Romance: Wanted by the Alpha Lion (A BBW Paranormal Suspense Romance) (Heroes of Shifter Creek Book 2) (80 page)

BOOK: Romance: Wanted by the Alpha Lion (A BBW Paranormal Suspense Romance) (Heroes of Shifter Creek Book 2)
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Chapter Two

“Barry,” Cecelia sputtered to the operator. “Barry Conrad.”

              She was calling her brother’s base in god only knew where. His missions were kept secret, untraceable, but there was always an emergency line.

              The operator put her on hold. “I’m sorry,” he said when he returned. “Barry Conrad is in the middle of a meeting.”

              “But I need him. Now. It’s an emergency.”

              Of course it was an emergency. She wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t. Why couldn’t the operator understand that?

              “Would you like to leave a message?”

              “Yeah. The message is get my brother. I’m out in the middle of nowhere. The family I work for has been kidnapped, and I don’t know–”

              “Did you say kidnapped?” the operator asked.

              “Yes. Kidnapped.”

              “Hold on.”

              Holding on was the one thing she was trying desperately to do. And she was failing. Images of the triplets being held captive kept wrenching at her heart.

              “CeCe, I’m here,” Barry said, coming on the line. “What’s wrong?”

              She explained everything to him. The conversation was not calm. She spoke rapidly, her hysteria rising. “Can you come?” she asked when she was finished.

              “I’m thousands of miles away,” he reminded her. “And I’m in the middle of an important operation.”

              “More important than saving the Johannssons?”

              “That’s not fair.”

              She didn’t apologize. “I have no choice but to go to the police.”

              “Don’t do that,” he directed sternly. “If this is a bear issue, there’ll be hell to pay.”

              Cecelia never understood that – why the world of shifters had to stay so secret. Being a bear was as natural as being a human.

              “Listen,” Barry said, “I’m going to send someone who can help. His name is Marcus Sanders. He’s an old military buddy of mine. He’s in the next state over, so he can be to you in a few hours. Wait for him.”

              “What if they come back?” she asked. “Whoever they are.”

              “Run,”Barry told her without hesitation. “Keep your ears open and trust your instincts. No one has sharper instincts than you, sis. If you think trouble is headed your way, you run.”

***

             

              Waiting was torture. She didn’t know what to do with herself. After pacing madly around the drive, listening to every little noise, she finally settled inside on a rocking chair that overlooked the front of the house. Pulling a blue knitted blanket over her flannel shirt for comfort, she stood watch.

              None of it made sense. Why would someone kidnap an entire family? The only thing she could think of was that Mr. Johannsson had worked a legal case that pissed off one of his clients.

             
Oh god... if Michael hiccupped and shifted into a bear...

              She couldn’t think about it, so she rocked in the chair, waiting and wondering.
Why didn’t they take me?

              By the time the sun hung low in the sky, Cecelia gave up hope anyone was coming to help. Then she saw headlights sweep across the window, dim in the fading light. She’d given her brother the location of the cabin, but she forgot to ask what this Marcus guy looked like. It was a mistake. For all she knew, the kidnappers had returned.

              Abruptly, she shot up from the rocking chair and slid behind the sofa. It was a poor hiding spot, but it was better than waiting out in the open for dangers unknown. A car door slammed shut outside, and she heard footsteps on the porch. Soon after, the front door opens.

             
I forgot to lock it! S
he realized, sickened as she peeked from behind the sofa.

              The man who walked in was no soldier. He was built like one, with strong arms that ripped through his T-shirt, but he was unruly, with mass tattoos down those strong, tanned arms and dark hair that, though short, was undisciplined. Her instincts told her he was the rebellious, fly free type. Her brother was the exact opposite. He lived for structure and authority. That’s how soldiers stayed alive.

              A strange déjà vu sensation ripped through her, and she quietly fell back down behind the sofa, her heart racing. He was probably going to kill her, but all she could fixate on was how sexy the guy was.

Don’t be an idiot
, she scolded herself silently.
He’s not here to help you. He’s here to hurt you.

              “Cecelia,” the man said from somewhere nearby. “Come out from behind the sofa. It’s me, Marcus. Your brother sent me.” There was an impatience to his tone, like he was berating a child, but she didn’t care. She was just glad he was someone good, even though he looked so bad.

              “The sofa, really?” he asked when she appeared. “You should have gone for the gun cabinet.”

              “Be happy I didn’t,” she returned. “Thank you for coming.”

              “I was obligated to,” he stated, sounding very much like he didn’t want to be there. “Tell me, where is this family of yours?”

              “If I knew, I wouldn’t need you.”

              “Oh, you need me, honey,” he said, his brown eyes serious. “But probably only to talk sense into you. What makes you think they were kidnapped? Your brother filled me in on most of the details, but I’m not convinced. A hundred things could have happened here. They could be out teaching the kiddos to hunt like bears, or there could have been an emergency and they’re at the hospital, or they’re stuck in a tree somewhere.”

              She rolled her eyes, frustrated. This was not a time forbear humor. “Trust me, something’s wrong. They would have told me if any of those things were happening.”

              He still wasn’t convinced. “Hate to break it to you, but you’re just the help. You’re the last on the list of–” Marcus stopped and went to the fireplace.               “What is it?” she asked, joining him.

              He gently placed his hand behind her back, protective, and pointed with his other hand above the mantle.

              “I don’t understand,” she said, surprised by how familiar and intimate his touch felt.

              “The carving in the wood. It’s the symbol of the Bear Hunters. Was it here when you arrived?”

              Now she understood. Shocked, she stared at the squiggles in the wall that formed the symbol. It looked like a primitive sun, something seen on a tribal painting. “I don’t know,” she told him. “It’s been too warm to light the fire.”

              “No bear would sleep here if it was,” he claimed, his expression like steel. “This is trouble.”

              He was finally giving the situation the attention it deserved, but it was no comfort to Cecelia. It was worse than she could have imagined. Bear Hunters were lethal. With a knot in her gut, she traced her hand across the carving. “That’s why they didn’t take me. I’m no bear.”

              “Good thing I am,” he disclosed. “I can try to track them.”

 

              It meant he’d face the Bear Hunters on his own, but she didn’t protest. The triplets were out there. Inhaling deeply, Marcus took in the scent of the family, and then he went outside. She followed him and stood on the porch.

              “What can I do?”

              “Wait here,” he instructed, and then he changed, becoming a large black bear with the same unruliness as his human form. Growling into the twilight to make his superior strength known, he sniffed the air, matching the family’s scent better than a bloodhound, and he charged off, leaving her alone in the cabin once more.             

***

Bear Hunters. She couldn’t believe it. Cecelia had heard stories of them growing up, they were the monsters that haunted the dreams of bear shifters, but she never thought she’d encounter them as an adult. They weren’t prevalent. They hid in dark, twisted corners around the world, following their warped ethos. The Bear Hunters believed all bear shifters should go extinct. It was their prerogative to see that happen, but she didn’t know why. What she did know was that though their numbers were dwindling, forcing them to travel around in small bands that operated like a network, they were powerful. They succeeded more than they failed. Much more.

              And they had the Johannssons.

              Hours passed. Realizing it had been almost a full day since the family disappeared, Cecelia refused to wait any longer. She may not be a bear, but neither were the hunters. She wanted to fight. It was a trait her and her brother shared.

              She headed out into the woods in the same direction Marcus had. His paw prints were heavy against the ground, evidence of his enormous size. As she followed them, she was attentive to her surroundings. Far into the woods, she felt the burden of eyes on her, like she had the day before. Somebody watched her, but they did not strike.

              “Marcus, where are you?” she whispered, tightening her flannel around her.

              She found him alone under a large oak that dominated the forest around it. Still in his bear form, he lay unmoving, a spear pierced deep within his back. Stifling a cry, Cecelia ran to him and passed a hand over his heavy fur, not knowing what to do. He was so still... She set her hand near his snout, praying she would feel his warm breath upon her hand.

              There was nothing.

 

Chapter Three

 

              Refusing to accept that Marcus was dead, Cecelia placed his giant paw against her cheek to see if there was a pulse. There wasn’t. It was warm, but there was no life left in it. Grief stricken, she let his paw drop.

              As usual of her, her anger reigned over her fear. She pulled the spear from his back and tossed it far into the trees, hoping it somehow struck whoever did this to him. Then she fell next to him, her arms stretched over his fur as she began to cry, her anger short lived.

              She cried for the life Marcus had lost. She cried for Michael and the Johannssons. And she cried because she didn’t know what else to do. She could take the minivan and leave, but doing so felt like a betrayal to the family.

              But mostly, she cried for Marcus.

              He was a stranger, but he was still a person. His life was worthy of her tears. Closing her eyes, she pressed her head against his fur. A weird sensation came over her as she cried, similar to the déjà vu she had experienced earlier. It was peaceful, but it only made her sob harder. The weight beneath her shifted as Marcus changed, becoming human again, though he was still gone. It was the interruption Cecelia needed to compose herself. She backed away from his body, wiping away her tears as she tried to think.

She had to get away from here. Whoever did this likely wasn’t far. She was willing to confront them, but on her own terms. Facing the woods, she pondered if she should go back to the cabin or continue in the direction Marcus had gone in search of the family.

              “How did you do that?” a man that sounded very much like Marcus asked behind her.

              Sharply, she turned back toward him. To her disbelief, Marcus sat up, a head on his hand as if he had suffered nothing more than a headache and not the void of death.

              “You’re okay!” she cried.

              “Yes, but how?” he questioned. “How did you heal me?”

              She didn’t know what he was talking about. “I didn’t,” she said. “You must have healed yourself. It’s the shifter in you.”

              “But I thought...” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that the family is still alive. At least I think so. I tracked them this far, but then I was ambushed.”

              “What happened?” she asked, comforted by his news that the Johannssons lived.

              “I’m not sure. It was strange. I found an old man just sitting here. There was a knowing in his aging eyes, but he didn’t seem hostile. The spear plunging into my back – that was hostile. There must have been someone else here. I stumbled towards the man and I fell.”

              It was terrible to hear, but he was alive now. “We have to keep going,” she determined, stepping toward the opposite direction she came. “We don’t know how much time we have before they do something terrible to the family.”

              Marcus grabbed her arm. “I don’t think we can,” he told her. “I’ve lost the trace. It’s gone.”

              She didn’t believe him. “A bear’s sense of smell is unmatched in nature.”

              “I know. I think the old man has something to do with it. He did something to remove the trace, I’m sure.”

              “I don’t care,” she insisted. “We know they headed in this general direction. We’ll keep searching.”

              Marcus refused to let go of her arm. He gripped her like a straitjacket –resilient for her own protection. “This isn’t hunt and find, Cecelia. There’s something bigger going on here. If we want to save the family, we have to figure out what it is. Recon.”

              “Is that what you did in the military?” she asked, still having trouble picturing a rogue like Marcus taking orders from a higher command. “Recon?”

              “I did a lot of things in the military. Some good. Some unimaginable.”

              There was a profound regret to him as he spoke. It pulled at her. “You were saving lives.”

              “And I was taking them. War isn’t easy.”

              “No,” she conceded. “It’s not.”

              His hold on her arm took on a new meaning, as if she were his rock, keeping him steady. It was dizzying. Without thinking, she kissed him. No gentleman, he kissed her back, his tongue dominating hers. He pulled her close to him and pinned her against the oak tree, pressing his body against hers, refusing to break the kiss. It hurt a little, but she liked it. Rough was how Cecelia played.

              She knew they shouldn’t be doing this, not with the family to find, but she needed release from the anguish of the day. Her body craved it. Desiring more than his kisses, she pulled his T-shirt off, revealing the hard lines of his abs. Her core pulsed, sending a shiver down her spine as she traced her finger down his stomach, feeling his cock press against her through his jeans, as thick and hard as his abs.

              He stepped back. “Undress for me,” he commanded, speaking as if he had waited years to see her naked.

              Complying, she unbuttoned her purple flannel and pulled off the black tank top underneath. Then she unhooked her bra, letting her ample breasts fall free, proud of her curves. As she stood topless in her jeans, her long raven-black hair falling around her pale skin, he growled, taking all of her beauty in.

              “I want you,” he uttered, putting her hand on his cock, hungry for her. “I need you. Can you feel how much I need you?”

              It made her core ache. “Then take me,” she said.

              Desperate to feel each other’s touch, they ripped what clothes remained off each other, their kisses stronger than before, bruising each other’s lips. Once she was fully naked, he pinned her to the tree once more. “I want to know what you feel like,” he professed, and he plunged his fingers into her wet core.

              She accepted him gladly, clenching herself around his fingers as he massaged her from the inside, preparing her for the bear that was to come. His touch was like lightning, striking her body with a wave of bliss as his fingers plunged in and out of her. It felt so good, her core spilled over, drenching his hand.

              “I’m going to come,” she moaned, her back arching against the tree as he continued to ignite her body.

              Taking his cue, he turned her around and held her arms over her head. With great anticipation, she pushed her backside out and spread her legs apart, giving him access. In a brief moment of affection, he brushed her hair aside and kissed her back, and then he entered her.

              His cock was everything it promised to be. Thick within her, it filled her up completely. Letting her arms go free, he pulled her hips closer to him, pushing further into her as he began circling his cock, hitting every sweet part of her. Her wetness continued to saturate him, causing him to grow bigger inside her.

              She moaned loudly. It ached to have him inside of her, but it was the type of pain her body yearned for. Hearing her moan set him off. Unable to control himself, he began driving himself harder, building up momentum until his thrusts were merciless.

              She loved it. Bending forward as far as the tree allowed, she invited him to be as rough with her as he wanted, every stroke of his cock inside her like another burst of lightning.

              “More,” she encouraged, feeling the thunder about to erupt. “I want more.”

              Growling with satisfaction, he rubbed her clit as he continued to thrust. It sent her over the edge. Her core flooded over as a wave of bliss sieged her – the release she’d craved.

              Her climax was his. With a final thrust that touched her soul, he joined her in her bliss, holding her close as his affections poured free, still firmly inside her. It felt so natural to have him there that she was disappointed when he eventually moved away.

              But it was only temporary. Facing her once more, he kissed her again, his grip strong but his intentions much more tender. “You saved me today,” he murmured before moving his kisses down to her neck. “In more ways than one.”

              She didn’t know why, but something about the way he spoke hit a chord in her. That’s when she realized – they had met before.

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