Bear Mountain Bride: Shifter Romance

by Sky Winters

  Dallas Blackwood

  I grew up with a terrible secret that I had to hide from the rest of the world. I am not a person. I am a shifter. I am now in control of it, but it has been a curse. I don’t want to drag this beautiful woman into my dark and dangerous world, but I cannot leave her either. She thinks she understands what she is signing herself up for. The outbreak has changed a lot of things about this world, but it can never change what I am.

  THE END

  Imprinted to the Bear

  The front door of the Zydeco Bar and Grille opened squeakily, and four biker guys came inside. Vicky Roberts looked up from her place behind the bar. She had short brown hair, large blue eyes, and freckles that ran across the bridge of her nose. She liked to keep her hair up in a half ponytail when she was working, so it would stay out of her face. The neon yellow t-shirt that featured the venue’s jazz-inspired logo clung to her body, revealing her curves more than she would have liked, but hey, it was a living.

  Like most waitresses, she had taken up this living so she could pursue bigger and better things.

  She finished topping off a costumer’s pint of beer and then went over to the newcomers’ table. “Welcome to Zydeco. I’m Vicky. What can I get for you?” She made sure to look at each of the guys so that they all felt cared for. That was one of the tricks of the trade.

  She managed to notice that one of them was particularly handsome. She’d have to watch out for that one, she thought.

  After taking their orders, she went back to get their requested drinks. The handsome biker was paying a lot of attention to her as well, frequently looking over as she worked at other tables.

  Once Vicky finally got a break during a lull, the attractive biker went up to her at the bar. “Hey,” he said, flashing a perfect smile at her and giving a nod. “How’s it going?”

  She did not know what she’d done to deserve his attention. “Fine,” she replied, looking at him and trying not to seem too eager to talk to him, or too standoffish. There was a fine line. “How are you? Are you in a motorcycle club or something?”

  He seemed taken aback by the fact that she had drawn that conclusion. It was not exactly a difficult conclusion to reach. “We are, as a matter of fact. NOLA Ours, at your service.”

  “And you’re their…publicist?” Vicky asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Chuckling, he shrugged and then nodded a little. “Sure, if you want. I’m technically the VP, though you’d never know that by the way these assholes talk to me.”

  She smiled at him. She could tell that he was joking. Mostly. “What’s your name?” she asked him.

  “Amos Steele,” he readily replied. “And you’re Vicky.”

  Still smiling, she nodded. “Yup. Right you are.”

  He sat on a stool at the bar, and she knew that he had no plans to go back with his friends any time soon. Maybe he was not totally kidding about them being assholes. Or maybe she was that alluring; in her ridiculous shirt and with her face glistening from sweat. New Orleans was no place to have an AC on the fritz. And the Zydeco AC had been on the fritz for more than a week.

  It might have been grounds for Vicky to quit, if she didn’t need the money so badly.

  “What’s your last name?” he asked with curious eyes, resting his chin against his fists.

  Maybe it was the heat in there, or maybe it was the flattery of the situation, but Vicky’s face turned hot as he looked at her that way and asked such a thing. She couldn’t tell now if he was just being friendly, or if he was planning to stalk her later. “Roberts,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him slightly.

  “Roberts,” Amos repeated as though it was a new name he’d never heard before, and not a name that was fairly common everywhere. “And where were you born?” he asked. “I can tell you’re not from around here. Your accent is different.”

  Smiling, impressed, Vicky nodded. “You have a good ear.”

  Amos laughed. “The N’awlans accent is just thick,” he said, making sure to add a bit of the twang to his speech for effect. “So where are you from? If I had to guess, I’d say… Boston?”

  She grinned at him. “Just outside,” she replied. “Very good. It’s kind of scary how perceptive you are.”

  Although Vicky was dazzled by this guy, she was starting to worry that he might try and become a distraction for her. The last thing she really needed was a distraction from her schoolwork…

  “Are your parents still in Boston?” he asked curiously. “Do you go back there regularly?”

  At that she had to shake her head. “No, actually. My parents died when I was a baby. I was in foster care, all of my childhood. But I don’t exactly consider that family.”

  Now she definitely wanted to pull away.

  “Are you off tomorrow?” Amos Steele asked her then. “Could I see you again?”

  Vicky shook her head. “No, I can’t. I have class.”

  “What class?”

  This guy did not know when to stop. She found him attractive and interesting, although his interrogation was scaring her a little now. “I’m sorry; I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll see you around, Amos.”

  She gave him another small smile as a parting gift, and then went to go check on one of her tables. They did not really need anything, but she needed them as an excuse to get away. The handsome biker intrigued her, and she would not have minded seeing him again, but his questions had started to feel intense. Vicky felt like she was going crazy from the heat and the stress of the day. She could have sworn Amos Steele’s eyes had briefly glowed gold while he talked to her…

  As soon as she was off work that night, Vicky carefully walked the short walk from the bar to her apartment building. She had lucked out in getting a place that was so conveniently close to her work, but that convenience came with a rent that could not continue to be paid by tips alone.

  It’s temporary, she reminded herself. It’s all just temporary.

  Once she was safely inside her place, she took off her shorts and the neon shirt, and replaced them with a long, loose t-shirt that served as a pajama top. Vicky let her hair down and gave it a good brushing before brushing her teeth. It was twenty minutes til midnight, and she had class the following morning. At least it was not until eleven a.m., but waking up was hard to do when work made her a night owl.

  Settling into bed, Vicky wondered if she was going to have those weird dreams about bears. She’d been having recurring bear dreams for as long as she could remember. Sometimes, they were just dreams. Other times, they were nightmares. She did not know why these dreams happened to her. She’d never seen an actual bear in her life. Then again, she did not have memories of when she was very small. Perhaps she had been taken to see bears at the zoo once when she was tiny.

  That was the only explanation she could think of.

  Sure enough, as she finally drifted off to sleep, she had visions of walking through a forest of spindly trees, and stepping into a circle of bears that seemed to bow to her. Their eyes had a golden glow, and when she looked into them her body was illuminated with warmth.

  When her alarm went off at nine thirty the next morning, Vicky did not feel like getting up. To be fair, she never did. She once had an ex-boyfriend who always teased her about how excessive she was with sleep. That could not happen anymore though. She threw off her sheets and stumbled, shivering, into the bathroom to wash her face.

  With a shower and some cereal in her, she was ready to go to her art class at the New Orleans Academy of Fine Art. That class was the reason for her move there from Boston. She’d received a scholarship and couldn’t pass up the chance. Art continued to make her life better, and help erase the emptiness of her past.

  She took a taxi to the building, and arrived in class ten minutes early. Vicky was not really a stickler for being on time or early, except when it came to this class. She placed her bag on her desk, carefully pulling out her sketchbook and pencils in order to give her project one last check before it had to be turned i
n.

  Right as the professor came in and was setting up to begin, a newcomer arrived in the classroom. He was tall and attractive, with an angular face, light blond hair, and piercing blue eyes. He wore a dark blue hoodie and jeans. Noticing that the chair beside Vicky was empty, he came over and sat down beside her.

  “Hey,” he said under his breath. “What’s up?”

  Vicky smiled. She was still getting over the hot guy from last night and now this dreamboat was giving her attention. Were the planets aligned? Was this a sign that something bad was going to happen to her soon?

  She was not what one would call an optimistic person. Life had been shitting on her so long that she thought any bit of something good was going to immediately be followed by something insurmountably terrible.

  Please don’t let this mean I’m going to flunk this class.

  One of the main reasons she’d declined biker boy’s offer last night was because she did not want a distraction from her art work. But how was she going to avoid that now, with hot hoodie boy sitting right there beside her all throughout class??

  The professor announced that it was time to pass in their first sketch projects. Vicky carefully tore hers out of her sketchbook and passed it up. Hoodie boy lowered his head guiltily, running his long fingers along the edge of their shared grey desk.

  “It’s okay,” Vicky found herself saying to him. “You’re new. I doubt it will matter in the final grade.”

  She did not know what had possessed her to speak up like that. But he raised his head and looked at her, smiling slightly roguishly. “The thing about it is, I was told about it but I still didn’t do it.”

  Vicky shrugged. “Like I said. It won’t matter, so long as you do the other projects.”

  He continued to look at her, appraising her, memorizing every detail of her face, apparently. “I’m Stuart,” he said, offering his hand. “Stuart Barkley.”

  She blinked at him and took his hand, shaking it a little before releasing. “Vicky Roberts,” she replied. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  Once their introductions were over, the class settled in to the day’s lesson on shading. They were given an assignment to draw a still life and be sure to focus on shadows so that they would utilize the shading practices she taught them.

  “Honestly, she teaches like we’re all novices at this,” Stuart said under his breath again.

  Vicky giggled softly.

  As she drew a detailed rendering of her art supplies as they lay on her desk, careful to shade one side of her pencil case and not the other, she glanced over and saw that Stuart was drawing her in profile.

  She blushed, flattered and not knowing what to say. Should she even say anything? It would more than likely ruin the moment.

  Instead of letting the subject matter of his drawing overpower her feelings, Vicky admired his technique. When Stuart first came into the classroom, without his project and acting like the typical lazy guy she’d known while she was an undergrad, she assumed that he would not be so skilled. Then she remembered that this was a prestigious program and she was not the only one there who’d earned their place in the classroom.

  This drawing of his proved that to her. Stuart was not only painfully attractive, he was also very talented. Maybe it would not be so bad if he distracted Vicky after all. He could distract her and inspire her at the same time.

  When class was over for the day and Vicky packed up her things, Stuart placed his small sketch pad back into the front pocket of his hoodie. “What do you do for fun around here?” he asked. “You seem to have your shit together more than I do.”

  She smiled at him. She could tell that he was a transplant from some other state, like she was. Amos had helped her be more attuned to that, not that it mattered to her where a person was from. “I wouldn’t call it fun, but I work at a bar nearby called Zydeco,” she told him. “I work there most nights to pay for this school.”

  Stuart nodded, appearing thoughtful when she mentioned the bar’s name. “That’s a dangerous place. I’ve heard it’s mostly visited by bikers and thugs.”

  Vicky shrugged a little. “Aren’t most bars like that?”

  “Do you like to go hiking?” he asked, changing the subject. “We should go hiking outside the city one of these days. There’s more to Louisiana than bars and art and jazz.”

  “Oh, really?” she joked. “That’s not what my travel book said.”

  That made Stuart smile. He seemed like a cool guy. A little over-cautious, but cool. She couldn’t blame him for being wary of the bar. After all, he had a point. The place was crawling with unsavory types, try as her boss might to keep them out.

  “I’m free all day two days from now,” Vicky said. “You can pick me up here.” She pulled her sketchbook out of her bag and sacrificed a corner of one page to writing down the address of Zydeco. She did not want to give out her home address to anyone just yet. Stranger danger, all that stuff. She tore the corner off and handed it to Stuart. The rest of that ripped page could be used as a draft page, she thought.

  Stuart took the paper and neatly folded it before placing it into the front pouch of his hoodie as well. “Thanks,” he said. “What time will be good for you?”

  “Afternoon?” she replied. “We can solidify the plan closer to the day?”

  “So… tomorrow?” he asked, smiling at her.

  She smiled back. “Tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Everybody’s Staring

  Vicky had a few hours between her class and her shift. She took advantage of the free time by sleeping as soon as she got home. She would need to be well-rested if she had any hope of working from four to midnight. Sometimes she wondered why she had ever agreed to eight hours of the late night shift ‘whenever available.’ But then she remembered her rent plus utilities plus left over tuition that the scholarship didn’t cover, and she felt like crying.

  This is just temporary, she reminded herself blearily as she lay on her bed, trying to will her brain into sleep.

  Before long, the bears were back, this time they were in her apartment, and growling something as if she was supposed to understand.

  The alarm at three thirty saved her. She snapped awake and felt relief flow through her. Then she exchanged her jeans and blouse for short shorts, and another neon Zydeco shirt. This time, she’d be wearing bright pink.

  She hobbled into work and started serving drinks at the bar, all the while imagining Stuart Barkley and what he would look like in hiking gear. Would he look the same plus boots? She smirked a little.

  At one point, she glanced over and realized that a guy was staring at her from a nearby table. He was wearing a black leather jacket that perfectly matched his black hair. His eyes appeared to be green and he looked familiar to Vicky.

  Then she realized where she knew him from. He was the guy from the night before. Amos Steele. A strange sensation of fear vibrated through her spine.

  Suddenly, the glass she was filling from the tap overflowed onto the floor.

  “Shit!” she shouted, letting go of the tap. She hadn’t been paying attention. “That was stupid,” she said, grabbed a roll of paper towels and getting to work cleaning up as soon as possible.

  Ben, the head bartender and the boss, stared at her as if she’d gone mental. “Are you all right, Vicky?” he asked her, his annoyance making it hard for him to also sound concerned.

  She nodded, dumping a pile of sopping towels into the trash. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I guess I’m a little out of it tonight.”

  As soon as the spot was clean, she made sure the glassful of beer was okay before serving it to the waiting customer. “Sorry for the delay,” she said, strolling back up to the bar from the tables.

  When she turned and looked back in the direction where she thought she’d seen Amos, there was no sight of him. Either he was gone now or he’d never been there in the first place.

  It doesn’t matter now that I didn’t want him to be a distraction, she thought. It
looks like he’s a distraction anyway.

  The following morning, Vicky felt like she may as well not have even tried to sleep. The bears were relentless, and she tossed and turned all night. “I’m wondering if I ought to see a counselor about this,” she said out loud to herself as she stared at her alarm clock, wishing it did not say nine thirty.

  After a few moments spent cursing the time, she got out of bed and started her morning routine. As she placed her bag onto her back, she wondered if Stuart would be sitting beside her in class again. The seats were not assigned, but still she hoped so. She thought they’d struck up a pretty good rapport. And she could not wait to see the final product of his drawing.

  When she got to class, she realized, chagrined, that she was wearing the short shorts that she usually reserved for work. Ah well, she thought. At least it will make changing easier.

  Stuart entered the classroom shortly before the professor. Sure enough, he sat beside Vicky as though that was his assigned seat. “Good morning,” he said to her.

  Unless she was imagining things, he sounded a bit gruffer than before. Maybe he’d been out partying late last night. He didn’t seem like a partier, but then she did not really know him. He could have been completely wild. She blushed a little, just thinking about that.

  The class handed in their completed shading exercises. Vicky glanced over at Stuart’s as he passed it up to the professor. He had made her appear so flawless. It was artistic license. She knew that she did not quite look that good. She had the odd blemish here, an old scar there. But she appreciated that he had chosen her as his subject.

  “Your assignment over the weekend is to go out somewhere and draw something that you see. Take a moment, find a bench and draw your surroundings,” their professor said. “I will be choosing the top three drawings and they will be submitted to this month’s edition of The Fly.”

  The Fly was the academy’s publication that showcased the best and brightest students. It was named after a park that was a short walk away from the school. That gave Vicky an idea. She had a pretty good feeling that she wouldn’t be alone in thinking it, but it would still be good.