I Dream of Grizzly: A Werebear Shifter and Witch Romance (The Protectors Quick Bites Book 2)

by Keira Blackwood

  I Dream of Grizzly

  The Protectors Quick Bites Book Two

  Keira Blackwood

  Eva Knight

  Copyright © 2019 by Keira Blackwood & Eva Knight

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any actual persons, places, or events is coincidental. All characters in this story are at least 18 years of age or older.

  The cover utilizes stock images licensed by the author. The model(s) depicted have no connection to this work or any other work by the author.

  Edited by Liza Street

  PS brushes courtesy of Brusheezy.com.

  Introduction

  Quick Bites--stand alone stories you can devour in a flash. Expect short, steamy shifter romance, edge-of-your-seat action, scorching love scenes, and a happily ever after.

  As the daughter of a dream witch, Valerie has three tricks up her sleeve—even if she hasn’t mastered her powers yet.

  1. Count your fingers—if there aren’t ten, you aren’t awake.

  2. Magical objects can be used against you. Get smart and wield their power first.

  3. When all else fails, summon a guardian—make him a shifter, a beast of a man built to protect you, built to satisfy your every desire.

  But be careful, because it can get awkward when dreams and reality collide...especially if the dream guardian you’ve just stripped naked turns out to be real.

  Snag your free Protectors story, Revenge, exclusively available to Keira’s email list!

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Epilogue

  Also by Keira Blackwood

  A Taste of Can’t Prove Shift

  About Keira

  About Eva

  Chapter One

  Valerie

  The reflection looking back at me in the mirror wasn’t mine.

  Her face was a twisted version of the truth, one with slick black hair instead of my wavy brown. One without my pale green irises...one without irises at all.

  Since I’d climbed out of bed, it wasn’t just my reflection that was wrong, it was everything. The surfaces in my bathroom were dull and gray, just like the ones in my bedroom had been. It was as if I was viewing the world through a filter of dirty glass.

  My reflection winked at me.

  I flinched, but she didn’t. Instead, she pointed down.

  The drain stopper moved. And again.

  Something dark wiggled and squirmed, then slithered up into the sink.

  I took a step back and stared at the thin black snake that writhed in the white porcelain.

  Bile crept up my throat, and I knew.

  I knew what was happening. It was the same thing that happened every night. I hadn’t woken and walked to the bathroom. My body was still lying in my bed. This was only a dream.

  A nightmare.

  I looked at my hands to confirm. I had nine fingers, then eleven—definitely a dream.

  Every night was the same—false awakenings, true terror. But now I knew the truth—this was only a dream. And knowing was my advantage.

  The sink groaned and jostled, and the toilet gurgled as serpents rose up. Creatures of black and brown and green slithered over each other in a heap before cresting the brim of the bowl. Why did it always have to be snakes?

  As the first one fell to the tile floor, I darted out of the room and slammed the door behind me.

  Cold air filled my lungs as I sucked in a deep breath.

  Only one way out—down the stairs.

  I ran across the carpet to the bedroom door and threw it open. But instead of finding the hall, there was another closed door, and behind that, another.

  I slammed my fist against the hard oak and let out a sound of frustration. It was no good. I couldn’t escape that way—he wouldn’t let me.

  I leaned my back against the wall and looked up at the ceiling. Think. Think, dammit.

  Movement caught my eye, a snake wiggling its way out of the bathroom and through the thick fibers of the rug. They were coming. He was coming.

  I moved to the window and tore open the curtains. The yard below was three stories down. Searching for him, I scanned the landscape.

  Snakes. There were snakes everywhere—the grass was teeming with them. A writhing, slithering sea of serpents from which there was no escape. If I stayed, they’d reach me anyway. I took a step backward from the window and closed my eyes.

  This was only a dream. I had power here.

  Control was mine if I could only harness it. Power was in my blood. As the daughter of a dream witch, all I needed was to hold tight to lucidity. All I had to do was believe.

  This was only a dream.

  I opened my eyes and drew back my hand. The wall would shatter with my will.

  Using all of my strength, I struck the drywall beside the window with an open palm.

  Nothing happened.

  I turned my palm up. It wasn’t red, and it didn’t hurt.

  Only my ego was bruised, but honestly I hadn’t much believed my own pep-talk to begin with. I wasn’t a master of the dream world, but a passenger.

  With a deep breath, I put my hand on the wall and spread my fingers wide. The wall was cool and smooth. It felt real.

  I shook the thought and pulled back my hand. Focus.

  This time as my hand made contact, the wall gave. My fingers pressed into the drywall and small cracks flowed outward, growing longer and deeper into vast fissures.

  Encouraged, I pushed forward harder.

  The barrier shattered. Boards and chunks of drywall flew away into nothingness, into the pale haze of the dream.

  Standing on the ledge, I peered down to the ground.

  Snakes writhed throughout the grass in a blanket thicker than it had been moments before. Creepy-ass slithery things. No creature should be without legs.

  It was only a dream. There were no snakes.

  Eyes closed, I leapt from the edge and willed myself to fall as fast as I could. Cold air rushed across my bare arms and stung my face as my hair whipped behind me. My legs buckled as I landed, creating a shockwave that made the ground ripple like a pond. Serpents flew back, away and into the gray, sunless sky.

  That was it. That was where the dream was supposed to end.

  I stood alone in a field of dreary green, the air was still, the ground was bare.

  Why wasn’t I waking up?

  I willed my eyes to open, but nothing happened—I remained in the dream.

  Darkness fell, and night had suddenly overtaken the sky.

  A low rumble came from somewhere beyond my vision. I looked in that direction and saw a shape looming over the horizon, twisting its way toward me.

  I took off running, anywhere but here. I had to get away.

  The creature followed, somehow closing in, closer and closer still.

  I didn’t need to se
e it to know what it was—snakes, it had to be snakes.

  A dark shadow towered over me, a pillar of squirming, scaly flesh.

  Like a cool rope, smooth skin coiled up my calf.

  Don’t look.

  I ran harder, or I tried, until my legs refused to move.

  Snakes spiraled upward to my knees, to my thighs.

  No. Run.

  “Where is it, Buttercup?” The snakes spoke without sound, without words. They...no, he...he spoke into my head as he stood in front of me in the shape of a man, an eight-foot tall monster. That word repeated in my head—Buttercup. No one called me that, but somehow it still felt familiar. His grip tightened, squeezing so hard it hurt, squeezing so hard I couldn’t breathe.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I cried. “Let me go!”

  Snakes coiled around my waist, and the thing moved closer.

  No. Help me. Someone, anyone.

  The snake-man turned and loosened his grip.

  Thrashing, kicking, flailing, I fought with all my might.

  A deep growl rumbled through my chest, through the ground, through the dream.

  A large shape towered over the monster and crashed down onto his back with sharp claws. My vision blurred but I clung to hope, and I fought.

  Snakeman let go. I fell to the ground, finally able to breathe.

  He slithered away, and as he went, the world grew lighter.

  I looked up to see my savior, and watched in awe as the bear changed into a man. His fur disappeared, his body shrank, and then he rose to his feet as a human.

  Before me stood a man, big and bearded, and bare.

  I must have conjured a guardian, a protector to defend me from the monster. Apparently I’d imagined a giant of a man with dark hair and hazel eyes, with arms as thick as my head, with tanned skin and a chest of chiseled muscle.

  Apparently, my sleeping brain had damned fine taste.

  I looked down a little farther, to the quickly hardening cock between his legs. Damned fine, indeed. I hadn’t realized this would be that kind of dream, but hell yes please.

  The adrenaline of my fear morphed to something else, to excitement and desire.

  “Who are—” he started to say.

  I grabbed his neck and pulled his lips to mine, cutting off his words—warm, soft lips.

  His arms encased me, pulling me close.

  He tasted like mint as his tongue brushed over mine and he claimed my mouth.

  I willed my clothes away and climbed my naked hero like a tree.

  His eyes widened for a second, before he accepted the inevitability and tackled me to the ground.

  The grass tickled my shoulders as his rough hands roamed over my chest, my breasts.

  He leaned down, and his short, thick beard scratched against my chin, my neck. My body was hot with need as cool air prickled my bare skin.

  He lingered over me, not quite giving me what I wanted, what I needed.

  “Who are you?” he asked in a gravelly voice.

  “Shh.” I grabbed his hips and pulled them down to meet mine. He barely budged, so I wrapped my legs around him and pulled myself up, teasing his tip against my opening.

  “I didn’t make you so we could talk.”

  He tilted his head sideways as he looked at me, then he smiled. It was a wicked, gorgeous grin. Then he rocked his hips, giving me a tease, giving me a taste of his massive cock.

  “More, more now,” I commanded.

  But he didn’t obey. Instead, he smiled wider.

  “Who are you?” he asked again.

  Everything went black.

  Nooooooo.

  I blinked my blurry eyes into focus. I was in my room, and someone else was here.

  Was this still a dream?

  A hand was on my shoulder, shaking me. “Valerie, wake up.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and then open again and looked up at the outline of a familiar face—Clara.

  “What’s…” It was so dark. I propped up on my elbows. “What time is it?”

  “It’s the middle of the night, but I thought you’d want to know.”

  As my vision adjusted, I could see her eyes were wide and her hand was shaking. Something was wrong, seriously wrong.

  “Something was stolen from the archives,” she said.

  That didn’t make any sense. Maybe I was still dreaming. I checked my fingers, and there were ten. Okay, so probably not a dream. This was bad.

  “Thanks for telling me,” I said, climbing from the bed. I grabbed the pants I’d left on the floor and headed for the door. My legs were still weak from my dream, my brain still lost in fog, in hard muscles, and in frustration.

  Chapter Two

  Deckard

  A pounding sound woke me from a deep sleep. When I opened my eyes, the wooden beams above me came into focus. It was still dark, and I was still in my bed.

  Had everything I’d just experienced been a dream? Had she been just a dream?

  She’d felt so real, the soft warmth of her fair skin, the sweetness of her cherry scent. I still felt the echo of her touch against my skin. I could still see the need pooling in her green eyes, feel her shallow breath against my neck. I’d been so sure she was my mate...and it was only a fucking dream.

  Then she just disappeared, right before I could…I lifted my head and looked down. Sure enough, my dick was pitching a tent with the sheets.

  The rest of the details of the dream were already starting to fade as I tried to put the pieces back together. It hadn’t just been a woman there, but also snakes.

  It had been like throwing a switch. Rage had filled me when I’d seen the snakes, though I couldn’t say why. It was the same old anger I worked so hard to control.

  But then when I saw her...

  That pounding sound came again. This time I was awake enough to realize it was someone at the front door. I got up and tugged on yesterday’s jeans from on top of the dresser, stuffing my erection down the left leg. I walked down the short hall from my bedroom to the tiny living room of my cabin. With barely enough space for a recliner, TV, and side table, guests never felt comfortable for long. It was perfect.

  Their scents hit me before I reached the door. Shifters—one tiger, one wolf, both male. I didn’t sense any agitation or hostility, so they weren’t looking for a fight. Chances were they were here for work, which was worse.

  I opened the door just enough to fit my shoulders in the opening, little enough to make it clear they weren’t invited in. An autumn breeze rushed in, bringing with it a frigid chill from the nearby mountain tops.

  The tiger looked like a typical shifter—burly, tall, stoic. The wolf...he made me question my sense of smell.

  Short and stringy, he looked nothing like I had expected. His brown hair was cut like a child’s bowl cut and swept over his eyes. He looked young to be with the Tribunal, too, like he hadn’t yet hit puberty. Maybe that was all that was wrong with him, he was a kid.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  “Mr. Reid?” the tiger asked.

  I nodded.

  “I’m Agent Keating,” the tiger said. “This is Agent Wafflick, may we come in?”

  Waffle-lick? Agent? It didn’t matter. I had no business with the Tribunal.

  “No.”

  “As you wish,” Keating said. “We can do the briefing right here.” Briefing? Hell, no. There wasn’t going to be a briefing.

  “I’m on leave.”

  “Yes, sir, but the Tribunal is short on agents in the area. Quick job, Deck, in and out.”

  “I see three capable agents right here.” The young wolf pounded his chest with a fist. Then his grin faded as he looked between me and Keating, and he deflated.

  “I’m shipping out myself in the morning, just doing Miller a favor giving you the message. Seems no one can get a hold of you.” Keating lifted a brow as he studied my face. Was he expecting a reaction?

  “Guess my phone died.”

  I waited for hi
m to say something more, but he didn’t.

  Instead, it was the pup who spoke up. His eyes grew wide. “Wait, did you say Mr. Reid? Deck? As in Deckard Reid?”

  The tiger glared a warning in his direction.

  The pup didn’t take the hint. “Whoa, you didn’t tell me we were coming to see the Springport Slayer.”

  Fear overtook the pup’s scent, and his face contorted with a wide-eyed mix of curiosity and panic.

  My jaw tightened as I scowled, and my fists clenched involuntarily.

  It wasn’t a surprise that they’d made up a name for me, not after what had happened, but anyone with any sense would have kept it behind my back.

  “Shut it, Wafflick.” Keating elbowed the wolf in the side, causing him to wince.

  Springport. The details were still too fresh. The scent of blood still clung to my hands, the guilt...I wasn’t ready to go back.

  “Look, I’ve done my job here.” Keating shoved a manila folder into my folded arms. “You’ll be the one on the hook with Miller if you don’t take care of it.”

  I could have protested, but there was no point. It wasn’t the tiger’s fault Miller was taking me off leave. And since it had been Miller who had required me to take the time off, I knew this had to be important.

  Keating walked back to the Jeep parked in the grass beside my truck. He gave a lazy wave over his shoulder before climbing in.

  The door clicked shut and he started the engine.

  I watched as he backed out of my yard and drove away down the dirt road along the mountainside. Amusement pricked the corners of my lips. He’d forgotten his wolf pup, who was still standing on my front step, staring at me.

  “Your ride is leaving.” I spared him a glance.

  Wafflick smiled wide and shook his head. “Oh, no, he’s not my ride. You are.”