Romance: My Bear Boss: BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance (BBW Shifter Romance, Paranormal Shifter Romance)

by Ashley Hunter

  Ingrid had disliked being accused of being scared.

  After handling some of the hardest cases with some rough individuals in the past, Ingrid felt like she deserved to be renowned as someone fearless—lionhearted even—she was only being cautious.

  Still the sound did seem odd in the middle of nowhere. Ingrid glanced back to where her shoes lay and back where she suspected where the sound came from.

  Maybe it’s the rangers?

  For all she knew that could be the source. Or it could be a bear.

  As if. Bears hardly made noises like those and supposedly weren’t around this area at all.

  Just some overgrown raccoon maybe, but that was it.

  Wolf maybe?

  That didn’t seem plausible either. Ingrid shifted her weight over her feet, antsy. She’d done it now. Hurrying back, she shook off the dirt and sand clinging to her wet skin before shoving on her socks and then her boots. It couldn’t hurt to go check it out right?

  Ingrid pulled her hands up to her hair and pulled on the edges of her ponytail, fastening it tighter on her scalp.

  With a nod to herself, she set off at a trot, hoping that whatever she found would be something that would be more interesting than terrifying.

  Chapter 4

  He could smell the fear as easily as he could smell the foreign sweat, the stink of addiction, the old haggard dip of rich cologne. It was impossibly disgusting, and even as he wished to dip his nose somewhere else, he had a job to do.

  The groans and whines coming from the man struggling against his grip were constant and annoying, but nothing he wasn’t expecting.

  If anything it was downright insulting. As if all the injuries and the pain he had endured had been caused by a pathetic sobbing man rather than the beast he had been wanting to rip apart for years.

  “You know,” He began speaking to himself, “I was really expecting more.”

  He gave another yank and his captive stumbled to his knees. The tied man let out a weak groan before attempting to stand up. He didn’t give the pathetic man a chance.

  With a kick to the lesser man’s thigh, the tied up male fell to the ground, howling against the tight gag between his teeth.

  His captor shook his head as he watched the man try to wriggle away.

  All it took was a simple press of a boot to his throat to stop him squirming. “I wondered if your kind had even an ounce of dignity but here we are… and you’re as pathetic as dying dog.”

  After a pause and panicked wheezing from his captive, the bigger man looked around, barely seeing the edge of the lake through the thick curtain of trees around them. This was a good spot.

  With a snort he glanced back down, committing the sight to memory. Mangled hair, and a black blindfold covered the man’s eyes but wasn’t enough to hold back the trail of dirt stained tears running down his cheeks and soaking into the blood covered gag.

  Stubble covered the man’s jaw like moss on a tree and barely bothered to hide the throbbing pulse against his neck.

  “Where I come from, we usually allow those who are about to pass on,” he had to step a little harder against the man’s neck when he let out a particularly loud whine.

  “A final view of their surroundings and maybe even look up at the sky for a little while. But you hardly deserve the courtesy.”

  The weaker man struggled again, tried to shove him off, but the knots around his wrists were tight and there was no way he could considering his wounds. It was almost pitiful.

  “I will tell you what though,” he continued, running a hand through thick brown hair.

  “There’s a half-moon over us… that should tell you all the kind of mercy I’m willing to offer you. For your last sight I mean.” Easily, he stooped down before nudging his fingers beneath the blindfold and pushing them off.

  He was met with wide, blinking eyes and a look of desperation.

  “Any last words?” He muttered quietly. The man beneath nodded fervently, hoping against hope. He almost laughed.

  “Too bad, McKinney. Because she didn’t get the opportunity,” he added this with a hint of rage through his voice.

  “So neither will you.”

  McKinney let out a series of desperate whines, trying to speak through the gag and even pleading with his eyes. He didn’t much care for it as he reached his hands down to grip around his head.

  McKinney let out one final cry against the cloth before his head was yanked viciously to the side and a loud crack to escape into the air.

  Silence came after the echoes disappeared, and it took a small moment of looming over the corpse before he turned around. It was done.

  There was no relief. No hope. Nothing but the silence that come with a kill and while he had been once tempted to leave him tied up and let the wolves feast on his flesh—ironically—he couldn’t really do it. Not after all this.

  With a sigh, he bent down and scooped up a handful of dirt into his hand before reaching over and pouring it over the cadaver. It was enough to cover the staring eyes.

  For a moment he stood, breaths escaping from his lungs with some difficulty.

  Eventually his eyes found the sky and he wondered for a moment if there truly was peace now waiting for him.

  His answer didn’t come in the way he had expected.

  The gentlest crack of a twig alerted him to turn into a different direction and it was instantly met with a wide and horrified stare, surrounded by a curtain of wavy brown and a pale hand pressing beneath a nose against a mouth. A woman.

  There was a moment of shock that past between the unexpected spectator and the unsuspecting murderer. A moment that passed through millions of decisions and possible choices.

  Suddenly, she let out a gasp and in that instant he felt his muscles coil. She turned, and he was already beginning to move, and she bolted.

  There was no doubt in his mind that she had seen… she had seen him murder that man.

  Why she was there at all was beyond him, but there was only one thing on his mind.

  He couldn’t let her escape. As fast as she was, he was faster.

  He would not let her escape.

  Chapter 5

  Fear made her shake inside, made her numb to the sensation of foliage slapping against her skin, scratching at her arms and yanking at her clothes.

  Ingrid wanted nothing more than to run, jump into her car, and get the hell out of this place and back to her home.

  What the hell did she just see? What the hell just happened?

  I just saw a murder… The thought filtered through her mind and slapped her with its force, making her nearly slam into a tree she was trying to dodge.

  I just saw a murder!

  This was worse than a bear, worse than any wolf… she had expected finding something else, something completely different. But she saw it. Saw a man stand over another and break his neck with his bare hands.

  In a careless moment, Ingrid glanced back over her shoulder, hoping to see nothing but trees and a dark green canopy of leaves and forest.

  Instead, she saw the man… saw the murderer running after her. And he was gaining on her.

  “Come back here!” He suddenly exclaimed at her and Ingrid let out a cry when her foot stumbled over a root in the earth.

  The cry turned into a shriek when she was unable to regain her footing and she all but slammed against the ground.

  Scrambling back up she tried to run faster, tried to maintain her breathing controlled instead of panics and sobbing gasps.

  “I’m not going to hurt you!”

  There was no way she was stopping, she couldn’t!

  Ingrid felt tears blur her vision as she growled at herself to run faster, push her body farther, but she could feel his presence at her heels and her nerves were fraying as quick as her hair flew into the wind.

  Suddenly, she felt a hand grab around her arm, pull her back roughly. Ingrid felt her heart fly into her throat.

  “No—no, NO!” Ingrid shrieked into
the air, throwing a wild punch into her captor’s face.

  Instead, he blocked it easily before twisting her around.

  “What did you see?” He asked her even as she struggled wildly.

  “Answer me, what did you see?!”

  “Don’t hurt me!” Ingrid begged, thrashing for her life.

  “Please—please!”

  “I’m not going to—just tell me what you—“

  “Let me go—please I won’t tell anyone—I promise!”

  “Did you see it?!” He insisted, grappling against her frantic blows and pushing her flush against him.

  Ingrid could only focus on his eyes. His insanely brown eyes. The eyes of a killer.

  “I won’t tell—I promise,” Ingrid babbled, sobbing through choking breaths and hyperventilation.

  “Please, please just let me go!”

  “So…” He said after pulling her arms down and meeting her gaze firmly.

  “You saw…” he stated gravely.

  “I won’t t-tell, please. Please…!”

  Instead, he let out a sigh and gave her a grim look, tugging one of his big hands over her face to grasp around her jaw.

  Ingrid gasped as he folded her against him as easily as folding paper. “I’m sorry.”

  Ingrid let out one scream before she was suddenly sinking into a pit of black.

  Chapter 6

  She woke to a pounding headache and aching bones. Her neck felt sore and her mouth was as dry as sand and when Ingrid pulled herself up from where she lay, she realized the fabric beneath her was smooth and gentle—nothing like the cotton of her bed.

  A moment later, she realized that something was holding her wrists down against the edge of where she lay and when she glanced up, she saw a glint of silver.

  Handcuffs.

  She recognized the circular restraints easily, and when she managed to sit up, she was horrified to realize that there was nothing about her surroundings that she did.

  It was a small room… or rather it was a fairly normal sized room, but the bed she was on was huge. It was styled somewhat ridiculously, completely with a canopy and curtains to shield from the light.

  Moonlight poured from a window away from her eyesight, and what Ingrid could perceive was that she was probably in a guest room of some sort.

  She remembered instantly. She knew exactly what was going on. Ingrid had been kidnapped.

  By a murderer.

  Her first instinct was to scream; to holler and shriek until someone heard her, but her logic stopped her from making such a mistake. She knew she needed to escape, but there was no way she could until she managed to get out of the cuffs.

  Glancing around, Ingrid felt dismayed when she noticed her shoes and socks were gone.

  What else was?

  She glanced around herself, but noticed her clothes weren’t different or gone. So far, she was alright. Thankfully so.

  Looking around, Ingrid tried to find the reason for her imprisonment but found the room bare of other life. Scooting up against the bed, she ducked her head down over her hands, letting her fingers feel over her hair.

  Her ponytail was still secure over her hair even if her locks were now splaying all over the place. During the chase, her hair had whipped free from its confines and some of the pins she had secured into her mane were missing.

  Still, Ingrid persisted as she rummaged through her thick hair, hoping to find just one little—Aha!

  Releasing a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding, Ingrid pulled the bobby pin out of her hair before securing it in her grip. Pulling away she immediately began working on spreading the little bit of metal slightly, she would need to work on this quickly.

  This wasn’t something she had done before, but she knew the theory well enough. Supposedly, it wasn’t too difficult, and given enough tinkering, Ingrid would probably be able to find a way out of the cuffs.

  Hopefully, she would do it fast enough to secure her freedom before her captor discovered her awake.

  Pushing her legs from the sheets, Ingrid threw a cautious glance over toward the door at the far end of the room. There was no telling how late it was, and how much time she had. All she hoped was that there was enough.

  With concentrated breaths, Ingrid tried to control the shaking of her fingertips to keep from dropping the bobby pin as she tried to find the cuff’s keyhole.

  Even though the lighting was dim, it wasn’t dim enough for her to fail to spot the little hole. With some determination, she stuffed the curved end of the bobby pin into its slot and began to fiddle.

  To her chagrin, the shaking of her fingers and the gathering sweat over her fingertips was more than enough for the pin to handle before it slid from her grip.

  With a muffled curse, Ingrid tried to chase the fallen pin down the side of the bed, but her wrists met biting metal before they could catch the wayward hairpiece.

  “Nonono—no, come on!” Ingrid hissed, before she brought her legs to press against the floor. Her toes touched over a ruffled sort of rug before she began to search with her feet.

  Whispering encouraging words to herself, Ingrid wedged her foot between the bed and the nearby nightstand.

  Her search proved fruitless after a long while of pressing and wiggling her toes and with a grunt, she ducked her head down low again to find another pin in her hair.

  Before she could even hope to find anything else, the doorknob suddenly turned before the door slid open, bringing in a cascading trail of golden light through.

  Ingrid squeaked, scrambling away from the side of the bed and further against the wall behind the pillows. Eyes wide, she found the figure now strolling through the room, staring without blinking at the sillhouette against the light outside.

  “You’re awake,” she heard and the voice made her tremble.

  “Who…” She began but trailed off, losing her nerve quickly when she saw the figure approach her side of the bed.

  She pulled away, cursing inwardly when her wrists were tugged against that corner of the bed. She knew it was him. She could never forget his voice. Not after what she had seen.

  He bent down, his hands reaching over the nightstand and finding a lamp sitting innocently over its surface.

  Gold light erupted from the bulb within a translucent glass holder, making Ingrid blink away stars. When her vision stabilized, she finally glanced up, and regretted ever doing such a thing.

  She had hoped he was ugly, she had believed him to be hideous in the moments when she had seen him kill that other man. Because truly no human who could commit such a heinous act could ever be beautiful.

  But her chest felt tight with deep disdain when she recognized that this man—this murderer—was not just handsome, but truly beautiful. He had a strong jaw, and it held to a face so well structured that its ruggedness surprised her.

  There was nothing ugly about him. Not even a deformity, or mark, that made him look remotely evil.

  Ingrid didn’t know what was more horrible, the fact that such a beautiful person could ever do something so awful as murder, or the fact that such beauty could grace someone so vile enough to consider the act.

  “Who are you?” He spoke and she gave a start, just realizing that she had been staring at him.

  Taking the words out of her mouth, Ingrid felt even more robbed.

  The simple reminder made her angry, made her snap out of her daze to glare vehemently at him.

  “I should be the one asking you that,” She snapped.

  “Not you. Where am I? Why did you bring me here?”

  He gave her a half-smirk that disappeared as quickly as it came, “You’re hardly in the position to ask any questions.”

  “Why, are you going to kill me if I do?” She retorted defiantly.

  “Or are you going to go ahead and do it anyway? In that case, I can ask all the questions I want.”

  If there was any reaction he was expecting it probably wasn’t that, judging by the expression of genuine sur
prise over his face. Ingrid gave yank at her restraints, hating the way the metal felt around her wrists. The metal against her skin reminded her that if she planned on escaping, mouthing off to this man probably wasn’t the best idea.

  Anger dissipating, Ingrid bit down on her lip as she ducked her chin and escaped his gaze.

  When she looked back up, his expression had flattened back to the way it was before she had surprised him.

  “Look,” she began, “I just want to go home. I already swore I would never tell anyone about what happened.”

  “And what did you see happen?” He intervened, chin raising slightly as he looked down at her.

  The question made her feel small, but not as small as his gaze did. It was piercing, daring her now to try to sass back. Ingrid felt real fear take her then and forced her to look away and hope he didn’t decide to get rid of her then.

  “Quiet now, are we?”

  “Please…” She whispered, fists clenching tight as she tried to keep from shaking.

  “Please… I just want to go home.”

  There was a moment when he said nothing, and Ingrid was too frightened to look up at him again.

  Finally, “What’s your name?”

  “…Why?” She asked, and there was honest confusion. Why would he want her name if she was only going to end up dead?

  “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

  A humorless snort escaped her then and a few silent tears escaped her eyes. If she was going to die, she wasn’t going to die bowing her head.

  Sniffing, Ingrid faced him again, “Ingrid.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ingrid.”

  He said, and his tone was almost amicable. “You can call me Leo.”

  She digested the information with the same numbness that had taken over her when she had tried to escape in the woods.

  “Are you going to kill me now?”

  He smiled at her, amused.

  “I don’t see reason to do that any time soon,” He shrugged.

  The motion was almost graceful, and it drew her attention to the rest of him. He was sturdy, thick, but he held himself with a poise that reminded her of a cat. Which was odd enough to try to picture, but the way he stared down at her wasn’t unlike how a cat stared down at a trapped mouse.