Grayslake: More than Mated: Bears Do It Better (Kindle Worlds Novella) (3 page)

She shrugged. “There’s not much to tell you after that, other than the tigers raised me with love. They accepted me as one of their own and, from that moment on, I had a very happy life. I just couldn’t remember who I was before them or the circus. Then I found this …” Approaching slowly, she gently pulled the aged newspaper page from her back pocket. Unfolding it, she placed the paper on the granite then slid it in front of the Itan.

Stepping back to stand by her aunt, she watched as the Itan and the other man silently looked at the article. It was written in Russian, so they probably couldn’t read it, but both men stared at the picture of little Misha and her parents before looking back to her.

“Tell us what it says,” the Itan ordered.

“Basically, it says that a local Polish couple, Ludwig and Hanna Wisniewski, along with their toddler, Anna, disappeared without a trace. Nothing was missing from their home; they just disappeared. After finding me, the Vasilievs assumed the circus had something to do with me not being with my parents. After Aunt Arina found that article, they knew then that the circus must have come across us while in our shifted bear forms. Bodies were never found, so we know they must be dead.”

The Itan cocked his head to the side. “I’m very sorry to hear about your loss, but what does this have to do with my clan?”

Misha folded her hands in front of her to hide her trembling. “After finding that article, my tiger family and I did some investigating. We were able to uncover a possible relative to Ludwig and Hanna Wisniewski. Borys Anderson. From what we were able to learn, his mother was a relative who moved from Poland to the United States for an arranged mating to an American bear. We later learned that she sought asylum with her son Borys here with you. So, I am here to ask you if you have a clan member named Borys Anderson, and if you do, will you help arrange for me to meet him?”

The Itan watched Misha for a few silent moments, and then sat back on his stool and crossed his arms. “If you find Borys, what are your intentions? Are you going to leave your tiger family to come live near him or something?”

Her aunt growled at the question while Misha answered it honestly. “I do not know yet, but I doubt it. Whoever I once was, whether or not Borys is my cousin or not, the Vasilievs will always be my family. That does not mean I would not like to know any bear family I might have, too.”

The Itan nodded again before gently pushing the article over to the man sitting next to him. It made Misha anxious to see the man handling the only clue she had to whoever it was she used to be. However, she did her best to keep quiet and calm. All she could do was hope for the best, and that they would try to help her find Borys.

Ty nodded to the other bear. “This is my brother Keen. He’s the clan’s Keeper of Knowledge. Do you mind if he takes your article for a little while to check things out?” She must have given away her anxiety at the thought of being separated from the article, because the Itan held his hand up in a seemingly calming manner. “I swear we will give it back to you. I just want to let my brother check a few things out for you; find out if this Borys Anderson is related to you or not, okay?”

Grudgingly, Misha gave her acceptance with a nod. Then she felt her aunt’s hand on her shoulder, trying to help keep her calm.

The Itan waved his hand at the old woman behind him. “Until then, would you like to have some of Gigi’s honey rolls? We can also have someone take you out on the property and show you around a little bit if you like?”

Her stomach was in a million knots, and this man wanted her to eat honey rolls?

Misha had known he probably would not give her immediate answers, but a small part of her was still disappointed. Did she want to stay; sit around and helplessly wait until they gave her some sort of answer? Or did she want to go back to their hotel and ask if she could come back later? The bear inside of her wanted to stay and have a honey roll. The human in her wanted to book it out of there. She didn’t like it when others could see or sense her nervousness or vulnerabilities.

Of course Auntie Arina took the choice right out of her hands when she asked the oversized male leader, “You bears eat a lot of these honey rolls? Like that Pooh of the Winnie with his head stuck in honey jar?”

The Itan gave her aunt a disbelieving look then cautiously answered with a
yes
. Misha knew then, whatever her aunt said next would make her want to curl up and cry a little.

She was proven all too right when the woman squeezed her shoulder and shouted with glee, “This explains my little bear’s sweet tooth! We thought the honey and bear thing was a … what do you call it? A legend? No, that’s not right. A myth! Yes, we tigers thought that honey thing a myth. Now I know why my sweet Misha likes the stuff that is sugared and has an ass to worship because of it!” With that, Arina slapped her on the ass as if Misha was a stripper on the stage shaking her goods.

The bears around her tried to stifle their laughs, but she heard every single one of them as her face turned bright red in embarrassment.

Dear God, could lightning just strike her dead right now?

Chapter Four

One second Borys was enjoying the blissful peace of doing nothing but watching guys chase each other around, trying to kill each other, and the next, his phone was ringing, totally ruining the moment when the villain took a cheap shot at this movie’s hero.

Dammit! Couldn’t people just leave him the hell alone today?

If that wasn’t bad enough, it was his house phone, which meant it wasn’t a business call of any sort. He only gave his cell phone number out for that. With his luck, it was another one of those damn telemarketing robots that just kept talking no matter what you said.

Irritated beyond belief, he picked up his phone and roared into it. Perhaps not the best way to answer a phone call, but at the moment, he didn’t really give a shit. So, as his roar echoed around his house, Borys didn’t feel the least bit bad that it accidentally set off his neighbor’s house alarm … again.

When he brought the phone to his ear, he expected to hear either a robotic voice, a sobbing human, or the
beep-beep-beep
of someone hanging up. Instead, what he heard was calm breathing and silence.

A few seconds passed before the voice of his clan’s Keeper of Knowledge came over the line.

“If you’re done throwing your hissy fit, the Itan demands your presence at the clan den.”

Borys wasn’t a bear to cower before others. He was big, strong, and had a big set of balls any man or bear would be jealous of. All of that being said, even he knew not to fuck with the Itan.

Swallowing a little of his pride, he made sure his voice was calm and moderate when he replied. “Sorry about that. Please tell the Itan I’ll be there shortly.”

Keen hung up the phone on him, which spurred Borys into action. He set his house phone down, turned off his television, and grabbed the keys to his truck. He had no idea why his Itan would request his presence today since he had done what little bit of landscaping their Itana wanted done just last week. Either he had fucked his job up and his clan leader was just now getting around to tearing a chunk out of his hide for it, or something else was going on.

He really, really hoped it was something else. Borys wasn’t exactly vain, but he liked his hide the way it was. Missing a chunk of it might hurt his chance with a little lady action in the near future. Sows didn’t exactly appreciate a man who was scarred up.

Borys’s mind raced the entire drive to the den. Not that it was a long drive. That didn’t mean that, for six minutes and forty-seven seconds, Borys didn’t grind his teeth in worry that he was about to get chewed up and spit out literally. At this point, all he could hope for was the best.

He had never been in trouble with his Itan, neither the old one or his current one. Therefore, as he parked his truck in front of the den, he assured himself that everything was going to be okay. As far as he knew, he hadn’t done anything wrong, so he should leave here with his hide intact.

Getting out of his truck, he spotted Keen, the Keeper, waiting for him on the porch with a couple of his clan mates. The important thing was they didn’t look like they wanted to hang him. Perhaps he had worried for no reason at all.

Keen motioned for him to come up to the porch, and Borys took one step forward, releasing the breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding, scenting honey rolls ahead of him in the den. He fucking loved Gigi’s honey rolls.

Taking another step forward, he took a reassuring breath in … and was hit with another scent. Damn, something smelled good, and it wasn’t the scent of Gigi’s honey rolls. It was a different scent, one off to the left. It floated to him on the wind, ensnaring him with a hint of aroma he couldn’t quite place. Whatever it was, he had to have it.

All reason left him as his bear surged to the front of his mind, demanding to be let out. The beast wanted to find whatever or whoever was making that scent and make it his.

Ignoring the calls from his bear brethren on the den porch, Borys turned and started stalking toward the edge of the forest across the lawn. With every step he took, a little more reason left him and a bit more desperation took over both him and his bear. The aroma became stronger, sweeter as he found himself now running toward the trees.

In the back of his mind, he registered the fact that people were calling his name behind him, but nothing was as important as finding that scent. It was something like oatmeal cookies laced with vanilla, but better. It made his mouth water and his cock hard.

He probably should have been concerned over the fact that he might be getting hard for a cookie, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He wanted that fucking cookie, and he wanted it now! Borys could analyze the disturbing new trait later and pray that it wouldn’t hinder his grocery shopping trips.

The edge of the forest was coming up fast, the nearest trees only a few feet away. By now, the mouthwatering smell was strong, and he knew he was close to finding his proverbial cookie.

His bear roared inside his head that there were others chasing them. He needed to hurry before they could reach his cookie.

Borys assured his beast no one would have their cookie but them. They were so close … just a little farther.

Running around the massive trees, he followed that sweet scent, zeroing in on one tree in particular. Just a few more feet, and he could climb up that tree and figure out what was making that smell that was slowly driving him insane.

Leaping off the ground, Borys sunk his bear claws into the tree and started to climb up. Maneuvering his way around a few branches, panting, not with exhaustion, but the need for that damn cookie. It struck him a bit dumb when he pulled himself up onto the thickest branch and found, not his mouthwatering oatmeal cookie, but a pair of big brown eyes set in the prettiest face he had ever laid eyes on. Did the woman have his cookie?

With his brain and his bear running on nothing but the most primitive instincts, he growled, “Gimme the cookie.”

The woman’s brown eyes went wide in surprise as she shakily murmured back to him in a thick accent, “I do not have any cookies.”

Borys’s bear roared inside his head. What did she mean she didn’t have any cookies? She had to have it, and he wanted it now!

Determined to find the blessed cookie he could almost taste, he balanced himself on the branch and leaned forward until his nose hovered near her arm. The woman was leaning against the trunk of the tree, so she had nowhere to go to get away from him, which was good for Borys since he was determined to sniff out wherever it was she was hiding his cookie.

Running his nose down her arm, across her waist, and even down to where the front pockets were on her jeans, he tried to sniff out that cookie. The smell was strong all over, but it did get stronger the lower he put his nose on the woman.

Truly, what he did next, he should have been utterly ashamed of, but the woman smelled so damn good that Borys decided he would just apologize later.

He followed his sweet, vanilla and oatmeal cookie smell all the way to where it was strongest at the moment—the juncture of her open thighs. Her legs were spread to hug the branch she was sitting on, so he had unfettered access to run his nose up along the insides of her thighs and over her covered mound, where he found himself moaning at the tantalizing scent.

Either the beauty before him had a cookie hidden in a very uncomfortable place, or she
was
his cookie. Since he didn’t think the woman would take too kindly to him sticking his hand down her pants to find out if she had a cookie hidden in her underwear, he decided to do the next best thing—taste her.

Bringing his mouth up to her gaping one, he ran his tongue along her bottom lip and growled in pleasure at the flavor. The woman started to sputter in outrage, but he shut her up by sealing his lips over her own and kissing her, delving his tongue inside of her wet depths to get as much of that sweet flavor as he could on his own tongue.

Never in his life had Borys ever wanted a woman like this. He was consumed with her scent, drunk on her flavor, and burning up to taste all of her. His cookie was pretty and oh, so savory on his tongue. There could be only one reason why both his bear and his human half wanted a woman this badly: She was his fated mate.

Now he just had to stop kissing her and find out what his cookie’s name was.