew, you’d end up in a—a FBI quarantine cell or a laboratory or something. Either that, or I’d end up in a mental hospital. I don’t plan on telling anyone. Ever.”

And Elie meant it, with all her heart. She of all people knew what it was to want to keep your business to yourself.

Jake didn’t seem to have an answer. Maybe he hadn’t expected such easy compliance. He turned out to be wearing the t-shirt today, and Elie watched as his shoulders lowered, bit by bit, and his face relaxed.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he murmured finally.

Elie was feeling more and more acutely how little clothing she had on. She pulled the quilt around her waist a little tighter, but it didn’t help the lack of a bra, which was obvious through her old, ragged Five Finger Death Punch tee. Elie winced. Maybe she should buy a couple blouses, or at least shirts that didn’t have holes worn in them.

“So why did you show up as a bear if you didn’t want me to see?” Elie asked, adjusting her arms and trying to keep the shirt from clinging to the round swell of her breasts too tightly.

“What?”

“Well, you knew I was going to be there. Why the hell did you come as a bear if you didn’t want me to know?”

He frowned. “Why would I’ve known you were going to be there?”

“Because I left you a note,” Elie explained in disbelief. “I left it right on your front door.”

“I never use my front door, haven’t in years. My workshop is in the garage, so I always just go in through there.”

Elie rolled her eyes, more at herself than anything. Of course, he never used his front door. Of course, anything that could go wrong had gone wrong. Stupid Murphy’s Law.

But now, there was one more topic, one more elephant in the room, and Elie badly wanted to begin the subject, if only she could do it gently. Well, she’d try, anyway.

“Jake?” He looked up at her, and Elie wondered if she really wanted to ask this next question. She figured she’d better do it quickly before she changed her mind. “Can you tell me? I mean, what was that I saw? What happens to you?”

He looked at her thoughtfully. Elie thought this was better, at least, than him storming out at the audacity of her question.

“You know,” he said, “you’re the only person I ever talked to about it at all.”

Elie smiled a bit. “I might as well know the whole story.”

Jake reached over and patted Jasper’s head. The dog quivered a little and whined, but didn’t resist the attention.

“Jasper’s a real good dog,” Jake pointed out. “Most dogs—especially the little ones—don’t like me much now.”

Elie snorted. “Jasper’s a wuss. Someone could come in to rob the house and murder us all and he’d either hide under the table or wag his tail and beg for treats.”

Jake laughed. He had seemed to relax almost back to his normal self. “Well. I… actually I’d like to tell you, to tell someone what happened. Been carrying it too long, you know…

“It was the year I got to the city. I went because, well, I wanted to try something new. You’d run off to France, and I thought that was way too far for me, but just down the mountain wasn’t too much. I could still drive home when I wanted—just an hour or so away. Was tough in the winter, though.”

“Is that when you learned about craft beer?” Elie teased.

“Yep, that, and some other things,” Jake sighed. “I was working with a construction company building apartments, and I would go out with the guys. Especially a couple guys that just sort of… They were different, that’s all. I didn’t really understand it, but they would talk to me now and then, and they seemed like nice fellas.”

“Seemed?”

“Seemed,” Jake agreed. “Now, my Mom didn’t raise an idiot, I don’t sucker up to anybody just because they pat me on the back or buy me a beer. But I hung out with these two. They liked to hike and camp, see, and well that was just perfect for me.”

Jake twisted his mouth in reminiscence. Shook his head. “I figure when you saw me the other night, you probably felt just like I did the first time I saw them change. Except when they turned, they came after me. I thought they were going to tear me apart, but they just wanted to infect me. They made me like them, and those bastards didn’t even ask.”

His fists were clenched on his knees. Elie couldn’t blame him. “If it’d been me, I’d’ve torn their damn heads off,” Elie snapped indignantly. She forgot, for a moment, about being quiet. “They didn’t think that maybe they should ask you first?”

“If they told me beforehand, they said, they couldn’t have been sure I wouldn’t give them away,” Jake explained in a low voice. “And I told them to do some things and go some places that I won’t repeat. Of course, I worked with them, but they never said a damned word to me after that. In fact, they steered clear of me altogether. I learned later that they hadn’t expected my bear to be so large, or so dominant. They were actually scared of me.

“I felt like I was going crazy, though, Elie. I don’t know how to explain it. You know those people who hear voices in their head? I felt like that. For weeks. Not like a voice, but like… like a… a feeling like something else was in my head following me. Stalking me. Every day I was terrified some men in black suits were gonna show up and ask me kindly to please come along with them, they have some questions, and so on.

“I know I was paranoid, and it affected my entire life. They started to notice it at the jobsite. Eventually, I turned in my two weeks. I was afraid I was gonna end up getting someone killed. My boss didn’t say anything—he was a great guy, Mack—but I knew he was relieved I quit. I’d been drinking a lot, since alcohol seemed to keep the urge to change at bay somewhat. I’d shown up to work drunk twice. He would’ve had to fire me soon, and he hated to put a guy out of work.

“I hadn’t changed, because I was doing everything I could to stop it. I thought if I got out of the city, I’d calm down and it might go away, but I’d seen the other two change and deep down I knew it was coming. I knew I needed to be away from people when it did.”

He fell silent. Jasper wriggled a bit and Elie scratched his big ears.

“So, you came home,” Elie murmured.

Jake nodded and Elie caught his eyes drop to the holes in her thin t-shirt. They stayed for a long moment before he was looking her in the eye again. “I’ve been here ever since.”

Elie nodded and found herself patting him on the leg, like a pal. She winced.

To her shock, Jake set a hand over hers. “I actually like it there, if it’s all the same.”

Heat flew up into Elie’s face and neck, but she didn’t remove her hand. Jake was grinning, just a little now, just enough to make her heart race. His thigh under her fingers tightened and flexed as he moved nearer, leaned closer.

His beard brushed her neck first, and Elie shivered pleasantly. Then, she felt his lips, hot and hard and relentless. They kissed and teased a line from her collarbones to her ear.

“Jake…” Was that utterance meant to be halting or sighing? Elie’s voice breathed out in a mix of the two. Jake paused and looked up at her.

When he paused, she was able think clearly, and she took her hand from his thigh. Jake frowned.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. He drew away quickly, as if afraid she might lash out. “I could just smell… I mean, I could smell the arousal on you, and I thought—” He skidded to a halt and just stared at the floor, jaw working tensely. His eyes didn’t meet hers.

Elie didn’t know what to say. She was feeling far too many things to do justice with a one-word reply. Confusion, lust, yes there was lust, and fear. Could he smell fear, too?

“Look, Jake, I won’t tell your secret,” she whispered. “But I… This is all… I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

Jasper lifted his head and looked at her balefully, but Elie couldn’t stop now. “This is a lot to take in,” she went on, pulling the quilt up over her chest. “Hell, are you going to make me one, too?”

Jake’s mouth dropped open. He looked up at her. “It’s not the clap!” he hissed back. “It’s not sexually transmitted.”

Elie gasped. Jake’s brown eyes had melted into glimmering gold, like amber. He saw her reaction and looked away quickly. She was shaking. Was he going to change? Here? Now?

“Look, I’m sorry, but I don’t think… I don’t think I can do this.”

Jake stood abruptly. “That’s fine. That’s just fine. First, I wasn’t enough for you. Now, I’m too much.” He crossed the room in three long steps and whipped the door open.

Elie felt certain that she should stop him, but she didn’t. Jasper looked up at her and whined some more, and downstairs, she heard Jake making excuses to her mother for his sudden departure before the final closing of the front door. It seemed to echo, and for a while, no other sound broke the silence.

Chapter Eight

Elie didn’t stay in bed long after Jake left. Her internal cocktail of emotions was stirring like a blender and Elie had to get up and move.

“Want to go for a walk, Jasper?”

At the word ‘walk’, Jasper’s huge ears perked up. Since he had his own dog door and was allowed to roam around their yard freely, one would think he wouldn’t care so much about going for a walk, but in a second or two he was leaping off the bed like an Olympic diver and skittering to the stairs.

“Slow down!” Alison called after him as he raced through the kitchen. Elie could hear his nails clicking on the tile.

“I’m taking Jasper out,” Elie told her as she followed the shepherd’s trail through the house.

Alison looked like she wanted to ask about Jake. There was a short list of possible topics that could have given Elie’s mother that boiling-over-in-curiosity look on her face. But, Elie shook her head and walked quickly to the front entry, where Jasper’s leash hung on the coat rack.

“Go for walk?” Elie teased him as he spun circles in the tiny space. She clamped a hand on his collar and tried to clip the leash on. “Walk? You wanna go walk?”

Jasper whined and quivered and growled sadly, as if begging her to stop this terrible game and just open the door already. Elie laughed and clipped his leash on.

Just as she was straightening, there was a knock on the door. Jasper howled—more out of excitement than alarm—almost directly into Elie’s ear. Shocked, she clapped a hand over it too late. The sound still echoed through the bones of her inner ear as if they were stuck repeating it over and over.

Half-deaf, she stuck her eye to the peephole. If it was Jake, she wasn’t answering.

It wasn’t Jake. Hesitantly, Elie turned the knob and swung the door open to see Bryan Mosley standing on her front porch. He’d dressed down today, jeans and boots and a white t-shirt. It wasn’t too cold, so no motorcycle jacket. In fact, it seemed he’d walked here, since his motorcycle was nowhere to be seen out front.

“What do you want?” she grunted. Standing here, now, all Elie could see when looking at this idiot was Brittany Langland and her skeleton-skinny meth-scarred arms.

Bryan shrugged. Her change in attitude since he’d last seen her clearly confused him, but he didn’t comment on it. “Just thought you might want to catch a bite or a drink or something.”

Elie stepped out with Jasper, who sniffed Bryan, whined, and moved to Elie’s other side. “I’m taking the dog for a walk, if you want to come along,” she offered gruffly.

“Sounds good,” he replied, and fell into step with her. Elie headed off down the street with Jasper on one side and Bryan on the other.

“What’ve you been up to?” he tried to start conversation.

“Hanging around. Trying to find a job. Meeting old friends, that sort of thing,” Elie replied noncommittally.

Bryan nodded, hands in his pockets. “Anyone I know?”

“Probably not.”

They lapsed into awkward silence. Elie was simmering. She’d almost slept with this asshole, this user, this baby-daddy. She should have told him to get lost. Why did she invite him along to walk with her? Stupid. Damn stupid.

“Sorry about the other night,” he offered finally. They were moving away from the houses, now, towards the spot where Elie had seen that grizzly a few nights prior. Nervously, she checked again, but it wasn’t as dark now and she could make out the underbrush pretty well. No bear, at least not at the moment.

And, oddly, it occurred to her that maybe that hadn’t been a bear. It had been Jake. What a strange, serendipitous coincidence.

“What? Oh, the other night,” Elie shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. They probably just wanted to ask you about the meth, right?”

She raised her eyebrows and waited, and Elie was not disappointed. Bryan seemed to be half-listening, because it took him about fifteen full seconds before he stopped short and looked at her with a very unfriendly edge.

“What did you say?”

“You’re bringing meth up from town, right?” Elie laughed. “Or maybe someone’s cooking it for you out here. I doubt it’s Brittany, although she seems to be a regular customer. That’s why you don’t work at the mill. You already have a job.”

The afternoon had grown very still, and it occurred to Elie that her big mouth had dropped its bombshell in a very thoughtless place. The distance to the houses in one direction and the distance to downtown Hemford in the other suddenly seemed much farther. Her anger had gotten away with her again. If she’d waited ten more minutes to snap this off at him… if only…

Bryan wasn’t a big guy, not like Jake. But apart from some minimal self-defense, Elie’d never gotten in a real fight. At the moment, however, it looked like she was about to get her first crack at it, because it didn’t take a rocket scientist to read that glare that Bryan was shooting at her now.

“Who have you run your mouth to?” he hissed. “The cops? Was it you that tried to rat on me?”

A shiver cascaded from neck to naval at the odd likeness of the question. It hadn’t even been an hour since someone else had asked almost the exact same thing. Elie snorted. She was trying her best to look confident. “If I had a lick of proof, I’d give it to them, but I don’t. Proof or no, I don’t want to see your face at my door again. I’ll call the Sheriff on you in a hot minute, and I doubt he’d need any proof to run you off for harassment.”

Bryan stared at her for a long time. He seemed to be thinking. He also seemed to actually be taking her threat seriously. Elie’s confidence had almost become real.

But, then he chuckled.

Faster than Elie could have ever thought possible, he lashed out and caught the side of her head in a dizzying punch. She reeled. She’d squabbled with a couple drunk bar-flies once before, but she’d never been struck so hard in her life. It almost felt like she’d been knocked right off the ground.

Jasper barked, and it was the bravest sound Elie had ever heard him make. But it was followed by a harsh caw from Bryan, and Elie regained her vision in time to see him kick a boot into Jasper’s side. The dog scampered off, limping and whining, towards town.

“Did you just kick my dog?” she shrieked, half hysterical. She must have taken brain damage, Elie thought later, because without much of a good reason she flew at Bryan as if her five-foot-five, fight-virgin stature somehow could be overcome by mere vehemence. She must have surprised him, because her fist actually connected with his jaw, not once but twice, before he knocked her silly and Elie watched the world blink out.

It didn’t seem to her that she was gone for long. A world of trees and sunlight, forest floor and leafy ferns underfoot, kept appearing and disappearing. But it had been a cool, breezy afternoon—why was it already half-dark? She wasn’t walking. She could see someone’s legs and boots. They were carrying her. It was Bryan. Bryan was carrying her. Oh shit.

Elie’s limbs seemed very far away, as if she was trying to call them through a downed phone line. Her hands were hanging down Bryan’s back. She could see them, but the effort to make them move cost her snippets of consciousness. He didn’t even seem to notice her batting at his waist—in fact, he probably thought her arms were just swinging with the motion of his walking.

It was getting dark out. So, so dark. With the situation being what it was, that made Elie heart-stoppingly nervous.

Without warning, she was tossed off Bryan’s shoulder and onto mossy dirt. She blinked. They were within sight of the lake. A dock jutted outward against a liquid mirror, reflecting the sun as it began to set. Bryan appeared over her.

Elie remained very still. Full consciousness had almost returned, and she knew she was in trouble up to her ears. She’d thought Bryan handsome at first. He still was, if you were into psychopaths. He stared down at her, his face calm, but with a glimmer in his eye that spoke insanity a little too clearly.

She was so afraid to ask, but he seemed in no hurry to say anything, and Elie couldn’t handle the suspense. “What now?”

He laughed, as if she’d told a joke. “Well, I’ll tell you, honey.” He crouched down and folded his hands, like an adult explaining to a child why it wasn’t nice to tell lies. “Right over there is my parent’s boathouse. It’s not much of one, or else I’d take you in there, but they do have a nice little canoe in that shed, and when it gets dark, I’m going to chain some cinder blocks to your feet and take you out into the middle of the lake and throw you overboard.”

Elie stared. In a hysterical way, this made perfect sense. Hidden Lake was a valley lake. Its center was deep, much deeper than it appeared. She’d be fish food long before anyone found her body. What an irony. Her corpse was going to be hidden in Hidden Lake.

It would be slow, here. Slow, yes. Drowning was a rather slow death.

Terror clawed at her insides, but it would have to do more than that before she’d beg. She wasn’t even close to scared enough to beg. Not from this scum. She glared at him, with all the hateful intensity she was feeling.

She told him to go do a few things that were rather unlikely, and perhaps not anatomically possible. Bryan grinned wider, and Elie did not appreciate that. She curled her fist into the moist earth beneath her.

With an exhaled huff of desperate fear, Elie scattered a handful of dirt at Bryan’s face. He yowled and rocked back. It seemed she’d gotten his eyes. Scrambling, Elie gained her feet and tried to run for the lake. She’d be able to find her way back from there.

But Bryan leapt forward and hooked one hand around her ankle. Elie broke free, but tripped and fell headlong into the mulch, and before she could jump up and try again Bryan’s weight was on her back, one hand fisted in her hair. He whistled.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he assured her, straddling her buttocks. Elie could feel his erection pressing against her jeans, and struggled viciously to free herself, but he had her in a helpless position. “I wasn’t going to let your last few hours be boring. I have some fun planned before we go on out on the boat.”

He was still holding her face in the dirt with one hand. Bryan struggled to loosen his jeans with the other, apparently wary of letting Elie have too much freedom. Her brain was shooting in every direction, but so far Elie hadn’t come up with a plan. The best she could do was try to throw him off, but he was heavy and wasn’t unbalanced easily.

Exhausted, Elie fell still to catch her breath.

“There we go! Now, yours.”

His fingers dug into the waistband of her pants, and a terror colder and sharper and deeper than Elie had ever known twisted inside her. Tears welled up, out of anger, out of fear, out of despair, whatever the source, they blurred the darkening forest as her skin was exposed to the cool night air.

“Hey! HEY! What the fuck?!”

Elie sobbed. She’d never been so happy to hear Jake’s voice.

The weight on her back disappeared at once, and Elie rolled away, trembling like a leaf. She reached to pull her jeans back in place, and found it difficult with fingers that wouldn’t listen to her properly. She looked up at the rush of sprinting boots, still tugging her clothes back up.

Jasper and Jake had come barreling through the forest. The shepherd let out a mournful howl and came to her immediately, sniffing her frantically, whimpering.

“You’re—r-really a—a coward—Jasper,” she whispered, hugging him close as Jake caught up.

Elie had seen Jake angry, but this was frightening. His face seemed gouged by lines of rage and hate, pulsing a purplish red with quivering veins bursting from temple and neck. He fell on Bryan like an avenging angel, and Bryan never had a damn chance. Jake had him by the collar, punching solid blows like hammer strikes that sent resounding cracks through the stillness of the forest.

Elie was still huddled with Jasper, digging her fingers through the spiny fur of his neck and shoulders. She watched in growing dread as Bryan Mosley’s attempts to fight back weakened and eventually stopped. By the time she managed to get her legs under her, Jake held him, limp, by the shirt collar, and was still going, going, going, like he was hypnotized. Blood coated Jake’s fist, and splattered across the front of his t-shirt, also white. In the twilight, it looked powdery-blue, and Elie’s mental picture of Gwen Framer’s last moments jarred in her head like a struck bell.

“Jake!” she called. “Jake, stop! You’ll kill him!”

“I don’t give a damn,” he growled. Something else thundered in his voice, something deep and inhuman. His eyes flashed gold, amber, in the dusk.

“I don’t care about him, I care about you,” Elie came closer. She looked at Bryan, fairly sure he was alive, but it was hard to tell. Jake had paused, looking at her, his chest heaving. “If you beat him to death, it’ll be second-degree murder, no matter how you slice it. Yeah, he tried—he tried to rape me, and he’s a meth dealer, but you’ll still get stuck with a murder charge. I don’t want that for you. Not over this piece of garbage.”

She reached out a hand. “Come on. Let’s go. We’ll sic the cops on him when we get back to town.”

Jake looked at her hand, curiously, as if he wasn’t sure what it was. Then he blinked, shook his head. He dropped Bryan Mosley and put his hand in Elie’s. It was the hand that was slick with blood, but Elie clutched it tight.

“Let’s go,” she repeated.

Jake nodded. As if he was dizzy, he let her lead him towards the lake. She still had no idea where exactly they were, so following the shore home was the best bet. They made it to the water line and turned right. Elie could just see the lights over their picnic table.

Jasper shuffled along behind them as they walked. A mostly-full moon stretched upward over the valley in the east. With each step, Jake seemed to return to himself a little more, and eventually he squeezed her hand and took a deep breath.

“Thank you for stopping me,” he said, still staring at the ground. “I… I woulda beat him to death. I’d still go back and beat him to death, if I thought I wouldn’t go to jail for it. Thank you for… I didn’t want to kill anyone else. It gets hard, though…The bear, I mean… I forget where I am, I forget… about laws and decency and being human.”

Elie looked up at him. “Jake, you’re the most decent man I’ve ever met.”

He glanced sidelong at her, decided she wasn’t making a joke, and smiled. “Well, you aren’t too bad, either.”

And then, the gunshot cracked open the night.

Chapter Nine

Elie spun. She could just see Bryan Mosley’s white t-shirt on the bank, fifty-yards back. He lowered his gun arm, and she could feel his smirk across the water.

Jake’s body bent outward, like a bow. His mouth opened, but no sound came out; he just stood there for a moment, gasping, before falling to his knees.

“Jake! Jake—no! Jake!” Elie fell to her knees with him. Jasper was howling and whining and prancing nervously. There was a dark flower of blood seeping across Jake’s mid-back, and they were still far from town. “Jake!”

He coughed. Coughed again. The third cough came out hoarse and snarling.

Elie froze. Before her eyes, it happened, in perfect reverse of what she’d seen on this very lakeshore two nights before. His eyes changed first, glowing amber in a face that was sprouting a muzzle. Elie backed away to give him space. His bear shape unfolded in a mass of twitching muscle, popping bones, and ripping skin. He screamed, and Elie couldn’t blame him. It looked painful as hell.

Jake’s scream echoed into a roar, a bellowing call into the evening sky as he grew ten more feet and a few hundred more pounds. His black fur bristled against the fading daylight, standing upright, sniffing the wind.

He looked down at Elie. Jasper had run off.

Breathless, she stared back.

With a growl, the bear dropped to its feet and turned around. It thundered around the lakeshore, and Elie knew exactly where Jake was headed. She struggled to her feet and followed after at a run, no longer certain what she planned to do when she got there. Stop him? Could she stop him? Should she stop him…?

Up ahead, Bryan Mosley’s shocked scream answered her questions, and Elie booked it the last twenty feet or so until she saw the great shoulders of the bear—Jake—hunched over a haunch of meat that had once been Bryan. His face was just barely recognizable. Part of his skull was crushed, as if he’d been slapped into a tree by a monstrous force.

He was dead as a dishrag. Mauled. The sight was something of a relief to Elie, knowing he was gone forever.

Her relief was cut short as Jake the Bear swerved his blood-soaked muzzled up to regard her thoughtfully.

“Nice, Jake…” she muttered. It really would be stupid irony if Jake killed her now, after saving her from a rapist psychopath. Life and its nuances, never predictable.

Thankfully, Jake didn’t seem hungry enough to eat her, even seemed to recognize her in this form. The bear rumbled over to her side, then lowered down to the ground in an unmistakable entreaty. Elie laughed humorlessly.

“You want me to ride you? For real?” she asked, not really expecting an answer.

Jake snuffled at her, encouraging.

What a strange day. Elie climbed onto the bear’s back. She’d never even ridden a horse, and had no idea how she was going to stay on. When Jake got to his feet, Elie dug her hands in his fur and clamped her legs around him desperately.

As a bear, Jake was very wide, and for the most part round, but his back was flat enough for Elie to stay astride him, except for once, when he had to stop suddenly and she slipped off. Darkness was quite full by the time they reached the Framer’s back yard. Jake stopped under the cover of the trees.

Politely, Elie stepped down. The change-back process looked painful enough without someone sitting on you. It was difficult to watch, even knowing what was coming. The sound of cracking bone and knitting muscle was almost sickening, and by the end of it, Jake was lying on the forest floor, panting.

“That looks painful,” Elie whispered.

Jake nodded. His body was very white, very pale, in the darkness. “It is.”

Elie knelt down next to him. She pulled off her sweater to drape it over his shoulders. Not that she wanted to cover any of him, but it just seemed the polite thing to do. He was a lot of man to look at. Even in the bare light glimmering from the Framer’s back porch, his biceps and shoulders bunched and his torso rippled. The most distracting thing by far was between his legs—he was huge and semi-erect already. Jake sat up and let her do as she liked, passively, watching her.

“Elie?”

“Hmm?”

“C’mere.”

Elie glanced down and back up before she could stop herself. More than semi-, now.

If she wanted to stop, there had been better times, but now, finally, Elie admitted to herself that she didn’t want to dodge this one. Much of her life was spent running away. Too much. She leaned forward into Jake’s kiss, hot and firm against her lips.

It had been an evening full of fear and adrenaline, one shot after another, and it was still pulsing through their veins, both of them. Elie ran her hands over his chest and back. There wasn’t even a scar of the bullet wound. It was gone as if it had never happened. Jake pulled her closer, almost roughly.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I… All I can think of is tasting you, is that bad?” He chuckled, but his breath was coming short and his mouth had closed on her neck, her ear.

Elie’s heart squeezed. “Depends on where,” she whispered back.

Jake laughed and pulled her against his waist. He was kneeling, now, and had drug each of her legs to one side of his hips. His hard length was pressed against the groin of Elie’s jeans with impossible insistence.

“Anywhere you’ll let me,” he breathed. It had been meant as a joke, but a shiver ran through Elie. He ran his hands up her abdomen, bunching her shirt up around his fingers until her front was exposed. At the sight of her breasts, still cupped in her bra but large and round nonetheless, he growled appreciation. His thumbs kneaded her nipples through the bra and Elie gasped at the pleasure of it. Her own fingers were currently raking through his hair, holding on for support.

Jake’s stubbled chin grazed against her skin as he kissed a molten line from her collarbone downward along the lacey edge of the bra, between her breasts. Elie pulled off her shirt and shivered.

“It’s cold,” she said absently. Jake hugged her tighter, still tracing his lips across her chest.

“I’ll keep you warm,” he rumbled.

He slipped Elie’s sweater off his shoulders and settled it, one-handed, on the ground. His hands tracked back to the closure of her jeans. Elie could feel his hands shaking, but she doubted it was from nerves. The thought of his desire, that he wanted her so badly he was shaking with need, sent a fiery wave through her body, through her head.

Jake rolled her to the ground. He was over her, his torso seemed to cover the sky, to fill her entire field of vision, until it disappeared and Jake slipped downward to drag her jeans off her legs. Her tennis shoes popped off whether on purpose or accident. Elie couldn’t be bothered to worry about her socks, as Jake rolled her panties down her legs and off into the night, as well.

She twisted, trying to get her bra off—she wanted it gone, wanted Jake to be able to touch her everywhere, everywhere. Elie had to arch her back to reach the clasps, and Jake helped her, lifting her easily by the waist. He lowered his mouth to her belly button and started kissing and tonguing up, his chin dragging along across her skin and setting it aflame.

With her bra discarded in the darkness, Elie moaned under Jake’s mouth, clutching at his shoulders. He’d been cool to the touch at first. He still was. This time of year, there wasn’t much to be done about that. But there was a heat that burned beneath his skin, just below the coolness. A thrumming source of it rested against Elie’s thigh, now, waiting for the time to be right.

Impatiently, Elie wanted that time to be now, and reached between Jake’s thighs, gripped his shaft, and squeezed lightly. She was rewarded with a sharp inhale from him, which turned into a deep groan as she dipped her hand down and back up slowly, slowly, as if to hint at what Elie wanted to do next.

But Jake would not take hints, and instead flicked his tongue across her nipple. Elie’s back arched again, and Jake teased, first one and then the other, starting a tremor in Elie’s core that grew and spun wildly, like a spinning top losing balance.

“Jake,” she breathed. “Jake, please…”

He moaned pleasantly. “Say it again. The sound of you saying those words—I didn’t think I could get any harder—but you always manage—to surprise me.” He tried to sound casual, but his breath was deep and panting. When Elie put her hands over his chest, she could feel the thunderous pound of his heart, beating away under her fingers.

“Please,” she smiled, hooking her arms around his shoulders. “Please—oh, Jake—” Her words were interrupted as he just brushed her with his tip, startling her heart into an alarming trip of hyper-speed beats.

In thrill and rapture, Elie cried out as Jake delved into her, filling her, overfilling her, pumping briefly to wet his shaft until each motion was smooth and without resistance. He covered her mouth with his, devouring her with his kiss. His skin was feverish now, burning with sweat in the cool of the night as the trees whispered overhead.

Around his tongue Elie murmured pleas—short, one-word entreaties, things like ‘harder’, ‘faster’. Jake was always prompt to accommodate. The muscles of his arms stood out like cords—his chest and torso were rigid with tension as he thrust relentlessly, desperately, even as Elie spasmed and rocked and came in a hot rush beneath his frantic motion.

Whether he meant to or not, Jake’s pace, the feeling of his size forcing its way inside her, had Elie’s body humming in orgasm for what seemed like minutes. Her hands and feet felt numb. Her head was reeling. Breathlessly, she whispered in his ear.

“Jake, I don’t know if I can take much more.”

In response, Jake reared back. He didn’t stop. Grasping her hips in both large hands, he kept thudding into her, ramming into every niche of space she had. He looked down at her, and his eyes were amber. Elie shivered—he was admiring her body in the darkness, watching as she jiggled and jolted with each thrust, how her breasts bounced along with them, how her hair splayed out across the forest floor.

With a raw cry, Jake finished hard, pumping warm jets of his seed into her. His movements slowed little by little and he leaned over her, taking deep breaths.

Soon, he lay next to her on her sweater and gathered Elie into his arms. She inhaled his scent from the safety of his embrace. Maybe it was just the events of the night, but he smelled like forest and musk, familiar and irreplaceable.

“Elie?”

She hummed a response, keeping her face buried in his neck.

“Elie, I killed that bastard. Broke his neck like it was nothing and clawed him open. Doesn’t bother you?”

Elie let Jake’s words wash over her. She thought of Brittany Langland’s blank, strung-out face as she stared down at her young son. She thought of the evil glare in Bryan’s eyes as he told her how he would kill her, and how aroused he was by her pain. She realized that, oddly enough, it didn’t bother her at all that he was dead, or that Jake had killed him. Elie opened her eyes. She pulled back and looked into Jake’s face. She could just barely see it in the light from the house.

“No,” she answered evenly. “He got what he deserved.”

Jake studied her curiously. “You don’t care that I killed him?”

Elie shook her head. “The world is a better place with one less drug-pushing rapist.”

It was hard to guess whether her reply reassured or unnerved him. Jake pulled her back into an embrace and held her tightly.

The moment Elie shivered with cold, Jake noticed. “Let’s get inside,” he murmured. “You’ll freeze.”

They gathered their clothes and walked across the grass of the yard barefoot and naked. Jake dug through his pants’ pockets until he found the house keys, and they crawled into his bed together, warm and nuzzled in the sheets and blankets left behind by his parents when they died.

Elie didn’t notice what Jake did because she was asleep too quickly, and she had never had to spend a silent night under this roof, listening to the roar of all that was absent. But Jake lay awake for as long as he could, resisting the exhaustion that pulled at him. There hadn’t been another person in this house for years. He’d almost forgotten what the sound of someone else’s footsteps on the floor was. How voices other than his own bounced into the corners and brought life into his space.

Gingerly, he tucked an arm around her as she slept. Elie flattened herself against his side without waking, muttering with a smile on her face.

When he was too tired to think any more on the subject, Jake wrapped his strong arms around Elie and finally, after all these years, held his love as they drifted into dream land.

Chapter Ten

She’d definitely forgotten something. Elie frowned and tried to go back to sleep. Whatever it was, she could deal with it later. Unless something was on fire, more sleep was more important.

There was that buzzing again. Elie realized through her sleepy delirium that it was her phone, and reached for it on the nightstand. Her hand floundered through the air, because her nightstand was back in her apartment in Denver, and she was neither there nor in her parent’s guest bedroom with the lacy white curtains.

A smile spread across her face, even as the phone continued to buzz through her jeans’ pocket on the floor. She was in Jake’s bed.

The smile withered as she recalled the events of the previous night, extraordinary and terrible as they were. She’d almost been raped. She’d almost been killed. In her drowsy little hometown of Hemford, of all the damn places.

Jake was missing, so Elie sat up and reached toward the floor for the phone. It had stopped ringing, but since she’d been out mysteriously all night, with a flash of panic she remembered Jasper, but he’d probably run home after the bear had appeared, Elie had a feeling she knew who’d been calling.

Hemford, of all places. Elie sat up, naked, in bed and opened her phone screen. She’d always expected danger in Denver. Don’t walk down dark alleys, stay in sight of people, don’t leave your drink unattended, all that and more had been standard routine in the city. No wonder scum like Bryan Mosley lurked here, where people were good and neighbors trusting. It made for easier hunting.

Thirteen missed calls from Alison Barner. There was something immediately uneasy—ominous, even—about seeing such a number of missed calls from your mother. In France, Elie’s friend Rachel had checked her phone at the end of a Saturday night to find twenty-two missed rings from her parents. They’d been trying to tell her that Rachel’s sister had died in an auto accident.

Elie shook off the unease and started to call Alison back, but the phone began ringing in her hand before she could press CALL. She almost dropped it altogether, but managed to answer the call and hold the phone to her ear without any further incident.

“Elie?! Elie, oh my God, we were so worried, Elie where are you?!”

Her stomach was doing jumping jacks, and Elie had never been much of a jumper. “Mom, I’m at Jake’s, Mom. What happened? Are you all right? Is Dad alright?”

“Oh, God, Elie, it’s terrible—no, we’re all safe, it’s not that,” Alison cut off abruptly. “Did you say at Jake’s?”

Her mother’s tone had hopped from panicked relief to curiosity as quick and smoothly as a lane change. Elie grinned a little, seeing in her mind’s eye Alison raising her eyebrows into the phone.

“Well, I’m glad you made up,” Alison said finally. “Jasper came home alone last night dragging his leash, we found him in his dog house in the backyard this morning. You could say it worried us a little.”

Elie winced. “Sorry. He, um, he got spooked and yanked the leash out of my hand. Jake and I were looking for him…”

“And got distracted?”

“Mom.”

“Hey, I don’t blame you.” This last was whispered conspiratorially into the phone.

“I’m glad Jasper found his way home. I figured he would, he knows the way. That’s why I didn’t call. It was late. I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Well, say hi to Jake for me,” Alison added coyly. “Don’t let me keep you. It’s already eleven. Sounds like you two had a long night.”

“Bye, Mom,” Elie rolled her eyes and hung up.

Elie swung her legs over the side of the bed. Cold air washed over her immediately. She almost dived back under the covers, but Jake wasn’t under the covers. That took away from the appeal.

There was a light blanket thrown over the edge of the bed, and Elie grabbed it and wrapped it around herself to stop the shivering. It worked well enough, and she ventured out into the landing of Jake’s stairs.

The Framer house was a level and a half, one modest floor that comprised kitchen, living room, bath, a bedroom that had always been an office for as long as Elie could remember, and the two upstairs bedrooms. The master had belonged to Jake’s parents. It stood across from Elie, now, silent.

She approached the door. It was shut.  There was a sorrowful feel to it, as if it were ice, as if cold wafted from that closed door in waves. A strange urge to look inside gripped her, and Elie set her hand on the knob. There was the cold and finite feeling of a mausoleum in the handle, but Elie turned it and looked inside.

If she expected ghosts, in a way, that was what Elie got. Inside the master suite, time had slowed to a steady-dripping crawl. Someone had been in to clean, vacuum, dust, change the bedding and clear the windows. But in doing so, they had left out the book Gwen had been reading when she died—Broken Business, which looked like a dramatic thriller purchased off the discount rack—and the old work boots that Nate Framer had died in.

Her throat closed, and Elie shut the door softly.

Down the stairs, she heard the shower running and made an educated guess about Jake’s whereabouts. She wandered into the kitchen. The bottom floor of the home was all hardwood floors, which were quiet chilly on her bare toes. She pawed through the cupboards for coffee, filled the machine, and set it to brew.

The shower shut off and Elie walked over just as the coffee began to drip and tested the bathroom doorknob. It was unlocked, so she pried it open silently and peered in.

Jake stood at the mirror, naked, still glistening with water droplets in the soggy air of the bathroom. The mirror was fogged up, so he didn’t see her open the door, and Elie crept in, feeling playful. The soft rug across the tile muffled her steps, and Jake seemed busy with his razor, a collection of its pieces were scattered on the wood counter.

Elie stepped closer… closer... she was going to envelop him in a hug with the blanket, bringing his naked body back into contact with her own, but Jake was too fast.

Without seeming surprised to find her there, he spun around, hooked her waist, and brought her around against the counter. He ground his hips to hers. He was hard already, hot and ready to go. Elie’s heart quickened instantly, and she smiled breathlessly.

“You’re no fun,” she joked.

Jake grinned. His eyes roved down her body, across the curves that stuck out through the thin blanket tucked across her breasts. Smoothly, he propped her legs open, trapping her against the counter. Elie was wrapped so tightly in the blanket she could hardly move.

“I think you’ll probably change your mind in a minute or two,” he replied. His voice was gravelly with lust. “Besides. I’m a werebear. I heard you coming down the stairs and making coffee, even over the shower.”

Elie had no time to answer; Jake’s hand slipped between the folds of the blanket and dove between her legs. The only thing Elie could do was stand there and let it happen, which, coincidentally, was the only thing she wanted to do. She started to say so, but Jake set a finger on her lips—his own lips followed a moment later, stealing the breath she was struggling to draw as he touched and tested and teased.

Her weight was more or less on the counter now. Jake stood between her spread legs, his hand now pulsing into her gently, running circles across the flesh and bringing her heartbeat to the surface of her skin.

“Let go of the blanket,” he murmured. “Brace your arms back.”

Quivering, Elie obliged. The damp, cooling air brought out goosebumps immediately as the blanket slipped down and exposed her skin to the waist. Jake’s attentions below intensified, and his other hand closed gently on one breast at a time. He rolled her nipples experimentally, caressed their pink tips with his thumb. Elie bit her lip as lights flashed before her eyes and bursts of ecstasy pounded into her through Jake’s hands.

He brought her to a climax, right there on the counter, and Jake had to hold her to keep Elie from falling to the floor.

He pulled the blanket away. The cold swept in fully and Elie almost protested, until he turned her around and bent her over.

Still shaken from her first, Elie could do nothing but succumb to the growing wave of the second orgasm swelling inside her. Jake’s fingers raked her back gently, before clamping firmly onto her hips. He thrust into her so hard she felt like her backside must be bruising, but it was never too hard, or too much. All Elie could imagine wanting was more, delighted when Jake exceeded her desires every time.

Jake was panting. The mirror had cleared enough for Elie to see his face, screwed together in concentration and merciless pleasure. Then he looked up and met her eyes, and Elie realized how sexual, how unbelievably erotic it was to watch him ram his dick inside her this way, and for him to be able to watch from the front as he worked.

With a soft cry he came, fingers digging into Elie’s thighs. Her legs were so wobbly, she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to walk. Her hands stayed safely propped on the counter as she straightened and turned to face him.

“I take back what I said. You are fun,” she breathed. Jake grinned broadly and kissed her.

Chapter Eleven

“Pretty dead in here, for a Sunday,” Elie noted. She squared off a bite of pancake. She was still working on her first stack, but Jake had made it through two and a half, not to mention his Lumberjack Special—two eggs, sausages, bacon slices, and hash browns. Denny’s at its finest.

Jake shrugged. “Maybe there’s some church thing going on.”

“Maybe,” Elie glanced up to the waitress, a cute blonde, with her eyes on Jake. At Elie’s glare, she quickly turned away, smiling.

“Ex-girlfriend?”

Jake reddened, guiltily, around a mouthful of hash browns. “Maybe,” he mumbled.

“Hmm.” Elie raised an eyebrow. “How long ago?”

“Some four years. She’s married now, I wouldn’t worry.”

Elie chuckled. “Oh, after this morning, I’m not worried.”

Jake nodded and swallowed his food. “You shouldn’t be. That girl ain’t never seen a James Bond movie. Some things a man just can’t live with.”

They were still laughing when another familiar face came through the door, peering around, clearly looking for someone. It was another man their age, dressed in mountain standard, jeans and boots and a dusty work jacket. Elie and Jake were the only two customers in the Hemford Denny’s, and he zeroed in on their table instantly.

“Jake! Hey, whatcha doin’? Haven’t you heard?”

“I’m having breakfast with a lady, you damn cowbell. What’re you doin’?”

“Oh, hi, Elie! Didn’t know you were back in town.” Uninvited, Jonny Schneider plopped into the booth next to her and gave her a side-hug. Jake slowed his chewing, glaring at Jonny like an upset dog, but Elie didn’t mind. Jonny had been in their friend group in high school. She hadn’t seen him since.

“What’ve you been up to?”

“Today?” Jonny asked, excited as a kid on Christmas. “Bear hunting.”

Elie and Jake both froze like broken robots, staring. Jonny was oblivious. “I guess Jeremiah’s mutt found a body in the woods early this morning—Jerry was goin’ out to fish, and the dog just runs off through the trees and starts puttin’ up a racket—anyway, they ID’d the body. It was that Mosley fella. Poor sumbitch. It was a bear, for sure, and a big one. Bent his skull in like a beer can.”

“Who’s doing the huntin’?” Jake asked casually. He gnawed on a piece of bacon as if undisturbed.

“All the guys from the mill, and Brent said if it ain’t caught or driven off by tonight, he’ll let us off Monday to chase the damn thing. You scared him real good last night I think,” this was directed at Elie. “He thought you might’ve been got, too.”

Elie chewed thoughtfully. She hadn’t even been home yet since last night.

“I don’t know if I can meet up with you,” Jake answered. “Elie’n me were going to town later. Her oil’s been burning up too fast, we were going to go pick up something snazzier than Pennzoil to try.”

Jonny snorted. “That’s a Subaru for you. Just buy a Ford, problem solved.”

Elie smirked. “New oil is a little closer to my price range.”

“I’ll check in with you later,” Jake waved him off. “Leave me be. I don’t muscle in on your dates with Jennifer.”

Jonny smiled again and got to his feet. “Fine, Jake. See ya. Good seeing you, too, Elie!”

Elie waved as he bounced out the door. Her pancakes weren’t quite so appealing anymore. She looked over at Jake.

“Want to go catch a movie?” she asked with a shrug.

Jake offered half a grin. “Probably not.”

“Don’t tell me you’re really going to help them bear hunt? I mean,” she lowered her voice, “I guess that would be the best way to hide.”

Jake shook his head. “Elie, don’t get mad.”

“I’m already getting mad as soon as you tell me not to get mad.”

“Well, just don’t, ok?” Jake exhaled and looked her in the eye. “I’ve been thinking about this kind of thing for a long time. You know, that eventually they’d want to get rid of the resident bear. I actually have a bit of a plan worked out, believe it or not. I have a few ideas.”

He took a sip of orange juice. Elie waited, motionless.

“All right, this is my plan,” Jake pushed his empty pancake plate away and poked at his eggs. “I’m going to give them something to chase.”

“That’s a stupid plan,” Elie hissed. “What if you’re shot? Oh, wait…”

“Well,” Jake winced. “If I’m shot in bear form it’s a little different. They say only silver bullets kill werewolves, and I admit, the lead ones don’t seem to do the job. But they do hurt like hell.”

“So you would’ve healed from the one last night even if you didn’t change?”

“As soon as I’m human, all bets are off,” Jake said quickly. “I got shot in the leg a couple years ago—”

“What?!”

“I was in bear form, and a hunter shot at me. He got my leg. I’d been roaming around all night, and near exhausted, and I changed back before it healed. Hell of a time trying to explain it to the nurse at the ER.”

Elie sat there and stared, absorbing this information. “So you want to convince them that you’ve been run out of town?”

Jake nodded. “And preferably not get shot, but I could probably take a few.”

It was bizarre, to be sitting in a sunny little Denny’s in Hemford, Colorado, calmly discussing the logistics of leading a mob through the forest on a goose chase and possibly getting shot here and there. Not that Elie’s life was particularly predictable, but this was by far the oddest morning she’d had since the Mardi Gras she’d spent partying with a troupe of drag queens.

“Why not just let them hunt for nothing?” she asked, already knowing the answer. “You can just come watch a movie with me and my parents, or we can go back to your house and ride each other to death. Why even risk it?”

“One,” Jake held up a finger. “As temptin’ as it sounds to pound you until we both drop dead, I killed somebody, Elie. They’re serious this time, if your dad’s letting people off work to organize a search. Maybe they’ll never stop. Maybe they’ll come up with nothing, and someone puts in another call to Fish and Game, and the big guns come up to see what the fuss is about. Next thing you know, the government’s here, someone thinks there’s a new bear species, media, all that nonsense. Before you know it, Jake Framer is in a testing facility out in Area 51 or some shit.”

Elie rolled her eyes. “You might be overthinking this.”

Jake held up a second finger somberly. “Two, I don’t have a choice.”

Elie frowned. “What do you mean?”

He took another bite of egg. “I mean, I’ll be changing tonight whether I like it or not. It’s a full moon. I might as well make the best of it.”

Chapter Twelve

“Just be careful, please.” Elie kissed Jake again, lingering. It was a promise of things to come later, when they were both back in his bed, safe.

“It’ll be fine,” Jake promised. “I’ll just run around the mountain for a few hours and make like I’m running west. Just pick me up at the truck stop in the morning, ok? I’ll have to hide naked somewhere, and I’d rather not wait around too long.”

Elie nodded. “I’ll be there. You be there, too.”

Jake kissed her again. He stripped off the rest of his clothes. Elie sighed, admiring his body, as always, in the twilight. They were in Jake’s back yard, where he planned to begin his little adventure. The moon hadn’t risen yet. According to Jake, once it did, he’d better be in bear form already if he wanted to keep his sense.

He leaned on the porch railing. “Strange how things turned out,” he chuckled. “Bet you didn’t expect to turn up here.”

Again, that evening in the rain, after graduation. It was on her mind too often. “Jake, I… I definitely didn’t expect it, but I’m not complaining.”

They shared a smile.

“You remember what I said before you left, Elie?”

She did. She just wished she hadn’t said what she had in return. “Jake, I was stupid then. I shouldn’t have been such a dumb kid. I should have told you—”

“I asked if you remembered what I said, not what you said.”

“Of course.” Elie set a hand on his arm. “You said you were in love with me. You wanted to marry me. Back then, well, forget back then. I’m not a dumb kid anymore, and now, I’m saying—”

Jake stopped her with a kiss. “Not now. When I come back. I have to get going, now, and if you say anything more, I might not leave.”

Elie laughed. “Fine. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He kissed her hands and turned away. Elie watched his silhouette disappear into the woods, and soon the crashing of a much larger animal replaced Jake’s footsteps. Before long, that was gone, too. Elie sighed and walked around the house to her car. She didn’t like this plan.

Chapter Thirteen

“I hate being right,” Elie murmured.

The time was two in the morning. The moon had crested the horizon four hours ago, which meant that Jake had been in bear form for half the night already. He’d stay that way until he was exhausted or until the sun came up, whichever happened first, or so he had said. Elie looked at her phone for the time once more. The sun wouldn’t rise for another four hours at least.

Jake should have met up with the hunters. When Elie left the Framer’s and cruised back through town, she drove by several unfamiliar trucks with the Colorado Fish and Game seal on the doors. What seemed like dozens of trained professionals were setting up base camp outside town already.

They didn’t want to kill him or chase him off, Jonny had explained excitedly. They were going to catch the beast. Shoot him full of enough ketamine to knock out a whale, and drag him off to a safer habitat. They were going to corner him in a gorge, and see to it he went to live somewhere more peaceful.

Elie banged her hands on the steering wheel. Terror shot through her veins like lightning. Would tranquilizers work on a werebear? If they did, Jake would surely turn human again, wouldn’t he? If he did, and there were enough downers in his system to put a full-grown grizzly to sleep, would he even survive? And if he did, what then? His secret would be out.

So here she was, sitting outside the mill, the town’s lifeblood, planning something excruciatingly stupid.

No one was here. The mill was on the east side of town, and the bear hunt was happening throughout the west. Elie got out of the Outback and ran inside. She knew what she needed, thanks to CSI. A number of spare extension cords were left simply lying around; she grabbed the longest and trailed it to an exterior outlet. The farthest, most isolated one she could find.

The end of the extension cord, she hacked at with a shovel. When the glimmer of copper wire showed through, she took the shovel and found a likely-look heap of sawdust.

“Here goes my ass,” she muttered, shoveling sawdust through the air like confetti or fake snow. It fell slowly to the ground, catching the sparse light. It was probably her imagination, but she could almost hear them on the other side of town, chasing Jake. Was he still alive? Had they caught him already?

When she was coughing sawdust, Elie ran out front. She crouched behind the Outback, which she had parked next to the outlet farthest from the mill.

“I sure hope this place has good insurance,” Elie moaned. “Sorry in advance, Dad.”

She plugged in the extension cord.

Nothing. Just dark, still, night. Elie peered over the hood of her car.

Somewhere in the mill’s depths, the stars aligned and a spark caught the floating particles of dust—the explosion was spectacular.

It lit the night like dawn. A deafening boom, like being inside a drum, filled the air with almost physical presence, as heat shoved the world aside to make a place for the blossoming column of fire that unfurled from the mill’s ruined roof.

Even hiding behind the car, Elie was thrown backwards. Her ears rang. Had she turned herself deaf?

Then the debris started to fall. Elie scrambled back inside the Outback and swerved out of the mill lot. Everyone in Colorado must’ve heard that, much less Hemford. They’d be showing up any second, and whatever else happened, she mustn’t be here at the scene of the crime when they arrived.

She took the long way around to reach the base of operations. It had worked, to her relief. Everyone from Hemford was streaming back through town towards the mill, to save what they could. The fire siren wailed pitifully, and Elie watched it go, relieved.

“How far’d you guys get?” she asked a Fish and Game hat. He sighed.

“We almost had him. This is one smart bear, but we almost cornered him—then he slipped out, headed toward Utah, for how fast he was booking it.”

Elie’s heart leapt. He was headed towards the meeting place.

“That’s a shame,” she shrugged. “Next time, you’ll get him. He might have tried to respond, but Elie didn’t stay long enough to hear.

Chapter Fourteen

The sun was rising. On the western side of the Rockies, it would be dark for a while, yet. Elie locked the Outback and set off around the shower hut with a blanket and Jake’s pants. They had come here with friends a lifetime ago, and it seemed that she still knew the way.

There was a rocky little trail here. It led down into a gully, a pleasant little place to picnic and plan meetings of all kinds. Even this kind.

“Jake?” Elie called softly over the trickle of water. A stream that had broken off a larger river up the mountain came tumbling over a rock sheet here, forming a pool just deep enough to wade in before moving on.

By the pool, a still figure lay supine. Elie ran.

“Jake!”

At her yell, he opened his eyes. He hadn’t been shot, Elie was sure of that, at least. She scanned him with her eyes. He was dirty and scraped up, but seemed whole.

“Elie?”

“Jake, I think it worked,” she said as she covered him with the blanket. “Fish and Game thinks you ran to Utah. I think they might stop hunting you, now.”

“Elie,” he groaned weakly. “Did you blow up the mill?”

“Why… why do you ask?”

“I can still smell the burnt sawdust on the wind.”

She winced. “I’m sure the insurance will cover it, right?”

Jake closed his eyes. “Looks like I’m laid off for a while.”

“Jake,” she murmured, “I thought you were dead, you idiot. You had me worried sick. They said they almost had you. Now can I say what I want to say?”

He shook his head. Elie smacked his shoulder lightly. “Why not?”

“It was me,” Jake whispered. His voice sounded like he’d eaten glass. He looked up at her. “I’m the one that killed my Mom.”

Elie stilled. “I… I know, Jake. I’m not an idiot. I can put two and two together.”

His jaw clenched as he watched her face. “It was an accident. It was the first time… and I couldn’t control it back then.”

Elie shushed him. The sun was finally touching the treetops overhead. It would be full daylight by the time they got back to Hemford. “Jake, you can’t hold on to that, and you can’t expect me to hold on to that.”

“I just wanted you to know,” he went on. “It was the only thing I hadn’t told you. I needed you to know.”

“Well, I know,” she agreed. Elie leaned down and kissed him. “And I love you, still. Now let’s go home, I hear there’s been an explosion at the mill.”

Epilogue

It was enrollment day.

Elie looked up at her school doubtfully.

“Might as well get this over with,” she said. She turned to Jake, who was sitting in the passenger seat. “You sure you don’t want to go back to Hemford?”

He shrugged. “Until they rebuild that mill, I’m out of a job. I might as well live up here with you, pick up some work on the side. It’s only fair you should put me up, since you’re the one who made me unemployed.” He grinned at her through his beard, and Elie shoved him.

“Fine, fine.” They got out of the car. Elie carried a bag today, full of papers. She hated paperwork, but it was a necessary evil. “It’s only two more semesters.”

“You were thinking of quitting with only two more semesters to ‘til your BS?”

“It took me seven years to get this far.”

“Oh.” Jake put an arm around her waist as they walked through the entryway. “Well, hopefully this’ll only take one more. Then you can start your career as a social worker, or whatever you had in mind.”

Elie nodded. “I was thinking along those lines. But maybe I should consider a major switch.”

Jake scoffed. “To what?”

“How about veterinary assistant?”

They entered a crowd of students then, so Jake had to satisfy himself with the knowledge that he’d make her pay for that remark later, once they got back to her apartment.

He smiled and hoped her housing had thick walls.

THE END

MOST VALUABLE PANTHER

STORY DESCRIPTION

Kristin Walker and Derrick Wellborn were childhood sweethearts, first loves, until their parents had a vicious falling out over some mysterious offense. Next thing they knew, their parents had separated them, moved to opposite coasts, and forbade them from having any contact.

Derrick, a cunning and focused panther shifter, is now a pro-football player with a body to kill for and eyes so blue they could make the sky jealous, and Kristin is a bold and curvy sports doctor.

When Kristin accepts her dream job with the Washington Peregrines, she is shocked to the core to find that the sexiest, most eligible bachelor in sports, Derrick Wellborn, has just been traded by New York…. to the Peregrines. What’s more, he has never forgotten her either.

When Derrick threatens to break Randy Wolfe's world record for rushing yards, Kristin’s life becomes seriously imperiled.

Will Derrick risk his entire career to keep Kristin safe?

Can Derrick and Kristin’s parents put aside their differences to save their children?

Chapter 1

"Derrick! Derrick! Over here!"

Derrick Wellborn looked up from the strings he was tying on his cleats into the flash of a camera. It stung his eyes for a second as a thousand flashes went off at once, then he smiled. His perfect white teeth glimmered for the cameras, and one lucky photographer caught the crowning cover shot, with Derrick's midnight colored hair swept back across his forehead and his tanned, toned skin looking like he'd just arrived at the stadium by tropical island ferry instead of a New York subway.

The cameras flashed again and Derrick turned towards them so they could get a better shot. Whoever said quarterbacks got all the glory never met him. This was one of the things Derrick loved most about playing football.

Reporters shouted all around him. "Derrick! How does it feel to be going up against Randy Wolfe today? Are you nervous?"

Derrick shook his head, already forming the words in his mouth. "No, no, it's all just a part of the game. You know." He smiled sheepishly, trying to look humble. He knew Randy Wolfe was about to get crushed. He was getting closer to tying Randy's rushing record—the all-time best in NFL history. If it didn't happen this game, it was gonna be soon.

"Derrick, you're only twenty yards out from joining the 2,000 Yard Club. Think you can conquer Randy's personal best after that? Set a new world record?"

Derrick grinned and shrugged.

A girl of twenty with bleach blonde hair and a big rack that she'd squeezed into a child's size pink halter top broke through the reporters and threw her arms around Derrick. She smacked her lips hard against his and ran her fingers through his hair. Derrick smiled wide. This was another thing he loved about being a superstar NFL player. He got all the girls he wanted, and man did he want them all.

A picture of his childhood sweetheart flashed through his mind, almost ruining the kiss the blonde with the rack was trying to plant on him again. He pushed Kristin from his head, like he always did. Maybe later he'd let himself think about her, just a little. If they won the game tonight and he broke Wolfe's record, there would be so much celebrating Derrick doubted that he'd remember to think about anything other than the trophies he was sure to get and the multitude of women who were bound to throw themselves at him.

"Derrick—"

"Sorry guys, game's on. I gotta go," he waved his hand in the air.

His legs got the twitch that they always did right before a game. The last—but not the least—thing Derrick loved about being a running back was the running. The panther in him longed to race across the field, breathe in the grass, and outrun everyone around him.  He'd get to the end zone well ahead of them all and score the final touchdown. Tonight would be no different, except he'd finally have his chance to run against Randy Wolfe. He didn't bear Randy any ill will, the wolf was not the natural enemy of the panther, it was only that Derrick liked taking down the best. And the best meant Randy.

"Just one last question Derrick!" He turned his head towards the cute brunette who was waving her hand wildly in the air, the lone woman in a sea of testosterone. He shot her a smile and pointed towards her.

"Last one pretty lady, go ahead."

She flashed him a smile with pink lips and bright blue eyes that made Derrick's heart race. The cute ones always did. "Are there any truth to the rumors you're getting traded?"

Derrick shook his head. "No way. New York's been my home since I was fifteen. I'm twenty-eight now. I'm not going anywhere."

***

Kristen ran her hand over Burt Young's knee. He twiddled his thumbs and refused to watch while she worked. Kristen didn't need to be telepathic, like her parents claimed to be, to know what he was feeling. His body shook with nervous energy and his eyes were wet.

"It's okay," she assured him. "Just an isolated sprain of the medial collateral ligament." Burt stared at her blankly. "That means you didn't tear it." She smiled as his shoulders relaxed.

"Thank God." He blew a steady stream of air from his lungs and hunched over, his head in his hands. "How long? Tell it to me straight."

"I don't think the sprain is very bad." Kristen put one hand behind his neck and gave it a little squeeze. "Stay off it for a few days and you'll be back in the next game."

She thought he might cry for a second—sometimes football players did when they thought they were out for the season—but then his head whipped up with confused happiness. "The next game...? The next game...?"  It took a minute for it all to sink it, and Kristin gave him that minute. She was used to this—at least this time the news was good. Not all players were so lucky. Football was the toughest of all sports on a person's body.

"Woohoo!" Burt jumped off the exam table, balanced himself on one leg, and grabbed Kristen around the waist. He picked her up and spun her around the room before setting her back down.

"Thanks Doc! You're the best damn doctor we ever had here."

Kristen blushed. The red in her cheeks almost matched her hair. It was nice knowing that even though she'd never be a football player herself, at least she was still contributing to the game. Her phone buzzed in her pocket but she didn't pull it out.

"Remember what I said," she told Burt. "Off of it for at least three days. I'll get you some crutches from the back. Use them."

"Anything you say Doc."

His smile was so wide she thought it might spread off his face, like an overdrawn cartoon character. It made her think of Derrick... the wide smile he used to give her when he'd pick her hand off the sand before holding it to his face. They were inseparable from the time they were five and had moved in next door to each other, until the time they were fifteen and they'd been ripped apart. That was thirteen years ago. She was twenty-eight. He was famous. And a millionaire. Any chance they'd had together ended long ago with the mysterious falling out of their parents.

Kristin had cried, screamed, pouted and begged her mom and dad for some sort of explanation till she was blue in the face. All her mom would say was, "Sometimes things just happen." As if that explained the sudden departure of Derrick's family not just from Los Angeles, but from their lives. From her life. Eventually, Kristen had given up asking.

She was sure Derrick didn't even remember her now. She saw the tabloids in the grocery stores like everyone else. And lately it seemed like every time she turned on her computer a new photo was splashed across the screen with a picture of Derrick and his latest squeeze toy. Kristin's round curves and voluptuous body wouldn't even fit on the cover of a magazine, but she didn't care. She’d never wanted to be rail-thin like a stick figure—like the girls she saw Derrick with. She was satisfied with her full breasts and thick curves.

"Be right back," she told Burt when she realized she was still standing there.

When Kristin was alone she took her phone from her pocket and unlocked her screen. A new message icon displayed across the LED.

She scrolled through the email. It took forever for the general manager to get to his point... Think you'd fit into the team nicely. Welcome aboard!

Kristin almost ran back to Burt without the crutches and picked him up as he'd done to her. She couldn't believe it. Finally! The Peregrines! When she stepped back into the room her grin was even wider than Burt's.

Chapter 2

Derrick stepped into the locker room of the Peregrines still livid at the trade. They'd done it behind his back. And fast too. Yesterday, New York and hot dogs, today Washington state and rain. It hadn't even broken in the papers yet. How the teams kept this a secret was beyond him. The Peregrine’s got him, his old New York team—the one he'd been with since starting in pro-football—had gotten three of the Peregrine's best. Three players for one Derrick. He should've felt honored, but all he felt was betrayed.

He wondered if this was how Randy Wolfe felt when the Peregrines traded him to the Broncos last year. Randy had been with this team since starting pro himself. He knew Randy still had a house around here somewhere. Maybe it was for sale.

The guys in the locker room introduced themselves as he came in, slapping his hand and pointing out his locker. Derrick opened it and five gallons of strawberry Jell-O fell onto his shoes and rolled over the floor. Derrick smiled. If this was how the guys were gonna treat him on the first day, they were probably alright.

One of the guys, Tate Edwards, waved a newspaper high in the air and started reading in a high pitched sing-song voice:

"Derrick Wellborn, arguably the best running back in NFL history, has just become the eighth member of the NFL's 2,000 Yard Club after surpassing 2,000 rushing yards this season. Randy Wolfe had this to say..." Here Tate changed his voice to a deep growl. "'He might be good, but he's not the best. He can try and beat me all he wants, but he'll always be trailing behind eating dust.'"

Tate looked up and shouted, "Well fellas, we've got a bona fide superstar in our midst."

Derrick yelled back, "And I'm glad to be here. Strawberry Jell-O is my all-time favorite!"

The crew busted up laughing and Derrick joined in. A little friendly ribbing on the new guy was pretty standard. Especially with a high profile guy like Derrick.

The coach walked in, his bald head shining under the locker room lights and his face red with sun. He saw the Jell-O all over the floor, still creeping towards the showers, and shook his head. Then he broke into a smile and called out to the room. "All right, you had your fun, but tell me this... Who in the hell is gonna clean up this mess?"

Tate tossed a rag at Derrick and it hit him in the face. Derrick grinned and dabbed it in some Jell-O before whipping it back to Tate. The team roared but the coach just shook his head.

"Tell you what," Coach said, "the two of you can clean it up together. Tate, Wellborn," he pointed towards the floor. "There's a bucket a rags in the back."

"Aw, Coach," Tate whined.

"Stuff it Tate. We got a new doctor comin' in today, and I don't want her thinkin' we're a bunch of animals."

Several players jumped up at the mention of a new doctor.

"Did you say her?"

"A woman?"

"A girl doc?"

"That's right," Coach yelled. "Female, and the best in sports medicine."

Bolero called out, "You don't mean the one who saved Crick O'Malley's busted hamstring last season." The others looked at him. "Kept him in the game and got him picked up by Denver."

"That's exactly who I mean," Coach said. "We're lucky to get her, so be nice."

The others nodded. "Don't worry Coach," Tate said. He gave Derrick a wink. "We'll be on our best behavior."

***

Practice went well, and Derrick was surprised to find how quickly he felt at home. Back in the locker room they were showering and getting ready to take Derrick out—a proper welcome to the team they said, which would undoubtedly include a night of drinking and women—when Coach came in and said the doctor was here.

"Remember," Coach yelled. Coach always seemed to yell, Derrick supposed most did. "Best behavior." He opened the door and called, "Okay, Doc, we're ready for ya. Guys, meet Doctor Walker."

Kristin stepped into the room with her head high and her face set like stone. Inside, she was bursting with excitement. Washington had been her number one pick since she'd been in med school. They'd told her she was too young for Washington then. Apparently a few years later and the new general manager thought reputation and know-how were more important than age. Besides, she was a damned good doctor. She'd always exceled at school, and when she'd gone to medical school she'd breezed through it and gotten fast tracked to her degree. Only a handful of people had their degrees before thirty. She was proud of her accomplishments, and the Peregrines were lucky to have her.

She reminded herself of this as she faced the locker room of jocks.

She'd dealt with the opening scene of locker rooms before, and the introduction was always—interesting. The players stood before her with towels wrapped around their waists. Someone tapped three times on a locker and two dozen towels dropped to the floor simultaneously. Kristin smiled. Flashing women in the locker room was a long held tradition. The guys wanted to see if you'd look.

Coach dropped his head into his hands, embarrassed. "I’m a doctor, boys," Kristin said, making an obvious show of looking around the room at all the players, “I’ve seen teeny-weenies before. No need to be self-conscious. You can’t all be well-endowed.”

The guys busted up like they'd done earlier with the Jell-O stunt. Kristin walked around the room and shook each player's hand with their towels still pooled at their feet. She didn't bat an eye. She was down to the last row of players when one of them frantically grabbed at their towel and pulled it up. She blinked, not believing her own eyes.

"Derrick Wellborn?" she couldn't stop the shock from registering in her voice. He didn't belong in Washington, he was a New Yorker.

He looked even better than she remembered. Even better than in the papers. His dark hair was the color of the night sky. His eyes as blue as the sea beyond the sand. He smiled at her with moist, pink lips and the muscles in his arms twitched, emphasizing the biceps that had only been starting to develop when she'd last seen him. Her lungs began to burn before she realized she’d forgotten to breathe.

The team was watching them.

"Hey," Derrick snapped his fingers in the air several times like he was summoning a waiter. "Uh... Kristy... Christine... no, Theresa, right?" He pulled the towel tight around him.

"Kristin." She bit her lip.

"Kristin. Right. Nice to see you. It's been, like, a while."

The initial excitement Kristin felt at seeing Derrick fell apart. It's been, like, a while? Was he serious?

"Yeah," she said. "Thirteen years. Or so." She didn't want him to think she'd been counting.

"You look... nice. I guess. Welcome to the team. I'm gonna finish showering if we're all through here." Then Derrick breezed out of the locker room like seeing her was no big deal.

Derrick got around the corner and leaned his back against the wall, taking deep breaths. He knew he was acting like a jerk, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He was freaking out. Kristin had never been far from his mind, but he'd never dreamt he'd see her again. His heart pounded in his chest.

Athletes did not let girls get to them like this. It was bad news for winning streaks if you fell for one too hard. He wouldn't even have sex before a big game, let alone entertain some sort of school age crush. He still had to finish taking out Randy Wolfe's record—that was the number one priority in his life right now. There was no room for anything more than a casual fling, which meant lots of women, not one woman. He couldn't risk getting close to Kristin. Not now. There weren't that many more games left in the season. January inched closer every day.

But man she looked good. Her skin was still as creamy as he remembered, and her hair fell around her in soft red waves that reminded him of the ocean they used to sit and watch at sunrise. Her breasts were already pretty full when they were fifteen, now, at twenty-eight, they were round and firm and the cleavage they made, even in her medical uniform, was enough to drive a man crazy. Her hips and waist had rounded out too, adding curves where most women didn't have them, but definitely could use them. Voluptuous. Sexy. Those were the first words he'd thought of when he saw her.

He peeked around the corner from where he hid and watched as she left the room. Introductions were over.

Chapter 3

Kristin's mother was not as excited as she'd hoped.

"Derrick Wellborn?" She heard the skepticism in her mom's voice and it bugged her.

"Yes Mom, Derrick Wellborn."

She didn't know what she'd expected her mom to say. Her family hadn't spoken to Derrick's in over a decade. But Kristin had never forgotten him. Now that they were both on the Peregrines, it would be impossible not to see each other. Derrick had acted like he hadn't remembered her, but she wasn't convinced. He'd pulled his towel up awfully fast when she came near him.

"Well, if you have to see him for work, I guess you can't help that. But I don't think it's a good idea for you to see him socially."

Kristin sighed. "Mom, why don't you just tell me what it was that happened? It was so long ago now, what can it possibly matter?” She could hear her mom breathing on the other end. “There must be a reason you hate Derrick’s family so much. But why? I mean, it's not like his dad hit on you or something." She paused, considering, "Did he?" Kristin's own good looks had come from somewhere, and it certainly wasn't her father's side.

"No! Of course not," her mom shouted. Kristin let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"Then what is it?"

Even after all these years, Kristin still knew virtually nothing about the falling out their families had had. All she knew was that it had acted as the kick off to some sort of mid-life crisis for her parents. Derrick's family had moved to New York. Hers had stayed in L.A., but both her parents had quit their jobs as lawyers to become private detectives and suddenly decided they were psychic. They'd moved Kristin from their posh Beverly Hills home to an old, broken down house in the Mid-Wilshire district she'd later found out was supposed to be haunted. Suddenly, overnight it seemed, everything in their lives revolved around the supernatural. Her parents became obsessed with it.

Instead of their family picture over the fireplace, her parents had a portrait of Hans Holzer. Books on werewolves and ghosts lined every wall in their home. When Kristin turned 18 and moved into her dorm, her parents had insisted—much to her embarrassment and her roommate's amusement—on conducting a sage cleansing ritual before they'd allow her to move in. Her mom had attributed this sudden change to a documentary she and her father had watched on television late one night, but Kristin had always thought that sounded like a lame excuse.

"Kristin, honey." Her mom paused and was silent for so long Kristin thought she'd hung up. "Just be careful."

"Careful about wh—"

But Kristin's mom was already gone.

***

The team huddled together in the locker room. Coach had just finished his pep talk and it was actually one of the best Derrick had ever heard. The team was jazzed, ready to kick some ass against the Cowboys.

He tried not to notice Kristin in the corner, getting her bag of medical whatnot together for the impending injuries that were sure to occur. There was always something during a game like this. It had been a week since he and Kristin had joined the team, and he'd avoided her like the plague. Derrick had made the mistake of mentioning Kristin's sudden return into his life in an email to his parents, and they'd sent him back a frenzied reply telling him to stay away from her.

He knew Kristin's family had freaked out all those years ago when his parents had revealed to them that they were shifters, but that didn't explain the almost desperate plea from his mother and father not to have anything to do with her. They made it sound as if his life depended upon his staying away from her. It was ridiculous and exaggerated, of course, but he'd vowed to keep his distance anyway. He didn't want anything to distract him from beating Wolfe's record. Besides, if he needed female companionship for a night or two, he could take his pick.   Something told him that with Kristin there'd be no one-nighters. No, she would be all or nothing. He didn't have time for all right now.

He looked up to realize the team was heading out to the field and hurried to catch up. The Cowboys were tough, but the Peregrines were better. At least, now that Derrick was on the team they were. And they were in Washington tonight—even better.

The game started well enough for them. The first quarter flew by. Half time hit, and some band Derrick had never heard of played while the Cowboy's cheerleaders did their thing. That was one thing he liked about Dallas—they sure had some first class girls on the team. He wondered what the chances were that one of them wanted to hook up with the enemy. He thought the chances might be pretty high.

It was third quarter where things went wrong. Tate tossed the ball to him and he caught it no problem, but some jerk on the Cowboys nailed him from behind before he'd even gotten his chance to run with the ball. He felt his knee crack and fell to the ground. The team signaled to Coach, and Kristin was hunched over him before he was even aware she'd stepped onto the field.

They took him off in a stretcher. He felt like a jerk. He wanted to get back out there. He was close to beating Wolfe's record, but that was never gonna happen if he was stuck in a locker room with a busted knee. Panther shifters could heal faster than most, he just needed a few minutes alone. He couldn't heal a broken knee in front of a crowded stadium.

"Just set him there," Kristin told the medical team that had helped carry him off the field. They put him on an exam table and Kristin started poking his knee. "Shit," she said. "It's broken."

"No," Derrick said, smiling, trying to play it off like it was nothing. "It's fine. I just need a minute. Got the wind knocked out of me, that's all."

Kristen looked at him with sympathetic eyes. Deep brown sympathetic eyes that made his heart race. "Derrick, I'm sorry, but your knee is broken."

He shook his head and tried to pull his leg away from her. "Can you just get some ice?" he asked her.

She was pulling something from her medical bag. "What is that?" he asked.

"It's for the pain."

She wanted to shoot him up with some kinda pain killer? That would only slow the healing process. He might end up missing the rest of the game if she stuck him with that now.

"Kristin, don't. I'm fine, really."

"Derek, you're not fine. With surgery and treatment, you might be able to play next season."

Next season? Was she crazy? Derek asked himself.

Kristin watched him try to swing his leg over the edge of the table and stand up. Was he crazy? Clearly he was in denial. It happened all the time with sports players. The thing was, he seemed like he was barely in pain. His knee was broken in at least two places. He should have been in agony.

"Could you get me some water?" he asked, after she pushed him back on the table. "I don't feel very well."

"Of course." She ran to get him some water and Derrick closed his eyes, concentrating. He felt the bones in his knee and willed them to shift back to the right place. He felt the pieces move together and begin to mold themselves. When Kristin came back with the water, he was standing.

"See?" he said. "The wind got knocked out of me. That's all." He smiled at her, trying to melt her with his charm.

Kristin dropped the water and ran to him, running her hand over his leg. Her touch sent shivers of electricity up his body. She pulled her hand away, in shock.

"Derrick," she said. "That's not possible. It was broken. I'm sure of it."

He looked at her and shrugged. "I better get back out there." It was all he could think to say. He ran onto the field, leaving Kristin with her mouth hanging open.

Chapter 4

Kristin was waiting for Derrick when he got out of the showers. They'd won against the Cowboys and the team was already celebrating. Derrick walked past her like she wasn't there. Why did he insist on treating her like an alien? She remembered the way her hand used to feel when he held it in his. How hot his skin used to be...

"Way to go tonight, Doc," Coach said coming up to her and slapping her on the back. "You're some kind of miracle worker. I coulda sworn Wellborn was out for the season when they brought him back here. You're a goddamn genius." He slapped her back again and walked off.

"Derrick," she said when he walked past her again. She grabbed his arm to stop him. "We need to talk."

Derrick looked where her hand was clutching his arm. A steady stream of heat radiated from the spot. He looked at Kristin. Her eyes were round and full, almost as full as her breasts, and he saw the spark in them when he put his hand over hers and lifted her fingers off him, one by one. He took a deep breath. He had to calm this rush of energy that was coursing through his veins.

Maybe it's better to just tell her. She already knows something's up...

"Can you meet me at Palidio's in an hour?" he asked. Palidio's was the preferred pub for his new team. She nodded, reminding herself to breathe. When he'd touched her hand, her heart had stopped. Her brain couldn't think straight around him. If he'd asked her to be the stickup man in a bank heist he'd planned, she would've said yes. She would've done anything just to get him to touch her again.

"One hour. See you there," he said, then hurried out before she could ask any more questions.

***

Palidio's was crowded. The whole team was there. Kristin and Derrick sat in a back booth, as far from the team as they could get, which wasn't very far. Tate and the others saw them cozying up together and decided to leave them alone for now.

"So?" Kristin said, waiting. She sipped at a scotch and soda, watching Derrick closely. His eyes were bright blue, almost too blue for the dim lighting of Palidio's. How could they shine in shadows?

Derrick wasn't comfortable being so close to Kristin. She smelled like vanilla and every time he got near her, the hair on his arms stood up like soldiers at attention. He wasn't sure he could continue to keep his distance, and that worried him. He'd nearly dropped the ball earlier because he'd caught her scent on the wind when he turned for the catch. It could've cost them the game. Maybe once he told her the truth, she'd want nothing to do with him, like her parents. It was the best chance he had to get rid of her. Derrick took a deep breath. "You remember the last time we saw each other?"

She nodded. "Of course."

"I was holding your hand at Venice Beach, and you kept telling me how hot it was. You thought I had a fever, that I was sick. Then you said my eyes looked funny and you were afraid I was about to pass out."

"That's a pretty detailed account for someone who couldn't remember my name a few days ago," she said, narrowing her eyes.

He looked down at his own drink, his cheeks going pink. Kristin thought he was adorable when he was embarrassed. "I lied, okay?" he said. “Truth is I remember everything about you. Everything about you and me.”

"Why lie?"

He shrugged. "I was just—I couldn't believe it was you. I didn't know what to do. I was afraid... you'd distract me."

That wasn't the answer she was expecting. "Distract you from what?"

"The game," he said, as if that should have been obvious. "From beating Randy Wolfe's record. I was afraid you might jinx me."

Things were starting to make sense now. All sports guys were superstitious. She'd learned that long ago. "So you ignored me instead?"

He nodded. This wasn't going well. The longer they talked, the less Derrick wanted her to leave. What if he did scare her away? What if, after all these years, he lost the only chance he'd have to be with her again? Was sacrificing Kristin more important that beating Wolfe's record? Two hours ago, he'd been certain it was. Now, as he stared into the butterscotch flecks of her eyes and admired the fullness of her waist as she slid into the booth, he wasn't so sure. As they'd been talking, their fingers had moved closer and closer together. They were almost touching now. A buzz began to grow between them, so strong Derrick thought he could almost see tendrils of energy shoot from her fingertips to his.

"So, what does this have to do with your knee?" she asked, trying not to get distracted by the smell of Derrick's aftershave—like a woodsy forest—or the day’s growth of beard that gave him a rough, sexy look.

Derrick took a deep breath and looked around the pub. "The last time you saw me... I was… going through a change."

She lifted an eyebrow. "What sort of change?"

He evaded the question. "My parents told yours what was going on with me. They figured they were obligated to what with you and I being so close. They thought your folks would understand," he shook his head. "They didn't."

"What sort of change?" she asked again, more forcefully.

She looked at him across the table and his eyes turned from the bright blue she'd been mesmerized by to a golden orange, to the color of a tree top, back to blue. The fingernails on his right hand, which were pressed against the table, extended towards her then shrunk back down. Something clicked. She hadn't grown up surrounded by books on the paranormal, with parents who thought they were psychic detectives, and not picked up a thing or two.

"You're a werewolf," she whispered. Her heart fluttered and her breath changed from the quick, nervous pulse of infatuation to the sharp intake of fear.

He shook his head. "No. Not exactly." He was watching her closely, afraid she'd run. He stretched his hand over hers, gluing it to the table. She flinched, but then laced her fingers with his. "Don't be scared."

Kristin wanted to run. Everything she knew about werewolves said they were dangerous man-eaters. But Derrick didn't look dangerous, he looked... nervous. "Not exactly a werewolf?" she asked. "Then what?" She couldn't believe she was buying into any of this. She'd always thought her parents were crazy. But his eyes... and his knee... It had definitely been broken. She'd felt the pieces popping out behind his skin.

"A panther."

Her jaw dropped and her glass fell towards the floor. Derrick reached out with lightning speed and caught it in mid-air like it was a feather floating to the ground. "Oh my God," she said, trying not to raise her voice. Her eyes gleamed. Her blood burned with a strange heat that made her want to flee, but also stimulated her curiosity which overshadowed any fear she currently had. When she spoke, her voice was strong and steady—"Show me."

Chapter 5

Derrick and Kristin slipped out of the pub and started walking. Neither of them were familiar enough with the city yet to know where the good hangout spots were, so they just walked in silence until they came to a small park with two swings and a merry-go-round, no slide. Kristin sunk into a swing and pumped twice with her feet, then let the swing sort of roam over the dirt, too slow to lift her, too fast to just hang still.

"Funny that we're both back on the West Coast," Derrick said, taking the swing next to hers. He sat in it without moving.

"I'm not back," she said. "I never left." There was a bitter edge to her voice that Derrick wished he could wipe away with a kiss. It was dark and the air was warm, which was strange for early winter. The wind whipped around them, a light frenzy of energy seeping into Kristin’s skin and making it tingle.

Kristin had the urge to bicker. The longer they sat together, the more she realized she was pissed. "How could you not have written me?" she demanded.

He watched her in the darkness. She was angry. He could smell it. She was cute when she was mad.

"I did write," he said.

"What? When?" She snapped her head towards him.

"For the first six months I wrote every day. I thought you didn't write back because you'd moved on. That's what my parents said. Then one day I found my letters, still stamped, rubber banded together in a shoe box in my mom's closet."

Kristin's jaw fell open. At least now she could pinpoint where to direct her rage. "So it's your parents I hate. Not you?"

Derrick grinned. "You don't hate me."

"Yes, I do." She turned her head and pretended to be extraordinarily interested in the rust on the swing's chain.

He reached across the space between them and brushed her arm with his fingertips. It was no more than a second's touch, but thick waves of heat shot up her body. She looked back at him and felt the corners of her lips curl up. "Do too hate you," she said, then giggled.

Derrick was glad to see her smile. Her lips were too perfect to frown. They deserved smiles. "Do you know what happened between our parents?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Do you?"

"I think so. When I hit puberty, and started changing, my parents thought yours should know. We spent so much time together, they were afraid I might shift in front of you and scare you." He looked at her with apologetic eyes. "It's hard to control when it first happens. Your parents freaked out. I guess it's understandable. I mean... I am a dangerous predator."

He looked at her and wiggled his eyebrows. She giggled.

"So, that's it? That's the big secret after all these years? You're a werewo—a were-panther? What the hell do I call you?"

"Derrick always worked before," he said, and her laughter carried to his ears, a brilliant song in the still, night air.

"So, you gonna show yourself, panther-man? Or does the moon need to be full?"

"Watch the merry-go-round," he said, and began stripping off his clothes.

Kristin started to open her mouth but shut it when she saw Derrick's hair start to grow. It was already a little shaggy, but as he walked his hair seemed to stretch. By the time he got to the merry-go-round it was past his shoulders. He turned back to her once before sending the merry-go-round into a fast spin. His eyes had turned into gold coins that gleamed in the moonlight.

The merry-go-round spun once, twice, and on the third spin Derrick sent it into circles so fast it reminded Kristin of a tornado. He began to run alongside it, a racecar on its track. She was sure he'd get dizzy and stop, but his speed only increased. His focus intensified. As he ran, his clothes came off. She averted her eyes, but when his torso began to elongate—it almost looked like he was melting—she couldn't pull her eyes away. His face changed. His golden skin grew dark, and when he looked towards her a second later his face was black silk and his eyes were a golden hazel she'd never seen before.

He was running so fast he overtook the merry-go-round and jumped on. A second later he jumped off again. Then he jumped over it. He's playing with it, she thought, smiling. A big toy for a big cat. She'd never seen a black panther so close before. She watched, transfixed, until the merry-go-round slowed down. Feeling like she’d pass out, Kristin put her head between her knees.

Derrick was back beside her in an instant, human again, his hands on her back. "Are you okay?" he asked, sounding anxious. "Did I scare you?"

Kristin was a little disappointed to see he had his pants back on.

"How could you not have told me?" she asked. Blinding fury raged up in her so strong she went to slap him, but at the last second she pulled back and ended up slipping her hand through his hair instead. He caught it and held it.

Derek looked at her with eyes so blue that even in the dark she could still read the heartache that echoed hers. "What was I supposed to say? I barely understood it myself."

Her face crumpled. If he'd told her any of this when she was fifteen, how would she have reacted? Would she still have loved him? She buried her head against his chest as tears pooled in her eyes. Kristin was suddenly very aware that he was naked. Muscles bulged from his chest, crafting deep, hard lines into his abdomen that made his chest look like a map of mountains and valleys.

"I never forgot you," she said, “us, I never forgot us.”

Derrick took a deep breath and inhaled her scent. It wasn't just vanilla, he realized. There were bits of lavender and eucalyptus intertwined throughout. She smelled like heaven. A thin film of sweat broke across his forehead. His heart pounded. He could hear hers pounding too. The moonlight fell across her face and when she tilted her head up Derrick couldn't help himself. He pressed his lips to hers.

As their lips touched, lightning struck them both. At least it felt like lightning. The energy wasn't just perceived, it was palpable. Long tendrils of bright light erupted from Derrick's limbs. They swam towards Kristin, circling her before devouring her in his blaze.

Kristin didn't know if what she saw was real, she only knew her hair was glowing. Her face felt like pure energy. She opened her eyes and it was like seeing the world for the first time. The air was almost visible with color. How had she missed the smell of pine trees and approaching rain that filled her nostrils so fully now? Derrick's own scent was magical. She could almost smell his blood calling to her.

Derrick brushed his lips over hers a second time and the impact was like an asteroid hitting Earth. She grabbed his neck, pulling him to her, needing to make him a part of her. He kissed her harder, the strange light around them pulsing as their hearts throbbed and their breath quickened. The kiss lasted an eternity, but still not long enough. When they parted, the lights faded and the air returned to normal, but there was a lingering buzz that seemed to follow them.

Derrick shook his head, clearing it. "I've heard the stories," he said, "but I thought they were all bullshit."

"Stories?" she asked, breathless. "What are you talking about?"

"Panthers don't often mate with one person. We meet someone, are with them," he looked a little embarrassed, "and then move on. But you... you're my life-mate. That's rare Kristin, really rare. You're my soul mate."

She started to protest, then realized it was just nervous energy making her take exception. In truth, she felt it too.

"Now what?" she asked.

Chapter 6

The locker room was a madhouse. Champagne spilled into glasses, onto the floor, and over Coach's head. Kristin glowed in the corner as Derrick and Tate did some kind of chest bump. Then Derrick turned his head, ran to her, and picked her up in a giant bear hug, swinging her around the room. Her curves felt good under his hands, and when he kissed her a dozen football players—including Coach—made little woooooo noises like second graders.

The team knew about the two of them almost from the start. That night at Palidio's they'd seen them leave together and made a few assumptions. Tate had tried to get the details out of Derrick, but he'd acted like he didn't know what Tate was talking about. Derrick and Kristin had simply thought that, for now, it would be better to keep their relationship between themselves. Especially given the situation with their parents. Of course, the team wasn't about to let a secret this big slip by.

A few days after the merry-go-round, Tate and some of the guys had tried to hook Derrick up with a cheap blonde they "all knew and loved." They'd played her up to Kristin more than Derrick, making sure she knew how beautiful the blonde was and how good in bed. Kristin knew they were baiting her and had successfully ignored it all until the blonde had shown up in the locker room and started trying to give Derrick a lap dance. Then Kristin had gone a little bananas. She'd thrown a drink in the girl's face and called her a name or two that may or may not have been appropriate to the situation. Derrick had pulled her off the blonde and hustled her out of the stadium.

She heard the team laughing as Derrick dragged her off, shouting to each other, "Told ya. Our doc's a wildcat!"

Kristin had never felt so deeply humiliated in her life and was afraid she might even lose her job. Derrick told her not to worry, that it was just the team being a bunch of asshats, but that didn't do anything to stop the jitters that etched their way into her nerves. At the next practice though, all that had happened was that Coach had wagged a finger at her and told her to be careful 'cause football players were all a bunch of "playboy bums," and the rest of the team had started pinning little love letters to Derrick's locker. They'd also stuck a box of chocolate flavored condoms in her medical bag and sent Derrick and her matching lace underwear.

Now, as the team celebrated yet another victory—all the papers called the Peregrines unstoppable—Kristin felt thrilled to be included. Tonight, the Peregrines had really outdone themselves. They were a shoo-in for the playoffs, and Derrick was on the verge of beating Randy Wolfe's record. In two more games Wolfe and Derrick would be pitted against each other for the second time in their careers, and Derrick was certain it would be the game where he set a new world record for rushing yards.

"Celebration tonight!" Tate shouted. The players cheered and Kristin felt the cold rush of champagne spill over her head. She spun around just in time to see Tate run off, leaving her covered in sparkling alcohol, Derrick grinning like an idiot.

"Guess you're one of the guys now."

***

"So, do you want to tell your parents first, or should I tell mine?" Derrick asked the next day when they were alone. He was teasing—sort of. They were having a late lunch at Luigi's and Kristin's spaghetti was growing cold as she and Derrick argued once again about when, exactly, they should say something to their families. He knew perfectly well that she didn't want to tell her parents anything.

"They're gonna freak out."

"So?" he asked. "Let them." She shook her head, tired of this revolving conversation. She knew she couldn't keep their relationship a secret forever, and she didn't want to—she was crazy in love and wanted to shout it from the rooftops—but she also knew this was going to be more than just a little problem for her family.

The back booth at Luigi's was dark and quiet, and Kristin leaned across the table and kissed Derrick, grabbing his hand and rubbing it against her chin. Sparks raced up his spine and he felt the familiar tingle in his stomach as butterflies swarmed. She was trying to distract him, and it was working.

"Nice try," he said. "But you're going first."

"What?" she squealed. "Why should I go first?"

"Because this is all your fault. I got traded to Washington. You chose to be here. I had no control. You did. Hence, you go first."

He smiled and stuffed a forkful of steak into his mouth. Kristin found him infuriating, yet too adorable to stay mad at. “Skewed logic, Derrick.” She ripped a piece of garlic bread off her plate and stuffed it into her mouth.

"There's nothing sexier than angry chewing," Derrick said, and Kristin stuck her tongue out. No matter how stressed she was, he was always able to make her laugh.

A photographer who happened to be dining at Luigi's tonight too spotted them in their corner. A picture of Derrick Wellborn with a cute girl could be worth a lot—the public had an insatiable appetite when it came to Wellborn—but it was worth a lot more if the girl in question was famous.

The photographer studied their table for a minute before concluding that this girl was no actress or model. But after closer examination he thought she might be worth more than any of those dime-a-dozen floozies Wellborn was so fond of. The papers had scores of photos of Wellborn and some star or starlet. This wasn't just another two-bit extra the guy was out with. Wellborn was in love. It was written all over his face. The goofy grin... the love-sick glow. He had the look of someone who's girl could do no wrong. The photographer pulled his "off the clock" camera from his pocket and snapped a picture.

Chapter 7

"What were you thinking?" Kristin's mom shouted. Her voice rang in Kristin's ear like a fire alarm, piercing her eardrum.

"Mom, I'm not a child anymore. I date men. I date Derrick. Deal with it."

She heard her father in the background. His voice, usually soft and teacher-like, roared like a bulldozer, "You tell her she is FORBIDDEN to see that boy again. I want her home NOW."

Kristin held the phone away from her ear. Are they crazy? Home now? Like she was still a teenager and they could ground her and lock her in her room?

She wished now that she'd listened to Derrick and told her parents before that stupid picture of them had gotten into the papers. They were going to find out eventually, she'd only prolonged the execution. And not even for very long. Kristin decided to try a new approach.

"Listen. I know about Derrick." There was silence from her parents, and for a second she wondered whether they'd heard her. "I mean... you know... his shifter stuff."

She felt like she was talking to them about sex. It was a strange conversation to be having.

Her parents were silent. "Are you guys there?"

Then her mother started screeching. "What happened? Did he attack you? Did he—did he bite you?"

Kristin laughed. She couldn't help it. She wished Derrick would bite her. Well, maybe not bite, but something. The kissing was great. The touching was great. But it was all very PG rated. Derrick, like most athletes, wouldn't even think of having sex before a big game, let alone during any kind of winning streak. They'd kissed a few times, but mostly just held hands a lot.

"No Mom, he didn't do anything. He just told me the truth, that's all. He had to. He loves me." She paused, waiting for her words to sink in before dropping the big bomb. "And I love him."

She thought she heard her mom start to cry on the other end and considered pointing out that if her parents were really psychic, as they claimed, none of this should come as a surprise. But her mom's wails were too much and Kristin let it drop. Her mom's words came out broken and breathy, "This is exactly what we were always afraid would happen."

Her father grabbed the phone from her mom. "We're flying up."

Kristin heard her parents struggle for the phone and then her mom shouted, "There's no time. We have to tell her now before he kills her."

Kills me?  They really were nuts. That didn't stop the hair on her arms from standing up.

"Mom, I'm not going to die," Kristin said, trying to calm them down, but some of her confidence had drained. Derrick would never hurt her. Not in a million years. Still, an image from Old Yeller flashed through her mind...

"Honey, honey," her mom said, finally winning the struggle for the phone. "You don't understand. He's using you. Panther shifters look for mates to reproduce with, then either leave them or kill them when their job is done. They're heartless."

"No," Kristin said, her confidence returning now. "Derrick wouldn't do that. Besides, I'm his life-mate." Both her parents laughed, the kind of laugh that insinuated the ones laughing knew something you didn't.

Her mom must've finally hit speakerphone, because both her parents' voices rang out clear now. "There's no such thing," her father said. "That's nothing more than a legend. A story panther shifters tell their kids at night. It's not true."

"How do you know?" she asked.

"We've been hunting them for years," her mother said. "It's our job to know."

"Hunting?" Kristin thought she'd misunderstood for a second. "You don't mean... like hunting? With bows and arrows and guns and stuff?"

"Well, not exactly bows and arrows. And we use special bullets, plus a few other shifter-specific things, but essentially... yes." Kristin paused. It was her turn to let their words sink in. "Didn't you ever wonder?" her mom asked.

"Wonder about what?" Kristin felt like her brain was melting. Everything she thought she'd known was wrong somehow. Ghosts and ghouls did exist. Boogeymen were real. The fairytales got it right.

"About any of it?" her mom asked in disbelief. "The books, the stakes, the psychic awareness classes... Didn't you ever wonder why we did it all?"

"Be-because you saw that documentary," she mumbled.

"Oh honey."

"We never should have told her that," her father said.

"But you... you don't really kill people. Do you?"

"Not people," her father said. "Shifters."

Kristin's stomach churned. "You know what, I think I need to go."

"You can't trust him," her father said.

"He doesn't care about you," added her mother.

Kristin pleaded with them, "But I love him."

"At least he's not a wolf," her father mumbled.

***

Randy Wolfe logged onto his tablet to send an email and was blasted with the news—yet again— that his record was about to get beaten. His lips curled back. A low snarl rose in his throat. He didn't know why everyone was jumping to that conclusion. There was no way he was going to let that hustler Derrick Wellborn beat him.

His hands shook as he tried to check his email. His fingers were thick and he kept hitting the wrong buttons. "Damn it!" he howled. His second in command ran into the room.

"Alright?" he asked.

Randy glared at him. "If I need you I'll summon you," he yelled. Tom backed out of the room, head lowered. Sometimes Randy hated having a pack to deal with.

He didn't know how just yet, he only knew that it was his new mission in life to stop that poser boy Derrick Wellborn from damaging his record. Another shot of Wellborn scrolled across the screen. A picture of a pretty, curvaceous girl sat next to him. Wellborn was staring deep into her eyes like some stereotypic love-sick puppy. It made Randy sick. He read the caption that went with the picture:

Is football's most eligible bachelor off the market. Doctor Kristin Walker is the new envy of women everywhere as she dines with Derrick Wellborn, who looks smitten.

Randy closed his eyes and took a breath, an idea forming. It wasn't exactly what he had wanted, but it was always good to have a backup plan.

Chapter 8

The locker room was moving. It was always moving before a game. Derrick was the only one who was still. He sat on a bench and reread the email his father had sent.

They're hunters. Stay away from her.

Kristin walked into the locker room and Tate whipped a towel at her. "Sorry," he said, when it snapped in her face, stinging her eyes.

"Tate!" Coach screamed. "You're staying after the game and helping the janitors!" Tate shrugged his shoulders and ran off.

"And what's with you?" Coach yelled at Derrick? "Get it outta your head whatever it is and get in the game!"

Coach walked away shaking his head and mumbling something to himself about wishing he had a cookie.

Kristin went to Derrick, who looked up and smiled automatically. The smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "What's wrong?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Later," he said, then stood up and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before trotting out to the field.

The game didn't go well. The first quarter was rough. The Peregrines got clobbered. The second quarter was worse. Tate got injured and Kristin had to pop his dislocated shoulder back into place. It wasn't easy, especially with Tate thrashing around trying to get back out on the field. He would be out the rest of the season.

The third quarter picked up a lot. The team was really feeling the loss of Tate, who, despite his goofball antics in the locker room, was an excellent center and amazing for morale. Seeing him in the locker room at half time with his shoulder bandaged up in a sling, sitting in the corner with his head down like a two-year-old on a time out, the team rallied.

They decided to win one for Tate. Tate looked up and smiled, said "Great," then drooped his head back to the floor. Kristin tried repeatedly to get him to go to the hospital, but he refused to budge.

"What for?" he asked. "You've already done everything." Kristin couldn't argue with that. His shoulder was back in place. His arm was in a sling. She had pain killers if he wanted any.

Fourth quarter they pulled ahead, then fell behind again when Bolero fumbled the ball. He was harder on himself for that than the rest of the team could ever have been. It was Derrick who scored the winning touchdown with only two minutes left in the game. The crowd went wild. It was the closest the Peregrines had come to losing all season, which meant that it was also the sweetest victory.

The team celebrated their near loss in the locker room. "Don't know what you got to be celebrating," Coach shouted. "You guys looked pretty sorry out there tonight if you ask me." But they were too busy popping champagne and planning their victory celebration.

Kristin put her hand on Tate's arm. He brushed it off and sat with his back hunched. "It could be worse," she said. "I once treated a player who broke his femur in about a dozen places. He was a quarterback. Never played ball again. You'll heal. Next season, you'll be fine."

He looked at her with warm, wet eyes. "And what if this is my only chance at the Superbowl? We're going this year. Next year... who knows. I could get traded. I could get sick. This could've been it. And I blew it."

Kristin wished there was more she could do, but it was already December.  A dislocated shoulder would need at least 2 weeks to heal, and at least 6 before he could throw again.  "There's a slight chance you could be back in it towards the end," she said. It was true, but it was also a long shot.

He stared at his feet.

Derrick sat on the bench opposite them also staring at his feet. Kristin went up to him and smacked him on the back of his head. "What's wrong with you?" she asked. "Tate's in bad shape. Go over there and cheer him up."

He did as she told him, but it was all perfunctory. The two of them sat together, moping, while the rest of the team applauded themselves. They were already planning to meet at Palidio's.

"I'm passing tonight guys," Derrick told them.

"Me too," said Tate.

Kristin stared at the two of them. She knew why Tate was upset, but what was up with Derrick? She finally got him alone when he was leaving.

"Were you leaving without me?" she asked. They'd been inseparable since the merry-go-round.

"No. Just getting some air. Kristin, we need to talk."

Her heart seized. Derrick saw the panic on her face and dropped his duffel, pulling her into a hug. "Oh jeez. I'm sorry, I didn't mean, you know, that  'we need to talk.' I just meant... well, we do need to talk, but not in a bad way."

Her heart started beating again, for now.

"Don't scare me like that. What do we need to talk about?" She was still eyeing him suspiciously.

He didn't want the team overhearing. And reporters were swarming everywhere. "Let's talk back at my place. Cool?" Kristin nodded. She followed him in her car, a ritual they'd begun to establish, and when they got inside she sunk into his cozy couch cushions and almost passed out she was so exhausted.

The first time she'd seen his place, her eyes had popped out of her head. It was a penthouse suite in a fancy building with a French name, and a gorgeous view of the city from every window. She'd asked how he'd found such a fabulous place so fast, and he'd told her he'd had his assistant take care of it. She hadn't realized until then that he had an assistant.

"What did your family say?" he asked. She was instantly alert.

"That I should stay away from you."

He nodded. "Mine too. But mine also said..." He looked at her full pink lips, her round face and creamy skin against the dark brown of his couch. She looked like Snow White. He didn't care what her parents were, only what she is. "Your parents are hunters," he said. "They kill my kind."

Kristin's eyes flooded with angry tears. She hated her parents for putting her in this position "I'm sorry," she said, jumping off his couch and throwing her arms around him.

"For what?"

"They told me on the phone. I didn't want to believe it. I just... I just…it’s horrible. I wish everyone could be friends again. Like they used to be.”

He held her tight and smelled her skin. "Maybe they can be," he said.

She pulled back, watching to see if he was serious. His eyes sparkled. She wondered if she'd ever stop breaking out in goosebumps every time he touched her. She hoped not.

"Maybe we can throw a big party and invite them all."

Kristin laughed. "Derrick, I don't think there's any way our parents will agree to be in the same room together, unless they're trying to kill each other."

"They will if there's a big enough reason for them to come together."

Something about the look in his eyes made her suspicious. "Like what? You know my parents think they’re psychic, right?"

Derrick tilted his head. "Are they really?" he asked, curious. She shrugged.

"Let's find out," he said. "Tell them you're pregnant."

Chapter 9

Kristin's parents cried. Derrick's parents cursed her.

"This is the stupidest, most idiotic plan ever," Kristin said. "I don't know how I ever let you talk me into this." Derrick shrugged. "They didn't seriously curse me, did they?" she asked Derrick, terrified.

"No, of course not," he said. "Just your family." He smiled to show he was joking, but Kristin didn't laugh.

The plan, despite Kristin's reservations, had worked. Dinner was planned for late tonight. They'd reserved a private dining room in a ritzy restaurant, hoping to entice their parents with good food and expensive wine. Mostly their parents had agreed to come so that they could talk some sense into the two of them.

Derrick had insisted she take his credit card and buy something special for the occasion. She'd bought a red dress from Dolce and Gabbana and matching Stella McCartney shoes. When she tried the dress on she felt like she was about to walk down a red carpet. It hugged every curve of her. Her waist and hips filled it out nicely, and her breasts formed a beautiful line of cleavage where most skinny women had a big gap. She wasn't exactly sure it was appropriate for the dinner they were planning, but she didn't care. She'd never owned a dress like that before.

Kristin got to the restaurant early, wanting to make sure everything was perfect. Derrick had said he'd meet her there. He was picking his parents up from the airport and heading straight to the restaurant. They refused to stay longer than was absolutely necessary.

Kristin's parent's felt much the same way. She'd tried to convince them to fly in for a few days, see her new place, sightsee, that sort of thing, but they'd only agreed to dinner. One evening, nothing more. They were planning on flying back to Los Angeles right afterwards. They simply didn't want anything to do with Washington. The idea of Derrick and his family had sullied the whole state for them forever.

When she was shown to their table, she was surprised to find her parents already seated there, sipping wine. Her mom looked beautiful, as always. She had the same red hair as Kristin, though with strands of gray woven through. Her skin was pale and silky, and her brown eyes sparkled in the light of the room.

Her father was balding but still had thick, dark brown patches of hair above his ears. His eyes were brown but lighter than her mother's, and he had a short scar across his forehead. Kristin remembered when he got the scar working in their yard one day—she wondered now if that was the real story behind the scar. She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"Hi," she said, her heart hammering. Her parents were never early. They stood up when she came in and took turns embracing her.

"So where is the monster?" her mom asked.

"You mean Derrick?"

"Who else would I mean? Unless you've decided to bring some vampire friends and a banshee you've been hiding." She stopped and looked more closely at Kristin. "You haven't, have you?"

"No!" Kristin shouted, then realized what her mom had just said. "Are banshees and vampires real?" she asked, looking around the crowded restaurant.

Her mom and dad exchanged a look. "Here, we brought you this," her dad said, handing her a book. It wasn't wrapped, except for a plastic grocery bag. The title said, Were-Creatures: How to Protect Yourself. On the cover was a werewolf with giant fangs and red eyes.

"Gee, thanks."

Her mom leaned into her so no one else could hear. "Honey, you can't have this child. It's wrong. You must know that."

"They're animals," her father said.

It was at that moment that Derrick arrived with his parents. Derrick was the spitting image of them. He had his father's dark hair and his mother's blue eyes. Both his parents were tall and trim, and his father obviously still had muscles under his shirt, even at 60.

They stood glaring at each other, each side ready to strike if attacked. Finally, Derrick went to Kristin, took her hand in plain sight of everyone, and pulled her to him. They kissed, and when their lips touched it was impossible not to see the passion behind it.

Kristin heard her mother gasp. "Take your hands off my daughter."

"Tell her get her hooks off my son," Derrick's mom spat right back.

"See?" Derrick said, turning on them both. "We didn't burst into flames."

Their parents grumbled and shuffled into seats opposite each other, where they sat glaring at one another and looking like they were stuck in a jail cell rather than a beautiful restaurant. The waiter came around and Kristin felt sorry for him. The mood was so foul at their table that it seemed to seep into the poor guy. When he finally got out of there he looked a bit depressed. At least food was on the way.

"First, the good news," Derrick said, standing up and looking at Kristin. He mouthed the words Tell them.

She stood up next to him. "I'm not pregnant," she said, relieved to finally be saying it. Their parents stared at them for a moment, then everyone started yelling at once.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"What do you mean she's not—"

"That's the best news I've heard all year!"

"What the hell is the matter with you two?"

Derrick and Kristin grabbed each other's hands and took a step back.

Derrick tried to talk. "We didn't mean—"

"Didn't mean to lie to your mother and me? Do you know how upset she's been?" He turned to Kristin's father. "My son, the liar."

Kristin's mother yelled, "Was this your idea young lady? I should've kept you in the house till you were thirty!" She looked at Derrick's mom. "Have you ever heard of a daughter trying to kill her own mother with lies?"

Derrick's mom shook her head before sinking back into her chair. "Thank God," she said.

"Amen," Kristin's father muttered.

"Guys, guys," Derrick shouted, sounding a bit like Coach. "LISTEN!" They finally stopped talking and four sets of eyes turned on them, waiting for an explanation. "We just wanted you to be friends again. We didn't know how else to bring you together."

Kristin nodded frantically. "Yeah, you two are so stubborn sometimes," she said to her parents.

Their food arrived just then and Kristin and Derrick were saved. Their parents glared a little less at each other, choosing instead to glare at the two of them. Their anger had been refocused, and seemed to be bring them closer together. Halfway through dinner Derrick whispered to Kristin, "I think it's going well."

He was right, actually. The atmosphere in the room had lightened, and their parents were starting to laugh together, like old times. There were questions and compliments, stilted and awkward, but they were there, and Kristin was suddenly hopeful.

"So, what do you do now Jerry?" Kristin's father asked.

"That’s a lovely necklace, Carol," Derrick's mom said.

When Derrick stood up and clinked his glass with a fork, everyone stopped talking. There were actually smiles at the table instead of frowns.

"This wasn't exactly how I planned this," Derrick said. His cheeks were red and his eyes burned sky blue. "But I don't want to waste any more time. I hope you all can see that we're in love. We always have been, ever since we were kids. You can see that now, right?" Their parents reluctantly assented. "Well then..." Derrick dropped to his knee.

Kristin's brain short circuited and her eyes bugged out of her head. She had no idea where it had come from, but a small, ruby box sat in Derrick's palm. He opened it to exposed a brilliant diamond that shined like sun on snow. It was so bright it almost hurt her eyes. The round stone sat in a perfect platinum setting that made her feel like a queen, and it wasn't even on her finger yet.

"Kristin, I love you. No amount of time or distance will ever change that. Marry me."

It was short and simple, but it was also exactly the right thing to say. Kristin reached for the box without a second's thought. She stared at it, transfixed. Her eyes were wet and she was shaking. Derrick didn't know whether he should apologize or kiss her?

"Is that a yes?" he finally blurted.

"Yes! Yes!" Kristin jumped into his arms, forgetting their parents for a moment. That's when all hell broke loose.

Kristin's mom threw a dinner plate at Derrick's head. Derrick's father retaliated by trying to stab Kristin's father with a fork. Food flew through the air. Dishes and glasses shattered on the floor. Two waiters ran in only to be chased out again.

"I told you we should've brought the stakes," Kristin's father shouted.

Kristin grabbed her mother's arm to prevent her from breaking a bottle of wine over Derrick's mom's head, only to be brought down by a chair as Derrick's mom threw it across the room at them. Derrick tried to grab both his parents and hold them back, resulting in a strange blur of animal imagery as the three of them shifted in and out to various degrees.

The restaurant called the police, and by the time the cops showed up all parties involved had fresh battle scars and a fair amount of blood loss.

Chapter 10

Randy Wolfe watched the news report with greater interest than usual. Derrick Wellborn had been arrested. His girlfriend too. In fact, the whole family was currently behind bars. Some sort of fight at a high end restaurant. He vaguely wondered what it was all about, but didn't think it was relevant to his plan at this time.

Tom came into the room. Randy made him wait before acknowledging his presence. "What is it?" he finally asked.

"Sir, there's a reporter on the phone."

"I've already told you," Randy snarled, "no reporters. I'm sick of them."

"Yes Sir, but this one's from Sports Illustrated." It was a dream of Randy's to be on the cover of the magazine he'd grown up reading, and he'd been ecstatic when the magazine contacted him a few weeks ago for an interview. Every idol he'd ever had had graced the cover at one time. Oh, he acted like it was no big thing, but the truth was it was almost as big a deal to him as when he'd beaten the old world's record for rushing yards.

Randy jumped up from his chair. "Why didn't you say that to begin with?" he said through gritted teeth.

"Well I tried to," Tome said. Randy snapped his foot out and hit Tom's head like he was kicking a football. He was a running back on the team, but he was a pretty good kicker too.

"Hello, this is Randy Wolfe," he spoke into the receiver. His voice was soft and calm.

"Hi Mr. Wolfe, this Brady Williams. I know we've got the interview lined up for next week, but we thought we'd do a sort of pre-cover first, with you and Mr. Wellborn. Then follow it up with an issue for each of you after he beats your record. I wondered if we could arrange a short phone interview for tomorrow. Shouldn't take more than 10 minutes."

Randy listened to all this quietly... gracefully, and when Brady Williams had finished talking, Randy agreed to whatever interview they liked. Then he hung up and threw the phone across the room.

"Tom!" he howled.

Tom was there in a second. "Yes Sir?"

"Things have gotten too far out of hand. We're moving on my plan sooner than expected." He looked at Kristin's picture on the internet. Derrick was too much in love for his own good. If he broke Randy's record, Randy would have no choice but to break something of his too.

***

The sun was shining when Kristin Walker stepped out from Derrick Wellborn's penthouse apartment building and put on sunglasses she pulled from her pocket. She went to the corner newsstand, which was quickly becoming something of a novelty—most people these days got their news from the internet—and bought a paper. The front page showed a really bad picture of her in a really good dress, which had, unfortunately, been splattered with greasy brown meat juice when her mom threw a steak at her.

The evening couldn't have gone more wrong. But, that wasn't the thing Kristin cared about right now. It was the caption under their picture.

Derrick Wellborn and fiancée Kristin Walker...

Her heart thrilled at the title. Fiancée. It was like an aphrodisiac to her. She felt the heat start in her feet and creep towards her chest. It was like she was glowing on the inside. She walked towards her own apartment, in dire need of a change of clothes. Derrick had given her a shirt of his to put on over her dress, and she was pleased to find that even with her full frame it was much too big for her. Her breasts were almost nonexistent in the soft cotton. But it also made her look like a pillowcase.

She paused beside a coffee shop, thinking maybe she'd pick up a latte and croissant to take home with her. Derrick had offered to make her breakfast, but she'd still been too worked up over the brawl between their parents. Now, however, out in the sunlight, things felt better. She didn't care if her family hated his. They wouldn't be the first married couple to have families who hated each other.

She held her hand out to a ray of sun that streamed towards her. Her ring shined just as much now as it did when Derrick slipped it on her finger last night. She was glad. She'd been worried the ketchup bottle Derrick's father emptied on her might have tarnished it. To be fair, the ketchup had been meant for her father.

"Look Mommy," a little boy said, pointing towards Kristin. For a moment, Kristin thought the kid had recognized her from the news, but then he said, "It's him!"

Kristin turned to look where the kid was pointing and saw Randy Wolfe standing behind her. She was surprised to see him. He smiled at her, his teeth gleaming almost as much as her diamond ring. She smiled back, feeling suddenly uneasy. She watched the little boy run up to him, arms outstretched, holding a pen and paper. Randy smiled, but it seemed false. He signed the kid's paper, but his eyes never left her.

Kristin started walking, wanting to get away from him. When she looked behind her, Randy was following.

Don't be silly. He's in town for the game. It's in a few days. He just arrived a little early. He's taking a walk. It's nice outside.

But something didn't feel right. She picked up her pace. Randy picked up his. Kristin started running. A crack in the sidewalk caught the heels she still wore from last night and she tripped and went sprawling.

Heavy footsteps echoed behind her. Kristin's heard thudded against her chest. Randy Wolfe stood above her. The sun blinded her when she tried to look at him. All she could see was his hand, stretching towards her. He took hold of her and picked her up off the ground, then handed Kristin her purse.

"Oh, thank you," she said.

"No problem," said Randy, and kept walking.

Chapter 11

Kristin reread the letter her mother and father had both signed. Not an email, an actual letter. Express delivery. Kristin couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten an actual letter in the mail. And it was so formal, like it had been sent by a bank examiner rather than her parents.

To: Kristin Walker

From: Carol and Tim Walker,

Your father and I would like to ask you, one last time, to discontinue your association with Derrick Wellborn. You know our reasons. Please understand that at this point, if you do not comply with our wishes, we will have no choice but to disavow you as our daughter. You will no longer exist to us.

We will always love you, but we will love you in memory only. If you choose to go your own way on this matter, we will mourn you as we would mourn the passing of someone we once loved. From that point on, you will be dead to us.

Sincerely,

Carol and Tim Walker

"Christ that's harsh," Derrick said, handing it back to her.

She sat on his floor with her legs crossed. It had been two days since the restaurant incident. Coach had chewed them both out about that, then congratulated them on their engagement. The initial charges had been dropped, as Derrick had paid for any damages—and more—incurred during the brawl.

"Have you heard from your parents?" she asked, hoping for better news. If his could come around, maybe hers would too.

Derrick sighed. "Yeah, I have. It's not much better though."

He grabbed his cell phone off the table and played his parents' voicemail on speaker phone:

"Derrick," heavy sob, "this is the woman that used to be your mother." Another heavy sob. "I just want you to know that I love you, son, but your father and I can't watch you ruin your life." Here Derrick's mom burst into tears and became completely incoherent. His father took over. "Do you see what you've done? You've made your mother hysterical. HYSTERICAL! Don't fuck your life up over some hunter floozy. If you can't stay away from her, then stay away from us." His mother burst into even louder sobs and there was a click.

"Wow," Kristin said. "That's some kind of a guilt trip, huh?"

"Yep."

"Did it work?"

"Yep."

She laughed and put her hand over her face. "Oh my God, what are we gonna do?"

"I don't think there's anything we can do."

Derrick took her hand in his. It reminded her of that last time they were together when they were 15 and he'd taken her hand to warm it. The air at the beach had been cold, and her hands were like ice cubes. Derrick had taken them in his, kissed them, and then kissed her. It had been their first real kiss. And then he'd disappeared from her life for over a decade.

"Let's fly to Vegas and get married," Derrick said.

Kristin started laughing. "You're not serious."

"The hell I'm not." He watched as her hair swung over her shoulders when she spun her head towards him. He liked the way it whipped around like a red halo. The buzz they'd felt that night at the playground still hovered in the air. It was all around them, like an electric force that held them together in their own private universe.

Kristin stopped laughing and stared at him. "You are serious." She gulped for breath, a fish out of water. "But... the game... the-the... parents..."

Derrick shrugged. "Screw them. You know what I realized the other night? That whatever their problems are, they're just that—their problems. I love you. I don't ever want to lose you again."

"But the game is tomorrow!"

Derrick heaved a sigh of frustration then shot her his award winning smile—the charmer he used to get on all the magazine covers. One day, its effect on her might wear off, but he didn't think that day was here yet.

"It's early. Vegas isn't far. We can make it back for the game."

Kristin stared at him, disbelieving. She looked at her watch. He was right. It was early. Only noon.

"I don't know..."

"Waiting on someone better?" he teased.

"No..." She smiled. "First one to the airport has to pay for the wedding."

"You're on."

***

Two hours next to each other on an airplane was almost impossible to handle. As close as they were, they couldn't touch each other. Not like they wanted to. Kristin's heart flip flopped like a fish out of water every time Derrick shifted in his seat, and Derrick's pulse raced every time Kristin brushed a strand of hair out of her face. Kristin made a half-hearted joke about joining the mile-high club, but when she looked in the bathroom she doubted there was enough room for anything like that.

When the plane finally landed, Kristin and Derrick jumped in a cab and had the driver take them to the closest wedding chapel he knew. "Wait! I don't have a dress!"

The driver didn't bat an eye. "I know a place," he said, and skidded them to a stop in front of a small dress boutique far off the strip.

"Wait here, you can't see it before the wedding," she said, jumping out of the cab.

"The wedding's now."

"Shut up and kiss me." She grabbed Derrick's collar and pushed her lips hard against his. Derrick watched with a thundering heart as she wiggled her salacious body into the store. She was inside 10 minutes before exiting in white heels with a knee length coat covering the majority of her dress. All he could see were what looked like little puffs of lace peeking out from under the coat.

The driver dropped them off at A Little White Wedding Chapel. "Want me to wait?" he asked. Derrick decided that was probably a good idea. They had a limited amount of time here, and he didn't want to waste it waiting for cabs.

Inside, the chapel was simple but cute. White walls, white pews, white curtains. It looked very clean. Then Elvis stepped out from the back in a gold suit and sunglasses. "Let's do this," he said and swiveled his hips.

Derrick couldn't believe how lucky he was. After thirteen years, cheap, meaningless women, he was finally marrying the one. His mate.

"Wait!" Kristin said, and ran from the room. Elvis started singing "Love Me Tender" and Kristin appeared in the doorway. Derrick's jaw dropped. Her dress stopped at her knees. It was layer upon layer of the most delicate silk Derrick had ever seen. It draped over her body, accentuating the voluptuous curves of her hips and rounding her waist into something so sensual it was almost lewd.

Thin strands of gold fiber were woven around the hem and bust, showing off her already large chest. Derrick's heart smashed against his ribcage, exploding into a thousand pieces as she slowly walked towards him. His hand almost crushed hers as the singing stopped and they began to recite their vows. Kristin felt the heat radiating off Derrick's skin even in the air-conditioned chapel. She was afraid if he held her hand too long, he might fry her like an egg.

"You can kiss the bride now," Elvis said five minutes later. She couldn't believe it was all over. It went too fast. A photographer had snapped some photos. Elvis had married them. She'd blinked and missed her own wedding. She was on the verge of a panic attack when Derrick's lips met hers. Any lingering misgivings melted away. Their bodies connected at a primal level that was too intense to go unnoticed. Elvis took his sunglasses off and watched with wide eyes as the heat from their bodies became a physical part of the air around them, spitting sparks onto the curtains and singeing them.

"Never seen that before," Elvis murmured.

It was like their bodies knew they'd just been married and were desperate to explore this new world they'd just entered into together. Elvis handed them a card, slipping his sunglasses back over his eyes. "You give that to the clerk at Caesar's Palace and you'll get a discount."

"Thanks," Derrick said, and pulled Kristin along so fast she almost missed grabbing their paperwork.

Chapter 12

At Caesar's, Derrick asked for the best room they had. "The best room would be the penthouse," the clerk said, sounding snotty.

"Sounds good." Derrick said.

"The penthouse occupies the majority of the top floor and is $10,000 per night." The clerk clearly did not recognize Derrick. He stared at Derrick, waiting for a reaction that did not come. Derrick handed him a credit card and then his attitude seemed to change.

"Can I send anything up to you Sir? Champagne? Chocolates? Flowers?"

"All of it," Derrick said.

The clerk beamed and made a note. Kristin wondered if they worked on commission.

The room was beautiful, almost to the point of being gaudy, but it was fun. Gold pillars ran from floor to ceiling in several places. White and gold curtains hung everywhere. And in the center of the room was a giant 4 pillar bed dressed with gold satin sheets and billowing silk curtains above the mattress that almost matched her dress. The room was lit, but barely. The effect was splashes of color that shined on the walls from the neon signs outside their window lined penthouse. It was like having Las Vegas inside your bedroom.

Kristin grinned and ran to the bed, throwing herself on top of it and bouncing like a child. Her body moved like a boat on water, bobbing with the waves. Her breasts sailed up and down and her legs crossed each other as she kicked them in the air, oozing sexuality.

"Come and kiss me," she purred. Derrick knew that technically having sex the night before a big game was akin to cursing yourself with bad luck, but after all they'd been through, he didn't believe in bad luck anymore. Only good luck. And Kristin was his good luck charm. Being with her now could only ensure victory for him tomorrow.

He went to the bed and she slid forward, wrapping her legs around him as he stood at the edge of the mattress, feet still on the floor. Everything they'd said to each other, all the kisses and caresses since they'd first met over a decade ago, had led to this moment.

Kristin had thirsted for this hour since seeing Derrick in the locker room her first day with the Peregrines. His feet were planted firmly on the floor, but she thought she could fix that. She hugged his legs with hers, sliding one up and down him like a snake. Then she squeezed just behind his knees and he buckled onto the bed, falling on top of her with a huge grin.

"Fancy seeing you here," she giggled. Her legs curled over his ass and she nuzzled her face against his neck, inhaling deeply. His scent seemed to change at different times of day. Right now he smelled like smoke and cinnamon. She'd have her whole life to get to know the different moods of his fragrance.

Derrick watched her move under him, captivated by the sensuous and suggestive ways she posed herself. She liked to tease, raising her head to kiss him then pulling back before their lips could touch. He restrained himself from going too fast. With the other women he'd been with, his goal had always been to climax. With Kristin, he wanted to explore every inch of her, savor every moment. He wanted her to know his mind along with his actions. He wanted her to feel his love reflected in his movements, not just the lust. The lust was a given.

He bent his head to her ear and began to nibble. Her body spasmed under him. Her legs wrapped tighter around his backside. The dress she wore was sheer enough at the top that he could see her bra peeking through, all lace and satin. Her breasts were perfect, and he longed to feel their luscious curves as his hands ran over her.

The hunger he felt for her raged inside him. He went from nibbling to biting. Her neck was smooth and creamy, her skin blushed as he ran his hand along her neck and down to her breast. Her body was precious to him. He started at her neck, lapping at it like a cat at a saucer of milk. The familiar itch of the panther prickled at the nape of his neck. The passion he felt for Kristin ignited a fury in him that he was afraid he wouldn't be able to control. He pulled away.

"What are you stopping for?" she asked, breathless. He sat back on his knees. She pulled herself out from under him and looked into his face.

"I'm finding it hard to control myself around you." She saw veins pulsing under his golden skin and the rapid movement of his chest as it rose and fell too fast to count. "What if I hurt you?" he asked.

"Would you?" Her voice was soft and her hand reached with tentative fingers to caress his face.

"No."

"Then don't try to control yourself. I want you to let go."

She stood from the bed and one hand reached behind her back. Derrick heard the zipper and a second later her dress was on the floor. Her polished skin was lustrous in the Vegas lights that poured in through their open windows, tinting her skin shades of red and gold. Her bra was pale pink with cream colored lace around the edges. It matched her panties. Derrick barely had time to take her in before her hands slipped behind her back again and her breasts tumbled out, round and firm with perfect pink nubs that danced in the neon lights of their room.

She crossed the floor to him and put one knee on either side of his body as she crawled back onto the bed. Derrick reached out and began to stroke the dark pink nipples that protruded from her chest. She moaned and tilted her head back. Her hair fell over her shoulders in long waves and he touched its softness, like silk, before leaning into her and allowing his tongue to find the soft pink pebbles on her chest.

She put her hands around his neck and held him to her. His tongue moved over the delicacy of her strawberry nubs, circling her until she moaned again. Suddenly she was leaning forward, her hands pulling his shirt over his head and flinging it across the room. Her tongue licked at his neck, then she pushed him back onto the bed and he grinned.

"The team was right. You are a wildcat." She bared her teeth at him before pulling his pants off and kicking them to the floor, underwear and all. Derrick was completely exposed to her now, just as she'd wanted. His arousal was obvious, long and thick and jutting out of his pelvis as though it was pointing at her. She was flattered to see the depth of his longing for her. She wrapped her hand around his shaft and moved it to the rhythm of the buzz that had followed them since the merry-go-round. It pulsed all around them, adding electricity to an already energy charged room.

She worked her magic on Derrick. His body was as she'd fantasized. The golden color of his skin was not just on his face. It was from head to foot, and the deep lines of his etched muscles stood out on every limb and rippled across his torso. Derrick followed Kristin's body with his eyes as she moved her hand over him, finding her way to the exact parts of him that were most sensitive. His passion soared again as her other hand ran over his inner thigh, and he suddenly sat up, laying her back on the bed as he kissed his way towards the soft mound between her legs. She shivered and spread herself for him as he stroked his tongue, cat-like, over her of her sensitive folds.

She responded to his every touch with a tremble or moan. He let his tongue be his paintbrush on the canvas of her soft flesh until the pounding of both their pulses was too much to bear. Then, he brought his face to within an inch of hers. He kissed her, letting her feel his erection against her sex. She pressed her core deeper against him. "Do it," she whispered, "before I go crazy."

He slid into her slowly, inch by exquisite inch, with such perfection it was like two puzzle pieces coming together. The effect was instantaneous. Her back arched and his stomach broiled. She dug her hands into his back as he moved inside her. "I'm not hurting you, am I?" he asked when he thought he saw her eyes water.

"No. I don't ever want this to end," she said, then moved her hips against his. Their bodies pulsed together, forming one unit. Light began to erupt around them, stronger than any Vegas neon. It was like they were on the surface of the sun. Kristin wanted to close her eyes but was afraid she'd miss the rainbow colors that emitted from their bodies, pouring forth from their energy. Derrick didn't have to think about what he was doing. His body was acting on some innate sense. It was like he and Kristin had been pre-destined for this moment, and his body already knew the moves.

His penis throbbed inside her and she felt it press against the sides of her channel, sending shock waves of heat deeper and deeper into her as he rocked faster and faster until finally the sun exploded all around them and Derrick and Kristin had no choice but to close their eyes and let themselves be carried on the solar waves of their passion.

They fell together, exhausted, feeling like they'd been melted by a nearby fire. "Let's do that again later," she said.

Derrick nodded and kissed her head. "Anything you say, Mrs. Wellborn."

Chapter 13

Derrick woke up feeling happier than he could ever remember being. He reached out an arm for Kristin and found an empty pillow. His eyes flickered open. She's probably in the shower.

The big game was today. Okay, it wasn't the Superbowl—not yet—but it was the day Derrick was gonna beat Randy Wolfe's record. He headed for the bathroom. The penthouse was huge. He could get lost in it.

"Kristin?" he called, pushing open the bathroom door. Empty. There was a second bathroom on the opposite side of the room. He walked to it and pushed the door open. "Kristin?" She wasn't there.

Panic started to prickle at him. But, that was ridiculous. Why should he panic? Because she changed her mind. He dismissed the idea, walking faster around the penthouse now, shouting for her. "Kristin! Kristin!"

Her dress was gone. They'd only brought a small overnight bag each. Hers was still there. "She's probably getting breakfast." He pulled his cellphone from the nightstand and dialed her number. He got her voicemail. He tried to sound bright and cheerful. "Hi, it's me. Call me please, I'm looking for you."

He wandered downstairs. It was 6am. They had a flight that left at 8am. The game started at 3. He had to hurry and find her. Maybe she was upset that they wouldn't get a proper honeymoon till after the Superbowl. He'd make it up to her if that was the problem.

He walked for five minutes that felt like hours. People passed by, a few stared, most didn't seem to notice him. They were all involved in their own romances, their own games. He called her phone again and this time it clicked over.

"Kristin," he sighed, relieved. "Where are you? I'm downstairs looking for you."

There was a low growl from the other end. Derrick thought for a second that he'd gotten the wrong number. "Kristin can't come to the phone right now. She's tied up at the moment." It was such a cliché thing to say, but that's why Randy thought it was funny.

"Who is this?" Derrick asked. He could barely get the words out.

"Guess."

He listened to the heavy breathing on the other end. To the deep tone of the threatening voice he'd heard on the news from time to time. "Randy?"

"That's right Wellborn. Do as exactly as I say and your girlfriend lives."

"Wife," Derrick corrected automatically.

Wolfe paused a moment. Derrick could almost hear him grin on the other end. "Wife," he repeated. "Even better."

***

Kristin wished she hadn't gotten hungry during the night. More than anything else at this moment, she wished she'd just gone back to sleep instead of downstairs for a snack. There was a fully stocked mini fridge in their room. Why hadn't she just gotten something from there? Her wrists burned as she tried freeing them from the ropes once again. It had only been a couple hours and her hands were already going numb.

"I have to pee," she called from the closet where she lay squinched up like a bug. The door opened and a man she didn't recognize stared down at her. He placed a bowl on the floor and shut the door again. "Are you serious?" she yelled.

She had no idea where she was. She barely remembered anything after bumping into Randy Wolfe. She'd thought it was a funny coincidence that he was in Vegas at the same time they were, until he'd pulled a gun on her and made her follow him to a limo waiting outside. She thought it was hilarious being abducted by a superstar in a limo, until the man inside the limo hit her from behind when she turned her head, and everything went black. She woke up tied up in this closet. She only knew it was a closet because there were clothes hanging in it.

"Hey!" she screamed again. "I'm not peeing in a fucking salad bowl!"

The door opened again, only this time the man who opened it had a bat. Kristin felt it collide with her head, and then she felt nothing else for several hours.

***

Derrick sat in the locker room, his head in his hands. His palms were sweating. He thought he was gonna puke again. Coach had been waiting to pounce on him for going to Vegas the night before a game, but when Derrick had finally arrived at the stadium he'd looked so bad, Coach had said nothing. Wolfe had sent Derrick a picture of Kristin, her hands tied, her face bloodied. The room spun as someone slapped his back to congratulate him again on his wedding. He was going to kill the fucker. Painfully. He put his head deeper between his knees and resisted the urge to shift that always tried to overtake him under times of great stress. Now was not the time. He had to think.

Let him have it. Wolfe could have the record. Derrick didn't care. All he cared about was getting Kristin back. If that meant he had to fake an injury and pull himself from the game for the rest of the season, so be it. Nothing was more important than saving her. Then he’d kill Randy Wolfe.

"You alright Derrick?" Tate asked, coming up beside him. His arm was still in a sling, but his depression had lessened.

"Fine," Derrick mumbled.

"You don't look so fine."

Bolero yelled from the back, "Didn't you hear? He got married last night? He'll never be fine again." The team cackled and Derrick put his hands over his ears.

Tate watched him carefully. "Where's Kristin?" he asked.

Derrick shook his head. Randy hadn't told him what to say when someone asked about her. "Out," was all he could think of.

"Out? What does that mean?" Tate laughed.

Derrick looked at him and Tate jumped back. His eyes were red and glowing a horrible black color that made him look like he belonged in a hospital bed.

"Come on guys. It's game time," Coach yelled. Derrick put his helmet on before anyone else could see his face and followed the others onto the field.

***

Tate couldn't believe how badly they were doing. The first quarter was just ending, and the Peregrines were down by 21. To nothing. Derek hadn't made it five yards across the field. Every time he moved he seemed weighted down with invisible sandbags. Coach was yelling at him on the sidelines. Tate wondered if he should say something to Coach. Derrick had looked more than a little sick before the game started. He’d looked like death.

Maybe if I get Kristin on the phone it would help. He couldn't believe she wasn't here. She was one of the few women he'd met that had a true love of sports. Derrick was lucky to have her, she was a pretty awesome lady.

Tate watched Coach scream some more at Derrick—he hadn't stopped screaming since yesterday when Derrick had left that message saying he was in Vegas. Tate finally felt bad enough for Derrick that he went down to the locker room to get his phone and track down Kristin. Only problem was, Tate didn't have Kristin's number. Derrick's locker was open and his phone was unlocked, sitting on the shelf inside. He opened it up and saw a new text message. Maybe it's her. Maybe they'd had a fight or something and she was texting now to say she was on her way.

He opened the message and almost dropped the phone. It was a picture of Kristin. Her face was a mass of bruises. Blood pooled around her nostrils. Someone held her head up by her hair, a picture of a Greek sailboat on the wall behind her unconscious head.

The message read: Try harder. We don't want people to think you're throwing the game, idiot.

Tate replaced the phone in Derrick's locker. He recognized the background in the shot. Son of a bitch. He'd seen that painting on the news recently when Randy Wolfe had bought it at auction.

Chapter 14

Halftime had just started. Coach was pulling Derrick into his office, screaming at him again. Tate dodged past everyone and yanked Derrick right out of Coach's path of attack, much to his dismay. Tate heard Coach screaming at him now as he ushered Derrick down the hall and to a semi-quiet corner.

"What—"Derrick started to ask.

Tate silenced him with a wave of his hand. "I know what's going on. I saw the picture of Kristin those fuckers sent you. I know where she is."

Derrick stared in silence at him, his brain going into overdrive. "Where?" he asked.

"Wolfe's house. That's who's got her, right? He wants you to throw the game?" The idea of it all made Tate sick. He'd heard of people betting on games, sometimes against their own teams, but stealing people's wives to force the outcome? He thought this might be a football first.

"Not exactly," Derrick's voice croaked. "He wants me to throw my game. Not the whole game. He doesn't care if we beat the Broncos or not, as long as I don't beat his record."

Tate's jaw fell open. "Of all the sick... Why didn't you call the cops?"

"I was afraid they'd kill her. I didn't know where she was. I couldn't risk that." Derrick's heart was thundering in his chest. He looked around the locker room to see if anyone else could hear it.

"Well, now we know. Let's call the cops."

Derrick shook his head. "No, by the time they get there, it could be too late. This guy’s obviously a few bricks shy of a full load. There’s no telling what someone so unstable might do."

"What do you mean?" But Derrick's lips tightened and his arms folded across his chest.

"Well fuck man, let's go get her ourselves then. Now!"

"What? During half time?"

"Yeah man, why not?"

Derrick considered this. They had at least twenty minutes before Randy would realize he was gone. Could they do it? He wouldn’t risk Kristin’s life.

Derrick's phone buzzed in his hand. He looked down at it, afraid to answer.

"Hello?" he put the phone to his ear.

"Derrick. Where's Kristin?"

It took him a minute before he realized who the voice belonged to. "Mrs. Walker?"

"Where is she?" her voice was urgent. Derrick didn't know what to say. Finally, he settled for the truth.

"Randy Wolfe has her."

"I knew it."

He heard Kristin's father in the back, cursing.

"You… how could you know?" Derrick asked. "Did he call you too?"

"I keep telling Kristin—we're psychic."

Derrick wanted to laugh, but how could he argue with them? They were calling him. They evidently knew something was wrong. Whether it was psychic ability, or some innate knowledge that sprung up when your child was in trouble, he had to admit there was something more than just guessing going on here.

"We're here in Washington," Kristin's mom said. "Tell us where to go."

***

Half time was ending. Wolfe took the field, his eyes searching for his enemy. He hated Wellborn. He was a smug punk, and not nearly as good looking as the women seemed to think. The whistle blew and everyone filed into place. His eyes searched the faces, but Wellborn wasn't there. He searched the sidelines. He'd played so badly the first half, their coach probably pulled him from the game.

"Idiot," Wolfe mumbled. Then the ball was in play and the third quarter was rolling quickly along. Wolfe got the ball and ran with it, scoring another touchdown for his team. Every new yard he gained, felt to him like he was sticking a dagger deep into Wellborn's chest. His eyes scanned the sidelines again, wanting to see Wellborn's face. Something didn't feel right.

"Time out," Randy yelled, and ran over to his coach. "Where's Wellborn?" he asked.

"What?"

"Wellborn, where is he?"

"How the hell should I know? What's the matter with you? Get back on the field!" His coach screamed but Wolfe ignored him. Their coach was always screaming. He started back onto the field, then veered to the Peregrines side, surprising the hell out of their coach.

"Where's Wellborn?" he shouted. This was getting ridiculous. He wanted an answer.

The coach smiled. "Worried he's gonna beat your record?"

Wolfe felt his body start to tingle and pulled it back in. Shifting in front of a million people was probably a bad idea.

Coach tried to ignore Wolfe. He'd never liked the guy. He was happy when the Peregrines had traded him last year. When he saw Randy wasn't going away, he finally decided to say something. "Don't worry about your record tonight Wolfe. You saw Wellborn the first half. Sick as a dog. Can't even stand. I had Tate take him home."

Wolfe turned and left the field.

Chapter 15

Tate was a life-long Washingtonian and knew very nook and cranny of the state. He knew exactly where Wolfe's place was without even having to use his nav.

"I keep forgetting that Wolfe used to be on the Peregrines," Derrick said, grateful for Tate's help.

"Yeah, but that was before I joined the team." Tate eyed him, the prankster in him wanting to surface even now. "You know there's rumors about Wolfe."

"What kind of rumors?" Derrick asked.

"Oh, people say he's a vampire. Likes to drink the blood of small children and animals. Nothing too unusual for football." He made the joke then instantly regretted it when Derrick didn't laugh. "Sorry man, I'm an asshole when I get nervous."

Derrick's face was set in a hard line that looked like he'd never laughed at a joke in his life. He wasn't mad at Tate though, he was in shock. They were pulling up to Wolfe's house and Kristin's parents had just arrived... along with his own parents. They stood glowering at each other, but at least no fists were flying.

"What are you doing here?" he asked his parents, jumping out of Tate's car before it had even stopped moving. He felt bad dragging Tate into this. He didn't even know the whole story, and there wasn't time to explain it.

"What are you doing here?" Derrick repeated.

His parents looked at each other and shrugged. "We never left. It was all a bluff. We could never disown you. You're our son." His father's words swelled Derrick's heart with warmth, but there was no time for warmth right now.

"How did you know we were here?"

Derrick's father nodded towards Kristin's parents.

"You called my parents?" Derrick asked, incredulous. If Kristin were standing here, she'd be thrilled about that. Just the thought of her sent cold shivers up his spine. The buzz that had been following them since the playground faded in and out. "We have to hurry," he said, his voice breaking.

"How do we get in?" Kristin's father demanded.

"I thought stakes were only for vampires," Tate said, joking, running a hand over a wooden stake poking out of a bag slung over the back of Kristin's father.

Kristin's father rolled his eyes. "If you stab anything through the heart with a stake, it will die. Doesn't matter what it is. Doesn't hurt to use wood, just in case."

The response caught Tate so off guard he stopped walking around and really took in the situation. Kristin's parents... Derrick's parents... kidnapping and wooden stakes. "What's really going on here?" he asked, suddenly sensing that there were important details he was missing.

Derrick turned to him, "Randy's a werewolf. I'm a werepanther. Vampires are real. Though, there aren't any here. I don't think." He looked at Kristin's parents. They shook their heads. "No, none here."

Tate laughed. "Uh—huh."

"We're wasting time," Derrick yelled. He was right.

Derrick's parents went behind some bushes, and when they came back out they were walking on all fours. His father leaped over the fence easily. His mother followed. Kristin's parents stood glowering.

"We're not leaving you here alone with her," her father shouted. Derrick's father jumped up on his hind legs and knocked something off the side of the gate wall. The gate fell open and Kristin's parents stepped through it.

"Of course we're not going to leave you behind," Derrick said, turning to Kristin's parents. "You need to trust us, just a little. Not all shifters are evil." Then he willed his muscles and bones to form the familiar shape that he'd come to love. The itch to run made its way to his brain, and he didn't fight it. Running was good. Especially since they had to hurry.

Tate stood beside Kristin's mother with his mouth on the ground. "Awesome!" he finally whispered before slipping through the gate after the others.

***

Kristin heard noises below her. She opened one eye. Her face felt like a tenderized beef patty. She tried to scream, but it came out in a whisper. "Hello?"

Derrick's ears perked up. He could already smell her, but there were a lot of smells in this house. Wolf scent was barely palatable to panthers, and he'd been having a hard time finding Kristin because of it. Now, with her whisper, he had a guide. He ran towards her.

Derrick was at the top of the stairs, his path clear, when Tom leaped from out of nowhere, blocking his way. Derrick roared. Tom rushed at him. They rolled around on the ground for a while, teeth grinding against each other's skin, before, with a swipe of his massive paw, Derrick slashed Tom's cheek open and he ran off whimpering.

"Wait!" Tate bounded up the stairs. "Wait for me!" Derrick wasn't waiting for anyone. Kristin was close. Her scent was stronger now that he was upstairs. He followed it into the bedroom and pushed the closet door open. His wife was lying on the ground, unconscious.

Derrick felt his relief at finding her crushed as he took in the sight of her body. Her lips were blue. Her dress was stained. Her whole face looked like a giant bruise. Her eyes were half opened, as thought she was hallucinating. He licked her face and her eyes began to focus. She smiled and Derrick's heart leapt.

"Derrick?"

He was encouraged that her voice was stronger than it had been a minute ago. She looked bad, but he could hear the strength behind her words. "Derrick, look out!"

He felt something dig into his back. It happened so fast, he wasn't sure what was attacking him. For half a second, he thought Kristin's parents had driven one of their stakes into him. He tried to spin and see what was hurting him, but whatever it was dug into his body too tightly.

Randy Wolfe hung onto Derrick, refusing to let go. The anger in him boiled over and he dug his claws deeper inside him, envisioning hitting some vital organ. Suddenly, Wolfe felt a slug to his head. He fell off Derrick's back and hit the ground, looking up just in time to see Tate bringing a baseball bat down on him. He jumped at Tate, slashing his chest open with a satisfying rip that left his heart beating out of his chest. Tate fell to the ground. Wolfe grinned. It was almost too easy taking down jocks like Tate.

Derrick felt the growl rise in his throat seconds before he tore through the air, lunging at Randy's throat, it was with the intention of drawing blood.  Randy turned, leaping at Derrick. They met in mid-air and clambered to the ground together.

More growls and roars sailed up from downstairs, and Kristin heard her parents scream. Her eyes flew open. She was wide awake now. Her head pounded and she felt like she'd gone through the windshield of a car, but she was alive. "Mom!" she screamed. "Dad! Up here! Help!"

Derrick and Randy rolled around the room together. Suddenly there were three more wolves in the room with them. The all pounced on Derrick. She could hear flesh ripping open.

"They're killing him!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, trying to get out of her ropes so she could help. She rolled across the room and got close enough to kick one, but it had no impact.

Two panthers appeared in the door then, followed by her parents, each holding a sword. She barely had time to wonder where the hell they had gotten swords before they all ran into the room together, each tackling a wolf. She watched, amazed, as her parents cut through the air with skill and efficiency, knocking the wolves down one by one. Derrick's parents moved so quickly, they were nothing but black streaks with razor teeth. As soon as her parents knocked a wolf to the ground, his were on top of it ripping it apart.

When the roars had stopped and the air was clear of wolves, Derrick shifted back to his human form. He was hurt but not dead. His parents, still panthers, huddled around Tate, whose chest was moving in shallow breaths. They took turns licking his wounds, which began to heal over, but not fast enough.

Derrick cradled her in his arms. Her hands, finally free, wrapped around his neck, pulling him close. There was a soft whimper from the corner and Kristin opened her eyes to see Randy pulling himself along the floor, his leg dangling off him in an unnatural way. She wanted to feel bad for him, but then remembered the way he'd tied her wrists together and shoved her into a closet. She hoped his leg fell off.

Derrick rubbed his head against hers, relishing in the soft buzz of electricity that had returned. Kristin's face was bruised, but she'd never looked more beautiful. His lips found hers as warm and wanting as ever, and they breathed each other in again, feeling their destiny in each other's arms.

Chapter 16

"Ssh!" Tate whispered.

"What? She's not here yet," a woman's voice rang across the room.

"Ssh!" he said again, with more vehemence. The guest, a tall blonde woman, was about to bicker with him when his eyes glowed a golden hue and she shut her mouth, more intrigued than scared. Tate's ears perked up. He'd heard Derrick and Kristin approaching before they'd even gotten to their driveway. This panther stuff was awesome.

Kristin and Derrick walked into the room.

"Surprise!" Everyone yelled.

They looked around, stunned. Pink baby decorations lined the walls. Kristin's parents stood next to Derrick's, beaming at them. "It was all their idea," her parents said, pointing at Derrick's.

"No, no, you had a say in it, too," Derrick's parents said.

A giant cake, shaped like a pink panther, sat on a table top surrounded by white and pink balloons.

"How did you guys know?" Kristin asked, glaring at Derrick. "I told you not to tell!"

"He didn't say a thing," her mother said. "I promise. I keep telling you—we're psychic. When are you gonna start believing us?"

Kristin and Derek laughed. Kristin raised an eyebrow. Maybe there was something to all those psychic seminars her parents had gone to after all. If her parents and Derrick's could be friends again, maybe anything was possible.

Coach walked up just then and shoved a box at Derrick. "I had it framed, in case it turned out to be a boy."

Kristin cleared her throat and glared at him. "Or a girl. Girls can like sports too, I guess," Coach said, his cheeks going red.

Derrick opened the box and found the front headline from the sports section: DERRICK WELLBORN SETS NEW RECORD FOR RUSHING YARDS IN SUPERBOWL VICTORY. In smaller letters, just under it: With Assist from Tate Edwards.

He beamed. "Thanks Coach."

"Hey Derrick," Tate said, running up to him. He was running so much faster these days. This whole shifter thing was crazy. Not that he would have changed a thing, especially since Derrick's parents had saved his life by turning him into one.

"So like, I can still have sex right?" he whispered. "I mean, nothing weird's gonna, you know, happen?"

Derrick laughed. "Go for it."

Tate smiled and ran to find the blonde with the intriguing smile.

"So, I guess we need to pick a name now, huh?" Kristin asked, patting her stomach. Derrick watched her hand roll over the soft flesh jutting from her belly, and wondered if anyone would notice if they disappeared for 20 minutes or so.

"Of course they would," Kristin said.

"Would what?"

"Notice if we disappeared."

"How did..." Derrick stared at her.

"What?" she asked.

"How did you know what I was thinking?"

Kristin frowned. "You whispered it to me. Didn't you?" Derrick shook his head. "Quick," she told him. "Think something else."

He looked at Kristin's breasts, even more pronounced now than they normally were, and this was just her first month. He wondered how big they might be by the ninth month.

"Oh! You better not just want me for my body," she squealed. He stared at her, wide eyed.

"Don't tell me you're psychic now," he said.

She grinned. "Maybe it's just a pregnancy thing."

Maybe I'd like to take you in the back right now and...

Kristin blushed as Derrick finished his thought. Wrapping his hand in hers, they snuck away from their party. Kristin decided he was right, no one would miss them if they were only gone 20 minutes.

THE END

FULL MOON LOVER

STORY DESCRIPTION

Mary is a young, single, attractive woman living in Baltimore.

Which should mean she is active in the city's dating scene. And, she probably would be if it weren’t for that one little issue of... social anxiety.

Besides, there’s really no one she’s even remotely interested in. Well, there is the steaming hot guy with severe bed head and horribly mismatched socks who doesn’t drink coffee but frequents the coffee shop to get the old Polish barista to comb his hair and help him match his clothes.

Mary figures that even if she weren't painfully shy, she still wouldn't have much of a chance with him, though, since half the woman in the city drool over him. She's seen how women in the coffee shop behave when he's around.

One night, fate delivers "Mr. Hottie" right to Mary’s door, only he’s not exactly what she expected; he is, in fact, much more. So, so very much more!

This time, Mary is not about to let her painful shyness stop her from having the adventure of a lifetime as the two set out together to save the city from a monster running beneath the full moon.

CHAPTER 1

The first thing she noticed about him, besides his devilishly handsome features and ripped physique, were his socks. They didn’t match, not in the slightest way. It wasn’t just a matter of mixing a blue sock with a black sock. No. One was a brownish plaid while the other was white. So, safe to say, he was in the realm of what the hell is wrong with him?

OK. She could move beyond that, but then there was the issue of his hair. It was a bed head to the nth degree. It looked like he had maybe used his hand to comb it two days ago, but had since slept multiple times and driven in a convertible.

But there were many parts of him that made him easy on the eyes. Well, his eyes for instance. She had never seen any like them before. They were the kind of eyes you would see in a perfume ad or a pretentious music video. You know the ones she’s thinking about: the world behind the model is gray and slightly discolored, while the eyes are an unnatural shade of blue.  Alien even. Electrically vibrating.

It was hard not to be entranced by his eyes, which was probably why he always wore shades— Perhaps he was aware of his power. She had only seen him with them off once, and that one time was enough for them to be burned into her brain. She wasn’t the only one to see them that night when the shades fell off. All the girls in the cafe turned and watched him like a robot in sync, or a field of muskrats entranced by a mystical shift in the cosmos.

Of course it wasn’t just his eyes, though. She had a mega crush on him before that. His cheekbones and jawline were enough to make even Clint Eastwood jealous. He was a perfectly sexy Polish boy in Baltimore, Maryland. Her mother would be so proud if she managed to take him home. But of course, she wouldn’t get with him simply because of her mother. No, he was a catch, and she wanted to catch him with all her might.

All that was in her way was her social anxiety and fear of rejection. If she could just get over those two things, she would be in the clear…

But his hair and the way he dressed! Was he a fourteen-year-old boy caught in a thirty-year-old body? Could he not see himself in the mirror?

There was a woman who worked at the cafe
that seemed to take care of him. Every night the old barista saw him and waved him to the back. With a hairy mole on her chin, and the kind of slouch and shuffle that only accompanies an eighty-year-old woman, she managed to make him look… presentable. Hollywood handsome, even.

One night Mary peeped into the back as the old woman mothered him. With goggles for glasses, she peered at him at him closely as she delicately combed his hair, shaved his face, and even changed his bowtie. Yes, even his bowties sometimes didn’t match. He took out four from his pocket for her to choose from, and moaned, “Oh please just choose for me. I can’t bother to worry about this at the moment. There’s just so much nonsense going on that I have to deal with tonight.” She chuckled a guttural old woman laugh, shuffled close to him and untied his horrendous abomination, moving like an arthritic turtle.

To the old woman’s credit, he always came out looking damn good, albeit still a little out of place (but for that there probably wasn’t a cure). There was something else about him that pampering couldn’t fix. Besides the mismatched socks (which the old lady never bothered to fix), the alien eyes, and the chiseled facial features, there was something else, and Mary was never able to put a finger on it. It wasn’t for lack of trying— she often thought about it. More than she would ever admit to even herself.

Don’t tell anyone, but the one or two times she had seen him with his sunglasses off, she actually thought about trailing him.

Openly.

It was the oddest thing and she knew it, but she just wanted to follow him to wherever he went. She didn’t need to speak with him, she just felt an unnatural desire to be close to him. Now if he proposed his undying love for her and asked her to marry him would she say yes? Well yeah, but that was it.

That wasn’t so weird, was it?

Then, she saw his socks and thought of something better to do with her time.

Oh, but his body. He did have a hell of nice body. One night when it was cold— frigidly so— upper teens without wind-chill factored in— he came in wearing nothing but flip flops, slacks, and a tight white t-shirt and shouted for the little old lady. Most nights he just looked like a bum, but on this particular night he looked like a deranged bum— granted a very hot deranged bum with a rock hard, chiseled body that turned every woman’s head— but a deranged bum nonetheless.

“Aniela! Aniela! Quick! I’m in a hurry!” Aniela was Polish for angel.

“Pracuję, głupek! Bądź cierpliwy!” I’m working, stupid boy. Be patient.

Mary’s mother was Polish. She grew up speaking it in the house.

“Aniela!” he huffed and puffed. “This is important!”

“Znaleźć inną staruszkę do hepl ciebie.” Find another old woman to help you then.

“Jesteś jedyną kobietą dla mnie.” You are the only woman for me.

“Idiota, jestem 83 lat.” Idiot, I am 83 years old.

He shot his hand in the air as if she spoke nonsense.

She finished making a customer a teapot of Earl Grey tea, and waved him to the back when she was ready. He quickly beat her there and sat down in his chair and waited for her to shuffle over.

Mary remembered thinking, whatever you do, grandma, leave that chest the way it is. He’s fine. He won’t get pneumonia, I promise.

But Aniela didn’t leave it alone. In fact, it was the first thing she changed. She shuffled farther into the back and came back with a green knit sweater (one apparently she had knit herself) and pulled it over his head. It seemed she knew this night would come— him completely ill prepared for the weather and the social reactions and constructs of the world in which he lived when dealing with such pesky nuisances as… cold temperatures.

Mary tried to ask her once about him, but she responded, “On jest po prostu jakiś głupi chłopak wiem.” He is just some stupid boy I know.

She tried to let him go.  But a part of her just couldn’t.  He was just too… weird.

But something happened on a cold January night that changed things.

CHAPTER 2

Saturday night. Yes, it was three weeks after Christmas, and yes she still had her tree up. But who cared? She’s a grownup. She could live her life the way she wanted.

Well maybe watching Love Actually for the tenth time after Christmas was a bit much, but it wasn’t like she was addicted to the movie or anything. She just couldn’t afford Netflix or cable, and it just so happened to be one of the only movies she had that didn’t skip. She had the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice, but… that scene had started skipping long ago. And really, if she couldn’t watch Colin Firth get wet head to toe what was the point?

She walked to the kitchen to get some more cereal and heard the footsteps of the neighbor above her walking up the wooden fire escape. She had blinds pulled, and her lights weren’t on, but she still felt it best to hide against the wall until she heard him walking into his apartment.

When she heard him rummaging around in his apartment, she pulled the blinds a little out just to be sure he wouldn’t be able to see her.

You see, the door to the outside in her kitchen was the door to the fire escape, and this door had a little sliver of a window above it that she couldn’t cover with anything besides paper bags—  and had somehow still fought the urge to do so (but it seemed like a better and better idea every day). Mary factored that if he got on his belly and lowered his head past the landing, he might be able to see her. Maybe not her body, but at least the top of her head, and maybe some of her boobs if she were naked— which she sometimes was.

She looked out once more double checking that absolutely no one would see her go to her fridge.

Wait a minute, she paused and thought. Is my fire escape really made out of wood?

She looked out the window to double check.

Son of a bitch, it is. How does that make sense?

Bowl full of gluten free cereal, she snuck back into her room where, thankfully, the only window in the room looked straight out into faded red bricks.

She got underneath her covers and watched Colin Firth frantically look for the windblown pages of his draft in the pond.

She giggled. She loved this scene. Both he and his future wife finishing each other’s sentences even though they spoke different languages. It melted her heart every time. Like every movie she watched incessantly, it was a happy sad ordeal.

A knock on her back door. The one with the window she wanted to cover up.

She put her spoon down and paused the movie.

No one had ever knocked on that door before. Ever.

The one or two friends she had that maybe came over every six months always buzzed and came up the normal way.

Plus, she didn’t even like to use that door. The railings on the fire escape sucked. They moved with the slightest bump, and shook and vibrated when a person simply used the stairs.

Knock knock knock.

She hit play on the DVD and decided that she would ignore it. If she knew whoever it was, well…  then he or she had her number. If he or she didn’t know her, then Mary had no interest in whatever he or she had to tell her.

But the knocking got louder. So loud that whoever was knocking was practically banging on her door with fists.

She really wished she had a weapon. But where do you get a weapon when you don’t have a car? Target doesn’t sell anything. Neither does Panera. Aneila’s Cafe? She probably had two or three somethings for herself, and would probably actually sell one of them to her if—

Knock knock knock.

She thought about calling 911, but knew that when they asked her what the problem was, she’d have to tell them the truth (she was weird that way), and the truth was that her only problem was that someone was knocking at her door.  Not exactly a capital offense.  She put on a sweater and threw on some jeans over her pajama bottoms. In a pullout drawer in the kitchen were some steak knives she never used, but for some reason had ten of.  She slipped one out and looked out the window perpendicular to her back door.  A drunk, disheveled man with dark hair was banging his head against her back door.

He seemed to sense her looking at him, and quickly turned around and saw her.

“Can I come in?” he asked, ashen faced.

“No!” she yelled.  “Go away! Go home!”

“Please! I need to come in. I need help!”

“Call the police,” she said. “Stop bothering me!”

She closed the blinds and stepped around the corner, hoping he would disappear. Her apartment was only a block away from a popular bar. These kinds of things happened once in a while.

Knock knock knock.  The banging resumed.

She didn’t know what to do besides threaten him.

She pulled back her blinds again and shouted, “If you come here, I’ll stab you! I have a steak knife!”

She winced at herself and went back into hiding. Why did she tell him she had a steak knife? What difference did it make that it was a steak knife in her hand? She could have just told him she had a knife. Why did she feel an overbearing need to be honest and forthright with—

“PLEASE! May I come in?” he moaned. “I really don’t feel well.”

She decided to call the police.

It only rang once before it was answered.

She told the woman on the other end her problem, and was told to not, under any circumstances, let him in. That she should not talk to him any further, and if he asked her any more questions, questions revolving around getting to know her and whatnot, to just ignore him and not say anything. Ignore everything he did, essentially.

OK.  Easy thing to do.  When were they coming over?

“We’re very busy right now.  Just make sure you don’t say he can come in. Do not, under any circumstances, say he can come in.”

Well no-duh. Why would she do that?

“We’ll get there as soon as we can. You’re on the list. Goodbye.”

She went back to her room and tried to resume Love Actually, but the pounding became incessant.

Then he started screaming.

“LET ME IN! PLEASE, MAY I COME IN?”

Did he think she was his ex-girlfriend or something?

There would be no concentrating.

She turned off her TV and listened, making sure he wasn’t trying to force his way in.

Was someone after him?

She went back to her window. Again he felt her looking at him and turned around.

“May I come in?” he asked. He was simply pitiful

May shook her head no. “Are you OK? Are you sick? Why can’t you go back from wherever you came?”

He sniffed the air. “Because you’re the only one I can find. Please may I come in?”

“What am I the only one of?” she asked. She felt she was egging on further crazy, but it felt nice to be special.

“You’re an oh,” he said, his head against her back door. “Positive or negative. I can’t remember. I just know you smell right, and you’re the one I need.”

Wait, was he talking about her—

“Sorry,” another man called up walking up the fire escape. She stood up on her tippy toes to see who he was.

It was that man! The man the old barista fawned over!

“Sorry, he got away from us. Come along, Jordan. We have what you need in the car. Sorry again,” he said waving at Mary through her window.

Mary tried to hide and wave back at the same time.

Hot damn his chest was chiseled.

He led Jordan down the stairs, and asked, “Isn’t this where Scott lives? He hasn’t let us into his place yet. We need to make sure we do that soon.”

Jordan grunted, “Why are we leaving, Dorek? I need her.”

“No, no,” Dorek said. “We’re getting you to the car. Hurry up now.”

Dorek, huh? Polish for gift from god. Hell yeah he was.

Well, now she at least knew his name. It was a lot to go through, but at least she had it.

Did he recognize her?

Standing behind a window in a dark room? No, idiot, go back to your movie.

CHAPTER 3

Mary went to Aniela’s the next evening hoping to see him. She held no vain hope that he would strike up a conversation with her and talk to her about his drunken friend Jordan.

Old Aniela was manning the cash register while her younger employees zipped to and fro making everyone’s beverages.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Mary asked, handing Aniela a five for her coffee.

“Przepraszam? What did you say?”

“Your chłopak,” Mary said.  “Your boyfriend. The young guy who comes in here.”

Aniela laughed.  “I don’t know,” she said in broken English. “I see him maybe. Maybe not. He just stupid boy.”

“He’s very handsome,” Mary said.

“Handsome? You see him? When he come?”

“Yes, and you make him better. More… przystojny, more handsome.”

“No, no, no. You can do better than him. Want kids? He no father.” Aniela then opened the cash register to get change.

“What do you mean? He wouldn’t be a good father?” Mary asked.

“No, how do you… onniemożemiećdzieci.”

Mary didn’t know what she meant, she said it too fast, and while Aniela was counting out her change she dropped several coins that scattered.

“Shull kref polara!” Aniela cursed. Dog’s blood!

She was too old to bend over and pick everything up.

Aniela looked at her employees, but they were hurrying to catch up on back orders. Mary looked behind her and there was a line to the door.

“Did you want me to help?” Mary asked.  “It’s no problem.”

“Na zdrowie.  Bless you.  Please.”

Mary smiled and walked around the counter. As she was picking up the change, she noticed a picture by the cash register. It was of a younger Aniela with a group of people— taken fifteen or twenty years ago— they looked like they had just come from a polka dance.

Mary couldn’t help but look. Aniela looked good! Old age must not have struck until recently.

The man she was with was good looking, too. Her husband? She had her head resting on his shoulder.

But beside this man…

“Is this Dorek?” she turned around and asked Aniela.

“Nie, ojciec.” No, that’s his father.

Mary nodded. The likeness between the two of them was uncanny.

She felt a need to hand Aniela the change before she walked around the counter where, once back, Aniela handed it right back.

She got her drink and hovered around for a few minutes hoping to see Dorek, but he didn’t come.

“Dobranoc!” she shouted to Aniela while leaving.

“Good night!” Aniela shouted back.

Mary walked outside. It was a clear, cold night and the full moon was already a quarter of the way up the sky. A good thing. The city hadn’t replaced the bulbs in the street lamps on her street that a bunch of thugs had systematically destroyed a month ago. Several people complained (she even read about it in the newspaper) but a lot of people compensated for it by turning on their front porch lights— but an equal amount didn’t, and pockets of darkness usually loomed on her way home. With the moon, though, all was well. It lit her path back home like an old friend.

CHAPTER 4

“No!  No!  Ahhh, goddd!  Help! Someone please help!”

Furniture fell over, several large thumps and then a final—

“Ahhhhhhhhh!”

Mary held a steak knife in one hand, and a cell phone in the other.

“911. What is the emergency?”

Mary whispered. “I think someone has just been killed in the apartment above me.”

“Do not check.  Are you safe?”

“I’m not sure. I think so.”

“OK, stay where you are and do not leave your apartment. We’re dispatching someone right now. Is this Mary Schmidt at 1408 Hanover Avenue?”

“Yes,” Mary said.

“Someone’s enroute.”

Mary hid in the darkness, and listened to the noises above her. Someone was still walking around, but it sounded like an animal now. Soft clicks of nails on hardwood back and forth.  Pacing.

Had Scott just been killed?

Why would anyone kill him?

Growling? Muttering? Deep, incessant ramblings like a satanic ritual.

Scott seemed like a nice guy, even though instinct had spawned her to hide every time he went up the fire escape. The only bad thing about him she could recall was that he listened to jazz a little too loud on occasion, and on warm evenings he’d grill steak just outside his door and invite her up for some. He gave her the willies, and she hated whenever he did. Part of her knew he was just trying to be nice, but all the same… Maybe it was a good thing he was dead… She wouldn’t have to awkwardly come up with reasons why she couldn’t hang out with him anymore.

Jesus, Mary! What a horrible thought! He was a nice guy!

He never had company, though. Who would kill him?

She gripped her steak knife and waited for the police.

A flashlight shined through her window that was perpendicular to her back door, and then someone knocked on her door.

She went to it, steak knife in hand.

It was Dorek again! Wearing sunglasses with horrible hair. He apparently hadn’t been to see Aniela tonight.

“Mary Schmidt?” he said through the glass looking at a notepad in his hand.

Mary straightened her hair away from her face and stood up as tall as she could muster. “Are you with the police? You don’t look like a police officer,” she said trying to be safe and seductive at the same time. “Do you have a badge I can see?” She crossed her arms over her chest. Damn she wanted to jump him.

“I’m special division,” Dorek said. “Have you heard anything else up there?”

“Movement. Animal noises. Whoever, whatever was up there that hurt Scott is still there.”

“So you think there were two people?” Dorek asked. “Are you sure?”

“Why would Scott scream like that if he was alone? It was definitely him, and it sounded like he was fighting someone… before he screamed that one final time.”

Dorek’s eyes narrowed and he took off his sunglasses.  Steel blue eyes.  Entrancing.  “We’ll see. Listen, there’s a lot of stuff going on in the city right now. I don’t have backup, but I’m 90% sure Scott is OK. Do you mind coming out and coming up with me? I might need your help.”

“You want me to protect you?” she asked, blushing.

“Well no, not protect me,” he said. “Just be with me. Help me identify him. I’ve never met him before.”

“OK,” Mary said.

She felt so… happily complacent.

She walked to the door and let herself out. It was cold, and she only had a flimsy cotton shirt with no bra. Breasts jiggling and swaying as she walked—  her perky, large nipples easily seen in the cold night air.

Dorek’s eyes widened.

He stammered and said, “Do you want to go get a jacket or something?”

“Do you think I should get a jacket?” she said, smiling at him, oblivious to the effect she was having on him.

“Yes, at least a sweater or something,” he said. “You’ll get sick walking around here like that.”

“OK,” she said, and walked back inside like a well behaved drone.

She took her shirt off in her cold, poorly heated room and exposed her large, full breasts to the frigid air. She grabbed two sweaters she hoped he would like. One a khaki button up with a large collar, but the chest was open and would show a lot of cleavage. The second a tight, red v-neck. It, too, would show off her breasts well.

She walked to him smiling, chest still completely naked, and he shrieked, “Get back inside!”

Confused, she asked, “But which one do you like?”

He closed his eyes and pointed, “The red one, the red one!”

She slipped it on and stuck her chest out.  “Better?” she asked. Her nipples were still hard and she noticed Dorek couldn’t take his eyes off of them.

“Yes, you look very good,” he said emphatically. “So very… are you ready to head up?”

She nodded and smiled. She noticed he had his hand on the front of his trousers. Was he hiding a hard-on? Didn’t he know he didn’t have to do that for her? Ever?

What was coming over her?

Who cares! He’s here, and I’m going to capitalize on that.

“After you,” he said and got out of her way.

Mary smiled. Glad she was wearing her yoga pants and showing off her large bum. She stuck her ass out and wiggled it to and fro as she went up the stairs. She could feel his eyes on her. Oh yes, she could feel them burning into her. To her left was a window reflecting the night. She looked in it to see if he was checking her out.

He wasn’t there!

She turned back to see where he had gone and saw that he was right behind her, eyes locked on her bubble butt.

He scratched his head and looked away.

“Just a little farther, ma’am,” he said, pretending he was studying something on the far horizon.

She smiled to herself. Keep on looking, handsome, she thought.

She made it to the top, inwardly proud of herself for conquering her fear of the fire escape. But it really wasn’t that big of a deal. She’d do anything for him.

For whatever reason he wasn’t right behind her when she got to the top. She peeped over the railing and saw that he was repositioning himself in his pants.

Ooh, he did have a hard-on? He didn’t have to hide it from her!

And ooh was it big! She could see the bulge of it going straight up his belly and pushing his belt out.

Eight, maybe 10 inches. Hell, maybe even twelve.

If she pulled his pants out a little, she’d be able to see the tip of it easily. It was right there.

She licked her lips excitedly and went to do it.

He turned away from her and knocked on the door.

“Scott! Are you there? Scott?” he banged on the back door. His arms chiseled and long.

“Do you have a girlfriend or a wife?” Mary asked.

“Um no.  Hey Mary, I need you to do something really quick…” he turned and smiled at her.

“What is it? No, it doesn’t matter. I’ll do it.”

“Do my socks match?” he asked and pulled up his trousers.

“Huh?” she looked down at his feet. “No, not in the slightest. Why would a pink and brown sock match?” she looked at him like he was crazy and noticed his sunglasses were back on.

A fog lifted in her brain.

CHAPTER 5

She put her arms around herself and shivered. What the hell was she doing out here wearing nothing but flimsy yoga pants and a sweater with no bra or coat? She looked like a complete slut with her nipples sticking out like they were. She tried to hide them, but it was difficult. Her girls were big and she was shivering.

She jumped up and down and tried and warm up. Fuck it was cold!

Dorek resumed pounding on the door and shouting for Scott to come and let them in.

Mary peeped in the window trying vainly to warm her arms up with her hands as she did.

“What is that?” she asked and pointed.

“What is what?” Dorek said and walked to her.

She pointed again. “Something weird is lying on the floor over there.  Do you see it?”

Dorek pointed his flashlight in.

“Fuck!” he yelled. “It’s a…”

“A what?”

“Nothing. Go wait over there by the stairs.”

She did.

He pulled out a walkie-talkie from his belt.  “Dispatch? I have a possible 140 here— requesting a 129 for a possible 133.”

It took her brain a moment, but he wasn’t fooling her. She watched CSI. That translated to possible murder, need backup for a potential dangerous person in the area.

“Negative. We’re strained right now.  Restrain the situation and make sure no else gets harmed until sunlight.”

He unclicked his walkie and said under his breath, “I hate full moons.”

“What does a full moon have to—”

Satanic, demonic mutterings rumbled behind the door. Deep and gruff. Scratchy. Menacing. Whoever was speaking was doing so unintelligibly. The words sounded like an ancient, beastial form of Latin.

They both just looked at each other. “What is that?” Mary whispered.

“Something that’s not good,” Dorek said. “The first and third nights of a full moon are always the worst.”

“What’s going on?” Mary asked.

The door started shaking in its frame. The beast on the other side was pulling and pushing on the doorknob, rattling the entire outside wall.

“Go back down to your apartment,” Dorek said. “GO!”

“YORT MA GATANG! RA RA YOTAV!”

Someone started slamming into the door.

“Where’s your gun?” Mary asked, getting out of the way.

“I’m not that kind of—”

A dark, hairy mass shot through the door and into Dorek, toppling him over the fire escape into the darkness below.

“Dorek!” Mary screamed.

Abandoning her fears of the wobbly handrail, she ran down the three flights of stairs.

Dorek was somehow OK, clutching onto a dark hairy beast as it swung its body back and forth trying to free itself of him.

It was tall. Grotesquely hairy. Teeth as long her fingers. Sharp and pointy. It reached behind its back and grabbed Dorek by the shirt, tried to snap at him, and then hurled him into an abandoned car.

Glass exploded, and Dorek collapsed to the ground, unconscious as a rag doll.

The creature gave one look at Mary and roared.

Mary shut her eyes and whispered the prayer of communion.

With all my heart I long for Thee,

Most firmly I believe in Thee,

Most truthfully I hope in Thee...

She opened her eyes and the creature was gone.  She looked behind her down the dark alley and up above at the full moon. The beast was nowhere.

Maybe Catholicism got a few things right now and then.

She ran to Dorek and was surprised to find him breathing. His precious sunglasses shattered on the ground in a thousand pieces; a stream of blood flowed from his temple.

He moaned and stirred.

She stroked his messy hair and asked, “Are you OK?”

He winced as she straightened up. “Where did Scott go?”

“Dorek, Scott is dead. Remember?”

He opened his eyes and looked at her. Beautiful blue eyes. “No Mary, that monster was Scott. Scott’s OK, but everyone around him is now in danger.”

She smiled down at him and said, “What a silly thing to say, but you’re so pretty. Can I draw you?”

“Christ,” he moaned. “Do you see my sunglasses anywhere?”

She pointed and said, “Right here. Do you want me to pick up the pieces for you? It might be easier just to buy new ones, unless these had significant emotional value to you, which I get, but sometimes it’s best just to—”

“It’s OK,” Dorek said and smiled. “Can you look at my socks?” He pulled up on his pants.  “Do they match?”

“No,” Mary said and smiled at him. “We’ve already established this. Up there, remember?” she said pointing. “Or did the fall ruin your memory?”

“Crap. Right, that only works once a night. Do you have a pair of sunglasses I can borrow?” Mary shook her head. “OK, well, forget about it. Any idea where he went?” Dorek said and stood up.

Mary stood up with him.

“Well, I didn’t hear him run past me, so I assume he went the other way out of this alley,” she said and pointed to the quiet street.

“Excellent sleuthing. If this was a man, you’d be right. But these creatures have the ability to jump really high. He might be on the rooftops.”

“That creature was a werewolf?”

Dorek winced in pain and said, “Maybe,” slowly. “How would that make you feel if he is?”

“Meh,” Mary said and shrugged her shoulders. “Do you want to go somewhere and make out?”

“Mary, that was a monster you just saw. A real monster. That doesn’t have an effect on you?”

Mary shook her head no. “How tall are you?” she asked.

“Mary, Mary, Mary, do you understand why I’m having such an effect on you? It’s my eyes. They’re literally mesmerizing. They’re not just pretty. They’re literally mesmerizing you. You’re hypnotized just looking at them.”

“Huh,” Mary said and moved closer to him, pretending to look in his eyes but really just trying to push her breasts into him. She wanted to see him get hard again. “So about that making out offer?” She pushed her breasts together and gave him a good eyeful of cleavage.

“Stop, stop, stop—” Dorek said and covered his eyes. “We have a situation here. Will you go into your room for me and wait for me to come back?’

“No, silly,” Mary said. “We stick together.” She wrapped her arms around him and said, “Don’t leave me. Like ever, OK? I can make you happy in so many ways. Just give me a chance. I’ll let you do anything you want to me.”

She ran her hands down his ripped stomach and found his cock. It was hard.

“If you want me to, I can help you right here and now,” she concluded.

“No, no, stop it, please. Yes, you’ve realized you, too, have an effect on me, but that doesn’t stop the fact that we, I mean I, have a job to do right now. Now protocol states that if you won’t go back into your apartment, then you have to come with me so I can protect you— if I’ve entranced you and am unable to untrance you, that is.”

“I thought we already decided this,” Mary said placing her hand back on his cock. “We go together,” she said, and thought about breaking into GREASE to emphasize her point.

“He will be looking for high ground,” Dorek said, ignoring her. “That’s what they always do when they get out— look for high ground. He is going to try to summon a mate. Do you know what the highest place nearby is?”

“Probably the observatory,” Mary said. “Just opened up. I’ve been wanting to go, but didn’t want to go by myself. Oh, are we going?” she asked, excitedly.

“If you don’t mind riding on a Harley,” Dorek said. “The cold doesn’t bother me. But will you be okay if I give you my coat?”

She smiled warmly at him and nodded.

He handed her his coat. She put it on and flipped the collar up, breathing in his scent.

“Thank you,” she said. “I will cherish this always.”

“I’m not GIVING it to you!” Dorek said. “I’ve had that coat for like… well, never you mind how long. But I’ve had that coat for a really long time.”

“You must really care for me to give it to me,” she said, cooing at him.

Dorek shook his head and led her to his Harley-Davidson parked in front of the apartment building. He straddled the bike and said, “Come on. Get behind me.”

“OK!” Mary said, and snuggled up behind him. She encircled her arms around him and put her head on his back.

“So this is what heaven is like,” she said.

“Where is this place?” Dorek asked as he sped down to the light.

“Near the university,” Mary said. “If you take Spring River, veer left onto Quarter Street before Spring becomes Loft Street.”

“OK, I know where you’re talking about.  About ten minutes away?”

Mary nodded and squeezed herself into him.

She began to slide her hands down to his penis to see if he was still hard.

Hmf! He wasn’t. She started rubbing him to get him big again. His cock immediately began to grow and slide up the side of his right leg.

He was a beast.

“Mary,” Dorek said. “You’re a very attractive girl, but I don’t know if now is the right time for that. We’re chasing down a violent werewolf.”

“It’s OK, I’ll tell you where to turn,” Mary said. “Just keep driving. You can do that, can’t you?”

“Seriously, stop it.” Dorek removed her hand from his growing cock and placed it on his stomach. She ran her fingers lightly up and down feeling him up.

The gray, drab winter streets turned softer and greener the farther away they drove from Mary’s apartment. She hated where she lived, but couldn’t afford anywhere else.

They turned right onto Monument Avenue and the smell of ancient, tall conifers hit their noses.  The concrete became cobblestones, announcing to their butts and spines that rich people lived nearby.

Dorek sped down the street and got on Spring River Road and headed towards the university.

“So,” Mary said, feeling him up, “You’re not human, are you?”

Dorek was silent, but Mary didn’t backtrack.

“No, I’m not. I was for thirty-three years, though. What gave me away?”

“Your reflection,” Mary said, nuzzling against him further. “Or lack of one. I checked to see if you were looking at my butt. The window reflecting me said you weren’t, or that you weren’t even there. But then I saw you. Staring all googly eyed at me. So you like my butt? You do, don’t you. It’s really okay.”

“Yes,” Dorek flatly stated. “You have a nice butt.”

“Good,” Mary said and ran her hands up to his developed chest. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Confirming he liked her butt was more important than hearing him say he was a vampire.

“Now what was wrong with your friend the other night?” she asked.

“Oh,” Dorek said and laughed. “Jordan? He’s my partner. He worked too long without eating. He smelled you nearby.”

“And did he need to be invited to be let in?”

“Yeah, that part of the legend is true,” Dorek said. “You see, he needed you because as vampires we can only drink from people that have the same blood type as us. If we drink from a person of a different blood type, we get sick. Plus, if we don’t drink for a little while, our brains start acting funny and we get a little crazy. We work together, Jordan and I, I mean, because we’re of the same blood type. Just something weird the police department thought would be a good idea— there aren’t gangs of vampires walking around united simply because they have the same blood type.”

“So we have the same blood type?” Mary asked excitedly. “You and I?”

“Yep.”

“Since when are vampires also police officers?”

“Apparently for a long time,” Dorek said. “Long, long before my day. We’re the reason there’s so much order. And believe it or not, it would be a lot worse if we weren’t around. Vampires, werewolves, that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Werewolves are only bad two nights a month. We vampires, well, we’re like children. Keep us well fed and give us something to do and we don’t cause any trouble. Other creatures… let’s just say there are a lot that aren’t so easy to tame.”

“I thought it was weird my upstairs neighbor Scott only had a dog a few nights a month.”

“Most werewolves lock themselves up before they turn,” Dorek said. “We never have to worry about them. They’re law abiding citizens. I wonder why he didn’t this time…”

“So he’s trying to get lucky right now?” Mary asked, sliding her hand back down to his cock. He just smelled and felt too good to not push the envelope as far as she could.

He let her hand stay on his member.

“Um, well,” Dorek stammered.

Ha! I’m having an effect on him! That’s right. Let me feel your cock.

“That’s really all werewolves want to do,” Dorek continued, voice slightly out of breath. “They don’t really go after raw meat. Really the only thing they care about is having sex with another werewolf. But if they do happen to find another, that’s a different story.”

“So what was that in Scott’s apartment? It looked like a body part.”

“It was. But I’m thinking it was an animal’s— say a skinned cow or pig.”

Mary slapped her hand to her forehead. “Oh, shit-duh!” she exhaled. “He grills all the time and is a butcher!” She felt like an idiot, but then remembered Dorek was driving with a hard-on and all was well again.

“There’s still the question as to why he didn’t restrain himself, though,” Dorek said. “I looked at his file the other night. He’s been a registered werewolf for a few years now, and he’s gone through a lot of full moons. The question is why is this the one time he didn’t take any precautions?”

“How do you know Aniela?” Mary asked, changing the subject.

“We were childhood friends,” he said.

“So she knows about you?”

“Of course. I couldn’t keep something like that away from her.”

“Were you ever together?” Mary asked. “Married?”

“No, I’ve always acted like we were. It’s a lifetime joke at this point. No, she was married, and had lots of kids. He died, though, and now her kids are all grown up. They don’t visit her as much as they should. It’s a shame. She’s just as cool as she ever was.”

“She makes you look good,” Mary said, warming her hands under his shirt. The wind was getting to be too much.

“She has a good eye for that kind of stuff. Always has. Are we almost there?”

“Yep, your turn is coming up in just a few blocks.”

They hadn’t seen any sign of Scott on the way, and Mary, though extremely content to be behind Dorek (a nice, tall Polish boy? What wasn’t to like?), was beginning to wonder if they were on a wild goose chase. But then they saw an Uber van smashed in the front, and heard the driver say while talking on his phone that he just hit a very large wolf. “Yes! That’s what I’m saying. I hit a wolf!”

“What are going to do if we find him?” Mary asked, not afraid, just mildly interested.

“Well, you’re going to have to hide somewhere, while I try to restrain him.”

“Oh…,” Mary said. She didn’t want to be bereft of him. Plus, it didn’t bode well for her knight in shining armor. He just got thrown from a three story building…

They turned onto Quarter Street and began going up the steep, tree lined road.

A white SUV with a shattered windshield roared past them and shrieked to a stop. An old man leaned out his window.  “Turn around!  There’s some kind of beast up there!” He didn’t wait to clarify or reiterate before speeding away.

“Well, I think we’re getting close,” Dorek said.

At the top of the hill overlooking the city, the observatory parking lot was completely empty. The white dome housing the telescope shined in the moonlight like a moon itself.

Mary shivered. It was much colder up at the top!

“Ow owww owwwwwwwooooooooooooooooo!” Scott howled at the moon. Dorek pointed to where he was. He was sitting up in a scraggly oak tree, all the way at the top. Naked save a thick matte of fur. She couldn’t help but notice his wobbly dog junk and wonder what it would be like if it was hard.

“He’s calling for a mate,” Dorek said.

“What are we going to do?”

“Agent 246 do you copy?” Dorek’s walkie said.

Dorek pulled out his walkie.  “Agent 246 here.”

“Agent 135 here. I’m tracking a Debbie Wise here. She, for whatever reason, didn’t put her restraints on tonight. She’s heading south at the moment. Are you with that Scott fellow?”

“10-4. We’re at the observatory right off of Spring River on Quarter. He’s up a tree doing a mating call right now.”

“Great,” the voice said sarcastically. “Have you dealt with a situation like this before?”

Dorek clicked to answer, but Mary started stroking his hair, and slipped into speaking her mother’s tongue without noticing.  “Masz ładne oczy.”  Your eyes are beautiful.  “Wyjdziesz za mnie?”  Would you marry me? “Jesteś moim powietrzem.” You are my air. “Moje slońce.”  My Sun. “Kochasz mnie?” Do you love me? “Nie bój się kochać.”  Don’t be afraid of my love. “Chciałbym spędzić swoje życie z toba.” I want to spend my lifetime with you.

Dorek stared open mouthed at her. He let go of his walkie. Mary dropped to her knees and was reaching up to him with her mouth against his engorged cock, kissing him through his trousers.

“Agent 246, did you lose your sunglasses?”

“10-4. Yes, I did.”

“Don’t forget how violent males get once they’ve mated. He’ll strike anyone down he views as a threat to his girl, and will bring his mate back a post romp snack. Be careful it’s not whoever’s with you.”

“Haven’t forgotten. I’m trying to formulate a plan now.”

Dorek’s stomach lurched and he bent over in pain.

He needed to eat.

Mary noticed him twitch and said, “What’s wrong, my love?”

“It’s been too long since I’ve eaten. That blow from the fire escape took a lot out of me. Body’s used any extra blood to expedite healing itself.”

“What can I do?” Mary asked. “Can’t you drink from me? You said my blood matched yours.”

“Yes, it does. But you’ll be weakened. Your brain’s not working too well now. It will be even worse after I drink from you.”

Scott howled in the trees. He scratched his ear with his back foot and seemed to pant excitedly. Debbie must be close.

“There’s no time,” Dorek said.  “Listen, I have an idea. It’s horrible, and I feel like a schmuck for asking you.”

“No, don’t ever,” Mary cooed and stroked his face.

“Female werewolves are very territorial. When she smells that you’re near her future mate, she’ll want to kill you even though you’re not a werewolf.”

“Oh… oh dear. Why doesn’t the male care about you?” Mary asked.

“All he cares about is ejaculating. And he smells that she’s on the way. To him everything is looking good.”

“So what do we do?”

“We need to get you inside the observatory, but we have to wait until we’re sure she’s noticed you and is coming for the kill.”

“Make love to me first before I die,” Mary said dramatically.

“Stop it, you’re not going to die,” Dorek said. “No one is. I promise you that.” He took her by the hand and said, “Come on, we have to hurry.”

The entrance to the observatory was a large bronze door with planets and stars etched into it. It seemed custom made, and probably cost the city a lot of money. Thousands upon thousands, even.

Dorek looked it up and down and sighed, “Well, it can’t be helped,” and punched a hole through it. He reached in and unlocked it.

Mary’s knees quivered and she moaned out loud. So hot.

“This way,” he said.

The air was cold, not warm like Mary had hoped, and the room was bare.  One massive telescope pointed upwards towards the heavens in the center of the room of an empty, large room, and that was it.  Not exactly the greatest place to lure a werewolf in.

“OK, change of plan,” Dorek said. “We’re not going to be able to do anything fancy. We’re just going to have to run in and run out and pray we can close the door fast enough.”

“You just punched a hole in it,” Mary said. “Totally sexy, by the way, but what good does it do now?”

“I can keep it closed until backup arrives. Jordan is on his way.”

“Are we putting the male in there, too?”

“Yes, we have to lure them both in. I’m thinking that with her right there, the male won’t care if she wants to take you out. He’ll just pin her down and take care of business.”

“How are we going to lure them both in?”

“Well, he’ll be chasing her, and she’ll be chasing us. The girls are naturally faster than the boys, so it’s going to be a test of how fast I can move tonight and yet not lose him.”

Despite being drunk with lust, Mary bit her lip. She was scared.

“Don’t worry. This isn’t my first polka dance,” Dorek said.

“Owwwwwooooooooooooo!” Scott howled.

“She must be almost here. Come on. Get on my back,” Dorek said.

Mary did. She wrapped her hands around his neck and squeezed his torso with her thighs.

He jumped suddenly from the entrance of the observatory to the middle of the parking lot.

A good 70-foot jump.

“Holy shit, Dorek!” Mary exclaimed. “Do it again! Do it again!”

“You’ll have your fill of it in just a moment,” Dorek said. “There she is.”

Flying through the branches like a banshee, the female werewolf stopped in a thin, swaying pine tree. Heavily matted in light, golden brown fur. Ears pointy, breasts perky, she smelled Mary and growled loudly. She readied to pounce from the tree top, wiggling her but and swishing her tail.

“Oh Dorek,” Mary said and buried her eyes in him.

She squeezed him as hard as she could and felt him lurch to the right, jump quickly forward, and then practically fly high up into the air among the treetops before stopping quickly.  The trees rustled again soon afterwards, and Mary heard the female growl only a few feet away as Dorek evaded her grasps and plunged downwards.

He landed lightly.

A quick lurch forward, and Mary heard the stillness of the observatory before she felt her body rushed upwards again.

Hollow metal sounds.  Tap, tap, tap.

Mary braved a glance and saw that they were skipping to a stop at the top of the telescope.

The female quickly came in and sniffed them out. She growled angrily and stuck her butt up in the air again preparing to pounce. Scott the werewolf hurdled in and tackled her to the ground.

“That’s is our cue,” Dorek said. He jumped with such tremendous speed that Mary’s head had trouble processing. One second they were only a few feet away from red eyed beasts, and the next Dorek was zipping around and slamming the bronze door closed.

“Jump off!” he shouted.

Mary did and he leaned against the door with all of his strength.

The door pounded and jerked his body forward, but he kept it closed.

Then screaming… horrific, gut wrenching screaming. Breaking glass, falling pipes. They sounded like they were killing each other.

Mary said as much to Dorek.

“That, my dear Mary, is just what it sounds like when two werewolves fuck,” he said and laughed.

“Oh… well what do we do now?” Mary asked, tracing a finger from the top of his chest to the bottom of his groin. He quickly got large.

“Mary, please, not right now. If this door opens and one of them gets out, people will die. And one of them would probably be you.”

He winced as his stomach turned over and growled. She could hear it. It was really grumbling.

“Do you want to eat now?” she said worried.

The door started pounding rhythmically but not forcefully enough to cause him to lose his footing.

They were fucking right against the door.

“I don’t know how we would manage that,” Dorek said. “This whole game changes once they realize they can both push at the same time.”

“So you’re going to need your strength,” Mary said and raised her sweater up, showing him once again her round, magnificent breasts.

“Oh god, reposition my cock,” Dorek said. “It’s right against the zipper!”

Mary giggled and reached in and moved him to the side. “Here,” she said, raising her breasts to his mouth. “Drink.”

Fangs descended from his mouth. His canines on both the bottom and top of his mouth were much larger and sharper.

He took a deep breath and plunged his fangs into her soft breast, puncturing the skin around her nipple.

It only hurt a little bit at first, but then his tongue started swirling and sucking around her areola. Oh, she could cum just by that alone!

“Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” she exclaimed.

She had never cum just from having her tits sucked on before, but here it came.

The intense tingling at the tip of her nipple pulsed and ached across her entire breast, down through her stomach, and then broke and became a cataclysmic wave through her whole body.

She bucked and spasmed against him as she came. Jolt after jolt shot through her.

After it had passed, she realized she was leaning into him with her back arched, oblivious to the world.

But the orgasm did little to satiate her lust.

She held up her other breast and said, “Now this side, please.”

She was in the middle of cumming a second time when Jordan jumped into view.

“It looks like I got the wrong fucking beat tonight!” he exclaimed. She smiled at him, but returned her lust back to Dorek. One hot vampire was enough for her… for now.

CHAPTER 6

Backup, other than Jordan, finally came four hours before sunrise and secured the two werewolves.

Dorek dropped her off at her apartment and walked her up the fire escape.

She had forgotten to lock her back door, but a quick sweep through showed that no one had gone in. She paused at the end of her quick search and realized Dorek wasn’t behind her.

She went back to the kitchen and found him smiling at her.

“Can’t go inside a private residence unless I’m invited,” he said. “Public I can break into all day, but not private.”

“If only that was true for all police officers,” she said and smiled.

“Funny, har,” he said.

She walked up to the back door. Might as well have some fun with him.

“Is it just like some mental roadblock?” she asked tracing her sensitive, aching nipples, “Or is it full on magic? Is there like a force field or something? Magnetic waves pushing you out and all?”

“Well, kind of a bit of both,” he said. “Are you not going to invite me in? How many times did you cum while I drank from you?”

“I don’t even remember,” she said, shaking her head. And she really didn’t.  Many of those orgasms had been in front of his partner, too, while he drank. She had never been entertainment for someone while cumming, but he had watched her like she was a part of some porno he had rented… and she liked it. She saw the outline of his cock through his pants. He wasn’t nearly as big as Dorek, but he was handsome.

“Please,” Dorek said. “You’ve had me worked up all night.”

She reached out and unzipped him, and his massive cock flopped out like a plank of wood.

She lowered to her knees and took him within her mouth. His cock was past the threshold, but his body was not.

Hm, she could have fun with this.

She pumped him with her hand as her tongue and mouth slithered all around his head and shaft.

He moaned loudly.

“Careful,” she said. “Or you’ll get arrested for indecency.”

“But you suck so well, Mary,” he said with his eyes closed.

She placed her hands on his ass and pulled herself to him, forcing herself to deepthroat him.

“Fuck yes!” he exclaimed. She started bobbing her head across his shaft faster and faster. She could taste his precum steadily oozing out.

He was going to cum soon.

He tried to reach in and grab her by the head, but the mystical laws of the universe forbade it— until, that is, she said he could come in. He then tried to touch her breasts, but they were too far past the door for him to do so.

“Fuck, Mary, please let me in. I need to touch you!”

She giggled on top of his cock, and started moaning loudly on him. All he could do was get his cock sucked. He might as well put his hands behind his back and realize he was at a glory hole.

Mary’s glory hole— meant just for him.

She brought her hand into play and began corkscrewing it around his member, keeping her mouth locked around him.

He shuddered.

“I’m going to fucking cum, Mary. Ah shit. I’m going to cum! Here I go!”

She surprised him by taking all of his cum in her mouth— rope after rope. Sweet, oozy gooey cords of cum swirled and shot on her tongue, filling her mouth. Oh, she loved how he tasted. Like nectar.

He shuddered as she squeezed the last of the cum out of his cock, and then exhaled deeply. “OK, can I come in now?” he asked.

She shook her head no and smiled at him.

“What! Why?” he asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. “When I’m done with you, maybe…” She sucked him quickly back and forth a few times before popping her head off.  She swallowed his cum and felt immediately giddy. Were there benefits to humans consuming vampires? She smiled at the thought.

She stood up and saw that his erection wasn’t going anywhere. Nor was he.

She slid her yoga pants down and arched her ass to his cock, easing him into her. Inch after terrifying inch. He sure did have a huge cock on him!

She bounced her fat ass onto him

“Mary, ooh I just want to slap your ass,” he said. “Please let me in.”

“Not until I’m ready,” she said and smiled back at him.

He couldn’t thrust within her. He was completely at the mercy of her pace. But she knew what he wanted and how he needed it. She didn’t know how, but she did. She could sense it.

She increased the pace, and let her ass jiggle and shake on his member.

“I am so going to spank you when you let me in!”
“Promise?” she asked.

“Oh yes. Your ass is going to be sore for a week.”

She bounced on him faster.

Faster.

Faster still.

He started grunting like Scott in his werewolf state. He was an animal.

“Mary, I’m going to cum again soon! Oh Mary. Your ass is so hot. God you’re fucking hot!”

This was the moment she had been waiting for. Would it work?

“Cum inside of me! Cum in me, baby! Cum inside!”

The barrier broke and he fell into her.

He pushed her to the ground until she was laying on her stomach, and began fucking her full on helter skelter. The sound of their flesh smacking together filled the night air.

“Aaahhhhhhhoooooooooooooooo! YES! YES! YES!” Dorek growled with her door open. He shot his seed far within her. This time cumming more and harder than the first time. His cum sent her overboard and a full bodied orgasm roared through her too.

They collapsed to the ground, heaving and clinging to one another.

She looked at him and saw that his once smiling face got suddenly serious.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Well, I just… I just remembered that you’re entranced by me. I just remembered that this might not be real.”

Mary looked up to the ceiling and shook her head.  “Boys can be so silly sometimes,” she said.

Dorek furrowed his brow.

“One,” she said and held up a finger. “I was fully aware of what I was doing all night long. Not once did I harbor a single doubt about spending the night with you— I was entranced, but I wanted to be. And two,” she held up another finger. “I was into you long before I ever saw you with your shades off. And so yes, you have a spell on me, stupid boy, but that spell has been on me a long time, and you have no control over it.”

Dorek smiled and said, “Promise?”

“I promise,” Mary said.

EPILOGUE

The next night, before he went to work, he showed up back at Mary’s back door.

“Will you help me get ready for work?” he asked with messy hair and a scruffy chin.

Mary reached out and pulled him by his shirt collar inside.

After they had loud, animal sex that disturbed the neighbors awake, she helped him choose a tie and combed his hair.

THE END

RANCHER BEAR’S BABY

STORY DESCRIPTION

Her life is a country song, no job, cheating boyfriend, pregnant by a one-night stand. What else can go wrong?

Elizabeth gave up everything and followed her boyfriend across the country hoping the move would cement their relationship.

Then, she found him in the arms of another woman.

Alex actually thinks it’s funny his father’s will states that the first to produce offspring inherits the family’s billion-dollar ranching operation.

He’d rather party and play than run a ranch.

When Alex meets Elizabeth, sparks ignite and they share a night of steamy passion.

Each cherishes only the memory of their one-night, until they receive news that they’ll soon have a little something else to cherish.

CHAPTER 1: Elizabeth

I kicked up dirt in my ruined ballet flats as I headed towards the sounds of screaming fans and country music. I wanted to find Sam and watch the rodeo with him. It was about time I tried to assimilate to the country way. We’d been in Landing, Wyoming for almost two weeks and I still hadn’t seen the little town’s nightlife.

As I spotted the small stadium, if you could even call it that, I couldn’t help comparing it to the nightlife I was used to. DC had everything, culture, dancing, drinking. There was more, but at twenty-three, those three things ranked pretty high on my list of fun things to do.

What ranked pretty low was walking down a dirt path between the only motel in Landing and the little mud hole where the rodeo was held. My flats were label and had cost me a pretty penny. A penny I no longer had, so I had no hope of replacing them. They’d been the victim of Sam thinking he was going to cheer me up about the dust I’d been tracking through to get to the local library. He’d tried to clean the delicate suede with a nice rough run through an industrial sized washing machine at the laundry mat.

The stadium was really just a big fence surrounding a bunch of dirt and a few sets of metal stands. There was a big wooden box set up on one end with windows revealing a few men who were giving commentary about what was happening in the dirt.

I passed by a few cowboys in their outfits and smiled at them. Of course, they just stared at me. If I had to say one thing about Landing’s population, it was that they were the most private stand-offish people I’d ever met. They weren’t big on strangers. While it seemed like they’d taken a liking to Sam, even the sweet looking librarian clammed up when I walked into the library, looking to borrow her paper to job hunt.

The metal seating was mostly full, which was surprising for the small town. I never expected so many people to show up for something that didn’t make much sense to me.

I stood at the bottom of the stands and looked for Sam, the guy I’d moved across the country with. He sure had been hard to find since we arrived in Landing. I could feel the people in the stands looking at me, but I ignored it and just focused on finding my newly mysterious boyfriend. I made my way around the stadium with no luck. I couldn’t find him anywhere.

He’d said that he would be there, so I found a seat and tried to blend into the crowd while I waited for him to show up. It wasn’t easy, that much was sure. Landing residents seemed to scoot away when I walked by them. I wanted to like them, but I’d never felt quite so shunned in my entire life. I didn’t think I’d done anything to offend them, but they all seemed to want to keep their distance from me.

The country music screeched to a halt and a man with a thick accent started talking about the next cowboy up. The men were riding bulls, which just seemed dangerous and pointless to me. I was slightly concerned for the bulls, too. It couldn’t be healthy for them to have such large men sitting on their backs. As I contemplated the cruelty level of bull riding, a man caught my eye.

I mean, caught my eye in a different way. Different because, first of all, he was the first person who had looked me in the eye since I’d arrived. Second, something seemed to sizzle in my lower belly the moment our gazes connected. Butterflies was too innocent a word to use for what I was feeling. In all actuality, it felt like someone had released a thousand tornadoes in my stomach, that were all spinning and swirling and trying to escape at once.

The man was big. He towered over the tall men around him, making them seem average, at best. His shoulders were wide enough to land a small plane on, and his arms bulged with muscles that tested the limits of the denim shirt he was wearing. A narrow waist and hips were encased in dark leather chaps. I was hungry to know what feast was waiting for my eyes when he turned around and gave me a backside view.

Tousled blonde hair fell almost to his shoulders and peeked out from a dusty cowboy hat. His lower face was all sharp angles and five o’clock shadow. I couldn’t see his eyes as clearly as I wanted to and I found myself standing, my body desperate to get a closer look.

I bumped my ankle on part of the metal seating and the pain cleared the haze from my head. I blinked a few times and felt my eyes go wide. What in the world? The cowboy was still there, standing in the dust right inside the fence, watching me with a half-grin on his face. He winked and I reacted like someone had set my ass on fire. I jumped about a foot in the air and then rushed towards the exit.

With my heart racing, I fought the urge to look back at the man. Something about his raw masculinity was calling to me like no man ever had before, but I’d never been a cheater and I had no plans on starting. I had to just get away from him and pray that whatever I was feeling went away. Damn, I had to cool off. No, I had to find my boyfriend and make him spend some time with me so I could remember why I didn’t need to feel anything for anyone else. Sam was enough. He had to be.

I decided It would be my best course of action to go back to the motel and find my phone so I could call him. I could ask him to come home and then wait for him in nothing but a skimpy nightie. Things between Sam and me were okay. I’d just have to prove that to myself, I figured. I shook out my trembling hands and tried to forget about the sexy stranger. The tornadoes in my stomach hadn’t calmed down any, but it was probably something funny I’d eaten.

When I rounded the corner of the stadium, from the new angle, I spotted Sam’s truck at the back corner of the parking lot. The shiny new chrome stood out amongst the other vehicles and I had a momentary pang of anger at Sam. He’d just had to have a new truck. I’d poured more of my hard-earned money into it than I cared to admit. It was yet another part of his country western dream that I was going along with.

The closer I got to the truck, the closer I got to realizing something wasn’t right. The cheering from the rodeo drowned out most of the moans, but not all of them. Chills swept through me as it dawned on me that I knew what I was going to find when I reached the front bumper of the truck, but it didn’t stop me.

I trailed my fingers along the warm metal at the side of the truck until I stood beside the bed of it and could clearly see Sam going at it with a woman who was bent over in front of him on the other side of the bed. Judging by the look on her face, she was really enjoying it. Judging by the look on his face, he’d spotted me.

“Shit! Beth!”

Dread dropped like steel in my stomach, crushing everything in its path, including the tornadoes and my ability to keep my lunch down. I bent over and threw up on the special edition rims that he’d wanted. They didn’t matter much anymore, anyway.

CHAPTER 2: Elizabeth

By the time Sam got his pants up, I was halfway across the parking lot. I didn’t have a clue where I was going, and I wasn’t seeing clearly through the tears.

I’d given up my life in DC to join him on his stupid journey of getting back to his roots. I’d given up my job and my beautiful apartment. I’d given up being near people who loved me and wanted to be with me.

The injustice of it all settled on my chest and I found myself so angry that I wanted to hit something, someone. I wanted to hit Sam. I’d never been violent, but I could feel my fingers tightening into fists at the idea of laying into him.

“Beth! Jesus, stop. Let me talk to you!” Sam caught my shoulder and spun me around.

It was the push I needed. I swung my hand out at him, aiming to clean his clock, but he ducked it. Frustrated, I shoved him away. “Don’t let me stop you, Sam. Go back to fucking Daisy Dukes over there.”

“Are you going to calm down any?”

I laughed. “Go to hell, Sam. It’s over. We’re over. This whole thing was a stupid mistake.”

“We’ve been together for two years, Beth. You just moved across the country with me! You’re really going to end it like this?”

“You’re really going to fuck someone else while I’m waiting for you to come back to the motel?”

He tossed his hands in the air and seemed exasperated. “I’m sorry, okay? Let’s just forget this. Come back to the room with me.”

I sat down on the curb behind me and crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m done with this, Sam. Let’s not drag it out.”

He punched the car next to us and backed away. “I’m going back to the room. I’ll be there, ready to talk, when you are.”

I didn’t watch him go. I really was done. I knew in my gut that this was one of those times when I made up my mind about something, and I stuck with it. I was ending a two-year relationship in a matter of seconds, but strangely, it didn’t feel the way it should have. I was pissed, embarrassed, and hurt, but I didn’t feel crushed by the thought of leaving Sam. Not five minutes after I’d made the decision, and I was already thinking about how good it would feel to get back to DC. Hell, all I needed now was a little bitch fest with my girlfriends about Sam doing me wrong, and I’d be over him for good. And the best part? I’d get to escape the country hell he’d landed me in.

I sat there for over two hours watching people get in their cars and leave. When there was just one truck across the lot and the lights around the arena flickered out, I realized that I wasn’t as okay as I thought. I mean, I was still certain of my decision, but I hadn’t thought about how I was going to get back to DC. Everything I owned was in that motel room with Sam. I had no money, no transportation, and nowhere to stay the night. The last thing I wanted to do was have to step back into a hotel room with a waiting, pleading, cheating bastard.

The tears that I’d been fighting off fell too easily as I realized just how alone I was, and just how dark it was in the parking lot.

CHAPTER 3: Alex

The rodeo had done nothing to sooth my nerves. Every muscle in my body had been tense since I’d seen her in the stands. My bear was pawing at me, telling me to go and find her. He wanted to ravish the little human. I wasn’t far behind.

It’d been a while since I’d felt anything besides anger and frustration. For over two months, I’d been dealing with the shit from Dad’s death. He’d left the ranch in a fucking mess, that was sure. No boss, no back up plan, no nothing. My oldest brother, Matt had stepped in as temporary overseer, but, in my opinion, he wasn’t exactly the best man for the job.

Matt was no better than my other brothers. Lucas, Michael, and John were all money-obsessed. They didn’t give a shit about the ranch when it came down to it. It was all about the bottom line on their financial spreadsheets.

Despite the constant distraction in my head that my family situation had become, everything had quieted when I saw her. It was as though the entire world around us stilled for those few moments. I’d fucked my way through every woman, bear and human alike, in Landing, and every town around, but I’d never felt anything like I’d felt when I laid my sore eyes on her. The universe was paused, and then she turned and ran. My bear had tried to take control, and go after her.

Her scent called to us. Honeysuckle with a little hint of something spicy. It’d taken everything in me not to chase after her when she’d left. My bear had roared in my head, scratching at my insides, demanding I find her.

I’d stayed late at the stadium, using the excuse that I needed to make sure everything was locked down tight, but, in reality, I needed more time to calm down. My fur was still just under the surface. I was too close to shifting to be able to hang out at the bar with everyone else. Adding liquor to my current agitated state was a sure fire way to cause a disaster.

A hint of her scent wafted through the parking lot as I headed out to my truck. Damn. I shook my head. I was losing it, smelling her when she wasn’t even there.

The farther into the lot I got, though, the stronger the scent. She was here. Somewhere. I stopped moving and tilted my head back to take in a deeper breath. Her scent came from the north end of the lot, the darkest corner. When I tuned into my senses, I realized I could hear whimpering.

Fur sprouted from my arms and hands as my bear roared in my head. He shouted that she was hurt and we had to save her, but I was already running in her direction.

I spotted her, sitting on the curb, looking small and vulnerable. With a quick scan of the area, I saw no imminent threat, but it didn’t stop my bear from raging at the sight of her tears.

I was still a few feet away from her when she looked up and spotted me. Her bright blue eyes widened to saucers and her hands balled into little fists in front of her face, ready to fight.

“What are you doing?!”

I froze in place and shook my head. Great, I thought, I’d scared the hell out of her by charging at her. “I heard you crying. Are you okay?”

The tension in her shoulders relaxed a bit and her fists uncurled. She reached up and swiped at the tears. “I’m not crying.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Of course, not. What are you doing out here in the dark?”

She wrapped her arms back around her knees and frowned. “It wasn’t dark until a few seconds ago.”

My dick hardened into steel as her plump breasts were pushed up as they rested on her knees. Her dress barely contained the beauties and my mouth watered at the sight. “Need a lift?”

As she hesitated, I shoved my hands in my pockets, trying to look harmless. It wasn’t easy. I was a big guy, an even bigger bear, and everything inside me was demanding that I grab her and claim her.

That gave me a slight pause. Claim? I’d never felt the urge to claim anyone before. I’d damn sure never wanted to have that urge before. Fucking my way through town had never seemed like a bad way to live. Claiming someone meant having a mate to come home to, it meant responsibility. It meant forever. Forever for a bear who liked to roam wild and free, was a long time.

I looked down at the small human and took a step back. My bear roared at me and demanded that I get closer to her. He was infatuated already.

“I…  I don’t have anywhere to go.” The words seemed to break some type of barrier that she’d erected upon seeing me. The tears began silently falling again and it didn’t seem like they were going to stop.

My bear was so close to the surface that I was sure my eyes were turning golden. I blinked a few times and tried to remain in control. “Alright. How about you just get in my truck for now and we can decide where to take you after? It’s going to rain soon.”

She looked up at the sky and then at me. “You aren’t some pervert, are you?”

I couldn’t help the sly grin I gave her. “Of course, not, ma’am.”

CHAPTER 4: Alex

“I’m Alex, by the way.”

She stood up and straightened her dress. Her hands shook slightly as she rubbed the fabric down across her thighs. “Elizabeth.”

I walked beside her to my truck and had to fight to keep my hands to myself. She was way too sexy, and smelled so damned good. At probably a foot and a half shorter than me, she made up for her lack of height with the most delicious curves. Her waist dipped in but her hips and ass flared, begging for me to bite at them. I wanted nothing more than to bury my face between her legs and find out if she tasted as good as she smelled.

“Why don’t you have anywhere to go?”

“Because my boyfriend is an asshole.”

Boyfriend? Whoa… my bear raged so much, I had to cough to cover a growl. The bear was pissed, but the man was irate. I’d been entertaining visions of sinking into her soft curves since I’d first spotted her. The idea of another man touching her set my teeth on edge. “Yeah?”

She shrugged and a lock of her long blonde hair fell over her shoulder. “I guess I can say ex now. I just caught him banging some red head over the side of his truck. So, that’s over.”

I opened my truck door and stared down at her. “He cheated on you? What the fuck is wrong with him?”

That got a grin out of her. “That’s not even the best part. I just moved here with him. From DC. I packed up and moved across the country to be with an idiot who cheated on me within days of arriving. I sold my favorite bedroom set!”

Even seeing her cheeks turn red and her muscles tense in anger turned me on like nothing I’d ever felt before. I wanted more of her. “Sounds like a fucking asshat to me. What else?”

She tilted her head and bit her lip. “What else?”

I grinned. “I’ve had exes before. The lists of things they were pissed about were always longer than that. What else did he do?”

“Oh. Um…  He begged me to help him buy a new truck. I emptied my savings for that. It’s a stupid truck. It’s like a shiny new toy. He wouldn’t even let me take the plastic off the seats. And he didn’t apologize tonight! I caught him screwing someone else and he didn’t even apologize! The worst thing, the absolute worst thing, is that he’s sure that I’m coming back to the room tonight. He’s probably expecting me to walk in at any minute. He’s in for a rude awakening. I’d rather be homeless than go back to him.”

I watched as she looked up at my truck and tried to figure out how to get into it. “Need some help?”

CHAPTER 5: Elizabeth

I side-glanced at Alex and then back up at the truck. I knew the limitations of my short stature. I could climb into the truck, sure, but there was no way I could do it without flashing him half my backside. “Um, yeah, actually.”

I expected him to extend his hand or his arm to help me hoist myself, but he wrapped his hands around my waist and moved like he was going to pick me up. I made a squeaking noise and shook my head. I was short, but I had plenty of curves and none of them were lightweight. The thought of him straining and struggling to lift me into the cab was mortifying. Lord knows, I’d suffered enough humiliation tonight.

“What’s wrong?”

I stared up at him and felt my cheeks go red. “You can’t pick me up like that.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not exactly a feather. Believe me, I’m heavier than I look.”

He laughed and, hot damn if he didn’t pick me up with ease, and sit me down on the truck seat. He left his hands on my waist. “These muscles aren’t just for filling up my shirt, ma’am.”

I couldn’t help but giggle. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing with him, but there was something about him that made it pretty darn difficult to say no. The tornadoes in my stomach were back with a vengeance and every time we made eye contact, they swirl a little faster, a little wilder.

“Thank you.”

His eyes were honey brown up close. They seemed to glow golden sometimes when he looked at me. “You’re welcome.”

The silence between us grew. His hands were still on me and the air between us seemed to be alive. My skin was raised with goosebumps and even the light cotton covering my chest suddenly felt heavy.

Thunder rolled in the distance and Alex’s fingers tightened on me. “It’s going to be a big storm.”

I looked past him and watched the night sky light up with a lightning bolt. Anxiety nagged at the edges of my mind until I could no longer ignore it. I pulled away from Alex and crossed my arms under my chest. “This wasn’t how things were supposed to work out,” I mumbled.

“Fasten your seatbelt,” was all he said before closing the door and walking around the front of the truck to get it. He slammed his own door shut and then started the truck. “Ready?”

I shrugged. “Where are we going?”

“My trailer. This storm isn’t gonna be nice and there’s no way I’m leaving you out here in it.”

Heat blossomed south of my stomach and I shifted in my seat. “You don’t have to do that, Alex. I can’t go to your home.”

“You can and you will. You can even have the bed. You’ve had a long night.”

“You’re being so nice. Thank you. I mean it. I don’t know what I’d be doing right now if it weren’t for you.”

He pulled out of the lot as the first fat rain drops started to fall. “No need to thank me. I get to spend some time in the company of a beautiful woman. Things could be a whole lot worse. The way I see it, it’s a win-win.”

“And you promise you’re not a sex-crazed pervert?”

He laughed. “I’m not a sex-crazed pervert. Promise.”

I tried to relax into the seat, but it was nearly impossible with his sexy body sitting so close. “Well, I appreciate you giving me a place to stay. I don’t know what I would have done. I just knew I wasn’t going back to that motel while he was there, waiting.”

“What are you going to do?”

I looked out at the storm that was just starting to pick up. “Still don’t know.”

CHAPTER 6: Elizabeth

We were both quiet the rest of the way to his trailer. I was focused on the intensity of the growing storm, while Alex hummed along to the country song on the radio. It was oddly comforting, considering my situation.

When we arrived at his trailer, he ran around to help me down from the truck. In the few seconds it took for us to get from his truck to the front door, we were both soaked through. He opened the door and pushed me inside right as a massive boom of thunder hit.

I screamed and jumped, the sound like an electric jolt to my already fried nerves. “Jeez! Does it always storm like that here?”

He dropped his cowboy hat on the floor and then kicked off his boots. “We get some big ones. Let me grab you a towel.”

While he disappeared down a hallway, I looked around. His trailer was clean, for the most part. The coffee table was littered with an empty pizza box and a few beer cans, but for a guy who appeared to live alone, it was clean.

I stood on the small tile entryway and shivered. His air conditioning must’ve been on high. The water dripping from my soaked hair and body felt like it was going to freeze in place.

“Do you want to take a hot shower and get out of that dress?”

I snapped my head around to Alex and froze. He’d taken his shirt off and his pants were unbuttoned. The weight of the rain water was tugging them low, letting me see a lot more skin than I’d prepared for. His chest was something that I knew I’d never forget, his abs a dream, and that sexy ‘V’ leading to his...

I grew warmer just looking at him. A shower would give me a chance to get away from his abs for a few minutes. “Do you have anything I could change into?”

He pointed down the hallway. “Last door is my bedroom. The closet is open. Feel free to grab anything. The bathroom’s through there. Take your time.”

I slipped out of my now completely destroyed shoes and hurried to his room trying not to think of the double entendre that popped into my head when he told me that I could grab anything. I closed the door behind me and locked it. I took a fast shower, using his soap and shampoo, and then dried off. His closet was a smorgasbord of T-shirts, flannels, worn jeans, and flannel bottoms.

I knew the bottoms would never fit, so I didn’t even bother. I pulled on one of the flannel shirts and buttoned it. It fell almost to my knees and smelled like soap and something woodsy. Feeling warmer, I finger combed my hair and then headed out to the living room.

Alex was in the kitchen, staring into the fridge. I must’ve made a sound because he turned to face me as soon as I stepped into the kitchen. His eyes traveled the length of my body and back up again. I pulled the shirt that had slipped, back onto my shoulder and forced a tight smile.

“I hope this is okay. I was freezing.”

His eyes seemed to get brighter as he nodded and licked his lips. “It suits you.”

I looked down at my toes and wiggled them as I thought about what I should say. “I really appreciate you letting me stay here. No one else in this town has been nice to me at all. I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Landing can be a pretty private place.”

I gestured around us. “But you let me in your private space.”

“The other option was to leave you all to your lonesome crying in the dark in the middle of a torrential downpour. What kind of man would I be if I did that?”

I looked up and was surprised to find that he’d mostly closed the gap between us. He was close enough that I could, and did, watch a drop of water roll down his chest. “Aren’t you cold?”

He shook his head, causing a few more droplets to sprinkle me. “I run hot.”

He could say that again. I sucked in a breath and tried to remember that I’d just broken up with Sam a few hours ago. I was supposed to be sad and distraught, go through a healing period. I was…  Oh, crap, I was head over heels in lust with Alex. I was. Something about the man was calling to me.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” I spit the words out while I still had the ability to speak. It seemed that being around him was burning up my fine motor skills.

He grinned. “No. Why do you ask?”

I gasped as the front of his jeans touched my thighs. I backed into his kitchen counter and realized that I was out of space to move away from him. Not that I wanted to. My body was reeling. My hands trembled as I grabbed the counter and my knees were trying to knock out a rhythm against each other. I’d never felt such a desire, such a need for someone that my body vibrated with it.

“Elizabeth?”

I bit my lip and raised my eyebrows. “Huh?”

“Why do you ask?”

I stuttered as I answered. “Just… uh, just wondering.”

Alex leaned down until he was eye level with me and then lifted me onto the counter like I weighed nothing. “Something’s happening here.”

I nodded because there was no use denying it. When he moved forward, I opened my legs wider so he could stand between them.

“You can tell me to go fuck off and still stay here tonight. Just so you know.”

Something about him giving me an out made me lose the little bit of doubt that was nagging at the back of my mind. I let my shirt fall off of my shoulder again and held his heated gaze. “I don’t want to tell you to fuck off. Just so you know.”

CHAPTER 7: Alex

The little spice in her words was all I needed to hear to convince me that she wanted me just as badly as I wanted her. I could smell the sweetness of her arousal and it was driving me insane besides wreaking havoc on my bear, but I needed to be sure before I acted upon it.

I took one more look at her, sitting there in my flannel. Her shoulder was bare where one side of the collar had slid off, and the bottom of the shirt had ridden up her thighs. I had plans to lick and tongue every inch of her smooth, creamy skin.

I wove my fingers through the hair at the back of her head and pulled her mouth to mine. The little moan she let out as I gently kissed her sweet lips scorched my every nerve ending. I flicked my tongue out and teased her lips before taking her mouth.

Elizabeth didn’t just relinquish control. No, she pushed back, fighting for her own dominance in the kiss. She bit my lip and then sucked my tongue into her mouth. I pressed my dick against her core, unable to help myself. I ached for her. I needed to be inside her.

I gripped her thighs and then ran my hands up to her waist. “So fucking soft.”

Her hands fumbled at the button of my pants for a second before she gave up and palmed me through them. “So fucking hard.”

I grabbed her ass and pulled her off the counter. With her legs wrapped around my waist like a vice, I carried us to my bedroom. My face was buried against her neck so I could bask in her scent. My bear was roaring his pleasure, but with my mouth against the smooth skin of her neck, he beckoned me to mark her. He wanted me to claim the female as our own, to keep her with us forever.

Elizabeth ran her hands through my hair and tugged. “You stopped.”

I’d been so lost in fighting the urge to mark her that I’d just frozen. I planted a kiss on her neck and forced myself to pull away from it. I kicked the bedroom door closed and tossed her on the bed. “I was thinking about how many ways I could take you before the sun comes up.”

She raised up on her knees and slowly unbuttoned the top button of the flannel. I’d never loved that shirt more. Her eyes moved over my body, heated and heavy-lidded with desire. “Take off your pants.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re the boss now?”

The button gave way and her hands moved down to the next one. “Maybe. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

I growled, unable to stop the response. I was seconds away from slamming my dick into her and she wanted to toy with me. She didn’t understand how little self-control I had at that moment.

“Woman.”

Her grin was slow and her eyes bore into mine.

“Man.”

I unfastened my jeans and pushed them lower on my hips.

“You first.”

She worked another button loose and then dropped her hands to the bed.

“I want the pants, Alex.”

I’d never been with a woman who pushed back against me. Something about her demands, about her projecting her own dominance rocked me. I wanted to fall to my knees in front of her and beg for the opportunity to touch her. My pride refused to allow that, though.

Instead, I shoved my pants down and stood naked in front of her. I watched her eyes go wide and felt my muscles flex in response. Her arousal scented the air more heavily and I tilted my head back to breathe it in.

“Your turn, little one.”

She went back to unbuttoning the shirt, painfully slowly, with her eyes glued on me. When she got to the last button, she undid it and then held the shirt closed with her hands.

“Ask nicely.”

Without thinking, I jumped on the bed and tackled her into the pillows behind her. I grabbed her wrists and held them above her head.

“You’re a tease.”

Her eyes flashed and her chest rose and fell faster. I could hear her heartbeat racing.

“The word tease implies that I’m not going to put out.”

I bent down and nipped at the skin on her collar bone.

“And are you?”

She arched her hips and my dick settled against the bare lips of her pussy. Her wetness coated me as she rocked her hips back and forth.

“Yes. I’m yours for the night, cowboy.”

And there it was. The night. My bear huffed and urged me to claim her. Don’t let her leave. It couldn’t be just one night. On night wasn’t nearly enough. I ignored him and took my time ogling her body, spread out under me.

Her skin was smooth and naturally sun-kissed. My thoughts filled with images of how good she’d look swimming in the stream behind my house, naked. Hell, she’d look good anywhere naked.

I cupped her breasts, unable to resist for any longer. They filled my hands perfectly. Her nipples were small, pink buds, hard against my palms. I dipped my head and took one into my mouth. Her taste exploded on my tongue, honey and sweetness.

“Alex!” Elizabeth’s voice was higher as she locked her hands in my hair and pulled my mouth closer to her flesh.

I flicked my tongue over her and then moved to the other one, teasing it in just the same way. When I ignored them to move down her stomach, she whined. Her skin was soft under the stubble on my chin and as I rubbed it across her stomach, she shivered.

Her fingers tightened almost painfully in my hair as my mouth burned a trail to the sweet spot between her thighs. I stroked my tongue up the junction of her legs and labia, wanting to drive her insane before delving into her. I sucked at a spot on her thigh and left a mark, satisfying the bear a little bit.

She lifted her hips, giving herself to me. “Please, Alex.”

Hearing her beg pushed me over the edge. I ran my tongue up her slit and then parted her lips to flick my tongue over her clit. She tasted sweet and it sent me back for more over and over again. I teased her with long strokes until her nails dug into my scalp. Then, I slipped a finger into her as my tongue settled over her clit.

Elizabeth rode my face like a champ. Her hips twisted and rolled, putting my mouth wherever she wanted it. When I slipped a second finger into her, she damn near busted my nose with an especially excited thrust of her hips. My little firecracker wasn’t shy about her needs in the bedroom.

The bit of fight for control spurred me to give her more. I fucked her with my mouth until she was screaming out my name and coming on my fingers. Her thighs shook under me and as I glanced up at her, I saw how flushed her entire chest and face got as she came. It was the damn sexiest thing I’d ever seen to watch the creeping blush rise as her body shuddered and convulsed in pleasure.

She used her grip on my hair to tug me up and then kissed me like she couldn’t get enough of me. I kept my fingers in her, though, readying her for me. I scissored my fingers and then pushed in a third. I swallowed her moan and thought of anything I could to avoid shooting off early.

“Fuck me. I need you in me.”

Her ragged voice called to me and I barely restrained myself from sinking my teeth into her shoulder and leaving her with a claiming mark. I slid my fingers out and then stroked her clit.

“Condom?”

I reached over to my nightstand and grabbed one before sitting back and rolling it on. I looked back at her and noticed the slightly annoyed look on her face.

“What?”

She shook her head.

“What?” I repeated.

“You’re prepared.”

I grinned down at her and then rubbed the head of my dick against her. “Jealous?”

CHAPTER 8: Alex

Something in Elizabeth’s face told me she was. My bear was delighted that our little human was already feeling possessive of us. Although, I knew she wouldn’t understand. It was different for humans. They didn’t understand the attraction of true mates like bears did.

She reached down and grabbed me.

“Are you going to fuck me?”

My hips rocked into her grip naturally.

“Oh, yeah.”

She lined our bodies up and wrapped her legs around me.

“Then do it. I want you. Now.”

I kissed her as I slowly thrust my way into her tight body. She gripped me like a vise and I had to push in harder to get all of my length in. When my dick was all the way in, I stayed still to let her adjust. My chest was heaving from the effort of not coming. I’d never been gripped like she was gripping me. Her hot little body was holding mine like both our bodies had been waiting our whole lives for just this connection.

When I could move, Elizabeth came alive under me. She pressed her mouth to my ear and begged me for it as I pumped in and out of her. I rubbed my face over her neck and dragged my teeth over the skin there, teasing myself with the potential of tying us together for the rest of our lives. I wanted to. Lord help me, I wanted to sink my teeth in. What had started as my bear roaring at me to claim her had turned into the man wanting it.

“You feel so fucking good.”

She moaned and nipped my ear.

I moved faster and harder, showing her that it could be even better. She tightened even more around me, tempting my body to lose control.

Elizabeth rocked her hips into me and tightened when I pushed into her until my eyes were damn near rolling back in my head. I knew I wasn’t going to last much longer, so I angled my hips higher so with every stroke my pelvis would rub her clit. Just a few thrusts more and she raked her nails down my back while crying out my name. She sank her teeth into my shoulder and it was all I could handle.

I came harder than I ever remembered coming in my life. My body felt like it was being sucked through my dick as I jerked and spasmed inside her. I grunted out her name and wrapped my arms around her while rolling to the side slightly so I didn’t completely suffocate her.

Several minutes passed before either of us moved. When I did slip out of her, she groaned and buried her head against my shoulder. I reached down to take the condom off and felt it hanging off of me in shreds. I looked down and cursed.

“What’s wrong?”

I leaned back so she could see and watched her eyes go big.

“That’s not good.”

My chest tightened and I had a moment of panic, fearing the worst. My bear nudged me, telling me that it was okay, that this was how it was supposed to be because she was mine. I knew she was my mate, but still, thinking that she could potentially get pregnant with my cub scared the hell out of me. I wasn’t ready for anything like that.

“Are you by chance on the pill?”

She sat up and fumbled to get the flannel shirt back on.

“No, but let’s not panic. I’ll just take a morning after pill.”

My chest tightened even more. Why didn’t I like that? Fuck, I wasn’t even sure what I wanted or needed. I reached out and tugged the shirt back off of her shoulders.

“Come here.”

Her body was stiffer than it had been, but I didn’t know how to fix it at that moment. I just did what felt right. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into my chest.

“Rest, little one.”

CHAPTER 9: Elizabeth

I woke up before Alex and squeezed myself out from under his heavy body. The man slept like the dead. I was used to that, though. Sam slept the same way.

At the thought of Sam, I felt sick. It wasn’t the way I thought it would be, though. I thought I’d feel sick because of what I’d done with Alex the night before, but instead, I felt sick thinking of having ever been with Sam. Thoughts of Sam settled in my stomach about as easily as a brick.

I went to the bathroom and then brushed my teeth using some of Alex’s toothpaste and my finger. My hair had dried into a weird mess, so I braided it down my back and then pulled my slightly stiff but dry dress back on.

The spark I felt for Alex had grown into a torch. I couldn’t even look at him without feeling slightly unbalanced. He was kind and seemed like someone I would actually enjoy being with outside the bedroom as much as I did inside. I stifled a giggle. Inside the bedroom had been amazing. The sex was earth shattering. I’d actually lost my mind and bitten the man. I’d never bitten anyone during sex before.

The connection between us, my incredibly strong attraction to him, it was all so strange. One night stands had never been my kind of thing. Meeting him and feeling comfortable enough to come back to his trailer with him and sleep with him all on the same night was so unlike me. I just instinctively trusted him and felt drawn to him. Everything about this sounded so stupid in my head, but there it was.

I pulled my legs under me and stared out of the windows across from Alex’s couch. None of what I was feeling for Alex mattered. I couldn’t stay. I had to go back to DC. Wyoming hadn’t been my dream. I came because of Sam. I didn’t even have a job here, no friends, family, connections, nothing. Now that things were over with Sam, it was time for me to go home..

“Come back to bed.” Naked, Alex stood in the doorway to his bedroom, leaning on the door jamb looking confused and grumpy.

“Sleep better with you there.”

My chest ached painfully and I shook my head. I wanted to go back to bed with him. I wanted to pretend like I’d come to Wyoming to be with him instead of Sam, and that things were going great. I wanted last night over and over again. But that wasn’t reality. Reality was that this hot, sexy, sweet man and I just had an awesome roll in the hay which temporarily took my mind off of the fact that my life was a mess, and now it’s time to put on my big girl panties. I had to rip off the band-aid, and face my future.

“I have to go.”

He rubbed his hands down his face and then pushed them through his hair. It went all over the place but, somehow, he ended up looking even sexier.

“Why?”

“I have to go home.”

He growled and stepped towards me. “To your ex?”

I shook my head. “To DC.”

“No. It’s too early. Just come back to bed.”

“I can’t. I have to go, Alex.”

He went back to his room and came back out a few seconds later with a pair of pajama bottoms hanging low on his hips.

“You can stay here. Stay until you get on your feet.”

Tears filled my eyes and I had to look away so he wouldn’t see them. “There’s nothing for me here in Landing. Everyone treats me like I’m diseased. I came here because of my ex and now it’s time for me to go. I need to put my life back together.”

He sighed. “I can’t make you stay, but I wish you would.”

I nodded and stood up. “I have to go by the motel and grab my wallet, at least. I have to buy a bus ticket and get out of here.”

“I’ll drive you.”

Sam was gone, luckily, so I ran in, grabbed my purse, and quickly packed a bag. I held my tears in all the way to the bus stop. I was confused about how much pain I was feeling. I swear it wasn’t over Sam, or even leaving this place. It pained me to leave Alex. I didn’t know Alex well enough for any of the feelings I was having towards him to be genuine. I bet a shrink would tell me that it was some sort of misplaced something-or-other and that I had transferred feelings I’d wanted to have for Sam over to Alex, or some mumbo-jumbo like that.

Regardless, I felt a massive, weighty sorrow from saying goodbye to this man I barely knew. He insisted on buying the ticket for me, and then slipped his number into my purse while we silently waited for my bus to arrive.

When it did, I stood up on shaky legs and awkwardly backed away from Alex. I was weak and let the tears fall as I turned and got on the bus without hugging him goodbye. I’d never felt anything quite as intense, and the entire ride back to DC was spent crying over this man that I’d known for less than twenty-four hours. I was going home but it had never felt less like home.

CHAPTER 10: Elizabeth

Five Months Later…

I’d arrived in Landing, Wyoming the night before and had stayed in the same motel where Sam and I had lived for those couple weeks. Landing was exactly the same, although, for me, everything about everything had changed. I woke up early, feeling like shit, as usual. My body was revolting. I’d heard of people having easy first trimesters. I wasn’t one of them.

I stood in front of the floor length mirror that was attached to the back of the bathroom door and stared at my body. In my floral sundress, my pregnant belly was slightly blending in. So far, the rest of my body had stayed the same. Except my breasts. They were exploding all over the place.

Pregnant after a one night stand with a stranger. I was living in a Lifetime made for TV movie special.

I’d gone back to DC and had thrown myself into my work. I was fortunate in that I had been offered my old job back. They really didn’t need me, but had hired me back anyway out of the kindness of the boss’s heart. I’d practiced, daily, forcing myself to forget about Alex, although it never really took. I’d dreamt of the big man every single night, and daydreamed about him every single day. I was living in a constant haze, a fog that I hadn’t been able to lift.

The first month back, I’d been able to act like my missed period was nothing. With all the thoughts buzzing around in my head five months ago, on the morning I’d left Landing, I’d forgotten to take the morning after pill. Still, I’d convinced myself that my missed period was due to stress. The first month.

By the end of the second month, I realized that something wasn’t right. I started getting sick in the mornings. When I was finally able to get away from work, I took a pregnancy test and, sure enough, two pink lines. Positive. I was pregnant. Not only that, but I knew, without a doubt, that the baby was Alex’s.

I spent the next couple months arguing with myself about what I should do. The internal conflict was tearing me up. I didn’t want to be that girl. The girl who showed up at some guy she barely knew’s doorstep with stork news. I also didn’t think it was right for me to keep this news from Alex. Maybe he’d want to know. A part of me just wanted to see him; another part worried that I was asking for more heartache. I couldn’t help the fact that I really did want to see him. Something about that man drew me like a moth to a flame. I just hoped I didn’t get burned.

It was scorching hot outside as I walking towards Alex’s trailer. I passed a several people on the way, a few stared at my stomach with wide eyes. How bizarre. I looked down and rubbed it. “It’s okay, little guy. This town is just weird.”

I didn’t know for sure I was having a boy, but I just felt in my gut like I was—a mother’s intuition. I smiled to myself and shook my head. As crazy as it seemed, I felt good about my baby. Everything was tense and up in the air when it came to work and Alex, but I was solid when it came to my protectiveness of my baby. I would be taking good care of this little one.

Alex’s trailer came into view and the little tornadoes in my stomach started turning like crazy again.

His truck wasn’t in the drive, so I didn’t figure he’d be there, but I knocked anyway. Sure enough, no answer.

The next place I looked was the stadium. There were a few cowboys standing around outside, but Alex wasn’t one of them. Sweat was rolling down my chest and face. I started feeling a little panicked.

“Ma’am?” A big guy sent a little wave my way and started over toward me. “Something I can do for ya’?”

I tilted my head. “Yeah. I’m looking for Alex…” Embarrassingly, I didn’t even know his last name.

He grinned and cast a glance at my stomach. “Uh—huh. Alex is at the ranch today.”

I looked around and wiped sweat off my forehead. “How far is that from here?”

“Pretty far. I’m Jason,” he held out his hand and shook mine. “Let me drive you. It’s too hot for you to be out walking.”

I started to shake my head but then nodded. “I should probably refuse to get in a stranger’s car, but this heat has melted my brain.”

He grinned. “I’m not a stranger, anymore. I’m a friend of Alex’s. I also have a wife who’s a little farther along than you, so you’re safe.”

I held my belly. “Is it that noticeable? I thought it was kind of hidden in this dress.”

He laughed. “You’re fine. Come on. Let’s get some air on you.”

At the potential for air conditioning, I shut up. I climbed into his truck and adjusted the vents to point right at me. Jason turned the air on high and then waited until I buckled my seatbelt before putting the truck in gear and heading out of the lot.

“How’s he been?” I felt stupid as soon as I asked it. Was I really expecting to hear that he’d been just as wrecked as me?

“Well, I don’t know. He’s been a little distant from all of us lately. Cranky as hell, now that I think about it.”

I stayed silent the rest of the way. I was desperate to actually see Alex and put my anxiety to rest. Either he’d want to be a part of his child’s life, or he wouldn’t. There was nothing more to it. I just needed to give him the news and accept his answer. I was also hoping that seeing him would calm some of these tornadoes in my belly. Maybe I had falsely built up the connection I’d felt for him in my imagination so much over these last five months and that seeing him would bring me back down to earth. I’d see first-hand that that he was just a normal man, not the demi-god my damned psyche had made him out to be.

Jason made a few turns and then drove us through the gates and under a big sign that read Long Ranch. I looked around and spotted animals and a huge barn. We drove past that and after a few minutes, a large, white house opened up in front of us.

I was shocked by the sheer size of it. I could see people moving around through the large windows in the front of the house and saw a big tent set up out to the side of the house. “What’s happening?”

Jason laughed. “You picked a hell of a time to come back. The annual Long BBQ is tomorrow. Everyone is busy setting it up, looks like.”

I opened the door and climbed down from his truck. “Where should I look for Alex?”

He pointed to the front door. “You knock on that front door there and someone will find him for you, no doubt. Good luck.”

Good luck? That wasn’t exactly reassuring. I waved him away and then headed towards the front door. My stomach rolled.

I stood at the door and looked at the doorbell, with my hand over my stomach. I whispered to the little guy, doing my best to settle both of us. I raised my hand to knock, but the door was yanked open by a young girl who stood staring at me, wide-eyed.

She had the same sandy blonde hair as Alex and the same honey brown eyes. She couldn’t have been any older than thirteen and the excited squeal she let out confirmed that she was definitely a ball of energy. She threw her arms around me and squeezed me tight.

“Oh, my gosh! You’re having a baby!”

I didn’t feel uncomfortable with her little arms around me, so I just rested my hands on her back and let her hug me.

“I am.”

“You’re having Alex’s baby!”

CHAPTER 11: Elizabeth

I pulled back suddenly and frowned.

“How do you know that?”

She grinned a mischievous grin and shrugged.

“I can just tell. Come on. I’ll take you to him. He’s upstairs, working. We’ll get him up, though.”

I dug in my heels, suddenly convinced I’d made a hugely stupid decision coming here.

“I think I’d better wait out here.”

An older woman, just as beautiful and striking as the little girl, stepped into the entry way and stopped short. She looked at my stomach and took a deep breath in. Her eyes went wide and she screamed Alex’s name at the top of her lungs.

I held up my hands and felt my entire body go red.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt. I’ll just go. This was a mistake.”

She rushed towards me and grabbed my hand.

“No, no. I’m sorry to startle you. It’s just not every day a pregnant woman shows up at my doorstep. Bailey, go and get your brother. Now.”

“Really. I think I’d better leave.”

She held my hand in both of hers and met my eyes. “Sweetheart, stay, please. I was just shocked for a moment.”

I let her lead me into a massive kitchen. “How do you know?”

She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and motioned for me to sit down.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m Carolyn, Alex’s mother. Now, how did I know what?”

I took a sip of the water and looked down at my belly. “How did you know I was here for Alex?”

“I have five sons, but I just knew that you were Alex’s.” She looked behind me and grinned. “There he is. Alex, you’ve got a special visitor.”

I’d already felt him in the room. It was like my body could sense his presence. The closer he got, the more my nerve endings tried to stand up taller to be closer to him. I slowly turned to face him and thanked god that I was sitting down. My entire body seemed to sigh and a tension that I hadn’t even realized was there left my body.

He was just as drop-dead handsome as the last time I’d seen him. His hair was longer and the shadow along his jaw had turned into a full beard, but he was still enough to make my body react instinctively.

I blew out a shaky breath. It wasn’t a fluke. He still affected me the same as before.

“Elizabeth.”

“Hi.” I clenched my water tighter and tried to remember how to breathe.

In the blink of an eye, he was across the kitchen, and had me in his arms. His hug was crushing, but I needed it, for some reason. I felt better than I had in months and, like some sort of magic, my queasy stomach settled down.

“Bailey, come on. I think we need to give your brother some privacy.”

“Are they going to do it? Mates are so gross with the sex stuff.”

Alex growled at his little sister from over my head. “Bailey.”

“Okay, we’re going. Come and find us when you’re done, Alex.” Carolyn sounded happier than earlier, singing her words instead of speaking them.

Alex leaned back and looked down at me. “Hi.”

I bit my lip. “Hi.”

He grinned. “You already said that.”

I felt his eyes dip lower and then felt his muscles stiffen as he breathed in a sharp, deep breath. I knew he was seeing my belly and I knew things weren’t going to be as nice as they’d just been. I pulled away and went back to the counter. “As you can probably see, I gained a little weight while I was away.”

He stuttered out nonsensical words and kept his eyes on my stomach.

“Bad joke, you’re right. I’m actually pregnant. I found out last month and I’ve been trying to think of a better way to tell you, but a singing telegram just didn’t feel right.” I continued babbling as he remained frozen. “Another bad joke. Okay. Well, he’s yours. I just… know. I’ve been to the doctor and he’s healthy. Bigger than normal babies his age, but healthy.”

“He?”

“The man speaks!” I laughed awkwardly and wrung my hands together. “I don’t know for sure yet, but I just have a feeling. I’m sorry to just burst back into your life like this, Alex, but I thought you might want to know.”

He shook his head.

My heart sank. I had envisioned a thousand different scenarios, and this was one of them, but I hadn’t been able to stop my hope from building. There had been something between us that night. There still was, if the way he grabbed me meant anything. Maybe I was mistaken, though.

“Okay. I’m sorry.” I turned to leave and tried to fight the tears back.

“Wait! Where are you going?” He rushed over to me and grabbed my arms. “I didn’t mean no. I’m just… shocked. I didn’t think I was ever going to see you again and then you’re not only here, but carrying my baby…”

I rested my hands on his chest and felt my body respond to his. “I can imagine how big of a shock this is. Why don’t you take some time to process it?”

He frowned down at me. “I don’t need time.”

“You… don’t?”

“Hell, no. He’s mine. My father made me the man I am today. There’s no way I’m leaving this little guy, or girl, without its daddy. Absolutely not.”

The intensity in his eyes hit me right in the chest and I had to look away from him. I wanted him to feel the same intense possession about me, but I knew that was impossible. We didn’t know each other well enough yet. Nothing was making sense with him standing so close. I suddenly felt the walls closing in around my. I needed some air, some space to figure things out.

“I think I need to rest. I’ve been feeling nauseous lately. Is there a cab I can call for a ride back to town?”

“A cab?”

I shifted from foot to foot, feeling a little more than antsy to get away. “I need some space.”

I spun around and rushed to the door. It swung open just as I reached for the doorknob and I charged past the man standing there. I just wanted to get away.

“Elizabeth!”

“Beth?”

I turned too quickly to the right and went down hard on my hands and knees. It knocked the air out of my lungs, but I still managed to croak out the one name I thought I’d never say again. “Sam?”

CHAPTER 12: Alex

My heart was racing in my chest. I’d been dreaming about seeing Elizabeth again since the moment she stepped foot on that bus. I’d been an idiot for letting her leave. I knew she was my mate, yet I didn’t fight for her because I was too busy panicking like a little pussy.

I’d managed to drink my way through enough whiskey to float a boat while she’d been away. I’d tried to find her, but I had nothing to go on besides her first name and that she lived in the DC area.

Then, she was there, standing in front of me in my mom’s kitchen, smelling like heaven. It’d taken me a few minutes to realize that she was softer and her smell had changed. She smelled like me. The little cub inside her smelled just like me.

I’d managed to fuck it up, though. I was still hungover and my head was throbbing, and I’d said the wrong thing. All I wanted to do was carry her back to my trailer and keep her by my side where I could watch over her and protect her and the baby. Well, I wanted to sink into her again and again while claiming her, too. I’d smelled her arousal in the air when I hugged her and I was seconds away from hauling her off like a caveman.

I chased her as she ran out of the house, and watched as one of the guys working on setting up the tents called her name. She twisted and then went down hard. My mate was hurt.

I ran to her side and sunk to my knees beside her. “You okay? Talk to me, sweetheart.”

The idiot who’d called her name came closer and I let out a vicious growl at him. He wasn’t getting any closer to Elizabeth. She was mine and I’d kill anyone fucker who tried to take her from me.

Elizabeth coughed and climbed back to her feet. I could smell her blood in the air and it made the animal in me a little wild. I was close to turning and letting my bear loose on everyone around us.

She rested her hands on my shoulders and looked down at me where I was kneeling. “Did you just growl at him?”

“Just letting him know to stay the fuck away.”

She tilted her head to the side. “You know he’s my ex?”

I turned my head to face the little fucker who’d hurt my mate. I stood up and towered over him, reveling in the stench of fear coming off of him. “You’re the fucking idiot who cheated on her?”

Elizabeth held my hand and tugged me towards her. “Come on. Just take me home.”

My bear stood up even taller. “Home? The trailer?”

She nodded. “Um… Yeah… yes. Just don’t do whatever it is you’re thinking of doing.”

The little shit came closer. “Beth, what are you doing back in Landing? How do you know this guy?”

She rubbed her stomach and looked every bit the mother bear that I’d pictured her being in my dreams. “It’s none of your business, Sam. Go away.”

His eyes trailed down to her stomach and I watched as he breathed in and scented me on her. “You’re pregnant with this fucking guy’s cub?”

I stepped closer to him and Elizabeth put herself between us. She looked up at me and rested both of her hands on my chest. “Take me home. Please, Alex. I hurt myself. I need to go to the trailer.”

Immediately, I calmed and lifted her into my arms. “We’re going to a doctor.”

“No, I just need some alcohol and a-”

“A doctor. After that, I’ll take you home.”

She grumbled, but let me carry her away. “I know I’m even heavier now. You can put me down, Alex. I can walk.”

I opened my truck door and placed her inside gently. I lingered next to her face, breathing in her scent. My bear, who’d been pissed and mopey for months, decided to become alert again and demanding at that moment. He demanded I mark her and refuse her if she ever said she wanted to leave again. He didn’t understand that a human female wouldn’t like that.

“You’re not heavy. You’re perfect and pregnant with my baby. Perfect.”

She sucked in a deep breath and chewed on her bottom lip.

“I missed you. I looked for you.”

Elizabeth’s eyes went wide. “You did? Why?”

I tucked her hair behind her ears and cupped her face. “Because I wanted you here with me.”

“Oh.” She sounded shocked.

That’s okay. I planned to show her just how much I wanted her by my side. “Let’s get you to the doctor and then we’ll talk tonight.”

CHAPTER 13: Elizabeth

After the doctor visit, where I was checked out and found to be in perfect health other than the newly-shredded skin on my knees, Alex drove me to his trailer and insisted on carrying me inside. Once he’d gotten me settled on his couch with a blanket and a glass of water, he sat beside me.

“Do you need anything else?”

I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. “No. I’m perfectly fine. I don’t need this blanket, either. It’s about a thousand degrees outside, Alex.”

He pushed it back at me when I pushed it off. “Maybe the baby is cold.”

I stared at him with a blank face. “You’re kidding.”

Alex sat back on the couch and shook his head. “What? It could happen, right?”

I sighed. “I’m having a baby with someone who thinks my baby might be cold inside of my body.”

He reached over and grabbed me lovingly, dragging me against his side. “Our baby.”

I looked up at him, trying to contain my excitement. The way he was talking, it sounded like he wanted to be with me. My head spun from the craziness of it, but it was what I wanted too, more than anything. I’d come back here prepared for any scenario, but hoping that he would want some sort of relationship with me.

“This feels insane, Alex. What is this thing between us?”

“I could tell you, but you’d probably tell me that I’d lost my mind.”

I stretched out and rested my head against his chest. “I just quit my job for the second time and told my landlord that I would let him know whether or not I’d be needing the apartment past this month. I got a flight across the country and then a bus to the most stand-offish town ever, where people don’t seem to like me and won’t look me in the eye on the off chance that you might possibly want to do this parent thing with me. Try me.”

Laughter rumbled deep in his chest. “We’re meant to be together. You were made for me.”

My heart raced against my rib cage. “You believe that?”

He caught my chin with his finger and turned my face so I was staring at him. “It’s true. I believe it with my whole heart. That’s just the way things work in my family, Elizabeth. My Mom and Dad were the same way. They were meant for each other like you and I are meant for each other.”

I could feel his sincerity and was overwhelmed with emotion. I turned my head and buried my face in his chest to muffle my gentle sobs.

“What’s wrong, Elizabeth?”

I sagged against him. “Besides the fact that I’m hormonal, that was the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He just held me tighter and pressed his lips to my forehead. “Thank you for coming home to me, little one.”

CHAPTER 14: Elizabeth

The next morning, I woke up early and started my day by vomiting in Alex’s bathroom sink while he was peeing. Thankfully, I hadn’t eaten much the night before. I dry heaved into the sink long after everything was out of my stomach.

Alex flushed the toilet and came up behind me and rubbed my back. “Are you okay, baby?”

I shook his hands off of my back and turned the faucet on to rinse everything away. “You just peed and then rubbed all over me.”

“Sorry.” After a second, he continued on. “Are these the pregnancy hormones talking?”

I stood up straight and glared at him through the mirror. “Don’t ever ask me that again.”

“Right. Got it.” He washed his hands and then dried them on his shirt before wrapping his arms around me. “Is this okay?”

All of my anger faded. I sagged against his chest and nodded. “I’m sorry. I just slept terribly and this little guy isn’t happy if he isn’t causing me some trouble.”

“Let me stay with you tonight.”

He sincerely wanted to stay with me. I felt his sincerity poking against my back.

We’d spent the afternoon and night talking and getting to know each other. We’d gone over the basic things, anyway. I knew his favorite color was brown and was seriously worried about him because of it. I knew he loved sweets and kept a bag of skittles in his truck at all times. I knew that he was the youngest out of four brothers, but solidly older than his little sister, Bailey.

Despite knowing all of the things that he was able to verbalize to me, the good and the bad, I hadn’t felt like I knew him well enough to start sleeping with him. It seemed silly and I knew that Alex wasn’t in love with the idea of sleeping apart, but I suppose I thought it would make me feel a little more in control of this crazy whirlwind of a situation. Instead, I’d tossed and turned the whole night. I could smell him all around me in his bed, and being able to smell him but not having him next to me to touch and hold me kept me in a state of squirming discomfort. My body wanted him and I couldn’t fight it.

“Okay.”

His hands moved up my stomach, stroking underneath the T-shirt I wore, until the tips of his fingers teased my breasts. His dick pressed into my back even harder and I felt myself go from dry to puddling-my-panties in seconds. He cupped my breasts in his big hands and ran his thumbs over my sensitive nipples, causing me to moan and arch into him. “Pregnancy looks fucking amazing on you, Elizabeth.”

I opened my eyes and watched through the mirror as he pulled my shirt off and raked his eyes over my naked body. I flushed and wanted to look away, but I made myself watch. My body had grown and changed in those three months. My stomach was fuller and protruding, as were my breasts. They’d already grown almost a cup size and it was a cup size that Alex was enjoying.

The view in the mirror of his tanned hands holding my pale breasts was sexy as hell. He leaned down and ran his mouth against the line of my neck. “I want you to be mine.”

I tugged at his hair. “Just yours?”

His teeth settled against my neck and slowly he added more and more pressure until there was a slight pain, but even more pleasure coursing through my body. His eyes met mine and flashed golden.

I gasped and spun around to face him. “What just happened?”

His chest heaved and he turned and left the bathroom. “Nothing. I’m going to get dressed. I have to help Mom finish up with the rest of the BBQ.”

I watched as he left and then turned back to the mirror. My mind was racing because I was one hundred percent sure I’d watched his eyes change colors. They’d not only changed colors, but they—glowed. I’d never seen anything like it. “Alex?”

He moved back into the bathroom doorway and crossed his arms over his massive chest. “Yeah?”

“I want to be yours. No secrets, though. Okay?”

“Of course.”

Something was off. I could tell he was hiding something from me. I don’t know how I knew it, but I did. This connection I felt with Alex wasn’t normal. It hadn’t been normal from the start. And by ‘start’ I meant the moment he and I made eye contact at the stadium during that rodeo. Now, I felt as though I was already wildly in love with him and I’d spent less than forty-eight hours with the man. When he spoke of us being meant for each other, I believed him, no matter how irrational my brain told me it was. Because I felt it too.

I’d been drawn back to Landing, Wyoming. Despite not enjoying it the first time around, I’d been drawn back in like an addict. Everything in me had itched ached to be back, with no relief until the bus crossed the city limits sign. I felt magnetically pulled to Alex, and I couldn’t make sense of it. I wasn’t even sure I needed to.

CHAPTER 15: Alex

Elizabeth sat between my Mom and Bailey, listening to them go on and on about babies in Landing. What they were saying was true. Babies in Landing came sooner than normal babies. They were bigger and tougher than normal babies, and would be changing into a goddamn bear within a few months of being born. That last part was something I was going to have to talk to Elizabeth about myself before it happened, because Mom and Bailey left that out.

I had no idea how I was going to explain any of that. She’d almost seen the bear in me come out to play. I’d nearly marked her this morning in the bathroom. I’d been seconds from sinking my teeth into her delicious tasting skin and leaving a claiming mark for the rest of the world to see. She’d panicked when she saw my eyes, though. There was no way she wouldn’t panic when I told her about the rest of it.

My heart beat in a rapid frenzy in my chest at the mere thought of her running away from me again when she found out. I already loved her. Talking to her, listening to her speak, hearing her soft whimpers when I touched her, I couldn’t get enough. My heart was hers.

I kept an eye on her at all times, making sure no one got too close. I knew she smelled like me and carried my scent at a basic level because of our little cub in her belly, but any bear within twenty miles would be able to smell the sweet honey scent she put off. They’d be able to smell her arousal, too. Just like I could every single time she looked at me.

“You really went and did it, huh?” My oldest brother, Matt, said as he stopped beside me.

I was leaning against a shade tree, enjoying watching instead of participating in the festivities. I sent a cross look at him and straightened. “Don’t start.”

I knew why he was pissed. Matt, as the oldest, always assumed that he would inherit control of the ranch when Dad passed. But, Dad had thrown us all a curve ball. Dad had been gone for six months now, and his will had surprised the hell out of us. Apparently, he’d been aware how much his oldest sons cared about money. Hell, Matt and Lucas had been born with dollar signs in their eyes. I guess Dad wanted them to care about something other than financial portfolios because when it was read, dear old Dad left a stipulation in his will that the ranch would go to the first son to produce an offspring.

I’d discovered that little bit of information the month after Elizabeth left. At the time, I’d thought it was hilarious. I’d watched my brother Matt’s face turn purple with rage when we’d found out. Never in a million years would I have thought that the first to have a kid would be me. Elizabeth leaving had written off any chance of that happening—or so I’d thought. I knew that without her, I’d never want to have cubs. Hell, I hadn’t even looked at another woman since I’d met Elizabeth.

Not inheriting the ranch was of no consequence to me. I’d never been big on responsibility anyway. But, after seeing her show back up with my cub growing in her belly, something inside me clicked. It was as though a fire had suddenly been lit deep within. I had a family to provide for.

My brothers were furious. Matt and Luke had been too busy looking for loop holes in Dad’s will to actually go out and try to find a mate. It served them right, groveling over an inheritance with our dad’s body still warm.

Matt shoved against me with his shoulder as he stormed off in the direction of the house. He cast a glare at Elizabeth that had me growling at his back.

I looked at Elizabeth sitting with my family. They would accept her, eventually. Humans always made bears uncomfortable at first, because we couldn’t be ourselves, but knowing she was carrying my baby bear would warm them to her. Then, when I finally claimed her as my own, she’d be one of the family and they’d treat her as such.

Elizabeth looked up at me with a grin on her face and waved. My dick swelled in my jeans and I had to shift myself to remain semi-comfortable. She glanced at my pants and then giggled before turning back to her conversation.

There was no way I was sleeping apart from her tonight. I couldn’t, even if I wanted to. I needed to be closer to her.

Luke, my third oldest brother angled up to me, his eyes on Elizabeth. “As the heir of this here ranch, you have a job to do, little brother. Apparently there’s a gap in the fence up the hill. Someone called and said one of the cows got out.”

“Keep your eyes to yourself, Lucas.”

He shrugged. “Just trying to understand what you see in her. She’s kind of fat.”

I’d punched him before I even realized what I was doing. Lucas reeled back and tripped over a tree root that stuck out of the ground. “Fuck off.”

I headed in Elizabeth’s direction. She was standing, watching me wide-eyed with her hand resting across her stomach. I knelt in front of her so I could press my lips to her belly. “I have to go up and see about an escaped cow. Will you be okay here for a couple of hours? I’ll come back just as soon as I can.”

She ran her fingers through my hair and nodded. “Of course. You don’t need company, though?”

I grazed her breasts on my way up, just to tease her, and growled when I heard her intake of breath. I wanted to throw her on top of one of the picnic tables and take her then and there. “I wish I could justify making you trek up the side of a mountain, but I can’t. You can keep me company later tonight, though.”

Her grin said she’d be glad to. “Be careful.”

I kissed her on the forehead and then hurried off towards my truck.

CHAPTER 16: Elizabeth

The sun was high in the sky and the BBQ was well underway when things went a little haywire. Carolyn and Bailey made me feel more than welcome. They treated me so well that I was starting to feel a little guilty for taking up all of their time. When Carolyn had to go and check on stuff in the kitchen, and Bailey went to greet some school friends just arriving, I made my way to the drinks table and grabbed a bottle of water.

I’d been introduced to Alex’s brothers very briefly when we’d arrived. They were distant and cold, like the rest of the town, without one ounce of the warmth that Carolyn, Bailey, and Alex possessed. When I spotted the oldest one, Matt, approaching, I quickly turned and attempted to get away.

As luck would have it, he was just as freakishly tall as Alex and easily caught up to me. He lightly grasped my arm and pulled me to a stop. “Where are you off to, Beth?”

I frowned. Sam had been the only person ever to call me Beth and I hated it.

“Elizabeth. And I was going to see if your mom needs any help in the kitchen.”

“She doesn’t. I was hoping to catch you without my brother hovering over you like a mother hen.”

A pit formed in my stomach and I wanted to wretch, but I tried to contain it. “Why?”

He frowned. “Well, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay with the situation you’re in. It’s not every day that a woman agrees to become a mother just to help a guy gain control of his dead father’s ranch.”

I balled my hands into fists and looked around. “What are you talking about?”

He acted like he was shocked. “You don’t know?! Oh, no. This is crazy. Alex didn’t tell you? Huh, and I was sure you were in on it with him…”

I felt the urge to punch him in the face, but contained it.

“Spit it out.”

“Our Dad wrote it into his will that the first son to produce and heir gets the entire ranch. You’re a little money pot, Beth. You and that little cub you’re carrying. Yep, you showing up on his doorstep was akin to having a great big pile of cash plopped down right at his feet. It’s no wonder he’s been giving you sweet looks, you’re worth a fortune to him.”

I didn’t buy into it for a second. I’d talked a little bit to Carolyn about her husband. She told me that when it’s right, it’s right. She’d been drawn to her husband the same way that that I was drawn to Alex. Unexplainably. Inexplicably. Unrelentingly. As crazy as it was that I’d stumbled upon Alex, it was right. She’d also told me how my leaving five months ago had affected him. She was certain that Alex felt as strongly about me as I did about him.

“Does your ass get jealous of the shit that comes out of your mouth? If you’re going to bully someone, I suggest you don’t try to pull it on a girl who grew up in the streets of DC. Now, I’m going to excuse myself. Good luck with everything.”

I walked away from him and headed in the direction that I’d seen Alex go. We needed to talk.

It’d been a while since he’d left and I figured he’d be on his way back before too long. I’d just meet him on the road.

I hiked up the road and found Alex’s truck parked off to the side. His clothes were thrown on the hood of the truck and my heart began racing in my chest. Why are his clothes off? What could he be doing that required him to take all of his clothes off? I suddenly had flashbacks of seeing Sam bopping the read-head in the bed of his truck. My stomach sunk to my knees.

With images dancing in my head of Alex having sex out there with some floozy up against a tree, I let my pregnancy hormones drive me. I crept through the woods, a small trail of tears streaming down my face—angry, scared, hurt tears. I’d been so sure of our connection just minutes before, and there I was, creeping through the woods in an effort to catch him with his pants down. Off. His pants were already off. I’d catch that bastard in the act.

I heard movement up ahead and stepped behind a big tree. I knew I looked crazy and I felt even crazier, but something wasn’t right.

After a few seconds, I peeked my head around the tree and let out a blood-curdling scream. Standing less than six feet from me was the biggest bear I’d ever seen. The only bear I’d ever seen, face to face anyway.

It just stood staring at me. There was something about its face that made it look annoyed, but that had to be more of my hysteria. I was going to die, and I blamed Alex’s. If he’d only kept his pants on, things would’ve turned out differently.

Trembling, I made a move to step backwards. The bear grunted at me and reached its paw out. I suddenly feared, not for myself, but for my unborn baby. I snapped. I reached out and slapped its paw away. “You are not eating me. Not today. I have a baby in here and I will beat your furry ass to keep him safe if I have to.”

It backed up a step hoping to slowly make my getaway, but suddenly, the bear was gone, and Alex appeared in its spot, naked and grinning. “You’d beat up a grizzly bear for our cub?”

CHAPTER 17: Elizabeth

I blinked a few times. Was I still alive? Oh, no, was I hallucinating?

“Wha… what just happened?”

Alex looked sheepish. He ran a hand through his hair and blew out a long, slow breath. “No more secrets.”

I leaned against the tree. My mind was slowly trying to make sense of what I’d just seen. If I didn’t know any better, I would have sworn that there was a bear in front of me who had just… become Alex.

One second, bear. Next second, Alex.

“I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I didn’t want you to find out like this. My bear just smelled you and came towards you. He smelled you sad and angry and came running.”

“Your…bear.” Funny thing is, I knew what he meant. He didn’t mean it as in, the bear that he keeps around these woods as a pet. No, he meant it as in, the bear that he is.

I shook my head to clear it and then stared deeply into his golden brown eyes. Alex, the guy that I’d somehow fallen in love with in a matter of hours. Alex, the bear-man. Man-bear? Something in my brain snapped back into place and I reached out and smacked him.

“I thought you were cheating on me! I saw your clothes and your truck and thought I was going to find you out here with another woman!”

He raised an eyebrow. “I just revealed that I’m a bear shifter and you’re pissed because you thought I was cheating?”

“You… you scared the hell out of me. I just verbally whipped your brother for even suggesting you didn’t care about me, and then I come out here and thought I’d find you… the way I did Sam. I was scared. Terrified.”

“Which one?”

“Huh?”

“You had words with my brother? Which one?”

“Matt. He’s an ass.”

“Did he touch you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Does it matter? Can we get back to the issue at hand? What the hell is a bear shifter? Am I dead? I feel like this whole thing is surreal.”

Alex caught my shoulders and pulled me against his naked body. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. “I’m a bear shifter. And no, you’re not dead. Feel my heartbeat?”

I pressed my ear to his chest and listened to it racing. “Why is it going so fast?”

“Because I’m afraid you’re going to run from me again.”

I leaned away from him and shook my head. “I’m still here.”

“I’m a shifter. I can turn into a bear…”

It actually all made sense. As much something like this could make sense. I’d seen his eyes take on an inhuman glow multiple times. I knew there had to be something special about him that would explain that. I just never in my wildest dreams could have imagined it would be—this. I’d watched True Blood like half of the rest of the country. I knew what shifters were. I just didn’t know they actually existed. Like in real life. “Do it again.”

He moved away from me and in a blur of movement, his body contorted and he was a bear again. He huffed and went down on all fours so he was closer to my height. He was huge. Ginormous.

I reached out and slowly rested my hand on his head.

“Holy shit.”

He made a sound that was so similar to laughter that I couldn’t help but laugh myself. I stroked his head and neck, feeling the coarse hair beneath my fingertips. This was either real or it was hands down the most vivid dream I’d ever had.

“This is amazing, Alex. Can you understand me?”

He huffed again and nuzzled his face against me. A small flutter in my stomach surprised me and I looked down at it with shock on my face.

Alex was instantly standing next to me again. “What’s wrong?”

“He just kicked, I think. It’s early, though. When you put your face against my belly, he moved.” I laughed. “Is he going to come out a bear?”

He looked appalled. “Of course, not!”

I laughed even harder. It was all so crazy. “I’m kidding, Alex. He will be like you, though, right?”

He nodded and watched me curiously. “He will. And one day he will feel the same pull towards someone as I feel towards you. My whole family is like this. I’ll explain everything better later.”

I nodded. “Yeah, you will.”

“How are you taking this so well?”

“I don’t know. I think all of this has just been crazy enough that I’m more stunned than anything. Maybe I’ll freak out later. Maybe I won’t. How do people normally take this news?”

He touched my cheek. “People don’t normally find out. That’s why the town was so closed up when you got here. It’s a big secret to keep.”

I pouted. “But they were nice to Sam.”

At the mention of Sam’s name, Alex growled and pulled me into his chest. “Mine.”

I nipped at his chest. “Were you trying to eat me earlier? Is that a thing?”

His laughter rang out loud and clear through the forest.

“No. We do not eat people. There is something I wanted to explain to you, though. About mates.”

“Mates? Bailey used that word. Are we mates?”

“Yes. Mates are just like they sound. Soulmates. You were meant for me and I was meant for you. I could feel it the very first time I laid eyes on you at the rodeo. I knew you were mine.”

I kissed him then, desperate to feel something solid. “What does it mean?”

He kissed me back. “It means that we’re going to be together for a long time. It means that I love you, and that my heart belongs to you.”

I grinned up at him. “This is all so insane and I’m sure you’ll have to explain it all a million times to me later, but right now, I just want to be close to you. As close as I can get.”

He ripped the straps of my dress and pushed it off my shoulders. With a predatory look on his face, he pushed me against the tree. “As close as possible?”

My body reacted instantly, the same way it had this morning and three months ago. Maybe it was the mate thingy, or maybe it was just how hot Alex was. I couldn’t be sure, but either way, I wanted him. “What did you want to explain to me about mates? I have about two more minutes of listening before I’m tackling you and having my way with you.”

He pushed my dress up over my belly and hips, over my head, and let it fall to the ground. His fingers cupped my sex and his mouth landed on my neck. “This. Mates claim each other. I wasn’t trying to eat you earlier. I was fighting the instinct to claim you as mine. Everything in me is screaming at me to mark you so no one else ever thinks they can touch you again.”

His lips felt amazing against my skin and I was ready to agree to anything. “Is it a hickey?”

He flicked his tongue over the same spot. “No. It’s a bite. It’s a bond between us.”

“Will it hurt?”

“Probably. It’ll be worth it, though.”

I rocked my hips against his hand, trying to get him to rub my clit. “Do you still want to?”

He scraped his teeth there and made me gasp with pleasure. “Fuck, yes. I’ve wanted to mark you as mine since that first night. It took everything in me not to do it.”

I tilted my head farther to the side. “I want you to mark me. I want to be yours. Do I mark you?”

He yanked my panties down and easily lifted me until my core hovered over his dick. “When I mark you, Elizabeth, everyone will know that I belong to you. You own my heart, little one.”

I cried out as he dropped me slowly onto his shaft and pinned me against the tree. I dug my nails into his shoulders and held on. I wanted him more than anything. Nothing else mattered.

Alex drove into me again and again, filling my body until I thought I couldn’t take anymore. “I’ve missed you so much. Never leave me again.”

“My bear, make me yours.”

My body was close already. Alex seemed like he was right there with me. His thrusts were erratic and his grip on my thighs punishing. I tilted my head to the side, inviting him to claim me. I wanted to be tied to him forever.

Alex let out a roar louder than anything I’d ever heard and then sank his teeth into my neck. Stinging pain lasted for only a second before blinding pleasure filled me and I tumbled into the strongest orgasm of my life. I ripped my nails across his back as the pleasure shook me. Alex jerked into me once more before I felt his seed filling me.

I felt him licking my neck but my head was so light that it just rolled back. My body felt like all my bones had been removed. I slumped against the tree behind me and mumbled his name.

Alex held me tightly in his arms and lowered us both to the ground. He laid me on his chest and held me tight. “It’s okay, little one.”

I lost track of how much time we’d been there, recovering, but the night had fallen without my noticing. I idly played with Alex’s hair and pressed kisses against his chest.

“How do you feel?”

I lifted my tired head to stare at him and gave him a satisfied grin. “Like I should’ve stayed here five months ago and kept doing that.”

He grunted. “I should’ve tied you up and made you stay.”

I flicked my tongue over his nipple. “You should’ve, mate.”

Alex hardened under me and shifted us so that I was straddling him. “Are you too tired?”

I grabbed him and then lowered myself onto him, filling myself with my mate. “Never.”

He reached up and wrapped his hands over my breasts. “I love you like this. Ride me, Elizabeth.”

Who was I to deny my mate? I leaned over him and kissed him long and hard. “I love you, bear.”

“Always.”

THE END

SCREWED

STORY DESCRIPTION

I hate Jett Lang.

I’ve hated him for six years- ever since college. I was a shy, awkward freshman and he was a cocky, arrogant football star.

A.K.A. the a-hole who made my college days a living hell.

It figures he would be the one to come to my rescue

Now he’s a better-paid, cocky, arrogant NFL star.

Still steaming hot, panty-meltingly gorgeous. Still an a-hole.

And, here he is in front of me with a proposition that I’m in no position to refuse.

Damn him.

***************

Claire Donnelly.

Sweet, mousy little Claire Donnelly.

My bad boy rep is hurting my career and Claire is just the sweet thing that can help me change that.

Besides, she makes my d*ck harder than any woman I’ve ever known.

I will do anything to get me a piece of Claire.

The one thing I didn’t expect was to fall head over heels in love with her.

Chapter 1 CLAIRE

Another night, another bar. Jesus Christ.

I blow my hair out of my eyes, and wrap both arms around my drunk boyfriend. The idiot is, as usual, totally shitfaced, which means I got a call at home from the bartender about 10 minutes ago hollering about Aaron picking fights with some poor college freshman over a game of darts, and how I needed to come pick him up.

“Get that asshole under control, Claire.” the bartender barks at me as I drag Aaron, still screaming, out of the bar.

Yeah, I want to shout back, I’ll get right on that.

No one can get Aaron under control when he’s been drinking, which is pretty much all the time anymore. Tonight I have no doubt I’ll be repaid for the kindness of keeping him from pounding those scared kids into the floor with a lovely black eye that everyone at work will avoid asking me about.

My co-workers have already heard all the stupid, repetitive lies; they aren’t interested in hearing them again.

“Aaron, please try to calm down,” I try to talk comfortingly. I’m too exhausted to be scared of what I know is coming when we get home. I never thought I’d feel this exhausted at the age of 24.

“Those little fucks cheated me out of my money!” Aaron bellows, still scrambling to get around me and back into the bar. “They fucking hustled me!”

I lean into his body trying to nonchalantly block him with mine. The car is in sight. “I know, baby,” I lie, placating him, “but you can’t just go after them. The bartender said we have to leave.”

“I can’t?!” Aaron whips around to face me, his eyes wild and bloodshot.

Oh crap! I said the wrong thing.

“Did you just tell me what I can’t do, you little cunt?”

Oh, God. I hoped he would have at least waited until we were in the car. “No, baby, that’s not…”

“Not what? Not what?” He grabs my hair and starts yanking me around by it, bringing me to my knees. “Not you trying to fucking control me? You little lying bitch, that’s all you ever do. You just want to fucking control me.”

“No, I swear,” I can feel eyes on us from all over the parking lot. No one will intervene. No one will try to stop him - they never do. Most will look away or leave. Some will watch in disgust. Those who watch will be more disgusted by me taking a beating than by him giving me one. I will just have to endure it, as always.

“I’m not trying to control you. You’re in charge, okay, baby? You’re the boss. Please, let’s just go home, I’ll give you a massage and you can relax -”

My words are cut short by a slamming punch to my jaw. I’m sent reeling backwards, knocked flat on the ground. I lie sprawled out on the pavement with Aaron ranting and screaming above me, but I’m not listening. I want to fucking kill him, the tears in my eyes are from humiliation rather than pain, although my jaw throbs. But I know my 5’2” frame springing up and throwing lame punches at him won’t diffuse the situation, it will make it worse for me.

Just keep breathing, I remind myself, trying to swallow the fear that crawls up my throat like bile. I’ve been through this before, and I will make it through this time.

Just keep breathing, stay still, don’t fight back, don’t talk. Don’t make this last longer than it has to. You’ll get past this. I wince when I feel his kicks on my back, legs, and stomach, but I just curl into a ball with my arms over my face.

$623.52.

As the kicks continue, sharp painful blows with his boot, I just keep reminding myself of the $623.52 that I have stashed under the false bottom of my sock drawer. Soon I’ll have enough to get away from this psycho-asshole, to go somewhere else, start a new life, become a new person.

I just need a little more money.

I am suddenly aware of another male voice, and the kicks abruptly cease. I peek out from beneath my arms. A heavily-muscled man with dark blonde hair has Aaron by the shirt collar. He delivers a vicious punch to Aaron’s stomach.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” the guy bellows, his voice is deep and smooth but I detect an underlying tremor of rage. “Think you’re such a big man, beating up on a little woman, you piece of shit? That make you feel strong?” The larger man throws Aaron against the hood of my car. “Come on, man, show me how tough you are now!”

Aaron doubles over, coughing, and I almost feel like laughing. Aaron is an intimidating presence, but this guy is huge. His back is to me but from the way it looks, he is solid muscle. I don’t think of myself as a particularly vengeful person, but knowing Aaron will have bruises tomorrow too feels unbelievably satisfying. Unfortunately, it will also mean he’ll become more enraged, and more rage means more taking his anger out on me.

With Aaron reduced to a groaning pile on the gravel parking lot, the big guy turns and reaches out a hand to help me up.

“Hey, lady, are you oka- ”  He freezes mid-sentence, and when our eyes meet, I know why.

Jett Lang.

Jett fucking Lang… Lord, this can’t be happening to me!

“Claire?... Claire Donnelly?... Is that you?” he asks.

I groan. Of course, the one guy who so honorably comes to my rescue has to be Jett Lang, who used to be the biggest fucking douchebag college football player, and is now the more famous, better-paid fucking douchebag NFL player. Also known as the asshole who made my college days a living hell.

When will I catch a break?

“Yes, it’s me,” Using the hand he offers, I pull myself to my feet, and dust off my jeans. “Hey, Jett.”

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it’s you.” He motions with his thumb at my mess of a boyfriend. “Who the fuck is that guy?”

“My boyfriend,” I sigh. “And if you’re done playing white knight, I have to get him home. Thanks, though.”

“What?... Oh, hell no. No, no, no. Don’t you tell me you’re driving him home?”  Jett was never the sharpest tool in the shed.

“Well, we do live together and I do have to deal with him sooner or later.”

Jett is standing in front of me shaking his head. His eyes scan my body from head to toes, and I feel myself shrink. Then, he grabs my arm and starts pulling me towards a nearby Lexus.

“That dick can take a cab.”

“Wha-- Were are we going? Where are you taking me?”

“We’re getting dinner.”

“Says who?” I snap. I realize the guy just saved me from getting a worse beat-down, but I’ve had about all the arrogant control freaks I can stand tonight, thank you very much.

“Says me,” he snaps back, and then his voice softens, “Think about it - do you really want to deal with that idiot right now?”

I don’t answer, but when he turns and continues toward the Lexus, I follow, mostly because my jaw stings like a mother, my body aches, I’m exhausted, and he’s right; I need to regroup for a few before dealing with Aaron again.

We don’t speak the whole way there. Jett looks over at me a couple times, but doesn’t say anything, and I pretend to be interested in what’s outside of the car window.

I’m grateful when Jett pulls into a small hole-in-the-wall diner in the middle of nowhere. In college, Jett craved the limelight, loved to make himself look good. Always the arrogant center of attention. Now that he is one of the biggest players in the NFL, I half-expected him to take me to some five-star bistro to show me off as his new charity case. That would totally be something he’d do.

It’s not until after a waitress with bright orange hair wearing a polyester uniform and orthopedic shoes takes our burger orders and saunters away that Jett breaks the silence between us.

“So, that asshat was your boyfriend?”

“Yep.”

“But, why?”

Oh, here it comes. I roll my eyes.

“Well, Jett, when he first asked me out, he told me he planned to beat the crap out of me on a regular basis, and I said ‘well, you sound like my kinda guy,’ so now here we are three years later, just as planned.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Jett mumbles. He leans forward and I catch a whiff of his cologne, the same kind he wore in college. For a moment, I’m back in the tutoring center explaining physics to Jett while he plays with his pencil and stares into space. He hasn’t even changed cologne. What a narcissist.

“I’m not trying to sound like a dick,” Jett continues, “I’m just confused.”

“You? Confused? What a surprise.” I know I’m being a grade A bitch, and maybe he doesn’t deserve it. He did just come to my aid back in the parking lot, something none of the other patrons standing around were willing to do. I gaze over at his tousled, dirty-blonde hair, straight nose, chiseled jawline. Still hot as hell, maybe even hotter. Besides, people can change. Maybe Jett deserves a chance to be absolved of past deeds and given a fresh start. I ponder this a second.

Nope, still hate him.

He ignores my comment. “I just don’t understand why you’re still with that guy. I know we didn’t know each other all that well in college, but I knew you well enough to know that you’re really smart, and you’re pretty talented. You could do a helluva lot better than that asscrack. What makes you stay with him?”

I take a sip of my water. I haven’t heard that question since I had friends, something that Aaron ensured ended completely at least a year and a half ago, back when he’d tried to convinced me I didn’t need anyone but him. I never agreed with him, I just got tired of the hassles and arguments.

“A lot of reasons,” I finally say. “At first it was because I hoped he’d change, and I still loved him. Now… well, I’m trying to leave now, but it’s a lot harder than people think.”

“How?” In Jett’s eyes, I see a genuine question. He isn’t being sarcastic or condescending, he really seems to want to know.

“Well, first, I need money. I’ve started salting away a little here and there without him noticing, but he controls our bank account and without money, there’s not much I can do. Right now I have a little over $600 in my sock drawer.” I take another sip of water, trying to figure out how to phrase the next part. “Plus, it’s not like he’s just going to let me go, just let me walk out.  With someone like him, it’s not over just because I say it’s over. He’ll come after me, try to find me and probably keep trying to hurt me, even after I’m gone…” my voice trails off.

Jett just sits there silently watching me. I expect him to say something but he appears lost in thought. The silence kind of makes me nervous, so I continue, “I need enough money to completely disappear, and that’s hard to do since all of my paychecks are direct-deposited into our joint account.”

Again silence.

“Are you gonna say something?” I finally ask.

“I could give you some money.”

That was not what I expected him to say. At all.

“No,” I say flatly. “I don’t want your charity.”

A wicked smirk crosses his face. “It wouldn’t be charity,” he leans forward, his elbows resting on the formica tabletop. “I’d need you to do something for me, too.”

Oh, here we go. Of course.

“I am NOT going to sleep with you for money,” I snap, sitting up straight and glaring at him, as if drawing myself up to my full, miniscule height will intimidate him. “I do have some self-respect left, you know.”

He tilts his head back and laughs as though I’ve just said the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “God, relax, would you? You’re always so uptight. It has nothing to do with sex.” He pauses, and then his gaze sweeps over me. “Unless you want it to.”

“I don’t.” I cross my arms in front of my chest. “What would I need to do?”

“Marry me.”

Chapter 2 JETT

“I’m not the marrying type,” I tell my agent.

“Yeah, I know,” Larry says, “That’s the problem.”

I almost feel bad for Larry. He is kind of a nag, but he isn’t totally wrong. Even I know my less than tarnish-free image isn’t working really well for me anymore. Larry usually has to take the heat for letting me “get away” with my antics. He’s only thirty-eight, but in the six years I’ve been playing football, he’s already gone almost entirely gray.

“Being your agent is like being the president,” he once told me after picking me up from a club at five in the morning. “It ages you twenty years.” It’s starting to look like he’s right.

“I don’t see the point,” I argue anyway. “So what if I get married? It’s not like it’s gonna change anything about me.”

“You’re not the thing that needs to change,” he explains. “Your image is. Lately, everything you touch turns to shit. It doesn’t matter how great you are at throwing a ball if everyone thinks you’re a total dick.”

“But I am a total dick,” I joke.

Larry is entirely straight-faced. “I know,” he says. “Trust me, if the public knows that, you’re going to lose your job. The team doesn’t want someone everybody hates on the payroll. It’s bad for ticket sales. Plus, you’re losing endorsements left and right, and I don’t think I have to tell you how bad that is for your bank account.”

I shrug as though I don’t care, but I know he’s right. At first, my behavior just added to my image. I was the “bad boy” of football, something that a lot of men found exhilarating; they liked to live vicariously through me. And the women, day-um, I couldn’t keep the women away. Over time, though, fans seemed to enjoy it less and less. My sponsorships are starting to fall away like poor Larry’s hair, and my coach is starting to lose patience with me.  I can hear his words in my head. “Your girlfriends aren’t doing anyone any good, and it looks like you’re not helping them much either.”

They aren’t my girlfriends, but it is true that neither of us are benefitting a whole lot from our exchanges. The chicks are hot, and they are great lays - don’t get me wrong about that - but they are also complete disasters. There’s Delilah Rose, the porn star best known for flashing the cameras when exiting high-end night clubs. Then there’s a lunatic-turned-model, Amber Ferndale, who overdosed on pain pills three times in as many months and showed up at my house naked, crying and asking why we weren’t married yet. The list goes on and gets worse as it does.

“So what do you want me to do?” I ask. “Find some mousy little kindergarten teacher and propose to her on the spot? No one will buy that.”

“Well we can’t go that far, obviously. But we need to find someone. Someone pretty and wholesome, who looks good on your arm but can still keep her panties on for more than an hour. We’ll say that you’ve been keeping your relationship quiet because you didn’t want to deal with the press.”

“I’m not sure about this,” I say.

“Well, I am,” Larry bristles. “Listen, Jett, I love you like a brother, but if you don’t start listening to me, we’re going to have to… go down a different path.”

I stare at him for a second. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’d seriously drop me?”

“You’re not giving me a choice, Jett!” Larry argues, running a hand through his hair. “Do you know how much time I sink into trying to make you look good and keep your career afloat? I can’t do it anymore! I missed my twins’ fifth birthday for you, and I still haven’t gone to a single one of my son’s little league games!”

I frown. “You have kids?”

“Oh my God.” He puts his head in his hands, looking totally defeated. “Listen to me for once, okay? This isn’t optional this time. Either you find somebody who’s willing to put up with you, or you and I are done. Understood?”

Two hours later, I see uptight little Claire Donnelly getting pounded into the pavement by her dickweed boyfriend.

I’m not thinking about Larry when it happens. I’m not even really thinking about Claire. I’m not exactly hero material, and not too bothered by other people’s problems as a general rule.

No, in that moment, I’m back in the shitty-ass singlewide I’d grown up in, huddled helplessly by the bedroom door with my two brothers, trying unsuccessfully to block out the sound of our drunken dirtbag of a father knocking the shit out of our mom, her sobs barely audible under his screaming.

The difference is that this time, I’m not helpless. There’s something I can do. So I do it.

It’s not until I’m sitting across from Claire in the diner, watching her sip daintily at her water and give me her speech about why she can’t leave, that I realize I can kill two birds with one stone.

Maybe it does pay to do a good deed once in a while.

Chapter 3 CLAIRE

“Okay, explain this to me again,” I say, munching on my fries and watching Jett inhale his burger, grease dribbling out the corner of this mouth. Disgusting. “Because from the way it sounds, you want me to marry you because you’re such a jerk that you can’t find a decent girl. Is that it?”

“Pretty much.”

“I’ve already got a jerk. Why would I want another one?”

Jett actually looks hurt for a second. “Because this jerk won’t beat the shit out of you,” his tone gets serious sounding and he sits his burger down. “Plus, this jerk has a bunch of money, a huge house, and a security team that will make sure the other jerk won’t dare to come near you.”

“I’m not completely destitute,” I tell him defensively. I hate that this is actually starting to sound like a viable option. “I don’t need you to support me. I have a pretty good job.”

“A job that gives you money you don’t have access to,” Jett clarifies. “And I’m not saying you need me to support you. I’m just saying that, if you agreed to marry me, you could basically have whatever you wanted as part of the deal. All you’d have to do was occasionally go to press events with me and come to some of my games. You like football, don’t you?”

“It’s okay, I guess.” Am I actually considering this?

“Well, as my wife, you’d get the best seats, completely free. You’d have money, clothes, jewelry, whatever the hell you want. And Aaron wouldn’t be able to get anywhere near you. Doesn’t that seem better than trying to scrape together enough money to support yourself before your boyfriend kills you?”

“Aaron wouldn’t kill me,” I say, but my heart lurches in my chest. I know it’s a possibility, I’ve known it for a while. I spend a lot of time in denial, but Jett is right. I can’t trust Aaron with anything at this point, and if this is the first and best chance I have to get away from the dickhead, I’d be a fool not to take it. Even if it means tying myself to another dickhead. At least he’s a total-gorgeous-hot-babe dickhead. And he won’t kill me.

“Please.” Jett grabs my hand, and I jump, startled. His hand is warm and calloused, but his touch is tender. “I need help, okay? I need help. And it seems like you could use some too.”

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and sigh. “Tell me what I’d have to do.”

Jett’s face lights up. He looks like a kid on Christmas morning. “It’s easy. I buy you a ring, we go down to Vegas to get a quickie wedding, we stay married for a year. You live with all the comforts and security that come with being my wife, and then we file for a divorce and you go on your merry way.”

“And what do I say when people ask me why we’re suddenly married?”

“I’m sure your friends and family will back you up if you explain things to them.”

I nibble on my fry, but it suddenly becomes tasteless. “I don’t really have any friends or family. I was talking about the press.”

“Press is easy. We tell them we were keeping our relationship quiet because you don’t like being in the spotlight, and when we get a divorce, we just cite ‘irreconcilable differences’ and ask them to ‘respect our privacy.’” Jett takes a small, careful bite of his burger, his eyes never leaving my face. “I thought you were pretty close with your mom in college. Wouldn’t she need to know about this?”

“We were very close.” My throat starts to constrict, and I try to breathe through it. Even after two years, it’s still hard to talk about. “She passed away from cancer right after I started dating Aaron.”

“Shit,” Jett murmurs.

“Yeah.” I push back the lock of hair that always seems to fall into my eyes. “I was living with her to take care of her, and when she died, I’d spent a lot of my savings on her medical bills. I ended up selling her place and moving in with Aaron. Which - well, you can see how that worked out for me.”

Jett shakes his head. “Sorry. That’s rough.” He fiddles with his fork. “My mom passed away just before college. That’s not an easy experience.”

“No,” I agree. “It’s definitely not.” I’m surprised. I didn’t know Jett’s lost his mom.

To be fair, I was never exactly bosom buddies with the guy. He was a senior when I was a freshman, and we were in entirely different majors, me in chemical engineering, him in exercise science, so we never had any classes together. We never would have met at all if I hadn’t been assigned to tutor him.

As I watch him scarf down the rest of his fries, I analyze the situation. He needs to look like a decent, relatable guy, so he chooses me, someone who seems desperate, and extra points for getting a girl who isn’t pretty enough to hang off his arm in any other situation. Me being dowdy with my waist-length, limp reddish brown hair, small breasts, and big hips, makes him look like more of a hero for deigning to choose me. Once people see us, they’ll be shocked. I can already hear it. “He must really love her. She must have a great personality.”

One year. I remind myself.

Back when I was a stick-thin freshman, he definitely didn’t have an interest in me. For me, the freshman fifteen was a total reversal; I didn’t gain 15 pounds, I lost it. I was so stressed and poor that a bowl of ramen with some frozen veggies was all I ate in a day. When I was saddled with Jett as my “project” in the tutoring center, he took a long, intense look up and down my body, finally meeting my eyes with a smirk, and my pale skin instantly turned beet red. I knew what he saw. I knew he saw a scrawny girl with braces dressed in flimsy, secondhand clothes sewn and resewn together when they fell apart by a too-tired, overworked single mom, and I knew he found me seriously lacking.

Even though he never said a kind word to me from the moment he met me, I was infatuated with him. To be fair, anyone would have been. He was tall, a bronze god with light brown hair streaked with natural blonde highlights, perfect white teeth, a slightly crooked smile, dimples, and the kind of lean, toned muscles every Hollywood actor strives for. On top of that, in my mind, he was already famous. He was the quarterback of the football team, the single element that had taken our school from a laughingstock to a real contender. He was like something out of a television show, with his easy laugh and sparkling smile. His detached behavior, especially with women, only made girls pursue him more. Everyone wanted to be the one to tame him. Jett Lang, the “bad boy” who was too charming to be legitimately threatening, but distant enough to feel like a rare treasure to be won.

And I was stuck in a small library cubicle with him for five hours every week.

Naturally, I immediately developed a crush, and that crush was easily perceived. I was shy in college, moving away from my small town and the few friends I had to swim in a sea of constant competition. I was an excellent tutor - my boss said that I was the best in the center - but I just fell apart when Jett looked at me.

I would begin reading his papers, making notes and developing talking points, but once I started talking, a smirk would cross his face and I would start to stammer. “See - um - you see, this, uh, this paragraph is a little… disorganized?” I would say. He would glance up at me from his notebook (where he would be, inevitably, doodling extremely crude, but uncomfortably detailed, pictures of genitalia), and I would wither under his ice-blue gaze. “We can, um, talk about it. Do you - do you want to talk about it?”

He never did. Any notes that I gave him were met with cold silence, open mockery, and - in some cases - blatant disregard for my existence. At least once a week, he would text his friends or listen to music while I was trying to talk to him.

The only reason that Jett came to see me was because he was as terrible at academia as he was amazing at football. I knew perfectly well that he was only there because his coach forced him to be. But I always hoped that he was getting something out of our time together. I wanted to make some small, lasting impact on what I believed was the kind of golden life I would never be able to achieve.

Which means that, when he asked me to go on a date with him after one of our tutoring sessions, I was so stunned and so thrilled that, naturally, I agreed before the words were even completely out of his mouth. I thought, maybe, that he’d been secretly shy all along too. If a boy’s mean to you, it’s because he likes you, I remembered countless adults telling me as a child.

I feel my jaw clench as I watch Jett eat in the diner, thinking about the night of our “date.” I had been so excited. I could still see myself, as if floating outside of my body, waiting in my awkward, baggy dress and the cardigan that my mother had told me was cute. My roommate, an equally shy wallflower, had done my makeup, and I was feeling exceptionally proud, standing on the sidewalk in front of my dorm. I - awkward, mousy Claire Donnelly - was about to go on a date with the most beloved man on campus. I was shivering with excitement.

I saw Jett’s old, ragged Cadillac coming down the street just on time, and my heart skipped a beat. I took a deep breath and put on a winning smile.

That’s when the first egg hit.

It exploded against my shoulder, and I gasped from the impact. For a second, I didn’t know what had happened. Then, I saw two more cars following Jett’s, and I understood.

Eggs came at me from all directions, cracking against every inch of my dress, a dress that I loved so much, the one I saved for special occasions only, shells sliding through my hair. Balloons joined the eggs, hard and full of paint. They stung when they popped against my skin, and at least a few were thrown so hard at my stomach they knocked the wind out of me. I stood, motionless and stunned, and heard wild laughter. “Looking good, Titless Wonder!” I heard Jett shout, and the laughter only increased.

I stood and watched them drive away. The humiliation was so deep and sudden that I couldn’t even cry. Instead, I slowly turned around, looking up at my building. I saw several lights come on in previously darkened room, heads popping out of windows, and I could hear a chorus of poorly-stifled giggles from every corner of the street. After a minute, I slowly - painfully - uprooted my feet and walked, stiff-legged, back to my dorm room. My roommate was horrified and immediately offered to help, but there was nothing she could do. I walked straight into the bathroom and into the shower, and avoided looking into the mirror until every scrap of egg and paint was cleaned off my skin. Later, I found a piece of eggshell in my braces when I brushed my teeth.

The rest of the year had been an awful continuation of that night. It became a legendary story around campus, and everywhere I went, I was followed by shouts of “Titless Wonder!” Pictures of me standing dumbfounded somehow made their way around campus. The lack of respect Jett had for me during our tutoring sessions turned into open contempt.

In short, Jett Lang fucking ruined college for me.

Here I sit, six years later, in a diner watching the jackass shovel food into the gaping hole that he’d used to scream mocking insults at me.

“What’ll it be?” he asks thickly through a mouthful of beef.

Stay with a guy who beats the hell out of me for the next year or so until I get enough money to leave or he murders me, or marry Jett Lang.

“Well?” he prompts.

“Give me a minute,” I say. “I’m still thinking about it.”

Chapter 4 JETT

I don’t think I’ve ever been more relieved than I am when Claire agrees to marry me. I promise her she won’t regret it, which she snorts at- actually snorts, and call Larry before the check even arrives.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Larry breathes.  I picture him gesturing a sign of a cross, “This woman is a saint. She’s an angel. Hell, I want to marry her now.”

“Hey, marrying me is a pretty good bargain,” I argue.

“Sure. You keep telling yourself that.”

“Fuck you.” I pause. “You still my agent?”

“As long as this girl doesn’t come to her senses before she’s wearing your ring,” Larry says. “I’m getting you both a flight to Vegas now. You can use the manager’s private jet. Get your ass to his place in thirty minutes. And Jett… Don’t screw this up.”

“How can I screw it up?”

“By being you.” I hear the dial tone in my ear and hang up, rolling my eyes. The guy is being a real ass, but at least he’s an ass who will keep me as his client. That’s probably more than I have a right to expect. I know I’ve put him through some shit.

I turn to Claire and smile. “Alright, let’s get going!”

“What?” she frowns. “You mean - now?”

“You know what they say. There’s no time like the present.” I throw a hundred down on the table. “Come on. My agent says we’ve got half an hour to get to the plane, and he gets annoyed if I’m too late.”

Claire gapes at me. “But… now?”

“What?” I ask. “Were you hoping to swing by your abusive boyfriend’s place and ask him if it’s cool if you run off to Vegas and marry me, maybe pack a bag while you’re there?”

Claire sighs and rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t argue, just picks up her purse, throws it over her shoulder, and follows me to the door.

“I don’t have anything to wear,” she mutters.

“We’re going to Vegas, Claire. We’ll buy you new clothes. Maybe you can get some of those burlesque outfits.”

Claire just sneers at me and pushes past. She climbs into the passenger seat of my Lexus and folds her arms in front of her.

Although I’d been joking about the burlesque outfits, the mental picture sticks with me. I have a hard time keeping my eyes on the road as I drive. In spite of the bruises starting to bloom on her arms and her cheek, she is a beautiful woman. There had always been something slightly adorable about her in college, her bird-bone structure just as fragile as her ego. Her vulnerability, though, had annoyed me at the time. We met right after…. well, my mom had just passed and I was going through some shit. Angry at the world, and angry at women in general. She seemed to worship the ground I walked on. Her slavish devotion bothered me. In her big brown eyes, I saw the kind of admiration that my mother always seemed to have for my father, and a part of me was disgusted. No amount of lukewarm adorability could save her after that.

I’ve always been ashamed of the way I treated her back then, though. I’m not a guy who harbors many regrets, but, well, how I behaved to Claire, that’s maybe my biggest one. She didn’t deserve it.

She keeps her face turned away from me, staring out the window. She’s grown into quite a woman I observe admiringly– strong, independent, not to mention a woman willing to do something completely crazy to better her life and her situation rather than fawning over some drunken asshole who beats the fuck out of her the way my mother did. Her choice is not to die at the hands of some dirtbag monster who claims to love her, but whose love comes with bruises and broken bones, and she isn’t going to leave children behind to mourn her and deal with the aftermath of her senseless death.

I look over at her again and she pretends not to notice. Her awkward cuteness has turned into elegant beauty. She’s filled out a bit, and it looks good. She’s got a full round ass and sloping hips. Her tits are still small, but they’d always looked good on her; they suit her. Now that her braces are gone, her teeth are perfectly straight and white, occasionally peeking out from behind her plump lips.

I vaguely wonder if there’s any chance that a phony marriage to Claire Donnelly might become something a little more.

*

When we get to the Vegas strip, Claire stands and stares with her jaw hanging open, looking around at the bright lights and gaudy buildings like she’s never seen anything like it. She probably hasn’t, I realize, and I remember what that felt like. For a second, I’m lost in her wonderment.

Then I remember that we have a wedding to get to.

“Hey, you can stare at the pretty lights later,” I say, taking her hand. “We still need to get you a dress.”

“A dress? Can’t I just get married like this?” she, gestures to her dirty clothes. There are small tears in them, dirt stains on the back, and even a few spots of blood.

“No, yeah, sure,” I say sarcastically. “That’ll look beautiful in pictures. Someday when we’re showing our wedding pictures to our kids, we can explain that mommy got the shit beat out of her like two hours before our wedding. It will be very romantic.”

She glares. “Okay, one,” she holds up her index finger, “none of this is romantic. You’re literally paying me to marry you to get me away from my shitbag boyfriend. And two, what kids are you referring to? Because you can’t mean kids that you put in my body. Our genes will stay plenty far away from each other.”

“You say that now, but just wait,” I smirk. “I’m irresistable. One of these nights, you’ll be laying in a cold bed, thinking about how lonely you are, and you’ll come down the hall and slip into my king-size bed -”

“Yeah… NO.” She sticks her chin out.

I pout. “You’re no fun.”

“No, I’m not. I figured you’d have remembered that.” She looks down at her clothes. “Let’s just go get a fucking dress and get this over with.”

“Some makeup wouldn’t hurt either.”

“Fuck you.” Claire says. She looks hurt and I wish I would have phrased that better.

“I mean…” I explain, “You have a big-ass bruise on your cheek, Claire. We should probably cover that up, this is about my public image after all. I wouldn’t want anyone suspecting that I gave it to you.”

“Oh.” The sweetest pink tinge creeps up her cheeks. “Yeah, that’s probably true.”

“Thank you. Can we stop arguing and get some clothes and make it look like we, well, planned this?” I tentatively hold out my hand for her to grasp, wondering if she’ll leave me hanging.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she mutters and steps towards me taking my hand and entwining our fingers. “Might as well start pretending now. Lead the way.”

Finding a dress shop is pretty easy, and it’s equally as easy to find rings, a tux, and a minister. In spite of Claire’s protests, we buy her dress rather than renting it.

“It’s your wedding dress,” I say. “You might want it someday.” I’m not even sure why it matters to me, or what logic I’m employing. I guess I figure that with all she’s been through tonight, she deserves to have something nice.

“I need you to stop acting like we’re going to stay married,” she says.

“Well, I think it’s weird that you don’t want to buy it, but you also won’t let me see you in it until you walk down the aisle because it’s ‘bad luck.’”

“I have enough man problems in my life,” she says tersely, “No need to go and create another.”

The ceremony preparation is quick. The minister has clearly already had a few too many cocktails, and he rushes us along obviously wanting this to be short and sweet. The organ starts to blast out the wedding march.

I watch the archway for Claire to emerge, ready to get this over with myself. When I see her, my heart skips a beat. She’s wearing a pale dusty rose colored dress of smooth satin that highlights her pale skin and reddish-brown hair. Her dress drapes over her body, clinging to her hips in a way that makes the fabric flow like water over her legs. Her bruised cheek and jaw is covered with makeup, and her long hair is pulled up, with small lace veil tucked in. She is absolutely breathtaking. The way she moves, it looks like she’s gliding towards me, a vision of beauty. At this moment I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen a more beautiful woman.

“What?” she murmurs as she reaches the altar, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. A blush creeps up her cheeks and she fusses with her top, which hangs low, revealing the little cleavage she has. “Do I look that bad?”

“No,” I swallow and try to resume breathing. “You look -”

The minister cuts me off. “You two getting married?”

“Yeah,” I respond.

“Great.” He flips through his notes. “Marriage is great, it’s a beautiful blessing, yadda yadda yadda… here we go. Jeff -”

“My name is Jett.”

“Jett, do you agree to be nice to her and pick up your shit when she asks you to and not sleep with other girls and just generally be a cool guy?”

“Um.” I bite my lip to keep from laughing. “Yeah. I do.”

“Cool. Claire, do you agree to not get too down on him for the shit he’s not doing and appreciate what he is doing instead, not to spend all his money, and try to put up with his bullshit with being a total bitch about it?”

“Sure. I mean, I do.”

“Awesome.” He tosses his notes onto the altar. “Then, by the power vested in me by the internet, I now pronounce you man and wife. Congratulations. You can pick up your license on the way out.”

“That’s it?” Claire asks.

“It’s been a rough day,” the minister looks at us through hangdog, bloodshot eyes. “Just go to the hotel and fuck already. If you need a divorce, I can give you my brother’s card.”

“Your brother is a divorce lawyer?” I say incredulously.

“Yup.” The minister starts gathering his things. “I set them up, he knocks them down.”

“How lovely,” Claire says dryly.

“It’s Vegas, kids.” Picking up his backpack of supplies, he pats me on the shoulder. “But don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll be different for you two.”

Claire and I walk outside, waiting until the witness and the minister leave. I tuck our marriage license in my pocket and we stand silently for a moment beneath the just brightening sky.

In the weak, watery light of dawn, I gaze at my new wife. She’s taken off her veil and is standing serenely looking at the strip and the pedestrians hobbling down the street in various stages of drunkenness. I see the corners of her lips turn up slightly, then a small smile starts to form. It splits into a grin, and eventually, she throws her head back and laughs, her dewy skin catching the light as she lets out high-pitched, ringing laughter. Damn, it’s good to see her laugh.

“What a fucking lunatic!” she finally squeals. “What kind of vows were those?”

“Claire,” I deadpan, holding her by the shoulders, “I promise to try to be a ‘cool guy’ to you for the rest of my days.”

Claire giggles wildly. “And I promise not to be a ‘total bitch’ about all of your bullshit.”

We both laugh. Watching her stand here in front of me, giggling and snorting when she laughs too hard, and wearing that gorgeous wedding gown, I let myself forget for a moment that this wedding isn’t real and means nothing. In that moment of joy, I forget our circumstances and pull her to my chest wrapping my arms around her.

When she flinches, I remember.

“Um.” I pull back, watching the stunned look on her face fade into uncomfortable worry. “Maybe we should head to the hotel.”

“Yeah,” she confirms. “Yeah, we should definitely do that.”

I watch her walk to the car, my heart sinking. If there had been a chance between Claire and myself, I think I just blew it.

The honeymoon suite is fully stocked with a very nice mini bar, and before I even put my bags down, Claire is already taking full advantage of the selection.

Out of the corner of my eye I watch her guzzle bottle after bottle of mini airplane booze down her throat, like she’s Alice trying to find a way to make herself small enough to disappear in Wonderland. I ignore her, giving her space; besides, she seems like she needs the booze more than I do.

I dig through my bag, and head into the bathroom to take a long shower. I’ll never admit it to anybody, but Claire's prick of a boyfriend actually got in a couple really good shots. I’m more than capable of taking a punch, but there is a spot near the bottom of my ribs that still throbs.

When I walk back out, I’m surprised to see Claire draped over the bed, her messy hair cascading around her shoulders. “Hello, Mr. Lang,” she slurs, grinning. On the nightstand is a vast assortment of empty bottles.

“Mrs. Lang,” I reply. I can’t help but smile. Even drunk, she is adorable.

“You know.” She rolls over, looking at me upside down. She kicks one leg in the air, and her dress turns into a puddle at her hips. “It's our wedding night.”

“It is,” I agree cautiously. Shit. This might not be headed in a good direction.

“You're my husband,” she continues, “and I'm your wife.”

“Getting married will have that effect, yes.”

She flips clumsily to her knees. “Most people consummate their marriage on the wedding night.” She seems to think she’s speaking in a sexy purr, but her words are horribly loud, mangled and slurred.

“Most couples, yeah, but Claire…”

She isn't listening. She shuffles off the bed and starts humming a tune that reminds me of old burlesque shows, with loud trumpets and piano that she tries - and fails - to imitate. She kicks off one shoe, staggers, catches herself, and kicks off the other. She starts swinging her hips back and forth aggressively, pulling at one of her dress straps. “Are you enjoying the show, Mr. Lang?” she giggles.

“I…” My mouth is dry. The truth is, I am enjoying the show. I am enjoying the absolutely shit out of it. Claire Donnelly is a sexpot. Who knew? But she is as drunk as she is sexy.

She spins all the way around, looking confused, then twirls until she is facing away from me. She pulls her zipper down (with considerable difficulty) and shimmies, letting her dress fall away. She turns back around, grinning and snickering.

“Look!” she exclaims, bouncing around excitedly. “They gave me special underwear for our wedding night.”

Special does not even begin to describe it. It is a soft pink that stands out against Claire’s pale skin. Her bra is covered with elaborate lace designs, and her panties are so small they are simply a barely-there tiny triangle of lace, enough for me to see that she is completely shaved.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. I look around, like maybe there will be some kind of available escape route. My dick is as hard as a rock, and begging for release, but this just can’t happen. She will kill me in the morning, and then my agent will bring me back to life and kill me again.

She struts, or, more like stumbles right up to me and drops awkwardly to her knees. Her massive brown eyes flutter at me, and she starts tugging on my belt.

“Even though you’re a jerk, you’re still really hot,” she muses, her fingers fumbling. “I liked you sooooo much in freshman year. You were such a piece of shit back then, but you’ve actually been pretty nice to me tonight.” She beams up at me and licks her lips in what she clearly thinks is is very sexy and appealing. “I wanna be nice to you too.”

I swear that my heart completely stops. I have never, and I mean never wanted to fuck somebody so badly. I’ve had supermodels planting themselves in my lap, movie stars passing me their room keys at hotels, and even other players’ gorgeous wives slipping into the locker room when they knew I’d be alone. I’d fucked dozens and dozens of the most gorgeous women in the world.

But this is Claire.

Claire Donnelly - now Claire Lang - had spent college trying to live down the dumb bullshit I put her through, took care of her mom, and was repaid for it by getting the shit beaten out of her by the boyfriend who should have been standing beside her helping to shoulder the burden. She isn’t just some chick who’s had so many drunken hook-ups another can’t possibly matter to her in the morning. She isn’t just some chick, period. She is beautiful and strong, and brave and she needs someone to finally care about her and help her out.

I’m no honorable gentleman by any means, but no way am I gonna do anything that might hurt her again. And my dick definitely is not what she needs from me tonight.

“Hey.” I grab her hands. She looks disappointed. “Maybe later, okay? But I think you should drink some water and get to bed.”

“Uh-uh!” she pouts, staggering to her feet. “You’re not my dad, you can’t tell me what to do!”

“Claire, I’m serious. When’s the last time you drank like this?”

She screws her face up and looks like she’s thinking. “Um… My 21st birthday, I had a few Long Islands.”

Jesus Christ, she’s never been this drunk in her life.

“Okay, come here.” I guide her to the fluffy king-sized bed. “Just sit here, okay?” I rummage through the fridge, find a few bottles of water and put three on the side of her bed. “Drink one of these right now, okay?”

She frowns, but twists the cap open anyway.

I head out into the hall and down to the lobby. “Hey.” I sidle up to the front desk. “Do you have any chips or anything?”

“Of course,” the girl behind the desk chirps. “We have a wide menu selection, and you can order at any hour.”

“Great.” I glance at the menu. “I’m just gonna order a bread basket for the honeymoon suite. And can you please get that to me as soon as possible?”

I wait in the hallway in front of the room for room service to appear. I don’t want to risk Claire opening the door in her tiny underwear. I have a feeling she’s going to have enough to regret in the morning.

When I walk back in, Claire is still working on the water bottle I gave her. I hand her a couple rolls. “Eat these. There’ll be more bread on the nightstand if you want any more. Make sure you finish that bottle of water, and then go to sleep.”

Claire sticks out her bottom lip. “But Jett,” she whines, and I hold up a hand.

“Just trust me, okay? I have a lot of experience in getting completely shitfaced. You’re going to need to do something to make the hangover a little less intense. Get under the covers.”

“I’m too hot,” she complains.

I take the ornamental top cover off of her. “Better?”

“Yeah.” She snuggles into the pillows.

“Are you sleepy yet?”

She shakes her head, but yawns.

“Okay. Well you stay there, finish your water, and eat, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.”

I wander around the suite. Behind a door I almost miss, is a small living room with a couch and a few chairs. I pile decorative pillows up on the sofa and throw the blanket over it. It reminds me a little of how I slept in the trailer growing up. At least here I won’t have to deal with my younger brother kicking me and my older brother snoring all night.

I head back out to the bedroom. “Hey, Claire?”

I hear soft snores from the bed, but check on her anyway, only to find that she’s already asleep.

Good. She deserves some rest.

I pull the covers up around her and tucked her in, hoping that she won’t get too cold. Even in her sleep, there’s a small, thin line of worry between her eyebrows. I remembered seeing my mother sleeping like that every night as though her fear of my father and all he’d put her through was so intense and overwhelming that she couldn’t even relax in her sleep. The only time my mom had ever looked peaceful was when she was laying in her casket after my father finally shot her.

My mom had deserved to have peace in her life. Claire deserves it, too.

Very gently, I run my hand over Claire’s silky hair, stroking it until I see her frown start to disappear. Her face gradually relaxes, and she gives me a soft, contented sigh. I kiss her on the forehead, and she smiles in her sleep.

Lying on my makeshift bed, I actually feel good. I did the right thing. For the first time, I’m the good guy.

I shuck off my pants and boxer briefs and grab my hard cock, quickly stroking myself. Being a good guy is great, but I’m left with a massive case of blue balls, and as clumsy as it was, that strip-tease of Claire’s is going to be at the top of my spank bank for a long time.

Chapter 5 CLAIRE

I think I’ve died and gone straight to hell. My head is pounding, and my stomach is sour. Whimpering, I roll over and crack open one eye. I’m grateful to see the shades pulled down, and even more grateful to see some aspirin and water on the bedside table.

I down the pills and tear off a few small bites of stale bread from a basket of rolls on the nightstand, waiting for all of my senses to arrive. I’m clearly in a hotel room, the nicest hotel room I’ve ever been in. The bedroom alone is as big as the house I’d grown up in. Everything is decorated in white lace.

Slowly, memories return. The bar with Aaron… the fight with Jett… the diner… the insane proposal… that ridiculous marriage with a half-in-the-bag minister…

I look down. I’m not in my wedding dress. In fact, I’m not wearing much at all. An icy chill runs through me and paralyzes me momentarily before red hot anger seethes through my veins like a lava flow.

I am dressed in nothing more than the practically nonexistent underwear that the pushy saleswoman forced me to buy for my “special night.” A special night that I can’t remember, but that had apparently been pretty eventful for one of us.

I am livid. I’ve been taken advantage of before by Aaron, for whom nothing is too low. But, now I have to watch my back around the guy who promised to help me. Once again, I’m nothing more than a slab of meat. The bastard. I will fucking kill him.

I hear the water running in the shower and throw off my blankets, storming into the bathroom. I hardly notice the steam billowing out at me, and rip open the smoked glass door to see Jett, soaping himself up and looking stunned. “Jesus fucking Christ, Claire!” he bellows, not making any attempt to cover himself, “Give a guy some warning.”

“Warning?” I scream. I climb into the shower and pound on his chest and shoulders with my fists. “Did you give me any warning before you fucking raped me last night?”

“What are you talking about, you lunatic? I didn’t do anything.”

“Then explain to me how I woke up in nothing but my underwear, you fucking creep. I don’t remember anything past when we arrived in the room. What did you do, wait until I passed out? I will kill you!”

He grabs my wrists and although I writhe and try to free myself, he is too strong and immobilizes me easily. My punches hadn’t seemed to affect him much either. I’ve never had the best upper body strength.

“Will you calm down? I didn’t do anything to you, I swear. I slept in the other room.”

“Bullshit!”

“It’s true.” He turns the water off and storms out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. I follow him through the bedroom and into a small living room area. “Look!” He points to a couch piled high with decorative pillows and a lacy blanket. “See? I slept here all night! I wasn’t even in the bed with you.”

“Then why am I in my underwear?”

He sighs. “Because you took your dress off. You were super drunk and you started talking about how you wanted to ‘be nice’ to me and ‘consummate the marriage,’ and you started doing this strip tease.” The corner of his mouth turns up ever so slightly.

The blank spots in my memory start to fill. I put a hand to my mouth, remembering bits and pieces. I was singing some stupid tune, trying to get his pants off, and he forced me into bed with water and bread.

“Oh my God.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my God.” I look up at him, mortified. “I - Jett, I am so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he grunts, wrapping his towel more firmly around himself. “Just next time, could you wait until after I’m done showering to try to kick my ass,” he teases.

I put my head in my hands. “I am a mess,” I whisper.

“Yeah, sort of.” He pats me on the shoulder. “I’m going to go finish my shower. You should get dressed. My agent called and said we have to leave in about an hour to go back to my place.”

“Of course.” I watch him walk away as I wilt in humiliation.

*

The plane ride is completely silent. I stare out the window, doing my best not to make eye contact with my new husband. What had I been thinking? Just because I woke up in my underwear, I assumed he took advantage of me? Sure, Jett was a jerk in college - and he kind of still seemed like one - but did I really have to immediately go there?

Besides, Jett had been with tons of beautiful women. It was stupid to think he’d even consider doing anything with me. Even though Take Back the Night had taught me that rape was about control more than anything, Jett would probably be disgusted by the very thought of touching me. He laughed when I was afraid he was going to want me to have sex with him. Just like he had in college, he’d just laughed.

Why would I think a guy like him would ever even think about touching a girl like me?

*

I thought the hotel room we’d stayed in was big, but Jett’s home is twenty times that size. The wrought iron gates part for us, and Jett drives us up the long driveway to his garage. I know my mouth is hanging open the whole time, I’m completely absorbed in the view of the beautiful trees scattered throughout the yard and the massive, pale blue mansion with white trim. Two men are standing next to the garage door. At first, I think they might be butlers or some sort of hired help, but then Jett whispers, “Oh, fuck me.”

“What’s wrong?”

He points to the two men. Both are tall and fairly well-built like Jett, one has shaggy black hair and tattoos, while the other is dressed to the nines in an expensive looking business suit.

“My brothers,” he sighs. “I’m so sorry.”

The moment we open the doors, the two walk toward us. “What the hell?” the one in the suit says, looking outraged. “You got married?”

“And we had to find out from a fucking tabloid?” the other adds.

Jett takes a deep breath and turns toward me. “Claire, this is my older brother, Grayson, and my younger brother, Cade. Apparently they’ve come to celebrate our honeymoon with us.”

“Fuck off,” Grayson, the well-dressed brother, snapped. “We’ve put up with a lot of your shit over the years, but this is beyond the pale. I know you think you’re too good for us half the time -”

“I never said that!”

“- but you couldn’t even give us a phone call? Jesus, Jett, how selfish can you be?”

Cade extends a hand towards me. “Nice to meet you,” he says sarcastically. “I’m assuming you’re some foreign model I’ve never heard of?”

“Um.” I just look at his hand. “No, actually. I tutored Jett in college.”

Both brothers look shocked. “Wait,” Cade says, “you’re that Claire?”

“Oh my God!” I slap Jett’s shoulder. My voice quivers, “You told them about college?”

“At the time, yeah. I didn’t think they’d remember it.” Jett turns to his brothers. “Guys, listen. It’s not a big deal. Claire was having a, um, difficult time, and we decided to help each other out. Larry thought I should get married, and Claire was available, so…”

“So you paid her to marry you?” Grayson asks. “That’s just creepy, Jett.”

“Not exactly,” Jett tries to explain, but Cade cuts him off.

“You must be pretty fucking desperate to marry him,” he says, nodding at his brother. “What, did you have a gambling debt or something? Some bookie threatening to break your bones?”

I’m surprised by the twinge of defensiveness I feel, not for myself, but for Jett. “Not a bookie,” I snap. “A boyfriend threatening to break bones. He succeeded once or twice, too. I don’t think he’s going to bother me now that I’m living with a team of bodyguards, though.”

All three brothers look down at the ground. My outburst, it seems, has made them uncomfortable. I made them uncomfortable. Stupid girl, getting kicked around by some asshole, I imagine them all thinking.

“Now,” I say, “if you don’t mind, I’m going to go inside and find a bedroom.” I grab my meager bag of belongings, a couple of outfits I bought on the way out of Vegas. “It was not completely terrible meeting you.”

I storm into the house, trying to block out the whispers that follow me through the door.

*

“Claire? Claire, where are you?”

I gasp at Jett’s voice and wipe hastily at my eyes. I had tried to find the most secluded, out-of-the-way guest room in the house, but I knew Jett would find me eventually. Crap. I had hoped he wouldn’t find me sitting in my new bed and sobbing.

The door opens slowly. “Claire?” Jett takes in my puffy, red eyes and trembling lip. “Shit, I’m sorry. My brothers were just being dicks. They were pissed at me and ended up taking it out on you, and that wasn’t cool.”

“They’re fine. I get it. I… I’m not crying about them,” I stammer, wiping my nose and hugging my knees to my chest.

Jett frowns and sits on the end of the bed. “Then what are you crying about?”

“About - Jesus, about everything.” I throw my hands in the air. “This whole thing. I already feel like garbage all the time, and this is just making it worse. First I have a boyfriend who looks at me like I’m some dog shit he stepped in, I barely have any possessions, and nothing that I can actually purchase for myself, I have a husband who thinks I’m some ugly little mutant that’ll make women think he’s sensitive, and my new brothers-in-law, along with everyone else probably, think I’m just some, some, some fuck-whore.” I can’t stop my tears from flowing, but I cover my face with my hands. “I try not to let shit get to me, but there’s only so much a person can take. And now, the only person in the whole world that I have to talk to is you, the inventor of the Titless Wonder.”

When I raise my head, Jett is staring. “Don’t look at me like that!” I sniff.

“Like what? How am I looking at you?”

“Like I’m pathetic. Like I’m totally useless and disgusting and stupid. I know what you think of me, but don’t rub it in my face.”

“I don’t think you’re any of those things.”

“Fuck off,” I scoff.

“Seriously.” Jett scoots closer to me on the bed. “I don’t think you’re useless or stupid or pathetic, and I definitely don’t think you’re disgusting.”

“Please. The way you looked at me after you saw Aaron beating on me said it all.”

Jett sighs and rubs a hand over his face. He looks tired. “That wasn’t about you,” he says. “Or at least, I wasn’t thinking anything bad about you. You’re strong. You’re doing your best, making the best out of a bad situation. If you thought I was judging you, what you saw was just me… dealing with some shit.”

“Like?”

“Like…” Jett ruffles his hair in agitation. “When I was a kid, my dad constantly hit my mom. Every night, we had to listen to him beat the hell out of her. And she never did anything to end it, even though we were all scared and we begged her to leave him and get us all away from him. But she didn’t. And then, a few months before I left for college, he shot and killed her right in front of Cade.”

My stomach plummets like I’m on a rollercoaster ride. If I’d felt bad before, I feel like complete garbage now. “Oh my God, Jett. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says. “You didn’t do anything wrong. My point is, I’m actually really proud of you, Claire. You’re doing what my mom refused to do. She always thought that she could change him or that this time would be the last, but you’re not like that. That’s part of why I wanted to help you. You’re really smart, and you’re really tough. I like that.”

I sniffle. “Well, I’m sorry I won’t be much of a wife. I know you probably wanted to find somebody prettier.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t think you’ve always dreamed of marrying the Titless Wonder.”

“Shit.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t realize you still thought about that so much.”

“Yeah, well, surprise.”

He puts his hands on my shoulders. “I was a dick in college,” he says. “Honestly, I just did that whole thing because I had problems of my own. I had a lot of issues. My mom had just been killed and I was angry at the fucking world, trying to hurt others the way I was hurting. I’m ashamed of the way I treated you back then. The truth is, I thought you were kind of cute.”

I frown. “Nuh-uh.”

“Yeah. Even with the braces and everything, you were pretty adorable.” He smiles. “And now… Fuck, Claire, now, you’re gorgeous.”

“Bullshit.”

“You are. That strip tease you gave me was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Your hips and ass are incredible, you’ve got amazing legs, beautiful hair, the prettiest eyes in the world… and your titties are not too small. They’re perfect.”

“Shut up,” I say, blushing, but inwardly, I’m ecstatic. Maybe Jett is a good liar, but no one’s that good. If the expression on his face as he looks me in the eye isn’t proof enough, the bulge in his pants assures me that every word is true.

“Seriously.” His eyes scan my body, “I had to jack off three times last night before I could even fall asleep.”

“Jett!” My face must be crimson.

“I’m just being honest.” He grins. “Would I have had to do that if you were so ugly, pathetic and disgusting?”

I smile shyly. “I guess not.”

“Exactly.” He slides closer to me on the bed. “And if you weren’t beautiful, I definitely wouldn’t be doing this.”

I feel his warm breath fanning over my mouth seconds before his lips descend over mine in a passionate demand. A jolt of electricity shoots from my lips down to my most sensitive nerve endings. I gasp at the impact of it. When his tongue runs over my lips, they part in an open invitation, begging for more. He draws me tightly into his body as he wraps his muscled arms around me, pulling me even closer.

When he breaks off the kiss, he doesn’t release me from his grasp. His strong arms remain clasped tightly around me and my head rests against his chest. I melt into him experiencing something that I haven’t in so long, I almost forgot it exists.

For the first time in years, I feel safe.

Chapter 6 CLAIRE

It’s mid-Monday and Jett is driving me to Aaron’s apartment to help me pick up my stuff. Actually, Jett insisted on driving me and refused to take no for an answer. Aaron has, judging by the multiple, curse-filled texts to my cell phone, read about my marriage somewhere, so it won’t be too big of a shock for him to return home from work and find all of my belongings gone.

I rifle through my purse for my keys, hoping Aaron hasn’t changed the locks as Jett pushes the door open.

“Is it usually unlocked?”

“No. Never.”

“You stay here.” He creeps into the apartment. A minute later, he comes back out with a solemn expression. “I don’t think you should go in there.”

“Why?”

“You’re not getting your stuff back, Claire. Let’s just go home. We’ll get you new clothes and everything- whatever you need.”

I should listen but I have to see for myself. I push past him into the apartment and drop my purse. “Oh my God.”

The place looks like an absolute hellhole. A pile of my clothes sits on the living room floor covered in dirt, grease, and cigarette burns. All of my books have been torn to shreds. When I search through the closet for my keepsake box, I find all of my necklaces pulled apart, my earrings smashed, and the word “BITCH” scrawled across every page of my photo album, which is now empty. Snippets of pictures litter the ground like confetti.

Jett gently wraps an arm around my shoulder and guides me out to the car. I walk like a zombie where he leads.

“Are you okay?”

Okay? No, I’m not okay. But I’m also not surprised. Mostly, I just feel empty.

“Just take me home.”

Jett spends the next hour doting on me trying, no doubt, to improve my mood.

“Can I make you some tea? Or I could set up a bubble bath. Or we could watch reruns of The Bachelorette and you can tell me which contestants are assholes and why.”

“Jett,” I finally say softly, “I don’t need any of that, okay? I just need…” I swallow hard. What do I need? I’m not sure. I think of the few possessions I had that had meant anything to me. Pictures of my mom and myself that I’d hoped one day to show to my future children. The fact that someone could be so viciously vindictive to deliberately destroy them…

“I need to feel cared about,” I mumble almost under my breath.

“Okay.” He still seems unsure. “Tell me what to do.”

He is seated next to me on the couch and I climb into his lap. “Make love to me,” I whisper in his ear, and I press my lips to his.

His hands on me move tentatively at first but when I deepen the kiss, thrusting my tongue into his mouth, I feel an animalistic energy roll off of him and he responds full force. He grabs my thighs, pulling them apart until I’m straddling him. When I pull back, I see the raw lust in his bright blue eyes.

He slides my shirt over my head and his lips and teeth graze down my neck sending waves of tingling pleasure shooting through my core. His fingers deftly unhook my bra and it drops off my shoulders. Next, his hands snake their way under my skirt and he grips my ass. I use his shoulder to stifle a moan as his fingers hook the back of my thong and pull at it teasingly. I gasp, feeling the silky fabric rub against my clit.

In a swift move, he rolls me over onto the couch, and quickly rids himself of his shirt, shorts, and boxers. He kneels in front of me, divesting me of my skirt and panties, allowing me to drink in the sight of his toned, muscles, tan skin and massive cock, already standing at attention. My pussy throbs. I need him in me. Now.

But, he buries his face between my legs and I feel his warm breath ghost over my pussy lips. I shudder. His tongue darts out and makes slow, gentle circles around my clit before running up and down my folds. He sucks my clit into his mouth and I cried out in surprise - I’d never had a man exhibit such skill on my lady bits before. It’s not just skill, I realize, the way that he touches me, the way that he kisses my pussy with his tongue, lips, and teeth, it’s as though he’s worshiping me.

I feel a warmth begin in my core, the start of my orgasm, but before it can progress to its climax, Jett sits on the couch, grasps me with both hands around my waist and pulls me onto his lap. He positions the head of his thick cock at my entrance.

“Ride me, baby,” his voice is thick with desire. His hands roam from my ass up to my chest, where he massages my tits, tweaking my nipples. “Show me how beautiful you look with my cock inside you.”

I suddenly feel in a position of control. I slowly sink down onto his shaft. It stretches me apart; it’s so big that it almost hurts. I take him inch by inch sliding back up then down a little farther each time until I sink all the way down and his rod is fully immersed inside me. I’m wrapped tightly around his cock. I feel so full and every nerve ending in my pussy is being stimulated. He moans and pulls me toward him taking one of my nipples in his mouth.

The feeling of Jett sucking my nipple and flicking his tongue against it sends tingles of electricity shooting to my core and I start moving and grinding against him. I’m filled to capacity by his enormous cock but I want more - I am desperate for him. Every inch of him that slides out of my pussy makes me crave him, long for him to be buried back inside me. I don’t know what’s happening to me, to my body. I’ve never had this reaction to a man before. Everything with Jett is intensified. I cling to his shoulders moaning and increase my pace, bouncing on his cock, pounding it into me as hard as I can.

He looks at me through hooded eyes his own pleasure clearly evident on his face. He is watching me. Studying my face.

“You like my cock, baby?”

“Oh, God yes.”

“You like riding me? Like putting on a show for me with that hot fucking body of yours?”

“Fuck yes,.” I cry. I am bucking wildly, feeling the telltale tingling start to pool in my pussy. “I love riding you.” My body is glistening with sweat. I can feel a droplet of sweat roll down my chest between my tits. Jett seems mesmerized by it.

“Show me how much you like it, baby. Cum for me. I want to see the look on my beautiful wife’s face when she cums hard on my dick.” I see stars when I feel his thumb massage my clit in slow circles.

“Oh God, yes!” White light flashes behind my half-closed eyelids, my body goes stiff, even as he continues thrusting into me. My orgasm crashes over me, wave after wave of shooting, tingling ecstasy. “Yes, Jett, yes, yes - JETT!” I hear the voice screaming his name but it takes a few seconds for me to realize the voice belongs to me.

“That’s it, beautiful,” I hear Jett’s groaning getting louder, thrusting into me harder, “Oh fuck, you’re so fucking incredible, so sexy, I’m gonna cum -”

“Please,” I beg, still in the throes of pleasure, my pussy clenches around him with every thrust. “Cum in me. Jett, fill me up.”

That’s all it takes for Jett to pull me into a fiery kiss, moaning into my mouth. His arms hold me tight as I feel his dick pulse, shooting his seed deep inside of me. We continue to kiss, gasp, and twitch with pleasure as we come down from our high. I fall against him, chest to chest, my head falls over his shoulder.

“That was amazing,” I murmur in his ear. “I wish we could do it again right now.”

Jett chuckles, his deep voice sending shivers through me. “Who’s says we can’t?” And before I know it, I’m tossed over his shoulder like a rag doll as he carries me off towards his bedroom.

Chapter 7 JETT

I toss Claire onto the bed, and she squeals in anticipation, grinning up at me. We’ve barely worn any clothes for the past week, and she still seems enthralled by me. I don’t know how I got so lucky to score this amazing woman in my bed in the first place, but the fact that she’s into me too is the most potent aphrodisiac a man could ever need. She throws her hands above her head and wiggles her hips, her legs spread wide. I see the glistening of her arousal juices between her legs.

“Take me, baby,” she breathes.

Oh, fuuuck!

“Not yet.” I crawl onto the bed, settling between her legs. I have to taste her sweet pussy first. I run my tongue up the inside of her thigh and she shudders. I’m going slowly, taking my time, savoring her. The closer I get to her pink folds, the louder her sighs and gasps become. It’s an incredible rush knowing I have this effect on her. I gently kiss her clit and flick my tongue across it, she shivers. Yesss, that’s it.

I love teasing her, and as much as she begs, I know that she’s being pleasured and loves it too. I suck, kiss and lick at her pussy lips, slowly running my tongue around her entrance without dipping inside or touching her clit.

“I hate you,” she pants. I just smirked and continue building her up. My tongue trails delicately around and around until she is squirming and moaning, her breathing coming out in shallow pants. I plunge my tongue into her and wrapped my lips around her clit.

“Oh, fuck!” she screams, her hand flies to my head, fingers entangling themselves in my hair while I quicken the pace of my tongue. I flick my tongue over her clit and she thrusts up into my mouth. She is getting wetter by the second, and I swallow every drop of her sweetness I can.

She pushes my head back and wiggles out from under my face.

“My turn,” she smirks, and she’s instantly on her knees in front of me. Her lips wrap around my cock and she slides me all the way to the back of her throat. Her moans vibrate up my shaft. She slides her mouth back and forth over my length before running her tongue up and down the veiny underside of my dick.

“That’s it, baby,” I groan, guiding her head gently. “Get it nice and wet so I can fuck you the way you want.” I watch her sexy lips sliding along my cock and suddenly, I can’t take it anymore, I have to be inside her, connected to her primally.

I push her onto her back, and she spreads her legs for me immediately. “You want this, baby?” I ask. I rub the head of my cock against her wet entrance.

“Oh God, yes, baby,” she mewls. “Please, give me your cock. I need to have you in me.”

“Well. I’ll never deny my beautiful wife,” I whisper, and in one thrust, I plunge myself into her balls deep, fully sheathing myself in her wet, velvety warmth.

She moans with pleasure, wrapping her legs and arms around me, her nails dig into my skin as I pound her. I bite into her neck, growling, a primal sense of overwhelming pleasure rolls through me. She’s so incredibly tight, and the way she scratches at my back like a wild animal drives me crazy. I bend her almost in half, fucking her hard into the mattress, my hands running all over her body. They come to rest on her ass, and I give it a tight squeeze. The noise she makes tells me she approves.

“Oh fuck, Jett, I’m gonna cum,” she whimpers. Her words only spur me on faster. “Jett, Jett, oh, oh!”

I pull out just after I feel her pussy start to convulse. She shouts in frustration, glaring up at me, but she doesn’t have much time to be angry. I flip her over onto her knees as fast as I can, driving into her from behind, feeling her continue to cum around my cock as she shrieks with renewed passion.

I can feel her starting to wind down as my own passion starts to well up to painful proportions. “I’m not going to cum alone, baby,” I whisper in her ear. One of my hands clamps onto her breast, rolling her nipples in my fingers, and the other reaches for her clit, drawing circles around it and strumming back and forth over it. Her weak spasms soon return to a full-blown orgasm, and I feel my dick twitch. I bite down on her shoulder as I release, shooting out in pulses what feels like a gallon of my cum into her still-clenching pussy. I let her ride out her orgasm, pushing back against me, until she finally collapses on the bed and I roll off her back and collapse next to her.

I reach for her hand and lace our fingers together. I feel my heartbeat slow, and I know I want to say something to her, but I’m not sure how. So, I close my eyes, open my mouth, and let the words come from my heart.

“I really love you, Claire.”

Her head snaps toward me, a startled expression clouding her features. We stay that way for several minutes until, slowly, a contented smile spreads across her face.

“I love you too,” she whispers, and for the first time, I feel at peace.

Chapter 8 CLAIRE

The next three months fly by in a haze of happiness. I have never had a man treat me so well. Hell, I’ve never had anyone treat me so well. My coworkers are the perfect balance of jealous and impressed, and I’ve had plenty of them ask to come over just to catch a glimpse of my handsome husband.

The money is nice, too, and the house is excellent. Plus, the fact that I don’t have to worry about Aaron is amazing. But the best thing of all, truly, is Jett. Our marriage started off as a fake, but it took us very little time to realize that we each fill a space in the other that was hollow and empty and had been for long time.

Yes, I’ve fallen head over heels for my husband.

It turns out that Jett is so much kinder and goofier than I ever expected, and I think he was surprised when he found that I actually have a decent sense of humor. Somehow, overnight almost, he went from being the guy trying to help me out to being a real, honest-to-God husband. I am so damn happy that I sometimes have to suppress a giggle or two at work so my coworkers don’t think I’ve gone completely bat-shit crazy. We click so well that it doesn’t even matter that we skipped the dating stage. I am entirely his, and he is entirely mine.

Right now it’s NFL offseason, and offseason conditioning hasn’t started yet which means two things. One, Jett is at home waiting for me, and two, I have to concentrate on not getting a speeding ticket. I ease up slightly on the gas pedal. I used to dread going home at the end of the workday, but now, a few short months later, it’s all I can think about in the afternoon.

I picture Jett at home fixing dinner, wearing that goofy apron that always gets a giggle or two out of me, an episode of a show we both like on the DVR, and an ice cold beer ready and waiting for me. My husband likes to spoil me. Often all of these things are abandoned until we after a quick but passionate roll in the sheets… or the floor, couch, kitchen table…

“Hey, Jett!” I call, rushing through the door. “I’m home.”

No response. The massive house gives nothing but silence.

“Jett?” I creep through the hallways, a niggling thought at the back of my head has me wonder if Jett has some sort of surprise planned. It would be just like him. Something feels off, though. I make my way towards the bedroom hoping my husband’s in there waiting for me in his b-day suit. I push the bedroom door open.

“Jett?”

The scene in front of me stops me cold. I feel hypothermic, my legs too frozen to move, my blood turned to ice.

On the bed, our bed, Jett is in his underwear snoring softly. His arm is thrown over a slender, leggy blonde wearing heavy makeup and nothing else. She slowly opens her eyes. As soon as she sees me, she sits up abruptly, her massive fake breasts barely jiggling as she does.

“Jett,” she shouts.

Jett moans something and groggily rolls his head, but doesn’t fully awaken.

“Jett,” the blonde is louder now and nudges him hard in the ribs with her elbow.

Jett raises his head, props himself on his elbows and looks as though he’s trying to focus.

“Claire?” His words are slurred. Is he drunk? A ridiculous grin slowly spreads across his face. I want to slap him- slap the grin right off him. I want to claw out his eyes and spit on his bloody face. If I could get my feet to move from this spot.

“What? What’s wrong? Claire?”

He turns to the blonde beside him. “Jesus Christ!”

“You son of a bitch,” I hiss shaking with rage. “How could you?”

“It’s not what it looks like, I swear,” he says quickly. He tries to stand, but stumbles and sits back down on the bed. “I don’t know this woman.”

“Excuse me?” the woman whines. She stands, and shows just how long and shapely her tan legs are. “You said you told her. You said you officially left her.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jett looks confused, and I have to give him credit, he’s doing a damn fine acting job. “Claire, I’m serious -”

“Save it,” I snap. My entire body is trembling now. I curse the tears that I now feel streaming down my face. I wish to hell he didn’t have the satisfaction of seeing me cry. “I should have known. I knew before we started this whole ridiculous sham that you were a bad idea, I should have listened to my gut instinct. A tiger doesn’t change his stripes.”

“But Claire…”

“Fuck you.” I slam the door behind me and hurry down the stairs bleary eyed from the damn tears that he doesn’t deserve. I hear him coming after me - he even manages to weakly grasp my arm a few times - but I shake him off easily.

“Claire, please don’t do this. I love you!”

As I cross the threshold of the front door, I turn to give him a final glare and immediately wish I hadn’t. He looks so pathetic standing there in his boxer briefs, his blue eyes pleading, his broad shoulders slumped. He looks sorrowful, anguished, defeated. A twinge tugs hard at my heartstrings. I almost want to wrap my arms around him and assure him that everything will be okay and all is forgiven.

Fuck that. I am done being taken advantage of. Done letting men hurt me and wipe their feet on me like I’m a doormat. How ironic that the man who taught me that I’m too good to allow myself to be mistreated is the one who has hurt me the most.

“I don’t ever want to see you again. Ever,” I snarl, and I slam the door behind me.

I’m proud that I am able to contain myself until I’m in my car and halfway down the street before I fall apart so hard I have to pull over. I wrap my arms around my middle unable to contain the wails and wracking sobs that shake my body.

Chapter 8 CLAIRE

Knock, knock, knock.

Two months have passed since my heart was shattered into tiny shards. I have been doing the best I can to put one foot in front of the other and try to piece together a normal life for myself. Whatever normal is.

The first few weeks were crazy. I went straight to a hotel hoping for anonymity; it might have worked if Blonde Bimbette hadn’t run right to the media with her story. I’m not sure what exactly her story is because I avoid tabloids, newspapers, TV and anything else that might flash a picture of myself, Jett or Blondie Boobs like I’d avoid the plague. I only know that once her story was out, I had reporters following me everywhere.

I rented myself a small apartment, and refused every cent of the money that Jett tried incessantly to give me. I did accept the gift of a body guard for the first few weeks until the paparazzi lost interest and somebody else’s gut-ripping heartache was the gossip of the day. Slowly but steadily, day by day I’m trying to learn to survive without Jett. I look around at my tiny apartment hastily and carelessly furnished with thrift store finds. It’s not the mansion I’d been in, but it’s okay.

Except for all the door-knocking.

Visitors are a constant. Almost daily, without fail, there is a knock on my door from somebody new. At first it had been Jett, until the third time I opened the door to his hangdog face and dumped a bowl of chocolate ice cream all over his nice, pressed shirt. That’s when he realized what ‘stay the fuck away from me’ really means.

Now, it’s delivery people of all sorts- fruit baskets, chocolates, flowers, singing telegrams, and even a singing strippergram, which set me off so badly I think my shrieking may have broken the poor guy’s eardrums. At the very least it certainly traumatized him for future jobs. Jett has been going through every trick in the book to try to get me to talk to him, but I won’t budge. There’s no point. I will never be able to forget the sight that greeted me the fateful afternoon I swung open our bedroom door to find him and Busty Bimbo. No, what good would talking do? It could only serve to dig the knife deeper into my gut.

I’m not ever going back.

Knock, knock, knock.

I open the door to a young, nervous-looking woman with black curls and flawless brown skin. “Look,” I say, holding up a hand before she starts talking, “Whatever it is, I’m not interested. I don’t care if he’s sent me a literal boatload of puppies and kittens, I’m not taking him back.”

The woman frowns. “Excuse me?”

“It may sound crazy to his star struck fans,” I continue, “but I really just can’t deal with him. I’m in no great hurry to file for divorce, but between you and me, that’s a forgone conclusion. I mean, everybody knows what happened. I’m certainly not going back.”

“Ohhhh,” the woman says softly, a look of recognition dawning. “No, no, that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to talk to you about Aaron Belson.”

My stomach drops. Aaron? Why the hell would she want to talk to me about Aaron? Surely Aaron wasn’t trying to win me back too. I’d heard through the grapevine that he’d moved on and found himself a new punching bag.

The woman looks over my shoulder at my sparse apartment. “May I come in?” she asks gently.

“Please do.” I step aside and lead her to the small living room area of my studio apartment. I’m suddenly wondering if Aaron landed himself in lockup again and sent this poor woman to beg bail money from me. Maybe he’s unaware that just because I’m still married to Jett doesn’t mean I have access to his bank account.

“What’s wrong with Aaron now?” I ask.

“Well, nothing’s wrong with him,” she says bitterly, “and that’s the problem. My name is Nina Childs. I started dating Aaron right after you left, and well… things have gotten…” she turned her head to hide the tears starting to fill her eyes, but I saw them. I had been exactly where this woman was and I could read her like a book.

“They’ve gotten bad,” I finish quietly.

“Yes. To put it mildly.”

“Did he hit you?”

Nina looks down at her hands. “Yes. But the problem is, no one believes me because I didn’t report it right away. My lawyer thought we’d have a better case if I was able to find other women to testify as a character witnesses. I’ve tracked down a couple women but neither are willing. I can’t say I blame them, really. They’re both afraid to open a can of worms that might bring Aaron back into their lives. You’re my last hope, but I also figured you’d be the perfect person. I know how much he put you through.”

“You do?”

“Well, sure. I think a lot of people have put two and two together and figured out the truth. I had my suspicions, but it wasn’t until Aaron admitted it all to me one night when he was drunk.” She shakes her head, and looks at me sadly. “I knew he was an asshole, but I still can’t believe he made you believe your husband cheated on you.”

I frown. “Made me believe… What are you talking about? My husband did cheat on me.”

Nina’s eyes widen. “You don’t know?” Her fingers fly to cover her open mouth. “Oh goodness, I thought you’d realized it by now. I knew from the tabloids that you and your husband were estranged but I thought maybe you split up over something else. I didn’t realize you didn’t know the truth.”

“Truth?” My stomach is doing somersaults. A burning sensation starts in my chest and radiates to my extremities as scorching anger pulses through me. I can feel my cheeks reddening with the coming outrage and for once, it seems to be directed at the right person.

“That girl, the blonde, was an old friend of Aarons,” Nina confesses. She must see the fire in my eyes, because she gradually scoots farther away from me. “She’s a porn star now. Aaron paid her to drug Lang at the publicity shoot that morning, then take him home and wait in bed with him until you came home to find them. I don’t know what he hoped to gain from the whole thing. Maybe he thought you’d come running back to him. Maybe he just wanted revenge for the fact that you left him.”

“So that whole thing was just a scam? It was all set up by Aaron?”

“Yeah.” Nina is chewing her bottom lip. “I’m so sorry. I really am.”

I stride to the door and snatch my coat off the hook. “Sorry to rush you out of here,” I say, thrusting an arm through the sleeve and crouching to lace up my boots, “but I really need to find my husband.”

“Sure, I understand.” Nina stands and eyes me apologetically. “I just need to know - will you testify?”

I smirk and narrow my eyes at her. “I’ll testify,” I assure her. “You’re damn right I’ll testify.”

Chapter 9 JETT

“Would someone please get the fucking door?” I bellow. I’m busy in the kitchen making burgers for my ungrateful brothers, and the doorbell is driving me out of my mind.

“Cade, get off your ass and do something.”

Cade sighs. “Fine, yeah.” He tosses his phone down and saunters out of the kitchen. I hear the door open, followed quickly by Cade’s voice saying, “Aw, shit.”

“What’s wrong?” I call, but I’m met with silence.

For Christ’s sake, that kid can’t do fucking anything right. Even answering the door is some fucking chore for him.

I know I’m being too harsh on Cade, but I can’t seem to control myself anymore. I’ve been in a shitty mood for two months straight. Ever since I woke up to Sexual Harassment Barbie.

Ever since Claire left.

I’d spent most of my time that wasn’t devoted to training and work sitting in my house and brooding. At first, I tried to drink until I felt numb, but I could never get numb enough. I knew better than to frequent clubs, or return to my previous lifestyle, and even if I didn’t, Larry was there to constantly remind me.

I’m aware that I’m in a depressive slump, but I’ve been trying desperately to pull myself out of it. I arranged for my brothers to start coming around once a week for dinner, and even Larry and his kids came by a couple times to break bread.

Not my best idea ever, maybe. They kind of hurt more than they help sometimes. After all, they really liked Claire, everyone did, and even though they don’t say it aloud, no one believes that I woke up naked in bed with a stranger. Hell, if I didn’t know better, I wouldn’t believe myself either.

I flip the final burger patty onto a plate with the rest. Cade hasn’t returned, and I can’t hear a peep from the front foyer. Cade damn well better not be talking to a reporter. At first they were everywhere, and I had to have security monitor the front gate. After a few weeks, when nothing much happened (as in no naked chicks- no chicks at all actually), the media dwindled, and I cut back on security. I know the paparazzi, though and there are those who are nothing if not unethical. They’ll climb fences, twist words, use telephoto lenses.

I growl in frustration, and toss of my apron, the apron I bought to make Clair giggle that says “Rub My Meat” on the front. I storm to the foyer.

“Fuck’s sake, Cade, what’s wrong?” The moment I appear, Cade turns and looks at me with a sheepish grin, then ducks away into the living room, and I find myself face to face with my wife.

“Claire,” I whisper. She smiles coyly and a tingle rushes through my entire body. My limbs suddenly feel like jello.

“Hi, Jett.”

She looks thin, like she’s lost some weight, and there are dark circles under her eyes, but she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. There’s so much I want to say to her right now. I want to tell her that I’ve missed her. Hell, I want to tell her that her leaving feels as though my hearts been hacked out of my chest with a chainsaw. I want to say that I’m sorry. I’m sorry that even though nothing happened that night with Bimbo Barbie, I’m sorry for ever being the kind of man that would make her suspect something might have. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to hurt her and everything I’ll ever do in the future, and that if only she’ll let me, I’ll promise to spend every second of my life devoted to her and never, ever give her a reason to doubt me ever again.

“It’s… been a while,” I say dumbly.

“It has,” she agrees. “One might say it’s been too long.”

“Yeah. Yeah, one could say that.”

She takes a step towards me, pushing her hair behind her ear. I want to touch her, to hold her, but I’m afraid to do anything to scare her off or make her leave. A pink tinge creeps up her cheeks.

“One might also say that your wife was unfair to you,” she states, “and that perhaps your wife should have given you the benefit of the doubt and believed in you, or at least heard you out.”

“Do you think one would be right about that?” I ask, my heart is racing in my chest. Is she saying what I think she’s saying?

“Yes. One would definitely be correct about that,” she replies. Her eyes fill with tears. “Especially after your wife found out that her ex-boyfriend set up the whole thing just to punish her for leaving him.”

“Wow.” I shake my head. I can’t stop the huge shit-eating grin from spreading over my face. “One could say that my wife’s ex-boyfriend is a real shitstain.”

“Yeah.” Claire is grinning slightly now, too. “Your wife should have known better, she was a real bitch to you.”

“Hey, don’t talk about my wife that way,” I scold her softly.

Claire smiles gently, and a lone tear trails down her cheek.  “I miss you, Jett.”

I wipe her tear away with my thumb, “I miss you too. So, so much, Claire.”

“I know. I got the cards.”

We both laugh.

“Think you can forgive me?” she asks, twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

I pull her towards me and wrap my arms around her. We settle against each other, content in the feeling of our bodies side by side once again. I kiss her forehead and sigh happily.

“There’s nothing to forgive, beautiful. I just want my wife back” I tilt her chin up and press my lips to hers.

How could I hold a grudge against the woman I live and breathe for?

THE END

THE VAMPIRE’S MUSE

STORY DESCRIPTION

April Hanley is a loner and newly appointed curator at an art gallery. When she finds and procures a rare Dobronravov masterpiece, strange things start to occur.

First, she experiences bizarre dreams of a mysterious stranger that plague her and leave her body writhing in wanton desire.

Very soon after, reality becomes intermingled with her dreams, and her life takes a crazy and dangerous turn. She finds her life threatened by an unstable leather-clad dominatrix. She goes head to head with a couple of rival motorcycle gangs. And, she comes face to face with the handsome stranger from her dreams who throws her on the back of his decked-out, futuristic Harley.

But, for April, the most jaw-dropping revelation is when she’s told her handsome stranger has been deeply in love with her.

For centuries.

Chapter 1

The damn Jeep was making a rumbling sound, or a rattling sound. It was hard to tell. Whichever it was, it all of a sudden escalated to an almighty bang that shook the whole thing like an earthquake. I had to fight with the wheel to keep it in my hands. The Jeep swerved to the left, but I brought it back to the right. It swerved to the right, but I brought it back to the left. Then, when black smoke started filling the interior, I wrestled it off to the side of the road.

When I got out, more smoke was wafting slowly from the tailpipe. A quick stoop down in my four hundred dollar heels revealed a thick, dark liquid puddling under the engine. I blew out a long slow breath. Well, I’d had Carleton, my Jeep, since I’d left for college over ten years ago, but it looked like it might be time to say goodbye to the old guy.

Damn. Things had been going so well today, too. I’d had another great day at the gallery which led to Owen, the owner, asking me to dinner. ‘Purely professional,’ he’d said. Fortunately, he wasn’t lying.

“April,” Owen’s voice had taken on a serious tone near dessert, more so than he’d had throughout the main course. I glanced nervously around the restaurant. It was a classy place in the wealthier part of town where Owen lived. There was low lighting, soft piano music, and the waitresses were all gorgeous and dressed in black cocktail dresses. Not what you’d find at your average TGI Fridays which was my typical ‘going somewhere nice for dinner’ destination. The thing that had been worrying me since we’d arrived was the more than one distinguished male patron hiding in a darkened booth with a significantly younger and considerably more attractive female companion. It certainly appeared to be a wining and dining spot for older men to bring younger female employees when their main goal was to see them naked. Please, don’t let that be it. I prayed. I loved my job, and would hate to lose it. I’d also hate to waste the tastiest wine I’ve ever had by tossing it in Owen’s face as I told him where he and his sexual advances could go.

I took a constitutional sip of wine.

“April,” Owen said again, “I know you’ve only been with us…?”

“Just under a year,” I helped him out. The wrinkles that were creasing his forehead under his thinning salt-and-pepper hairline as he struggled to remember, vanished in gratitude.

“As you say. And I notice that, although you’re friendly with the staff at our gallery, you don’t seem to have forged any close friendships.”

Not that it was any of his business.

“If it’s important to my career, Owen, I’ll get some, I promise,” I joked. The truth was, the guys at work were all pretty much gay and catty and the girls were all bitchy and catty. I was in favor of creating a friendly work environment but I really never felt the need to invest myself too deeply. Without meaning to sound superior, the office games and gossip just felt just too shallow and childish to me. Besides, I couldn’t see myself becoming besties with someone whose deepest intellectual conversation was centered around The Real Housewives of New Jersey.

“Quite the opposite, in fact,” Owen smiled again. “It’s precisely because of your uniqueness that I think you’d be the best choice for curator when I retire next month.” I almost choked on my wine. “Well, that, and your superb work in securing the long lost Dobronravov painting last week.”

So, a fantastic day that was now ending with a little hiccup, but then again, it was extremely likely that a new car was now warranted. I needed to figure out where I was so that I could call for help. I could see the lights of the freeway but I couldn’t hear the noise, meaning I was at least a half-mile away. Looking around, there was a dark, empty-looking factory across the street, a motel with a faulty green neon sign in the opposite direction from the freeway and about the same distance, and a patch of yellow scrub grass behind a tall, chain link fence beside me.

Stranded in the semi darkness under a dim orange streetlight was more than a little creepy. My heart rate was elevated. It was past ten at night and I was breathing hot, fetid air in one of the worst parts of San Antonio’s South Side. Not to mention I was dressed in my favorite short, black mini-dress that hugged my butt and was oh-so-good at lifting my bust line up just where I liked it to be. Oh, yeah, and my coveted four hundred dollar heels.

Alright, well, I guess I’d have to describe my surroundings to AAA since there weren’t any road signs anywhere. I grabbed my cell out of my small clutch purse, and Fuuuck! Dead. At that moment, I saw a light that looked like it might be heading this way.

Please be a cop. Please be a cop.

I repeated like a mantra. But, my hope disappeared as the roar of a motorcycle engine grew louder and nearer. I thought about getting back in the Jeep, but before I could reach it, the motorcycle engine crescendoed to a deafening level and then abruptly ceased.

“Having some trouble, little lady?” The man’s voice was high-pitched and mocking. It was accompanied by a squawking, earsplitting woman’s cackle. My mom always taught me never to judge a movie by the DVD cover, I think, but the sound made my nerves jangle and I was trembling slightly as I turned around.

The man striding towards me was of average height and build, but his expression gave him the honor of having the evilest face I’d ever seen in my life. It contorted his forked beard, and scars rippled up extending over his battered and bald head.

Behind him, sitting on a big black chopper, was a scrawny girl of maybe twenty-five with straggly, greasy blonde hair falling limply around a face that might have been pretty once. Drugs? Whatever it was, something had ravaged her looks, and she held the same sinister visage as her partner. Her self-confidence appeared to be unfazed though. Her stocking tops showed clearly from under her short leather miniskirt, and her breasts were crammed into a tiny bikini top and barely hidden by her patched leather vest.

“It… it just banged and shut down,” I managed to say sounding, at least I thought, mostly calm. As he continued towards me, his eyes ran slowly up and down my body. I saw his vest was similar to the girl’s. The left breast bore the name ‘Rectum’. Before I had time to process his lovely moniker, he walked right past me.

“Sounds just like Darla over there,” he grinned, earning a middle finger from his girlfriend. “Well, let’s just see what we can do, shall we?”

He opened the Jeep door, popped the hood, and then walked around front to shove his head under it. A small sense of relief flooded me. Maybe mom was right about those DVD covers. I read the name ‘Angel Dogs’ from the gang patch on the back of Rectum’s vest, and I thought maybe he was my unlikely savior.

“You see here?” he called, beckoning me over, his head still in the bowels of my motor. I stepped cautiously towards him, still trying to save my heels. Suddenly, a vice-like grip clasped my left arm at the same time as thin, sharp fingers coiled around my throat. Before I could release a sound, Darla’s piercing screech split the night and Rectum’s eerie, sneering grimace emerged from under my hood.

“Now here,” Rectum brought his face so close to mine I could almost taste his fetid breath, “is where you’re completely fucked.”

Chapter 2

My legs turned to Jell-O. If Darla didn’t have such a firm grip on me, I’d have been on the ground. I tried to scream, but her iron-grip tightened, choking off any sound from escaping.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Darla hissed in my ear, “you’ll get your chance to scream. We’ll make you scream.” She let out another high-pitched cackle and then ran her wet tongue run down my cheek.

“I love a lady with some curves,” offered Rectum as his gaze scanned my body. He reached his dirt smudged hand forward and, with seemingly no effort, ripped the front of my dress clean open, right down the middle, exposing my bra-covered breasts.

“Yeah, she’s hot,” gloated Darla. “Fuck her blue, Recky-baby, then it’s my turn.”

I tried to fight. I struggled, trying to cover myself up, but Darla was unbelievably strong. There was nothing I could do but pray that I would come out of this relatively unscathed. Not much hope of that though.

Rectum’s filthy fingers trailed down my stomach. He was going to tear the rest of my dress away, and my underwear too, no doubt. He was practically drooling from his disgusting pie hole when he abruptly froze. His head turned sharply to gaze down the road, back the way they had come. That’s when I heard it too. The low rumble of another motorcycle.

Tears welled at the back of my eyes. More Angel Dogs coming to join the party? So, now I was to be passed around like a rag doll? I wouldn’t be able to withstand this.

“Hear that?” asked Darla, sounding worried.

“Ah, fuck!” snapped Rectum. He grabbed me by the shoulders and casually tossed me towards my Jeep.

I landed hard and painfully. My head smacked the metal of the wheel well and bounced off. Face down on the sidewalk, all I could hear for a few minutes was white noise. I was too stunned to move, so I lay still, somewhere between sleep and consciousness. Sounds of the world around me started to penetrate, but it all seemed surreal, like the sounds were background noise from a TV.

I heard another motorcycle pull up but it sounded different from a normal cycle engine. It was bassier, brassier, ballsier. There were angry voices after the engine died, then grunts, screams, maybe cloth tearing, and something like moist ripping and cracking that reminded me of pulling a drumstick off a roasted chicken. My head throbbed and my eyes were so heavy. Someone must have kicked a bucket over. There was a quick splash, and thick warm liquid pooled around my bare legs before I finally succumbed to sleep.

I was standing in a field, my breath misting on the air. Even though my dress was ripped open to the navel, I didn’t feel cold. My feet, now one bare and one clad in a dirty, scuffed, four-hundred-dollar heel, made a soft crunching sound through white snow that blanketed the ground. Oddly, my skin still felt the radiating warmth of an August night in South Texas.

There was fencing around the field, and beyond that, a long way off, a city skyline. Not a tall, angular, modern skyline, this was lower, with church towers, dome-shaped building tops, and smoke stacks. It reminded me of an old European city from two or three centuries ago. London? More like Vienna, Budapest, or St Petersburg.

As I turned, the view was similar in every direction until I spotted a figure in the distance. Just a small dark shape, but definitely a man with a hat and cane. I glanced to my left for a brief moment, and when I looked back, he was standing at arms distance before me. I could see little of him except a long black cloak and a plain black tricorn hat. His cane, penetrating the snow and held at a relaxed angle in his gloved right hand, was also black, except for the head of a hunting dog intricately carved out of silver on the handle.

He lifted his head revealing a pale face with penetrating but sad gray eyes, a smooth, firm chiseled jaw, straight nose, and full lips. He looked about my age, but his eyes held the look of lifetimes of wisdom. He was incredibly handsome by any standards and I felt my body reacting accordingly.

As his gaze met mine, I’m certain I noticed a glimmer of happiness cross his face, but only for a moment. His eyes travelled the length of me. Up and back down. I tried to speak, but I couldn’t open my mouth. My mouth was disconnected from my brain and just wouldn’t do what I commanded. The man trod a slow circle around me. I wanted to turn with him but, again, my body was unwilling to follow the commands of my brain. I sensed him close behind me, felt the soft leather of his gloves on my shoulders.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, his mouth very close to my ear, the words dripping sweetly like honey. My stomach twisted as he gently slid the fabric off my shoulders, allowing it to drop to the snowy ground. I did manage to eject a small gasp this time. I tried to cover myself, except again, my body would not comply. It almost felt as though my body longed for this man. It made no sense. He continued circling me slowly, stepping around to face me again, his eyes absorbing all of me.

My heart was racing and my throat was dry. My tongue felt like it was stuck to the roof of my mouth. I should have been cold standing in a snow covered field in my underwear. I should probably have felt embarrassed standing in my underwear being ogled by a perfect stranger. I didn’t though. What I felt was a craving, a fierce hunger for this man. My body was crying out for his touch.

What in the world had me yearning for a stranger in period clothing? The whole thing was insane. I don’t care how sexy he was; still crazy.

He leaned in close again, and since my body wouldn’t move, I could do nothing but breath him in. He smelled like fresh apples and blackberries, with a warm undertone of cinnamon. Delicious.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” his gently voice held a faint eastern European accent. Delicately, he ran a gloved finger along my jaw, down my neck, and tenderly along the inner curve of my breast. I felt my breath catch, my nipples harden, and a tingling begin even lower. I was desperate to speak now. If I had the capacity, I knew I would beg him to take me. That’s when the snow began to thaw.

No, not the snow, the whole field was melting away. I couldn’t see him anymore. The cityscape of St Petersburg, or Vienna, or wherever, was also gone. I looked down and saw blood. It was splashed over my legs.

“Miss? Miss?”

I was sitting slumped against my jeep with a pretty young girl, a paramedic, shining a light in my eyes. I tried to ask her what she wanted but my question emerged as a coughing fit instead.

“Got her!” she called out to someone else, then slipped an oxygen mask over my nose and mouth.

“Do you know your name?” the girl asked me.

“April,” I told her, my voice was dry and crackly and muffled by the mask. Blinking the spots out of my eyes, I could see I only had one shoe on and it, as well as most of my feet and legs, were covered in sticky dark red blood.

Chapter 3

The thought that I was doused in my own blood was quickly dispelled when my vision returned and I was staring at Rectum. His face was frozen in a wicked grimace, leering, wide-eyed at me, only now upside down, his head attached to his shoulder by only a thin flap of skin. His chest had been ripped in half in a rough line, running from just under his neck to his groin. Ripped. Not cut with a sword, not bitten by some wild animal, but ripped. As in torn. Like a paper doll. A wave of nausea shot through me as my eyes followed the pool of blood around his body to where it extended in rivulets towards my legs bathing me in the sticky, metallic smelling liquid.

Darla was next to him. She may have fared slightly better, but it’s all relative. Her chest was gone. A gaping hole going right through it. Whatever had been inside, lungs, heart, ribs, was just… gone. I had to look away before I vomited.

The girl, who was not actually a girl, but a small-statured female EMT with short red hair, intense light blue eyes, and a name badge that read ‘Emma’, draped a blanket over me. There were questions. I don’t remember the questions, but they must have been all the usual questions asked to someone with a head injury. I don’t remember my answers either, but after the Q and A, I was helped into the back of an ambulance.

As I sat on a cot in the back of the ambulance, a tall, African American man wearing a cheap but well cared for grey suit climbed in next to me and introduced himself as Sargent Gouldon. More questions.

After listening to my story, the Sargent let out a breath, looked around the crime scene, and shook his head.

“And you’ve no idea how your would-be assailants ended up mutilated?” he asked.

I drew my oxygen mask away from my face for a moment. I was exhausted, nerves shattered, dress torn, and I just wanted to go to sleep and pretend tonight never happened.

“Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Death Squad?” I offered.

He didn’t smile.

“Look here, Miss Hamilton,” he growled angrily, “I’m just trying to make sense of this mess and figure out why it’s not you lying there raped and murdered, instead of these two bloody messes!”

“I should be more grateful?… Is that what you’re saying?” I asked. “Or is it that you resent me for making your job tonight so much more difficult?” Hell, I guess I couldn’t blame him for being tense, I was completely baffled as to what might have happened and I’d been here the whole time.

“Shit, I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said, calming down. “Of course, I’m very glad you’re okay, and I’m not suggesting you are anything other than a victim. Please, while the incident’s fresh in your mind, I’m just asking you to try and remember if anything else sticks out. Anything else that might have happened before you lost consciousness.”

“I’m sorry, Sargent,” I told him.

“I’m sorry too,” said Emma, my EMT savior, “but you gotta hop out now. She needs a head CT and lots of rest. If you want any more answers you’ll have to find her back at the hospital.”

The tiny woman almost shoved the large cop out the doors and we got underway. Over the gentle rocking of the ambulance and the hum of the engine, I wondered why I hadn’t told him about the other motorcycle? I may be a smart-ass, and even a pain-in-the-ass, but I wouldn’t normally break the law or intentionally hamper an investigation. It seemed obvious now, if unbelievable, that the noises I heard where Darla and Rectum being ripped apart. But what type of creature could do that and ride a motorcycle? Hell, maybe Gouldon was better off not knowing, for his sake. In case he found it and it didn’t want to come quietly.

At the hospital, I was poked and prodded and tested up the wazoo. In the end, the diagnosis was that I had a bump on the head, a little gravel rash on my knees and arms, but no internal injuries or bleeding in my brain. It was still thought that I had a concussion, though, so I was going to have to spend the night in the hospital.

Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, there wasn’t anyone to inform of my ‘accident’ and subsequent hospital stay. The gallery would be closed so I wouldn’t be expected at work tomorrow, and with the exception of a cousin living somewhere in Arizona, I had no family. My career had been my life for as long as I could remember, leaving no time for friends or relationships. As pitiful as it sounded, my job was all-consuming. I tackled each piece as a personal quest, and I was driven to find and obtain certain works of art. The Dobronravov had been a pinnacle to me. I had been obsessed with it for four years, and was prouder of my successful efforts to procure it than I had been about any other piece.

I was checked into a room, given a ridiculous gown and a toothbrush, and finally, at about three am, a young nurse told me to rest. Finally. The thing is, even though the adrenaline rush had worn off hours ago and I was beyond exhausted; I couldn’t seem to sleep.

My mind wouldn’t quiet down. At first, the focus was what could have happened to me, had my attackers not been killed. I think I slept a little, having nightmares about that, but, soon enough my brain slipped into thinking about the dream; who was that guy? It had all been so incredibly vivid. How was he able to exert such power over me? How come I felt so attracted to him?

I opened my eyes in the snow-covered field again. I was aware that I must have dreamed myself back into it, but it wasn’t the same. This time, I was wearing an outfit from centuries ago. A long, sunflower yellow dress that fanned out at the hem, covered my shoulders and slashed straight across my breasts which, thanks to the corset I’d been shoved into, were pushed up and very full.

“And there’s my beauty,” I heard his voice again but, this time, I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. My pulse started racing. I now understood why those Regency ladies were always fanning themselves.

“Who are you?” I managed to say this time.

“You know who I am,” he whispered back. I felt his soft lips graze the skin between my neck and shoulder. I felt the fine hairs on my arms stand straight up, and a tingling in my nether region. “You love me,” he continued. I could feel his fingers loosening my gown, until he deftly slipped it off my shoulders and it fell to the floor. My corset stopped just below my generous bosom, which was now only concealed by a thin, silk chemise, while my legs were hidden beneath a petticoat. I had a dim recollection that drawers were out in this period, so I took a nervous swallow and assumed that, aside from some thigh-high hose, I was naked under there.

“I do?” I sighed, my mouth going dry as his fingers moved lightly across my back. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against his shoulder, my breathing quickening further as his fingers traced under my arms and moved easily under the loose fabric, to stroke delicately across the sensitive skin of my breasts.

“You do,” he confirmed, a low moan escaping from my lips as his soft fingertips brushed my achingly hard nipples. “Just as I love you and have been waiting for you for centuries.”

His hands eased my chemise down, exposing me, but I didn’t care. My loins were burning, a throbbing desire emanating from my core. I knew I wanted to feel him inside of me. I turned around to face him as fast as I could. I threw my arms around his neck and pulled his face to mine. His hands wrapped around my waist, pushing my petticoat to the floor. The cool breeze tickled my bare backside, but I was too overwhelmed with yearning to be ashamed of my exposure.

His lips descended over mine. I could feel his hands sliding over my stomach. His tongue parted my lips and I met its velvet touch with my own. The sensation brought another low moan from me and my feminine juices were dripping, preparing me for his joining. I was aware this was a dream, and I wanted him. It was the hottest dream, and sadly, the most action I’d had in… forever.

Just as suddenly, though, he pulled away, stepping back. I stood before him, naked but for the corset still laced around my body, breathless and trying to figure out what I’d done wrong.

“I’m sorry,” he said bitterly. He looked away from me. “I’m afraid I may have put you in danger.  I fear she may find you now.” I was about to ask what he meant, who’s ‘she’, and why’s she looking for me, but in a heartbeat his hand raised and he snapped his fingers.

When I opened my eyes, I was in my hospital bed.

Chapter 4

Soft breathing from the shadows by the door told me I wasn’t alone. City light filtered through the blinds, and I waited for my eyes to adjust to the room.

“Who’s there?” I called out quietly. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I could make out a pair of steely gray eyes and a row of bright, shining teeth below them, but it was probably my imagination. I could definitely smell a sweet, sexy perfume. Miss Cherie, by Dior, if I wasn’t mistaken.

“Hello, kitten,” came a teasing, sultry reply. A tall woman stepped forward into the half-light. She wore a tight leather bustier lashed to firm breasts, a fashionable, soft leather jacket and matching leather pants. Her face was beautifully sculpted and meticulously, but heavily made-up, pale skin, high cheekbones, and an aggressive, short, spiky hairstyle.

“Who are you?” I asked quietly. Why I was keeping my voice low, I didn’t know.

“My dear, my name is Valentina,” she explained casually and took a step closer. Every move she made was seductive but the look on her face said she could easily devour me. “My, but you are pretty. A little full-figured for my taste, but you might make a pleasing distraction.”

Okay, that was a strange thing to say, and very creepy. Something was definitely not right with this woman. She took one more step before I decided I’d had enough. What the hell was making me so attractive to sociopaths lately? I scooted away from her, slid out of the bed, grabbed a nearby drip stand and pointed it at her, threateningly.

“The fuck do you want, ‘Valentina’?” I yelled this time. I thought it might be good to make some noise and perhaps alert a few people.

Calmly, she replied, “I wanted to see what the fuss was about, kitten. I wanted to see if I could turn his obsession with you into a more advantageous situation for myself.” She reached the bed and mounted it, crawling slowly across it ass up high, like a stripper looking for tips. “Then, after your dream, I wanted to warn you to LEAVE MY SASHA ALONE.” She shouted the last part. I slowly backed up until I bumped against a cabinet, wondering who the hell Sasha was. Valentina kept skulking towards me until her stomach was pushing against the end of my drip stand weapon. “Now, I want to simply rip out your heart and drink from it.”

She moved like lightning. One simple upswing and she knocked the stand from my hands, somersaulting it across the room to land with a loud crash. She thrust the same arm straight out before her, grabbing me by the throat. I couldn’t scream; I couldn’t breathe. In a blur, her face was right next to mine. I felt my feet leave the floor as I stared into her wild, gray eyes.

“A pity,” she growled, “We could have enjoyed such pleasures, the three of us.” She made a sad face then pulled back her other arm, ready to eviscerate me. I had no time to pray, no time to plead, no time to even close my eyes before she swung.

Only, nothing hit me. The window beside me imploded instead. I felt a force rush in, and he was there. The man from my dreams.

He was different than in my dreams, though. His hair was styled differently, like some urban outlaw. His skin was darker, his jaw stubbled, and he wore jeans, cowboy boots and a gray tank top that brought out his eyes and showed off his heavily muscled shoulders and arms, but it was the man from my dreams. He had grasped the fist that Valentina was about to kill me with and held it fast.

Her jaw clenched, her eyes narrowing in incandescent rage, she turned her head towards him. “Hey, baby,” she said angrily, “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Yeah,” he replied, all trace of the European accent gone, “I do get around.” He head-butted Valentina in the face. The woman lost her grip on me and fell back, rolling onto the bed. She sprang back up, teeth bared and fists raised. The guy put himself in front of me so he was shielding me from her. I laid a hand on his shoulder to steady myself while he moved his arm back, to keep me behind him. “April,” he said, not bothering to explain how he knew my name, “I need you to trust me.”

“Trust you? I don’t even fucking know you. AND I have no idea how you know my name. AND you just flew through a sixth floor window…” I wasn’t done with my tirade, but he cut me off before I could continue.

“The way I see it, you can stay here while she disembowels you, or you can trust me and maybe see tomorrow. It’s your choice.” Well, since you put it that way.

Valentina was looking for an opening. She feinted left, but he covered it. “Sasha, honey,” she pleaded in a sing-songy voice, “Be reasonable.”

“Val, dear,” he replied, “I think you passed reasonable about three exits back.” She growled furiously, spitting like a panther.

“Well?” urged Sasha in my direction.

“Tomorrow!” I yelled. The wind was howling through the broken window and whipping my hair into my face. “Tomorrow, please!”

He grabbed my wrist, in a grip tight enough to hurt, and jumped. He leaped backward, out of the window he’d recently crashed through, this time taking me with him. I felt a searing pain in my shoulder as we dove out of the building, and wondered how I was going to see the next few minutes, much less tomorrow.

The wind screamed past my ears, until I realized it was me screaming.

I had time to get a decent view of the lower building where we were headed, a hardware store, before he pulled me close to him. He hugged me tightly as we fell and, in spite of the cold air rushing by us, I smelled the scent of fresh apple and blackberry, with a touch of cinnamon, and I was oddly comforted.

I closed my eyes and, a microsecond later, we landed, Sasha going back-first through the flimsy rooftop, down through a shelf of sinks and kitchen cabinets, to make a pretty big crater in the concrete floor. It knocked the wind out of me but, otherwise, I seemed to be injury-free. My shoulder hurt a little.

“Oh my God!” I cried. “Are you alright? What the hell was that? What just happened?”

“I’m fine,” he groaned, pulling himself up. “Come on, she could be right on our tail.”

He scooped me up like a new bride and, before I had any time to protest, we found the fire exit. A quick kick broke the lock and we were outside. Waiting for us was a blood red Harley Davidson. It had fat tires, high handlebars, and was dripping in chrome.

“Get on,” he instructed me.

“Fucking wait,” I ordered. He froze.

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what?’?” I asked, trying to remain calm. “I just had a sex dream about you, was attacked by someone who I can only hope was your sister, was pulled me out of a sixth floor window, fell through a Home Depot, and now you’re asking me to ride off on a motorcycle with a throbbing, dislocated shoulder? Is there any part of that I shouldn’t be questioning?”

He considered this for a moment. “Give me your arm,” he said. I did. “Sorry, this is going to hurt a little.” He pulled and I cried out. Just like that, he’d successfully reset my shoulder.

“Umm, thanks,” was all I could think of to say.

“Anything else before you get on?” He asked.

I just shook my head.

He swung a leg over his bike, fired up the engine and I noticed something. It was ballsier, brassier, and bassier than any other motorcycle I’ve heard. “By the way,” he shouted over the noise of the bike, “that was a Lowes we fell through, not a Home Depot.”

As we roared off, Sasha shouted that we needed a safe place to go. I offered my apartment, which he overruled. Somewhere with a lot of exposed iron would be ideal. I directed him to the gallery. It would be closed and empty all day, and the postmodern design of the building meant a lot of the structural girders and ironworks were on display. It was way downtown from the Medical District but his Harley was incredible and we flew there in minutes.

I didn’t have my keys. Hell, I was still in a hospital gown; I didn’t even have my underwear. But, when I took him to the small staff entrance, it took him seconds to deftly pick the lock and open the door for me. I hurried inside to disable the alarm, before wandering into my office and collapsing on the big black leather chair behind my desk.

Sasha sidled around my doorway, allowing himself to just barely enter the room, and casually leaned against the wall.

“April,” he said, tentatively, “you must have…”

“What?” I snapped at him. “Sasha, is it? What must I have Sasha?” I suddenly felt exhausted. More exhausted than I’d ever felt before. And cranky, no, pissed. “I don’t think you have any clue what I think, feel, or need right now.” I was raising my voice with every word. “I must have questions? Damn right! I must have no idea what’s happening? Fuck no! But right now, I need a minute. Please, just… just… get the hell out of my office.”

For a second he looked incensed, he ground his jaw and narrowed his eyes. Then, just as quickly, his expression softened and his big, beautiful steel-gray eyes held a touch of regret. He nodded his understanding and left, quietly closing the door behind him.

I leaned back in my chair, swiveling around to look at the Monet print on the wall behind me. The lights in the gallery were still off, but there was just enough dawn streaming through the office window to throw a light silver hue over the room.

What kind of world had I just discovered? Guys projecting themselves into my dreams to feel me up, an S&M dominatrix attacking me, moving faster than any known creature, jumping out of a sixth-floor window without a scratch? And, the most horrifying of all, human bodies literally ripped to pieces after threatening me? I was certain now that it was Sasha’s motorcycle that arrived before I blacked out last night, which meant it must have been Sasha that saved me from Rectum and Darla. And, if that were true, who the hell was he? What the hell was he, and just how dangerous could whatever he was be?

Chapter 5

I dug out my spare clothes- jeans and an old Mötley Crüe t-shirt. I’d kept a change of clothes in the bottom drawer of my desk ever since I’d ruined a nice pantsuit by having to do some unpleasant physical labor at the gallery a few months back. Too bad I didn’t have the foresight to keep a spare bra and panties in my office, but who knew I’d be in here changing out of a hospital gown. I guess the shirt was tight enough to mostly keep my breasts under control and the jeans without panty lines made my butt look good. I sat in my desk chair to slide on my socks and tennis shoes.

Now that I was a little calmer, I regretted yelling at Sasha. The man had saved my life twice, and in return I screamed in his face. Nice. He was hot, too, and unless I concentrated on stopping it, my mind kept wandering back to that dream. Standing naked in a snowy field, my skin shivering with desire under his soft caresses. Sasha was exceptionally handsome by any standards, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to him. Any red-blooded female would be drooling over his toned, heavily muscled body and dark, dangerous good looks. I couldn’t help but wish my dreams would have played out a little longer. Just a little, just long enough for me to… well, dreamland and reality were different worlds entirely. Actually, right now the only similarity was that they were both crazy and both implausible.

I walked back out into the gallery’s main space intending to try to make things right with Sasha. He deserved an apology. The early morning light made it easy to navigate the gallery and I quickly found him in the far northeast corner of the building. I didn’t creep up on him, but I hadn’t called out to him either. I just watched him. He appeared to be in some sort of trance, his arms spread out to his sides like he was praying.

A moment passed and his arms dropped. I was leaning against one of the exhibit walls observing.

“It’s an old trick I picked up from a shaman in Namibia,” he said, without turning around. I didn’t realize he knew I was there. “I’ve warded the gallery to conceal us. The shaman are able to do it to hills and mountains with a high ferrous metal content when they needed to create a private and secluded sanctuary. Which is why I was hoping to find a location with ironworks.”

“Seriously,” I smiled at him, “You were doing magic?” I rolled my head back and let out a loud laugh. I hadn’t meant it to sound quite so harsh, but my fatigue was taking its toll on me.

He turned to face me, only he wasn’t smiling. Clearly but quietly he spoke, “After everything you’ve seen, in this and the dream world, you still deny that there’s more going on than your previous view of reality allowed?”

“I didn’t say that,” I told him, “And, about the dreams. Who gave you permission to invade my head and feel me up?” It wasn’t that I’d minded the feeling up or anything, but I didn’t like the patronizing way I felt he was talking to me now.

“Always the spitfire,” He grinned, showing perfect white teeth. “You did.”

“I did?”

“It was a dream, your dream. You had total control over it. Anything that happened in your dream, you wanted to happen. Are you complaining?” he stalked slowly towards me, his body moving with a surprising grace for a man so muscular. His smile was captivating and his fierce, hooded eyes moved up and down my body lasciviously. The way he looked at me, I may as well have been standing naked. The raw hunger in his eyes felt like a heated, deliciously wicked, and arousing assault. “Let me show you something.”

He clasped my arm and without breaking his stride, ushered me to the other side of the exhibit. There hung the Dobronravov I had procured last week, the one that led my boss Owen to offer me a promotion. It was a nude, a sexy, curvy, dark-haired woman was looking just away from the viewer, standing slightly bent forward, brushing her hair. She’d turned from a mirror and was laughing with carefree abandon.

It was an exquisite work. Somehow, Dobronravov had been able to inject such joy and passion into the woman’s face. It looked almost as though a photo, a snapshot of the woman, had been taken at the moment her lover had said something that made her laugh deeply and genuinely, and with great affection.

I loved this picture, which was why I’d put several years into getting the original here. I loved her for the happiness she projected; I loved the painter for capturing it for the world. Every time I looked at it, I felt at peace, content. This picture, of all that I’ve studied and worked with, elicited more powerful emotions from me than any other.

“Do you remember that I told you that you love me already?” He was standing behind me, his hands on my shoulders, his head bent next to mine whispering softly into my ear. I could feel his solid chest at my back. My heart raced, blood suddenly rushing through my veins. He’d said it in my dream. My mouth was too dry to speak, so I simply nodded. “It is the truth. You do know me. Sasha is short for Aleksander. My name is Aleksander Dobronravov. I painted this picture.”

“That… that’s … not possible,” I stuttered, looking back at him in shock, “Aleksander Dobronravov painted this picture nearly 300 years ago…”

“Yes, I did,” he replied calmly. “I was alive 300 years ago. 400 years ago, in fact. I am an immortal. A vampire.”

I shuddered in horror. Fear coursed through me. I followed my gut reaction, my fight-or-flight response, and pushed him away.

“Get the fuck outta here!” I screamed, backing up against the wall. “That’s bullshit! Impossible! You’re a psycho!”

He remained still, his hands raised in a plea for calm. “I’m sorry, April. I didn’t mean to frighten you, and I would never hurt you. Consider everything that’s happened this evening. Please. Valentina, the fall from the window. Does my confession at the very least make some sense out of these events?”

Angry and weirded out as I felt, he had a point. I slid down the wall to sit on the floor and tried to control my breathing. I was light-headed, but I’d be damned if I was going to pass out in the same room as a vampire.

“Valentina?” I managed to utter.

“She’s also a vampire,” his face held a pained expression. “Valentina is… Valentina is a long story, but I owe you some sort of explanation, so I’ll make it brief. I was second in the coven in San Antonio. My ‘father’, for want of a better term, Bernhard, is the head of the coven. There had been a great rift between ours and another coven, and to try and mend fences, he arranged for Valentina, the ‘daughter’ of the head of the Austin coven, and me to marry. It’s a lot of political maneuvering, but I agreed because Bernhard has always been good to me. Okay?”

I nodded. “You said ‘was’ second?”

“Yes. That’s where things go sideways,” he tried a faint smile. “I quit. I left. Ran. Call it what you want, but I now have both covens and a really pissed Valentina after me. She’s always been a bit unstable, but until very recently, I hadn’t fully realized the extent of her insanity. She certainly doesn’t handle rejection well.”

“Why did you leave?” I asked. My fear and anger had retreated as I got caught up in his tale, and I had a feeling that deep-down I already knew the answer to my question.

Sasha didn’t respond right away. He seemed to be weighing his answer. He scanned the room, then closed his eyes. “I left because I finally found you, April.” My heart sped up again. “I told you I’d been waiting for you for centuries. I have. I’ve been in love with you for hundreds of years. I’d almost given up hope, but miraculously, I found you again. When I did, I refused to lose you because of some arranged marriage, however obligated I had been when the arrangement was made. Selfish, I suppose.”

“Found me again?” I repeated, making it a question.

He moved so fast I couldn’t see his motions until he’d lifted me off the floor and held me in front of the Dobronravov painting. The movement made me a little dizzy, but his touch was careful and he hadn’t hurt me.

“Look at her, April,” he said, determination in his voice. “Really look. Don’t you see it? Don’t you recognize her?”

I looked. I looked as hard as I could until, gradually, it came to me. The body, the hair, the face, it really was almost like a photograph.

“It’s… that’s… me…?” I whispered.

His hand on my wrist stretched my arm out towards the painting. My fingers brushed across the surface of the paint and the world dissolved away.

Chapter 6

Smells of good food cooking and rich wood wafted through the air along with the sounds of children laughing and playing. They were my children. Sunlight streamed in through the open window warming my bare skin, and I felt joyously happy. I was head over heels in love.

My eyes began to make out shapes but a haze covered my vision and everything was moving slowly. I could see my own form reflecting back at me from a large wood-framed mirror. My hair was different, a little darker, and I was naked, as though I had just bathed. Thick wooden beams supported the plastered walls. Leaning my head back to brush my long dark hair, I saw similar beams forming rafters in the roof. It didn’t take an architect to figure out this was a very old house.

“Do you have it yet?” I heard a voice say, then realized the voice was mine.

“A moment more, dear one,” it was Sasha’s voice I heard replying. “I swear to you, if Almighty God and his angels were to gaze down upon your beauty at this very moment, they would weep tears enough to require a thousand more Noahs to build a thousand more Arks.”

My heart skipped a beat. I paused, my hairbrush frozen in midstroke, and turned. Sasha’s hair was longer and bound back with a black ribbon. He was naked from the waist up, and wore breeches and square-toed shoes, He was smiling, relaxed, with a sketch pad on his knee and a quill in his hand.

“That’s blasphemy, you realize?” I smiled at him. The more I watched him, the more enraptured I felt. My skin prickled at remembrances of his tender touches, my breath quickened as I re-imagined his passionate kisses, and an aching throbbed at my core as I recalled the thousand ecstasies I’d relished, each time he’d burst his seed inside me.

“Then let me be struck down rather than hold my tongue and fail to tell you how radiant a creature you are,” he laughed. I laughed too, knowing the deep and genuinely passionate union of pure love we shared with one another. That, it occurred to me, was the moment that he’d painted. Everything he’d said was true. We had enjoyed the deepest love centuries ago.

I dragged the brush from my hair and took a step towards him, but the room started spinning again. I lost the hazy shapes altogether, the children’s laughter grew quieter and more distant until the lights dimmed and I was back in the grey gallery, staring at a Dobronravov portrait… of myself.

Tears streaked my cheeks. Tears for the lost joy of a life I could feel but not remember. I turned to look at him. His beautiful, intensely loving face was almost exactly as it had been in the vision. He placed a hand on my cheek, softly brushing away a tear. I shivered at the touch of his fingers against my flesh.

“I’ve been in love with you every day since the day we met, almost three centuries ago,” he whispered, his mouth suddenly only a hair’s width from my lips. “I’ve been waiting since your death to see you again, hold you again.” His lips grazed mine, agonizingly softly. I remembered the feeling of loving him. I realized now why I couldn’t connect with people my own age, and why no man ever seemed to hold my interest for very long. My soul, or something, still belonged to him, still ached for him and, now, so did my body.

His kiss intensified, the touch of his soft, full lips on mine made my knees tremble. His strong arms wrapped around me in a fierce but tender embrace. A sizzling heat coursed through me. My body reacted to this man as though it had found its missing limb and would not accept separation from him again. My hands reached up to his neck, and then my fingers buried themselves in his thick, dark hair. I pulled his mouth harder onto mine. I needed him. I was feeding a deep longing passion; devouring his mouth with an intensity I’d never known before, until we had to break apart to breathe.

His hand grasped the side of my t-shirt and Sasha tore the material clean off me, as easily as though he were ripping a page from a book. My heart was overtaken by the onslaught of physical desire. My breasts tumbled loose and with my hands still tangled in his hair, I pulled his face forward into my exposed chest. I threw my head back as his lips found the delicate skin under my breasts, his tongue stroked my areola, and his teeth gently attacked my pebbled nipples.

Each touch, each nibble, and each caress forced me to lean into him farther, the sensations travelling a searing path to my center. My pussy throbbed, its juices overflowing in a desperate cry for its mate. My hands left his hair and fumbled their way to his jeans. I stroked across the front of him feeling his huge, hard bulging desire for me. As I rolled my fingers across his trapped erection, he hissed sucking in air and his member twitched under my touch. I managed, with quivering fingers to unfasten his jeans and release his thick, lengthy erection. It sprang out, stiff and eager. I wrapped my hand around it, and as I gripped him, his face rose from my cleavage.

His eyes rolled back and he emitted a soft moan. He was as desperate for me as I was for him. The realization struck that I had a power over him at least as strong as the one he possessed over me. I pushed him back against the wall, knocking down a famous Gainsborough print. His jeans fell to the floor and I dropped to my knees in front of him.

For a moment, I was mesmerized. Hypnotized by the long, marble-hard perfection of his cock. It pointed straight at me, every bulge and ridge just where it should be and when, looking him straight in the eyes, I took the velvet tip of him past my lips, it pulsed urgently against my tongue, feeling almost as good there as it would elsewhere in my body. Almost.

I drew more of him into my mouth and he cried out. I wanted him inside me so badly, but it was also tempting to have him like that, to drink down every last drop of him, seeing the look on his face as he poured his very life essence into me. I had the power to do that and I knew he wouldn’t be able to stop me. But, no, I decided to do that later. I wanted our bodies to merge, I needed him to fuck me.

I sucked him for a second or two more, reveling in the sounds of pleasure he made, then released him. I grabbed his hands and stood up, then placed them around my waist.

“I need you so badly, Sasha,” I whispered to him.

I didn’t need to say more. I hardly felt it. I just giggled like a schoolgirl as he ripped the jeans right off me, leaving me standing naked before him. We came to each other and he lifted me off the floor as though I weighed nothing. I wrapped my legs around his butt, an ecstatic pulse shooting through me as I suddenly felt the engorged tip of him probing at my slippery entrance. I didn’t have to wait any longer. We pushed our eager sexes together and, in an instant, we were joined completely, the pleasure centers of my brain on total overload as I felt him slide slowly and perfectly inside me, filling me to capacity. I threw my hands around his neck and held on as my body went limp. Each thrust seemed deeper, like he was growing bigger, and each thrust pushed me closer to climax. I felt my orgasm approaching almost as soon as he was inside me, storming relentlessly towards me with each drive of his cock into my tight hole until, like a sudden detonation in my loins, it was on me. I screamed with each penetrating thrust, my nails clawed his neck and back, and my pussy tried desperately to cram as much of him inside me as there was. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed through me, so strong, so intense, I thought I would die from sheer pleasure.

But still he kept fucking me, his glorious dick pushing me farther and farther into oblivion before finally, as I really believed I could take no more, he froze, gasped, then swore as I felt him explode deep inside me, a shooting pumping releasing volley after volley of hot seed right into my core.

We both let out long, desperate moans as the full, satisfying feeling of him emptying himself into me died away. Then, we kissed passionately, sweat dripping off our bodies and we tried to remember how to breathe.

Chapter 7

“I died?” I asked softly. My head was resting on his smooth, hard chest, my fingers idly brushing over his firm abs. We had borrowed a white dust sheet from an ugly Pop Art sculpture made by a pretentious hipster in New York, and wrapped it around us. The afternoon sunlight was now peaking in, shining brightly around the edges of the blinds, and, so far, we’d made love from the Renaissance period to the Romantics, through the Impressionists, and right on into the Postmodernist movement. Each time, we took wild and fierce possession of one another until we reached the pinnacle and climaxed in exhaustion. Yet, it was only moments before the brewing passions within bubbled over again we desperately devoured one another once more.

“Of course,” replied Sasha, only a hint of regret in his voice. He had his arm around me and was absently stroking my bare back. “I painted that in 1729, in St Petersburg. Your name was Anna. You lived a long life with me, dying in your eighties. We had five children, twenty grandchildren, and more great grandchildren than I can remember.” He looked down at me and grinned widely at the memory.

“You were a vampire? Why did you stay?” I whispered, still looking up into his eyes.

“We were together nearly sixty years. Our love never faltered. Why did I stay? It was the happiest time of my existence. We both knew from the start that you would die and I would live on. We’d made our peace with it, but I always hoped…”

“Hoped what?”

“I transferred a little of my soul into this painting as I captured that moment. I knew you would be born again, that’s just the way things work, and I hoped that in time, the piece of me in this painting would find its way back to you. The dreams that you were having were our souls reconnecting. Those dreams called me to you, they let me know where you were. You may not remember, but I’ve been in your dreams since the painting came to your gallery.”

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” I giggled, punching him lightly in the stomach.

“It’s been over two hundred years,” he smiled. “It was tough to work up the courage to talk to you after that long. But when you got into trouble last night I had to do something.”

I laughed and threw my leg over him, sitting up to straddle his hips. I let the sheet fall away and watched his eyes travel over my breasts, down my stomach, and lower, to the soft skin between my thighs. That look of desire crept onto his face again and I felt his insatiable cock begin to grow hot and hard once more, nudging its way along the curve of my ass as he firmed up.

“Two hundred years, huh?” I teased him, reaching back and delicately stroking the underside of his growing member. “And there’s been no one besides me?”

“I didn’t say that,” he replied, then took in a sharp breath and closed his eyes as I wrapped my fist around the head of him. “But, yes, there’s been no one but you.”

I stopped teasing him. “For real?” I almost squeaked.

“I loved you. With all my heart. I still love you. I’ve always been in love with you,” he whispered, looking me right in the eyes. “I never wanted anyone else.”

I was shocked. Elated, but shocked, and a little sad for the suffering he must have endured. Two centuries with no one? I couldn’t begin to imagine the loneliness, the heartache. From a purely primal point of view, I can go crazy after about six months without sex, never mind two hundred years without feeling another’s touch. I bent down and kissed him passionately. I never wanted him to go through anything like that again. If I had to kiss and make love to him every minute of every day, I would.

“How did you survive?” I whispered breathlessly into his mouth when we finally came up for air.

“I had my memories,” he replied softly, his hands caressing my breasts once more. I leaned into him and felt him twitch against my butt. The dull numbness and fatigue my poor, abused pussy was feeling disappeared, instantly replaced by a need to have him inside me again.

“It still must have been… difficult,” I said, reaching back, placing the tip of him at my slick, waiting hole, then pushing down to have him slide up into me.

“Time moves differently for a vampire…” he groaned as his long, hard rod penetrated the deepest parts of me. “If there’s nothing important in our lives, decades can pass like minutes.”

I drew myself up on him, then slowly inched back down, each ridge and vein of him sending out tiny electric pulses that drew ecstatic gasps and soft moans from both of us. “What other myths are true about vampires?” I sighed, his cock slowly reaching in as deep as it could go.

“Practically nothing,” he breathed. Enclosing him, totally filled by him, I squeezed with my velvet walls, sending shivers of pleasure through both of us.

“You don’t explode in sunlight?” I asked, then bit my lip and closed my eyes as his teeth grazed my nipple.

“If we did you wouldn’t find many of us in Texas,” his voice was muffled by my chest. “We just choose to work more at night. The darkness hides us better and there are fewer humans around.”

“You’re not killed by a stake in the… heart?” I managed. There was a look of mischief on his face as he disrupted my sentence with a slight, unexpected thrust.

“Of course,” he answered, “the same way you would be.”

“Stop… playing with me,” I demanded, trying and failing to ignore his attempt to distract with small movements inside me. “Get me up to speed.” I took his wrists and pinned his arms above his head. He grinned, enjoying my assertiveness. I forced my hips down too, trapping him beneath me. It was a token move, of course. With his great strength he could probably have thrown me through the gallery wall with a wrist flick. He could do anything he chose to me, and I would be powerless to stop him. The thought sent a perverse shiver of excitement through me.

“Or what?” he grinned up at me.

“Or I’ll get off of you,” I laughed back.

“You win,” he said. “I’m immortal. I won’t age or die. To sustain this immortality, I feed on human blood, which also happens to make me strong, fast, and difficult to hurt, but not invincible. It also heightens my senses: sight, sound, smell, all to help me hunt. I’m over 400 years old, so as vampire standards go, I’m pretty strong, but there are still many who are older and stronger. A few of us, myself included, like to restrict ourselves to hunting criminals; murderers, rapists, child molesters, assholes like that. We think of ourselves as ‘Robin Hoods’ to the human race. We take what we need from them, but in doing so, we also give back by ridding them of their own undesirables. Okay?”

“What about the magic? The dreams and the warding and stuff?”

“Tricks picked up through the centuries from wizards, necromancers, shaman, people like that. You don’t have to be a vampire to do those things. It’s just knowledge that’s been lost or forgotten over time. Take Valentina.”

“Really?” I snorted. “You’re going to bring up your ex while you’re still inside me?”

“My bad. But she knew we were getting hot and heavy in that dream. Magic. And the intensity of that passion made it easy for her to zero in on you, which meant she could also get to me.”

“What about the sex we just had?” I was suddenly overtaken by fright. I slithered off him and scooted down beside him, pulling the sheet back over our nudity.

“In the dream it was magic, here it’s just natural. Don’t take that personally,” he gave a weak smile. He sensed my fear and was trying to put me at ease with his somewhat feeble attempt at humor. “The warding won’t keep anyone out; it just makes us invisible to anyone using magic to search for us.”

He sat up quickly. I was no expert, but he looked to me like a cat that suddenly heard a sound it didn’t like. “Of course,” he continued, almost to himself, “if a vampire were to just stroll by, the warding couldn’t stop him from hearing or smelling us, either.”

He leaped up fast.

“What is it?” I whispered, too scared even to appreciate his toned body in the half-light, naked and glistening with our mingled sweat and juices. He didn’t look at me. He seemed to be monitoring the air around us for any sound or smell out of place. Without warning, he took off toward one of the gallery’s east windows. An instant later, the window exploded in a shower of glass as another biker dove in through it.

Without pausing, and so fast I could barely follow him, Sasha ran at the guy like a linebacker. He grabbed the biker’s head and kept running, twisting it off as he passed. The decapitated corpse dropped to its knees, spraying dark arterial blood across several important Expressionist works, then slumped to the ground lifeless.

Sasha stopped by the smashed window, holding the head like a football. He turned, tossed it away, and then charged back in my direction, moving in a blur of speed. Thinking the worst was over, a smile of relief crept slowly over my lips. That’s when I felt cold metal at my throat.

“Stay very still, kitten,” I heard Valentina’s playful voice at the same time I smelled Miss Cherie.

Sasha stopped five paces from us, frozen in his tracks. I squirmed but a sliver of sharp pain, followed by a trickle of warm blood running down my neck forced me to be still.

“Hurt her and I’ll rip you into pieces,” Sasha snarled, his face contorted like a wild animal.

“Hush, sexy,” I could hear the smile on Valentina’s lips. “You have more important things to worry about.”

“Look out!” I screamed as a huge biker with long, stringy black hair appeared behind Sasha and clubbed him to the ground. Two more arrived, a man and a woman, and they started kicking Sasha’s prone body as Valentina hauled me backwards.

I cried his name, tears running down my face, but the last thing I saw, before a bag was yanked over my head, was Sasha struggling, his panicked eyes watching me get dragged away. As they were beating him, he mouthed “I love you” to me. I didn’t get the chance to say it back.

Chapter 8

My hands were zip-tied behind my back and I was thrown into the back of a vehicle. A van, I would guess by the echo of the doors as they slammed and the cheap, cold vinyl flooring I landed on. I was still naked, aside from the hood over my head, and I should have been hysterical with fear but all I could think of was Sasha. The look on his face before the sack was thrown over my head. I needed him to be okay. I prayed he would find a way to survive.

Lying face down on the floor of the van, my ass in the air, I felt soft fingers on the back of my neck. They stroked tantalizingly slowly down my spine and I wanted to retch in revulsion and fear.

“I warned you, kitten,” Valentina’s mouth was suddenly right by my ear, which meant someone else was driving the van, “I warned you to stay away from my Sasha. Now, look what chaos you’ve caused.”

“What are you going to do?” I spat from under the cover, trying to sound defiant.

“Now, kitten, there’s a question,” She sounded amused and I’m pretty sure she licked her lips. “Let’s face it, I could do pretty much anything I wanted to you right now, which includes some things you might like and some things you definitely won’t.” Her fingers reached the base of my spine, paused, then tickled gently over the top of my ass. My body automatically tensed in defense. “For now, though, I’m afraid you’re more valuable alive, unmarked, unharmed,” she let out a sigh, “And no fun.”

“In that case,” I ventured, as cocky as I dared, “can I get a jacket, or can you turn off the AC or something. I’m freezing.”

Surprisingly, Valentina took off her leather jacket and draped it around me. She even sat me up against the van wall. I thought it best not to engage her too much, as simple questions like “Where’s Sasha?” and “Where are you taking me?” received more and more petulant replies. I believed her when she said I was valuable unharmed, but I also believed that she was insane and unpredictable and that too much pushing had the potential to seriously devalue me.

We drove for hours. The hood let in just enough light for me to determine that night had fallen before the van finally stopped. I heard muffled voices outside, but little else until the back doors were flung open. My hood was yanked off and my senses bombarded. Rock music, shouting, roaring, laughing, motorcycle engines, glass breaking and at least one woman having really loud sex. I smelled meat roasting, fire burning, leather, gasoline, and trees. In the seconds it took for my eyes to adjust, I was tugged away by the arm.

From what I could tell, I was in the middle of some stereotypical biker party. Something I’d only witnessed through the television. We were somewhere in the woods. There were bikes everywhere, a lot of mean looking guys and gals in denim and leather drinking beer, bonfires burning, barbecues cooking, but here and there were some things I’d never seen on TV. Or anywhere else.

Over in the opposite corner from where I was heading, a blonde girl of about twenty-five was leaning forward on the back wheel of a big Harley trike. Her firm, perky breasts were exposed where she’d pulled down her tank-top and her tiny mini-skirt was hiked up to her waist. She was grunting out loud moans of pleasure as a bald, bearded, man-mountain fucked her relentlessly from behind.

Not ten feet away from the occupied couple, I saw a scared kid, no more than twenty, thrown down by a tall, greasy haired biker chick. He tried to get back up, but she grabbed his shoulders, bent over and bit his neck. Thick blood spurted from him, splashing the ground, coating the biker chick’s face and drenching her t-shirt, but she kept her mouth on the wound as they both fell to the earth. My blood ran cold and I shuddered and had to look away.

Had I just witnessed any of the things that were about to happen to me? I couldn’t think. I just silently repeated to myself, “Sasha is okay, Sasha is alive,” and concentrated on trying to hide how freaked out I was. Soon enough, we reach our apparent destination and stopped.

Two males sat leaning against separate motorcycles in a small clearing of bikers, with four tall, burning torches marking a square around them. One had an enormous belly and arms like tree trunks, a bald head, and a long dirty-blonde beard. The red on black name badge sewn into the left breast of his vest read ‘Preacher’. He barely registered my approach. Instead, he was listening to a scrawny biker with black hair tied up in a hairband, who was kneeling in front of him whining some excuses.

The male one was more in shape. His long dark hair was mostly covered by a red and gold bandana, and his tanned leather-like skin wrinkled dramatically around his eyes and mouth. He had a sexy young blonde sitting on his knee, who seemed pretty uninterested in her surroundings, but he didn’t take his steely-gray eyes off me from the moment I came into view. The badge on his vest said ‘Bernhard’.

Preacher held up one giant, meat hook of a hand and the scrawny guy stopped bleating. “You, Ratchet, know the rules,” came Preacher’s voice. His laconic delivery had all the urgency of an iceberg. “You steal a brother’s kill, that brother decides your punishment. He also gotta keep in mind it’s your third time getting in trouble for this particular offense. What you say, Idaho?”

A tall, broad-shouldered biker standing by the torch nearest Ratchet looked up. “End him,” he said firmly.

Preacher searched the crowd, a smile widening on his face when he spotted Valentina. “Val, honey…” he began. I felt Valentina stiffen behind me.

“Perhaps,” interrupted Bernhard, finally moving his fierce eyes from me to Preacher, “this being a celebratory evening and all, we maybe shouldn’t be ending brothers tonight?” He kept his expression even as he spoke.

I saw a flicker of anger in Preacher’s eyes before he said, smiling, “Appreciate the sentiment, good buddy, but Hogs will deal with Hog business, Dogs with Dog business.” I had no idea what that meant, until I saw the patch on Ratchet’s back said ‘Hell’s Hogs’. There was clearly no love lost between the two leaders. They were being cordial, but the tension was high.

“Understood, brother,” offered Bernhard, looking back to me. His staring was making me really uncomfortable, not the least because Valentina’s jacket on my shoulders totally failed at hiding any of my lady bits. Still, it was my face he focused on.

“Val,” repeated Preacher. Valentina seemed to click to attention like a Gestapo officer. She handed me off to someone I couldn’t see, then moved, catlike, over to where Ratchet was still kneeling. She stood just behind Ratchet before, suddenly, a look of pure glee appeared on her face. She pulled his head back, punched her fist into his chest, and pulled out his heart, almost too fast for me to see.

There were some uncomfortable noises, a couple of groans, and a few cheers, before Ratchet’s lifeless body collapsed. Still wearing her certifiably-insane smile, Valentina looked at the heart in her bloody hand. It beat once, despite the torn tubes and ripped flesh hanging from it. She put one of the ventricles to her lips and, like a soda straw, took a long pull on it.

Her face turned sour and she tossed the heart over her shoulder, before hacking and coughing. “Ugh, he was foul,” she spat. “I did him a favor.”

Preacher laughed and tapped on his knee, beckoning her to sit down.

“Did you get her alright, baby-doll?” he asked. She smiled like a little kid with her favorite uncle and gestured my captor to bring me forward.

“What’s this?” Bernhard sounded nearly angry. “We don’t treat honored guest this way.” He got up, forcing the blonde off him, and moved behind me. I was shaking. He lifted the jacket off my shoulders. I heard what I assumed was a switchblade open, then my heart leaped into my mouth as he cut the zip-tie binding my wrists.

“Is that the best idea?” inquired Preacher.

“She can run or fight if she wants to,” Bernhard replied. “Regardless, she won’t get far.” Unexpectedly, he held out the jacket for me to put on properly. I zipped it up, feeling grateful to be finally semi-covered again. Okay, so I was still only a low branch away from flashing everyone my business, but it was an improvement.

“So, this here’s the little human that stole your boy away from my beautiful girl,” Preacher made it a statement, not a question. “Speaking of boys, where is the groom, so we can get his started?”

“Right here!” my heart jumped for joy in my chest and my knees went weak at the sound of his voice but, as I turned to see Sasha push his way through the crowd, I cringed at the horrible bruises on his face. He was also carrying his arm painfully. Then it hit me what had just been said.

Sasha was here as the groom.

Chapter 9

As he strode defiantly into the small lit square, I, like everyone else, was watching Sasha closely. He was dressed in his jeans, dark t-shirt and a leather vest with his name stitched into the left breast. He did look beaten and hurt, but he still held an air of confidence and strength around him. And, he still looked sexy as hell. His eyes moved between Preacher, Valentina, and Bernhard as he moved, but not once, not for an instant, did he look at me. I thought he was going to walk right by me like I didn’t exist.

To my relief, he drew level with me and turned in a flash, taking me in his arms and kissing me fiercely. I felt giddy, light-headed, and happy, despite our situation. Sasha was alive. There were groans and mocking wolf whistles from the crowd, and I’m sure I heard Valentina curse and spit, but everything quickly melted away as his lips pressed against mine, our mouths opening in unison to allow our tongues to come together. My skin was on fire with the electricity of it, the sensations making me suddenly very aware of how naked and exposed I was under the oversized jacked.

I broke off the kiss and held him close, our mouths close to each other’s ears.

“Nice outfit,” he whispered. I didn’t know how he could make a joke at a time like this, but I loved him for it.

“Thank God you’re alive. I was so scared,” I sighed back at him.

“I’m here now,” he breathed back, “I won’t let harm come to you.”

“If you’re done?” Valentina had a sharp, sarcastic tone in her voice. Sasha’s face turned fierce and he rounded on her violently, taking a threatening step forward.

“If you touched her, I’ll…” he started to snarl.

“You’ll do nothing, boy!” Bernhard shouted over him. “You really think attacking Preacher’s daughter is going to lead to anything except all-out war between San Antonio and Austin? You’re here to marry her and seal this treaty.” Sasha stopped, his jaw clenched, his fists opening and closing. His eyes flicked to Bernhard. “Trust me, the only way your mortal survives this night is if you keep your word and marry Valentina. Right now.”

Valentina couldn’t help looking over at me with an entitled, superior look on her face. I guess, vampire or not, a spoiled bitch is still a spoiled bitch. Then I spotted something and kicked myself for not seeing it sooner. The patch on the back of Sasha’s vest. It was the same as about half the bikers here. It said ‘Angel Dogs’. It was the same as Rectum’s.

“Sasha,” I whispered, hoping his heightened hearing could pick my voice up. “Those bikers you killed last night, the ones who attacked me. They were vampires.” Without facing around, he lowered his head slightly. I got the impression he was trying to tell me he knew that already. Of course, he did. Heightened sense of smell. Not only were they vampires, they were Bernhard’s vampires. “You can’t trust him!” I shouted. He paused for a millisecond, then turned to me, not the slightest trace of shock or surprise in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, April,” he said, “I have no choice.” Whether he was doing it to save me, whether he’d just changed his mind about he and I, or whether he’d been lying to me all along, it didn’t matter. I didn’t matter why. All I knew was that I loved him so deeply, my heart and soul belonged to this man and now I was going to witness him being married to someone else. I could feel my heart splintering into tiny fragments. I fought to stop the tears running down my cheeks.

“But,” he continued strangely, “You really do look good in that jacket.” He patted the lower left pocket of his own vest and turned towards Bernhard.

“Oh, don’t cry, kitten,” teased Valentina as she took her spot next to Sasha. “Come, you can be my maid of honor.” Her loud mocking laugh pierced my eardrums as I was walked over to her left side. I had no more strength to protest. It didn’t appear that I had anything left to fight for, so I numbly obeyed.

The two gang leaders debated for a second before Preacher deferred to Bernhard, letting him perform the ceremony. “All yours, good buddy,” he said, magnanimously, and ambled over to join congregation behind us.

The words Bernhard spoke didn’t even register in my brain. I shoved my hands in the jacket pockets and kept my head low, praying this would be over soon. I was consumed with bone-deep exhaustion.

Somehow I was brought back to attention when Bernhard said the part about anyone having just cause speaking up. I thought, fuck it and figured I’d get in one last grand-hurrah to piss everyone off. I opened my mouth to speak, and the word was on the tip of my tongue when Sasha said, “I do.”

Both Bernhard and Valentina stared at Sasha in disbelief. There were groans and clucking noises behind me, but I was sure I heard Preacher let out a quick snort of laughter.

“You want to repeat that, son?” said Bernhard ominously. He wasn’t expecting an answer.

“I have just cause,” declared Sasha. “I love only one woman.” I couldn’t contain my smile as he pointed at me, “I’ve loved her for centuries. You knew that, father, and you attempted to have her killed.”

“You didn’t exactly leave me a choice,” Bernhard yelled back, his voice booming, “I couldn’t risk this peace treaty falling through just because your mortal lover appeared out of history. How long do you think you’ve got to spend with her anyway? Fifty years? You’re a dumbass…”:

“It’s still fifty years more than you’ll have,” said Sasha softly. His arm darted like lightening, reaching behind his back and under his vest. His movements were too fast for me to follow, but I realized that he’d drawn a pistol and fired. Bernhard moved too, diving out of the way in a blur. But, Sasha had counted on that. He’d fired ahead of Bernhard and the bullet caught him in the face, and he quickly fired twice more into Bernhard’s chest.

Still turned away, he didn’t see Valentina drop into a fighting stance. I knew she was going to attack Sasha from behind and only had a heartbeat to react, but I was ready, palming the small knife Sasha had slipped into my jacket pocket when he’d kissed me. Channeling as much fury, strength, and hate as I could muster, and by this point I had bucket loads, I stabbed Valentina in the back, easily penetrating her flimsy tank-top, and plunging the blade into her heart. Withdrawing it, I stabbed her again, and I kept stabbing. I couldn’t afford for her to turn around, so I stabbed her as she froze in shock, stabbed her as she fell, and stabbed her as she lay on the ground until my hand was slick with blood and I couldn’t hold the knife anymore.

I saw Sasha kick over the nearest torch setting Bernhard’s body on fire, then turn to me. His eyes widened as two huge hands came around my chest pulling me off of Valentina’s lifeless form.

“That’s enough, little human,” came Preacher’s slow, deep voice as he lifted me clean off the ground. “And stop waving that pea-shooter at me, if you want your mortal to live, boy.”

To my surprise, Preacher sat me gently back down and let me go. I ran to Sasha and threw my arms around him. It took me a second, but I realized there were a lot of angry noises coming from the crowd, yet no one was rushing us. I also knew that I had just killed the only remaining gang leader’s daughter and I had no idea what the punishment for that might be.

“So,” I managed breathlessly, “Now what?”

“Way I see it,” Preacher seemed to be thinking out loud, “This here makes you head of San Antonio, boy. I believe you just staged a coup. And, I’m guessing that if I were to end you now, there’d be no choice but to go to war. Believe it or not, I don’t want that.”

“What about her?” asked Sasha, waving his gun at Valentina’s limp body.

Preachers massive bulk edged closer. “I reckon you might have done me a good turn there,” he said in lowered tones. “Hundred and fifty years and she ain’t never grown up. Was always just a bit too much for me to handle.” I stifled a laugh and Preacher shot me a disapproving look. “My gift to you two, disappear. I hear of either of you even setting a foot in Texas, it’ll be your last.” He made a gesture and someone tossed a set of van keys to Sasha.

“Go,” Preacher grumbled, “‘fore I forget what a big softy I can be.”

Sasha swung me up into his arms, ran us to the van I was brought in, and helped me inside. We were both grinning ear to ear.

“Are you really totally naked under that jacket?” he asked with a smile once we were belted in.

“Seriously?” I scolded him. “Is now really the time?”

“Okay,” he teased, “I’ll give it a few minutes.”

An hour later, I felt as though we’d put in enough distance that I could breathe again. We were headed east towards Huston and then on to Louisiana. I sat curled up on the seat with my legs under me and snuggled against Sasha’s side. He had his arm around me as we drove and I’d opened my jacket so he could softly stroke my breast.

“We’re not really leaving San Antonio permanently, are we? I have a life there, a job,” I complained.

“Your job got pretty trashed this afternoon, I’m sorry to have to tell you,” he said. He turned and looked at me. “Anyway, being a mom is going to be a full-time job.”

“What do you mean, vampires and humans can’t have children, can they?”

“We had five in the eighteenth century. But they’re always born mortal.”

“And who says,” I sat up to look at him now, “I’m ever going to have kids?”

“You do,” he gently placed his hand on my stomach. My heart skipped a beat.

“How do you know?” I croaked.

“Magic.”

We drove on in silence for a few more miles, neither of us able to keep the smiles from our faces.

“What about your painting?” I remembered suddenly, not wanting to leave it behind.

“We don’t need it right now,” he smiled, “and don’t worry, when the time comes, it’ll find us both again.

THE END

DRAGON KEEPER

STORY DESCRIPTION

Kaitlyn is a small-town girl with big dreams of making it in Hollywood. But, it seems her voluptuous body and soft curves don't mesh with the bleach-blonde, plastic-boobed, stick-figure girls at auditions.

Brett is one of the hottest producers in the movie industry. His success is not at all harmed by the fact that he’s also a mysterious and enigmatic recluse. Everything he touches turns to gold.

The truth is that as successful as he is as a man, as a dragon he’s failed. He is losing control and it’s only a matter of time before he must be “put down.”  When Kaitlyn is hired as a caretaker, Brett’s instantly drawn to her full body and luscious curves, but he knows it's not safe to get close to her.

Kaitlyn soon learns that her employer’s chiseled jawline, dark hair and bedroom eyes don't make up for his mood swings and outlandish behavior. She's not sure what the wants from her, but when she sees whips, chains and shackles, she knows that it can't be good.

Chapter 1

I was dreaming. I knew it was a dream because I was on stage holding the Oscar I'd just won close to me as I smiled graciously for the cameras snapping pictures. One of the camera men threw a rose towards me, and I grabbed for it, but missed. It hit my arm and stung me. "Ow," I complained. Then another rose was flying towards me, pelting my arm. "Hey!" I shouted. Suddenly, I was bombarded with roses. They hit my skin and scraped me with their thorns.

I opened my eyes.

Colin sat in the chair opposite me, a dinner mint in his hand. He threw it at me and missed, picked another one out of his bowl, and this time struck me square in the shoulder.

"Hey! What are you doing?" I hissed.

"Throwing mints at you," he said, aiming for my eye. I ducked.

"Yeah, I got that, but why?"

"It's entertaining. I can't go out for entertainment since I had to throw in extra to cover your rent this month, so this way, you're making it up to me."

A mint hit my head, made a soft thud, and bounced off, landing on the floor. "Colin, I'm sorry." A ducked away as another mint hit me square in the jaw. "Stop it! I'm looking for somewhere else to go. Believe me, ow! I don't want to be here anymore than you want me here."

He scowled at me then grabbed the bag of candies off the coffee table and refilled his bowl. "I find that hard to believe, Kaitlyn."

It had been two weeks since our breakup, and I wasn't any closer to finding a place now than I had been the night he'd dumped me.

"You could try harder I think. You haven't had a job since we got here. No wonder you're so fat. You're just lazy." A fresh round of mints flew through the air at me. Apparently Colin wasn't going to stop till I was black and blue. "It's not so hard to be an actor," he said. A mint hit my eyeball and fell into my lap. I rubbed at my eyes, which were starting to sting with tears from the peppermint. "How many jobs have I gotten since we landed here?" he asked.

"I don’t know. Several." It hurt to admit how much better he was doing than me.

"That's right." This time he popped a mint into his mouth and sucked on it. "You have as many auditions as I do, I'll give you that, but you're never gonna get anything when you're so fat. Get to the gym. That'll help a little at least. You can't do much about that nose though. I can put you in touch with a good plastic surgeon if you ever decide to take the chance." He stopped talking and squinted his eyes at me, scrunching his lips together. He looked like a toad. "God you're pathetic. What did I ever see in you?"

I was wondering that myself. Colin had never seemed to care for me very much. Ever since our first date back home in Bliss, Idaho, he'd treated me like garbage. But, when the population of your town never rose above 3,000, you didn't have a lot of choices. Besides, at least we'd both shared the same dreams of moving to Los Angeles and becoming an actor. I figured that no matter what happened, at least we'd always have that in common.

The joke was on me.

Of course, moving to L.A. had worked out for him. He'd gotten cast in some plays and bit parts in a few TV shows. He even had an agent. A real agent, not one who worked out of the trunk of his car like mine. Who would've thought six months ago we'd end up like this? Me on the couch, penniless, Colin's star on the rise.

Another mint sailed passed my ear. "Stop that," I said. "If you're so bored why don't you go fuck another one of those plastic floozies you've gotten so fond of since we moved here?"

He paused, his expression flickered a fraction of an inch before resuming its normal visage of disgust when looking at me. "You knew about that, huh?" he asked.

"Of course I did." He had started cheating on me our first week here.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?"

My bottom lip trembled. I held it back. No way was I gonna let him see me cry. "I thought it would pass."

He laughed. "You're pathetic. Anyways, I got a date. So, here." He handed me the bowl of mints. "Go ahead and fatten yourself up some more why don't you? It'll probably make your mom happy."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the fatter you get, the sooner you'll run back home with your tail between your legs. Your mom never wanted you to leave in the first place. She knows you're a loser." He got up and winked at me before going into what used to be our bedroom. I heard the shower start and knew it was safe to let the tears fall. I popped a mint in my mouth and pulled the newspaper towards me.

The want ads were a joke. A couple waitressing jobs I'd already applied for—the competition here was fierce, hotel clerk positions that wouldn't give you the time of day unless you were a model, and things that I would never consider in a million years, no matter how bad things got, like escorting. Everyone knew that escort was code for prostitute. I'd never stoop to something like that, no matter what.

I scanned the last page quickly, just to see if there was anything I might've missed. One ad caught my eye. CARETAKER: LIVE IN POSITION. No other qualifications were listed, and no other details.

"Hmm... caretaker of what?" I mumbled to myself. It was probably a trick. I'd learned one thing living in this town for the last six months—people spoke in veiled euphemisms. "Athletic" meant flat chested. "Writer" meant out of work. I assumed "Caretaker" meant sex slave, or something to that effect. I tossed the paper aside and pulled out my phone. Soon I wouldn't even have this anymore. I had enough left on my credit card for one more month of service, and then I was finished. Colin was right. I'd have to go back home with my tail between my legs.

The doorbell rang and Colin yelled, "Can you get it?"

I pushed myself up and opened the door to find a beautiful blonde with fake boobs and lips pumped full of something synthetic.

"Hi," she breathed. "I'm Leah." She was clearly trying to sound like Marilyn Monroe. I thought Marilyn would turn over in her grave is she saw this girl. Fake hair, fake lashes, fake everything. Her dress accentuated the over-plasticized nature of her body.

I might be big, but at least my body was real—and real men liked real curves. They liked women whose breasts didn't feel like rubber and whose walk had a little oomph to it when she moved. Some men did. Other men, like Colin, liked plastic Leah.

"Hey babe," Colin came into the room dressed in a towel and pushed me aside. He grabbed hold of her, pulled her to him, and licked her face like she was a lollipop. She giggled. My stomach churned. I brushed my bronzed hair over my eyes, trying to hide the disgusting sight before me.

"Come on," he said, pulling her into the bedroom. I watched in shock as he closed the door behind them.

"He's not..." I muttered to myself. No, not even Colin would do that. There are some lines you just don't cross. When your recent ex-girlfriend is still living with you and sitting outside your door, you don't bang the milkmaid.

But I had overestimated Colin again. I heard the squeak of our—his—mattress begin to pulse in a certain rhythm I knew only too well. Colin rarely varied anything in bed. I searched frantically for my headphones, but it was too late. Leah started screaming his name and moaning like she was making a porno. I assumed she'd had a lot of practice.

I grabbed the paper I'd been looking at and flipped back to the caretaker ad. I dialed the number before the squeaking began to make my ears bleed. I don't care what it is. Anything is better than this.

Chapter 2

I made my way into the Hollywood Hills. There was a great lookout spot not too far down the road. You could see all of Los Angeles and its surrounding cities. The house I was looking for must've been way at the top. I bet their view of the Hollywood sign was amazing. I crept along and turned onto a side road, then another side road, until finally I couldn't see anything except trees and the road right in front of me. I was just starting to think I'd gotten the address wrong when the trees cleared and a magnificent house stood before me.

It looked like it was three floors with a domed roof and yard so large and manicured a professional football team could have played on it. I was shocked that there were no gates or fences of any kind. I parked my car in the driveway and went right up to the door, looking around as if someone was going to jump out and arrest me for trespassing. The house was too rich for someone like me. I don't belong here.

I rang the bell and a great gong sounded inside. A minute later, the door opened and a stout, severe looking man with dark eyes and graying hair opened the door.

"H-hi," I stammered. "I'm Kaitlyn McGrath. I'm here for the interview." My voice barely squeaked out of my throat. This man was intense. If this was who I was interviewing with, I might as well leave now. I couldn't work with his critical eyes and cold presence.

"Come in," he said. "I am the butler."

I smiled and said, "Is that your name?" I thought maybe he didn't get the joke from the way he was looking at me. "You know, The Butler?" I was trying to be funny, but he didn't even crack a smile.

"No. Jeremy. O'Donnell."

"Oh." I said, feeling uncomfortable. "Okay. Jeremy O'Donnell."

His voice was warmer than his appearance, but that wasn’t saying much. I thought I detected a hint of an Irish accent, but didn't dare ask about it. He didn't offer to shake my hand, he just led me down a long hallway that felt like it might never end. He looked a bit like a zombie, standing with his back stiff and his legs unnaturally straight. Even when he walked, he moved funny.

I followed him into a great room, richly furnished and decorated with what I could only assume were priceless works of art. A giant window spanned the entire back wall of this room, letting in lots of natural light that seemed to contrast with the museum feel of the house. There was a giant pool in the backyard that could've been used to train Olympic athletes. I started to ask if it actually was used for that purpose, when another man entered the room.

This man was younger and incredibly good looking. Thirty-one or thirty-two, with deep blue-green eyes that shined like gemstones.

"Ms. McGrath?" he asked. His voice caught me off guard. It was deep and filled with rich, melodic undertones that reminded me of saxophone music. Listening to him talk was like listening to a fine instrument being played by a seasoned musician.

"Hello," I said. "You can call me Kaitlyn."

"I'm Brett Elliot. You may call me Mr. Elliot, or Sir." Then he shot Jeremy a look that made it plain he didn't want me here.

I tried to stop my hands from shaking as I pulled my resume from my bag. I held it out and took a step towards Brett—Mr. Elliot.

"What's that?" he asked, taking a step back and looking like I'd tried to hand him rat poison.

"Er, my resume?"

He signaled to Jeremy who took it from me and slid it in a drawer. I figured it was probably a bad sign when the boss didn't even want to glance at your resume.

"What is your middle name?" Brett asked.

"Um... Mary."

"Where is your family from?"

"What? Idaho." Was this the interview?

He shook his head like I'd just told him the square root of nine is five. "No, no, no, where are they from originally? Your heritage Ms. McGrath, your heritage!" His face turned red and Jeremy stepped from the corner of the room. I'd almost forgotten he was there. He cleared his throat and Mr. Elliot shot him an angry look.

"You do this," Mr. Elliot snarled and walked towards the door.

"I don't think that's advisable, Mr. Elliot," said Jeremy, stepping towards him. There was something implied in Jeremy's statement—a veiled threat that I didn't understand, but could pick up on easily enough. The man paused and, to my surprise, returned to his spot.

"Fine, continue," Mr. Elliot waved his hand in the air, cutting through it like a knife. I stood watching, uncertain whether I should leave or simply remain quiet.

"I said continue," he yelled, looking at me with a mixture of exasperation and curiosity.

I jumped. "Are you talking to me?" I asked, startled. I'd assumed he'd been speaking to Jeremy.

"Yes you, of course you. Continue."

"Continue with what? Er… sir."

"Your story," he said, as if were obvious. "Where are your people from?"

"Oh, um, my mom's family is mostly Irish. My dad's English, Scottish, and Native American. Kind of a mutt, really, huh?"

I tried using a friendly smile to cut through the ice, but he just looked at the floor. I could feel his anger flowing towards me. This was a bad environment to be in. Even if I was offered the job, I wasn't sure I wanted to accept it. As I pondered that, the memories of Colin and Leah played back in my head. One particular highlight, which I was certain to carry with me all the days of my life, was when Leah had come out of the bedroom stark naked to get a glass of water. I could smell Colin on her; it made me gag.

"How much do you weigh? he asked.

"Excuse me?" Jeremy shot me a worried glance but I checked my rising temper. "None of your business," I said.

Brett glared at me from across the room. "Tell me your height."

"My height?"

"Yes, your height. Surely you can't object to that."

"Well... 5' 5".

He smirked, "Was that so difficult?"

I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down. "Do you want to ask me about previous work experience?"

"That won't be necessary," he said. "The interview is over."

Great. Another job down the drain. I grabbed my purse and headed for the door, anxious to get away from this rich asshole.

"Do you have any questions for me, Ms. McGrath?" I paused mid-stride.

"What’s the point?"

"Well," that seemed to catch him off guard. "Wouldn't you like to inquire about salary or see the living quarters?"

Was this guy fucking with me or what? "Not sure I see the point," I snapped.

"I don't understand."

"I didn't get the job, right? Why would I have any interest in any of that stuff?"

"What makes you think you didn't get it?" he asked. His eyes began to glow. I’m sure it was a trick of the lighting, but the effect was mesmerizing, like staring into the deepest parts of the ocean.

"You mean..." I suddenly felt my cheeks growing red. "You mean I got it?"

"I haven't decided yet."

"Oh, I thought..."

He waited in silence. I could sense his irritation. "Fine then. If there is nothing more, you may leave."

I hesitated. "Well I do have one question."

"Yes, what?"

"The job is listed as 'caretaker.' What exactly would I be taking care of?"

Mr. Eliott’s eyes flashed to Jeremy. I didn't quite catch the look, but I didn't need to. He thought it was a stupid question. He turned his glowing eyes back to mine, and I felt them latch on to me. I was repulsed by his attitude, but at the same time, felt drawn to him.

"You'd be caring for me, of course." He said sharply, then exited the room before I could ask anything else.

Chapter 3

I was sitting in the waiting room of Ritz casting, squished between a loud, snobby blonde with breast implants, and a stick figure brunette with breast implants. They kept leaning across my lap to talk to each other, and I wondered why they didn't just move. When the brunette with too much makeup spritzed perfume all over me, I wondered why I didn't just move.

"Thank God," the blonde said when I got up. "I thought dumbo would never leave." She took my seat and I looked up to see them both staring in my direction and laughing. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks and turned away from them.

They were the cookie-cutter over-processed girls I saw everywhere out here. I recognized these two in particular. We all seemed to make the same rounds of casting calls and auditions, although I wasn't exactly sure of their names. I thought the blonde was maybe Melissa something and the brunette... well, didn't know and didn't care. They both had the personality of a wet rag, which was really an insult to wet rags.

"I mean, gawd, did you see her makeup? What was she thinking? Doesn't she know that peach blush went out with the eighties?"

My shoulders stiffened. Are they talking about me? I wanted to turn around and tell them both where they could shove their opinions, but I was afraid of getting thrown out of the audition. "Oh my gawd, Carri, I know, and that shirt. I didn't think you could fit a Twinkie into a crop top—and green?" She said it like I was wearing baby puke.

"I think she thought the audition was for a leprechaun role." They doubled over laughing.

I realized what they were doing. Competition was fierce out here, and some personality types (ahem… skanky bitches) liked to use bullying and intimidation tactics. Nevertheless, I looked down at my shirt. I thought it was pretty, albeit second-hand from the thrift store, but times were tough. It wasn't a crop top, either, it was just a simple blouse that showed off my cleavage and highlighted the green in my hazel eyes.

"Well, now to be fair, what can you wear when you're an ugly-ass Goodyear blimp? I mean, the only improvement would be a paper bag, right?" They burst into a fresh round of giggles and I felt my eyes well with tears. Do. Not. Cry. Usually, I had a thicker skin, but lately, it seemed like I was crying at the drop of a hat. Things weren’t going well for me, and I was quickly running out of steely resolve.

My eyes were puffier than usual from the crying and it didn't help that Colin had made it his mission to keep me up nights. His casual romps with easy women indicated an express desire to set some sort of word record for sexual conquests. I honestly thought he was doing it just to be a dick to me. Last night, the noises in his room had been so bad I'd finally left in the middle of the night and gone to Griffith Park. Sleeping on a park bench was about as uncomfortable as it sounds.

When Melissa threw a rolled up gum wrapper at me I finally lost my temper and spun around. "What the hell is your problem with me?" I snapped.

Instead of looking embarrassed, they roared with laughter. "Oh my gawd, it talks."

"Yeah, we're sorry, we thought you were, you know, 'special,' " said Melissa, making finger air quotes. "Didn't think you had a clue what we were saying."

Fresh tears gathered in the corners of my eyes, fed by fatigue and stress. I whipped my head back around to face the wall, not wanting them to see the tears spill over my cheeks. "Oh my gawd," said Melissa. "She’s crying!"

Dammit! I cursed myself for not having better control.

"It's too easy to make babies cry. Hey, honey, " Carri said leaning forward. "You're too soft for this town."

"And too big," said Melissa. Their cackles rang across the room. There were at least forty others in there with us, and they were all watching. Not one person came to my defense. Assholes. I didn't even have a friend that I could call and commiserate with. It was at that moment that I realized for the first time how truly alone I was in the world.

I hid my face in my hands and walked quietly yet quickly to the bathroom. I wanted to leave the audition, but I didn't dare. My agent might work out of the trunk of his car, but he'd gone to a lot of trouble to get me here. If I left now, there'd be no coming back. Besides, I was too strong to let two dime-a-dozen floozie-wanna-be’s run me out of an audition.

I cleaned my face up as best I could and went back into the waiting room, finding a seat as far away from Melissa and Carri as possible. They seemed to have lost interest in me while I was in the bathroom. I took a chair and pretended to be incredibly engrossed in my phone. My message screen popped up and I clicked on a new email from my mom.

Katie, when are you coming home? I talked to Colin and he says you're broke and not working. I told you moving to Hollywood was a bad idea. You never listen to me. Colin was the one good thing in your life and look how you messed that up.

Just come home already and put this silly dream of yours away. If acting is that important to you, I can talk to Minister Cromwell. Maybe you can participate in the Christmas pageant this year. Doesn't that sound nice?

You're twenty-three. It's time to grow up. Some people just aren't meant to shine. There’s nothing wrong with ordinary. Please stop running after foolish pipedreams and accept who you are.

Love, Mom

I thought that was possibly the worst, most depressing email she'd ever sent me. My mom was a master manipulator, and now she was trying to get me to move back to the town I couldn't wait to get out of in the first place. What would I do if I moved back there? Work at the library for the rest of my life? Bliss, Idaho's library had no more than five hundred books and closed at three o'clock every day. The best I could hope for in Bliss was that I'd die young and be put out of my misery.

I was still staring at my mom's email when my phone buzzed startling me so hard I nearly dropped it. The caller I.D. was blocked but I had a strange feeling I knew who it was.

Jeremy's voice rang out from the other end. "Ms. McGrath?"

I nodded, too frightened to speak, then realized he couldn't actually see me nod. "Yes?"

"This is Jeremy, Mr. Elliot's butler. He has asked me to phone you to tell you that he requires you immediately."

"Excuse me?"

"The job is yours, should you choose to accept, but you must come immediately."

I eyed the dwindling number of people in the waiting room. I was going to be called upon soon. "Er, well, I can't make it right this minute. How about five-ish? I could be there by five."

It was three now. If they called me within the next twenty minutes, I'd be able to finish the audition and make it to the Elliot estate in plenty of time.

"I'm sorry, Ms. McGrath," Jeremy said. "Five is unacceptable. Mr. Elliot requires you now." There was that undercurrent of a threat that I'd recognized in Jeremy's voice the other day.

I started to hyperventilate. I needed time to think. "Well, but, I'm not available right now."

Jeremy's voice came back cool and crisp. "It's now or never, Ms. McGrath."

A myriad of thoughts rushed through my brain simultaneously culminating in a quick but complete vision of my future. I saw Melissa and her friend whispering to each other, pointing at me and laughing. I saw my bank balance, which was currently twenty-three cents. I saw my car, on its last legs and due for an oil change, which was packed with everything I owned. The few possessions I had—some clothes and a few books—I refused to leave at Colin's anymore because I was afraid they wouldn't be there when I got back. I saw Colin, whom I knew had another date tonight. I saw myself with no sleep, no food, leaving L.A. and running back home with my tail between my legs. I saw my mom reminding me for the rest of my life what a complete failure I was.

"Alright," I said. "I'm on my way."

Chapter 4

I rang the bell and Jeremy answered. I was getting accustomed to his cold, critical eyes, but that didn't mean I was getting any warm-fuzzies from them. He ushered me inside with barely a hello and led me down the same hallway as yesterday.

"Um, where's Bre—Mr. Elliot?"

"He's resting before dinner."

"Oh." Resting? If he was resting, then what the hell was so urgent that he needed me this second? "What exactly is it that he needs me to do right now? I was in the middle of an audition when you called, you know." I was hoping to elicit some sort of apology or sympathy or something from Jeremy, but he just increased his pace. I had to hurry to keep up with him. "Can you tell me anything?"

But Jeremy either didn't hear me or was ignoring my questions. He led me to a staircase that was like something out of an old movie. White marble stairs wrapped around in a spiral, leading up to the second floor. It reminded me of Gone with the Wind or Sunset Boulevard. I followed Jeremy up the marble steps, feeling a little grungy in my sneakers and jeans.

At the top of the stairs was another long, wide hallway, carpeted in a thick, rich pile. Thick, carved mahogany doors stood at either end of the hall. The two rooms appeared to take up the entire floor. "This is your room," Jeremy said, leading me to the door on the left. "The room across from yours is Mr. Elliot's."

"This is my room?" I gasped. It must be huge inside. "Where's your room?"

"Downstairs."

Oh," I said, a little unsettled that Brett- Mr. Elliott and I would have the only two rooms on this floor. "Are there other servants here?" I asked, thinking that for a place this size there must be maids and cooks.

"Yes, but they do not sleep here. Only you will enjoy that privilege."

As he opened the door to my room, all the other questions that were on the tip of my tongue slipped away. I felt my mouth fall open in a silent "Oh." A king sized canopy bed dominated the room. It was blanketed in gold and burgundy and looked like something fit for royalty, way overly-extravagant for a small town girl who had twenty-three cents in her checking account.

"This is my room?" I asked again. "Are you sure?"

For the first time, Jeremy chuckled and a rare smile lit his eyes. "Quite sure." Then, the smile was gone and he was his old, stodgy self again.

"Please dress for dinner," Jeremy said. "Mr. Elliot will meet you in the dining hall. It is back down the stairs and to your right. If you get lost, simply depress one of the house buttons and I will direct you."

House buttons? What the hell was a house button? He started backing out of the room.

"Wait!" I shouted, spinning around. I had so few details about what I was supposed to do here. "Is there a uniform or something?"

Jeremy looked at me like he didn't understand. "For dinner," I explained. "You said I should go down and meet him for dinner right?" I was getting frustrated. I wasn't asking for a lot, but a few details about what was expected of me would be nice. "Am I supposed to serve him dinner or something?" A new thought occurred to me. Oh God. "I'm not supposed to cook for him, am I?"

I thought I almost saw Jeremy smile again, but it was either an illusion or he was so practiced at repressing his emotions that he shoved it back down effortlessly. "There is no uniform. There is only a gown. It is on the bed. You will find others in your closet. If they are not to your liking, they can be replaced. However," he hesitated, "Mr. Elliot selected that dress himself, especially for you." He started to close the door again.

"Wait, wait! I still don't understand. What are my hours?"

He looked anxious to leave the room. "You are on-call twenty-four hours a day. When Mr. Elliot needs something, he will send for you."

"Send for me how? What does that even mean? What is my job here exactly?"

Jeremy sighed and said, simply, "You are his caretaker." Then he closed the door and left me alone in a strange new world where everything seemed upside down. I bet this is how Alice felt.

I stepped further into the room and approached the bed. A stunning black dress was laid out. I hadn't even noticed it till now. I'd been so preoccupied with the beauty and grandeur of the room itself and trying to figure out what the hell job I’d just been hired for, that I'd failed to notice all the personal touches that had been placed here for me. There was makeup on the dresser, an adjoining bathroom, where I could see a huge tub and freshly laundered towels. A small jewelry box sat on the dresser, open. A sparkling emerald necklace lay beside it.

A massive walk-in closet was positioned just off the bathroom. I turned on the light and saw more clothes than I'd ever owned in my entire life. I quickly flipped the light back off, my heart starting to pound a little too hard. I wasn’t stupid, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that something wasn't right here.

I looked back at the dress on the bed. I didn't know much about clothes, but I knew that this dress was not something bought off the rack at JC Penney. I stretched out a hand and touched it dress carefully. It was soft and smooth, very expensive looking. I noticed a tag at the top of it. Christian Dior. $10,000

I pulled my hand back like I'd touched fire. This couldn't be right. This wasn't for me. I checked the size. It was my size exactly, although I'd never given it to Brett when he'd asked. "Good guess," I mumbled.

I didn't think I could accept something so extravagant as this, but the simple beauty and elegance of it made me want to at least try it on. When would I ever be this close to a dress like this again? I undressed and decided to shower first. I didn't want to go to dinner smelling like a woman who slept on a park bench, even if that had been my reality lately. Besides, the bathroom was beautiful and I couldn't wait to sink into that tub. Later. Right now, I just needed a quick shower so I could get dressed and find out what was going on here.

Towels had already been set out for me. They smelled like rose petals and the shower itself was like nothing I'd ever seen. Two shower heads, one on each side, sprayed fine mist at me as I lathered my hair and soaped my body. I wanted to stay in this shower forever, but my stomach grumbled and I realized I hadn't eaten anything all day. Suddenly, dinner seemed less like an awkward chore and more like an enjoyable treat.

I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around myself. Back in the bedroom, I searched through the drawers, wondering if there might be a hair elastic or a bobby pin in one of them. I opened the top right drawer of a long, dark dresser. It was filled with exotic lingerie and custom bras. They were all my size. I shut it quickly.

What the hell is going on?

I sat on the bed, my legs weak, contemplating the situation. A closet full of clothes. A drawer full of lingerie. Vague answers or complete avoidance when I asked about the job. What was my role here, exactly? Brett's concubine? I looked around the room, with its lush furnishings and soft bed—sure beats a park bench. I was here. I might as well eat dinner. I was sure I'd find out more there, and if there was anything funny going on, I'd leave after dinner. I stood up, nodding my head, trying to reassure myself that I was making the right decision, and slipped into the dress.

Chapter 5

Downstairs, I learned what Jeremy meant about the house buttons. There were intercoms all over the place. When I got lost going down a hallway, I saw a button, and pushed it. Jeremy's voice immediately rang out guiding me to the dining room.

It was just as richly furnished as the rest of the home. Many of the furnishings were clearly antiques, including the table. Mr. Elliot was already seated and when I came in he stood up. "Good to see you again," he said.

"You too." His demeanor was so different from the other night, that I scarcely recognized him—except, of course, for the piercing ocean-blue eyes that seemed to slice into my soul. Well, that, and the fact that at 6’2” with a square jaw, straight, patrician nose, and wide, muscular chest tapering to a slender waist he was probably the hottest guy I’d ever seen in my life. I suddenly realized I was staring and averted my eyes.

"Thank you," I said, as he walked around and pulled out a chair for me. We sat on opposite sides of a long dining table. It was a little strange, but I supposed this way we each had our own space. He pushed my chair in before returning to his end.

Could this really be the same man I met the other day? Maybe Mr. Elliot had a twin.

"You look beautiful," he said. His eyes raked over me sending chills up and down my spine.

I blushed. "It's the dress."

"It's the woman in the dress."

I smiled. Slipping into the Dior had felt like taking a bath in champagne. It clung to my body in all the best ways, accentuating my curves and showcasing my breasts, of which I was very proud.

He rose from the table, which was long, dark wood, and poured a rich looking wine into my glass. "Thank you," I said again. "And thank you for the dress."

“Thank you… for wearing it.” He replied quietly, almost under his breath.

Jeremy came in then, followed by a woman in a simple chef's apron and pants. "Hello, Jeremy. Annabelle." He turned to me, "This is our talented chef, Annabelle. She prepares the most exquisite meals."

Annabelle smiled. She was pretty, but not in the plastic way that I'd begun getting used to out here. She was thin and lightly colored, with wavy golden hair that fell to her shoulders. She smiled at Mr. Elliot and a thin sliver of jealousy ran through me. Where did that come from?

"What is on the menu tonight, Annabelle?" Mr. Elliot asked. His voice radiated warmth.

"I kept it simple tonight," she replied. "Filet mignon with potatoes au gratin. Apple pie for dessert. Does that sound okay?"

Mr. Elliot looked directly into my eyes, and I felt a tingle of pleasure surge through my core. I had no idea where it came from, only that now that it had made its appearance, it may be impossible to push aside.

Annabelle smiled warmly at me and I fought the urge to rip her eyes out of her head. My hands trembled as Jeremy watched me intensely. "Sounds good," I said, hoping to hurry things along. What kind of idiot thought that filet mignon was a simple meal? Not us poor peasant folk. I felt a little like she'd insulted me. But, what I really couldn’t understand was the fierce protectiveness I felt for Mr. Elliot. He wasn’t “my Brett”, but my brain didn't seem to have gotten the memo.

Luckily, Annabelle went back to the kitchen, and it was Jeremy who returned with several trays of food. He laid them all out on the table in rich ceremony before serving us. It felt surreal having dinner served to me by a butler in a formal dining room while wearing a $10,000 dress. I wasn't sure I could get used to it. I kept wanting to get up and help, but decided to pretend I was auditioning for a movie role.

"You may leave us Jeremy," Mr. Elliot said with a wave of his hand.

Jeremy looked at me and his eyes darkened. "Are you quite certain Sir? Perhaps I should remain until after dinner. In case you require anything." Again, there was that veiled double meaning lurking behind his words. I couldn't explain it, but I knew it was there. Jeremy saw me watching him and smiled. His lips were pressed too-thin and his eyes too-narrow.

"No," Mr. Elliot said. "We'll be fine. I'd like to get to know Kaitlyn better."

Oh, so it was Kaitlyn now.

Jeremy left the room, obviously unhappy. The man clearly didn't trust me. I had a sneaking suspicion that while he left the room, he didn't go far.

"So Kaitlyn, tell me, what did you do before coming here?" His voice was smooth, deep, and I was reminded of saxophone music again. Sitting there, bathed in his voice, enjoying his incredible good looks, with his eyes drawing me like a magnet, I felt my cheeks grow hot and my brain cloud over in a storm of desire.

"I, uh..." It was getting harder to breathe. The man mesmerized me staring me down with those hypnotic eyes of his. His dark hair fell across his forehead when he reached for some more wine, offering to refill my glass first. I felt a surge of lust-triggered heat hit me like a brick hitting water.

"Is everything alright Kaitlyn? You seem a bit... flustered."

It took every ounce of strength to tear my eyes from his so that I could think clearly enough to answer his question. My heart thumped in my chest as I tried to catch my breath. What was the matter with me?

"Forgive me Mr. Elliot—"

"Brett, please."

I looked at him, startled. "Okay, Brett... forgive me, but you seem very different from the last time I saw you."

His eyes darkened and his smile fell. I wondered if I should've kept my mouth shut.

"I apologize for my behavior yesterday afternoon. I was... not feeling well."

Oh. It was a simple answer, but it had the ring of truth to it. Hell, when I didn't feel well, I could get pretty cranky. Now that I thought about it, he'd tried to excuse himself and have Jeremy finish the interview, but Jeremy had refused. It pissed me off to think that Jeremy would be so inconsiderate when Brett was ill. I already thought there was something off about that guy, now I knew what.  He was a dickhead.

"You never answered my question," he said.

"Oh? Sorry. What was the question?"

"What did you do before coming here?"

"Right, I'm an actress."

Brett put down his fork and looked at me. "Really?"

I blushed, "Well, trying to be. You know, like everyone else in L.A."

"Well, you certainly have the looks to make it, if you don't mind my saying so." He smiled and put another forkful of food in his mouth, his eyes never leaving mine.

My face flushed. This wasn't sarcasm. Brett was perfectly sincere in his compliment, and dining at his elegant table, eating perfectly prepared food with real silver utensils, wearing an amazing designer dress, I actually felt beautiful. "Um, thank you," I said, seizing the opportunity to get some answers. "Brett, perhaps you could answer some questions for me. I'm still a little unclear as to what my actual job description is here."

I tried to sound lighthearted and friendly, but I felt the increased pulse of my heart as it beat faster in my chest. I couldn't stop my mind from wondering what Brett's lips would taste like if I were to crawl across the table and kiss him. What would it feel like to run my fingers through his hair, slide onto his lap… I struggled to push the thoughts from my head.

"You know, on second thought, maybe we should just talk in the morning," I said. "I had a rough day. I think I'd like to go to bed."

"You can't," Brett said. It was a command.

"Umm... why not?" I asked. I tried to stop the growing anxiety from filling my chest, but it wasn't working.

"I hired you for a purpose. You must fulfill that purpose each night before you may retire."

Fulfill my purpose? Each night? Was he for real? Did he think that I would just roll over for him because he's rich and hot and he dressed me in a Dior? Brett was probably used to getting his way. Well, not with me. I didn't care how broke I was. I had boundaries. I had lines that I wouldn’t allow to be crossed. I'd go back to sleeping on a park bench before I’d agree to being his hired mistress—no matter how damp my panties got when he raked his glowing eyes over my body with that hungry look.

"Kaitlyn..." he asked, his brows furrowing in concern. "Are you alright?"

I snapped. I pushed my chair back, grabbed my wine glass, and walked across the floor where I flung my drink in his face. He looked shocked.

"What was that for?" he asked, rising from his chair, his anger matching my own.

"I don't know who you think I am, but I do not sleep with people for money. If that's what you want, I know a great spot off Hollywood Boulevard where they cater to creeps like you."

Then I turned and fled from the room.

Chapter 6

I sat on the plush bed in my new room. Angry tears rolling down my face. I'm nothing more than a cheap whore to him. And, to make it worse, here I am crying, for what? The third time today? I took another look around the room, with the closet full of expensive clothes and the furniture that looked like it belonged in a museum. Well, I’m not exactly cheap.

In a way, I was oddly flattered. How many women had applied? This guy was so rich, he could probably have his pick from thousands of women, but he'd chosen me. There was a soft knock on my door. I wiped at my eyes before checking myself in the mirror. "What," I snapped.

"May I come in?"

Brett was just on the other side of my door. Even now, the beat of my heart accelerated to a sprint knowing he was so near to me. I wanted to say no, but I couldn't stop myself from inviting him in. "Fine, but if you try anything, I'll pepper spray you." I didn't even have pepper spray.

The door creaked open and he stood outside the room a moment before stepping over the threshold. "I owe you an apology," he said.

I stood by the bed with my fists bunched at my sides, staring at the floor so I didn't have to look into those eyes. "For thinking that I'd trade sex for money?" I looked up, meaning to emphasize just how offended I was with an indignant glare, but when I looked at him all I could see were his moist pink lips, golden skin, and an expression that looked sincerely apologetic.

"For not being clear," he said.

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. Men this good looking and this rich were not to be trusted, ran through my head, but then I mentally kicked myself for thinking like my mother. "What do you mean?" I asked.

"I would never presume that a woman such as yourself would sell her… favors. I can assure you, I have the utmost respect for you."

My breath was shallow. I didn't want to pass out in the middle of his apology, so I made myself take deep breaths and hold them. "So, what are you saying? What did you hire me for then?"

He sighed and took a deep, slow breath in himself. "Would you follow me please?" Then he turned and exited my room without waiting for my response. I only hesitated a fraction of a second before following. My mind was riddled with conflict. I was glad he didn't want me for sex, but why was I was feeling a little disappointed? Did he find me unattractive? Why was he being so cryptic about what my job here actually was, then?

As I followed him down the hall, I couldn't help noticing the way he walked. For such a large man, his steps were smooth and perfectly balanced, almost as though he was floating. There was something about his manner and bearing that suggested importance. I got the impression that it would exist even if all of the wealth that surrounded him was gone. It was an energy that emanated from him—raw power.

He led me down the hall towards his bedroom. For a moment, I thought he was about to turn down the stairs. A giant wave of relief rush over me, followed by a smaller one of disappointment. But instead of turning, he continued down the hall and my heart skipped three beats. Outside the door to his room was a security lock with a key pad that I hadn't noticed before. It blended with the wall and from a distance looked like a decoration.

The door to his room stood just as mine—floor to ceiling, dark mahogany, very sturdy looking. I didn't see a lock and wondered what exactly the keypad was for. Brett pulled the door open and behind it I was shocked to see a second door, just as large and made of steel. To the right of the door was a series of mechanical locks that were arranged from top to bottom. There must have been at least ten of them, and they all looked like Superman himself would have a difficult time breaking them.

Brett turned to me, his eyes serious. "The only way into this room is with the key code. 074892. Remember it, please." I watched him punch it into the key pad, each number lighting up as his large fingers tapped them. There was a click and the locks slid open.

"Repeat the numbers back, please."

"074892," I said instantly. I was an actress. It was my job to memorize things quickly.

He smiled his approval and I turned my eyes to the door behind him which was still shut. He must have seen the apprehension behind my eyes because he said, "I promise, no harm will come to you." I thought it was a strange way to assure me that he wasn't leading me in here to rape or torture me. Or both. Then, he pushed the door open.

I stepped into the room. A massive bed dominated the middle of it. Behind the bed, where a headboard normally would have been, was a set of chains and handcuffs. The chains looked like they'd been set in the wall with concrete and reinforced with steel. They came out of the wall about five feet and ended in a set of thick, enormous handcuffs. What in the world were they for? Even Houdini would have a hard time getting out of those.

Walking further into the room, I began to notice other things, whips... swords... a net? And there was a strange padding on the walls. Oh shit. Is this room sound proof?

"What the hell is this?" I yelled, feeling that I'd been tricked. This was obviously some sort of perverted sex room. It might have even been a turn-on if the handcuffs were the kind covered in soft fur and easily escapable—but no! I took a step back towards the door.

Brett raised his hands in a placating gesture. "It's not for you," he said quickly. "It's for me." I narrowed my eyes and looked back at the bed where the chains and cuffs lay. He hired me as a dominatrix?

"You mean, you want me to tie you up and... and what? Pleasure you?"

A hint of a smile played across his face. "It's funny that you can sound so offended by the word pleasure." I blushed and turned my head. "But no, it's not for that, either."

"Then what is it for?"

His eyes had a storm raging in them. I could have sworn he was in physical pain. "I need you to secure me in this room, in these bindings by ten o' clock every night, and do not return for me until six the next morning."

I laughed, thinking it must be a joke. "What are you? A vampire?" Brett didn't smile. "You really want me to leave you chained up in here until the morning?"

"I do."

I was beginning to realize something. Brett was either incredibly eccentric, or incredibly nuts.

"Do you understand?"

"Oh yeah, sure, I understand. What’s not to understand?” I mocked, “You want me to chain you to the wall and leave you there till six. Nothing strange about that. And for this you're going to pay thousands of dollars in dresses and..."

Brett was watching me with the most pained and agonized expression on his face. I suddenly felt like a complete jerk. I knew how it felt to be ridiculed.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly. "Sure, I'll do it, if it's really what you want."

He let out a relieved breath. "It is," he replied quietly. As he walked to the bed, his expression never faltered. He appeared stoic, but with each step, I was reminded of a man marching towards his death sentence. His body seemed weighted with strain. For the first time since meeting him, I realized that he must be an incredibly lonely man.

He positioned himself on the mattress and held his hands out for me. I laid a caressing hand on his wrist. He looked up at me, a split second of surprise registered before he attempted a smile, then closed his eyes, waiting for me to cuff him.

"You don't want to change or anything first? Er, pajamas or something?" He shook his head. "Okay, then." I placed the cuffs over his wrists and locked them. They were huge, five times too big. Even his large hands could easily slide out of the metal restraints. Whatever. I locked the massive padlock that hung off them and stepped back.

"How will I know if you need anything?" I didn't see a phone anywhere, or even one of the house buttons.

"I won't."

“What if you need a glass of water?”

“I won’t.”

"What if you need to pee?"

He finally managed a smile. It was soft and barely there, but it was genuine. "Thank you for your kindness. I'll be fine." I hesitated, then walked to the door.

"Remember," he called out. "Not until six. Not for any reason." I nodded and left the room.

Chapter 7

I couldn't sleep. I kept opening my door and peeking down the hall at Brett's room. He'd forbade me to come in until six, but I couldn't help wondering if he was really alright in there. I kept picturing the sorrow in his tired, weary eyes as I closed the cuffs on his wrists. What if there was a fire? Or if he got sick? Or if he was suffering a heart attack at this very minute?

The last thought was what did me in. I couldn't handle the image of him lying chained to his bed while his heart slowly gave out and the life faded from his body, all because I didn't check on him. Just a quick peek inside—that's all. Just so I'll know he's safe.

I tiptoed down the hall, hovering outside his door. My hand went straight to the keypad then pulled back. As concerned as I was, I didn't want to piss him off. He’d given explicit instructions, and I’d promised to follow them. I opened the wooden door that was more for show than anything else and pressed my ear to the steel one behind it. It was cold and hard and I couldn't hear a thing. I listened harder, straining my ears. Still nothing.

"Get away!" A voice, harsh and loud and very close, shouted from behind me. I jumped and almost screamed. Jeremy stood in the hallway, glaring at me.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said, terrified. “What the hell are you doing, sneaking up on people? Creep, much?” Was it really that wrong to want to check on Brett and make sure he wasn't dead? "I only wanted to make sure he was alright. Do you know what he's doing in there? That he's chained up to—" I paused, wondering exactly how much Jeremy actually knew. "Do you know..."

"About his condition?"

I screwed my face up. "Condition?"

Jeremy looked taken aback for a minute, like he'd let something slip that he shouldn't have. "I know about everything that goes on in this house," he snapped. "You are not to return to his room until six. It is only now just past midnight. I advise you to go to sleep. For your own good."

I took one last look at the steel door before stepping away and heading back to my room. Jeremy followed me until I was inside, where I shut and locked the door. Something was definitely off about Jeremy. Did he know that Brett was losing his mind? Maybe he was playing into Brett’s delusions, whatever they were. I bet he's after Brett’s money. Suddenly things made perfect sense. Brett was rich, but mentally ill. He had no friends or family that I'd seen, only Jeremy, who was no doubt manipulating him, and I was hired to be a pawn in his evil scheme. Well, I wouldn’t do it. I would find a way to break his plan wide open.

I laid my head down on the pillow and realized how soft my bed was. It was a far cry from Colin's couch. Funny how I'd so quickly gotten used to thinking of my old apartment and the things in it as Colin's. We had lived there together for six months, and up until the last month had split the cost of everything, yet it was Colin's apartment, Colin's couch, Colin's everything. Had I ever had anything that was really mine?

Before I knew it, I was asleep. I had bad dreams of floating on storm clouds while monsters chased after me. I opened my eyes around two a.m. and starting thinking about Brett again. I got out of bed and took one quiet step towards his room but didn't dare go inside, not if Jeremy was going to be hovering so close by. I could have sworn he’d told me that Brett and I were the only ones sleeping here at night.

Instead, I decided to explore a little. If this was to be my new home, I should know where things were. Maybe there was something I could use to free Brett from the strange hold Jeremy had over him. I wandered up and down the halls, opening doors that weren't locked and poking my head into places where I wasn't sure I should be, but went anyway.

One room looked like a movie theater. It had the same style of chairs that you'd find in a theater, only richer and plusher. Some of them were actually more like theater love seats than chairs. There was even a concession stand. It was a cute room. Back by the projection booth, I noticed a trophy case. Curious about what sort of trophies I'd find in a media room, I went for a closer look. The shelves were lined with Oscars, Golden Globes, and SAG Awards. My mouth dropped open as I read each inscription. Brett Randolph Elliot...producer.

Suddenly, everything slid into place. I couldn't believe what a giant idiot I'd been. I'd read about Brett Randolph Elliot a hundred times. A thousand times! His name was mentioned in papers and online trade content across the country, probably across the globe. He was known for producing blockbuster after blockbuster. He was also known for being a complete recluse. His private life was one big enigma that no amount of overly-ambitious paparazzi had ever been able to crack.

I'm working for the biggest producer in Hollywood!

Holy cow. If Colin knew where I was, he'd piss himself. I was tempted to text him just to mess with him a little.

Having this new information, I felt better, safer somehow. It gave me some context for what was going on here. I still didn't trust Jeremy, but at least now I knew who I was really working for. I went back to my room, intending to force myself into a restful sleep, but found my mind drifting again and again to the image of Mr. Brett Randolph Elliot, award winning and esteemed producer, chained to his bed.

By the time six o'clock arrived, I was showered, dressed, and waiting anxiously to see whether my new employer was alive or dead. When my alarm finally dinged, I ran from the room and down the hall. There were no sounds from inside Mr. Elliot's room. The door unlocked and I ran inside to find his body hanging limply, his clothes torn so badly to shreds that he was completely naked. His face and chest were covered in scratches that looked like claw marks.

"Mr. El- Brett! Oh my god! Are you alright?" I ran to his side.

He turned his head to me as I unlocked the cuffs, throwing them aside. I was too worried about him to be embarrassed by his nudity. I ran my hand over his head, along his back and chest, searching for wounds. Despite the blood, he seemed fine. The scratches that looked like claw marks seemed to fade as I ran my hand over them, like dry erase marker.

"I don't understand," I said, looking to him for answers. "What happened to you? Did someone hurt—"

But he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me to him before I could finish, molding his lips to mine. His mouth was wet and hot and as his tongue deftly and demandingly worked its way inside my mouth, I half-heartedly rested my hands against his rock-hard chest, trying to stop him. But his large, well-muscled body enveloped me and a burning heat crept up my body, settling into the apex between my thighs in a slow fire that made my whole body ache. I straddled him, pressing myself against him, his splayed fingers reaching through my hair, grasping the back of my head. I heard a soft moan escape my lips.

"Kaitlyn," he murmured. I bit his ear and wrapped my legs around his waist, my heart throbbing.

Suddenly, it all stopped. He pushed me away so fast I fell off the bed and bumped my head. "Ow," I said.

"I'm sorry," he said, wrapping a sheet around his body and jumping off the bed. "Did I hurt you? Are you alright?" I yanked my arm away, irritated at the sudden withdraw of affection. One minute I had his massive, erect cock rubbing against my jeans in just the right places, daring me to jump into the deep end, the next he was pushing me away like I had an infectious disease.

"I'm fine," I snapped.

"Kaitlyn I—I'm sorry." His eyes were so sincere. "I just didn't know what else to do." He wrapped his hands around his head and held it like he had a migraine. His eyes winced and turned glassy. "It's getting harder for me to control," he whimpered.

"What is?" I asked, my anger melting. He was obviously in pain; I just didn't know why.

I reached out a hand and he swatted it away, straightening his back. Maybe he really is crazy. "It won't happen again," he said, rounding back his shoulders and looking me straight in the eyes. They weren't the blue green I'd been mesmerized by when first meeting him, they were a deep brown with flecks of gold. Impossible. Eyes don't randomly change color like that. "You have my word. I won't touch you like that again."

I nodded my head, as if that was what I wanted to hear. Then left him alone to get dressed before he could see the disappointment on my face and the deep confusion in my eyes.

Chapter 8

It's amazing how fast something can become routine. What's even more amazing is how much crap a person will put up with when they're attracted to someone. Every time I tried to leave the house, Jeremy was there, reminding me that a portion of my contract involved my being available to Mr. Elliot twenty-four seven. That meant not going anywhere that wasn't within a 100 foot radius of the house. Auditions disappeared. I didn't have any friends in L.A. to begin with, or they'd have disappeared too. I felt like a prisoner. At least when I was auditioning, I had physical contact with people. Now, half the time Brett ignored me, the rest of the time... well the rest of the time it was like the two of us were sole survivors of some terrible catastrophe. The last two people alive on Earth, clinging to each other as a life rafts.

It was those times that kept me here. Being with Brett could be incredibly easy. We strolled through the grounds, ate dinner on the terrace, laughed at silly things, and my body still ached for him. I told myself there wasn’t a red-blooded woman alive who wouldn’t drool over his witty charm and drop-dead gorgeous looks. He felt something for me, too. I was certain. There were times when I’d look up to catch him staring at me for a moment before he quickly turned away. In those moments, when I’d catch him unsuspectingly, his face had such a pained longing, it took my breath away.

I only wished I knew how to create more of the good times and get rid of the sullen, morose, moody Brett forever. Was this what it felt like to love someone with a mental illness? Jeremy was constantly around, though his presence was often hidden. I would think that Brett and I were alone only to walk out of a room and discover Jeremy standing against a wall, listening.

This morning I was in the kitchen, contemplating the strange relationship that had developed between my employer and me, when he stumbled in, bleary eyed, searching for coffee.

"Coffee," Brett demanded. I could already tell this was going to be one of the bad days.

"Yeah, alright. Coming up," I mumbled, irritated that he hadn't even said good morning. Though it wasn't expressly written, part of my duties seemed to include bringing him crap that he could easily get himself. It was a wonder that I didn't brush his teeth and wipe his ass for him.

Luckily, the coffee pot was still hot. I pulled it from the coffeemaker and tripped over my own feet. Half of the coffee flew across the room and hit Brett square in the chest and I felt the other half of the coffee slosh out and burn my arm. The glass pot shattered on the floor, a million shards of glass instantly dug into my skin and stung me like a hive of bees.

"Shit!" I yelled.

Brett rushed to me. He stepped on the glass with his bare feet like he was walking on soap bubbles. "Kaitlyn! Are you alright?" He scooped me off the floor and pulled me into his arms. They were thick, and his muscles rippled as he held me protectively against him.

"Brett, your chest. Aren't you burned?" His face flushed as I struggled in his arms, certain he was hurt much worse than me.

"I'm fine," he said, holding me tighter as he carried me across the room and sat me on a couch.

"But I saw the coffee burn you."

"I'm fine," he repeated. “Let me see your arm." He pulled my hand, straightening my arm out. It had a giant red patch where the coffee had burned me. Bits of glass stuck out of my skin at all angles. Apparently, my left arm had taken the brunt of the injuries. I was glad I wasn't left handed. His eyes moved swiftly over the rest of me, searching my body for anything else that might be injured and leaving me with a tingling desire in my lady bits.

"Stay here," he said, leaving me in the living room. He returned a minute later with a first aid kit and some tweezers. "I need to get the glass out before we can treat the burn."

His eyes were the normal blue I loved. I watched them swim with concern. "I'm okay," I said, "really."

He raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, and pulled a piece of glass from my arm the size of a dime.  My face went white. I'd never been very fond of blood—especially my own. "Okay," I told him. "Maybe not exactly fine. Go ahead. Patch me up."

I closed my eyes but winced every time Brett pulled a piece of glass from my skin. The third time I jumped and Brett held my hand, massaging my palm with his fingers before continuing. "Tell me again," he said, pulling out a tiny piece of glass that had embedded itself into my elbow. "What was it you said you did before coming here." I had a feeling Brett was trying to distract me. I decided to let him.

"Ow," I winced. "I'm an actress. Well... was… sort of."

His eyes lifted to mine. We were so close I could smell his sweat. It was like cedar and eucalyptus. I inhaled deeply as he continued. "Sort of?" he asked.

"Well, my boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—Colin, has had a lot better luck at it than I have."

"Oh? And how much luck have you had?" he asked, dropping another piece of glass onto the table.

"None," I tried to smile but my lips turned down instead of up.

Brett's hand reached out, caressing the back of my leg. His eyes were soft and seemed to reach to the very core of me. "It takes time," he said. "What about Colin? Where is he now?"

"In our old apartment, probably banging some skank he picked up at a bar. That was his favorite pastime while we were together, no reason it would’ve stopped now that we're apart."

Brett's eyes darkened. "He cheated on you?"

I laughed. "Constantly. Then again..." I paused. "Can it really be called cheating if I knew and didn’t stop it?" I blushed, embarrassed.

Brett's eyes started to twitch. "You knew he was cheating on you yet you said nothing?" I nodded, feeling my throat dry up. "So, you prefer men with a callous disregard for your wellbeing who would treat you with no respect rather than those who would love you unconditionally?" he asked, finally setting the tweezers down. His eyes burned with an angry fire. I felt my defenses kick in.

"No, I just... I don't have a lot of friends."

"There's a reason for that."

I yanked my arm out of his grip. "What is that supposed to mean?” Brett's muscles flexed and he looked at me with eyes that were hard and dark.

“Go on, Brett, answer. What is the reason I have no friends? I’m fat, ugly, stupid? Lay it on me, I can take it. Trust me, I’ve heard worse than anything you can dish up.” I knew my temper was flying off the handle a little bit, but I was livid.

"Because you have no self-confidence,” he spat the words at me. “You put yourself down too much.” He didn’t meet my eyes when he muttered, “Why are you women always putting yourselves down?"

I knew Brett was in a bad mood when he’d walked into the kitchen this morning, but after being burned and having shards of glass removed from my arm, I wasn’t exactly Little Mary Sunshine either. Something about the way he said “you women” or maybe it was the words he chose that spiked my bitch-o-meter.

"I don't know," I snapped back, "Maybe it’s the same reason men like you are always keeping secrets from us."

"Oh really?" he snarled, trying unsuccessfully to control his temper. "It would seem you know much more about men than I'd initially given you credit for."

"Are you calling me a slut now?" I stormed towards the front door.

"Where are you going?" he demanded, his booming voice stopping me short.

"Out."

"You can't. It's against your contract. I forbid it."

I turned on my heels. "You forbid it?"

Brett squared his shoulders. "That's right."

It was just then that my phone rang. It wasn’t a number that I recognized and I only answered it to piss Brett off. I was a little confused by how we'd gone from his caressing my leg to the all-out war we were in the middle of. "Hello?" I snapped into the receiver.

"Kaitlyn?"

My face turned pale. "Colin?"

"Yeah."

"What the hell do you—" Then I saw Brett's face. His eyes were narrowed in jealousy, his lips pursed tightly. "Colin, hey, what's up? I was just thinking about you actually."

"You were?"

"Yeah."

I heard Colin take a deep breath before launching into a prepared speech. "I called because I wanted to say I was sorry for the way I treated you."

I was so shocked at his words that I forgot to breathe. "You are?"

"Of course I am! I was a complete idiot. I was hoping you'd let me take you to dinner tonight. I'd like to talk to you. To explain why I treated you like that when you deserved so much better."

"Well..." I should have told him to fall in shit and roll around. That was my first instinct. But, Brett was watching me, his face still scrunched in a scowl. Besides, after three weeks cooped up with a narcissistic crazy person, it was nice to hear an outside voice.

"I can't really meet you for dinner. I... I'm stuck at work all day today." Then an idea struck me. "Would you like to meet me here? Where I'm living now?" I held the phone away from my mouth and tried to make my eyes look wide and innocent as I turned to Brett, " I am allowed to have friends over, aren't I?" He nodded stiffly. I could tell he hated the idea, but he wasn't about to let me think I'd gotten the best of him.

I was thinking of the movie room. Colin and I could watch something in there after I got Brett locked down for the night. We would never be a couple again, but maybe we could at least work towards a civil friendship. It would be nice to have a friend.

I gave Colin directions and he promised to meet me here at 9:30 tonight.

Chapter 9

I don't know why I'd gotten dressed up for Colin. No, that's a lie. I wanted to look good so Colin would know exactly what he was missing, and Brett would be jealous for keeping me at arm’s length. Little did I know at the time that I was playing with fire.

I opened the door at 9:30, and Colin stood there with his jaw open and his hands trembling. I smiled.

"Hey," I said, trying my best to sound casual. Inside, I was shouting with glee.

"Hey. Uh... you look nice."

"Thanks. Come on in." I swung the door open wider, and he stepped over the threshold. He gave a low whistle and looked at me with a new respect.

"You live here?" he asked.

My smile widened as I led Colin down the hall towards the theatre. "Yeah. I mean, it's my boss's place. The room came with the job."

"Wow," he said, eyeing the treasures around the house. It was hard not to. The paintings on the walls alone were probably worth millions. "Where's your room? Can I see it?" he asked.

I hesitated. I was okay with Colin being in the house and us hanging in the theater, but having him step foot in my bedroom was another thing altogether. I had no intention of sleeping with him and didn't want him to get the wrong idea.

"It's upstairs," I said, "Maybe later," then steered him down another hallway. Finally we got to the theater and I showed him in. "Wow," he said again. He seemed in awe of everything about the place. I'd known he would be and the show-off in me was glad.

"Got any snacks?" he asked.

"I can check the kitchen for popcorn and stuff."

"I was thinking more like wine. Maybe some strawberries?"

Alarm bells went off in my head, "Um... I'll check. Colin..." I hesitated. I didn't want Colin thinking of this as a date—the kind that would end with us in bed and me regretting it all the next day. "I don't think that... I think we should just be friends." I held my breath, waiting for his reaction. Colin didn't have friends who were girls.

"Sure," he said. "That's fine. That's great, actually. Who couldn't use a friend?" I blew out the breath I'd been holding.

"Great," I said. I checked the clock on the wall. It was almost ten. "Look, I have to run and take care of something for my boss. I'll be back in like ten minutes. Make yourself at home. There's a huge movie selection over there," I pointed towards the far wall. "Pick out whatever you'd like and I'll be back."

I ran to Brett's room, happy that I'd invited Colin over after all. We'd been together for six years—since high school—you didn't just give that up overnight. There was no reason we couldn't be friends.

Brett was waiting for me on his bed, the cuffs spread out before him. "Hi," I said. Things had been awkward between us all day. He looked at me but said nothing as I strapped his cuffs around his wrist. His arms were a mass of golden-bronze muscles. It seemed wrong to be locking him in steel cuffs.

"So, your boyfriend is here?" Brett finally asked gruffly.

“Ex,” I replied

"You'd let someone who hurt you as he did back into your life?"

I hesitated. I didn’t like his derogatory tone. "What I do with my private life is none of your business." I felt his eyes glued to me as I walked around his room, checking things. "Besides, I don't have any other friends."

"You have me," Brett said. His voice was hoarse and he stared at me with calculating eyes.

"No, I don't," I snapped. "I don't even have your friendship Brett."

He looked stunned. His eyes softened. "The last few weeks... I've come to appreciate you more than I could have thought possible."

There was a long pause of awkward silence. The air felt heavy around us.

"Yeah, well..." I didn't know what to say. I was flattered by his words, but I was still an outsider in his world. "You have too many secrets. I don’t even know you—the real you. You shut me out."

Brett opened his mouth to respond then closed it again without saying anything further. "I'll be back at six," I told him, then shut the door.

In the kitchen, I grabbed a bottle of wine from the small wine cooler. Colin had picked out a movie and it was already playing it when I walked in. "You started it already?" I asked.

"Yeah. I was bored. Do you mind?"

"Er... no. I guess not. I got us some wine." I didn't know anything about wine, I'd just grabbed the first bottle I saw, but Colin whistled when he saw the year.

"Nice," he said. I smiled, glad I'd selected something appropriate.

We sat sipping wine and watching some old western that I didn't recognize but Colin seemed to really be enjoying. Halfway through I went to refill my glass and realized the bottle was empty. Colin had drunk almost all of it himself. I should have known better, Colin had always been a heavy drinker. I decided it wasn't a good idea to get another bottle. I didn't want him spending the night because he was too drunk to drive.

My mind kept drifting back to what Brett had said. Colin had treated me like crap the entire time we were together. Why would I let him back into my life now that I'd made a fresh start? Was I really so desperate for friends?

It was while I was pondering this that I felt Colin's hand creeping up my thigh. I looked at him and pushed it away. "Stop," I said.

He shrugged and returned to watching the movie. A minute later, his hand was back. Only this time, I didn't push it away so easily. He wouldn't let me. "Colin," I said, hoping I sounded forceful. His hand was on my waist now, trying to draw me to him. "Colin, stop it. I thought we decided we'd just be friends."

"Yeah," he whispered, forcing himself closer to me. I struggled in his arms. "Friends with benefits."

"No, Colin. I'm not interested in those types of benefits." He pressed his lips against mine. They tasted like sour wine. I slapped him, surprised at myself. Colin looked shocked too, for a half-second, then his face grew dark and angry. I jumped off the couch and Colin stood up.

"So, you'll bang Brett Randolph Elliot but not me? Is that it?"

"What are you talking about? How did you know this is Brett Elliot's place?"

"Your mom told me. I didn't believe her at first, but when I saw this house tonight... You've gotta be fucking him. Why else would he hire you? He must have a thing for fat chicks."

I cursed my mother for opening her big mouth. "Okay, you need to leave." I put a hand on his back to usher him towards the door. He reached out and grabbed my wrist, twisting it behind my back painfully. "Ow," I screamed. Things went from bad to worse, fast. With my wrist locked in his grip Colin forced me back onto the couch and pinned me there.

"Colin, stop it!" I screamed. His hands ran roughly over my breasts, fingers stabbing into my flesh like ice picks. His breath was hot and stunk as he kissed me, pushing his body against mine. I felt his erection through his pants and freed my hand just enough to slap him again. He punched me back, and I tasted blood in my mouth. It mixed with the tears flowing down my cheeks. "Colin, stop it!" I whimpered. "Heeelp!"

Colin ripped my shirt open and had just gotten my pants unzipped when the room suddenly filled with heat. There was a loud sound, like a cross between a roar and a hiss, and Colin was knocked off me. I grasped the ends of my shirt together and stood, trembling, trying to stop the flow of tears. A massive- thing stood in the center of the room. It looked like a… a… dragon. It picked Colin's body up—he was thrashing and screaming—and threw him against the wall. I heard a crack and Colin's body went limp.

Then, the dragon turned toward me.

Chapter 10

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Was my mind was playing tricks on me? It had to be. No, it was a dragon. Wasn’t it? Was I was having some sort of breakdown? I screamed and knocked the wine bottle off the table. A dragon. A real dragon. I wanted to reach out and touch it, but didn't dare. I pinched my skin, thinking maybe I was dreaming, but I didn't wake up.

"Go away!" I hissed, feeling ridiculous. As if it could understand me. Then again, what the hell did I know about dragons? For all I knew they could read and write and line dance. As scared as I was, there was an almost overpowering feeling enveloping my body, drawing me to the creature. It was like some deep cavern within my soul had suddenly opened and I needed only to follow the shining light towards salvation, only this light breathed fire and was supposed to be tucked away in the realms of fantasy books.

The dragon's body filled the room from floor to ceiling. Its skin was gray green. Scales ran the length of its body. I even noticed puffs of smoke coming out of its nostrils. I'm hallucinating. I had to be, but that didn't stop my body from trembling.

Colin's body was crumpled on the floor, limp. He wasn't breathing. I remembered the way his fist had felt as it slammed into my face. The way his hands hadn't paused for even a second when he'd ripped my shirt. I looked again at his body, a rag doll lying on the floor, and was surprised to find that I didn't feel sorry for him. My eyes moved from Colin to the dragon. Whatever this thing in front of me was, it had saved me.

It stepped closer to me, tilting its head to one side like it was examining me, and I backed towards the wall. "It's okay," I said in a soft voice, the kind you'd use when talking to a rabid dog. "Good… dragon." The words sounded ridiculous coming out of my mouth, but I didn't have anything better. How to deal with mythological creatures was not something in my repertoire.

It continued moving towards me until I was flush against the wall. Then it reached out one clawed... paw... I had no idea what to call the flesh that the six-inch claws were attached to... and I realized that there were chains dangling from around its wrists. Heavy, thick chains with matching steel cuffs that were pulled taught around its wrists.

My first semi-coherent thought was that this dragon had eaten Brett. That was the only logical explanation. Then I realized how completely illogical it actually was. Why would Brett's handcuffs be glued to its wrists if it had eaten him? Wouldn't the chains be in its stomach right now, getting digested? I pushed aside an image of Brett's body being eaten away by this creature's stomach acid.

My brain refused to accept the next obvious solution, that this dragon actually was Brett. Even so, I couldn't stop my eyes from searching the dragon's features. My eyes snapped open wide and I stared at its face. Blue eyes stared back at me.

Oh. My. God," I whispered. "Brett?"

It was then that Jeremy burst into the room, a sword in his hand, a gun at his side. He saw Brett and me by the wall, Colin's body dead on the floor, and quickly jumped to conclusions.

"It's alright," he called to me, taking big, slow steps towards us, the sword out and ready. I was sort of shocked to see how un-shocked Jeremy was about the situation. I mean, a giant dragon was in the room with us and Jeremy was looking at it like it was a pet dog. Brett watched Jeremy with wary eyes. I reached out a protective hand. Whatever Brett was, he had saved me.

"Don't hurt him!" I shouted. "He didn't do anything."

Jeremy scoffed, his eyes darting to Colin's body. "He's killed a man."

I searched for the right words to save Brett from the sharp blade that Jeremy held tightly in his hand, and settled on the truth. "That man was attacking me. He... he tried to..." I couldn't finish the thought. Jeremy finally seemed to notice me—really notice me, not just observe my presence in the room. I saw his eyes roll over my body, taking in my bloody lip, the bruising and swelling on my cheek that was becoming more pronounced by the second, and my torn shirt.

"Are you alright?" Jeremy asked, his eyes and voice softening. The dragon—I mean Brett—shuffled his feet and let out a monstrous sound that reminded me of a train whistle. Jeremy continued to move closer to us, and now withdrew something from his pocket that looked like a Taser gun.

"What is that?" I asked. "What the hell is going on here anyways?" I felt like I was insane. I desperately wanted answers to the millions of questions swarming my head. The dragon flashed a claw at Jeremy when he got close and I saw Jeremy hesitate before moving in again.

"Don't hurt him!" I shouted. Even as a dragon, I still felt drawn to Brett like a magnet. Actually, the pull was even stronger now than it had been since my arrival. I didn't know whether it was because Brett had just saved me, or if the weirdness in me was just enamored with the idea that he was a dragon, but something about him made my body ache for him even more.

"I'm not going to hurt him," Jeremy snapped. "I just have to get him back to his room." Maybe I was being too hard on Jeremy. I'd never liked him, but now, watching the fearlessness with which he wielded his sword in a dangerous situation, I had a newfound respect for him.

Then he moved in, shooting Brett not with a Taser as I'd thought, but some sort of needle. "It's a calming agent," he said to me. Brett thrashed his tail around and a stream of fire burned the front row of seats in the theater, then his glowing blue eyes relaxed. I saw them swim with intoxication. The dragon swayed on his feet and Jeremy threw a chain around his neck. The dragon protested only mildly before allowing himself to be led away.

I watched it thunder down the hall with Jeremy. It was amazing to see the enormous creature that only an hour before I would have sworn existed only in fiction, head down the hall towards Brett's room. My mind tried to go dark. This was all too much for me. Why did I invite Colin over? I wished that I'd never accepted the job with Brett.

Did I wish that? This morning, Brett had pulled the shards of glass from my arm with the tender care of a lover. I remembered our brief moment together two weeks ago, when his lips had met mine and my insides yearned for more. If I could go back, would I really change any of that?

No.

Jeremy spun around and growled me, "Wait here,"

"Why? I want to help." Even in this state Brett seemed perfectly aware of who I was and what was happening. He didn't seem dangerous at all, not to me, just hurt and alone.

"It's too dangerous," he said. When he saw I wasn't leaving, he said, "Go to the kitchen. I'll meet you there when I'm through."

I started to protest, but Jeremy's eyes flashed a dangerous look at me. Despite my newfound admiration for his courage, I'd never trusted him, and I didn't want to cross him now, especially when he was still armed. If Jeremy didn't come to me when he was done, though, I would find him.

I would get some answers.

Chapter 11

Jeremy walked into the kitchen a half hour later, silently, and began making tea. His eyes were rimmed with dark circles and I noticed a slight shake in his hands when he offered me a mug. I sipped at the tea, waiting for him to begin. I had too many questions to ask and didn't even know where to start. This whole night had been long and tiring, and all I really wanted was to climb into bed and go to sleep, but I knew I'd never rest until I had some answers. When Jeremy took the seat across from me, I thought we were finally ready to begin. Instead, he sipped his own tea and ignored me. I snapped.

"What the hell is going on here?" I demanded. "You said you'd tell me everything."

Jeremy chuckled and a delicate smile ran across his face. "Did I? I don't recall saying that."

My mouth hung open. Blood boiled in my veins. "Maybe you didn't say that exactly, but it was implied. Anyway, I'm not leaving you alone until I get some answers." He didn't look convinced so I let the actress in me take over. A little melodrama might help a situation like this. "I'll follow you everywhere. Day and night. Wherever you go. Whatever you do, I'll be there. Imagine how much fun it will be when you're in the bathroom and I'm standing behind you watching you pee."

Jeremy laughed then. It was such a warm and happy sound I couldn't help but laugh with him.

He set his mug on the table and looked into my eyes. I noticed for the first time that they were deep golden brown with hints of green lurking in the back. They were actually quite beautiful. A twinge of guilt prickled me. All this time I'd suspected Jeremy of conspiring against Brett, but it turns out that he was conspiring with Brett. Maybe even helping him.

"None of that will be necessary," Jeremy said. "Though I appreciate the gusto of your threat." The smile hinted at his lips again. "What do you know about dragons?"

"They don't exist," I responded automatically. "Er... well, I mean, that's the, uh, conventional wisdom." I sounded like an idiot. Dragons clearly did exist. I'd just seen one. I was working for one.

"What else?" Jeremy asked. His questions were irritating. He was supposed to be answering questions, not asking them.

"They breathe fire and... are big and mean and scary. I don't know. Just tell me what's going on."

Jeremy hesitated. I think he was searching for a way to begin. "Not only do dragons exist, Brett is one... as am I."

I stared at Jeremy with my mouth hanging open. "You're a dragon?" He nodded. "But... but then why aren't you locked up in some room too? Chained to some wall?"

"Because," Jeremy said, his eyes sparkling for a second before answering, "I have my treasure to keep me sane."

"Your treasure?" He nodded again, smiling, as if this explained everything. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?" I asked, annoyed at his cryptic answers.

Jeremy sighed. "Every dragon has a treasure to hoard. It is what prevents us from losing ourselves to the beast within. You asked why I am not locked up? Because I can control myself. I can shift at will. Brett has lost that ability. He has never found his treasure, and his time has run out. At this point, there is little hope. His control is almost completely gone. When it is, he will be put down."

My head was swimming. "Put down? Did you say... do you mean… killed?" Jeremy nodded, and I caught a hint of regret in his eyes. "Why? How could you do that?"

"Because," Jeremy said. "without control, he is dangerous to everyone. Including you."

“How the hell much treasure does a man… er, dragon need to find?” I waved my arms around indicating the opulence of Brett’s estate. I could only begin to imagine the wealth he’s amassed as one of the most esteemed producers in the industry.

“A dragon’s treasure is not the same as a treasure in the traditional sense of the word. It’s not necessarily gold, or money. For me, it’s the land I own that calls to my dragon’s heart." Jeremy quietly explained.

I jumped up from my chair and started pacing the room. "This doesn't make any sense. You know that right? You tell me that dragons are real and they need some sort of treasure to guard or they lose their minds? I feel like I've lost my mind."

Jeremy shook his head and made little clicking noises that dug into my back like nails. "You need to calm down. Think about this objectively. How can we allow an uncontrolled dragon to live amongst people? He would kill everyone he met. You saw the beast." He stood from the table and poured himself some more tea. "Our people go back a millennium. It is part of our heritage. Part of our clan."

My head throbbed with too much new information. "You're saying there's a whole clan of you?"

Jeremy nodded. "In Ireland, where we're from, it's common knowledge. Some say our clan was cursed centuries ago and now its descendants all suffer. Some say our dragon heritage was a gift from the gods to help us defend our villages. Either way, every male descendant for centuries has been born with the power to shift."

"So," I asked. "What's gone wrong with Brett? If you guys are used to this sort of thing, I'd think he could find his treasure in no time." Jeremy looked sad as he answered my question.

"It’s not that easy. The treasure is different for every dragon. A man never knows what it will be that his dragon’s heart latches onto—what his dragon treasures."

"Can't you help him figure it out? I mean, there must be clues."

Jeremy shook his head. "I've tried. Nothing has worked. After what I saw tonight, I now know that Brett doesn’t have much longer."

My heart hammered in my chest. "Are you really going to kill him?" I whispered. The idea horrified me. Jeremy didn't answer, he just looked away. He couldn't even meet my eyes.

I set my mug on the counter and left the room.

"Where are you going?" Jeremy asked, following me.

"To see Brett."

"Not possible," he said.

I spun around so fast he ran into me. "Not possible? Are you kidding me? After today, anything is possible!" I spun back around and continued towards Brett's room.

"Of course," Jeremy said, trying to reason with me. He stretched out an arm and put his hand on my shoulder, halting me. "But just because something is possible doesn't mean you should do it. Especially when it's so dangerous."

I ignored him, but slowed my pace. "He didn't hurt me earlier. He could have if he'd wanted to. He saved me." I squared my shoulders and steadied my gaze. "I trust him."

Jeremy laughed. It was deep and throaty and irritating as hell. "Trust? There is no trust when it comes to dragons." But I wasn't going to relent so easily. He sighed. "Fine. You want to see Brett? Let me show you then."

He jumped ahead of me in the hall and now I followed him to Brett's room. Jeremy punched in the key code and pushed the door open. The room was filled with smoke. It stung my eyes. I could barely breathe.

"Oh my God," I said, panic rising. Despite my desire to run, I stepped into the room. Brett's eyes weren't the blue I'd come to love anymore, they were a muddy brown, flecks of black ran throughout them, making him look almost demonic. He was chained to the wall and thrashed wildly around, trying to break free. His razor claws slashed through the air, and I remembered how close I'd been to them. He roared at me like he didn't even recognize me.

"Satisfied?" Jeremy asked.

I nodded. He shut the door and walked me to my room. "Don't worry about the body," he said, and I realized he was referring to Colin. "I'll take care of it." I wondered what that meant exactly. Would he bury Colin's body in a cemetery somewhere? Burn it in a fire? I decided I didn't want to know. I shut the door on him, no longer tired, my mind racing as I tried to think of some way to help Brett before it was too late.

Chapter 12

The next morning, I walked to Brett's room with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. I'd thought of a million more questions during the night, and I intended to make him answer them all. I punched the key pad and pushed the door open, the image of Brett as a dragon still etched in my mind. What if he was still a dragon when I went in? What if he was still thrashing around with his giant claws and fire-breath? But, when I stepped inside, he was just Brett. He was sitting on his bed, newly reinforced chains and cuffs strapped to him like a wild animal, which I supposed in many ways he was.

He looked up as I entered. His eyes focused intently on me as I crossed the room. I wasn't sure, but for a second I thought I saw him blush.

"Hi there," I said, trying to sound playful. It came out stilted and awkward. I uncuffed him and turned away as he tucked the charred remains of a bedsheet around his waist.

He stood up, stretching his arms and legs out. "Er... Do you remember last night?" I asked. His eyes answered me with a pained expression. He remembered.

He looked up at the ceiling for a minute or two. I wanted to start asking my questions, but Brett seemed so frazzled right now that I didn't want to make his frustrations any worse. I finally understood what precipitated his mood swings. He wasn’t suffering from mental illness, he was angry and frustrated that despite all of his success in life, he’d failed at his most important task. He’d failed to find his treasure, and for that failure, punishment would be death.

"I apologize," he said, his voice strong but his head drooping.

"For what?" I asked, dumbfounded.

He looked at me incredulous. "For killing your boyfriend."

"Ex-boyfriend," I corrected. "And he deserved what he got for trying to... How could you be sorry? Are you sorry that you saved me from him?" Suddenly I was angry. Angry at the secrets Brett had kept from me. Angry at the connection I felt to him, because I wasn't sure that he felt it too.

"Of course not," he said. "I'd rip apart anyone who tried to hurt you." His hand reached out and stroked my cheek. I felt a pulse of energy dart from his fingertips to my skin. He quickly retracted his hand. "I'm no good for you," he said.

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" I asked.

He shook his head, a sad smile on his face. "You need to leave."

"Fine," I said. "I'll meet you in the dining room. We can have breakfast and talk and maybe—"

"No," he said, shaking his head, his voice rising and becoming unsteady. "You need to leave this house. Today. Now."

I smiled, waiting for the joke, only there wasn't one. "What are you talking about?" I asked.

"It isn't safe for you here any longer."

"Not safe? After you saved me? This is probably the safest place for me," but I could sense his resistance. "Brett," I said, stepping closer to him so that I could feel his breath on my face. "I don't want to go. I want to stay here. I want to help you." I reached out to caress him and he pushed my hand away.

"How can you want to help a monster?" he demanded.

"You're not a monster," I yelled back. "You're a man, like any other.” His laugh was cynical. "Okay, maybe not like any other," I amended. "I just mean that everyone has another side to them. Everyone needs help with something. You're no different."

"Except that when other men get mad they don't try to eat the person they're arguing with." I laughed—I couldn't help it. It was a bizarre image to conjure in my head. The laughter only made Brett angrier.

"Do you think this is funny?" he asked. His eyes glowed a bright yellow and his fingers began to transform into talons. My breath caught in my throat and I stepped away from him. His eyes swam with pain as he struggled to hold the dragon inside. Puffs of smoke actually flew from his nostrils. Finally, his head snapped from side to side and his body trembled, and then he was Brett again.

He stared at me with a menacing look. "You see. I can barely keep it at bay." His eyes were hurting. "You won't go?" he asked.

I shook my head, my heart hammering. Every synapse in my brain told me to run, but every fiber of my being told me I had to stay. "Then I'll just have to make you leave," Brett said, rushing from the room.

I ran after him as he crossed the hall to my room.

"What are you doing?" I asked, as he picked up a suitcase and flung it on the bed.

"What does it look like?" he snapped.

"I'm not leaving." I pulled the suitcase off the bed and hurled it across the room. Brett retrieved it without a word and started to fill it with my clothes. My anger was bubbling over the surface, but so was my heartache. If he wanted me to go this badly, maybe I should just leave. His hand touched mine as we struggled over a dress that he was trying to put in. It sent a wild buzz of energy up my skin. I couldn't believe Brett didn't feel it too.

"This isn't even my dress," I said, holding one end of it, trying to get it away from him so I could put it back in the closet where it belonged.

"Yes it is," he yelled, "I bought it for you."

"Well I don't want it. I don't want any of the stuff you bought me."

He yanked the dress hard and it ripped down the middle. He glared at me and I glared right back at him. "Fine," he said. "Leave the clothes if you don't want them. It matters little to me." But I saw a flash of hurt in his eyes.

"Why can't I just stay?" I asked. "Let me help you find your treasure. You must have some idea of what it is."

Slowly, he shook his head. "No," he said. "I haven't a clue. I've tried everything I could think of, but none of it has done any good."

"So, let me help then. Maybe you're just searching in the wrong places."

He turned his eyes to me. "No one can help me," he said. "It's too late. I was barely able to pull myself back in my room just now. I can feel my body wanting to shift even as we talk. I have mere days left. Perhaps a week, if I'm lucky. You have to leave. It's for your own safety."

I shook my head, tears filling my eyes. "I have nowhere else to go," I said. "I've tried making a life here, a career and friends, and until I met you, I'd failed at both. You're the only good thing that has happened to me since moving to L.A. If I leave here now, the only place for me to go is back home. And I won't do that."

Doubt flickered across Brett's face. "I can't have you stay. What if I hurt you? I'd never forgive myself. Let me get you an apartment. A car. I'll handle everything. You won't have to worry and you can stay in Los Angeles as long as you’d like."

I turned on him. "You can't buy me Brett! I want to help you because I love you, not because I feel obligated to you."

"What did you say?" he asked.

I replayed my words and froze when I realized what he was getting at. "I... I said I love you." I searched myself and realized it was true. It had been since day one. Brett was my heart and soul. I couldn't leave, because my heart was tethered to this place. No, not to this place, to him.

Brett's cheeks flushed. For a moment, I thought he was going to get angry, but his hands came up to cup either side of my face and his eyes bore a look I’ll never forget. It was the first time anyone had ever looked at me like that… like I was everything.

Chapter 13

The energy between us was too intense to ignore, even for Brett. He'd tried to fight it at first, but the attraction was too palpable and I felt him slowly lose himself to his desires. His mouth descended over mine like fire on my skin. I reached my hands up, moving them across his back, feeling his muscles ripple under his skin. I tightened my grip on him, afraid he might pull away at any moment. His lips were sweet tasting and hot as hell as my tongue rolled across them, tasting him.

My heart pounded in my chest and my breath quickened. "Brett," I whispered. His response was to hoist me up and walk me backward until I felt my back crash against the wall. Instinctively I wrapped my legs around his waist. His body rolled against mine and I could feel Brett’s long, thick erection pushing against the fabric of my clothing. His mouth moved to my neck. He ran his lips over my throat. His teeth grazed the pulse at the base of my neck as my hips continued to rock against him, the bulge under the thin sheet he wore to conceal it hitting me in just the right spot.  I could feel a tingling heat burning through my core.

“Brett…” I choked out, “I want you… inside me.”

Brett's whole body burned. I could feel it even through his clothes. He swung me around and threw me down on the bed. His chest was a map of muscles—mesas and valleys highlighted in his bronze skin. He was hard as a rock and I wondered how he got this way when I never saw him work out. He pushed me back and crawled over me on the bed.

"Uh uh..." I murmured, placing one foot against his chest to stop him from getting too close. “Not just yet,” I said slyly. I backed away from him, pushing myself to the corner of the bed (which was so big it could have held eight people) and slowly unbuttoned the shirt I wore. Brett's eyes bugged out of his head as I freed my breasts He looked almost as though he would drool on himself. I reached behind my back and unhooked my bra letting my breasts bounced out, spilling into the open air, full and round. I was enjoying the hell out of the expression on his face as I toyed with him. He looked at my tits like he’d just won the lottery.

He moved across the bed, a fire flaring in his eyes. I watched him, waiting for his touch. He hands stroked over me, caressing my breasts with long, strong fingers that were surprisingly tender. I arched my back for him. "Don't be shy," I purred. He grinned and leaned into me, his tongue stroking my nipples. They grew hard as pebbles as he worked his tongue over them. It was so evident the enjoyment my body brought him and I relished in it. I’d never had a man worship me the way Brett did.

I moved closer to him, wrapping my legs around him. He stopped me, pulling my legs away one at a time and sliding his hand up and over my thighs. He undid my belt buckle with lighting speed and tore my jeans off me. He tossed them aside with a wicked grin.

"Now what?" I asked, teasing him. I licked my lips and waited to see if he'd take my hint. Brett's mind had already gone there, though, he was a step ahead of me, and when my legs parted for him, he rubbed a finger over the crotch of my panties, already soaking wet. He ripped my panties in two with ease before his tongue sank into me, lapping at the folds of my slick pussy with perfect speed and agility. I moaned and couldn't stop myself from gyrating my body under him. His hands reached out and pushed down on either side of my hips, holding me still.

"Don't move," he whispered. "I wouldn't want to bite you."

I looked down to see if he was joking and the smile in his eyes was answer enough. I laid back and tried to be still as his tongue circled my clit, sending shockwaves through my entire body. It felt as though we were meant for each other. I pushed my hips against his mouth and he worked faster, sensing my pleasure with each tremble of my body.

I wanted to taste him, too. I pushed him backwards, and he let me, lying back on the mattress. I untied the singed sheet that slung low on his waist. I saw him grin as my eyes widened into saucers. "Is that thing real?" I asked, feeling my cheeks burn for asking such a silly question.

"Last time I checked," he said. I drew him into my mouth before I could say anything else so foolish. He tasted like a cross between red wine, a deep Merlot that ripens with age, and fresh peaches. I drank his bottle, filling myself with the exotic flavors of his manhood as he moaned under me. I explored every inch of his body with my tongue.

"Are you done examining me?" he asked, teasing me now when I came up for air.

"That depends," I said. He raised an eyebrow. "On whether or not you're ready to finish what you started."

His eyes darkened and he rolled me over so that his body was on top of me now. His cock pressed against the folds of my pussy and I felt electric heat spark between us. My body flexed under his, preparing myself for his intimidatingly thick shaft. I shivered in anticipation. "Now," I said, and he thrust himself into me without waiting for another word.

I felt his mass fill me like a tidal wave covering the shore. An explosion went off inside my body. My head filled with sensations of ecstasy I'd never known existed. He looked at me with worried eyes. "Are you alright?" he whispered, worried when he saw my eyes water.

"I've never felt so alive," I told him. He smiled and pressed his lips to mine as he continued to pleasure me, his thrusts keeping time with the steady rhythm of our hearts.

His movements were gentle, but firm and focused. He let me get used to him. I loved the way he filled me so completely. We were like two puzzle pieces finding a match in one another. I moved my hips up hard to meet his, letting him know he didn't need to be gentle with me. He answered my call by pushing deeper, his cock making slick sounds as he pumped furiously in and out of me.

I screamed under him and clawed his back with my hands. His body arched and I felt his lower extremities stiffen.

My skin tingled each time his pelvis slapped mine, and soon I saw the door to a new world open before me. I stepped through it and felt my body give in to the erotic sensations that racked me now. I shuddered uncontrollably and Brett picked up the pace, pushing himself harder and faster as my body began to convulse. My heart raced and my mind stopped being able to think.

"Brett!" I screamed as he pushed into me one last time. Then the world went black except for his face, which glowed above me. His warm seed rushed into me in throbbing pulses and my head filled with light and air until my body gave out and we fell together into a deep abyss.

We laid quietly together for a long moment, his breath soothing me. "I love you," I whispered, nuzzling my head against his chest.

"It doesn't matter," he said. "This will never work." Then he fell asleep, leaving me alone with a fresh hurt and time to think.

Chapter 14

I walked towards the bus gasping for air. The idea of going home sent waves of panic through me, but I didn't know how to stop them. The sidewalk wavered and for a second I thought I might faint, then I regrouped somehow and felt my resolve steady. At least for now. For a moment last night, I'd been so certain that everything was going to work out. Brett loved me too, I'd thought. It had seemed that way when our bodies were connected. I'd almost thought I could read his mind. Then he'd said it: "This will never work."

Even after the incredible physical connection we'd shared, he still wanted me to leave. My heart had crumbled into a million pieces while he'd gone to sleep. I wondered if he had any idea how much those words had hurt me. If he knew, would he be sorry? Did he even have feelings? I was beginning to think he repressed everything about himself. Maybe he didn't even know what he wanted himself.

I'd written him a quick note and had left it on the pillow next to him. It was still early when I'd left. Brett had been snoring, but I had been certain he would wake up before night fall. I'd stopped in to say good-bye to Jeremy and let him know he'd have to lock Brett up that night. He'd actually hugged me and told me he was sorry to see me go.

Now, I was waiting for the bus to open its doors so it could whisk me back to Bliss, Idaho, where my mother was waiting to berate me until I died. I was leaving Brett against my will, but at least I was leaving with my pride intact. No putting me up in an apartment or paying my bills like I was his painted doll.

Rejected, painted doll.

I pictured the small town I was from, it's general store no bigger than a closet, one doctor for the whole town, the boys I'd either have to settle for or end up an old maid. My phone rang and I jumped, dropping it. I fumbled to pick it back up, so certain it was Brett I didn't even check the caller I.D.

"Hello," I said, breathless, my heart starting to race. My agent's voice crackled into my ear.

"Hey kid, glad I caught you. I got you an audition for today. Get to Sunset and La Brea by noon."

"Er... that might be a little difficult," I said, disappointment rushing me.

"Don't give me that. You've been out of it for weeks now. If you don't go to this one, I gotta drop you." He wasn't mean exactly, just perfunctory. He was right, too. I don't know why I was clinging to the idea of keeping my agent when I was waiting for a bus to take me back to Idaho.

I thanked him and hung up, with no intention of going. It was too late for me. The bus doors opened and my heart seized. My head felt dizzy. Maybe you're giving up too easily. But I was broke, and I was hurt and angry, and I didn't know what else to do. There was a quarter laying on the ground. I bent over and picked it up, deciding at that instant to leave it to fate. After all, fate had steered me to Brett's house, and despite all that had happened there, I was glad for the time we'd shared

"Heads I stay, tails I go." I took a deep breath and flipped the coin high into the air. Heads. Relief flooded me. I turned and headed back to Hollywood. One last audition couldn't hurt anything. If I bombed it, I could still take a later bus.

It was one of the largest casting calls I'd ever been to. The room was filled with trampy looking blondes and plastic boobs. I saw Melissa in a corner. She saw me and waved, then stuck her tongue out like a fourth grader and leaned towards the person next to her. Soon they were pointing and cackling at me.

I had no idea how I'd landed this audition. I didn't fit in with any of the girls here. They were all skinny and dressed like they were going to a club. Skin tight dresses clung to their manmade curves, making me ill. It was like they'd called me in just for a joke. I sat in a chair and pulled my phone out. I'd been hoping Brett would at least shoot me a text he woke up this morning and read my note, but nothing. Even a simple "good-bye" would have been nice.

He'd slept the whole day yesterday, or at least up until the time I'd left. I'd stayed for a while, waiting for him to get up, thinking we could talk, and had finally decided it was pointless. Maybe the extra sleep was some weird side effect of turning into a dragon. I'd let him sleep while I slipped out and spent the night on a park bench at Griffith Park. It was the same bench I'd slept on the night that Colin had tried to drive me out of the apartment by screwing another girl with a megaphone attached to the bed.

I paced the room like I usually did before an audition. The script they'd given me to go over was short and humorous. I thought the part would actually be better suited to someone like me, rather than the stick figures that permeated the room. It was a dark romantic comedy, about a woman in love with a man she couldn't have. He wasn't a dragon, he was just rich. And she was poor. It was close enough to hit home for me.

I turned and saw Leah, the floozy that Colin had brought home that time, sitting with her legs crossed and her lips pumped full of collagen. I tried to turn before she saw me but it was too late. She waved and started walking towards me. Just then, they called my name.

"Sorry," I told her, "that's me."

I ran into the room and almost knocked over a casting assistant who was trying to bring his boss a coffee. The room was dark. The glow of the lights allowed me to see some of the front row of chairs filled with people. I couldn't even see the back of the room. It was a little unusual. Generally, these rooms were brightly lit and sometimes cameras were even set up to capture your audition.

The casting director glanced down at his paper without any introduction. "Start whenever you're ready," he said. "Renee will read with you." He indicated an eighteen or nineteen year old girl on his right.

My heart hammered in my chest. How was I supposed to pretend that that girl was the man I was in love with? This was a pivotal scene. I wished I was at least reading with a cute guy, not someone who reminded me of all the things I hated about this city. I sighed. It wouldn't be the first time I bombed an audition, but if I didn't nail it, it would be the last.

"Um," I said, kicking myself for the lack of confidence in my voice. I understood this part perfectly. There was nothing to be afraid of. I reread the lines, trying to feel the emotion. "Okay, I guess. Ready."

I read the first line. It came out sounding flat and stilted. The girl reading with me didn't help. She had no personality (or maybe she was just bored) and read everything in a monotone. I tried my best to deliver the lines the way I knew they should be, but nothing helped. By the time I was done, I'd already decided to leave and go back to the bus stop. No good could come for me in Los Angeles.

"Alright, Ms. McGrath. Thank you," the casting director said. I moved toward the exit but froze when a strong voice reached out of the shadows from the back of the room.

"Let's try it again," the voice said. "I'll read with you this time. If you don't mind, that is, Ms. McGrath." Brett stepped from the shadows, his face luminous. He looked almost like a whole new person. The haggard lines were gone from his face. The pain that had been permanently etched there since I'd met him was gone. He actually looked happy. My throat dried up.

"Hi," I said, then noticed the casting director watching me a little too closely. "I mean, um, sure. Whatever you say." Brett stepped to the front of the room with me and took the script from the girl I'd just read with.

"Whenever you're ready," Brett said. I started again. This time, the words came alive. I didn't have to fake the emotions; they were there waiting for me. I moved in the body of the character, feeling everything she felt and more. By the time we had finished, the casting director was on his feet, moving towards me.

"Wonderful!" he shouted. "Perfect! Exactly right!" He began making notes and talking to another man about calling my agent. Brett pulled me aside.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"For what?" I squeaked.

"For not realizing that without you, I am nothing. For letting you walk away, when I am so madly in love with you." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "You said once that you wanted to help me find my treasure." I nodded, breathless. "Well, please. Please do help me, but we don’t need to look, I’ve found her, you just need to stay." he said.

Tears welled in my eyes. I threw my arms around his neck and he held me so tightly I could barely breathe.

He leaned his head down and whispered against the soft flesh of my neck, “Kaitlyn. The heart of the dragon.”

I could tell by the way he held me that he'd never again let me go.

Epilogue

Someone was nudging me. I opened one eye and saw Brett staring at me, a coffee in his hand.

"Ugh," I said, covering my head with the pillow. "You said I could sleep in today."

"You did," he smiled, setting the coffee on my nightstand. "It's almost noon."

I threw the pillow back and stared at him, unbelieving. "It is?" He nodded. "I can't remember the last time I slept so late."

"Well, you deserve it."

I beamed at him and held out my hands.

"Where is it? Give it to me."

He laughed. "Are you gonna start sleeping with it now?"

"No," I pouted. "But I just got it last night. It's gonna take at least another month before the thrill is gone."

"From what I hear," Brett said, handing me a golden statue with my name scrolled across the bottom, "the thrill never goes away."

I smiled and clung to my Oscar like it was a new teddy bear. Brett handed me something else.

"Check out the paper," he said. "And I think your mom sent you like fifty text messages." I rolled my eyes and opened the paper. The headline screamed at me:

POWER COUPLE SWEEPS OSCARS, KAITLYN ELLIOT WINS BEST ACTRESS

I laughed and threw the paper in the air like a rocket. "Feels good, doesn't it?" he asked. "I've still got about eight more Oscars than you, you know," he said, kissing my forehead.

"Yeah, but I'll catch up. Just you wait." I smacked his cheek lightly and he jumped into bed with me, his hands reaching out and tickling me in all the right places.

"Wait, wait!" I squealed. There was a quick knock on the door and Jeremy poked his head in. His cheeks flushed when he saw us in bed.

"Sorry," he said. "Just checking," then he winked at me and shut the door again.

Brett rolled his eyes. "It's been eight months. You'd think he'd lighten up by now."

"I don't think Jeremy is capable of lightning anything," I said. "Hey, let’s read my mom's stuff. I bet she shit a brick when I won."

Brett laughed. "So crass... so cute."

I picked my phone up, ignoring the hundred other messages I had and searching for my mother's.

"Oh my God," I mumbled.

"What? Is she still convinced I'm using you for your body?" At our wedding, my mother had tried to talk Brett out of marrying me. She was convinced that he was using me for my body and that he'd get tired of it fast and go looking for a real woman. One who wasn't so fat.

"No," I said, covering my mouth with my hands, fighting back tears rising from my giggles. "She says..." I could barely get the words out; I was choking on the laughter. "She says that... that..."

"Oh just give it to me," Brett said, swiping the phone from my hand and reading. "Darling," he looked at me. "Darling? Has she ever called you that?"

I shook my head. "First time in my life."

He continued. "Darling, I've always known you were special. I've always believed in you. You were too good for Colin. By the way, the roof in my house is leaking."

Brett tossed the phone aside and pulled me into his arms, laughing. "Tell you what," he said. "We'll invite her over next month. Really show her what she's missing out on there in Idaho."

I kissed him and felt my body tense. The passion between us hadn't slipped one bit in the last eight months, and I didn't think it ever would. "You invite my mom out if you want, only give me plenty of notice so I can make sure to book myself a weekend at Lake Tahoe."

Brett wrapped his arms around me and drew me close. His sweet scent filled my lungs, and I reveled in how lucky I was that his treasure and my dreams were one and the same.

THE END

SNOWBOUND WITH THE ALPHA

STORY DESCRIPTION

MIRA

Curvy Mira Jenkins has sworn off men. After suffering a traumatic experience at the hands of an ex-boyfriend, she just can’t get to that trusting place- not with any man. On the outside, she is a confident, together woman. Inside, she carries a residual fear and anxiety from her trauma that threatens to envelop her if she doesn’t manage to get the upper hand over it.

Following her therapist’s advice, Mira plans a much needed escape from Denver’s city life in the form of a hiking excursion through the mountain trails. So what if her friend backed out at the last minute? Mira needs her getaway to keep her sanity in check and that means she’s going with or without a hiking buddy.

CADE

Cade Donovan has seen war first hand—different battles, different countries, same senseless slaughter of humans by humans. He now spends his days holed up in his secluded estate deep in Colorado’s Rocky Mountains. He no longer has any use for the human race and leaves his home only on rare occasions like when the wolf inside of him needs to run wild.

When Cade finds an endangered hiker on an isolated trail, he is enraged at having his paradise invaded. He really has no choice. His sense of honor demands he help her, and soon she is lying in his bed while he offers his home as a sanctuary to recover from her injuries.

How did that happen?

No worries, it’s temporary. A day or two, max and then she’s gone.

There’s only one problem. This woman stirs feelings in Cade that he hasn’t felt for a very long time. The way she tames his hot temper and soothes his beast is making it very difficult for Cade to say goodbye. Not to mention the fact that his wolf wants to keep her and claim her as his mate!

Chapter 1

“Honestly, Amanda, there's nothing wrong with getting out of the city every now and then, letting yourself enjoy the wonders of nature!”

Mira Jenkins pouted into her iPhone. Her brow was furrowed in annoyance as she paced the room. Even so, she knew her pleading was in vain, she was pretty sure she was going to lose the argument, but she had to at least give it a fair shot.

“Besides, you've been cooped up indoors so long, at work and at home, you'll go crazy without some fresh air!”

She placed a hand on her thick waist, drumming her index finger and waiting for a comment back from her best friend.

“I'm sorry, Mira, I just... Look, me and Randy haven't had much time together. Dealing with work and other obligations, we haven't had any couples time! C'mon, you've got to understand. Next time? I promise I'll go with you the next time you are ready to go hiking, okay?” Her friend's voice begged on the line.

Mira paced a bit more along the floor and let out an overly dramatic sigh. She tugged at the neck of her warm, black turtleneck that rested a little too snugly against her throat.

“Alright, Amanda, I'll stop bugging you. But, when we get ready to go next time, you bring the hot chocolate, 'kay? I'll be taking the Pear Lake Trail.”

Mira smiled as she heard her girlfriend’s squeal of delight at being let off the hook, her eyes lingering briefly on the second pack on her floor.

“Okay, I promise, Mira. Thanks for understanding, hon, it's reeeeeeally important for us tonight!” Mira laughed at her friend’s voice. She sounded like a joyous puppy able to jump in the snow for the first time.

“Promise to use protection,” Mira said in a light, singsong tone, then, she heard the line go dead silent, a grin spreading along her lips.

She knew Amanda was as red as an apple at her comment. A short laugh slipped out before she disconnected the call, shaking her head. She did love to torture her friend. Shy as heck, adorably so, and so naively innocent. So different from herself.

Mira stretched her arms above her head and wandered over to the window, letting out a calm, slow breath as she eyed the view of the Rocky Mountains looming ahead in the distance. She had been hiking many times before, and loved the quiet, the invigorating exercise and the refreshing bite of chilled mountain air. The best thing about it though, was how well it served to clear her head of traumatic memories. She had tried so many different things. Not too long ago, she was afraid she was going to permanently lose her mind. It was her therapist who suggested finding solace in nature. Sure enough, once she began taking regular hikes, she found them to be like a magic elixir. When she felt anxiety building, a long hike in the mountains was like hitting a reset button.

It had been a little over a year since the constant emotional and physical abuse from her ex-boyfriend Jeremy had escalated to a peak resulting in him holding a gun to her temple, and an hours-long police stand-off. She still struggled with the memories, and there were occasional panic attacks and night terrors. But her twice-monthly excursions into the mountains were her best defense against her anxiety. They kept the crazies at bay.

She didn’t exactly have a hiker’s body. Her thick, hourglass shape stood at 5’4”, but she still made commitments to herself. Each and every time she hiked those trails, she would find the marker she had set the time before, taking it further up the mountainside. It had become her chosen way of redirecting her anger and fear and, so far, it worked.

She tugged on her jacket and gloves, shouldered her pack, and straightened to look in the mirror. Bright blue eyes stared back, like pools of water, checking absently to see how she looked. She looked tired, that’s how she looked. Tired as usual, but prepared. She was prepared to face the day ahead of her, climb that trail, and cast her worries aside.

Mira checked her pack once more, mentally ticking off each item on the checklist she kept in her head. Flares, ice picks, a small shovel, some supplies of food and water, and a medical kit. Her fingers ran along the rope she brought, checking to be sure there were no frays in the material. The rope was perfect—like new. Of course, she always packed extra clothes too, just in case. She was always cautious, and that included taking a buddy with her. Unfortunately, Amanda had been her last resort, and now that she had bailed, it was either cancel the trip altogether or risk it alone.

The week at work had been rough, and she’d had more than a few nightmares. She totally needed to find her Zen. Cancelling, Mira felt, would be detrimental to her mental health right now. This time, just this time, she’d have to take the risk of a solo hike for the sake of putting her head back in order. It was worth it.

“That's everything, I think. Oof, this thing doesn't get any lighter.”

She let out a slight wince before straightening, and adjusting the pack onto her shoulders. With a partner, she could distribute some of the gear between the two of them. Alone, her pack was bordering on way too heavy. She absentmindedly grabbed her phone before realizing what she was doing. The phone was of no use out there. The towers didn't extend that far. That was another relief. Setting her voicemail message to explain she was out hiking and wouldn't be back for a day or two, she turned her phone off and dropped it on her bed.

Mira paused before the door, smiling as she looked at a picture frame hanging on the adjacent wall. A lovely woman, looking like a far more mature version of herself was sitting in a rocking chair, holding a child in her arms.

“Take care of the place, Mom. I'll be back soon, okay?” she whispered.

It was a half-hour drive to the foot of the mountains and the sun was rising. She would have to hurry to get to the checkpoint by nightfall.

As she slid into her car, starting it and giving the engine a rev, she gripped the wheel tightly. Her jaw set, and she glared out of the windshield, her heart racing. There was a man walking on the side of the road. Was it…? He looked like…. It can’t be Jeremy. She held her breath and grasped the steering wheel until her knuckles were white just to keep her hands from trembling. She was almost on top of the guy before she realized that while there was a slight resemblance, the man was definitely not Jeremy. He’s in prison, you idiot, she chastised herself. She really needed to stop seeing apparitions of him all over the city. Just one more confirmation of how badly she needed to get out of here today and spend some time in the mountains.

The six months she had suffered gradually escalating mental and physical torment at the hands of Jeremy Mathers was bad enough to leave deep emotional scars, but that horrible afternoon that stretched into evening left her with bouts of fear and anxiety that slammed her at completely unexpected moments. PTSD was the diagnosis, but the label didn’t explain the bone deep horror that Mira experienced at times.

She didn’t like to remember that particular event, but her therapist had insisted that she go over what she could remember again and again. She remembered his face contorted with rage. She remembered being bound to a chair, a rag stuffed in her mouth. She remembered being struck repeatedly in the head with the butt of his gun. She remembered fading in and out of consciousness, and her own warm, sticky blood pouring down her face and dripping onto her lap.

She also remembered the trial and the day that Jeremy was led away in handcuffs after the final verdict of guilty. She had sworn that day that never again would she allow herself to be used like that. No way in hell.

Chapter 2

The wind howled along the wooded area. The sky above was bright blue without a cloud in sight. Purple flowers peeked out from the snow, eager to take in the sunlight and push through the cold from the recent snowfall.

A figure slowly stalked along a trail, careful to be silent in approach, a bow and arrow in hand. A primitive tool fashioned by hand, though in the hands of its owner, a deadly weapon that would not miss its mark. A semi-long bow, the tension was tight at the moment, a feathered arrow drawn back against the man's cheek.

His hazel eyes peered down the shaft of the arrow. His form was thickly muscled and yet moved easily and swiftly as a fox hunting a mouse. His body crouched to avoid detection. Cade Donovan focused on the hunt in front of him, so in tune with his efforts that everything seemed to move in slow motion. His inner beast struggled to be free of the mental and physical restraints he had put in place to do his hunting. His wolf longed to feel the blood and flesh under its claws and teeth, but he refused it. He needed his human side to be in control for this kill. It was an important exercise in maintaining his sanity.

Releasing his arrow with a steady breath, it let out a sharp, resounding thwack as it hit its target. An elderly doe collapsed without so much as a cry of pain. Lowering his bow and breathing out a sigh of relief, he approached the doe and found the arrow embedded within its heart. An instant kill. His food reserves were running low at home and he preferred to hunt his own fresh meat rather than worrying about going into town and being gawked at and gossiped about.

No, he wasn't too fond of humans. Not at all. Not after seeing what they had done to this land, to the animals, and even to their own kind. Cade was a wolf shifter, his reclusiveness honed over many years. When he did go into town, he seemed to attract more female attention than he cared to. He couldn’t help the fact that women were drawn to him. His broad shoulders, muscular physique, curt but polite mannerisms, and the unmistakable dominance he held over other males were like an aphrodisiac to the female population.

As a member of an elite military special forces squadron, Cade had seen too much war and devastation wrought by humans against humans. He spent years hardening himself against the atrocities that he was regularly exposed to, or at least he thought he was hardening himself. Apparently, though, the effects of the horrors he witnessed had been simply building, one by one. Then came the final straw—an attack on a small village that he and his team were just moments too late to stop. Villagers had been raped, tortured, beaten and slaughtered, leaving none behind.

Seeing the bodies, particularly those of women and children mangled senselessly, was too much for him to bear. It was then that he’d felt something inside himself crack. It had taken several days to dig all those graves. He could still feel the weight of the lifeless bodies on his shoulders. He retired from the military shortly thereafter, and began his slow but steady journey into seclusion and isolation.

Cade's eyes blinked rapidly, snapping him out of his memories. His breathing was rough and stilted, his bow bent and nearly snapped from his firm grip. He took a breath and stood straight, tilting his head back and taking in the scents around him, calming him once more.

“I thank you this day, for giving me the strength and focus, for granting me sustenance. May this creature’s soul rest in your arms,” he prayed to the Earth.

His words were a low, soft growl. Hazel eyes opened once again as he glanced down at his prize, removed the arrow, and used it to nick his hand. Sparing a few drops of blood on the snow, he formed a small mound of it to pay homage to the doe in thanks for giving its life to provide him with food for the days ahead.

It was an old ritual, shedding blood in thanks, as old as the tradition of hunting for one’s own food. Both had been taught him by his father, who had been taught by his father before.

Standing tall at 6'4”, Cade’s body was rippled with muscles, his normal physical training kept him fit, but shifters also tended to have fit and heavily-muscled physiques by nature anyway. He pushed some of his jet-black hair back from his eyes, instantly pausing his movements as a gunshot cut through the air.

A low growl of an uttered curse emerged from him. He grabbed the deer, tossing it over his shoulder. He moved quickly through the snow, scouting the area, his eyes narrowed. Gunshots out here near the border of his property were not too unusual, but it wasn't hunting season. Plus, this was his land. The animals in it and those that passed through were his charges.

Reaching a clearing in the forest, he blinked once to adjust his eyes to the vivid sunlight sparkling off the snow, and noticed spatters of crimson dotting it. Three men were cheering over a large moose felled before them, the moose calling out weakly in pain before being savagely bludgeoned over and over in the head in a half-hearted attempt to end its suffering.

A sharp, vivid ache bore through Cade’s skull. Dropping his load onto the ground, a feral howl emerged from his throat. They came to poach a moose on his land and cheer and congratulate themselves over their ‘victory’. It looked as though they were about to take a picture, too.

Anger raged through Cade's body, his flesh rippled and bones re-formed as black fur exploded through his skin. Another howl left his maw, as he succumbed to the painful pleasure of the transformation, that thick thirst for blood nearly overpowering him. For these creeps, he couldn’t care less. He would gladly cast them out of the world to bring peace amid the animals, to bring order once again. They should have listened to the warning howls of the wolves in the area, because now they were about to meet the greatest canine threat of all. These fools were about to learn who was really at the top of the food chain.

He felt a very slight twinge of guilt, but it was quickly overcome by the conviction that he wouldn’t allow man to harm his forest, his sanctuary, on his mountain.

No, his land would not become a senseless slaughtering ground.

Chapter 3

At the sight of the mountains and the pure snow that blanketed them, Mira smiled and inhaled deeply. The crisp fresh air pulsed through her lungs before she exhaled in a puff of white. Goodness, she missed this—this chill, the freshly fallen snow that crunched beneath her footsteps, but most of all the stillness surrounding her. She was enveloped in a feeling of utter peace and joy. It was such a relief coming out here. She was glad that Amanda's choice did not hamper her own return to these graceful slopes.

“What kind of treasures do you hold for me today?” she whispered aloud, a soft question to the mountains that stretched on forever. Her heart beat stronger. Beyond calming her and bringing her mind to focus, the mountains seemed to call to her whispering in response to her question, that she belonged here, truly belonged, more so than anywhere else.

Unfortunately, what with needing to have some money in her bank account, she had to live close enough to the city to commute daily. Besides, the few homes that dotted the mountainside were valued in the tens of millions, a price that was vastly out of her budget.

Bracing herself against the cold wind, she started ahead. Her bright blue eyes were the only thing that could be seen above the scarf tied snugly over the lower half of her face. She had the furred hood of her parka pulled down over her brows. The first few steps were always the hardest, until her momentum got going. She forced herself forward, taking silent delight in the crunching beneath her boots.

Her foot raised and crunched down again, one after the other, setting a good pace and feeling her heart rate increase bit by bit. Mira always waited for the feeling of sore legs before she took the time to rest, that pain something of a solvent for her anger and fear. Today was a little different because, without a hiking buddy, she could set her own pace and she pushed herself harder than usual, driving herself on to her destination. The last stop had been two miles ago. She aimed, this time, for the next marker and semi-exhaustion before resting.

A few miles up the trail, there was a cave that she often ducked into, after first carefully making sure that there were no wild animals taking refuge. It was a perfect spot to warm herself back up and snack on a power bar if necessary. That might be her resting place tonight, depending on how she felt when she got there. On second thought, no, she wouldn't stop there. This time she would see how far she could push herself.

After some time had passed, Mira heard a howl. She jerked her head up, her hand absently grasping for the ice pick at her side. Wolves were known to frequent the mountains, although they posed little threat as they tended to stay far away from humans. Of all the times that she had trekked through this trail, she hadn't had any issues with them. She did spot them a couple times in the far-off distance, though they fled as soon as their eyes had met hers.

Only once before had she heard a howl, but this one was different. Pain, agony, and rage were poured into that one sound, a fury unbridled. Maybe it was her imagination. How could she have interpreted all that from a wolf howl? She didn’t speak wolf. She almost laughed aloud at the absurdity of it, until she heard a second howl. The second howl sent chills down her spine and the tiny hairs at the back of her neck prickled in warning. The sound was unmistakably rage.

Mira’s stomach dropped. “Damn, what's going on?”  She stared off in the direction of the sound, her limbs trembling.

A split second later, all she could see was red. Red along her hands, on the ice picks she pulled out to defend herself, even the snow before her was stained with red. Reeling back a step, she blinked rapidly, and the image faded. Mira cursed under her breath and looked around frantically. Her pulse in her ears was a deafening throb. No, no, she couldn’t have a panic attack. Not here. Not now. But, as hard as she tried to fight it, the image returned—crimson everywhere as if the only thing she could see was blood.

Mira leaned over, taking a scoop of snow and lowering her scarf. She put some in her mouth, hoping the sharp cold would bring her focus back again. Moving her scarf back into place, she raised her head, and froze. Before her, a handful of wolves stood, ears laid flat along their skulls and fangs bared in a warning.

“Get out of here! Go!” Her words were sharp, and she brandished her ice picks swinging them threateningly towards the wolves. The movements, however, did little to intimidate them. The wolves snarled, their hackles raised and skulked forward. Mira's heart beat frantically, her grip tightening on her picks.

How could this be? How could she find herself in such danger here, in her special place? A strangled sound left her lips as she felt a sharp pain penetrate her thigh. Her reflexes were quick, and she smashed the blunt end of her pick into the wolf's head. It released her leg as it let loose a yelp and backed away a few feet. Mira's eyes teared but not from the physical pain of the bite. She had dealt with blows from Jeremy, but this pain, this pain was an extreme betrayal. Here was the one place she could go to lose herself, the one place that allowed her to paste bits of her shattered soul back together piece by piece. Her own sanctuary. These beasts were stripping her lifeline from her. Tears of anger fell from her eyes clouding her vision.

Her picks caught only air as she swung wildly at the advancing wolves. A choked, strangled sound left her lips, a loss of hope. She could just make out the form of a wolf as it jumped into the air and lunged at her. Then, through her blurred vision, she saw it batted aside as if it were a weightless pup. A mass of black fur was in front of her then, and her nostrils were filled with a warm scent of fur and sage with an odd coppery tinge. Mira felt her legs give out from under her, and she could sense herself falling as her eyes locked with the large, vivid, golden-hued eyes of a huge black wolf. She was struck by how much larger and stronger this one looked than the other wolves, and how she would make a tasty meal for it.

A second later, as her vision blackened, and the cold of the snow and wind seeped into her bones, she uttered a small prayer that she would die a painless death. Then, unconsciousness overtook her.

Chapter 4

They dared to attack a human in his territory? No, there was no excuse for it. Cade smashed aside a wolf with a backhanded swipe, his clawed paw flexing in annoyance as he glared at the wolves that had congregated around the woman. He was already pissed from the asshole humans poaching game for sport on his land, now this.

The wolves were clearly surprised to see him appear, and they instantly became submissive pups before him. Pack mentality dictated the strongest and the wisest lead. Cade was both. Cade commanded the utmost respect. However, they were all very hungry and the wolf who had been cast aside had gotten a taste of human blood. Its spirit wasn't quite broken so easily. A gruff snarl was heard, the group of dark gray wolves reluctantly surrounded Cade and formed a barrier. One wrong movement and they would launch forward, attempting to shred him to pieces. They weren't afraid to work for their meal.

But, Cade expected as much. An infuriated roar of a challenge left his muzzle. Cade swiped those crude, strong claws of his against the face of an advancing wolf, then turned quickly to knock another wolf away that lunged for the back of his neck. The next, the one that had a taste for human flesh, dove for the woman lying unconscious at Cade's feet, a backhanded swipe sent it sprawling away yet again.

The group froze again around the werewolf, unable to find an opening and certainly not ready for his counterattacks. Cade launched forward, his sharp teeth closing with a snap onto the alpha wolf’s neck, a quick jerk and the creature went limp. Nostrils flaring, Cade turned back and glared at the rest of the wolves, but the fight had left their eyes.

By pack right, Cade was the new alpha. A sharp snort escaped and Cade growled once, his wide chest swelling with intense warning. Leave. Just that one deep, guttural growl was all it took before the rest of the pack tucked their tails between their legs and scattered. The wolf that had previously bitten Mira hesitated a moment, longing for another taste of her blood, but flinching at the guttural sound from Cade's throat. Taking pity on the wolf, Cade growled quietly. The wolf's ears perked up. A fresh moose kill? At the promise of fresh meat, the wolf turned tail and ran, leaving the werewolf with the human.

Cade’s gaze scanned the woman’s body, seeing the crimson snow around her leg. His eyes narrowed in annoyance. He would have to take care of her. There was no way that he could just drop her off at the nearest hospital, which was 40 miles away. Besides, his clothes had been shredded in the unexpected change, so he would either be travelling as a large black male wolf, or a large naked male human. No, he really didn’t have a choice. He would have to take her to his home and allow her to stay, but only for as long as it took her injury to heal sufficiently. Once she could walk, he would see her on her way.

Cade carefully scooped the woman up, feeling her weight and appreciating how her soft curves pressed into his body. A small shudder coursed through him and instantly, a feeling of calm replaced his annoyance. Inhaling her scent through her clothing, he smelled fresh berries, maybe her soap or shampoo? He also smelled the coppery sweetness of her blood that had begun to dry along her thigh. He tossed her over his shoulder and moved over to his felled doe. Grasping it by the hooves, he tugged it behind him as he walked carefully back to his home.

The woman did not even stir on the way back to the house. Cade stopped to listen to her breathing every now and then to ensure that she was still deeply asleep. Her face had been so pale. He would have to close that wound up quickly.

It took about ten minutes for Cade to arrive back at his home, a huge sprawling chalet-style mansion, three levels total. He left the kill outside to be butchered later. He froze as Mira suddenly shifted in his hold. His golden eyes looked down at her cautiously, and she winced briefly before going limp again. He hurried to his bedroom and placed her gently on the bed. As he examined the bite, he gritted his teeth at the severity. Careful to not wake her, he gently unbuckled her pants, slid the zipper down swiftly and carefully worked them off of her hips, a quiet moan of discomfort from Mira giving him pause and making him go stock-still for a moment. Seconds later, he worked the pants all the way off and inspected her leg more thoroughly.

Luckily, it didn’t appear that she’d need stitches, but the wound certainly needed to be disinfected. He collected the necessary first aid materials along with a robe for her to wear. When he removed the rest of her clothing, he was surprised to feel his own body reacting with excitement to her supple, curved form lying nearly bare on his bed. It had been a very long time since he’d had that type of reaction to any woman and it caught him a bit off-guard. He felt the heat of arousal course through his veins.

Cade shook his head quickly to clear his thoughts and return them to the task at hand. He noticed a locket on her chest. It was none of his business, but curiosity about his houseguest got the better of him, and he carefully opened it half expecting to find the face of a husband or a lover. Instead, he saw an older version of the woman lying in his bed. Even for a human, the woman in the picture looked regal. He guessed her to be his houseguest’s mother or grandmother.

Perhaps his unexpected guest had no significant other. He studied her features. She was beautiful, like a goddess. A brief thought flickered through his mind. What would it feel like to wrap his arms around her in an embrace, or feel her resting her head on his chest, or lying underneath him as he made her cry out in pleasure...? He felt a tightening in his groin at the thought.

“Get a hold of yourself, idiot,” he mumbled aloud in frustration. But, in the back of his mind, he was fully aware that somehow, for some reason, this woman had felt—right in his arms, and now right on his bed. A moan of discomfort came again in her sleep. He panicked a moment, not sure how he was going to explain this situation to her, but in a second or two, the rhythm of her breathing returned to normal. He took advantage of the fact that she was in a deeper state of unconsciousness to cleanse the wound.

Cade gingerly poured hydrogen peroxide on the bite marks, watching it fizz, but keeping his focus on her body movements. She was still out cold, thank god. He spread antibiotic numbing ointment along the marks next, and gently wrapped the wound in gauze.

For someone who was as repelled by humans as he was, Cade couldn’t understand his attraction to this woman. He couldn't help but stare at her body as she lay resting. He watched her sleep. Yes, she was a goddess. Her previously furrowed brows were smoothing out now, and her lips parted lightly as she breathed. She was still pale, but Cade was confident that she would be able to heal from the damage quickly.

As he studied her, he was reminded of another reason that he liked women with thicker bodies. Besides the softness of their curves, they were far tougher and more resilient. He didn't have to worry about being extra gentle lest they snap like a twig. Cade imagined his hands grasping the softness of her hips as he ground his erect cock into her until he saw her eyes roll back in ecstasy. His body flooded with heat again, and he stifled the growl that tried to escape from his chest. He shouldn't be thinking like this; she was human. He should have felt disgusted, but disgust was the farthest thing from his mind as his eyes were drawn again and again to her curvy form. He watched how her chest rose and fell with every breath. He inhaled the scent of the warm juices at the junction of her thighs. Christ, he was acting like a damn pervert.

He forcibly pushed aside those feelings and tenderly dressed the woman in one of his warm terry cotton robes. He carefully tied the belt and made sure that she was as well covered as possible, resisting all temptation except one. He allowed himself to lean his head down slightly and inhale the scent of her neck. Maybe that was a bad choice since he nearly brushed his tongue along her flesh before he stopped himself.

After he’d moved her gently towards the top of the bed so that her head rested on the pillow, and tugged the covers over her body, a wry laugh escaped his lips. He was so used to living alone, he hadn’t even realized that he was still stark naked. It would probably not be a good idea for her to awaken to a naked stranger staring at her in her sleep, especially since his shaft had been rock-hard since he had undressed her. That would most certainly not make a good first impression, and Cade was a little surprised to realize that he definitely wanted to make a good impression. In fact, he found himself hoping that once she regained consciousness, the two of them could get to know one another bit before she left.

As he pulled some clothes out of his drawers, his eyes darted to the window. Those clouds in the sky, that was a bad sign. They were still off in the distance, but with the wind direction and speed, those blackened clouds could easily cause a severe storm in the area. He wouldn’t be able to let her leave until he was certain the storm wouldn’t strand her out on the mountain somewhere in the cold. Wonderful. Along with dealing with her wrath once she found he had stripped her down, he would have to explain that she couldn't leave yet, either. Cade let out a heavy sigh, glaring at the sky.

Tonight just wasn't going to be his night, was it?

Or, was it?

Chapter 5

Mira did not want to wake from her dream. It was so soothing, the feeling of resting atop a cloud but wrapped securely in someone's arms. It was a feeling of safety that she had longed for, but hadn’t felt in quite some time. This dream seemed to stretch on with subtle sensations like fingers brushing along her thighs, tickling at the backs of her knees, a sensual experience that left her feeling highly aroused.

Mmmm… those feather-soft touches soothing her body, that slow ache building in her belly, her breathing was slow and deep, body quivering slightly with those gentle caresses along her frame, like a tender promise. A quiet little moan slipped past her lips, her head rolled to the side and a light sheen of sweat began to form along her skin. Rolling over, she crushed the wound on her leg, sending a sharp, shooting pain through her and causing her eyes to blink open. She uttered a curse before sitting straight up, looking around the room quickly, and blinking in alarm. A tremor of fear coursed through her. This wasn't home. Where was she?

She winced and gripped her head, a flash of images racing through her consciousness, the foremost being the reason her leg hurt. Wolves. But, there were no wolves in sight here. It took another moment to figure out that she was out of her clothing. Panic raked through her. Her heart lurched into overdrive and she felt nauseous. Of course, this wasn’t the first time since “the incident” that she had awoken to a feeling like this. She was quite terrified at the moment, and felt a pulling at her thigh. Mira looked around quickly, trying to find something to use as a weapon. She noticed her clothes neatly folded on the side of the bed. A curious thing to do if someone had brought her here to have their way with her. She also felt her bikini style underwear still on, her bra as well.

But where was she? Mira looked out the window and her heart sank. The house seemed to be hidden away in the woods. What if she were being held captive? She felt the blood drain from her face, and her body began trembling. Her head seemed to be wobbling unsteadily atop her neck. She felt as though her blood sugar was low. That would make sense if she had lost a lot of blood from the wolf bite. It took her several minutes, but using a breathing technique her therapist had taught her, she was able to quell the dizziness.

Sounds of movement were coming from the other room. Footsteps, to be precise. She hastily looked around, grasping an ice pick that had been placed next to her pack. She still wasn’t convinced that she wouldn’t need to physically defend herself.

A man walked into the room. No, not just a man, the hands-down most gorgeous man Mira had ever seen. He was tall and wide with ebony hair, thick bulging muscles, and broad shoulders that any football coach would be pleased to see on one of his players. The man’s hazel eyes stirred something in her. There was something about him, something beyond his physical appearance, that drew her in. Mira was astonished when she realized that for the first time in a long, long time, she felt a strong attraction to a man. Actually, it was more than attraction, the man felt safe. The same way she had felt in her dream.

Why did the fact that she momentarily felt safe in the presence of a male stranger all of a sudden unnerve her? Because, she shouldn’t logically feel safe, right? She reminded herself of how she was clothed, or unclothed as it were, and she raised her pick into the air threateningly.

The man instantly held up his hands, as if a gun were pointed at him, and he kept himself at a distance from her. Clad in a tight-fitting black t-shirt that stretched over the bulging muscles of his chest and biceps, and low-slung jeans, he looked like someone that should be on a magazine cover, not at all like a perverted-kidnapper-sex-trafficker on the lamb and hiding away deep in the wilderness.

“Whoa now, sweetheart, I'm not gonna hurt you.” His voice had a low, deep, soothing tone. He waited a moment, watching the conflict in her eyes, before slowly lowering his hands and leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed.

“I found you out there on the trail, injured, and bleeding all over the fresh snow. Trust me, sweetheart, you don't need to keep that ice pick raised anymore. I have no desire to do anything obscene to you,” against your will, that is, he added silently. His voice, again, was a soft growling tone, though surprisingly gentle for a man of his size. Mira felt her cheeks tint briefly but only lowered the pick slightly. Her free hand tugged at the collar of the robe she wore.

“Then care to explain this? If you found me injured, you could have just transported me to a hospital. Why didn't you?” Mira's tone was clipped. She blinked in surprise when he let out a soft laugh, running his fingers through his jet-black hair.

“Not used to getting help, are you? My place was closer, and the last thing I needed was for you to bleed out on me—any more than you had,” he said, and pointed to the bedding beneath her. There was a folded towel under her that had a small amount of blood soaked into it. It was then that she noticed the neatly wrapped gauze bandage dressing her leg. That, too, was slowly becoming blood-stained.

“Getting you out of those wet clothes was a priority and the nearest hospital is a forty-minute drive west of here. I didn’t want to risk making you wait that long. You were pale enough as is. I tended to your leg and wrapped it properly as soon as possible. Though, it looks like you may have opened the wound again by tossing and turning. Bad dream?”

Mira blinked, looking down at the bloodied bandage. She lowered her pick onto the bed, before glancing back at him. He noticed her cheeks flush pink as she mumbled, “I… I have nightmares…. Bad ones.” She was still a bit suspicious, though she had to admit, he hadn't given her any reason not to trust him. If he wanted to do something to her, he could have easily done it while she was unconscious.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been rude. My name is Mira Jenkins. I apologize, I’m not used to being helped, as you mentioned,” Mira started. A roaring chuckle came from the man which, in turn, caused Mira’s lips to turn up slightly in a small half-smile.

“I’m sure it’s disorienting to wake up in a stranger’s bed in the middle of the wilderness. I’m Cade Donovan. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mira Jenkins. I’m sure that we would both have preferred to meet under a different set of circumstances, but there isn't much that can be done about that. Would you mind if I redress your wound? That bleeding needs to be stopped again.”

For such a large man, his voice wasn't very intimidating. At least, not to Mira. She took a breath, and paused before answering. She could feel the heat rise to her cheeks, and silently cursed her sudden bout of shyness.

“Yes, if you don't mind. Although, I suppose I already owe you big time for helping me out like this. I don't have much in the way of money but I would love to repay you a little as a thank you for helping me out so much.”

He laughed, waving his hand dismissively. “No, no need for that. We need you get back up to full strength so we can make the trek back down the mountain.” Mira stifled a grin when she noticed he said we.

“Alright, lay back and let's see how bad the damage is.”

Chapter 6

“Owie... Ouch!”

Mira winced as the tape was peeled away from her wounded leg, inhaling sharply. Of course, the man that saved her would have to be an absolute hunk and have an amazing personality to boot. It would be her luck to have to struggle to not fall for the guy.

“My apologies, ma’am—er, Mira,” he said, pausing at the sideways glare she gave him.

Cade offered a toothy, sheepish grin as an apology for falling into his old habits. Just a moment before, he had referred to her as ma’am and she had explained quite firmly that she didn't like to be called that, and that she would rather be called by her name.

“It's fine Cade, it's just—Ow!” Mira flinched as the gauze was peeled away, having to catch her breath at the wave of nausea the pain caused. It wasn’t the pain itself that bothered her, it was the memories that the pain evoked. She flat-out refused to look at the wound, trusting him to take care of it. But, the smell of the blood was enough to make her even queasier. His hand moved quickly to steady her leg from moving and she jerked reflexively and cowered backwards on the bed slightly. Cade froze.

“Mira, are you... alright?” he questioned softly, confused by the look of fear that was anchored on her face.

She nodded hastily, swallowing hard and struggling to breathe. “Y-Yes, I'm sorry, just... just continue, please,” Mira’s voice trembled and she was very obviously struggling to catch her breath. Her fingers gripped the blankets tightly. She knew Cade was watching her. She looked away, but he noticed her knuckles turning white from the death-grip she had on the sheets.

He isn't going to hurt you, Mira, just calm down.

She tried to gain control of herself. Her breathing was ragged and her head sunk down into the pillow as she tried to slow her heartrate down. She was already sweating profusely, but now she trembled bodily from the fear that plagued her.

Cade sighed quietly, he didn’t know what trauma she had endured in her past to cause this type of reaction, but he understood what she was going through. He also knew that he had to put a lid on his own anger that was rising to the surface as he watched her suffer. He wanted to kill whoever had hurt this beautiful goddess of a woman. His wolf was enraged—clawing at his insides to get out and seek its vengeance for her. Cade knew he had to remain calm, though, for Mira’s sake. The last thing she needed in her state was to sense anger emanating from him. He reached with slow, exaggerated movements to pull the covers up, holding them out to her.

“If you feel comfortable enough, put this over your head. That way you won't be startled as easily. Plus, you won't see the blood.” He was genuinely worried about her. Trying to ignore the humiliation she felt, she nodded once and swallowed, pulling the covers over her head and grasping onto them tightly.

Mira had a silent conversation with herself about how gentle and kind this man had been and after several minutes, she actually did seem to be feeling more at ease. Her breathing calmed, but she shivered as she felt his fingertips brush along the edges of the bandage. His touch sent tingles through her and she was glad that the blanket was over her face.

The touches were careful and rather intimate, whether they intended to be or not. The shock of a cool rag made her flinch for moment, and then she relaxed as he tenderly dabbed at the wound. He movements were so caring, he damn near had a lover's touch. Mira felt the cool drip of a cleansing agent before the small sting of pain. She knew the peroxide was bubbling, killing bacteria. She relaxed entirely as Cade wiped it away and spread an ointment along the wound.

“I'm going to put the gauze and tape on again, you'll feel some pressure.” Cade's voice was somewhat muffled as she listened through the blanket.

Mira nodded slightly, able to withstand the procedure easier now. His hands moved expertly along her flesh, smoothing out the gauze. Mira barely noticing him lifting her leg to gently wrap and tape the underside.

She was calm by the time Cade was satisfied with his workmanship. When he reached up and slowly eased the covers down, Mira squinted at the light.

“All finished. How does it feel?”

“Much better now, thank you.” She shifted and pushed the cover off her, careful not to pull on the bandage too much. He had done a tremendous job. Not only had he cleaned and dressed the wound, but he had applied a plastic covering and waterproof tape over the gauze.

It was so curious. How could she feel this calm with him? She couldn’t figure it out. After the start of the panic attack a few minutes ago, she should be in full-blown hysteria mode by now, but, instead, he had managed to calm her. When she met his gaze again, the look in his eyes make her heart skip a beat. Oh, my. Was it her imagination, or was he staring at her with a look that seemed more than friendly? Mira felt a warmth flow through her and she shifted her bottom back a little on the bed. Cade took that as a sign that he was too close to her. He responded by taking a step backwards. He placed the soiled bandages in a bag and sealed it before returning the items to his medical kit.

“I never did ask, what exactly happened? Those bite marks suggest wolves but I didn't see any when I arrived.”

Cade’s question caught her off guard. Mira rubbed the back of her neck, glancing to the side as she tried to recall what happened.

Cade’s eyes were on her. His question was meant to provide him with information about how much she had seen, and if perhaps, she’d seen him shift at any point.

“Well, it was all a blur... One minute I heard a howl of a pissed off wolf, the next minute, I was surrounded by a pack of them. I didn't even see them surround me. I remember trying to fight them off, one biting me, then…” She paused, frowning slightly, then shaking her head slowly she smiled apologetically at him. “It sounds silly, but... I think that there was a bigger wolf that came to help me out. I just remember a huge one with black fur, and it launched another wolf to the side as if it weighed nothing, and then... Well, I woke up here.”

She shook her head and chuckled slightly. “I swear, I'm not crazy. That wolf was huge—like it could stand up like a human without a problem,” said Mira.

Cade let out a sigh. He nodded and stood after a moment, his eyes looked softly at her. “I believe you. There are many odd things that go on in these woods. I've lived here most of my life, so I can attest to that. Just be careful, other people may think you lost too much blood and became delusional.” Cade offered her a wide grin, winking at her.

Mira's face turned bright red. Even with her blood loss, she could still blush just as easily as ever. Clearing her throat, she shook her head and pouted at him. She noticed an odd look flicker across his features, something akin to worry, but it was gone in an instant.

“I'll get you some food. I hope that venison and mashed potatoes will be good enough for you. I don't exactly have much of a talent for cooking.” Cade laughed. Mira smiled and pressed a hand to her growling stomach as it an answered him.

“That sounds amazing, Cade. Really, you are a godsend. I'm starving!” Mira was able to laugh and joke with a complete stranger, and a man, no less. She didn’t dwell on it, but something within her was perplexed and maybe a little bothered by that. She released a giggle at the dramatic bow Cade gave her before promptly turning to go to fix her a plate.

Catching herself staring after him, she had to force herself to admit, she was falling for the man, and so easily it scared her.

Chapter 7

Cade shuffled around the kitchen, heating up the prepared plate in the microwave. His hands pressed into the counter and gripped it tightly. She had ended up spotting him. He had been nervous about that. It might complicate things if she figured it out. Cade closed his eyes and let out a slow breath trying to clear her perfume from his nose.

It wasn't too heavy on her, and it matched her natural scent so well. He was honestly surprised that he didn't tent his pants in front of her as he had fixed her bandage. Granted, if not for the blanket over her head, he would have seen her face in pain and become even angrier. He was already pissed that the wolves had dared to attack an innocent on his territory, let alone a female. If she went back to the rangers and told them, they might start to scour the area which would definitely disrupt his lifestyle.

Well, Cade would have to just hope for the best and pray that she wouldn't offer up too much information and jeopardize his existence here. This woman, Mira, was no dimwit. She had a good head on her shoulders, an intelligent spark in her eyes—one that intrigued him. That, of course, and her figure, curved in all the right places. He always did like women with some meat on their bones, so to speak. Above all else, though, it was her spirit that called to him.

It was obvious that she was damaged in some way. He saw how she had flinched at any sudden movement he made. Plus, he knew she wouldn't have hesitated to try to defend herself with the ice pick if he had advanced without receiving her permission first. He had no doubt that she’d suffered abuse in her past.

But, if that were the case, how could she so easily allow him to be in her presence? That still threw him. How she could let a perfect stranger so close to her? Perhaps she felt the attraction, as well. Cade chuckled to himself, or perhaps that was his wishful thinking, right there.

Although, she sure had taken his flirtation well, blushing as she did. Surely, that was some sort of a sign.

Why did he care if she blushed or not? What did these human female's feelings have to do with him? A growl rumbled in his chest, and his shoulders lowered in defeat. Cade was struggling internally, but he had to admit it. He could no longer deny the facts. In only a matter of hours, he was falling for the human.

The ding of the microwave brought Cade back into the present. He removed the plate and grabbed some silverware before heading back to the room. When he reached the doorway, he paused, staring at Mira. She was sitting up, leaning against the bed frame with her head tilted to the side, as if asleep. He stepped forward, quietly clearing his throat.

Mira mumbled something sleepily while rubbing her eyes before smiling at him. Cade found her tired smile adorable. What a turn his day had taken. He hated strangers and valued his privacy above all else, yet he was actually enjoying having a stranger share his home with him. He placed the plate on her lap, careful to not set it near her wound, and they both smiled when her stomach gurgled again. He leaned over to grab a tray table from behind the headboard and slide it next to her.

“There, that should be much easier for you. Swing your legs to the side, here...”

His voice was tender, as he moved the blanket and reached an arm under her knees turning her sideways so her feet dangled off the bed. His hand lingered along her thigh a couple extra seconds before he realized and removed it quickly, taking a step back. He set the utensils down on the tray for her and sat in a chair a few feet from the bed.

He watched as she picked up the silverware. “Thank you, Cade, it smells amazing,” she said, and directed a brilliant smile at him.

Cade felt his chest tighten. God, he wanted that woman in his arms, crying his name. Swallowing dryly, he merely nodded as he watched her take the first bite. She chewed and swallowed, her bright blue eyes staring at him the whole time.

“And you say you don't know how to cook. This is delicious,” she stated.

He was flattered by her sincere praise. He didn't know why pleasing her meant so much to him, though the wolf within rumbled in appreciation. He watched Mira eat hungrily, amazed that she ate as he did. She must have been starving. Wolfing down her food with a hearty appetite.

“A good appetite means that you are healing well and are healthy. That's good to know,” a light tease came from Cade causing Mira to chuckle and turn that lovely shade of pink again. God, he loved how she blushed so easily. Beautiful.

Though he didn't bother her any further while she ate, he absently glanced at her from time to time out of the corner of his eye. His hungry glance met the trail of some juice slipping down the side of her lips before her tongue swiftly lapped it up. He couldn’t help but wonder what else she could do with that tongue. He closed his eyes a moment just listening to her eat, and he dozed off momentarily in the chair with his head propped on his fist. After a few minutes of resting, his head slipped causing him to jerk back up and glance around the room.

Mira was covering her mouth, eyes full of mirth. When he directing a half-hearted scowl at her, she burst into a fit of giggles with an arm wrapped around her stomach as the other hand over her mouth, desperately trying to contain the sounds emitting from her lips. Muttering under his breath, Cade couldn't help but struggle to contain his own laughter.

He stood and stretched, his muscles rippling and couldn’t help the inner smirk of satisfaction as he noticed that she was watching his every movement with a lust-filled gaze. Like what you see, little Mira? God, he wanted to wet those luscious lips of hers

“Now that you’re done eating and amusing yourself at me expense, maybe you’d like to take a bath or shower? I think it might help you relax.”

Cade’s voice was calm. He slid the tray table to the side easily. Mira blinked at him, caught off guard by his suggestion. He noticed the hesitant look in her eyes and shook his head motioning to the bathroom. “I’ll not peek in unless you need me, alright? You shout if you need anything.”

It was important to him that she was satisfied with his answer. Glancing back at her, he was a little surprised when she pressed her hand to her leg and said, “I... can’t very well hold my weight on it yet, so... do you think you could help me in there and start a bath for me?”

Mira's voice was soft and the imploring look on her face made Cade's heart skip a full beat. Containing himself, but only barely, he nodded and leaned over, scooping her up into his arms.

“Just take it easy, don't tense your leg.”

She felt so warm and soft in his arms. Her lovely scent wafting up to his nostrils. It took some effort to not press his face into the woman's neck and inhale, though another scent piqued his interest even more. As her legs shifted on his arm, he smelled her arousal. Cade felt a tightening in his groin as he pulled her even tighter to his chest and turned toward the bathroom in a sexual-tension-filled silence.

Chapter 8

Mira curled her head against Cade's shoulder breathing in and out deeply, finding his scent to be intoxicating. It amazed her that he could so easily lift her, as though she weighed next to nothing. His taut chest muscles were driving her crazy. With so much strength, and so much muscle, he could easily take advantage of her. Yet, he was gentle. He was tender even when he didn’t have to be. She was a stranger, someone that he found injured out on a hiking trail. He could just as soon have left her there alone, yet here he was going out of his way to care for her.

She hoped that he couldn't feel the quickening of her heartbeat, or hear her shallow breathing. But, damn, it felt good to be wrapped up in his warmth. She wondered idly how it would be to have this man making love to her. The thought turned her face a bright scarlet hue, and her hand gripped his arm a bit tighter.

“Are you hurting?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. God, he was just so kind and caring, her heart melted.

“No, no I’m not. I'm sorry that I can't move yet, making you carry me like this. I know I'm not exactly light.”

Rumbling laughter came from him a moment later. “You're perf... I mean, you’re not heavy at all.”

Perhaps he was as attracted to her as she was to him? A curious little thought.

When they entered the bathroom, she swung her head around, mouth agape. The room was huge with a sealed cherry wood slat floor and a sink and tub that both looked like they were carved from a massive slab of pure white marble. The faucets and fixtures were golden, plated or real, she wasn't quite sure. Just how much money did this man have, anyway?

“It's... goodness. It's beautiful!” Mira's awed gasp made Cade smile widely. He stepped over to a chair, gently setting her on it as he leaned over and started the bath. Mira watched as he wandered to a wall cabinet and opened it to reveal numerous bottles and jars, unmarked and filled with what appeared to be different herbs.

“Not allergic to marigolds, are you?”

“No, calendula is fine. I thought that was just an old wives tale, though, that calendula could help the healing process?” Mira thrilled at the proud look in his eyes. He seemed to like that she knew a bit about herbal remedies. He shook his head, taking the jar and emptying a good handful into a pouch, putting it under the steaming water and crushing it between his fingers.

“My mother used it on me many times when I was little and I felt better after soaking in it for a while. It's been used continually through the years, though not many still believe in it since over the counter medicines get quicker results.”

Cade got quiet, suggesting to Mira that he was lost in old memories. His voice held a fondness when he mentioned his mother that made Mira's heart swell.

“Your mother sounds very wise. What does she think of you being way out in the mountains here, by yourself?”

Mira’s smile faltered when the warmth left his face. He turned and smiled at her, but she noticed that the smile didn't reach his eyes.

“She passed several years ago, sadly. She lived a good life, and was a strong, admirable woman. Like you.” He looked back at the satchel of Calendula soaking in the tub, his brows slightly furrowed.

Mira’s mood sunk. “I'm not very strong. In fact, it's been proven time and time again that I'm too weak for my own good.” Her voice was quiet, her eyes looking down at her feet. She suddenly felt quite small in that spacious room. She could hear a man’s laugh in her mind, whispering that she would never escape her weakness, that she was nothing, not worthy to walk the earth. When she looked up, Mira blinked several times at Cade's fierce gaze.

“I don’t want to hear another word like that. You tried to fight off wolves that had every intention of making you their meal, woke up in a stranger's house and instantly found a weapon to defend yourself, allowed me to dress your wound with nothing but the covers shielding you, don’t you dare try to tell me that you’re not strong. Lady, you are as strong as steel.” Cade's tone was not only earnest, it was passionate. Mira’s lips parted in silent shock. He leaned down slightly and lifted her chin with his forefinger and thumb, his eyes nearly golden in color.

Wait, golden? That color was familiar, that exact color. Where had she seen it before? The large wolf. Mira's head tilted back a little as he lifted her chin, and a small shiver coursed through her at the electric feel of his touch. She had felt the same electricity from his fingertips on her thigh as he changed her bandage, but this was a far more intimate gesture. She couldn’t help it, she felt herself lean towards him, looking into those half-golden, half-hazel eyes, their lips inches from one another.

She could hear her heart beating, ringing loudly in her ears, her soft lips brushed gently along his. As she pulled away, she saw Cade’s eyes almost glow before they darkened again, a hungry look crossing his face. He responded, in turn, by sealing his lips firmly against hers, stealing the breath from her lungs as he snaked his arm around her arched back.

He tasted amazing, just the right amount of spice along his tongue to draw her in deeper, the musk of his skin tickling her nose. His tongue played so delicately with hers, teeth pressing against her lips and tongue causing an involuntary moan to escape her lips.

Cade’s hand pressed into her lower back, and Mira felt a fire race along her skin. Goosebumps dotted her hypersensitive flesh. She could barely breathe as his grip pulled her in towards him, and she felt his body heat spike in response to the sensual contact. Her arms curled up around the back of his shoulders, craning her neck into the increasingly explosive kiss, and feeling his tongue dominate her mouth.

As quickly as it started, it was over. Cade withdrew his lips from hers, and he instantly wrapped his other arm around her, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. Mira could hear his heart beating rapidly as well. She felt her own pulse through her very teeth. She gasped short little gulps of air to try and settle herself down. Damn, that was what you call a moment of extreme passion. She didn’t want to let go of him, didn’t want him to let go of her. The warm embrace led her mind to naughty thoughts.

A shallow laugh slipped from her lips and he loosened his hold enough to lean his head back and look at her. She was breathless and he was pleased to witness the glow of pleasure beaming from her face. He made this goddess sparkle with just a kiss. What else could he do if he tried harder?

“That was... god, that was amazing. Here I am, kissing a stranger, loving it, and... ooh, what would Amanda think?” Her cheeks flamed again, though her radiant smile hadn't left her face. He returned her quiet laughter as he slowly, reluctantly, released her, and knelt before her.

“I’ll apologize to her later, then. Though, I won’t regret a moment of it,” a warm rumble came from him, and he grasped her hand and pressed a tender kiss along her knuckles, before clearing his throat, and standing once more.

“Now, how did you want this to work?”

Mira blinked at him in confusion, having forgotten that they had come in here so that she could have a bath. She shuffled anxiously a moment as she watched him remove the satchel from the steaming hot bath water and place it in the sink to dry out.

“Well, you could always join me,” she replied, only half-teasing. She hadn't quite expected the heated gaze that he suddenly focused onto her. She gave an impish little smile, wincing briefly as she shifted and pressed her palm to her leg. “J-Joking, ouch... um, well, I could undress, and...,” she trailed off, looking at him shyly, watching a vein along his jaw throb briefly from her teasing temptation. Now that she thought about it, she truly wouldn't mind it if he were to join her. Cade shook his head once, closing his eyes and offering his hand to her.

“Strip down, I'll help you into the tub. The bandage has sealed the wound, so don't worry about it. Best to not allow the water to touch it at the moment, that could cause more pain, and it's an annoyance to dry it out afterward. Don't worry, I won't look,” His reply was courteous and gentlemanly, yet as her eyes traveled down, an outline of the hard length in his pants was clearly evident.

Mira murmured in agreement, untying the robe and hefting herself, not too gracefully, on one leg, her hand grasped his tightly for stability. Even without opening his eyes, his reaction was swift. His other hand came up quickly, then slowed as it neared her body, pressing against her shoulder, allowing her to use both hands to remove her bra.

She struggled a moment before sliding it over her shoulders. His hand moved and returned as the straps slid down her arms and the bra dropped to the floor. Now she had to tackle getting her legs free from her underwear. Biting her tongue and stifling little whimpers of pain, she shimmied her way out of her panties and gasped as he scooped her into his arms again.

Even now, his eyes were closed, scrunched together tightly as if he were battling with himself to not look. He turned slightly, feeling the marble with his toes and slowly lowered her body into the water.

While not bubbly, the bathwater had a decent film from the preserved flowers. Her body arched ever so slightly as he lowered her into the tub. The water was steaming hot to her bare skin, though once her body got used to it, a soft low moan of delight escaped her and she relaxed entirely in the soothing warmth. Cade slowly withdrew his arms and smiled at her soft moans.

It killed him, but he did say that he wasn't going to look. If she ever gave him permission, however, he'd make her body tremble in ecstasy.

Chapter 9

Although his eyes were closed, Cade could hear her settling in the water, and he felt the lovely and invigorating tingle of the calendula spread along his own arms where he had immersed them. Mira let out another little sigh of bliss, and he felt peaceful himself. He was sitting on the floor, back pressed up against the marble tub, allowing its natural coolness to temper his heat.

With his heightened sense of hearing, he could tell when her breathing deepened, and her heartbeat softened. He was severely tempted to sneak a peek at his goddess in the water, though didn't quite trust himself to look without touching, so, he simply rested his head back against the marble.

“Um… Cade? I was wondering if... could you help me wash myself? I still don't have all my strength.” the bold request from the shy little human jarred him and he had to actively resist the urge to swing his head around and study her expression. Was she joking? Trying to seduce him? What?

“To do that, you realize, I would have to look at you.” He couldn't keep the lust out of his tone, nor her soft, supple skin off of his mind.

Mira was quiet for a moment before again shifting herself in the bath water. Cade stiffened briefly when he felt her fingertips brush his neck, and then he let out a relaxed breath as she traced small circles along his skin.

“Yes, Cade, I know you’ll have to look at me.” Mira's voice was slightly hesitant, but firm. He slowly turned his head and looked into her eyes. As they made eye contact, Cade watched her spark grow, passion spreading through her until it became a fiery inferno that she transferred to him through her fevered gaze.

Electricity crackled between them. Cade glanced down, taking a sharp breath in. Soft, pale skin just beneath the water, the tops of her breasts glistened with water droplets, Mira's cheeks tinged with a lovely little tint brought on by the heat of the bath mixed with honest passion. He moved slowly, so as not to startle her, and grabbed a rarely used loofa, spreading some concentrated clove liquid soap along it, massaging it slowly in front of her face. He dipped it in the water once, stroked it and built a lather.

“Lean forward, sweetheart, back first,” he said, in a quiet growling tone.

He placed two fingers behind her neck, encouraging her to lean forward. He massaged her skin with the soap-covered loofa, spreading the lather along her back. Cade smiled at her sighs. He loved giving her pleasure. He could become addicted to this.

With each stroke of the loofa, he used his other hand, pressing his thumb into the tense knots, slowly work them out. He frowned at feeling so many knots and kinks, and now that he looked closer, he could also see a few scars. Small ones dotted her back, but some were more like angry slashes there as well. It looked almost as if she’d had to defended herself. He felt his wolf become irate at discovering more injuries on her and soon his wolf was battling for control. Cade was able to stifle him, but what the hell? What was wrong with his damned wolf? He certainly didn’t want to terrify the woman. She'd evidently had enough of that in her life.

Even without her speaking about it, he could tell that this lovely creature had been a victim not once, but countless times. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss on the back of her neck, smiling as he felt her shiver and moan quietly. By the sound of it, Mira was deeply relaxed from his efforts to work out her tension. He let his hand dip into the water, setting the loofa to the side and massaging her back, mindful of the marks.

“Mmm—Cade that feels... ahh...” She shuddered and arched against his hands. Her head tilted to the side as he planted gentle kisses along her neck. It had been a while since anyone had treated her so tenderly, and this was an unbelievably intimate experience for her. Not only was she highly aroused, but she also felt safe with him, even while her heart was pumping hard in her chest and her arms were limp at her sides. This was amazing, experiencing Cade’s rough, yet gentle hands along her back, her muscles loosened entirely and she closed her eyes.

A soft bite made her gasp, goosebumps rising along her flesh, though rather than pull away, she leaned into it. His affectionate touches were getting... rougher? She glanced at him. Cade cupped her cheeks and drew her head to the side, pressing his lips against hers with far more hunger this time. Mira let out a shaky moan as he nibbled her bottom lip. Her body leaned into him deepening the kiss of her own accord.

Cade increased the ferocity of his kiss and accompanied it with his tender touches. Lather slid down her neck and he gently swirled the loofa just above her breasts. Mira hadn't felt a lust like this in a very long time—maybe ever. God, she wanted this man. She wanted all of him. Without the loofa, his hand moved to her breasts massaging them with slick, soapy later.

His grip became stronger and he firmly squeezed and massaged her ample breasts. How could a man handle her breasts so gently and yet so roughly? He raked his fingertips along her sensitive skin, leaving pleasure-filled welts, and scraped gently over her nipples. He pinched her tightly pebbled nipples between his thumb and forefinger as his mouth began a sweet assault of her neck.

He kissed, licked, sucked, and nipped at the flesh of her neck. Her body was writhing in pleasure as Cade raked his teeth down to her throat while his strong hands massaging the underside of her breasts and flicked her nipples.

“Cade, please, I... Mmm...” a whisper of a cry left Mira's lips, but Cade continued pleasuring her, roughly twisting her nipple, before stroking it soothingly. Every inch of her body felt alive with the electricity of his touch.

His hand slid over her soft belly creeping its way downward while the other hand continued to stroke her breast, his eyes were now watching her reaction. Mira's eyes met Cade's and she moaned as his hand dipped suddenly down, fingers brushing over the lips of her sex.

For someone that had been so terrified of men, she couldn't seem to get enough of this one. Her body jerked and writhed against his teasing fingers in anticipation. The corner of his mouth turned up before he leaned in to place another bite on her neck.

“Careful, you'll spill all the water out of the tub,” Cade whispered against her ear, a teasing tone to his voice. Mira tried to summon a glare for him, but couldn’t quite manage it when his finger suddenly slipped inside her. Another shaky sound left her throat and he swiftly pressed his mouth to hers, muffling the sound and grinning lightly against her lips. He swallowed down every sound she made, relishing the muffled moans of bliss. Her body arched against his hand, begging for more.

His finger moved slowly, grinding deep within and sliding back out slowly, and then he added a second finger, filling her completely. Her insides clenched snugly at his digits. She was practically purring, lost in the blinding pleasure of his touch. When his thumb brushed against her clit, her eyes widened at the shocks of pleasure that shot through her body. His thumb massaged circles around her sensitive nub as his fingers thrust into and back out of her pussy, making her toes curl from the pleasure. She could feel the warm tingle building and building, her eyes watering from her body’s hyper-arousal. She felt light-headed from the overwhelming sensations. Mira struggled to speak, to warn him, but he kept his mouth bearing down on hers. A firm bite of her lower lip made her fall apart.

Her scream was muffled by his mouth, her body arched and her hands clutched at his forearm tightly. She felt herself reflexively tremble. A searing pleasure that started in her core shot through her to every nerve ending in her body. Cade was aware of each tiny reaction, and the hand that had been stroking her breast was quickly rerouted. He curled his arm around her tightly, holding her securely as he continued to pump and flick her pussy, making damn sure that she was spent.

Mira’s thrashing eventually stopped and she collapsed back against the arm that held her. Her breathing was shallow, her body still a spasmodic delight of sensations. Cade reveled in the look on her face—a hint of a smile bathed in the warm afterglow of intense release. He would love nothing more than to be the man who put that look on her face every day for the rest of her life.

“That was amazing. I didn't know it could be that powerful.” Her cheeks had a pinkish tint, a sex-glow.

Cade beamed with pride. “You need some rest; it’s off to bed with you,” he said. Unbeknownst to him, his eyes glowed a beautiful golden color. Mira smiled as she recognized the color. He lifted her out of the tub and wrapped her in a fluffy terry towel.

She relaxed against her wolf, her fierce protector.

Chapter 10

She looks like an angel Cade thought as he watched her lying on his bed sleeping heavily. Her face was softer than before. It made his inner wolf even more protective of her, and he was finally ready to face the reason why. He had to shake his head at the unlikelihood of it, but even out here in the mountains surrounded by thousands of acres of wilderness, fate had delivered to him his mate.

His astonishment was short-lived as icy fingers of fear suddenly snaked down his spine. He began pacing the room. What would happen when the storm died down, and her leg healed sufficiently? Cade smothered a growl. What, exactly, did he wish to gain from this? A lover, a beloved, a play toy? Certainly not just a play toy, his feelings for her were far too strong. Mira shifted on the bed and let out a contented little sigh. His shaft was rock-hard at this point, the desire to bed her was overwhelming. He didn’t trust himself to lie beside her.

He thought about how open she’d been to his touches, smiling at him and granting him permission. His cock throbbed at the thought and he realized that he hadn’t relieved himself in so long, he was afraid that he might just cum as soon as his cock touched her. He desperately wanted to wake her and caress her, pleasure her, fill her. He wanted to hear her scream out his name, though now he was certain that he desired more than a simple rutting.

He wanted to make love to her. He wanted her to feel cherished and loved. Actually, if he were to be honest with himself, he wanted her to feel like the only place she belonged was with him. His wolf was determined to make that happen. For once, he was inclined to agree with his wolf, but how? He would have to win her over fully before she would agree to stay here as his mate. He would have to confess to her that the large, black wolf that she claimed to have seen wasn’t a wolf in the traditional sense. Yes, he had a lot of work to do with his little mate, and for that, he needed time. How much, though?

Forcing himself to be still, he sat on a chair by the window staring through the slight separation in the draperies and watching the storm. Wind angrily hurled and whipped snow through the air. He let himself close his eyes and rest for a short time.

His lovely goddess was awake, wide awake, and so was his cock. In fact, it was free from the confines of his pants and standing boldly at attention, mere inches from her flirtatiously brazen grin. His look of surprise earned him a small giggle from her.  A sudden dart of her tongue along his shaft, made him grip the chair’s arms tightly and that’s when he noticed he was unable to move his arms freely. Each arm had a length of rope expertly tied around it, binding it to the chair.

“What are you up to, sweetheart?” Cade questioned. Before answering, she took a slow, leisurely lick from the base of his cock to the tip, suckling on the delicate underside, enticing the groan that escaped his lips.

“Well, Cade, I’m squeezing you for information. That’s what I’m up to. I want the truth, and I doubt you’d hand it over easily, but... I need to know.  You were the one that saved me, weren't you? You were the wolf.” Mira's eyes bore into him. She gently kissed the tip of his swollen cock, never breaking eye contact.

A heated look passed over his features, a mixture of anger, fear, and confusion. He had no right to be angry with her, but how had she figured it out? His body jolted as her lips opened, slipping onto his dick and sliding all the way down, taking it all in her mouth, constricting her throat around the delicate muscle as she nuzzled the fuzz at its base with her nose.

Cade let out a ragged sound—a mix of a growl and moan. His hips lifted off of the chair and his pelvis ground against her face. After a few seconds, she slid her mouth slowly back up. His eyes were riveted to the sight of her saliva along his dick, a string of it dangling from her lips to the tip. His goddess was a vixen. A lovely little vixen.

Mira smiled at that look in his eyes, “Answer me, Cade.” Her hand gently stroked his shaft while the other fondled his balls. His head tilted back in bliss. She knew how to both torture and pleasure him, it seemed. Her touch was skilled, teasing him and leaving him breathless. Finally, he couldn't take anymore.

“F-Fuck, Mir... yes! Dammit, it was me, I'm... augh, no, don't squeeze so much, I'll-,” Cade started, and then groaned as the tip of his cock found the back of her throat again as a reward for his honesty. His hands gripped the armrests of the chair tightly, so tightly that the wood creak dangerously under his hold.

“You answered truthfully. Thank you, Cade.” She flashed him a radiant smile, full of adoration, before hungrily devouring his cock once more. Her head bobbed up and down, the suction so hard that it made Cade jerk his hips. One of her hands pressed against his stomach to still him, the other held her hair back from her face so he could get a good view of his cock as it slid in and out of her mouth. She watched his elation as she sucked on him, skillfully manipulating him towards a release in her throat.

A sharp growl left Cade’s throat and he jerked, powerless to stop his climax. His member throbbed and his seed suddenly exploded from him in a series of pulsing spurts as he continued to thrust against her lips as best he could. Her mouth milked his length for all it was worth, every last drop. He moaned out loudly, again and again, feeling the beast inside of him rear up, demanding he claim her. He barely had the will to resist. He couldn’t live with himself if he hurt her, or scared her, though in the next moment, his bindings fell away and Mira stood smiling in front of him—bare naked as a babe.

A single thought filled her mind, as she stood offering herself to him, her injured leg shaking. Did he know? Did he know that he more than saved her life from a pack of wolves; he saved her from herself. He saved her from her own fears and anxieties. He allowed her to feel safe again. This man, in less than a day, captured her heart and soul. She needed to be with him.

Cade understood the look in her eyes and expression on her face. She needed him as much as he needed her. He stood, kicked off his pants and boxers that had fallen down around his ankles, and tugged off his shirt tossing it to the floor. His fast movement caused her to stumble backwards slightly, but Cade caught her in his arms and lifted her from the ground, cupping her rear, encouraging her to wrap her good leg around him.

He could smell her arousal. In fact, she had been dripping wet from the moment she tied him up and took his manhood in her mouth. Mira’s good leg was curled around his waist and his lips descended over hers fiercely. He walked with her as their tongues intertwined passionately and his erection poked between her thighs, teasing her.

He carried her into the living room and carefully placed her on the bearskin rug that covered the floor in front of a huge fireplace lit with a roaring fire. The werewolf and his goddess.

Chapter 11

“Cade, are you alright?” She stared with concern at the man above her whose golden eyes were glassy. Cade let out a small chuckle, nodding once.

“There’s something else I need to tell you.” The flames flickered, bathing him in a soft warm glow. “What I am, it’s called a shifter, a wolf shifter. My kind, werewolves, only ever have one true mate. Only one woman that we can bond completely with. Most of us never find our mate. As a wolf shifter, I’ve always known this. Well, today, I found her.” He paused as Mira let his words sink in. He lowered his cheek to hers and his lips brushed against her earlobe. His voice was a raspy whisper. “You are mine, Mira. Stay with me; marry me. Be my mate… Please.”

“Cade, I…” she began.

“Wait, ummm… there’s more.” He sounded slightly panicked. “I will always protect you, look after you and keep you safe.”

Her lips curled in a radiant smile. “I…” she resumed.

“Wait… and I will always love you. Always. This I promise you with my whole heart.”

“Done now?” she asked, her choked voice barely above a whisper. He nodded. “Then, yes. Yes… to everything.”

In one smooth movement, Cade caught her neck in his mouth and thrust his hips forward, burying his length deep inside her. A choked whimper came from her throat and rolled over her tongue as she felt his girth filling her. His hips pulled back slowly before thrusting forward again, the whole time he made love marks along the flesh of her neck, bruising and marking her as his own.  He nearly laughed as her nails dug into his back. Her soft whimpers caused him to gently raise her injured leg from the path of pressure and shift his thrusts slightly, each one grinding into her. He kept her leg raised and out of the way, and her whimpers became cries of ecstasy, the tip of his cock hitting the deepest part of her channel.

He brought his hand to her breast, cradling it, cupping it and teasing her nipple gently. He flicked his tongue over her nipple, before sucking and then raking his teeth over it. She felt a tingling, like an electric current run from her nipple down to her pussy.

Mira felt the beginnings of the coming climax in her core, and as her cries and moans became a bit higher-pitched, Cade’s thrusts quickened. She cried out urgently before she fell apart, screaming out Cade’s name in pure blissful pleasure as her orgasm rocked through her. Sharp, animalistic sounds left Cade's throat, grunts and growls, before Mira felt the warm jets of his seed deep within her. She writhed in abandon, moaning out deeper still as she felt pulse after pulse of his cum filling her until it was overflowing onto her thighs.

The two were lying naked on the warm, thick rug, wrapped up in one another’s post-love making embrace, completely sated.

“You've made me the happiest wolf in the world, Mira,” Cade muttered.

Mira, eyes were closed and she was teetering on the edge of sleep. She heard him, though. He was amazing. He saved her life, in every way that she needed saving, and now he tells her how happy she’s made him?

Mira looked up at him in awe. She could feel the sting of joyful tears at the back of her eyes. “Cade,” she mumbled drowsily, “I love you, too.”

THE END

UNINVITED STRANGER

STORY DESCRIPTION

When the power goes out in the middle of a snowstorm, Alex takes in a huge stray dog that’s been hanging outside around her apartment building. The next morning, she wakes up to find a naked man in her bed.

The thing is, he’s not just any run-of-the-mill random crazy lunatic, this one is gorgeous. He claims that she brought him in the night before as a wolf, and sometime during the night he became a man. Yep, cuckoo.

There’s something about him though, something that makes her knees weak and sets off butterflies in her stomach when she looks into his crystal blue eyes. Before Alex can allow him to leave, maybe she really ought to get to know him a little better…

CHAPTER 1

It was just Alex's luck that the power would go out on one of the coldest days of the year when the weather was threatening to drop another foot of snow on top of the layer that already coated everything. Even worse was that it was so late at night and the temperature in her apartment had already dropped, and she couldn't find any flashlight other than the one on her phone, which while bright wasn't particularly long-lasting if she wanted her phone to stay alive overnight. It was late, and normally Alex would be asleep, but she'd had a terrible day at work and at least it was a Friday and she could excuse vegging out in front of the TV until she felt better. Her plan had been going swimmingly until the familiar pop of the electricity dying had ruined it all.

And no sign of a flashlight. Alex turned off the light on her phone and checked the time instead. It was almost ten, but the 24-hour corner store would still be open. They'd likely be swamped though. Last time there had been a major storm they had been one of the few businesses still in operation thanks to the generator they had stowed in the basement, but it was either brave the crowd or spend the rest of the blackout in complete darkness. What had happened to her flashlight anyway? She could have sworn she had one...

The question still befuddled her as she bundled herself up, reluctantly changing her PJ bottoms for jeans, though she went braless and stayed in her oversized, faded t-shirt. It was way too thin for the weather, but her jacket was thick and fluffy, and the walk wasn't too long. Hopefully she hadn't wasted too much time in her pointless search and wouldn't end up being stuck in the bulk of desperate last minute oh no the power's out traffic. The whole building was dark. Alex was forced to use her phone again to keep from falling down the stairs. She heard mumbling behind closed doors but no one else had emerged from their apartments. Alone, Alex ventured out into the cold night.

The cold air slammed into her, finding all the gaps in her clothing and worming its way down to her skin. Even huddled up as she was she was still cold. At least she didn't have to go far before she discovered that she was definitely not the first person to run to the corner store in search of emergency supplies. The building had power, and Alex could easily see the crowd inside, though the people that lingered just outside the door were indication enough that Alex wouldn't have any luck getting what she needed there. Alex sighed. She'd have to try again come morning, if the power wasn't back by then. There was no sense in her wandering around in the middle of the night trying to find an open store that had power.

She turned on her heel and retraced her snowy footprints back to her apartment. She stamped her feet to keep warm waiting for a line of cars to pass, then jogged across the road and nearly tripped over a massively large dog sitting by the steps of her apartment building. Alex's first reaction was to scream, which she barely managed to contain. She loved dogs, but this one was huge. When she recovered, she crouched down to let the dog sniff her hand. A warm tongue licked her fingers. On closer inspection, it looked more like a wolf than a dog, with its massive frame and shaggy grey coat. Probably one of those mixes that were growing so popular. Its tail thumped gently, throwing up little puffs of snow, when Alex scratched behind its ears. Her other hand searched for a collar.

“Well, I'm not gonna let you sit out here in the snow all night,” she said. “You'll freeze to death. Come on, puppy, come on!” She patted her thigh once and the dog rose, shaking coat off its fur and letting its tongue loll out at her. “Not allowed to have dogs, but... well, what the manager doesn't know won't hurt him. Could use the company anyway, and who knows how long the heat will be out, I might need you to keep me warm tonight” The dog could see far easier than Alex could in the darkness. It padded ahead of her, weaving in and out of the beam her phone light provided but never moving too far. Alex squinted into the dark and fumbled with her keys, her cold hands slow to respond. The dog slipped in as soon as the door was open enough, followed by Alex herself. Nothing to do really but go to sleep she didn’t’ want to keep her phone light on too long and risk using up all the battery life.. Alex pulled out extra blankets from the hall closet and went back into her bedroom to change.

The space between her shoulder blades itched. Alex rolled them and flashed her light around the room, but the only other living thing in there with her was the dog, sitting by the foot of the bed. She finished changing, arranged the blankets on the bed as best she could and clambered into them, shivering. The sheets would warm quickly at least. A few quick pats on the bed had the dog jumping up and stretching out next to her. Her mother would have a fit if she knew, but Alex had always liked having the family dog sleep next to her. As her body warmed the fabric around her she yawned.

“Tomorrow we'll see about finding out who you belong to, okay?” she mumbled, and ruffled the thick fur on the dog's shoulders. It snuffled at her wrist then laid its heavy head down on its paws. Alex curled up to retain as much warm as she could, huddled beneath her blanket, and tried to sleep.

CHAPTER 2

When she woke up in the morning the weight stretched across the bed next to her was much heavier than any dog. Alex cracked open her eyes thinking that maybe the dog had just spread out along her body for warmth and that sleep had relaxed its weight, but what she saw was definitely not a big shaggy dog. What she saw was a big, muscular, naked man. This time she did scream. The man startled awake and all but leaped off the bed, taking one of the blankets with him.

“Who the hell are you!?” Alex demanded. “How did you get into my apartment? What did you do to the dog?” The look on his face stopped her. He had a hand covering his eyes, fingers pinching the brow of his nose. “If you hurt my dog, mister.”

“Ughhh….You’re really not gonna believe this,” the man stammered.

“Try me,” Alex said. She had pepper spray in her night stand, and she had the foresight to try to keep him preoccupied while she nonchalantly eased the nightstand drawer open. Hopefully she still had power on her phone. If not, then at least pepper spray would give her time to get out of her place and wake up one of her neighbours for help. The man dropped his hand and opened his eyes. Alex's breath caught in her throat. She had never seen eyes enchanting, so… so blue, like pure crystals. She properly looked him over, the parts that weren’t covered by the blanket he was securing around his waist. He was strong, with muscled arms and chest, and gorgeous rock hard abs. His hair was a rich brown, short and rumpled from sleep. This guy could be in a magazine ad. He certainly could have curled up to any one of at least half the single women in the city. Not many women would refuse a man who looked like this guy. What the hell was he doing here, with her?

“I'm the dog,” the man said, giving her a very toothy grin. “Surprise.” His grin revealed a mouth full of gorgeous sparkling white teeth, and Alex felt her heart lurch in her chest..

Alex rolled her eyes. The guy was cute, but clearly disturbed.

“You're kidding.”

“'fraid not. It was nice of you to bring me inside. I kind of locked myself out of my place.”

“You… I brought YOU inside?”

“I’m not kidding.” He shook his head still sporting that knee-weakening white-toothed grin.

“Wait a sec… you watched me change my clothes. You saw me naked!”

“I didn't,” the man said. “Not really. I wanted to, don’t get me wrong, but I figured I’d do the gentlemanly thing and close my eyes. Or, the gentle-dog thing… I dunno… Umm… anyways, I thank you. You’re a special kind of person. You made sure I didn't spend a night shivering naked somewhere, and I'm grateful for that. If I can just borrow the blanket, I'll go now. I mean, please… please can I borrow this blanket?” He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow as though it were really a question, as though Alex would really refuse him and make him leave stark naked.

“You said you were locked out,” Alex said, her voice stopping him as he moved toward the door. “The power's still out, you're not gonna get in unless you gave someone a spare key.”

“Oh, so now you want me to stay?” he raised his eyebrows and gave her a teasing grin. He seemed to be taking everything as a joke. “Give me some clothes and I'll do whatever you want.” Alex's face burned. She cleared her throat but the man spoke before she could work the words out of her mouth. “I'm Shane Weston.” Alex blinked at him. “You gonna tell me who you are?”

“Alex.”

“Alexxxx.... what?”

“Jordan. Alexandra Jordan.”

Shane held out a hand. “Pleased to meet you, Alexandra Jordan. Thanks for letting me stay here. Definitely warmer than outside.” He glanced down at the blanket covering his hips. “Not that I don't like being swathed in things that smell as good as you, but I think both of us would appreciate me having something to wear.”

Even though she was in her pyjamas, Alex felt oddly scrutinized as she scrambled through her drawers looking for something that might fit him. When she turned around, with an old pair of boxers and one of her night shirts in her hand, Shane was standing very close, and Alex was very aware of that blanket slung low around his hips. She couldn’t help herself, she stared at his defined musculature, at his solid chest and stomach and the peach fuzz that led from the light patch of hair across his chest down past his navel and in-between the neat V that the jut of his hips made. By the look on his face when Alex finally forced herself to stop staring, he had noticed her interest.

“Mind if I shower?” he asked.

“I don’t mind,” Alex replied distractedly. “But I don't have a flashlight. There's just a little window.”

“I've got great night vision,” Shane replied with a wink. He took the clothes from her and gave them a cursory sniff, then glanced around until he saw the door to Alex's bathroom and strode into it. Alex held her breath as he passed her, her mind whirring. Okay, so she had brought in a dog and suddenly there was a man in her apartment claiming that he was also that dog. Was she losing her mind? She had definitely locked the door behind her. There had definitely been a very large, wolf-like dog in her bed. There was fur on her bed. She certainly wasn't hallucinating. Was she?

She heard the water in the shower start flowing. Whatever had happened, she had a very hot, naked man in her bathroom who seemed content with the idea of staying, at least until the storm passed and the power was restored. Whenever that was. Alex picked up her phone from her night stand. She still had power, though not a whole lot. As long as she was careful it would last for a while. There were a handful of texts from friends and family complaining about the storm and asking if she was okay, and one weather alert that Alex dismissed in favour of checking the news and then looking out her bedroom window.

On the other side of the freezing cold glass was a sheet of white. Alex had to stare for a while before she could differentiate between the sky and ground and even longer before she could see anything other than a blanket of white. Definitely a hell of a storm. As she stood there a plough truck came trundling down the road, spewing snow to either side and leaving a trail of salt in its wake. At least they were already working on clearing the roads, not that Alex thought anyone would be going out unless they could walk to their destination. It was still early, but soon children would be out playing and enjoying the day off from school the weather had given them. They didn't care about the electricity as long as they could find something to entertain themselves. Alex remembered when she was that carefree. She was weighing the pros and cons of going out and making a snow angel with no heat to warm her up when she came back in when the water running in the bathroom shut off. Alex quickly grabbed the first proper clothes her hands touched and just managed to pull her shirt over her stomach when Shane emerged from the bathroom, dressed in Alex's clothes, and carrying the blanket over his shoulder. He tossed it on the bed.

“Well? How do I look?” he asked, spreading his arms and flashing her that same grin that made her knees weak. Her nightshirt was a couple sizes too small. It was pulled taught around his torso highlighting his physique. The boxers showed off his strong legs.

“Ridiculous,” Alex replied, and he did, but at the same time he was so amazingly handsome..

“I can take them off if you want,” Shane said. Alex's face warmed. “That's what I thought. So…” For a few seconds neither of them said anything. Alex stared at the ground and fidgeted, slightly uncomfortable but intrigued by the stranger in her house. “What now?”

“I don't know,” Alex replied. “I tried to go get a flashlight yesterday but the shop was packed. Other than that...” She shrugged. “I guess some emergency supplies. No idea how long this storm is gonna go on for, so...”

“Well, I can't really go anywhere dressed like this, but if you can help me get back home I'll give you a hand. Got a pretty decent truck. Snow shouldn't give it too much trouble. If you trust me, that is.” Alex was surprised at herself because as soon as he said it she found that she did trust him. She couldn't explain why. Maybe it was his easy smile, or the way that everything he said felt openly honest. Maybe it was the same part of her personality that had prompted her to bring him inside last night when she thought he was nothing more than a stray dog.

“I'll help,” Alex replied, “but I want you to explain to me what happened last night. Will you do that?” A brief flash of discomfort flickered across Shane's face.

“I guess I owe you that much, don't I,” he said. “Plus, I’ve already revealed my darkest secret. I want to let you know though, I was planning to be gone before you woke up, but...” He shook his head.

“Okay. Let’s get to your place.”

CHAPTER 3

“You know,” Shane said as they drove very slowly down the street behind another plough truck in Alex's car, “this is almost like a really awkward date. I went home with you, we woke up together, and now you're saving me the walk of shame home in the snow in nothing but your borrowed underwear.”

“And I didn't even get a kiss.”

“Day isn't over yet,” Shane replied. Alex bit her lip but couldn't stop herself from smiling any more than she could stop her heart from pounding. He was a stranger. But, he was a very attractive, nice, charming stranger, who seemed to think that she was attractive, too, if the way he was looking at her was any indication. There were worse ways to spend a snow day than with a hot guy, Alex mused. Her sister would be so jealous, even if Shane was some weird wolf-man thing. She didn't want to think about the dog-hot guy thing too much right now for fear of her brain exploding. The only thing she was concerned with now was helping Shane get back into his house.

“Why were you outside my building if you live so far?” Alex asked.

“I roam on full moons,” Shane replied. “That's just where I ended up when the power cut and the snow was coming. It was luck that you came. Even better luck that you're still in my company now.”

“You're kind of hard to resist,” Alex said.

“One of my many charms,” Shane replied. “Maybe you'll stick around longer to find out my other charms?”

“We'll see,” Alex said, and gave him a little smile. She could feel her cheeks getting warm. Shane reached over to set a surprisingly warm hand on her thigh. He gave it a little squeeze, then rubbed his thumb against the outside. Even with the heat in the car on full blast, it still felt nice, like when Alex used to sit next to the radiator in her grandma's house when she was a kid. “So, how did you get locked out?”

“Kind of forgot where I put my spare key,” Shane replied with a sheepish grin. He ran his hands through his hair. “I had it hidden under a rock near the door, but I had to move it after someone broke in, and... well, I don't really want to be wandering around my house stark naked in the middle of winter trying to find it. I'd probably get the cops called on me. My neighbours are prudes.”

“So you're making me do it.”

“No, I'll help. Or try to. I might be able to get into a window, but, again, half-naked man in women’s underwear trying to get into a locked house in broad daylight? Cops.” Alex snorted at the image but she had seen enough of Shane to know that she definitely wouldn't call the cops on him for being naked. Definitely not. “Turn left, it's the last house on your side.” The roads out here hadn't been ploughed quite as well and Alex's car skidded frighteningly as she turned the corner. Shane gave her leg another squeeze.

“Don't worry,” he said. “My truck can handle this, easy. Just go slow.” Alex felt better with Shane's hand on her thigh. They reached his house without further incident. Alex pulled up next to what looked like the curb, not that she could be really sure. Shane lived in a nice sized house in what was considered one of the nicer upper-middle class neighborhoods in the city. She winced when he got out of the car and put his bare feet in the snow, but he didn't seem to notice. Reluctant as she was to leave the warmth of her car, she followed him, putting her keys in her coat pocket.

“So where do you think you put it?” Alex asked.

“Honestly? Under another rock somewhere near the front steps. There's just a lot of them, and the snow makes it harder, and-” he trailed off into mumbles, already digging up snow. Alex heaved a heavy sigh and joined him.

Her fingers were frozen stiff by the time they finally found the pesky little thing, hidden under a round rock that both of them almost missed under the snow. Even Shane was starting to show signs of being cold. She stood close to him, soaking up what warmth she could as he opened the door and tried the lights. Too much to hope the power would be back, not with the snow still coming down as hard as it was. Alex's hair was wet with it and it had soaked through the bottoms of her jeans and into her socks. It wasn't all that much warmer inside, but at least it was sheltered from the elements. Alex stood in the foyer stomping snow off her shoes while Shane presumably went to get clothes. She shut the door to keep out the worst of the cold and explored through the simple but tastefully furnished rooms around her. It was strange and quiet in the grey darkness the sunlight cast. Bored, she ventured towards the noise coming from deeper inside the house and passed the door to Shane's bedroom in time to catch a tantalizing glimpse of his bare back before he pulled a sweater on.

He turned around and caught her, “Better?”

Alex nodded quickly.

“Well now, what all do you need from the store?”

Alex shrugged. “A light. Batteries. Food. Wasn't exactly prepared for a blizzard.”

“You know,” Shane started, and rubbed the back of his neck almost nervously, “I have all of that here. You can hang until the power comes back. At least then you won't be alone. And if you're still around tonight...” He let the implication linger. If Alex stayed he could prove what he had told her before.

“What are we gonna do if I stay?” Alex asked.

“Enjoy each other's company?” Shane asked with a grin. “I'd like to get to know you, honestly. You know a very personal piece of information about me. I think I'm owed something in return, don't you?”

Shane had a gas stove and a kerosene space heater and nothing could have made Alex happier at that moment than those two things. Well... she glanced over at Shane who was filling the pot he had used to cook with water. Almost nothing. They actually had quite a lot in common from what Alex had gathered over their conversation. It had been brief, but not even close to how awkward Alex assumed it would be. Shane was..., well he was her dream guy, really. Attractive, thoughtful, kind, considerate. They both had the same taste in movies, too, something Alex hadn't shared with her most recent ex. When Shane sat down next to her with a blanket Alex didn't think twice about curling up into him. Hey, it’s a matter of survival. She told herself.

“Are you always this warm?” she asked. She hardly needed the space heater with him next to her.

“One of the perks of my condition,” Shane said. “Useful in the winter, not so much in the summer.”

“Definitely useful now. I hope you don't mind.” Shane responded by slipping an arm around Alex's shoulders and cuddling her close. She was sitting next to him on the sofa sharing a thick woollen blanket that was draped around their shoulders. Alex pillowed her head against his broad chest. Beneath her ear his heart beat strong, if a bit quickly. Could he be nervous? Alex was. It had been a long time since she'd been close to a guy like this. What would happen if she kissed him? There was a better way to get warm than to huddle under a blanket.

“Does anyone else know?” Alex heard herself ask. Shane's body tensed for a split second. Alex regretting the words until he sighed softly and shrugged, his chin brushing the top of her head.

“No, just you. It was sort of a learn as I go experience. A lot of trial and error and some moments I'm not at all proud of. I'm okay now, though. I can control my urges and most of the time I just stay in the house.”

“Bad day for your roaming, then,” Alex said.

“I don't know about that,” Shane smiled. “I met you, didn't I?” Alex's cheeks and ears warmed. She pressed closer to Shane's heat. For a time there was a comfortable silence. Alex closed her eyes and was half asleep when Shane suddenly said, “The snow's stopped. Hopefully they'll have the power back soon. They've been working all day, or at least they were supposed to be.”

“So eager to get rid of me?”

“Not at all. I'd keep you here all night if I could. I thought you'd want to get back to your own place. I did sort of give you a shock this morning, didn't I?”

“Just a bit,” Alex teased. “But... well this didn't turn out bad, did it? You're a pretty cool guy.” Shane chuckled and rubbed her shoulder. Alex couldn't suppress her yawn. Easily, too easily, Shane shifted her weight around so he could swing his legs up and stretch out across the couch, letting Alex rest on top of him. Alex tucked her head beneath his chin.

“You know,” Shane said softly, “I've never really felt this comfortable with someone before. I was regretting my decision to leave my house, but now I think it might have been one of the best things I've ever done.” He gently kissed the top of her head.

A balloon of warmth filled in Alex's chest. She believed in instant attraction between two people, but this was definitely something more than physical, regardless of how attractive Shane was. It wasn't a feeling she could really explain, but she was somehow attuned to him. In her gut she knew that if it had been anyone else she found naked in her bed after thinking it was a dog she had brought upstairs she wouldn't have hesitated about giving them a burst of pepper spray in the eyes and calling the police. Yet here she was, in a very intimate position with a man she'd only known for a day, feeling like she could do or say whatever she wanted and she hadn't even consumed any alcohol.

“Maybe when things start functioning again, we could go out for coffee?” Alex suggested, surprised by how thick her voice had gotten and how heavy her eyes felt.

“Maybe you should wait until after tonight to ask that question,” Shane replied. His fingers stroked along her spine, erasing the argument that was formulating in Alex's mind and sped her journey into a deep, peaceful, dreamless sleep.

CHAPTER 4

Alex slept for long enough that when she awoke it was dark outside. There was a light spilling into the room from behind where she lay, in the direction of the kitchen. Alex blinked and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She sat up to look over the back of the sofa and spotted Shane finishing up the dishes from earlier and watching something on the small, wall-mounted TV at the end of the cabinet row. From the monotonous mumbling it sounded like the news. Quiet as a mouse, Alex roused herself from her makeshift bed and padded over to him, slipping her arms around his waist without a thought and pressing her cheek between his shoulders with a little nuzzle. He must have heard her because his only reaction was to crane his torso around so he could press a kiss to the top of her head that was so tiny Alex barely felt it.

“Sleep well?” he asked, washing off the last dish and putting it in the rack next to the sink to dry.

“Yeah,” Alex replied. “When did the power come back on?”

“About twenty minutes ago. You were out for a while. Did I keep you up last night?” Shane asked, turning around to give her a teasing smile. His arms went easily around her waist.

“No,” Alex said, ignoring her blush. “I was just tired, I guess. You make a very good pillow.”

“Well, I'm glad to hear that.”

Alex tilted her head back, staring up into Shane's handsome face, her gaze holding his briefly before dropping to his grinning mouth. He clasped his hands together at the small of her back, keeping her pressed tightly against his body. Alex's heart went up into her throat then almost deafened her with its beating. She was so close she could see the ring of black around Shane's irises, and streaks of bronze where the bright kitchen lights shown down on his hair.

“I need to show you that proof you wanted,” Shane said before Alex could speak what was on her mind. “Are you sure about this?”

“Are you in control?” Alex shot back.

“Completely,” Shane said without hesitating. “Normally I go to the basement but for your sake I'll stay up here. It's not a pleasant thing to watch, so... just stay here, okay?” Alex nodded slowly. Shane slipped away from their embrace, leaving Alex alone with a jittery stomach and racing heart. The minutes ticked by slowly, but it couldn't have been more than five before she heard a creak from down the hall where Shane had walked and the shaggy wolf-dog from the previous night trotted over to her, wagging his tail and rubbing affectionately against her legs.

“Shane?” Alex asked, silently cursing how her voice shook. The dog sat at her feet and nodded his head in an eerily human like manner before licking Alex's fingers and butting her hand. “So you were telling the truth. Holy shit.” Her last shred of doubt evaporated when she looked into the dog's eyes and saw they were the same crystal blue as the man that she had found in her bed. “Can you change back?” she asked. Dog-Shane licked her fingers and turned away. When he was out of sight Alex let out a shaky breath and leaned against the sink for support. She definitely wasn't hallucinating. But what did it matter if Shane turned into a dog, or a wolf, or whatever however often he did? It was the man in him that mattered and that was clearly the part of him that was in control. A man that Alex felt a deep connection to. She knew he was important to her. It was the same feeling she had when she and her best friend had first met, except her best friend hadn’t made her knees weak and given her butterflies in her stomach.

Shane came out a moment later, looking slightly uncomfortable and moving gingerly, wearing only his jeans. He stood a couple feet away from Alex and couldn't quite meet her eyes. Alex held out her hand and waited until he looked up and approached her before she moved at all, stepping back into his arms.

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” Alex asked. “Like, seeing someone and just... knowing. Knowing something. Maybe not right then that's it's love but, just having that feeling in your gut that you have to talk to them? You have to get to know them?”

“Do you?” Shane asked.

“I do now,” Alex replied, and leaned up on her toes. Shane met her halfway, cradling her face in his hands. Alex felt a spark across her lips, and the gentle brush of Shane's fingers on her cheeks. Even though he hadn't initiated the kiss, he waited until Alex pressed herself more firmly against his body before he relaxed and looped an arm around her waist, deepening the kiss with a simple brush of his tongue. He pulled away first, but not before Alex was breathless and very much wondering what would happen if they kept going.

“So,” Shane said, “still sure about that coffee?”

“More sure than I've ever been about anything in my life,” Alex replied and pulled him back into her embrace.

THE END

MY VALENTINE WOLF

STORY DESCRIPTION

When Kelsey Owens finds herself alone at a bar on Valentine’s Day – stood up by her blind date, she stomps out of the place in a huff. But outside in the darkened ally, she sees something she shouldn’t and lands herself in deep hot water.

Lucky for her, a handsome, stoic stranger appoints himself as her guardian.

But is she lucky?

Is she safe in the hands of her self-appointed, oh-so-sexy protector?

When he is forced to make a revelation while the two are on the run, she isn’t so sure.

The thing is, she’s never been so unbelievably attracted to any man before… EVER.

…And what is lycanthropy anyway?

CHAPTER 1

I sucked the last of my fruity, pink drink through the straw, making a hideous slurping noise that drew attention from several others at the bar. I gave the fake blond closest to me the stink eye, and reached into my purse for some money. Tossing the crumpled up bills onto the shiny bar top, I sighed. I knew that Mitch, or Mike, or whatever his name was, had stood me up, but I kept glancing at the door in vain, hoping that I wasn’t the pathetic loser who got stood up on Valentine’s Day. And yet, that’s exactly what I was as I left the bar.

“You, Kelsey Owens, need to woman up. You don’t need a man to have fun on Valentine’s Day,” I whispered to myself, even though I knew it was a lie.

The sharp cold of the February night in the Black Hills of South Dakota stole the breath from my lungs momentarily, at least until I got my scarf wound around my neck and mouth. I looked up and down the main street of Rapid City, trying to decide what my next move should be. There were plenty of places to go, and I wasn’t ready to go home just yet.

I had only had one drink while I’d waited, but I suddenly felt woozy. Pausing beside the edge of the building, I pressed my hand against the cool brick as I waited for the feeling to pass. I leaned forward, concentrating only on the swirling of my stomach. Several people left the bar, and continued on down the street, couples arm in arm, delighting in the romantic ambiance of the day, or night, or whatever. I couldn’t clear my head long enough to think straight. What had been in that drink?

There was a sharp curse followed by sounds of a scuffle in the alley next to the bar. The sound set my heart racing. I couldn’t have been thinking clearly because instead of getting as far away from the fight as I could, I straightened up, and wandered closer.

Two large men, broad shouldered, barrel chested, and hairy with wild hair and full, bushy beards had cornered another man, smaller, but still with the same characteristics. I must have been drunker than I’d realized because it sounded to me like they were growling at the other man. The self-preservation part of my brain screamed at me to run, to get away from there as fast as I could, to forget that I had ever seen anything. But my feet stayed rooted to the ground, and I continued to stare at the fight in progress.

One of the men advanced, flexing his hands as if he had claws attached to the ends of each finger instead of fingernails. He made a slashing motion in the air, and the other man howled in pain. I let out a shriek before clapping a hand over my mouth, as if I could hold the sound inside. The two men turned, momentarily distracted from the original object of their rage. When they turned their eyes on me, I could see them flash yellow under the streetlight. I began to back away as they moved toward me. Surely I could make it back to the bar before they caught up with me.

But for some reason I couldn’t move fast enough, I felt like I was slogging through wet cement. As I frantically scrambled to get out of the alley, to get onto the light of the main street, near buildings, near people, near safety, I could practically feel the heat of the first man’s breath on the back of my neck. Dog breath. The change in thinking jolted me out of slow motion movement, and I felt a burst of energy.

Still, I knew that it wasn’t going to be enough. My heart sank, and horror spread through me as I realized that I was going to be beaten or worse. There was nothing I could do. Just when I thought that I was going to give up, strong arms grabbed me from the side, and rolled me out of the way. My right shoulder hit the pavement hard, but the rest of my body was cushioned against the body of the unknown man, my savior.

“Stay here, and keep down,” the man said, in a low, gravelly voice. There was just a moment when their eyes met before he ran back into the fray, but I felt a jolt of electricity shoot through my veins. I could see something in the depths of his eyes that I recognized, something that was mirrored back at me from my own heart.

I rolled over onto my stomach, my shoulder throbbing as I moved, but I lifted my head enough to see the man who had saved me charge the two men who had threatened to attack me. I could hardly believe my eyes as I watched him flip, twist, and kick the two men into submission. The two turned and ran up the block with their proverbial tails tucked between their legs.

When he seemed satisfied that the men weren’t coming back, he walked back over to me.  He reached down, and helped me to my feet. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I…I’m, um, my shoulder hurts,” I stammered.

“We need to get out of here,” he said.

I stared at him in disbelief. “I don’t know you,” I said even though there were so many other things that I wanted to say. I wanted to tell him that I would be fine, that I’d just go back to the bar, that I’d go home, but I had a feeling, deep in the pit of my stomach that answer wasn’t going to be good enough.

“My name is Chase Volka. You saw something that you shouldn’t have seen, and there are plenty of people that will want to make sure that you don’t stay alive to tell anyone about it. Now, please, come with me. I can get you to safety, and then we can come up with a plan to keep you safe,” he said.

From the look on the man’s handsome face, I decided to follow my instincts, and trust him. “I’m Kelsey. Okay, let’s go.”

CHAPTER 2

When I was settled in the front seat of a large, black SUV with tinted windows, I began to wonder if I had made the right decision. Chase had his eyes on the road, and one hand tapped the wheel while he rubbed his beard with the other hand. Even though I had just met him, I trusted him, whether or not that was a stupid idea. I felt like I had known him for years. That didn’t stop me from wondering where we were headed or what was going on.

Chase steered the SUV south out of Rapid City, glancing in the rear view mirror every few seconds. Suddenly he hunched forward over the steering wheel, and made a sharp right down a side street that barely had any lights. Being thrust into sudden shadow made my stomach twist. I swallowed hard as I gave him a sideways glance. Most of his face was hidden in darkness as he killed the headlights and turned off the car. He kept his eyes trained on the mirror. I had to fight every urge within me not to turn around to look.

Finally, I couldn’t take the tension any longer. “What’s going on?” I asked in a whisper.

“Shhh,” Chase hissed.

Fear lanced through my belly, and I hunched myself down in the seat as far as I could go, holding my breath until Chase leaned back in his seat. Slowly he restarted the car, did a U-turn, and pulled the car back out of the side street. Only once we were back on the busy main road did he flip on his lights.

My stomach was still churning with anxiety as he headed out of town. Once we were on the curving roads, flying past tourist attractions closed for the season, did I dare to ask, “What is going on?”

Chase ran a hand along his scruffy beard again, and sighed. “I had to make sure we weren’t being followed. Those two men that you encountered will want to find me…and you as well. You saw far more than you should have seen. That means you are in danger. Probably more danger than I’m in.”

I shifted uneasily in the passenger seat. Every instinct inside of me told me that he was telling me the truth, and that made me more nervous than if I’d realized that he was lying to me. Looking at him sitting beside me now, I could see the weariness lining his face. There were so many questions running through my mind, I felt at a loss as to what to ask first.

Thankfully, Chase seemed to relax the further out of Rapid City we drove. A few minutes later he veered off the main road onto an exit that as far as I knew led to an abandoned town. He killed the lights a moment later.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

Chase looked over at me, appraisingly. He seemed to be trying to decide whether or not he wanted to tell me something. Finally, he sighed. “The less you know about everything the better. They might go easier on you if they think you’re just a pawn. Besides, that way if they catch us and question you, then at least you won’t have to lie.”

“Lie about what?” I asked, unable to keep the exasperation out of my voice. “I don’t care what kind of weird connection we seem to have or the fact that I’m indebted to you for saving me, I deserve to know what’s going on. Besides I really don’t have any idea what I saw back there in Rapid City. There were just two guys ready to attack some other guy, and you kicked their butts.”

Chase eased the SUV off the road into a bank of deep shadows. Ahead I could see the lights from the only occupied building in the town, a saloon that drew on people’s need to get away from the darkness of winter. In the dim light that extended beyond the saloon’s boundaries, I could tell that Chase was watching the establishment.

“Who are you looking for?” I asked.

“How’d you…? Never mind. No one. It doesn’t matter. They aren’t here,” he said as he put the car back into gear. As he sped through the center of what used to be a tourist attraction ghost town, I thought I saw someone emerge from the shadows, and run toward the SUV.

Chase must have seen it too because he said, “We’ve got to get you somewhere safe, preferably before the moon rises too high.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?” I asked, confusion befuddling my brain. “What does the moon have to do with anything?”

Chase sighed. He seemed to do that a lot, and I got the feeling that he was telling me far more than he wanted to. Maybe that was part of our connection. Maybe I had some kind of strange power over him that got him to spill his deepest, darkest secrets to me. I was so lost in my self-congratulatory thoughts that I didn’t realize how long Chase had been silent.

Finally, he said, “I suppose you do need to know this part in case things start to get weird.” He paused. “I suffer from lycanthropy.”

“Lycanthropy?” I repeated. “What do you mean?”

Chase glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “It means,” he said slowly, “that I am a werewolf.”

CHAPTER 3

I gaped at him, but Chase remained calm. He turned toward the town of Keystone, the road deserted save for us. I was still trying to process what he had just told me. I wanted to believe that he was just messing with me, but I could tell from the look on his face that he wasn’t. So I swallowed hard. I had to make a decision right now. I could either demand that he stop the car in Keystone, even on the off season one of the hotels would be open. I could rent a room for the night, get a cab back to Rapid City in the morning. Or I could choose to trust Chase, and go wherever he was taking me.

I decided to trust him. I had the strangest sensation that my heart was beating in rhythm with Chase’s even all the way across the car. It was almost as if…we were meant to be together. I shook my head, and squinted out the window at the darkened store fronts as we sped through the center of town. The off season was eerie in so many ways. Many businesses shuttered for the winter, and generally only locals frequented those places that were still open.

My brain felt muddled, and I was beyond tired. Leaning back in my seat, I glanced over at Chase. He was glancing in the rearview mirror again. The way his eyes flicked from the mirror to the road ahead of us made my stomach knot.

“You need to tell me what’s going on,” I said softly. “I will go wherever you need me to go. I trust you, but I need to know what it is that we’re running from.”

Chase glanced in the rearview mirror again, and shook his head as he sighed. “Tonight is the full moon. When it reaches the fullest height in the night sky there are…things that a lycanthrope can do.”

“Okay,” I said slowly. “So what does that have to do with those guys back in Rapid City?”

The car curved through the mountains. Through the shadows and the dense stands of pine I could just make out the faces of Mount Rushmore. I waited for Chase to respond. A car came around a curve a little too fast, and Chase tensed, leaning forward over the steering wheel and staring at the car until it was out of sight. He stayed quiet for a while longer, and I knew that he was waiting to make sure we were still alone.

“Those men were lycanthropes too,” Chase said. “Tonight every lycanthrope wants the same thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“To get to the highest point in the area to get the maximum impact of the full moon,” he said.

I let out an irritated huff of air. “I don’t understand. You’re talking in circles. I get that you are a…lycanthrope and you get something from the full moon tonight, but that doesn’t explain what that is or why those men were attacking that guy or chasing us.” I slumped back in my seat, and crossed my arms over my chest.

Chase sighed. “There is a chance that on a night like tonight that a lycanthrope can reverse the effects of the disease, put it into remission, if you will. But you have to be at a great height to be as close as possible to the moon’s rays. Even when you do that, it’s not a guarantee. Those other men? They want the same thing I do. There will be territorial fights tonight.”

“Is that what was happening back in that alley?” I asked, half turning in my seat so that I could watch him. We had turned onto the road that led up to Custer State Park. I had a feeling I knew where we were headed.

“Maybe,” Chase acknowledged. “There could have been other things at play there. But my money would be on a territorial dispute, yeah.”

The silence that filled the car was thick. Finally, I asked, “So, where is your territory?”

Chase glanced at me, and I could see in his eyes what I already knew. Somehow I had found the Alpha. “Harney Peak?” My voice came out as a squeak as my suspicions were confirmed. He nodded, and shifted uncomfortably beside me.

The entrance to the park was dark, and there were no park rangers on duty. “One perk to the off season, huh?”

“Hmm?” Chase was clearly distracted as we eased around Sylvan Lake, the placid water frozen and glimmering under the moonlight. We were the only car in the parking lot when we arrived at the trailhead.

“So what happens now?” I asked.

“We need to get to the top before the moon rises completely,” he said.

I gaped at him, wondering if I should just go. Surely there would be someone at the cabins or at least up at the hotel that would be able to help me find a way home. The jog around the lake would only take me five minutes. But as soon as the thought entered my head, I shook it away. Leaving Chase wasn’t an answer. My heart ached at the mere idea of not being near him. Truly it was the strangest sensation I had ever experienced. No. I would be staying with him until the bitter end.

“Can I ask you something?”

Chase looked over at me as he turned off the ignition. He pulled the key out, and twirled it between his fingers, staring at it absently. “Sure,” he said. “Anything.”

“How did you become a were…a lycanthrope? Did you get bitten by another werewolf or what?” I asked in a rush of breath.

He burst out laughing. “That would be vampires that transmit their virus from one person to another. No. I was born this way. And just in case you are curious, I don’t turn into a hairy dog man. Just a wolf.”

“So what do you want to get from the moon tonight?” I asked softly.

Chase turned and fixed me with a searching, searing stare. Finally, he said, “I’d like to find a way to be normal so that I could be with you. You’re my intended mate, Kelsey. I knew it the first moment I saw you. I inhaled your scent and I knew. It’s …. it’s …like that for us.”

My heart slammed against my ribcage, and I inhaled sharply. In that instant, I knew that he felt the same way I did. “Let’s go,” I said, pushing my car door open. I had no idea what I was getting myself into, but I knew I needed to do it for Chase.

CHAPTER 4

We walked through the dark pines in silence. Crusty snow crunched beneath our feet, and I sorely wished that I hadn’t worn dress shoes. At least they were flats, but still, the soles had no traction, and every time I slipped, I had to reach out and grab on to Chase’s arm. He would steady me, and hold on for just a second longer than he needed to. Warmth would spread through me until the winter chill seeped into my bones again.

“This is taking forever,” I said with a sigh. “You should go up without me. There’s no way that we’ll make it on time.”

Chase turned from several yards ahead of me, and through the moonlight I saw his eyes glint in the moonlight. “Wait here for a sec, okay?” he said as he jogged off the path toward a clump of large granite boulders.

My breath hitched in my throat as I watched Chase disappear behind the rocks.  I wrapped my arms around myself, and glanced off into the darkness. Despite the fact that the moon kept getting hidden behind clouds, I swore that I saw eyes shimmering in the depths of the darkness. I shivered as I thought back to the men from the alley in Rapid City. I turned back toward the rocks where Chase had disappeared, when I caught sight of a large shape moving out of the shadows.

“Chase!” I screamed as an animal, the largest wolf I had ever seen, appeared on the path before me.

“It’s me,” Chase said.

I screamed again as I stared at the talking wolf in front of me, trying to register what was happening.  Chase as the wolf circled me, butting me affectionately in the arm with his head. I laughed, despite the weirdness that I was experiencing.

“Get on my back,” he said. “We’ll make it to the summit much faster this way.”

This time I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed the coarse hair around Chase’s wolf neck, and swung myself up onto his back like he was a horse.  Using my knees, I clung to him as he took off up the path. The pines whipped by as we sped through the forest. In the distance I could hear other animals, coyotes calling to each other, mountain lions screaming as they hunted prey, and deer crashing through the underbrush as we approached.

Chase ran with grace and speed unnatural for both human and animal. My mind was racing right along with us, and I tried to reason out everything that was happening. A man that I had just met had captured my heart as we ran away from others of his kind right before he had turned into a wolf. And then there was the fact that he had been born that way.

When we reached the top of the mountain, Chase slowed. At the base of the steps that led up to the fire tower, he said, “I need you to listen very carefully to me. I smell something that I need to check out. I need you to climb up the stairs to the fire tower, and stay out on the top. Do not go anywhere else. Please, promise me Kelsey.”

I nodded, unable to find my voice for a long time. Then I said, “Yes, I promise. Chase?”

“Yes?”

“Be careful.”

Chase as the wolf looked up at me, and I could see the man I had instantly fallen in love with deep in his eyes. He nodded his great furry head, and even though I knew that everything happening to me seemed ridiculous, it also felt completely natural.

As Chase loped off into the brush, I took a deep breath, telling myself that all I had to do was climb a set of stairs. That was it. I began to climb up the stone steps as they curved up toward the looming stone fire tower. My shoes slipped on a patch of ice, and I crashed down to the hard edge of the stair directly above me.  I yelped in pain as my knee began to throb.

I waited for the pain to subside, and then climbed back to my feet, moving more slowly again. By the time I reached the top of the fire tower, I was huffing a little, my lungs aching in in the cold air at such a high altitude. Chase still hadn’t returned, and I was starting to get scared. There seemed to be noises coming from every direction, unnatural noises that made my skin crawl.

A noise from the stairwell that led down to the interior of the fire tower made me jump. I pressed my back against the wall, and tried to make myself blend in to my surroundings. The sound of heavy breathing reached me just about at the same time as the smell of wet dog. I knew that one of the men from Rapid City was there. I didn’t know how I knew that, but I did. I squeezed my eyes shut, and hoped that Chase would burst up the staircase now.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” The voice was heavy, dripping with saliva. I could hear the spit sloshing around in his mouth. When I cracked open my eyes, I wanted to scream, but I didn’t. The large black wolf loomed above me, spittle hanging off of his jowls. Before I knew what had happened, the wolf had clamped his jaw around my wrist and dragged me down the stairs into the bowels of the fire tower.

CHAPTER 5

My wrist throbbed. I could still feel the place where the wolf’s teeth had sunk into my skin. At least he had gone back out the door to patrol, though I suspected he was waiting for Chase. All I could do was wait. I hated waiting. The inside of the fire tower smelled like urine and something more putrid. I shuddered to think what I was sitting on, and was disgusted to think of the way tourists used this place as a bathroom.

I knew that the only choice was to try to get away, to get to Chase, even though the wolf was far bigger and faster than I was. The only two exits didn’t offer me many choices. The one closest to me led out to a small plateau with absolutely no hope of escape. If I went back up the steps to the top of the fire tower, then I might be able to make a run down the steps to find Chase. Though, I knew that with my flats made it hard to run on the ice, and getting to Chase would be a long shot. Still, I felt like I needed to try.

Climbing to my feet, I winced at the ache of all of my muscles. My wrist throbbed from where the wolf had bitten me. I limped over to the stairs, but just as I was about to go up I heard footsteps. Making a split second decision, I hurried out to the small plateau outside the fire tower. During the summer the area had grass and a small pool of water from the frequent afternoon showers, but in the middle of February, the area was nothing but a sheet of ice and snow. There was nowhere for me to hide, but I went out anyway.

A moment later the wolf followed me, but he didn’t even pause near the spot where I had flattened myself against the wall. When I saw the flash of Chase’s coat as he streaked past me, I felt weak with relief.

Chase leaped at the wolf, and sent the creature sprawling. The other wolf regained its’ footing quickly, though, and crashed into Chase, nipping at his ear. Chase yelped in pain, but charged the other wolf again. He hit him hard, knocking the other animal back. Chase hit him again. Both he and the other wolf let out a spine chilling howl. All the hair on my neck stood straight up.

The wolf fell into the dark abyss over the edge of the cliff. Chase in his wolf form was still crouched down on the rocks, his sides heaving from the exertion of the fight. I blinked, and suddenly he was back in his human form. I ran to him, and threw my arms around his still shuddering form. He turned in my embrace, and pulled me close against his chest.

I settled into his embrace, and we sat in silence for a long time, everything else seemed to fall away when I was in Chase’s arms. His body was still radiating heat from his wolf form so even the snow around us didn’t penetrate our bubble.

Tipping my head back, I looked up at the moon, which was full and bright, glowing above the clouds that still littered the night sky. From our height we could see the vast starscape that stretched in every direction. My Valentine’s Day had started out rough, and was ending with the craziest, most perfect love I could imagine.

“So what happens now?” I asked Chase, holding my breath while I waited for Chase to answer.

“Honestly? I don’t know how this works,” he admitted.

“You don’t know? But you said it was important for us to get up here so that you could attain the moon’s maximum effects.” I turned in his arms so that I could look up at his face.

Chase flushed, and gave me a sheepish smile. “I know the power of the moon,” he said. “I grew up with my mother and father telling me about it. There are so many tales that any number of things could happen tonight. I know that somehow a person suffering from lycanthropy can use the moon’s rays to be healed.”

“Do you want to be healed?” I asked quietly.

“Me being a lycanthrope will put a serious damper on our relationship,” he said.

“It’s amazing how fast it happened,” I said before I could stop myself. A cardinal rule of my dating life had always been to play my cards close, not give out too much information at any time.

Chase shrugged. “That’s how it happens for lycanthropes.”

“I feel weird,” I said suddenly as my bitten wrist began to throb. We both looked down at it as I held it out in front of me. The bite marks had begun to glow silver. “Everything is tingling.”

Chase’s eyes widened. “Oh no,” he said in a whisper.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, alarmed.

“I’ve heard of this happening, but it’s so rare. I’ve never actually met anyone that it’s happened to,” Chase said.

“Chase, what’s happening to me?” The tingling had become a burning sensation, and I could feel a glow coming from deep inside of me. I wondered if Chase could see it.

“You’re becoming a werewolf,” he said so quietly I almost didn’t hear him. “The bite.”

“I thought you said that’s not how lycanthropy was transmitted,” I said, feeling stupid for saying the first thing that came in to my mind, but I had so many thoughts racing through my head that I latched on to the first one I could.

“Not normally,” Chase said. “But with the full moon…” He trailed off as I realized what it meant. A huge smile split my face.

“Well I guess this is the solution to our relationship dilemma,” I said. “Maybe you can’t be normal, but now at least I’m a lycanthrope too.”

Chase studied me for a long time. “I love you,” he said, “and I always will.”

“I love you too,” I said as I stood up, and pulled him to his feet. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on shifting in to wolf form. I suddenly just knew how to do it. Nothing hurt as I shifted, my wolf body was just a natural extension of myself. I opened my wolf eyes, and I could see things in sharper relief than I ever had before. I could even see in to the shadows.

I glanced over at Chase, who had also shifted in to his wolf form. “Come on,” I called. “I’ll race you down the mountain.”

THE END