Found: True Mates Book 0.5 (BBW Wolf Shifter Romance) (A Craggstone Paranormal Romance)
Page 1
Contents
Title Page
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
Found
True Mates Book 0.5 - The Prequel (Short Novella)
A Craggstone Paranormal Romance
By
Olivia Arran
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Copyright © 2015 Olivia Arran
All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.
Published by Arran Publishing
Cover Design by Resplendent Media
Editing by S.A.M Author Services
CHAPTER ONE
Claire
How much longer could I keep going?
My lungs burned from gulping in the frigid air, my paws skittering on sheets of ice, as my claws desperately tried to dig in and find a grip. Low hanging branches whipped my face and snout, scoring blood and leaving welts in their wake. Not much longer, I admitted to myself, my adrenalin already failing, my legs shaking from exertion.
Had I lost them? I’d been running for miles, racing through this unfamiliar forest, their snarls and howls urging me on, faster and faster. But I hadn’t heard anything…not for the last half mile, or so. Maybe I had? I was built for speed, after all. All long limbs and small, wiry body — at least, I was in wolf form. In human form I was built more for comfort, and any possible exertion was met with the question of did I really need the pecan-butter ice-cream from the store, or could I live without it, and stay curled up on my couch.
I skidded to a halt next to a fallen tree trunk. Skirting round the obstacle as quietly as possible, my footfalls were absorbed by the crisp, white snow, and I listened intently, crouching down in its shadow.
Shit, that hurt! My left flank screamed in protest, the pain shooting up my back and crashing into my skull. Slowly, I stretched the injured leg out, curling around to inspect the wound. My tongue darted out, giving it a cautionary lick. It was deep, dammit! Shuddering, I ground my teeth against the need to howl in agony.
Still nothing. Either they were circling me…right now, or I had lost them. I sent a quick prayer to the Mother of All. Please, please let me live through this. I don’t want to die here — all alone with no-one to mourn me. I haven’t had the chance to experience life yet…and really live. There are so many things I want to do…I wanted to love with all my heart and soul. To find my mate…and to be free of those who hunted me. But I was losing hope, and did I even deserve to be happy? I asked myself that every night, as the sun set in the sky, and I curled up in whatever bed or floor I had found, alone again.
I shook my head, trying to clear the fogginess that threatened to pull me under. I would not die out here — not now, not ever. Gathering the last of my strength, I struggled to stand, glancing at the sky. The sun was now in its descent — night was coming, and it would only get colder. I had to find shelter...now.
Taking a deep breath, I sniffed the air, searching for any sign of danger, for my attackers. But the air only smelled of freshness, the crisp scent of snow and fir. And blood. The surrounding snow was saturated, a garish crimson circle spreading out staining the bright white. I had to shift, to try and stem the bleeding. Fuck, things were going to get excruciatingly cold.
Calling the shift to me, I gritted my teeth as my bones snapped and remolded, stretching and elongating — causing my wound to burn like acid. My fur coat receded, leaving tanned skin, which was immediately coated in goosebumps, the suckers popping up at an alarming rate. The healthy tan rapidly started to turn a sorry looking blue, as my teeth started to chatter, like one of those windup toys, threatening to cut out my tongue and dislocate my jaw. Shoving my discomfort to the back of my mind, I craned my neck around, trying to inspect the slashes on my left buttock. Ugly, claw marks marked my skin, the gashes deeper than I had thought, still oozing blood in a steady stream — even after the shift had worked some of its healing mojo. Shit. I would have to shift again…and fast.
My head swam, eyes blurring as everything faded in and out of focus. Too much blood! Must shift! I pulled the shift to me, throwing all my strength behind it.
Help me! I screamed to my wolf, as she moved sluggishly toward the surface, her fangs bared in determination.
Then a blackness swept over me, pushing her away. And I started to fall, my scream breaking the silence of frozen forest.
Then…nothing.
***
Adam
Wiping the last of the suds from a plate, I stacked it back in the cupboard, and closed the door. The repetitive task had proved to be therapeutic, allowing the last bits of stress and worry from real life to fade away. I glanced around the sparse room, looking for inspiration. What the hell was I was meant to do now? Read? Sleep? Think? All things that I didn’t have time for at home, but now given the chance…I didn’t know what to do with myself. I should be enjoying the peace and quiet, damn it. Escaping from pack life, just for a couple of days was the only thing that kept me sane, allowing me to carry out my duties, and put up with all the different kinds of bullshit that came with being the Alpha. So why, this time, couldn’t I just relax?
I knew why. In less than 24 hours I had to go back…and they would want an answer. I was only just entering my fortieth winter, yet the uprising had started, demanding that I take a mate — any mate — and produce an heir. I smacked my hand down hard on a wooden table. I just needed more time, maybe another winter…or two — she was still out there, I was sure of it! My true mate was not fucking dead. I couldn’t — no, I wouldn’t believe it.
She is not… my wolf growled in my head.
I felt like the walls were trying to close in on me, trapping me, pinning me down. I needed to get outside, to run and hunt. Tugging my t-shirt over my head, I strode to the door, flinging it open, and took a deep, lung cleansing breath. The pale, snow clad sky dazzled me for a moment, reflecting off the wintry blanket that cocooned my beloved forest. It was a sight for sore eyes, one I never grew tired of.
“Let’s run,” I said, giving my wolf a nudge inside my head. No one came out this far, this deep into the wild. We could run and play, no need to hide or be careful. “If only—”
A shrill scream pierced the quiet, anguished and in pain. My head spun to the right. Not too far away. What kind of idiot traipsed around a forest in this weather, and at this time of day. The sun was fading quickly, dusk on its heels. Soon the temperature would plummet, freezing the snow into ice.
“The kind of idiot that’s lucky to have me around,” I muttered, f
linging myself down the steps in the direction of the scream.
Arms pumping, I ran flat out — or rather, waded in several places — through the snow, bitterly wishing I had remembered to put a jacket on, or at least my t-shirt. A wolf’s coat sure handled the cold better than human skin, I thought, my teeth grinding against the cold.
It had been a woman’s scream, I was sure of it. Now where was she? And what was she doing all the way out here? I sniffed the crisp air, opening my senses wide. A faint smell of cinnamon whispered through the air, carrying with it the scent of fur…and the tang of blood. A female wolf — a shifter. Injured.
I doubled my speed, dodging around tall fir trees, following the scent.
Here. She was here…somewhere? I rocked to a halt, blood thundering through my veins, my whole body tense — searching for her. Scanning the area my gaze snagged on a fallen tree…and the paw prints leading up to it. Deep and jagged, they had obviously been made in a hurry.
I listened intently. There — a slow, sluggish heartbeat. Faint but still pumping. Lurching forward, I dodged around the tree, half afraid of what I would find.
A woman lay sprawled in the snow, as naked as the day she was born. Her skin was pale, tinted an unhealthy blue, and her cushion of snow had been stained a garish red.
Damn, she was beautiful! The thought flashed through my mind, completely inappropriate but gut wrenching in its fervor. Every protective instinct I possessed roared to the surface, demanding that I care for her, protect her…and possess her.
Where the hell had that come from?
Leaning down, I carefully gathered her into my arms, her body small and soft, and hugged her tight against my chest. Fuck, she was cold, her skin freezing where it touched mine. I brushed a tangle of long, dark hair away from her face, staring in wonder at the plump cheeks and generous lips that were revealed.
Mine… my wolf growled, pawing at my skin, demanding that I taste her.
For a split second my mouth hovered over hers, his demands urging on my own, then I froze.
I am not an animal, to take advantage of an unconscious woman! I shoved my wolf back down inside, and securing my precious cargo in my arms, turned and sprinted as fast as I could back to my cabin.
There would be plenty of time to taste.
A steady trail of blood dripped down my arms, marking my path through the forest. I sent a prayer to the Mother of All. Damn it — there had to be…
CHAPTER TWO
Adam
Throwing open the door, I strode across the small room, snagging a blanket off the back of the couch on my way to the fire. Embers still glowed in the hearth, flickering and sparking with gentle warmth. I carefully laid the mysterious woman down on the thick wool rug, as near to the heat as I dared — she was frozen to the bone.
She didn’t move, not even a flicker of her long dark lashes.
I took a small, delicate hand in my own bigger ones, and started rubbing vigorously, watching as the sluggish circulation started to revive, the pinkness of health returning. My gaze wandered, tracking her skin, snagging and stumbling over her voluptuous curves.
Water. Bowl. Cloths. Rapidly draping the blanket over her luscious body — damn it, now was not the time to ogle — I darted over to the kitchen part of the room, grabbing what I needed. She was going to make it. She had to. I had the strangest feeling…
Carefully balancing the bowl of hot water and cloths, I crouched down next to her, and gently wiped a smear of blood from her face.
“Who are you?” I wondered aloud. “And what happened to you in the forest?” My questions fell on deaf ears, the only sign of life the jagged rise and fall of her chest, as she stubbornly clung onto life.
“Keep fighting, sweetheart. I have a feeling that you are very important to me. Extremely important…” I whispered, wiping away a little more blood. Where was it coming from? With light fingers I felt her scalp, my hand coming away sticky with blood. A head wound. Shit.
“Don’t worry, I’ll fix you right up,” I muttered, reaching for a clean strip of cloth. Tilting her head, I wound the fabric around, pulling it tight, all the while watching her face for a reaction. Any reaction.
Still nothing.
What the hell was I supposed to do now? I wasn’t a healer, I was a fighter! My fists tightened in frustration, a growl of helplessness spilling from my throat.
A flicker. A gasp, the smallest sound — barely even a croak.
She’d heard me!
My wolf thrust to the surface, forcing another growl from my chest.
This time a faint moan.
She hears us… snarled my wolf, battering at my skin. She is our true mate…start the bond, we can save her…
What? My head reeled as my wolf growled in my head. She is? I had thought— I mean, I knew she was special, but…
Taste…
If it were true…and we could save her. I stared down at the injured woman, and for the first time I let myself look at every inch of her. Damn, she was perfect! Curved in all the right places, her skin — even smudged with blood and dirt — was tanned and smooth. My heart lodged in my throat even as my cock swelled, thick and hard in my jeans. Heavy breasts tipped with dusky pink nipples, a curved waist, and wide plump hips framing a mound of dark curls.
I swallowed hard — I had to know. Just a taste…
Leaning down, I stared at her face — willing her to open her eyes. To speak, so I could hear her voice… My eyes never leaving hers, I hovered, my breath heating her closed lips.
This was it. The moment of truth. Was she my true mate?
***
Claire
The barest whisper of a touch upon my lips, a caress lighting a fire deep inside my chest, urging me to fight through the fog that held me under — trapped inside my own body. Narrowing my focus to my lips, the feel of warmth an anchor in the dark, I willed my eyes to open.
Slowly forcing my heavy lids open, I struggled, fighting back the sleep that still beckoned and cajoled, and blinking furiously, my vision swam into focus.
Two strange eyes, hazel like the vast color of autumn leaves, stared back at me — so close that I could count the individual gold tipped lashes that framed them.
I gasped in confusion, flinching away, and burrowing deeper into the scratchy rug that I could feel hugging my skin. All my skin. Shit. I was naked. Why was I naked? And who was this person? A flood of adrenaline thundered through my veins, the fight or flight response screaming in my head, my limbs quivering with the need to respond. I had been running…so fast, and for so long, then…nothing? Who had I been running from? Why couldn’t I remember?
A low moan broke the silence. Mine? I wanted to run, but my arms, my legs — they felt like lead, quivering and shaking with weakness. Had I been drugged? I silently willed my legs to move, they twitched but refused to comply.
“Shhh, it’s okay. No need to be scared.” His voice rumbled, low and husky.
I had heard that voice before. In my dreams? I tried to open my mouth, to speak, maybe to scream?
“I’ll get you a drink. Don’t try to talk, just wait here.”
Wait here? I couldn’t go anywhere even if I wanted to! The man stood, towering over me, and the heat that had been burning into my skin was suddenly gone. Shivering, I stared up at him, watching as he hurried across the room.
From my viewpoint on the ground I assessed my captor, or was he my savior? He was wearing a pair of battered denim jeans, the top buttons undone, the fabric hanging from his hips. The rest of him was bare, allowing an uninterrupted, and glorious, view of smooth golden skin. Not overly broad, he had the body of a fighter, all sinuous strength packaged in ripples of muscle. His face was not overly handsome, his jaw wide and lips generous. A craggy face — pleasing enough to look at. It was his eyes that held me, that gorgeous kaleidescope of colors framed by thick lashes, made extra perfect by the laughter lines that marked their permanent place. I was a sucker for gorgeous eyes… This was a face that had li
ved. Thick coal black eyebrows, the same color as his buzz-cut hair, quirked at me, acknowledging my stare. Then with challenge burning in his eyes, he lazily raked his eyes up and down my body.
Flushing to my roots, I was unable to move as his gaze caressed me, slowly tracking over every naked inch, the heat in his gaze singeing in its intensity. My wolf strained inside me, pushing against my skin, wanting to reach out and rub herself against every available delectable inch. Why was she acting like this — like a bitch in heat? “Who are you? Why am I here?” I forced the words out, past the panic that was still bubbling inside me.
His eyes flicked to my face, holding my gaze prisoner. “I’m Adam…and I don’t know why you’re here, just that I’m glad that you are…”
His deep voice rolled over me, calming me — yet again. His voice was like a drug…“I—I don’t know…I don’t remember…it’s just — blank!”
He crouched down next to me, gently cradling my head and propping it up with a cushion. “It’ll come back, don’t force it. Do you remember your name?” He smoothed the hair back off my face, his touch lingering.
“Claire,” I said automatically. “It’s Claire Kendal!” A minor victory, but at least I had remembered that.
“So, Claire Kendal,” he grinned, a wicked smile that made me reassess my earlier assessment. He might not be classically handsome — hell, no, he had that rough and sexy bad-boy thing going on. His smile — like, whoa! Little tremors started in my belly, working their way down, then down further, until I was clenching my thighs together desperately staving off the urge to spread them wide. What the hell—?
“Smell me, Claire,” he whispered, “your wolf recognizes me…”
My eyes wide, I decided this must be some sort of dream. A great dream — nah, screw that — a fucking hot dream. I must be dying…
“Am I dying?” I croaked out, wondering if I should pinch myself. But then I might wake up. Best not, just in case.