A Shifter's Healing Love

by T. Cobbin

  A Shifter’s Healing Love

  by

  T. Cobbin

  A Shifter’s Healing Love

  Copyright © 2017, T. Cobbin

  ISBN: 9781944270827

  Publisher: Beachwalk Press, Inc.

  Electronic Publication: October 2017

  Editor: Pamela Tyner

  Cover: Fantasia Frog Designs

  eBooks are not transferable. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations in articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Back Cover Copy

  Danielle seeks somewhere to hide from her past and finds something out of this world.

  For the past five years Danielle and her son Ollie have been the only residents on the Vanish Isle. One night she’s awoken by a loud noise. Fearing that the monster from her past—the man she’s spent years hiding from—has found her, she investigates the house with the first weapon she can find held firmly in her hand. She will not hesitate to knock the man out cold.

  Needing a holiday, Leo decides to head to his childhood home for a rest only to be accosted by his house sitter. But he can’t be angry with the beautiful woman, because as soon as he sees her he knows that he’s found his mate at last.

  Danielle’s five-year-old son forms an immediate bond with Gracie, Leo’s eight-year-old ward, but things move at a much slower pace for Leo and Danielle. He senses that she’s been hurt and doesn’t trust anyone. He knows it will take some time to win her over. Only then will he break the news to her that both he and Gracie are gorilla shifters.

  Can Danielle learn to trust and love? Can she accept a shifter mate? And what will happen when her past finally catches up with her?

  Content Warning: contains strong language, some violence, and lots of hot, steamy sex scenes

  Dedication

  To those who survived and come out of the other end. You did it, now keep on going!

  Acknowledgements

  To Pamela and the Beachwalk crew. My thanks never dies. You allowed me to keep doing what I have so badly dreamed of doing.

  Author’s Foreword

  All kinds of abuse leaves scars, be it mentally or physically. Those scars tell your story. Don’t hide them away and be afraid to tell your story. You are a survivor.

  Prologue

  The sound of the whip cracked through the air. Violet knew what was coming and clamped her lips and teeth together so not to make any noise. Master didn’t like noise.

  She couldn’t brace herself enough when the pain struck. It was toe-curling, fist-clenching, eye-watering, breath-stealing pain. She swayed, but she defiantly stiffened her body and remained kneeling. Today she felt like fighting, to stay knelt up and not collapse on the floor. She was taking a risk, but there were times she knew Master loved her defiance. Other times it pissed him off and she’d be subjected to more punishment.

  Slowly, some of the pain ebbed to a burning sensation. Instead of concentrating on her new agony she tried to think what she had done wrong this time. She’d been asleep when Master had walked into her small, enclosed, padded room, demanding she kneel and crawl backward to the edge of the door and take five strikes. The room wasn’t big enough to swing a cat, let alone a whip.

  Even with the door open, she had no idea what lay outside of this room. She was either told to crawl backward, or Master would walk into the room and shut the door. To exit the room, he would lift a small panel that hid a numbered keypad behind it, and then enter a number, which released the door. When she first became aware of the pad, she’d tried many times to crack the code, only to receive punishment for it.

  She guessed the room she’d woken up in after a night out was about the size of a prison cell. It was padded in thick, white material. In one corner was a toilet, but not the usual sit-on kind, it was more of a hole in the floor with a seat cover over it. On the floor beside another wall was a thin mattress with a blanket and pillow. The lights came on in the morning—well, what she assumed was morning—and were turned off at night. There was nothing to do, nothing to see. She had no sense of day or night apart from the lights coming on and going off.

  The first few days—she presumed with the lights going on and off—she’d fought against Master. She’d sworn blue murder at the man, demanding to be released and allowed to go home. Gradually, over time, that changed to pleading, until finally it was easier just to submit. Now, after so long and so many punishments, she didn’t speak unless Master asked her to. Her spirit was well and truly broken. She dreamed of release, but the longer she was there, the more she knew the only way she’d leave this room was by death.

  Violet often wondered if anyone was missing her. She’d barely started her new job as a secretary when Master had taken her, so she hadn’t really known any of her work colleagues. It was the same with her flat—she’d just moved into it. She’d had to move all the way across London for her new job, so she didn’t know anyone around the new area either. Her parents had died over four years ago in a car crash, not that she’d been close to them. They had always been more interested in their jobs than they were in her.

  “You are the mistake I didn’t know about until it was too late.” Violet had repeatedly thought about her mother’s words. They bit at her heart as often as Master’s whip bit her skin.

  Master was as well dressed as her father had been. And even though she thought of Master as a monster, he smelled good, like he wore expensive cologne. He’d been the one to approach her at the nightclub. She wasn’t someone who went clubbing, she preferred to sit curled up with a book, but she’d been talked into going out with an old college friend. As the night went on, her friend had drifted off with a partner, leaving Violet on her own. She’d been sitting at the bar, staring into her drink and thinking about leaving, when a deep, sexy, male voice had asked if he could buy her a drink. She’d looked up to see a handsome man with stunning eyes staring at her.

  She was more than flattered enough to say yes. She was a woman with curves, and not often picked up by passing men. She’d taken a few sips of her drink and hadn’t even had time to ask Master his name, yet alone anything about himself, when she began to feel funny. She didn’t remember much else until waking up here. In this room. Naked.

  She wasn’t sure how long she’d been in this little, padded room. There was no way to judge time, other than basing it on her periods. And even during that time she wasn’t allowed to wear panties, or any other clothing. She was just given a few tampons.

  She’d had eight periods before she’d started to feel nauseated each time she woke. It wasn’t long before as soon as she opened her eyes she had to rush for the hole in the floor to empty her stomach. At first, she thought she was being poisoned, but when her breasts had also begun to feel tender, she guessed she could be pregnant. It wasn’t as if Master was using condoms or she was being given birth control—unless it was in her food—and he always came inside of her.

  Was this what Master wanted? Was this another cruel mind trick of his? Did he want her to have his baby? If not, then what would he do when he found out?

  The fifth stroke of the whip whizzed across her back, leaving her holding back her tears and breathing through the pain. She waited in silence to see if this was one of those times Master would surprise her with another strike. But instead, his hand pushed against her lower back where he hadn’t whipped her, indicating she should lean on her hands and wait for the inevitable. He tugged her head back by her long hair. She squeezed her eyes shut as he pushed his
hard shaft inside her, and then rutted into her like he had many times before. Finally, he gave one last thrust with a grunt, and she felt his warm semen fill her channel.

  After a pause, he withdrew his flaccid cock from her body. She waited, not daring to move.

  “Crawl, slave,” Master ordered her harshly. It felt like an eternity since anyone had used her name. She was now known as slave, or it.

  She did as he instructed, keeping her head down, her eyes staring at the floor. She crawled the few inches back inside the room. The intense pain across her back where he’d struck her with the whip made her feel sick.

  She could feel the blood where the whip had slashed her, breaking her skin, dripping down her sides. Her back must have quite a few scars on it now. Probably looked a right mess. She fought the tears burning at the back of her eyes. They didn’t do any good, they just made her feel tired and depressed. They also wouldn’t help her escape this room.

  “Master Two will be by shortly to attend to you.” And with those words, the door shut and she was left alone again.

  Each night, before the lights were turned off, Master Two would enter the room. He would blindfold her before taking her to a bathroom where she could shower. He would take her blindfold off and watch her bathe. Never once was she left alone. She’d taken the chance to peruse the bathroom, but the only thing she really noticed was that it had no windows and it was decorated in black and white marble.

  Once showered, she was blindfolded again and quickly returned to her room. Master Two used to only take care of her food and showers. He’d bring her a meal, watch her eat it in silence, and then leave, always making sure she never kept any utensils. But before her last period, Master Two had come into the room with Master and had raped her for the first time, under the instruction of the other man.

  Master Two was different. He had only used her three times. The first time, he’d whispered into her ear that he was sorry. He’d never come to her at those times alone, Master was always there with him, watching, instructing him how to use her. But even then, Master Two was gentler. He never hurt her. It almost felt like he cared.

  She had no idea how long she knelt on her hands and knees. She wanted so badly to crawl to her mattress and cry, but Master would hand out more punishment for misbehavior. She knew there was a camera somewhere in the room; she’d discovered that at the very beginning of being a captive. She’d tried to pry the material off the walls, had shouted herself hoarse, hoping someone could hear her. And each time, Master had punished her, but no matter how hard she’d looked for the camera, she had yet to find it.

  Through her tired and foggy mind, she heard the door lock click. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, preparing herself for what was to come.

  “Get up, Violet,” Master Two ordered.

  Violet? Master Two had used her name? Hearing her name, after such a long time, seemed so alien to her. Was this a trick? Her heart pounded deep inside her chest. Was Master Two trying to coax her into doing something wrong for more punishment?

  “Shit!” he cursed angrily behind her.

  Still, she was unsure if she should move or not. She opened her eyes when she felt movement beside her.

  “Violet, we need to move. The man you call Master is on his way to Australia. It’s a long enough trip that by the time he has landed and managed to fly home again, you could be far away from here and hopefully free.”

  Confusion muddled her brain. Master Two had not only used her name, but was trying to free her? She turned her head a little and glanced out of the side of her eyes toward Master Two. He was smiling and nodding.

  “I have money and clothes for you, and a plan to get you out of the building.”

  Violet’s mouth dropped opened. Could this be true? Slowly, she knelt up, her hands dropping to the side of her aching body. A thousand questions ran through her mind, but she was afraid to speak.

  “We will get you in a shower, clean up your back, and then I’ll make sure you get a good meal while I tell you my plan.”

  Hope bloomed, but still fear won out, and she stayed motionless.

  Master Two looked to be telling the truth. He stood and offered her a hand. Oh God! What should she do? Should she take his offer? Would he beat her for doing so? What about Master? Was he waiting behind that closed door to punish her again?

  “My name is Kevin. Please, I beg of you, trust me. I know I have wronged you, but I plan to put that right.” He paused. “Please. As soon as I knew of Master’s trip, I knew I had the chance of freeing you and you having enough time to get away. I need you to believe me,” he pleaded.

  Looking at his offered hand, Violet told herself to take the chance. She was in pain already, what else could Master do, kill her? At least it would get her out of here in some way.

  Taking Kevin’s hand, she stood with his help. She swayed as pain rocked her body. Blowing out a breath, she steadied herself and walked out of the room with Kevin. She was out! She was actually out of the room and not blindfolded.

  She glanced around, taking in every single detail she could. It looked like they were in an expensive, high-rise office. It had floor-to-ceiling windows. There was a large wooden and glass desk with office paraphernalia on it, a leather chair sitting behind it. Two large, L-shaped, plush, white couches were sitting in one corner. The oil paintings on the wall looked real and not printed like she had in her apartment.

  The thought of home had her wondering again if she would ever see it. Quite often while in the room, she wondered if anyone was looking for her. She had no family, and what friends she did have weren’t close and wouldn’t really miss her. Now that she saw what was outside the room she’d been held captive in, she could only think that if Master was this rich, why had he needed her? Surely he could have found a woman who was willing to adhere to his sexual demands, no matter how perverted they were.

  Kevin walked her across the black marble floor in front of her, toward another door. A brief thought drifted through her tortured mind, perhaps he was just moving her to a different room. This was just a ruse. But then he opened the door for her to see a small bathroom, the one she’d used many times before.

  “Take a shower. Once you’re done, I’ll bandage your back and you can get dressed. But don’t take too long, we still need to get you out of this building.”

  Clothes? Still plagued by questions, she held her tongue and nodded. She climbed into the shower and turned it on, allowing the water to drift over her body. She watched the water mingle with her blood as it curled around then sank down the drain. Small beads of pain racked the cuts on her back as a drop here and there slipped into her wounds.

  But the biggest thing she noticed was that Master Two—Kevin—left the bathroom, leaving her there alone. Never had he done that before! Shock rippled through her as well as a small amount of hope. Turning her mind back to the shower, she concentrated on bathing. She had no idea what lay on the other side of getting clean, so she relished the small amount of freedom that she hadn’t had since being a captive.

  * * * *

  A short time later, Violet sat on one of the white leather couches in the large office, with her back bandaged and dressed in a light blue skirt, blouse, and jacket. Hope grew as she ate the meal Master Two…Kevin had given her. She still hadn’t spoken, or tried to escape. She still wasn’t sure what game the Masters were playing.

  Occasionally, she could hear a phone ring or people talking on the other side of the misted glass walls. She had glanced toward the office door, wondering how long it would take her to reach it. If she could escape? Or was Master on the other side, waiting for her to fuck up?

  She felt angry at herself. At twenty-one she had never been one to back down from an argument or allow anyone else to make a mug of her. Now look at her—she was beaten down so badly she was within inches of escaping and wouldn’t take the risk.

  Kevin stood from where he’d been sitting on the couch opposite her and walked toward the large office d
esk. She peeked through her lowered eyelashes and watched him pick up a black, pull-along suitcase. He carried it back toward her and placed it near her feet and then sat on the couch opposite her. She noticed he too looked down at his feet, his shoulders slumped as if he felt as defeated as she did.

  He suddenly spoke. “I’ve been providing you with everything from food to toiletries. I know you’ve missed a period and you’ve been sick. But Master has no idea, I’ve kept it quiet.”

  Violet’s heart began to pound heavily, and it was suddenly hard to breathe.

  “Shit!” he cursed and moved to sit beside her. “I didn’t mean to frighten you any more than you are. I’m sorry. It’s okay, Violet, I promise.”

  The plate on her lap disappeared to be replaced by one of his hands. She knew not to shirk away from the Masters, it meant punishment.

  “In this bag...” Kevin opened the zipper at the top of the case a little so she could see what was inside. She was shocked to see neatly lined bundles of money. “This is my life savings and more that I borrowed from the bank. All in all, there is about a quarter of a million. This will be enough to get somewhere, buy a small place, and live under the radar.” He placed a large, brown envelope on her lap. “Here is a new birth certificate, driving license, and other IDs you might need in a new name of Danielle Knight. I must stipulate, Violet, when you walk from this building, that you not use your real name or attempt to contact anyone from your old life. If you do, he…Master will find you. He is a rich son of a bitch that thinks of you as his. If you so much as poke your head out to be seen, even once, he will find you.”

  For the first time Violet lifted her head and looked up at Kevin’s face, and not just out of the corner of her eye. He looked a little older than herself, and yet his eyes told her a different story. He wore a smart suit like Master did, although it was a tad wrinkled. He had what appeared to be overnight stubble on his face, and he looked tired.