Rosalie Undone (Book Six)

by Elizabeth Kelly

  “Beauty tames the Beast!”

  “What the hell? That bitch’s got nuts of goddamn steel!’

  “I’m a coyote shifter. She can tame me anytime she wants. Anyone know her name? I need a woman like that in my life and my bed.”

  “I gotta find this woman. I think I’m in love. I’ll be her beast.”

  “Who knew a hot chick could tame the savage beast?”

  “Is this 4 real? How the fuck she get that bear 2 calm down?”

  “That giant bear loves his woman. She about to get some 2nite!”

  She sat back with a thud, staring at Mr. Pibbles when he jumped up on the table. After a moment, she checked Facebook. She didn’t have many friends, but Sam, the squirrel shifter from work, had already tagged her in a post with a “Holy shit, it’s you, Rosalie!” comment.

  The post was a still shot of the video turned into a meme. It had already been shared thousands of times, and this time she didn’t even bother to scroll through the long list of comments.

  ‘How a Beauty Tames a Beast” was written across the image in bold dark red letters. It was the moment where Hudson kissed her hand, and she stared at their images – at the way he looked at her as he kissed her palm and the way she looked at him – for a long time.

  “Mr. Pibbles,” she finally whispered. “He called me his mate last night. He called me his mate and he almost killed a man for knocking me down. I – I think he loves me.”

  Mr. Pibbles sat on his haunches, his green eyes studying her as she whispered, “He loves me and… and I love him.”

  She sat up straight. “I love him, Pib-Pib. I freaking love him. He’s my…mate.”

  A rush of happiness made her nearly light-headed. She loved Hudson.

  There was no uncertainty, no second-guessing. For a moment, she could have smacked herself in the head. How she ever thought that what she’d felt for Lincoln was love… she was a damn idiot.

  Hudson was still sleeping but she didn’t care. She was waking him up and telling him exactly how much she loved him.

  * * *

  He heard her running up the stairs. He had already dressed and was standing at the window, staring out at the cloudy sky. A war had been going on within him for the last ten minutes. Last night, he had called her his mate and there was no pretending he hadn’t. She would remember this time, she wouldn’t chalk it up to a dream. He had called her his mate at the bar and in bed.

  You have to end it, Hudson. You have to before she starts to feel real emotion for you, not just lust.

  It’s too late, his polar bear growled. She is our mate, she loves us.

  Maybe she didn’t. Maybe she only called him her mate because she knew he liked it when she did. She was in love with the lion shifter. She wanted him, not Hudson.

  She was supposed to be with the lion shifter last night, remember? She chose you. End it, Hudson! End it before she dies.

  We’ll protect her! His bear growled. We’ll keep her safe.

  Like we kept Samuel safe?

  His polar bear made a low whimper and retreated as the door to the bedroom opened. He smelled her sweet scent, heard the excited rush of her breathing, as she crossed the room. She put her arms around him and kissed the middle of his back.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “Hey, how are you feeling?”

  “Perfectly fine.”

  She was nearly vibrating against him and he turned around to face her. She beamed up at him, and his heart sank when she gave him a shy smile. “How do you feel, my mate?”

  Nausea making his stomach churn, he said, “Don’t call me that.”

  The smile dropped from her face and she stepped away, folding her arms over her torso in a familiar gesture of anxiety. “I – you were fine with it last night.”

  “That was a mistake,” he said. “This is just a casual thing, remember?”

  Two spots of red appeared high on her cheeks, and he both admired and hated her bravery when she said, “No, it isn’t. Maybe it started off that way, but it isn’t anymore. I love you, Hudson. And I think you love me too.”

  His polar bear tried to surge forward, tried to force him to tell her she was right. He fought it back grimly, his entire body shaking with the effort. Concern etched into Rosalie’s face and she reached out for him. “Hudson? What’s wrong?”

  He stumbled back and shook his head. “You love the lion shifter, not me.”

  “No,” she said. “I don’t. I only thought I loved Lincoln, but now that I’ve been with you, I know that -”

  “So, you were in love with the lion, but you fuck me a few times and now suddenly I’m the one you’re in love with?” He swallowed down the bitter bile rising in his throat before forcing himself to give her a scornful look. “You don’t even know what love is, Rosalie. You just hop from man to man, falling in love with the one who’s currently between your legs.”

  “Stop it,” she whispered. “Stop being so mean. This isn’t you.”

  “This is me,” he said. “You agreed to keep it casual, remember? Now you think you can just change the rules because you’ve realized you’ll never be kinky enough for the lion? You and I both know that you’re not in love with me. You’re tired of being alone, and I’m just your second choice because I don’t care that you don’t want the kink. That isn’t love, Rosalie, that’s settling.”

  “You asshole!” She shouted at him. “You’re the one who keeps acting like I’m yours. You called me your mate last night, you-you make me tell you I belong to you all the goddamn time! I’m not the only one who -”

  He shook his head. “Just part of the dom/sub thing. I guess I should have been clearer about how that worked.”

  She stared at him, her face pale and tears brimming in her lovely eyes. “I love you, why are you doing this?”

  He took a deep breath, pushed his snarling, growling polar bear down deep, and said the one thing he knew would guarantee to make her hate him. “You’re boring in bed, Rosalie.”

  The tears slid down her cheeks, and she stared mutely at him. His pulse racing and his polar bear screaming in rage and fury, he returned her stare, waiting for the love in her eyes to turn to hatred.

  It didn’t happen. Her body shaking, she wiped at the tears streaming down her face before giving him an oddly dignified look. “I want you to leave.”

  His chest tightened and his throat closed up, until he could almost hear the air whistling in and out of it. For a moment, he was frozen to the spot as his bear, roaring and snarling, made another push for control.

  “Leave, Hudson,” she said.

  He made a choppy nod and threw her house key on the bed before lurching out of the room and staggering down the stairs. He stumbled out of the house, slamming the door behind him before bending over and planting his hands on his knees. He concentrated on forcing air in and out of his shrinking lungs until the black spots in his vision disappeared.

  Go back. Please, go back.

  His polar bear had never sounded so lost and afraid. It made a soft, pleading whimper, and he turned around to go to back to his mate. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t stay away from her, his polar bear would go mad.

  She’ll die. Is that what you want? Sooner or later, Corden will find you and he’ll take Rosie. He’ll take her, and he’ll hurt her, his inner voice whispered.

  We’ll keep her safe, his polar bear replied.

  You couldn’t save Samuel. She isn’t safe with us. Do the right thing.

  Hudson’s hands clenched into fists, and he made a low sound that was a cross between a bark and a whimper before turning abruptly and striding away from Rosalie’s house.

  His body shuddered all over as his polar bear made a soul-crushing howl of agony before falling silent.

  * * *

  “Lady, order a damn drink or leave,” Hudson snarled at the wolf shifter leaning against the bar.

  It was Saturday night, and just like last night, the bar was insanely busy. He’d never seen so many shifter
s packed into the place and while he knew it was just his imagination, it seemed like every single one of them couldn’t stop gawking at him.

  He grimaced as the group of five female gopher shifters to his right leaned over the bar and, giggling loudly, stared at his crotch. It was the fourth time in the last ten minutes and he glared at them.

  Their giggles got louder and one whispered something to the others that he couldn’t hear over the background noise of the bar. The five of them burst into peals of laughter that were so high-pitched it made his head ache.

  He turned back to the wolf shifter, who was also leaning over the bar and staring at his crotch. He snarled loudly and she gave him a toothy grin. “No need to be grumpy, big fella. You can’t blame me for being curious. It was a hell of a lot of blurring needed.”

  He stared blankly at her. Before he could ask her what the fuck she was talking about, she reached out and traced her fingers over his forearm. “Hey, you feel like being tamed again, big guy? We can meet up after you’re done work, and you can show me exactly what you can do with that big cock of yours.”

  He gaped at her before pulling his arm back. “Lady, you have ten fucking seconds to order a drink before I get your ass kicked out of the bar.”

  “God,” she sniffed, “you don’t have to be such an asshole. You only into humans or something? Since when the fuck was a polar bear into humans anyway?”

  Tired and on edge with his temper frayed to the breaking point, he bared his fangs at her and growled so loudly that the giggling gophers fell silent. He caught the scent of the wolf’s fear and a mixture of shame and anger flowed through him.

  Before he could say anything, Porter clapped him on the back. “Go take a break.”

  “I’m fine,” he gritted out.

  Porter shook his head. “Take a break, I said. Now, Hudson.”

  He stomped past the gophers, ignoring the way they all leaned over the bar again to stare at his ass as he stormed down the hallway. He shoved open the back exit and stepped into the cold night air, letting the door shut behind him.

  He leaned against the rough brick, staring up at the night sky. Not two minutes later, the door opened and Judd’s scent washed over him.

  “You okay, man?”

  He pushed away from the wall and paced back and forth. “What the hell is going on, Judd? Tonight, and last night, it’s been a fucking zoo in there and the assholes won’t stop staring at me. I’ve had six different shifters proposition me over the last two nights, and” he stopped and gave Judd a confused look, “do you know how many females have eyed my goddamn crotch? Like, just leaned over the bar and stared at it. What the fuck?”

  Judd burst into laughter. “That’s what happens when you become an Internet sensation and three quarters of the shifters in this city see the size of your dick. I know you’re with the little human and you ain’t interested in the ladies, but can you do me a solid and send them my way? Tell them black bear dick is just as big as polar bear dick.”

  Hudson stared blankly at his friend. What the hell was Judd talking about?

  “If I were you,” Judd continued, “I’d ask Porter for a raise before all the excitement wears off. You’ve made him some serious fuckin’ quid in the last two days, thanks to that video.”

  “What are you talking about?” Hudson said.

  “The video,” Judd said. “The goddamn video that’s on YouTube. It’s so busy in here because everyone wants to see the beast. Hell, we’re lucky Rosalie hasn’t dropped by to see you. It’d probably cause a fucking riot if they saw the two of you together acting all lovey-dovey.”

  “What video?” Hudson said.

  “Someone recorded what happened Thursday night and uploaded it to YouTube. You’ve got like half a million hits, man.”

  “What?” Hudson said through numb lips.

  Judd pulled out his phone and typed for a few seconds before handing it over to him. “Here, look for yourself.”

  He watched the video, dismay washing over him. He’d had no appetite over the last two days, and the acid in his empty stomach burned like fire as he handed the phone back to Judd. His dismay was now edged with bright panic.

  “Hey, man? You okay? You look like you’re about to puke,” Judd said.

  “How many people have seen this?” He whispered.

  Judd shrugged. “Like half a million or so. There’s a meme going around on Facebook too. Beauty tames the Beast.” He snorted laughter. “It’s why all the ladies are so into you. Your dick might be blurred out, but they can still tell what you’re packing. I’m surprised you and your lady haven’t seen it. I know you ain’t got a Facebook account, but she must, right?”

  Hudson barely heard him. The panic was crowding into his chest and his polar bear was making low whines of distress.

  Our mate. Our mate is in danger.

  She’s fine, he said soothingly. She’s fine. Corden has very little use for the internet. He won’t be watching fucking videos on YouTube or Facebook.

  His bear whined again. It didn’t believe him and it renewed its vigorous efforts to get him to go to Rosalie. He hadn’t eaten or slept since leaving Rosalie’s house, and all of his energy had been taken up with trying to control his polar bear. It had been making a concentrated effort for over twenty-four hours now to gain the upper hand, and to be honest, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep it subdued.

  He needed to leave the city, he needed to be in a place where he’d never see Rosalie again, but he couldn’t leave. His polar bear was on the edge of madness as it was. He had made a terrible mistake in thinking he could convince his polar bear that Rosalie wasn’t their mate. If he left the city now, if he cut off any chance of ever seeing Rosie again, his polar bear would go completely insane.

  Another shudder went through him. He wasn’t sure what would happen to his human side if his bear went mad, but he had an idea that it would be terrifyingly… unpleasant.

  “Hudson? Seriously, man, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “Nothing’s wrong. I gotta get back to work.” He pushed past Judd and opened the door. Rosalie would be fine. Corden wouldn’t have seen the video, and after a few more days, it wouldn’t be popular anymore and he’d sink back into obscurity.

  * * *

  “My mate!” The howl ripped from Hudson’s throat and he sat straight up, his heart in his throat and the vision of Rosalie drowning in blood stamped into his brain. He staggered into a standing position from the couch.

  His stomach heaved and he lurched his way into the kitchen and leaned over the sink, vomiting up the fruit he’d forced himself to eat earlier.

  “My mate,” he croaked.

  A beard grew on his face, and he straightened and growled deep in his throat as his eyes turned from dark chocolate to the black of his bear. “My mate,” he said again.

  He headed for the door as white fur sprouted on the back of his neck and down his arms. He stiffened and made a strangled cry, as he reached for the door handle.

  “No,” he groaned. “You cannot.”

  He staggered back before turning and driving his fist through the wall. He punched the wall repeatedly, ignoring the pain that raced up his arm, ignoring the streaks of blood that turned the white paint a deep red.

  When his bear retreated and he finally had control, he leaned against the opposite wall and stared at the dozen blood-smeared holes that punctured the formerly pristine wall. He was panting and sweating, and he flexed his hand cautiously. It was broken, the knuckles swelling and bruising, but it would heal.

  He flexed it again, almost relishing the sharp bite of pain, before returning to the kitchen. He pulled a bag of frozen peas from the freezer and set it on his knuckles, staring blankly at the kitchen table.

  Our mate is in terrible danger.

  He tried to ignore the insistent growls of his bear. He’d dozed off on the couch and the nightmare had returned. A shudder went through him. Rosalie was okay, she was safe, and the only w
ay she would stay safe is if he stayed away from her. He couldn’t risk –

  You could kill Corden.

  He froze, staring at his broken hand as his polar bear made another soft growl. Kill Corden and we can be with our mate.

  Excitement replaced the nausea in his belly. If he killed Corden, he could be with Rosalie. He could be with his mate. It was so simple. Why hadn’t he thought of this before?

  Maybe because Corden is dangerous? You’re not thinking straight, his inner voice snapped. Corden is powerful, and he has a lot of shifters to protect him. There’s no way you’ll get close enough to kill him, Hudson. Be reasonable.

  He dropped the bag of peas on the table and grabbed his phone with his left hand. It was just after two on Sunday afternoon. If he left now, he could be in Alberta by Monday night. He would kill Corden and then return to his mate. He would beg for her forgiveness. His mate was sweet-natured and kind, she would forgive him.

  He clumsily texted Porter, telling him he wouldn’t be at work this week. He gave no explanation. If Porter fired him, so be it. He’d find another job. It didn’t matter what he did for a job. As long as he was with his mate, he would be content.

  Stop! You can’t do this. You’re going to die, and Rosalie will never know how you feel about her. Is that what you want? You might be stronger than Corden, but you can’t kill him on your own. He has too many shifters to protect him, and -

  His polar bear growled loudly, drowning out the protests of his inner voice. As he headed up the stairs to pack a small bag, his beard thickened and he grinned widely, revealing his razor-sharp fangs.

  Chapter Twenty

  “See you later, Magpie. Enjoy your Sunday afternoon, go home and bang your man or something equally fun.”

  Maggie untied her apron and stuffed it under the counter before smiling at her coworker, Simone. “I’m sticking around for a bit longer. Rosalie is meeting me here for coffee.”