Grayslake: More than Mated: Growling For Mine (Kindle Worlds Novella)

Growling for Mine

by

Alexa Riley

Dedication

For Celia Kyle … Thank you for inviting us to write in your world. When I discovered bear books I binged on yours, and now we can’t believe we are a part of the Grayslake Series.

Cover by Sara Eirew Photographer & Mayhem Creations
 

Chapter 1 *Lola*

“You window licker.” I bring the heel of my cowboy boot down on the dash of the car, making me jerk the car into the wrong lane before I right the wheel again. Thankfully, there wasn’t any oncoming traffic.

The rap music completely dies under my assault. It had a good run. I rub the spot I just kicked in appreciation that the radio even lasted this long, but I had to give it one last kick just in case. It had worked twice before.

I’ve been on the road for over twelve hours, and Grayslake is approaching as fast as the snow is starting to fall. And it seems to be getting heavier by the second. I’ve never driven in snow. Heck, I’ve never even seen it in real life before. The closest I’d ever gotten was when my tiny online graphic design company got asked to do brochures for some fancy ski lodge out in Colorado. I’d spent three days looking at stock photos of snow.

I debate pulling over and just maybe touching it for a second. I bite my lip, mulling it over in my head. Picking up my phone, I see I’m twenty minutes outside of Grayslake. Maybe it isn’t such a good idea. I need to get to town before the snow gets too thick. My bald tires can’t take much more of this. I’m not sure any part of this car can take any more of this. The thing could fall apart at any moment.

At the thought, I hear a loud click come from the engine.

“Edith. Don’t you do it.” I glare at the check engine light. “We can’t get stranded out here! Those shifters could be here.” I glance out both side view mirrors, then my rear view. “We need to investigate before we just stumble across one in the wild. We get ourselves into trouble when we don’t plan first.”

I try to reason with Edith, but she has a mind of her own and her time is clearly coming to an end. Maybe getting this wild hair about finding out if these shifter whispers were true wasn’t such a great idea, but I needed out of town, and for some reason this was the only thing that was driving me. Almost like there was an invisible string pulling me.

I knew the moment I saw that eviction tag on the door of the apartment I share with my mom that she hadn’t paid the rent and mostly likely spent my share I’d given her. I didn’t feel like sticking around and picking up the pieces this time. I packed a bag, grabbed my laptop, and took off after leaving a note of my own taped to the door. Told myself I’d go as far as Edith would take me, and I headed in the direction of Grayslake.

I still haven’t even heard a peep from my mom. I’m not sure why I thought she’d be calling my phone begging me to come back. Oh, yeah, money, that’s why. Still, over twelve hours after I’d left and not a single call or a lousy text. Who am I kidding? She probably hasn’t made it home yet. She can up and disappear for days on end.

Shit, is that what I’m doing? I cringe at the thought of being like my mom. My mom likes to be different. New people in and out of her life all the time. She never keeps a boyfriend more than a month. She thinks of herself as a hippy. I had another word in mind, but I kept that to myself. She’s still my mom after all.

Flipping on the wipers, I wince at how it’s only making it worse. The snowy ice smearing makes it almost impossible to see out of the window. I can’t see for crud now. I check my phone again and it still says I’m twenty minutes away. Grr. How is that even possible? I’m stuck in the Bermuda Triangle of shifter land. Oh, my God. It’s like the one
Friday the Thirteenth
movie and I’m just going in circles, but instead of having a beat-up van, I have an old Volvo.

I glance at the speedometer and see I’m only going fifteen miles an hour. I push down on the gas to pick up speed, but my tires don’t agree. I’m instantly sliding, the car spinning out in circles.

“Edith, get it together!” I yell at the car, but she once again doesn’t listen to me.

We hit a metal rail that gives way too easily, sending us over the snow-covered hill. We slide down, and the journey feels like it takes seconds and hours all at once, until the car comes to an abrupt halt. My head hits the steering wheel, making pain shoot through my body all the way to my toes.

Cold air enters the car, and the chill cuts right through me. I can’t seem to open my eyes. I feel shattered glass all around me. The car groans, and I pray that we aren’t going to slide any more. I don’t think I can take another hit like that. I inhale deeply, trying to pull air into my lungs, but the cold just makes it burn.

I’ll freeze to death out here. The tracks, no one will see them with how fast the snow is coming down. They’ll be covered in minutes, most likely. Now the little bear-covered underwear I put on don’t seem so cute anymore. I thought they would be lucky to help me on my shifter quest. Now, when they find my body, they’re going to see I’m a twenty-year-old woman wearing little bear underwear.

I open my mouth and let out a scream, hoping someone will hear me, but all I hear in return is the sound of the wind picking up. The cold settles into my bones as everything goes black.

Chapter 2 *Bleu*

The snow is really starting to come down, and I know it won’t be long until several feet coats everything. They said it would be the worst snowfall we’ve seen in over twenty years. I decide to bring in an extra load of wood from the shed. Just as I reach the porch, I hear a loud screech in the distance, followed by the sound of a crash. Dropping the wood, I leap from the porch, shifting before my paws hit the snow.

This is a dangerous time of year to be on the roads, so I hope whoever this is is okay. I run through the forest, trying to make it to where I heard the noise. I’m not close to the road, but my hearing is good, even in human form. When I’m almost there, I hear the sound of a female screaming.

The sound sends panic down my spine, and I run even faster.

When I come to the bottom of a hill, I see an old, beat-up car flipped on its side. I bolt towards the car. Climbing on top, I look in and see a woman passed out inside. The window is busted open and she’s already dusted with the falling snow. I rip the door open and then shift back to human form in case she wakes up and I scare her. Reaching down, I pop her seat belt, pulling her from the car. I look back inside and see only a small bag. I grab it and throw it over my shoulder before climbing off the car, holding her gently.

Mine.
The word hits me hard.

Looking down at her, I see she’s tiny and shivering. She’s not dressed for cold weather, so I hold her to me and make my way back to the cabin as quick as I can in human form. The way the storm is coming down, she won’t be getting her car off the bottom of that hill for quite some time, and if she doesn’t get warm soon she’s going to freeze to death. Her delicate-looking skin won’t be able to take it.

Pulling her closer to me, I hurry through the trees and snow, getting back to my cabin in record time. I carry the little thing straight inside and head to the fire, holding her and dusting some of the snow away. Her clothes are completely soaked and she’s shivering in her sleep. Her lips are blue now, and her teeth are chattering. I don’t know what to do.

“I’ve got to get you warm, little one.”

She’s so incredibly tiny. Her body must be frozen to the core. Laying her down on the blanket in front of the fire, I start to strip off the wet clothes. Her blonde hair has soft gold touches to it in the firelight, and it reminds of the color of honey.

I take off her thin, long-sleeved shirt. Her simple white bra underneath is soaked, so I have to take it off, too. I look away as I cover her with a blanket, trying to keep her modesty intact as much as possible. I don’t know this woman, but I would hope that if someone were to find my mate, they would take care of her without hurting her. The thought of her having a mate makes a growl rumble in my throat.

Mine
. The word hits again even stronger than before.

Carefully I remove her wet jeans and boots, only to discover her underwear has little bears all over it. I smile, thinking the little cubs are cute. Maybe if she likes bears…

I stop the thought before it starts and cover her with another blanket. Leaving her by the fire for just a moment, I go to my room and stoke the fire in there. The room is bathed in the glow of the fire in moments, and I throw a few fresh logs on to keep the room warm.

When I go out to the living room, I’m careful to remove her panties while she remains covered before I pick her up and carry her to my bed, tucking her in under the thick blankets and watching her settle into sleep.

I sit on the edge of the bed and brush a few strands of hair away from her face. She looks young, maybe late teens, early twenties. Her round cheeks are finally starting to show some color and she’s stopped shivering. As my fingers stroke her cheek, she lets out a long sigh and snuggles into the covers more deeply.

She’s so tiny and fragile. She needs someone to take care of her. Maybe that’s what brought her here. I could protect her easily. She is so small, I could just carry her around with me everywhere. No one would dare to even look at her.

The storm is howling outside now, and I’m so thankful that I found her when I did. Had she been out there another hour, she would have surely died. There’s no telling how long this storm will go on, so she’ll have to stay here until it passes. And then she can leave.

Maybe she doesn't have to leave.

The thought of keeping her flows through my mind, and I sit there, letting it play out in my head. How it would be to keep her for my very own. Having a curvy little thing like her to warm my bed at night.

I leave her there and go to the living room, picking up her soaked clothes off the floor and hanging them in front of the fire to dry.

Looking at the panties, I turn around to make sure no one is watching. I know that I’m alone, and the woman is in the next room sleeping, but this somehow seems sneaky. Picking them up, I bring them to my nose and inhale. The little cub-covered panties smell like her sweet pussy, and I growl into them.

I shouldn’t be doing it, but the scent has my mouth watering and my hand going down the front of my pants. I grab my thick cock and feel it pulse as the scent of her sweetness makes my inner bear ache with need. We won’t go to her, and we won’t take what she isn’t willing to give. But my bear and I can sit here by the fire, smelling her pussy and thinking of all the things we would do to the little blonde in our bed.

Chapter 3 *Lola*

I wake up warm and comfortable, my eyes heavy like I’ve been sleeping for days. I try to reach up and rub them, but my arms are pinned.
I’m stuck in the car
. The thought hits me hard, taking me back to the slide down the hill. The pure fear that rushed through my body, being trapped with no escape.

My eyes fly open in panic, and I’m looking up at a wooden ceiling. The room is lit by a small fire in the fireplace. I lick my dry lips and try to remember how I got here. There was a man. A giant man. He pulled me from the car and carried me here.

I wiggle, freeing my arms, and that’s when I notice I’m naked. Sitting up, I take a better look around the room. Everything is wooden: the walls, ceiling, and floor. The walls look like they’re made out of wooden logs. It’s rustic. Even the giant bed I’m in looks like someone hand-carved it.

Getting up from the bed, I wrap a blanket around myself. My knees almost give out, but I catch myself on the end of the nightstand. I hear a loud crash from somewhere in the cabin, then I hear what sounds like a freight train heading towards me.

The door bursts open, and the biggest man I’ve ever seen in my life is standing in the doorway with a look of panic on his face. I feel like I should be the one with that look. In three long steps he’s in front of me, picking me up. I squeak as he puts me back down on the bed.

“You’re going to hurt yourself.” His voice is deep and gruff, and I know I’ve heard it before. He must have talked to me. I can remember dipping in and out, and each time I’d hear his voice whispering to me. His hand brushing my face.
“I’ll keep you safe. Nothing will hurt you when I have you
,” he’d said. And I believed him.

He starts running his hands over me like he’s checking me to make sure I’m uninjured. He pulls part of the blanket off me, and I should protest because I’m naked, but all I can do is stare at him.

His hair is a dark chocolate brown and looks like it might be due for a trim. Or maybe he’s just been running his hands through it a lot, making it look messy. Even on his knees next to the bed as I sit on the side, he’s still taller than me. Wow. This guy is freaking ginormous.

One of his hands brushes my hip, and it’s so soft it makes me giggle. His eyes shoot up to mine and he just stares, eyes locked on mine. His eyes are just as richly brown as his hair, but a thin gold circle runs around his pupil. Then his eyes drop to my mouth. His attention there makes me lick my lips, and a sound comes from deep in his chest.

The hand on my hip digs in a little.

“I’m Lola,” I finally say.

He nods like he already knows that, and his eyes drop down further. The blanket is pooled at my waist. This time he licks his lips when his eyes land on my breasts.

I should cover myself, but he’s already seen it. He’s the one who pulled off my soaked clothes, I’m guessing.

“You already know that?” I ask, breaking him from his boob-trance. He jumps up, turns, and heads for a dresser. He pulls out a shirt and throws it to me.

“It was on your driver’s license, which I have confiscated,” he informs me, his back turned to give me privacy to slip the shirt on. I go to stand, and he turns, rushing back to me, gripping me by the hips.

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” he says again. It’s clear he doesn’t want me out of this bed.

“Bathroom?”

He nods and carries me into the bathroom. He flips up the toilet lid and sits me down and just stands there.

“You’re going to watch me pee?” I raise my eyebrow, and he turns around, giving me his back like that is any kind of privacy at all.

When I can tell he's not going to let me to pee alone, I get on with it. I get up to wash my hands and he comes up behind me, putting his hands on my hips like he’s holding me steady.

I look in the mirror at him, our eyes locking. He looks like he hasn’t slept in a few days. Or shaved, for that matter.

“You going to tell me your name?” I cock my head to the side.

“Bleu.” He turns me, picking me up again, but this time I wrap my legs around him. His steps falter, and that’s when I remember I don’t have any underwear on. Only his giant shirt that drops to my knees when I’m standing.

“I will feed you, then bathe you.” He says it like there’s no room for debate as he carries me through the house, sitting me in a sofa chair in what looks to be his living room. Then he heads to the kitchen and starts pulling stuff out of the refrigerator.

“Are you a cop or something?” He’s bossy enough to be one.

“No. I’m a carpenter.” He pulls some pans out of a kitchen cabinet and starts cooking. His eyes keep popping up to look at me like he thinks I’m going to make a run for it. Heck, I don’t even know where the fudge I am.

The carpenter thing makes sense, though, with all the wood around here. Almost all of the furniture looks handmade.

“You said you confiscated my driver’s license,” I remind him. That’s why I thought he was a cop. Oh, and the bossy thing.

“Yes, you clearly shouldn’t be operating a vehicle. You need to go somewhere, I’ll drive you or I’ll go get what you need.”

I just watch him, unsure what to say to that. It takes me a minute to wrap my mind around it. I pull back the curtain I’m sitting next to and see everything is covered in snow. And by the looks of it, it’s still coming down hard. How long have I even been here? It’s clear I can’t go anywhere now, and the sun looks to be setting.

“What about when it’s time for me to go?”

A deep growl comes from the kitchen, making me look that way. Or maybe I’m not going anywhere after all.