What a Bear Needs (The Wild Side)

by Nikki Winter

  What a Bear Needs

  Nikki Winter

  Copyright © 2014 by Nikki Winter

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including but not limited to: printing, photocopying, faxing, recording, electronic transmission, or by any information storage or retrieval system without prior written permission from the authors or holders of the copyright.

  This book is a work of fiction. References may be made to locations and historical events; however, names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the authors’ imaginations and/or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), businesses, events or locales is either used fictitiously or coincidental. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.

  Published by: Nikki Winter Publishing

  Cover Art: Bree Archer

  http://breearcher.com/

  Note about ebooks

  eBooks are NOT transferable. Re-selling, sharing or giving away eBooks is a copyright infringement. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.

  Dedication

  I gift you all with the ridiculous horrors that reside in my head. May Maddox bring you laughs, may Cree bring you warmth and may this story be all you hoped it would—Nikki

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Epilogue

  More about the Author

  Nikki’s Other Works!

  Prologue

  There was something about mountain air; the crisp cool scent that carried on the breeze heightening every sense one held, causing their hair to stand on end, their lungs to fill until bone melting contentment settled down into their soul. Out of all of those in her tribe, aside from the older members of her people, Nasnaana Daniels was one of the few who could still enjoy that sensation. Unlike many, she still very much believed in tradition, believed that the Athabaskan retained their power from the Earth, from the strength of the spirits. With their gift of the wolf, there was so much they drew from their sacred connection to the beauty that surrounded them. This was why she continued to seek out the guidance of her ancestors, never growing arrogant enough to believe that she could escape fate without consequence.

  However, it seemed that fate had its own plans as of late, whether she cooperated or not. On some level, Nasnaana had always known this day would come, had felt the coolness of it bushing against the nape of her neck, had heard that tell-tale whisper in the quiet of the night. From the moment her eyes had met ones similar to the shade of her mother’s mother, witnessed the power in that gaze that was far too young to be so incredibly astute, she’d known.

  That child, the very one she’d watched from afar, witnessing the love shed on her by her parents, seeing her take her first steps as she discovered the world with an air of wisdom swathing her, was becoming something that not she nor anyone in Nasnaana’s tribe could control. It was beginning to make the elders restless but none could determine why exactly. Nasnaana knew. She understood that the pup’s parents had brought something into this passage of life that was more than “other” it was…extraordinary. But that was the problem wasn’t it? That she deviated from what was normal. The child’s differences made her place in the pack unsure and shaky. Criticism rained down on her consistently. She wasn’t simply shaman, she surpassed alpha and couldn’t be placed as omega. The child transcended almost everything they knew to be real. So, the question remained—was the girl a threat to their way of life?

  Had anyone asked, Nasnaana would’ve told them no. Would’ve explained that she was nothing like her mother; would never be incapable of handling the gifts placed upon her shoulders. She was stronger, more determined. It surrounded her, made her walk surer and her words slower but no less wise. However, they all disregarded the girl as no more than another anomaly, another specimen to be observed and monitored because of events that had plagued them all years ago. No one questioned Nasnaana. No one asked her a thing. Despite her history of serving her tribe well. Despite her heritage of being a descendant of Otisioza of Nulato, one of the three greatest shamans the Athabaskan tribe had ever seen. Despite the fact that her feet had touched the earth and walked alongside the Great Spirit. Despite the fact that her origin was a whispered fairytale that dated back to when the moon still vocalized its thoughts and called Nasnaana daughter. They never even queried.

  For if they had, she could have told them that the girl would bring nothing but good fortune to their people. She could have told them that she would be nothing aside from a bottomless source of discernment and insight once she found her way and walked the path paved for her. She could’ve told them that the pup would not be their detriment but their own hate for a child being punished for the sins of others would.

  Nasnaana wasn’t given the chance. It wasn’t long before the girl left on her own accord. It wasn’t long before she saw her tribe fall prey to greed and pride. That’s when she knew and understand that when the girl did return, there would be a reckoning, the likes of which they’d never seen.

  One

  What he was doing was most certainly not classified as stalking and any opposition to his viewpoints would be met with a swift paw to the face! No, he was simply loving her…from a distance. Yes, that was exactly what this was. Maddox Malisle McKenna did not stalk women. He didn’t have to. As a matter of fact, they stalked him goddammit!

  So what if he’d managed to stay at least twenty yards behind her as she made her way through the Colorado woods, seemingly oblivious to his presence? Who cared if he’d purposely woken up an hour ahead of her this morning, knowing that she’d leave her cabin at the first sign of dawn and take her daily trek? Who would be looking if he openly leered at the way her strong legs and incredibly well shaped ass moved in those jeans? And who—who—would question his reasons for doing all of this? No one! That was who! He had a purpose, an intent, a goal. What was said goal? To figure out what the fuck Cree Chayton did every morning when no one else was around.

  He needed to know and he needed to know now. Call it curiosity, eagerness or being intrusive, Maddox cared not. His only concern lie within the strange, violent, incredibly beautiful woman who…he’d just lost sight of…

  “Um…” Stopping in his tracks, Maddox cast his stare around the rows of trees surrounding him. Sunlight hadn’t quite seeped in yet and the darkness had an eerie quiet that was unsettling; even to a grizzly.

  Maddox blamed Cree for this! He blamed her for everything! Starting with the obsession he’d developed with her over the last year and ending with the fact that he often times had the urge to just lick her face when she was in his presence. Unfortunately, he’d tried that once and it ended with him waking up in a dumpster…naked. He had no interest in repeating the experience seeing as how he couldn’t get the smell of cabbage out of his hair for a week afterwards.

  Their relationship was a complicated one. Maddox spent the majority of his time outside of work attempting to see her sans clothing while pleading the case of why she should make herself comfortable on his naughty parts. Cree, however, spent the majority of her time outside of work attempting to scar his masculine beauty. Why she wou
ldn’t just give in and allow Maddox to make his face her permanent seat he didn’t know! The woman was difficult; all five feet and eleven inches of her rich red clay complected, svelte form.

  It had been officially 365 days, 8,760 hours and 45 minutes since he’d cast his first leer in her direction. After meeting his brother’s soon to be mate and one of the only people Cree said more than five words to, Maddox had assumed that the soft beauty with the shining topaz eyes and inky blue black locks would be a little less…frightening than Fallon Wilder. This had not been the case and it seemed as though she were doing her damndest to prove that she was literally the furthest thing from soft that any human being—supernatural or otherwise—could get.

  She needed to stop and simply bask in the glory of his attention because it was glorious dammit! It was the most glorious thing she’d ever experience and it would be nice if she started showing a bit more appreciation for said glory. It was incredibly rare that anything caught and held Maddox’s hard won interest but she had. Yet, she couldn’t seem to understand how grateful she should be.

  “Difficult female,” he murmured, eyes now on the slowly dawning sky. “You leave me with foreign yet welcome feelings in my nether regions and then abandon me.”

  This wasn’t how things were supposed to work. Women didn’t just look past Maddox as though he were invisible. They vied for his recognition, desired his affection and often times fought for the opportunity to indulge in the wonder that was his groin power. But not Cree. No, Cree avoided him, hid from him and threatened his life on a day to day basis.

  Any other male would’ve taken that as a sign that he needed to move on elsewhere. It was a good thing that Maddox wasn’t any other male. The very challenge that threaded through her persona wasn’t lost on him. He didn’t want her to submit to him simply because of his own lust, he wanted her to submit because just standing in the same room with her eased the feeling of loneliness that often times bottomed out in his gut.

  Watching Ransom and Fallon develop an all-consuming love for one another put a greed in Maddox that wouldn’t be quieted. He wanted something akin to what they had; without the near death experiences of course. He wanted someone to look at him like he was the answer to every question they’d ever had. He wanted to give that stare in return. He wanted Cree to be the recipient of said stare if she would just. Stay. Still.

  She-devil, he thought darkly as he jammed his hands into his front pockets. Maddox didn’t understand what it was about this woman in particular that left him with all these…these…feelings. But he was annoyed by them and as far as he was concerned, he reserved the right to express said annoyance while plundering into the depths of Cree’s perfect, perfect form.

  “Why,” a sotto voice queried just behind him. “Are you following me?”

  The scream of bloody murder that left him in a pitch so high that birds abandoned their nests, was not in the least bit something to be proud of. As a matter of fact, the moment he stopped hollering like a startled child who’d been shoved into a prison cell full of clowns, Maddox felt shame like nothing else embed into his soul. God he was pathetic.

  He cleared his throat a few times then coughed. “What…wh-where did you come from?”

  Dark brows rose over eyes that were expressionless unless Cree wanted to show emotion. Her full bow shaped mouth twitched, the pink fleshy tones momentarily catching his attention. “Hell,” she answered in the deadpan voice that she often used while trying to disturb others.

  “Right.” Maddox rocked back on his heels and exhaled. “So…lovely morning eh?”

  “I’m going to ask you again and hopefully the words manage to penetrate the thickness of your skull,” Cree stated before leaning forward and slowly questioning, “Why are you following me?”

  He snorted. “You—my incredibly gorgeous friend—are also incredibly narcissistic. Who says I was following you? Perhaps I was interested in taking a walk. Perhaps I wanted to—ow, ow, ow, that’s my nose! That is my nose!”

  “One time Maddox and one time only—go. Away.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I’m sensing a lot of hostility and frustration. Would you like me to help work this out with an early morning orgasm or—okay, that’s really starting to hurt.”

  Cree let go. “What do you want?”

  Maddox quirked a brow. “I don’t think you really want the answer to that, beautiful. It consists of words that would make all those pretty rouge undertones in your skin all the more apparent.”

  She sighed. It was one of the sighs that alerted him to when she was about to lose what little bit of sanity she’d had stored up for the day. “I try with you, I really do. But you make it so hard.”

  Blinking, he waved a hand to his crotch. “On this we can relate. Oh look at that, there’re those rogue undertones…”

  With a snarl, she hooked her thumb over her shoulder. “Go.”

  He peered at her. “Why do you come all the way out here alone every morning?” Maddox angled towards her. “Is this the witching hour for you?”

  She gave him a sharp smile. “Why, yes, yes it is and it usually consists of sacrifices. Would you like to volunteer?”

  “Do I have to be a virgin? Because that would most definitely be a problem.” Maddox leered. “Unless of course we’re discussing sex magic. Making you call out to the gods at the risk of giving myself a herniated disc is a chance I’m willing to take.”

  Cree rubbed her temples. “Maddox. Please.”

  Her expression told him that he’d pushed enough and if he didn’t stop, she’d start pushing back but this time it wouldn’t be physically.

  He sniffed. “Fine.” Waving a hand around, he said, “This trail is boring anyway. And tedious. My calves deserve much better.”

  She rolled her eyes and he turned his back on her, calling out, “Take a good look at this ass as it moves about in fluid, lust inspiring motions! You shall not be seeing it again anytime soon as I am thoroughly offended by not only your arrogant assumptions but your refusal to at least kiss me in proper greeting!”

  “Ri-fucking-diculous,” Cree muttered.

  “I could be fucking you but you’re too busy messing about with your weird ritualistic visits to the forest in between acting as though I don’t make you nipples go ‘Ten-hut!’ on a daily basis.”

  If he didn’t know any better, he’d swear he’d heard a snort of genuine laughter but when he turned around, Cree was gone.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” Maddox quietly greeted in her absence. He missed her ever-changing scent and the way the sun sometimes made her hair appear as though it were purple already.

  With a deep inhale, he made his way back to the main cabins of Wilder Lodge, a vacation resort designed specifically for shifters. It was the source of exactly why and how Maddox had found himself here. Fallon Wilder, alpha of Glenwood Springs ‘mighty Wilder arctic wolves, owned the getaway and happened to be the one who’d tamed his older, much less handsome—if Maddox were telling the story—brother.

  Last summer when Ransom McKenna became enamored with the snappish, ridiculously strong she-wolf, he’d drug Maddox along for the ride and through a series of events, they’d made Colorado their new home. This was something that came as a surprise to anyone who knew Ransom. Particularly because the bear had been nomadic in his tendencies from the time he was old enough to travel alone. As the CEO of a real estate development company that catered to the supernatural community in particular, Ransom had never been known to stay in one place for very long and yet, here they were. All it took was one sight of Fallon’s pretty face in a magazine and he’d stumbled right into loving her.

  There were some days where Maddox questioned how things could escalate so quickly between two people as he watched the couple and then he’d catch Cree in his line of vision, immediately understanding.

  Maddox crossed back over towards the cabins and made his way past shops and restaurants, waving at the employees who were beginning to start their days. He’d
just passed the dinner hall when a very familiar looking wolf, fully shifted, shot past him.

  The sound of heavy footfalls followed. “Goddammit Fal! We agreed to hunting after six a.m. This is morning snuggle time!”

  He stopped and looked on as his brother took off after her. Both disappeared behind bushes but soon Ransom re-emerged, shirtless with a wiggling, half-dressed Fallon pounding on his shoulders. “Let me go! I never agreed to morning snuggle time! I need to hunt! I need to be free!”

  “What you need is an hour bound to the headboard! You’re being ridiculous! The only reason you’re running is because I mentioned an actual wedding,” Ransom growled.

  “You’ll never make me do it! Never!”

  Maddox’s brother rolled his eyes and then caught sight of him. “Morning, little brother.”

  He nodded. “Morning, big brother. Need some help?”

  “Nah,” Ransom readjusted Fallon on his shoulder. “This one is antsy because the idea of a gown and formal seating makes her nervous.”

  “Ahh,” Maddox breathed. “The wee one has cold feet.”

  “The wee one,” Fallon snarled. “Is right here and can hear you!”

  “Quiet, canine!” Ransom barked. He accompanied this by a lovely slap on the ass. That was followed by several threats from his mate and Maddox regarded the pair as they headed back to the other side of the lodge.

  “Oh, Cree,” he sighed. “That could be us. That could be us…”

  ***

  “Insane, pretty bastard,” Cree murmured to herself as Maddox officially disappeared. The moment his scent trail faded she swung down from the branch she’d been resting on and hit the ground, hunching over when another spasm shook her.

  He really needed to stop that; the charming. Particularly because it would get literally nowhere with her. It wasn’t him. Cree was just…well Cree. She had absolutely no interest in the multitude of promises his eyes held when he looked at her. As far as she was concerned he’d break every last one when he realized who he’d given them to; who he’d been pursuing—someone totally incapable of reciprocating.