Stolen by her Bear (Black Ridge Bears Shifter Romance Series Book 1)

by Felicity Heaton

  He started towards her, each step harder than the last, shaking the floor, and she eased around the couch, refusing to let him grab her again. She neared the back of it, glanced at the door behind her to her left. This time, she was going out of it.

  “I asked Rath to keep it down, but no…”

  She paused as she realised something.

  He slammed into her, seemed as startled by the fact she had suddenly stopped as she was.

  “You took me hostage because you want to sleep? That’s ridiculous!” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

  Her cougar instincts were strong at times too, made her do things that her more rational human mind wouldn’t have, but she had never done something as crazy as this bear had when she was in the grip of those instincts.

  Although right now, her cougar instincts were making her stand up to a male who had at least twelve inches on her and weighed more than twice what she did.

  So maybe she did do crazy things when they were in control.

  Like standing up to an angry bear.

  Part of her had expected to shrink away from him, to cower and curl into herself and be afraid. Only she wasn’t. Rather than frightening her, his aggression only stoked a fire inside her, one that had her squaring up to him despite the difference in their size.

  Holly put it down to having three older brothers, all of whom were overbearing at times, aggressive just like this bear was. She had learned to stand up to them so they couldn’t trample all over her, forcing their will upon her.

  Now she was doing the same with him.

  He made a grab for her.

  She dodged backwards, nimbly leaping beyond his reach, something that ripped a frustrated growl and a black look from him, and was quick to round the couch, placing it between them.

  “What’s your great plan?” she snapped. “Swap me for sleep? All you’ve done is anger my alpha and my kin. They’ll be coming for you.”

  They would be coming for him quicker if she would just remember to go for the door every time she passed it.

  He snarled low. “Let them come. I’m banking on Cobalt trying to take you back.”

  Cobalt? She frowned at the bear as she pondered that. Why was he expecting Cobalt in particular to come for her? Because she was Ember’s best friend?

  Holly figured that made sense. Well, she wasn’t going to wait for Cobalt to save her. She was going to rescue herself.

  She eyed the door, a quick glance the bear didn’t notice as he rounded the couch again, hitting the straight in front of the log burner. She eyed him too, ran her gaze over him from his wild, unkempt brown hair over a rugged face, to impossibly wide shoulders and a torso packed with muscle squeezed into a checked shirt, down to tree-trunk legs encased in winter pants and heavy boots.

  As far as she could see, she was up against an older bear, one who had barked orders at the others and had been obeyed. Not a good thing. If she had to guess, she would say he was the alpha.

  Which meant he was the star of half the stories she had heard over the last few days.

  “Which one are you?” she said, refusing to whisper those words despite the growing fear she felt.

  He puffed his chest out a little, his smile confident. “Saint.”

  Warmth rolled through her as he tipped his chin up, some deeply primal part of her purring at the sight of him, at how strong he looked as he stood like that. She shut it down and continued with her plan.

  Her brothers always hated it when she found ways to belittle them when they were trying to trample all over her, when she acted as if she wasn’t afraid of them or wasn’t impressed by their chest-beating behaviour.

  Holly pulled a face. Shrugged for effect.

  “I don’t know one bear from another in this pride. You’ll have to tell me whether you’re someone important.” She raked her eyes over him and arched an eyebrow. Playing with fire, but she wasn’t going to let him intimidate her. She was going to irritate him. “You don’t look important.”

  He scoffed at that. “I’m the pride alpha.”

  She pretended to mull that over as she rounded the end of the couch, keeping him away from her. “So a pride alpha has resorted to childish methods of getting his way?”

  He growled. “I’m not being childish.”

  Holly tapped her chin, holding her nerve as he stopped opposite her, his face rapidly darkening. “My kin didn’t do as you wanted, so you took something of theirs to force them to do it. Seems rather immature to me.”

  Her heart shot into her throat as he vaulted over the couch and grabbed her again, an unwanted thrill chasing down her spine at the display of agility. Her pulse rushed in her ears as he dragged her against him, his grip on her right arm bruising, his face dark with anger as his lips flattened and his eyebrows met hard, narrowing his brown eyes.

  Holly tipped her head back and stared up at him.

  Breathed. “Saint?”

  “Hmm?” His gaze fell to her mouth, darkened in a way that had nothing to do with anger.

  A way that thrilled her.

  “You’re hardly worthy of that name.” She pushed the words out, sure she would regret them. Irritation flared in his eyes but he didn’t take them away from her lips. “You abducted me, and you’re holding me prisoner, and for what?”

  “Revenge,” he growled.

  She scoffed now, feeling bold as he continued to gaze at her mouth, as his grip on her slowly loosened, as if she had cast a spell on him and could control him. The thought she had some sort of command over this strong male heated the blood in her veins and was one hell of a power trip.

  “Revenge? What did Rath and Storm ever do to you?”

  His free hand lifted and he stroked two fingers down the scar that darted over his left eye. “Your kin gave me this.”

  He released her and tugged his shirt off together with whatever he wore beneath it, revealing far too much bare flesh dusted with dark hair.

  He tossed the shirt aside and growled as he pointed to his right shoulder, to deep scars that cut a groove in his muscles. “And this.”

  Holly tried not to stare at his body, tried to pretend she didn’t notice how the sight of all that honed muscle heated her blood in a way no man had before him.

  “And it doesn’t end there. You want to see the scars from where Flint tried to turn me into a fucking eunuch?” He reached for his belt.

  Holly shrank back and averted her gaze, her heart jamming into her throat and hammering there as panic swamped her, the sudden switch in her emotions wrenching a gasp from her lips.

  His hands stilled and then fell to his sides, and his voice was gruff as he growled, “It isn’t wise to wake a sleeping bear, and Rath—you—did just that.”

  She wanted to apologise, wanted to tell him that she would have kept the noise down if she had known she would wake him, but the brothers had assured her they wouldn’t.

  She refused to let those words leave her lips though.

  She refused to feel bad about any of this or what had happened to him. Not now that she knew who he was.

  She didn’t look at him, was too afraid to as her mind raced. “You’re the one who tried to kidnap Gabi… and now you’ve succeeded in kidnapping me. She told me about the threats you made… how you were going to—”

  Holly couldn’t bring herself to say the words. Her pulse raced, her throat closing tightly as she thought about the threats he had made to Gabi, how he had said he would erase the smell of Storm on her, and fear broke through the wall of her courage, tore it all down.

  Saint towered over her, radiating fury she could sense in him, rage that blazed in his eyes as her brow furrowed and she risked a glance at him, needing to know what he intended to do with her.

  For a heartbeat, he looked as if he might do something, but then he grabbed her arm and shoved her towards a staircase, releasing her before she even had a chance to panic.

  “Sleep,” he snarled. “I need space to think.”

  When
she didn’t move, he growled at her. It carried a warning, one she knew she should heed, but she couldn’t convince herself to move. She locked up tight, frozen not by his threat but by the glimmer of regret that shone in his dark eyes as he looked at her. Curiosity tugged at her as she stared into his eyes, making her want to ask him why he looked as if he wanted to apologise to her.

  His shoulders shifted on a deep sigh and he averted his gaze.

  She had the feeling he didn’t only want to apologise to her. He wanted to apologise to Gabi too. Had everyone been wrong about him? She found it hard to believe they had been, but as she looked at him and mulled over what he had said, she got the impression he acted rashly when angered.

  Did things he regretted when he had cooled down.

  “Saint?” she started.

  “Go to sleep,” he grunted. “The alternative is sitting on the couch with me.”

  Those gruffly spoken words were enough to convince her to head for the stairs, but she had no intention of sleeping.

  She trudged up the wooden steps, stopped at the first turn and looked back at him. He scowled at her and picked up the skillet she had dropped, slammed it down on the stove and raked his fingers through his overlong dark hair as he huffed.

  He cast her a look, one that held a flicker of an apology, and then stomped to the couch and slumped onto it.

  She crept up to his room, a plan forming in her mind.

  She wasn’t going to sleep.

  She was going to escape.

  Chapter 5

  Holly’s eyes popped open and she silently cursed. Falling asleep hadn’t been part of her incredible plan, but the furs beneath her had been so warm, laced with Saint’s smell, and the adrenaline had worn off as he had remained away from her, leaving her exhausted.

  She had only meant to close her eyes for a second.

  Anger directed at herself curled through her, heating her blood. She shouldn’t have fallen asleep. She should have been hyper-aware of the brute who was holding her captive, not letting her guard down by dozing off on his bed.

  His bed!

  She cast a fearful glance around her, half-expecting to find Saint beside her on it, and breathed a little easier when she found she was alone. Her clothes were as she had left them, her dark purple coat still zipped up all the way and black weatherproof trousers slightly rumpled but still in place. Even her boots were still on her feet.

  Saint really hadn’t come up to her.

  Maybe he was still in front of the fire. Still awake. For all she knew, she might have been asleep for only a second.

  She shuffled to the edge of the bed and quietly stood, crept to the banister at the front of the loft space and peered down into the kitchen below.

  Her eyes widened.

  Saint was still downstairs, but not in any way she had expected.

  This wasn’t good.

  She banked left, heading for the spiral staircase that led downwards to the ground floor of the small cabin. Stopped when she reached the final bend and stared past the very rustic and tiny kitchen that consisted of a handful of wooden cupboards and a worn wooden counter, to a major problem.

  The six-hundred-plus pounds of massive grizzly bear sleeping in front of the door like a bizarre draught blocker.

  Holly glanced at the window above the sink to her left, couldn’t make anything out in the low light. Was it still snowing? How late was it?

  Her gaze strayed back to Saint. Was he in a regular sleep or a winter one? She didn’t know much about bear shifters, hadn’t realised before coming to the Creek this winter that some of his kind liked to sleep through the colder months, much the same as their animal counterparts.

  She eased down the final steps and edged towards the kitchen, careful not to make a sound. When she reached the cupboards, she peered out of the window, squinting into the darkness. The low light coming from the log burner behind her was enough to catch on the flakes of snow as they fell, dancing past the window as a breeze played with them.

  The world was quiet as that snow gently fell. Maybe it was a winter sleep that had welcomed Saint into its waiting arms, had him curled up with his huge lower half wedged between the wall and the final kitchen cupboard, blocking her way to the door.

  The warm light of the fire shone on his dense fur, highlighting it with gold. Rounded ears twitched as a log cracked, his long paler muzzle wriggling, and then he stilled again. She waited for the fear to come, sure she would be afraid of him now he was in his bear form.

  Only it didn’t.

  She felt only fascination as she stood there looking at him, as she noticed the scar that cut through his fur on the left side of his wide face and darted over his eye, into the shorter hairs that covered his muzzle.

  Holly dragged her gaze away from him and took in the room, seeking another escape route. The cabin was smaller than she had thought, and far more basic than she was used to. Cobalt’s cabin had modern furnishings, including a brand-new kitchen and a very comfortable couch. She eyed the worn brown one before her, curled her lip at the dent in the far seat cushion that said at least one set of springs had collapsed, and the rip in the back of it.

  She looked around for a ceiling light too, almost shook her head when she found only an oil lamp sitting on a rickety side table. Talk about rustic. Did Saint even have electricity?

  His coffee table looked as if he had made it himself, the legs wooden posts as thick as her wrists and hacked at an angle at the top ends, where they had been shoved into the thick piece of wood that formed the surface of the table.

  She crept towards the other end of the room so she could make it out more clearly in the low light, and wanted to huff when she checked the entire wall and found only logs and cupboards. No windows. Damn it.

  Holly went back to the kitchen, careful not to wake the sleeping bear, and scowled at the world outside. The snow was falling faster now, the flakes bigger, and the wind was strong at times, catching the snow and driving it into the window. A storm was brewing.

  She cursed again.

  Visibility would be poor and the fresh snow would dampen all the scents in the area, masking them. It was going to make it difficult for her to get back to the Creek if she managed to escape.

  Not only that, but the snow would cloak her scent too, and that meant the chances were high that Rath and the others would think she had been caught in the storm during her evening walk and had been forced to shelter somewhere.

  She went back and forth as she watched the snow, as she checked out the window and found it was one that opened. There was a chance she could escape that way, might be able to make a break for it before Saint woke.

  Holly didn’t reach for the handle though.

  She just kept staring at the snow as the wind whipped it past the front of the cabin, apprehension rolling through her. She was strong. There was a chance that she could make it through the storm and back to the Creek.

  There was also a chance the cold would sap her strength and she wouldn’t find it before she was too cold to move. She hadn’t exactly been paying attention to the route when Saint had grabbed her. It would be too easy for her to get turned around in the woods and get lost.

  Saint snuffled in his sleep, luring her gaze back to him. His muzzle twitched, fur rippling in a wave down his back.

  Holly almost smiled.

  Caught herself at the last moment.

  She should be afraid of him. This was a show of power to deter her from attempting an escape and it was a good one, but there was a reckless, bold part of her that wanted to know what his rich brown fur would feel like if she pushed her fingers through it.

  Would it resist her? Be hard to move her hand through it? Would it be soft? Coarse?

  That same bold part of her wanted to know how he would react to her touch.

  Would he snarl and bare his fangs? Roar to drive her away?

  Or would he accept her hand on him?

  His rounded ears flipped back and forth, and his nose
wriggled. A low rumbling noise escaped him, almost like a groan, and he smacked his lips.

  What was he dreaming about?

  Holly tensed as she realised he wasn’t dreaming.

  He was waking.

  She twisted on her heel and hurried across the floorboards, praying none of them would squeak and give her away, and rushed up the stairs.

  That bold part of her hoping Saint would come to her.

  Chapter 6

  Saint was slow to shake off the heavy arms of sleep, his head foggy with the need to forget what he had felt and sink back into her waiting arms, into that delicious dream he had been having.

  He blinked his eyes open instead, because he was sure the female had been close to him.

  He lifted his head and looked around the room, but didn’t see her anywhere. He drew in a breath and caught her scent, savoured it as heat rolled through him, pulling his dream to the front of his mind again. His mouth watered, hunger for a taste of her flooding him, filling him with a need to know if she would taste of berries as well as smell like them.

  Gods.

  That was a sweet torment.

  Saint lumbered onto his paws and focused, summoning the shift. He gritted his teeth as his bones ached, as his muscles burned as some contracted while others lengthened, and rose onto his back legs. The fur that covered him swept away from his limbs, leaving naked skin behind, and then his chest and back, and finally his head. He grimaced as his nose shrank at the same time, his jaw and teeth moulding into new shapes, and shook his head as his ears shifted downwards and transformed.

  The shift took only seconds, but each one was agonising, had him wanting to roar out his pain as his body morphed.

  When he was back to how he liked to be, he staggered forwards, clenching his jaw as his stiff leg muscles stretched and refused to obey him. His fault for sleeping with his backside against a flimsy door that did nothing to keep the cold out.

  He grabbed the bottoms of his long johns and pulled them on, scrubbed a hand over his face and huffed.

  Fatigue rolled over him, beckoned him to close his eyes, but he couldn’t. He was too deeply aware of the female as his senses locked onto her in his loft bedroom above him. Her rapid pulse drummed in his ears, her fast breaths breaking the silence. She wasn’t asleep then. Had she been contemplating escape?