by J. L. Beck
My lungs hurt as if thumbtacks are rattling around inside of me each time I breathe in. I suck in a shaky breath, and the smell of him hits me. I’ve never smelled anything like it. He smells like pine and mountain air, mixed with fresh-cut grass and sunshine.
Slowly, the feeling returns to my hands and feet, just in time for me to realize that my fingers are trailing over his naked chest.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Clearing my throat, I ask, “W-where are you taking me?”
“Home.”
“How do you know where I live?”
“Not your old home. Your new home,” he says, and I stare up at him in confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m taking you to my place, which will now be your new home,” he says, all matter of fact as if it should be obvious to me.
Dumbfounded, I continue gawking at him. He is a psychopath. He has to be.
He is batshit crazy, naked, and taking me to his place in the woods, where he is definitely going to kill me. I have to get away, escape. Once again, I start to struggle in his hold, but he only holds me tighter to his chest, his arms like two giant tree trunks.
“Please, put me down.” I press my hands against his firm chest to put space between our bodies.
“No.” He shakes his head. “You are hurt and cold. I need to get you inside and warm you up.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m not really that cold,” I lie. “Please, just let me go.”
“I can’t let you go. I would do anything for you, but I will not let you go. The woods are not safe, and you’re mine. We belong together.”
His statement makes my mouth pop open. What did he just say?
“I think you have the wrong girl. You don’t even know me.”
“You were made for me. I don’t need to know you to know that you’re it. You are perfect in every way, and I love you already.”
Yup, batshit crazy.
I open my mouth to say something else, but I forget what I wanted to say when we reach a clearing. Twisting in his arms, I spot a large house off in the distance. It looks so different up close that it takes me a moment to realize where I am.
Blackclaw Manor… oh fuck.
I’ve heard of this place. Heard rumors. I’ve seen it a million times, but only from far away. It’s secluded, miles away from town, and overlooking the lake. People have gone missing around here, and everyone blames the guy who lives in the mansion.
They think he is a serial killer.
I always laughed about those stories… that is until now…
I start to tremble all over again, and this time it’s not because I’m freezing cold. Fear wraps around me like a vine, tightening around my chest, making it hard for me to breathe.
“Please,” I beg once more, hoping just maybe he’ll listen. “Just let me go. I won’t tell anyone what happened. I promise.”
A deep growl rumbles in his chest as if he is displeased with my begging, but I don’t care. I’m beyond caring. I just want to go home, back to my small apartment, so I can cuddle up on my bed with a good book and a cup of coffee.
“I already told you… I won’t hurt you.”
“You’re just going to keep me prisoner?”
“I won’t have to. Once my cock has been inside your tight cunt, you’re never going to want to leave.”
The air stills inside my lungs as his words sink deep inside my brain.
Oh my god, he is going to rape me before he kills me.
I’m not only going to die. I’ll be violated too. All because I ran away like an idiot, and the only person I have to blame is myself.
4
Ezra
Shit. I shouldn’t have said it like that.
She’s human, and she doesn’t understand the mating bond. She doesn’t even know about me being a shifter or that we even exist. She won’t feel our connection until after the mating is complete.
I’m trying my best to calm her down, but all I did was freak her out more. She’s shaking again, squirming in my arms, trying her best to get away. Her half-naked body is rubbing against my chest, her scent making my head swim with indecent thoughts and my cock so hard.
I’m sure I would come if she would just rub against the iron rod just once.
Turning her face away from me, she gives me full access to her slender neck. She has no idea what she is doing, but my bear doesn’t care. He is screaming, pounding against my skull, urging me to bite her, to sink my cock deep inside her tight channel, and claim her innocence.
Not like this!
My mate’s quiet sobs deflate my dick in an instant. She is crying, and I’m the one that made her cry. My bear whimpers, knowing that we are frightening her.
The front door is still open from when I ran out. I carry her into the house… our house, and kick the door shut behind me.
Instead of carrying her up to the bedroom like I want to, I take her into the living room and place her gently on the floor in front of the fireplace.
She’s still trying to get away, pushing her tiny hands against my chest, but I don’t budge; there is nothing she can do or say that would make me let her go.
After a while, she stops struggling and goes slack in my arms. I look down, and for the first time, I allow myself to really take her in.
Her lips are plump and a pink hue again, her skin is not as pale, and her cheeks have turned a rosy red. Long dark lashes frame her big eyes, which are red-rimmed from crying, dimming the blue in them. I want to see her eyes light up. I want to see her happy, not sad.
I notice a scratch below her left eye, and I feel the urge to bend down and kiss it. The only thing keeping me from doing so is knowing that she would object.
“What’s your name?” her hoarse voice pierces the air.
“Ezra,” I introduce myself. “Ezra Blackclaw. What’s your name?”
“Summer…”
“Summer,” I try out the name. It rolls off my tongue as if I’ve been saying it all my life. I don’t ask about her last name because it’s going to be Blackclaw soon enough. “It fits you,” I growl. It really is the perfect name for her. Her blonde hair reminds me of sunshine and her pale blue eyes of the clear summer sky.
“How old are you?” She follows with another question.
“Thirty-Eight.”
“Wow…. you don’t look that old.” Her response makes me smile. Shifters don’t age like humans, and once we are mated, her aging will slow down as well.
“I’m eighteen. I just started college,” she explains.
It makes sense now. No wonder I was mateless for so long. My mate had to grow up first. A moment later, she speaks again.
“I want to go home,” she whispers.
The thought of her leaving angers me beyond measure, and I can’t hold back a growl. “Stop trying to get away from me,” my voice comes out rougher than intended, making her flinch, “you belong here and nowhere else. Do you understand?” The possessive need I feel for her is unlike anything I’ve felt in my life. I can’t describe it. All I know is that without her, I will surely die.
“Yes.” She nods, but I know she only agrees because she is scared.
I remind myself that it’s not going to be like this for long. Soon, she won’t be afraid of me. I’ll be her safety net, her protector, and she will understand what it means to be my mate.
“Rest and try to go to sleep. You’ve been through a lot today. We’ll talk about everything tomorrow,” I explain when I’m calm again.
She simply nods, then leans her head back against my chest. She closes her eyes, but her breathing stays quick and choppy, letting me know she is not asleep.
“I-I need to use the bathroom,” she murmurs after a while.
“Okay.” I get up, still not releasing her. I carry her up to the bedroom and into the master bath, where I set her down on her feet in front of the toilet.
Standing in front of each other, our size difference becomes more apparent. Her h
ead doesn’t even reach my shoulder, and in my shirt, she looks like a small child.
I hear her gulp, and when I look up, I catch her staring at my very hard cock. It would be hard for her to miss since it’s pointing straight at her. I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from grinning. Her pale white cheeks flush red, and her eyes dart away from my cock.
“I don’t want to have sex with you,” she says, and I don’t miss the tremble in her voice.
“You’ll change your mind.” I can see that she is not convinced. “I’ll be right outside.”
I step out of the bathroom, closing the door behind me. She locks it, making me chuckle. As if some flimsy wooden door would stop me from getting to her. I suppose whatever makes her feel safe right now.
While she is going through the bathroom cabinets, looking for a weapon, I’m sure, I find some pants to wear. I see no qualms in being naked in front of her, but clearly, my nakedness makes her uncomfortable and nervous.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I lean against the wall and wait patiently for her to come out. The lock disengages, and the door slowly opens, creaking as it does.
She peeks her head out first, then opens the door further.
She keeps one of her hands behind her back, and I wonder what she found. My razor? Scissors? I don’t have to wait for the answer long, because a second later, like a raging bull, she is charging at me. With the pair of scissors in her hand, the sharp end pointed straight at me, she dashes forward, aiming for my eye.
Pride fills my chest. My mate may be tiny, but she is fierce.
I snatch her hand a few inches before she reaches my face. Her body is confused by the quick motion, causing her to trip and crash into my chest. Worry weasels its way up my spine, and I wrap my free hand around her middle to keep her steady on her feet.
“I’m sorry,” she blurts out, panic lacing her voice.
She probably thinks I’m angry with her for attacking me. I know she doesn’t believe that I would never harm her. I’d never be mad at her for anything short of trying to leave me, but soon enough, she will. I pry the sharp object from her hand and throw it onto the ground, a few feet away. Pulling her to my chest, I lean down and kiss the crown of her head.
When I pull away to look at her face, confusion reflects back at me. A moment of silence stretches between us, but that is interrupted by the rumbling of her little stomach.
“You are hungry,” I state the obvious. “Come, let me feed you.”
Bending down, I pick her up once more. She lets out a small gasp but wraps her arms around my neck.
“You know I can walk, right?”
“I do know, but I like to carry you. Now, tell me what you like to eat. I will cook you whatever you want.”
“At this point, I’ll literally eat anything.” At her words, I pick up my pace. My mate is starving, and I need to take care of her.
5
Summer
Watching my seven-foot giant of a kidnapper preparing macaroni and cheese on the stove is just as unreal as the rest of the last few hours. My pathetic attempt to kill him didn’t go as planned, and now he is making me mac and cheese.
Who could’ve known the night would end this way?
Wiggling my butt in the chair, I remember that I’m basically naked. The only thing covering my body is his oversized shirt that fits me more like a tent.
Curious to know more about this man, even though I’m still convinced he’s going to kill me. I let my gaze wander around the kitchen. It’s very nice and surprisingly modern since the outside of the house looks more like a dark lord’s castle from the eighteen hundreds.
My gaze halts on Ezra. He put on some pants while I was in the bathroom. Thank god, but he’s still half-naked since he’s not wearing a shirt. Even though I shouldn’t, I watch his muscles flex as he stirs the mac cheese in the pan.
I’ve become mesmerized by the movement, that is until a low chuckle snaps me out of it. I blink just as he starts walking toward me with a bowl in his hand.
“Enjoying the show?” He grins at me, showing off a pair of dazzling white teeth. They’re sharp-looking, almost as if he could rip into my skin with little effort.
“I-I wasn’t looking at you.”
My face, that was half frozen earlier, now seems to be on fire.
“It’s okay to look. I was made for you just as much as you were made for me,” he explains his delusional fantasy once more while placing the bowl in front of me. I didn’t even notice him putting the mac and cheese in the bowl. That’s how caught up in him I was.
“Um, thank you.” I take the fork he laid on the table earlier and start to dig in.
He takes the seat across from me and leans back in the chair, his dark gaze moves over me, and I can feel it like a slow-moving fire over my skin.
“Are you not going to eat?” For a split second, I wonder if he put something in my food. Maybe he’s trying to drug me?
“I would much rather watch you eat.” He smirks like a weirdo.
What the hell is wrong with this guy?
I take a timid bite, making sure it doesn’t taste funny just to realize it’s probably the best thing I’ve ever eaten. My mouth waters and my brain urges me to continue eating. Taking another few bites, I stifle a moan. How is this so good?
“I’m glad you like it.” He gives me another smile like he is thoroughly satisfied with himself. “I’ll make sure we always have your favorites here, especially once you get pregnant. You’re going to want to eat a lot then.”
I choke on the mac and cheese at the word pregnant and head straight into a coughing attack.
“Shit, hold on.” In a flash, he is at my side, rubbing his large palm over my back gently. How can someone so crazy, act and look so normal at times?
I need to get away from him before I start believing his crazy story.
“I think I’m good now,” I wheeze when the coughing subsides. “Can I get some water, please.”
“Of course.” He turns his back to me and walks over to the sink.
Running might be a longshot, but I need to take the chance.
I need to get out of here. Especially now that he thinks I’m going to get pregnant with his babies. Jumping off the chair, I dash out of the kitchen and into the hallway leading to the front door. He curses behind me, his voice coming from the kitchen. There’s a chance I can do this, that I can get away.
I don’t hear his footsteps behind me, and for a moment, I think I’m free. That moment is short-lived when I’m tackled from behind. A scream rips from my throat as we’re flying through the air. I prepare myself to hit the floor face-first, but the impact never comes.
Ezra turns us at the last second so that he hits the floor, taking the brunt of the impact, and I land on top of him. His arms hold me securely to his body the whole time.
A groan slips past his lips, but he doesn’t let go of me.
“I tried to be nice and let you adjust. I tried to do this the easy way and go at your pace, but you leave me no choice,” he growls into the shell of my ear as he gets up from the floor, taking me right along with him. Instead of cradling me to his chest like before, he throws me over his shoulder like I’m a sack of potatoes.
“I’m sorry. I just want to go home,” I whine, which seems to anger him more.
“You are home.” His angry voice booms through the hallway, and I flinch away from him. “We are meant to be together. You’ll see for yourself soon enough.”
“You’re crazy. I’m not meant to be with you, and I’m not having your baby. This is wrong. The police will come for me.”
“Let them. You’re mine, and nothing they say or do will change that,” he grunts and starts walking back to the bedroom. Fear punches me right in the gut. The meal I just devoured is threatening to make a reappearance.
To my surprise, he doesn’t go up the stairs. Instead, he veers off and goes down a different flight of stairs.
“Where are you taking me? What are you do
ing?” I fire off the questions and look around as much as I can as he walks into a room that must be a cellar of some sort.
“I can’t trust you not to run away.”
It occurs to me what is happening. He’s going to lock me up down here. Trap me and keep me hidden.
“I won’t! Please don’t lock me in the basement!” My whole body is shaking again, and my fingernails dig into his back.
“You’ve left me no choice.”
He walks into a room and closes the door behind us. The space is dark, cold, and smells like dust, making me regret my actions and words upstairs. I should have played along, won his trust, and waited for a better opportunity to run.
Tears fall from my eyes as he puts me down on a mattress in the corner of the room. All I want to do is curl up in the fetal position and cry myself to sleep, but my captor has other plans.
He lies down next to me and pulls me across his chest.
“No!” I push him away. “Please, don’t.”
“I just want you in my arms. You’re going to get cold again,” he warns, wrapping his unbelievably thick arms around me.
He says he only wants to hold me, but his huge erection is digging into my stomach, telling me a different story. As if he can read my mind, he shifts me a little, adjusting the rod between his legs.
“You make me so fucking hard, all I can think of is my cock inside your tight hole, squeezing me… but I won’t take you until you let me. But just know once we do this, you’ll be free.”
“Free? Like, you’re going to kill me?”
He chuckles, and his voice booms through the room. “Oh, Summer, I would not dream of harming a hair on your head. I’d die for you. I’d die a thousand deaths, so you can live.”
If he wasn’t a crazy serial killer, his words would actually be romantic.
“So, what do you mean by free, then?” I ask cautiously.
“Once you let me claim that sweet virginity, you are free to go… if you still choose to, that is.”
“How do you know I’m a virgin?” I don’t know why that’s the first thing I ask, but I’m curious how he could know such a personal thing about me merely from looking at me.
