by Mia Wolf
Bear Caves Complete Series
A Bear Shifter Box Set
Mia Wolf
Copyright © 2020 by The Wolf Sisters Books.
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of the book only. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form, including recording, without prior written permission from the publisher, except for brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Contents
Book 1: Mated to the Bear
Book 2: Craved by the Bear
Book 3: Kidnapped by the Bear
Book 4: Protected by the Bear
About the Author
Books by The Wolf Sisters
Book 1:
Mated to the Bear
A Paranormal Romance
Bear Caves Book 1
Chapter 1 – Jessica
“I’ll take care of it,” I tell my Cruella de Ville of a boss.
I can almost see the smirk on her face as she turns around on her six-inch stilettos, flicking her ash-blond ponytail after her. What I can’t understand is why she is on my case. I sigh and pick up the fat stack of sheets Lauren left on my desk.
Lately, it feels like the entire universe is on my case. I try to gulp the sting as I imagine going back home and packing up my stuff. Home. Of course, it is no longer my home either.
I spend hours sifting through sheets of paper containing product descriptions from clients and hearing the photocopier click and clack to a rhythm that numbs my pain. I take the pile to Lauren’s office once I’m done, feeling a little relieved I can leave the office soon.
“There you go,” I say as politely as I can, and try to smile at her, but she doesn’t reciprocate.
I dismiss myself when Lauren doesn’t speak for a while.
“Jessica,” she says when I am about to exit her office, “I asked for three copies. This is only one,” she pauses, “and none of these are organized. I need it done before you leave today.” The calm in her voice is so cold and calculating. She adjusts her glasses, lightly tossing a few sheets in my direction.
It’s as if something fractures in me at that moment. I want to explode on the spot. I want to scream and lose my voice from the screeching. I want to yell at her and tell her to go fuck herself. I want to yell at my boyfriend, and at my best friend for doing what they did to me. I want to rip the pristine white sheets of paper to shreds, but instead of doing any of that, I stand there for a second, blinking idly at Lauren. I bite that scream that is stuck in my throat and the tears that threaten to spill from my eyes. I can not cry in front of her, I remind myself and swallow all of my anger. She probably feeds off of human weakness, I make myself laugh at the thought. It gives me the courage to deal with life for a little longer. I straighten my spine and walk right back up to her and grab the pile of papers from her desk.
Some days just have a way of bringing you to your knees, don’t they?
I leave work ten minutes to nine which barely leaves any time to pack up my stuff from my boyfriend’s, I stop and correct myself, ex-boyfriend’s apartment. We broke up two days ago. More accurately, he dumped me two days ago, and now I have two weeks left to gather all of my stuff before my best friend moves into the house with him after I take my leave. It is as cruel as it sounds.
I make my way to Kristen’s place for the night, skipping the trip to my ex-boyfriend’s house. I can’t bear to look him in the eye today.
Kristen is my old roommate. We had a great thing going on until I moved in with Derek. She let me crash in her apartment at a moment’s notice the evening we broke up. I made a mental note to make some grand gesture of gratitude to thank her properly for sticking by me at, arguably, the lowest point of my life.
I hug her the moment she opens the door for me. When I finally let go, she stares at my defeated expression and hugs me again in response.
“I can make you coffee,” she offers weakly.
“Thanks, Kristen. But I should sleep. Long day tomorrow, and it seems like Lauren is upset with me for some reason which doesn’t make things easier.” I pass her what can hardly be considered a smile, hoping she doesn’t notice the broken spirit behind it. Hope as I may though, I know I am not fooling anyone.
She presses her lips, and the look of concern on her face makes me pity myself. I shake the thought out of my head, lie down on the mattress, and let sleep overtake me.
The next day, Kristen wakes me up at 9 am which means that I’m so very late for work.
“Fuck,” I curse then apologize to Kristen. She despises yelling.
I arrive at work sufficiently late, but I prepared myself to hear an earful the entire commute. No point of delaying the inevitable, I tell myself and go straight up to Lauren’s office to explain the situation. I know she will already be in there. No matter how cruel or menacing she is, her work ethic is bullet-proof. She is always on time and abhors people who are late which translates to me being very dead in this scenario.
“I’m so sorry, Lauren. I—,” I barge into her office unbidden and begin to make the excuse I had concocted on my way here.
“No need.” She lifts her hand with her head still buried in the paperwork. After a long pause, she speaks again, “you’re fired.”
Again that calm and chilling voice echoes, but this time the chill creeps right up to my spine. I feel like I might break into a seizure, but it is only my insides being ripped to shreds.
I pull myself back to reality. “Lauren, I can explain,” I say, keeping my voice just as even as hers. I surprise myself by the confidence with which I speak. It doesn’t work of course.
All my pleas die in my throat when Lauren gestures for me to leave with only a flick of her hand.
I exit her office without another word. Every step I take towards my desk fills me with more and more sorrow. This is rock bottom, I tell myself as I gather my stuff, the tears no longer stopping no matter how hard I try. I become a spectacle for everyone to watch as I pick up each of my belongings, wiping pools of teardrops from my eyes. This is not a show, I want to scream at them, but I don’t. All of my words get caught in my throat.
The flick of Lauren’s hand flashes in front of my eyes, and it reminds me of Derek. The way he broke up with me. So effortlessly. I do not stop my tears, but I don’t fall to the ground either. I muster strength into my faltering knees. Get a grip, I snap at myself. I take the bus to Kristen’s apartment and collapse on the mattress the moment I reach it.
After spending all day curled up into a ball at Kristen’s place and bawling myself to dehydration, I decide to drink my worries away. For at least tonight.
“I don’t want to exist, just for the evening,” I tell Kristen to convince her to make bad life choices with me.
She agrees, most probably because she feels bad for me. Losing a boyfriend and a job in the same week secured me infinite sympathy points from her.
I bury all my thoughts far into the depths of my mind as I dress myself up from top to bottom. We dress in skimpy clothes, my request. I wear dark make-up, a black skirt and a tank top, and pencil heels. I want every single man to turn and take a look at me, I tell myself. When I take a final look in the mirror, I seem lethal.
Another one of my requests for the night is no upper limit on the drinking, I tell Kristen. She throws her hands in the air in defeat.
“Today we do whatever you say,�
�� she says. She even dresses in her black cocktail dress at my request.
We reach the club a little later than 11 p.m., and I gobble three tequila shots right off the bat which severely shortens my “drinking all night” plan. I already feel drunk which is desirable. I leave Kristen at the bar and join a random group of boys on the dancefloor when Kristen refuses to dance with me. In my drunken haze, going up to a group of strangers and shaking my body to the music sounds like a great idea. I forget nearly everything as my hands shoot up and start moving to the beat.
An amazing upside to being let go, the possibility of new beginnings. I dance my inhibitions away until Kristen pulls me from the crowd and takes me home.
“You’ll break your ankles if you continue,” she says.
“Kristen, do you love me?” I mumble to her, very drunk as she hurls me into her car and drives us home. “You love me, right?” I insist and put a finger on her cheek low-key jeopardizing our safety.
“Not right now, girl.” Kristen ignores my tantrums and pushes my hand away.
She pulls into the apartment parking lot and helps me to my makeshift bed on the floor.
“I love you,” I tell her as she tucks me into the blanket, “but I like boys, Kristen. I want to meet a boy who will be nice to me.” I make a sad face at her. “I thought I really loved Derek. But he was always so cold to me. I don’t know what I ever saw in him. To be honest, I think I was only afraid to be lonely. What Skylar did to me stings the most. She left me completely alone when I truly needed a best friend.” I break into sobs.
Kristen wipes away my tears, brings me a glass of water, and then leaves me to my own devices. She does have work to attend to tomorrow, I remind myself. The whole world did not get fired. Just me.
I lie on the bed, curled into a ball. I want to forget the pain, but it hurts so much. The despair comes in swathes, in debilitating pulses. Feeling extremely lonely, I suddenly remember the website for this dating site that Kristen had sent me the link to immediately after Derek broke up with me. She had always told me that he was no good for me and had taken the opportunity to steer me in the right direction. Somewhere deep down I knew, too, that Derek was no good for me.
Is it impossible to find someone who is kind? Someone who won’t leave me in a million broken pieces? I sniffle, then pick up my phone and go to the dating site. I enter my details on the login screen and write a little description of myself. I hope it doesn’t sound too depressing or desperate. I wipe a tear from the corner of my eye. The page asks me to upload a profile photo. It takes a while as I struggle to find a decent picture of myself that doesn’t include Derek. My heart snaps in two at the sight of myself next to a man I no longer recognize. I pick a few random pictures and upload them, but by the time I am done, I feel overcome with emotions again. I fall asleep to avoid it all.
I wake up the next day with a pounding headache, and when I find my phone to check the time something catches my eye. “A match!” exclaims the push notification. I don’t remember what it is about. I tap on it, and it says, “Congratulations! You matched with Joshua.”
Chapter 2 – Joshua
My phone buzzes and I turn around to pick it up from the table. It’s a push notification from the dating site where the clan has set up a profile for me. Apparently, I got a match already. I swipe the notification away in anger, and growl at their intrusion, bearing all whites. Not that anyone can see or hear me. I’m alone in my house.
As the alpha of the clan, I try to listen to the clan members and not dismiss the boys when they make suggestions. But this? This is absolutely ridiculous. Online dating? How can they expect me to trust, let alone love, some random girl off the internet? I growl again feeling annoyed, and look at myself in the mirror. Too often, I tell myself. Too often, I go easy on them. The ivory fangs peek through the curve of my mouth. I see the human in me shift to shades of brown fur in the reflection. Fingers curl into sharp claws. I have made it very clear that I will not take another mate. Why must they impose such a decision on me? Another growl, this one rumbles loud and shakes the one bedroom apartment. Good, let them hear my disapproval, I tell myself when a little bit of plaster dusts off the ceiling.
I shift back to my human form again once my anger ebbs. I get over my childish indignation with a shake of my head. It isn’t them against me, I remind myself. We are a clan, and a clan that doesn't stick together soon turns to nothing. The pack is already weakened after George and a few other bear families left town and moved away. It is not in me to see the clan that my father and grandfather gave all of their lives to build slowly crumble to pieces, at least not on my watch.
I peer at my reflection in the mirror again and run my fingers across the disappearing scar on my left cheek. It stings. Not physically but deep down somewhere inside my core. It stings from the memory of what it represents. Soon it will fade completely. Who will I be when that happens? A fury rises in me at the thought. I must remember her, I tell myself.
“Don’t ever forget her,” the growl comes from deep within my throat. Its roar rattles the apartment window.
I don’t know who I’ll be without the memories of her. I have a hard time already, finding the glimpses of my own soul. I don’t know who I am without her by my side.
The thought burns its way down to my heart. I calm the heaviness of my breathe and close my eyes to remember her. The freckles on her cheeks, her soft brown curls falling perfectly on her shoulders, the sheepish grin that plays on her face. The memories of her have become so clouded, I yelp. They keep fading like the scar.
“We keep fading, babe,” I say out loud and laugh a sad laugh. The mirror doesn’t feel sorry for me. Nor for my face wilting in agony.
My phone buzzes again, and I snap back to right now. It’s another message from the dating website. With shaky fingers, I tap on the notification. I’m barely able to read the text on the screen, it’s tiny.
‘Hello,’ I squint to read. The name on the top bar says ‘Jessica.’
I am about to dismiss the notification in my disoriented state when I remember the boys flanking me trying to convince me to sign up. They planned it, alright. Even back then I saw right through their ruse. But no matter what their intent may be, they are not wrong.
“You must do this for the clan,” they had said unison.
An alpha must have a mate. It’s an age-old tradition. It has been that way for centuries before my time. Never in my life have I felt more burdened by my destiny.
“We are nothing if we don’t respect what got us this far,” I can hear my father’s words ring in my ears. Would he have changed his mind if he knew he would leave me all alone to take care of this?
I scoff and shake my head. That’s precisely what he prepared me for all his life. My grip on the phone is far too tight. Its edge leaves a red line on my palm. It is better than crushing the device to smithereens in my hands. It is quite surprising how often that happens. I open the text message once again, and I snort in disbelief. I am really doing this, aren’t I?
My jaw still clenched, I punch in a lowly “hi” into the typing bar with unwilling fingers still shaking in silent rage. I hit send.
Chapter 3 – Jessica
Subject to a corner of Kristen’s one bedroom apartment, I refuse to let life bring me down. Instead, I consider it an opportunity to rise to the occasion. The very next day of getting fired, I call in a few favors. The raging hangover buzzes in my head, but I ignore it to the best of my ability. I get in touch with my former boss, Karen. If she hadn’t moved away to New York to expand her clothing line, I would still be her ace assistant. Karen and I were on fire whenever a challenge presented itself. We were unstoppable together. She had offered to give me a hefty raise to convince me to join her in New York, but I had refused. I wanted to stay in this town that is full of childhood memories of my mother. It warms my heart just strolling down the blocks where I used to go on walks with her. I did not explain any of this to Karen. She was quite disheartened when
I had refused to come to New York with her. The way she talks makes me think she is still ready with that offer for me to move to New York. I don’t bring it up when I ask her to help me out.
Thanks to Karen, within a matter of twenty-four hours I land two interviews. One is for a receptionist’s position at a health clinic and the other for a personal in-office assistant for a shut-in comic artist. Neither of them is exactly the kind of work I am interested in, but beggars can’t be choosers. I spend the rest of the day preparing for both interviews, and when I tell Kristen about my progress once she’s back from work, she pats me on the head as though I’m a cat.
The next day, I promptly get ready for the interview at the health clinic. Its location is a half hour drive away, and luckily it falls on the way to Kristen’s current workplace. She offers to give me a ride there later on, and I gleefully accept. I’m glad I got to meet her and be roommates with her before. You don’t realize who will stick with you in your time of need until the need actually arises. Kristen has already gone above and beyond to make my train wreck of a life somewhat bearable and less miserable. It feels good to have someone right now. I make a point to tell her that.
I wear my lucky red cardigan and put on bright red lipstick. I tie my hair in a top bun and wink at my devilishly good looks in the mirror once I’m ready.
I get told a lot that I’m pretty, but I hardly consider myself to be drop dead gorgeous or anything. I clean up great, and it is a quality I am proud of myself for. My friends will tell me to “get out” if I mention this in front of them, though.
Kristen and I sit at the breakfast table and eat a hearty meal of fruit juice and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. She is frantically typing away on her mac. I look at her mesmerized. She is such an inspiring life force. It only pumps me up for my interview.
