I’m not sure I know enough about men to attempt to figure out what they’re thinking.
I left the room on the search for the delicious food. Dorian sat on his couch, drank some steaming beverage, and read a book. He looked comfortable and incredibly handsome. I’ve always enjoyed a man who reads.
“Good morning,” he said, his eyes not rising from the book. “Did you sleep okay?”
“I slept just fine, considering the circumstances,” I answered.
“You do look well-rested.”
“What do you mean by that?”
He gave a slight smile, “You look fresh and pretty. It’s a compliment.”
“Oh,” I blushed and quickly changed the subject. “Are you cooking food?”
“I am cooking. I went out and caught some grub.”
“Well, thank you, Dorian.”
“You’re quite welcome, Lorena.”
He stood and moved to the kitchen. He swept by me, enveloping me in his scent and his skin brushing on mine as he went by. He made me nervous, as most attractive men did.
Having him in such close proximity forced me to interact with him. Normally, I would separate myself from the situation to avoid getting too attached.
He’d made some kind of meat and eggs. I didn’t really want to ask what meat, so I just ate it without question. I hoped it wasn’t squirrel.
Whatever it was, it tasted wonderful. Being a college student, it’d been such time since I had a good home-cooked meal. In that, my mom was too busy doing her own thing to ever cook for me.
After breakfast, he asked if I’d like a book to read or if I’d like to do some art. He had paint supplies, as well as drawing pads and charcoals.
He explained that life in the woods could get boring, especially in the winter, so he liked to pursue the arts even though he “wasn’t any good.” I decided to read as that I didn’t want to reveal that I also wasn’t any good at art.
For a mountain man, he had an alarming amount of books. He seemed to appreciate the Modernists - Hemingway, Faulkner, Eliot, Woolf, etc. - as well as quite a lot of Mark Twain’s works. He even had books I didn’t recognize that looked to be simply ancient. I chose The Winter of Our Discontent by John Steinbeck. It sounded like a pretentious enough book to impress him, but may still be easy to read. I considered a Faulkner book, but I wasn’t in the mood to want to tear my hair out from the difficulty of it.
I sat next to him to read. He still read whatever book he happened to be reading. I tried to sneak a look, but he had the book folded over so he could read it easier. He looked up briefly as I tried to crane my neck to look.
“It’s On the Road,” he said. “I’m working on being a hipster since I already look like one.”
I laughed, “I guess the natural step in your book collection is to move on to Jack Kerouac.”
“That’s what I thought too. What are you reading?”
“I got a Steinbeck book.”
“Ah, good choice. I’ve inherited a lot of books from college students leaving them in the woods on hikes or picnics. Or, you know, whatever it is they do.”
“Party, probably.”
“That’s probably the right answer.”
We laughed and read in an amiable silence. Sitting with him, I forgot about all of my self-esteem issues. He didn’t seem at all concerned with the size of my hips or my weight in any way. With that, I didn’t feel him judging me for my curvy body.
As the days went on, we spent more and more time together. By sitting and reading with him, I became increasingly more comfortable. He had a kind air about him.
He also complimented me often on how beautiful I looked, even though I had to start wearing some of his clothes - or clothes he’d found - and hadn’t worn make-up for days.
He made sure I had every convenience he could acquire - he’d get water for me to take a bath and make sure it was hot, cook my meals, and make sure I was sleeping okay.
Though he admitted he spent most of his time alone, he didn’t seem anti-social or apathetic to my needs in any way. Even though we’d met through the most terrifying experience of my life, I felt like I lucked out, in a way.
Beyond him simply making sure I lived comfortably, Dorian also acted as though he became more attracted to me as the days went on.
If I turned at the right time, I’d catch him looking at me. He’d turn away quickly or act like he was looking at something else, like he was a grade school kid staring at his crush.
He’d also touch me whenever he got the chance, whether it be just brushing by or touching my arm to get my attention. Every time he did, I felt a tingling jolt run through my body. I’d been so afraid to interact with a man, but now that I had one in my general proximity, I craved his touch.
On the sixth day, I felt more courageous than I ever had. Through the days, I felt increasingly more connected to him. From when I woke up, he seemed even more affectionate toward her. When I entered the room, his eyes softened and he smiled wider.
We made excuses to be closer to each other - I had him select a book for me, he then had me help him try to understand a line in the book he read (while I scooted closer to him to read it with him), and we started doing a finger-painting art project together, for whatever reason.
At dinner time, I decided to cook with him, having him show me how to debone the fish he’d caught.
“I’m so impressed with how self-sufficient you are,” I said as I worked on the fish myself.
“Living out here does have its perks,” he answered.
“How did you learn how to do all this?”
“My dad was an avid outdoorsman, so he taught me how to do everything. I think when he died was when I decided to just… live on my own out here.”
“What about your mom?”
“She left us when I was a kid. My dad said she wasn’t really meant to be a mother.”
“My mom wasn’t really meant to be a mother either, but she stuck around.”
He smiled, “Right.”
I smiled back, meeting his eyes. We stood there for longer than was necessary, just smiling and staring into each other’s eyes. Slowly, he leaned forward.
I froze, not sure what to do and having no ability to push him away because my fingers were covered in fish. He came closer, so close I could feel his warm breath, and kissed me.
His scruff rubbed against my face, but it, somehow, felt nice and right. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and bring him closer, but the fish. We both smiled when he pulled away, still lost in each other’s eyes.
“I couldn’t help it,” he said softly. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for days.”
“So have I,” I answered. “Though, I do admit, it’s not as nice with fish on my hands.”
He laughed, “I’m sorry, I found you so sexy taking apart that fish.”
"I've heard that's an aphrodisiac, for sure."
He laughed, "I've heard that too."
We continued making dinner, talking and laughing as we did so. Something about him felt special, like I could enjoy being with him for the rest of my life. If you can read quietly with someone and still enjoy them, I'd say they are the one.
He set out a nice eating area for us, as if we were at a four-star restaurant. He put a lot of effort into making it feel romantic. And that, really, is the most romantic thing of all.
"I think my hunter friends should be back tomorrow," he said. "So, I guess this is our last night together."
"I guess it is."
"I know this hasn't been the greatest of circumstances, but I hope you've enjoyed yourself here. I've tried to make it comfortable."
"I have enjoyed myself. Thank you for helping me."
"Of course." He paused, his expression thoughtful. "I've enjoyed you being here. If I had it my way, I'd like you to stay."
"That would be nice, but I do want to let my friends and family know I'm okay."
"Yes, of course. I guess what I'd like to say is... I think I love you
."
I could feel my mouth hanging open in shock, but I answered with all I could think to say, "I think I love you too."
"Really?" he grinned.
"Yes, I think so. I was just thinking that a man you can read with and still enjoy is the kind you spend the rest of your life with." I mentally kicked myself. That's not something you say to someone you just met.
"I was thinking that too," he said with a serious look, and then grabbed my hand. "Lorena, when we get out of this, would you consider marrying me?"
My smile stretched across my face, "Yes, I would."
He smiled too, his eyes twinkling with happiness. We ate with a sense of euphoria - everything seeming completely perfect. We talked and laughed like a true couple in love, something I never thought would happen to me (especially after just six days.) After dinner, we cleaned up together, acting as though we were already married.
“I didn’t know if I would like the fish, but it was really good,” I said after we’d washed the dishes. “I normally don’t.”
“I used to not be very fond of fish either, but I like it more now that I’m catching and cooking it myself,” he responded.
“I did help you cook it, so…”
“Maybe that’s why it was so much better.”
“I think so.”
He walked forward and kissed me again, this time with more passion. I melted into his touch, willing to do whatever he wanted. As we kissed, our hands searched each other’s bodies, tracing maps along the expanse of our skin.
Without a word, we moved to his room, our lips not separating except to maneuver through the house. He led me to his bed, where he laid me down.
His lips touched every inch of my body, every curve, every imperfection. His breath made every inch of my skin tingle and radiate with desire. Before he slid inside me, he kissed me tenderly. He made my whole body feel warm and completely in ecstasy.
I never imagined anyone would be able to make me feel completely comfortable and happy in my own skin.
VI.
I woke up in the middle of the night alone - Dorian had disappeared. Had it been any other time, I would’ve just fallen back asleep, but with my kidnapper on the loose, I decided to find where he’d gone.
I got dressed and snuck out of the room, grabbing a heavy vase for protection, just in case. I noticed him exiting the front door just as I left his room.
With him telling me we couldn’t leave the house due to the danger of my kidnapper, I wondered why he would leave in the middle of the night. I decided to follow, wondering where he could be going. He didn’t seem to notice me behind him and kept walking into the forest. In a spot of moonlight, he stopped. I strayed behind, watching what he could be doing.
Suddenly, just like with my kidnapper, his figure transformed from a man to a bear. The blood in my veins froze. Before I realized it, a scream erupted from my voice box; in turn, the bear turned to look at where the noise had come from.
All I could think to do was run. They say you aren’t supposed to run from a wild animal, but it seemed like the best solution. I weaved and darted through the forest, running frantically as I had the week before.
This time, my vision was blinded by tears - I could barely see as I kept running. Dorian hadn’t told me that he too transformed into a bear. How could he do this to me?
Suddenly, I slammed into a warm human body. I felt manic, unable to handle talking and explaining to another person what had happened. I looked up, wiping my eyes, to try to say something to the person I’d run into.
“Well, it took a while, but I found you,” a male voice said.
In the light of the moon, I saw the face of my kidnapper, a wicked smile spread across his face. My lungs simply stopped - I’d fled my savior only to be captured again by my nightmare.
VII.
My kidnapper stood before me, appearing more intimidating and frightening than ever before. My mind erased - it seemed like my whole body had decided to just break down.
My limbs decided to go completely limp and my lungs had no desire to keep breathing, while the shards of my heart spread throughout my cold bloodstream. He came toward me, seemingly in slow motion.
I closed my eyes and hoped for sweet, merciful death. It would be preferable to this.
Suddenly, my kidnapper screamed. I opened my eyes and a bear was on top of him. It must be Dorian, I thought to myself as my crumpled heart started to drift back together. He’d come back to save me! But, then again, he also hadn’t told me that he too was a bear shifter. My kidnapper transformed into his bear form, and the fight began between them.
This is not where I want to be. Whoever wins might maul me because, well, isn’t that what bears do? Adrenaline woke my body up, and my feet took off running.
Without tears clouding my vision, my manic rush deeper into the woods at least had a (albeit probably misguided) direction. Dorian’s face kept playing through my mind - how could he do this to me? How could he keep something so big?
A twig snapped behind me. I turned to look, then ran into a solid object. I turned back to see a small Native American woman, who braced herself against a tree to keep herself from falling.
“Wow, where are you headed so fast?” the woman asked. “What are you even doing in the woods at this time of night?”
“I… I was kidnapped,” I answered. “I need to get home.”
“Oh no! Well, these woods are dangerous, especially right now. I wouldn’t even be out here if I didn’t hear a ruckus. Let me take you home, and I can help you. It’s not far. I’m Savannah, by the way.”
“Lorena,” I answered. I put my hand out to shake, but she turned to go. She must not have noticed.
I decided to follow. After everything, a woman should be able to understand all of my problems in this situation. She moved quickly, leading me to a small village filled with huts, which appeared to be hand built and sturdy. She moved to one of the larger huts and invited me in.
“You look absolutely exhausted,” she said. “What happened?”
“You’ll never believe it, but I was kidnapped by this bear shifter,” I said. “Then I was rescued by another bear shifter. He didn’t tell me he was one though. So I ran away from him too.”
“Oh, you poor girl. Bear shifters are incredibly ferocious creatures. I’m glad you made it out alive.”
“I am too. I… thought the man who saved me, Dorian, loved me. He told me he did, but he lied.”
“Bear shifters can’t love, sweetheart. They just want to claim women as their mates by sleeping with them. They are the worst versions of men.”
“What do you mean?”
“This Dorian probably convinced you to sleep with him, yes?”
I blushed and nodded, just barely. Since I have so little experience with men, it’s strange to discuss my sex life with someone else now.
“I’m sorry,” she put her hand on mine. “He only intended to have a one-night stand to claim you as his mate.”
I couldn’t think of anything to say. My heart again felt shattered within my chest. It all seemed to make sense when Savannah explained it.
That’s why Dorian had been so quick to confess his love for me - it was all a ruse to get me in bed with him. If I had more experience with men, I would have recognized his true intentions. He seemed so genuine though - he’d been so kind.
She patted me on the shoulder, “Just get some sleep, huh? You’re welcome to stay here until the morning, and then we can get you home. You poor, poor girl.”
I only nodded, sinking into the mat that was on the floor. It felt deceptively comfortable, but it didn’t matter if it had been uncomfortable - I felt completely low. Nothing mattered now. I’d fallen in love with a man who did exactly what I always feared. He never wanted to be with me at all.
I guess I know now that I can’t believe anyone. My naivety made me believe in the fairy tale, but fairy tales are just that: stories to make ourselves feel more special, but have no root in truth.
I woke up in the morning still feeling heartbroken, but ready for the whole ordeal to be over. Savannah’s voice talked softly outside with someone - perhaps someone to help me get home?
“She’s right in there,” she said. “Now, I think I deserve my reward for capturing her.”
Capturing me?
“Of course, I’ll give you just what we agreed upon,” the familiar voice of my kidnapper said coldly. “I appreciate your help with this.”
I looked around the hut manically. I need an escape route. I rushed to a window just big enough for me to fit through and attempted to get out. With my hips, it was a tight fit, but I managed to squirm out and land painfully on the ground.
I attempted to get up with some vigor, but my body simply didn’t have the energy to move very fast. My legs ached as I tried to run. I heard pounding footsteps behind me and tried to push myself.
Before I knew it, I had strong arms around me again, dragging me into the woods. I tried to scream, but nothing came out. It seemed my voicebox had given up, along with the rest of my body. My kidnapper has won.
VIII.
Instead of the shack he’d taken me to when he first kidnapped me, the man instead dragged me to a lavish mansion in the middle of the woods.
I fought against him, but he was just too strong. Deep in my heart, I knew I wouldn’t escape this time. Even if I could get away, what would it matter?
He threw me into a room and locked the door, promising he would return when he was “good and ready.” I sat on the immaculate bed in the center of the room and thought about my life so far. I wondered if anyone had even noticed I was gone.
My friends had been too wrapped up in their significant others to notice me at all, and my parents had died so long ago that it didn’t matter. Plus, my mom never really seemed incredibly interested in me when she was alive.
I’d let on to Dorian that I needed to contact my parents, but it was only to let him know someone was thinking of me. Even if no one was.
I always felt as a child that my father wanted a boy and that my mother didn’t want children at all. They appeared to like each other enough, maybe even love each other, but my mother sometimes said they married too soon after meeting each other - she’d wished my father had wanted to take it a little slower.
Romance: Bearilicious: BBW Paranormal Bear Shifter Romance Collection (Werebear, Bear Shifter, BBW Paranormal Romance) Page 15
