Chance: Mating Fever (Bears of Kodiak Book 1)

by Selene Charles

  They laughed.

  Chapter 7

  Bronwyn

  It had taken Chance all of that day to fix the extensive damage done to their cabin door. He’d piled mounds of furs on Bronwyn to help keep her temperature at a balmy ninety degrees.

  They’d barely moved from the bed in the week and a half since she’d come back to him.

  She was three times as large as she’d been when she’d first made the journey to find her bear. In less than a week’s time, they would be welcoming their tiny new cub into the world.

  “Do you wish food?” he asked, running his fingers along her naked belly.

  She laughed when their child kicked at his palm. His eyes widened, and a grin of delight spread across his gorgeous features.

  No matter how many times he felt their child, Chance always marveled at the touch of it as though it were the first. “He’s strong.”

  She snorted, brushing his palm off. “He could be a she. And then what will you do, Chance?”

  His nostrils flared. “Then I’ll kill any male stupid enough to try and take her from us.”

  “You mean the way you took me from my peoples?” Her words sparkled with laughter.

  She was happy. Blissful, really. Every night, they made love by the gentle glow of a campfire. And in the days since she had arrived, they’d taken the time to learn each other, not just physically but spiritually, in a way that mattered. They focused on learning all the intricate little nuances of what it meant to be with each other.

  Already, she felt like she’d known him his whole life.

  Chance was a rapscallion with a devilish streak a mile long. But he adored her. If she wanted for anything, he was always there, anticipating her every move. If she needed to go to the privy, if she mentioned wanting food, if she said anything, he was there.

  He poked her in the ribs. “Totally different, and you know it.”

  She slapped his hand, hard, and gave him a grr for emphasis.

  “Little bird’s got teeth. Hot,” he said with a cocky half-grin and a wink before swooping in and stealing another heart-stopping kiss.

  His kisses turned her into a puddle of mush. She might be as round as a giant boulder at the moment, but she had never felt sexier.

  “You. You,” she stuttered in between kisses.

  “Yes?” he asked with a brow lift.

  Gods, he was gorgeous. And sometimes that was so annoying, like now when his hands were sliding all over her highly sensitive skin, making her pant and moan like a B-rated porn star.

  “You were saying something?” He taunted her yet again as he moved that hand south, slipping it between her thighs to her slick, wet folds.

  She gasped when he pressed his thumb in hard, circular motions against her engorged clitoris. Shots of pleasure rocked through her core, spiraling in tight waves throughout her body.

  “I can’t hear you, little bird,” he mumbled as he moved down her body, kissing a hot trail across her clavicle, then down her stomach. He took a moment to savor the sweetness of her navel before dipping down to his final destination.

  She cried out when his hands latched onto her knees and spread her thighs wide, exposing her engorged, swollen nub to his greedy gaze.

  Chance stared at her as though entranced. While she found it stimulating to be the object of such scrutiny, she was also desperate for him to get on with things.

  Lifting her hips, she moaned. “Do me now, bear, or I swear to the gods, I’ll—”

  But then her words died on her tongue the moment his mouth, hot, wet, and greedy, landed on her. He sucked and nibbled, moaning and groaning in the back of his throat as he feasted on her.

  Dizzy with rapture, she clawed at his skull, jamming him tighter between her thighs if he so much as hinted at coming up for air.

  “Breathe later,” she hissed when he once again tried to rise up.

  His booming peal of laughter vibrated her clit deliciously, making a bolt of liquid fire zip down her spine.

  “Suffocation by cunnilingus. Is that to be the way I go then, crow?” His words sparkled with laughter.

  She was mindless with delirium and could only grunt, shoving him right back down where he belonged. His tongue was like velvet and steel, hard and soft, and… “Perfect. Dear gods, grizzly, you’re perfect.”

  With a growl of approval, he speed up what he was doing, adding his thumb into the mix. That was her undoing. Screaming, she spasmed mightily as he wrung every drop of pleasure out of her.

  It felt like hours before she was able to manage a breath that didn’t stutter through her lungs. When she opened her eyes, it was to look into her male’s very satisfied ones. The heat in his gaze hadn’t dimmed in the slightest.

  And though she’d just had one of the most powerful orgasms of her life, the look he gave her was enough to the stirrings of heat slither and slink through her lower body once more.

  Nuzzling the corner of her neck, Chance wrapped his legs around hers, basically pinning her to the bed. But she didn’t mind. His touch, while dominant, was also gentle and tender. He kept his weight off her middle, even lightly feathering his fingers along her tummy now and then as though in greeting to their child.

  “Bronwyn,” he murmured as something hot, hard, and long poked into her upper thigh.

  “Lover,” she murmured, laving her tongue along the length of his left collarbone, breaking him out in a wash of goose bumps.

  Groaning, he rubbed his engorged cock on her thigh, and she sighed at the dichotomous play of hard steel and softest velvet. Wrapping her legs around his middle, she shifted so that she was fully open to him.

  Chance kept all his weight on his hands as he slid his cock deep into her wet sheath.

  They both sighed in unison at the moment of penetration. He filled her so completely. While it was wonderful, it was also a little uncomfortable with her stomach being so swollen between them.

  In a move born of expertise, he slid out, and in one smooth motion, flipped her onto her side. He held onto her thigh and placed it on his shoulder then scooted flush in flush so that his penis and her vagina lay flush. His slick cock once more slid into her, and this time she cried out from the deep penetration. Her toes curled with each thrust of his hips.

  Sometimes, Bronwyn couldn’t believe this was really happening. Even after nights spent making love with Chance, it didn’t seem possible that she had everything she’d never known she’d wanted.

  A gorgeous male adored her. A child—their child—grew in her belly, and she had the freedom to choose which life to live.

  “Don’t ever leave me, bird,” he whispered, as though he’d read her thoughts… and maybe he had.

  They were connected on such a spiritual plane now, two hearts beating as one.

  She smiled tremulously as her body began that tight, hard, spiraling climb back to the pinnacle of pleasure.

  It was hard to keep her eyes open, but she wanted to watch him as he came, and she wanted him to see her when she came too.

  Their eyes held fast as they slipped into that little death together.

  “Never, Chance. I’ll never leave you,” she whispered right before sinking into the oblivion of release.

  Bronwyn was a boneless heap when he’d finished with her, but she wasn’t the only one breathing heavy. She’d given as good as she’d gotten.

  Chance roared with laughter as he wrapped his arm tightly around her, hugging her to his body. “Gods, you’re amazing, little bird.”

  “So you’re saying you’ll keep me?”

  Pulling back and resting his weight on one elbow, he gave her the type of look that made her heart stutter. “You’re mine, always, Bronwyn Crow.” His fingers trailed down the corner of her jaw, his thumb rubbing along her bottom lip in a feathery touch. His touch wasn’t one of sexual prowess, but something far deeper and richer.

  Lowering his head, he moved his lips against hers as he whispered, “And I’m yours, little bird. Every part of me, every inch o
f me, all yours. I’m so lost in you, it’s not even funny.”

  Tears pricked her eyes as she gave him a soft smile, framing his beloved face with her hands. “I knew the day I saw you, you’d be mine, Chance. Even when you threw that damn twig at me.”

  He snorted with laughter. “You ever plan to let me forget that?”

  “Nope.” She smirked, popping his lips with a hard, possessive kiss of her own. “Not ever.”

  Chapter 8

  Chance

  “Breathe.” He rubbed her arms as she pressed against him, screaming from the back of her throat as she pushed.

  Bronwyn had gone into labor early the next morning.

  He’d tried to go for help, but she’d held him in an astonishingly strong grip as she gritted out, “No. You are all I’ll need to get through this.”

  Three hours later, Chance knew their child was about to make its way into the world.

  For days, they’d made his small cabin their home, just the two of them, hidden away from any and all prying eyes. Now they were minutes away from welcoming their child, a new life, into their home.

  Chance still hadn’t heard from his brothers, and though he sometimes wondered what had come of Phoenix, he didn’t worry. His brothers were no doubt knee-deep in their own relationship dramas.

  Bronwyn’s nails dug into his palm as she screeched, her knees trembling on the mattress as she bore down through another powerful contraction.

  “Chance!” she screamed. “The child comes.”

  He’d thought himself ready for his child’s arrival. For days, they had talked of nothing but the baby. He was no doctor. But Breed were sturdy folks, and Bronwyn was a healthy female. Everything should have gone smoothly.

  But she was gasping so hard, and tears of blood were leaking from the corners of her eyes as she grunted. Her neck was extended, and veins bulged against her lily-white flesh.

  “Bron?” he asked as she clutched tightly to his hand, bearing down with a mighty push as her stomach contracted almost violently.

  A few seconds later, she released a scream so primeval and elemental that it caused all the hairs on his head to stand on edge.

  Something was definitely wrong.

  The next second, the door was tossed open, letting in a blast of cool air.

  “No!” she screamed, panting between grunts. “Close the door. Keep it hot in here. Keep it hot, Chance.”

  Thinking maybe it had just been the wind banging the door open, he started to stand up but stilled the moment he caught sight of the middle-aged, but very well-preserved crow shifter standing in the doorway.

  Her hair was thick and full and black with silvery veins of white throughout. Her eyes were the deepest black of twilight and studded with the same silvery dots as Bronwyn’s.

  Dressed in a sheath of ink-colored silk, she stepped inside his cabin with the grace and manners of nobility.

  The woman, who could only be Bronwyn’s mother Annalida, shut the door behind her, sealing in the heat.

  Like a flash, several thoughts rolled through Chance’s head at once. The crow had broken faith by standing on grizzly territory. She may have still wanted to steal his Bron from him. And last, but definitely not least, he was beyond relieved to see her. They needed help. Something was wrong with Bron, and if anyone could fix it, he prayed her mother could.

  “What have you done to my daughter?” she asked with a thread of violence shading her words.

  Bronwyn, who’d just suffered through another powerful contraction, tossed out her arm. “Mom, Mother, please. Help me. Something’s wrong with the cub.”

  The woman swallowed hard, and Chance couldn’t help but band his arms tightly around Bron’s shoulder. He knew this could only go two ways. Annalida would either leave her daughter to suffer in silence or set aside her anger and help. As though she wasn’t sure which path to take yet, she took a hesitant step forward.

  Bronwyn, who was coated in a fine sheet of sweat and blood, suddenly curled in on herself, screaming as her legs dropped wide onto the bed. “Chance!” She clawed at his hand.

  That’s when her mother finally found her wings. She raced for the bed, gripped Chance by his collar, and jerked him away from Bronwyn.

  He started to protest, ready to change into his bear and defy her to take his woman from him, but she shook her head hard. “If you wish for Bronwyn to survive this, then you must listen to me well,” she snapped, releasing him instantly and rolling her sleeves up. “She’s chosen to birth a cub, meaning the child will be far bigger than what our bodies typically can handle. She’ll need to ingest the root of the alderberry plant to strengthen her body for what’s to come.”

  He looked down at Bronwyn, his heart and brain moving in different directions. His heart said this was a trick. It had to be. After all this time, Bron’s mother suddenly found them. Until the child was born a cub, she could by right take his woman away.

  His brain however roared that Bron was not well at all. Her skin was even more pale, a ghastly bluish-gray hue. More blood than sweat covered her body. Clenching his molars, he was torn between duty and desire.

  “Go!” Annalida snapped at him. “Go now, Chance, before it’s too late.”

  Bron arched her spine, clutching onto the blanket with her claws as she kicked out in desperation.

  “Bron, relax, my heart,” Annalida crooned, rubbing her daughter’s forehead with the back of her hand.

  And that was what finally convinced him to go. No matter what they’d done, no matter that Bron had chosen to leave her nest for his den, Annalida clearly still loved her daughter.

  “Gods help you if you’re lying to me, crow,” he bit out, then turned on his heel, ran for the door, and set out to the stretch of forest that he knew held several alderberry plants.

  Chance made quick work of digging up the plant. As a bear, it was nothing to tear the thick roots up from the ground. Clutching his prize tightly in his mouth, he ran for home, praying to the Gods that his woman was all right.

  In mere minutes, he returned to her side. Annalida had gotten a pot of water to boil and was now wiping her daughter’s brows down.

  “You’ve the root?” she asked quickly.

  “Yes.” He stretched out his arm, handing it to her.

  No thank you’s were exchanged. Annalida snatched it out of his hand, broke the thick, woodsy wedge into four pieces, and dropped it—dirt and all—into the pot of heated water.

  Immediately, it turned a murky, brownish-green color. After ladeling the tea into a small bowl, she turned and held the rim of it to her daughter’s mouth. “Drink, my love. This will help ease the cub’s journey and give you rest.”

  Bronwyn was weak as she cupped her mother’s hand with her own and tipped the bowl up to her mouth.

  Chance nodded at her when her eyes found his. Her gaze was weak with fatigue, and his heart clenched. He wondered if they’d done wrong after all. What would it matter, any of this, if he lost her in the end?

  How could he take care of a child on his own? The answer was, he would never want to. He’d done all of this for Bronwyn alone, not some mysterious-faced infant that meant nothing at all to him, at least not in the way its mother did.

  Once Bronwyn finished drinking all of the tea, she released a heavy sigh. The effects of the root were immediate. Her shoulders relaxed, and she almost fell back onto the bed unconscious.

  He jumped for her, grabbing hold of her shoulders and settling her gently back down onto the pillows. “What have you done?” he snapped, fearing the worst.

  But Annalida hissed, “You stole my daughter from me so you think me capable of such cruelty. But Bronwyn is the very

  beat of my heart. I would never harm her or the child. This tea does exactly as I claimed it would.”

  Ashamed of his reaction, but still needing the reassurance that Bron would survive, Chance wiggled himself back in behind her body, gripping her tightly. She was dead weight in his arms, but her breathing was even, and the b
loody sweat appeared to be slowing down.

  The sense of pending doom slowly gave way to a heightened anticipation of what was still to come. He brushed his fingers through her hair. The silence of the room was deafening as he glanced over at Annalida, who was looking right back at him.

  “She must truly love you to have chosen as she has,” she finally said with grim acceptance in her words. As she spoke, she gently massaged Bron’s belly as though manipulating the child’s position from the outside. “Treat her well, grizzly, or I shall descend upon you with a murder of crows so deadly, they’ll make the devil himself look benevolent by comparison.”

  He wasn’t sure what she was saying, but he dared not hope too strongly. “You won’t try to take her from me?”

  Annalida shrugged and shook her head. “Were it still in my power, I would certainly try. But this child is not one of our own. I could take Bronwyn back, but we could never accept her offspring within our nest.”

  He hugged his woman tightly, shaking his head. “She would never leave our child.”

  She nodded. “Aye. This, I know. No, her choice has been made. And all I can do now is accept their fate.”

  “Then why come at all?” he asked. “If you knew where we were, why not come sooner?”

  He suspected the timing of her arrival hadn’t been coincidental at all. The queen had known all along where to find them, so why wait until there was no hope of altering Bron’s choice?

  She sighed, staring at her daughter lovingly. “Because once, long ago, if I had the option, I’d have done the same. I’m no monster, grizzly. I’m a queen, and as such, I have duties to fulfill as do my princesses, but Bron was in a position I never was. She has a sister, a sister who does not mind the mantleship of nobility the way Bronwyn always has. I only wish her well. And the child.”

  There was suddenly a loud cry, and every cell in Chance’s body froze as he looked down at the wee child that had suddenly appeared.

  Annalida’s smile was effervescent with joy. “It’s a girl, bear. You’ve given me a granddaughter.”