And right now, I’ve got my eyes set on Ràn. Is that greedy, knowing that I already have a mate and have kissed another guy in this room? Perhaps. Maybe it’s the bear in me who’s wanting more than one man.
Don’t blame it all on me, little human. You wanted them long before I joined you.
Yes, maybe. But I didn’t have the courage to act on it before. Now I have a bear inside me…
You flatter me.
I do? Wasn’t my intention.
I give Ràn a break and watch them play. Still, his erection isn’t disappearing, despite me stopping my wiggling around. Maybe my theory about him being always aroused was correct…
Oh stop it. Kiss him or do something else, but stop whining and doubting yourself.
I should listen to my inner bear. She says she’s old, and maybe that means she’s wise. I turn around and surprise Ràn by gently pressing my lips against his. He groans and immediately pulls me closer, deepening the kiss and taking over from my tentative attempts. Húnn clears his throat, probably annoyed at me for disrupting their game, but I couldn’t care less. Ràn tastes amazing, like dark chocolate and cinnamon, slightly earthy, very male. I kiss him as if I’m starving, clinging to him like a monkey. Or a koala bear.
He runs his hands over my back and a shiver runs through my body. I want him so much. Our tongues dance but he is the one to lead, he sets the pace. I go with it, letting me drift on this stream of desire. Ràn is an expert at this and he knows how to make me feel good. I wrap my legs around his waist and feel his erection against my belly. If there weren’t other people in the room, I’d rip his trousers off without a moment’s hesitation.
“We’ll excuse ourselves,” Arnold says with a chuckle and a second later, the door opens and closes. Our hosts have left, sparing me the embarrassment of making out in front of them like a bear in heat. But how could I resist Ràn? He smells, tastes, feels amazing. Different from Torben, different from Finn, unique in his own, alluring way.
I run my hands through his short hair, wishing it was longer so I could grip it properly. I feel like I need him even closer, even though our bodies are already pressed together and our tongues are entwined.
“Do you want us to leave?” Húnn asks softly. I’m busy kissing, I can’t respond, so I try and shake my head but that goes awfully wrong. I bite Ràn’s lip while moving my head and he groans and kisses me even harder. Did he take it as encouragement? Hell, I should bite him more often. He seems to like it.
Húnn must have understood my clumsy gesture because none of the guys move from their seats. They must be watching us, and in my mind I imagine feeling their stares on my back, but I don’t care. On the contrary, I like that they’re here. I want them to watch as I give myself to Ràn.
A warm breath reaches the back of my neck, followed by soft lips a second later. Tentative kisses are pressed on my skin and I moan against Ràn’s mouth. Encouraged, Húnn moves along my shoulder, sliding my top down as far as he can. He leaves trails of kisses all over my collarbone before settling on the nape of my neck. The side where Torben bit me. I checked in the mirror this morning, there was no trace of a bite left. Either I heal faster now that I’m a shifter, or there was something special about that bite. Either or, I enjoyed the pain of it. The elation, the bond. I want Húnn to do it. I want him to taste my blood, take a piece of me within himself. And then for Ràn to do the same. I want to merge with the two brothers and be with them at the same time.
I like your thinking!
“Alis!” I shout, noticing too late that it didn’t just happen in my mind.
Ràn licks his swollen lips. “What did she say?”
I feel my cheeks warm and know that I must be blushing. I had hoped that turning into a bear shifter would get rid of that embarrassing habit my body has acquired over the years. Blushing is for teenagers, not for grown women.
Torben gets up and prowls towards me. He puts a finger under my chin and lifts my head until I’m looking straight into his pale blue eyes. They’re piercing as ever.
“Did she tell you to stop?”
“No,” I whisper, my embarrassment reaching new levels. How can I be so confident on the inside, but as soon as I’m confronted about my sexual desires I turn red faced and shy? Get a grip, Isla. Now’s your chance.
He smiles. “Did she encourage you?”
I nod, still not finding my voice.
“Isla, we should have probably talked about this before… now, but bear females aren’t bound to one male. They-”
“I know,” I interrupt him. “Alis told me.”
His smile grows into something different. Less humorous, more desiring. Like he’s getting close to the end of his hunt and his prey is in sight.
“And what do you think about that?”
It takes me a moment to get my thoughts in order. This is not a conversation I was planning on having anytime soon. Cringe.
“I like it. I like you all. I more-than-like you all. And right now, I’d like some more kisses, please. From all of you.”
Torben chuckles and bends down, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead.
“Like this?”
I growl at him and he laughs even more.
“Don’t make me angry. Kiss me. Properly. Hard. Now.”
“That’s more like it.” Next thing I know, his lips are on mine and he kisses me like there’s no tomorrow. I’m still on Ràn’s lap, whose hands are slipping under my top. Húnn’s mouth is back on my shoulder, gently nibbling on my skin. And Finn, he’s there as well, kissing my right breast through the fabric of my shirt. My nipples are swollen and hard and his ministrations only make them more sensitive.
A moment later, my clothes are gone and discarded on the floor. I moan as their hands roam over my body, all the sensations are making me dizzy. In a good way, a very good way. I let go and enjoy their attention as they bring me closer and closer to the point of no return. I lose track of time and space; their touch is all that matters. I start to stroke their bodies, returning the favour, but my focus lies on that twitchy feeling inside of me which is promising fulfilment.
When Ràn finally glides into me, I explode at his first thrust, screaming in ecstasy. They all get their turn, though, each of them marking me with their scent. Now that I’m a shifter, I have a new awareness of how being close to them changes me. Other bears will be able to smell them on me, and I will proudly wear that scent, showing that I not only have one, but four mates. I am insatiable, and my heart is big enough for them all.
The End.
Isla’s story continues in Protected By Bears, the second book in this completed trilogy. Or get all three books plus an exclusive bonus novella in the Claiming Her Bears box set!
And if you’re curious about the Drowning, I’ve written another reverse harem trilogy set in the same world: The Mars Diaries, a sci-fi romance.
About the Author
Skye MacKinnon is a USA Today & International Bestselling Author whose books are filled with strong heroines who don’t have to choose.
She embraces her Scottishness with fantastical Scottish settings and a dash of mythology, no matter if she’s writing about Celtic gods, cat shifters, or the streets of Edinburgh.
When she’s not typing away at her favourite cafe, Skye loves dried mango, as much exotic tea as she can squeeze into her cupboards, and being covered in pet hair by her bunny diva and cat princess.
Subscribe to her newsletter: skyemackinnon.com/newsletter
Claimed by her Cougar
Cougar Creek Mates Series #1
Felicity Heaton
Having lost his parents and mate in a brutal attack on his cougar shifter pride by a hunter organisation, Rath burns with a need to keep humans off his land and out of his life. He’ll do whatever it takes to protect his pride from them, but when a lone female wanders into his territory, it isn’t a burning need to drive her away he’s feeling and it isn’t his pride that needs protecting—it’s his heart.
Down o
n her luck, Ivy follows a lead to a spot where she hopes to photograph black bears, but what she discovers there is a mountain of a man who lacks manners and seems determined to drive her off his property—a man who stirs unbidden fire in her veins and a strange sense of home.
With a pride gathering on the verge of happening at Cougar Creek and the air charged with a mating heat, the last thing Rath needs is a human on his land, especially one as beautiful and alluring as Ivy, one who rouses a fierce need to fight for her, but he can’t convince himself to let her go… and that proves dangerous for them both.
Copyright © 2018 Felicity Heaton
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior written consent of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
The right of Felicity Heaton to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First printed July 2018
First Edition
Layout and design by Felicity Heaton
All characters in this publication are purely fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Chapter 1
In the tranquil morning air, a deer called out, the sound echoing around the mountains sheltering the peaceful verdant valley.
Rath stilled, froze right down to his breathing as his ears twitched and he cocked his head, the instinct to hunt that animal sweeping through him and tugging at his cougar side.
When the call didn’t come again, he exhaled slowly, releasing his breath and using the action to centre himself, and looked to his left, out of the window that formed a triangle on the gable end of his log cabin, nestled beneath the two sides of the pitched roof where it hung out over the deck below to provide cover.
Mist swirled above the sweeping bend of the river that formed a barrier between him and the thick forest that blanketed the other side, where his senses had pinpointed the deer, among other creatures stirring in the early morning as darkness began to give way to light. The tendrils of fog crept over the stony bank of the river in places, crawling across the grass and into the pines that flanked the open ground on his side of the creek, reaching the deck of the cabin nearest it.
His was too distant, close to two hundred metres from the river across the grass. It was rare for the spring morning mists to reach his home, happened only once or twice a season, the sun too swift to rise and burn them away before they could creep that far up the sloping green.
Rath lingered and let the beauty of the scene wash over him, savouring the peace because it would be shattered soon.
Gods, he wanted his instincts as an unmated male cougar to be wrong, but they hadn’t been yet.
This year, there would be a gathering.
He grabbed his long-sleeved cream t-shirt from the banister at the front of the loft bedroom and tugged it on, following it with a thick dark green fleece that had a zip that reached the centre of his chest. He pulled his faded jeans on and buttoned them as he descended the wooden steps to the ground floor of the cabin. It was small, had only two rooms on the lower level—an open plan kitchen and living room, and an enclosed bathroom—but it was more than big enough for him.
A huff burst from his lips when he saw the fire in the log burner was low. No wonder it was so damned cold this morning. He moved around the worn beige couch and crouched before it, opened the door and tossed another log on, and warmed his hands as he waited for it to catch.
When the fire was blazing again and the chill of morning was off his hands, he yawned and latched the door, and rose back onto his feet.
Gods, he needed coffee.
Rath scrubbed a hand over the two-days’ growth on his face, thought about shaving and then shrugged it off.
He was going to be out all day again, repairing the cabin by the river and clearing up a few more odd jobs he needed to complete around the settlement at the other dozen or so cabins spread throughout the trees on his side of the river. A little insulation on his face wasn’t a bad thing.
Winter had loosened its grip on Cougar Creek, but the mornings and evenings were still chilly, the air holding a bitter bite that was slow to go as the sun struggled to heat the land and quick to return once darkness fell again.
He had been working non-stop since the snowmelt, when that damned feeling had stirred in his gut and he had found himself pacing the porch, scenting the air, hungry for a female he didn’t want and didn’t need.
Wasn’t going to chase.
Gatherings meant one thing for him and his brothers—patrolling the area, acting as a security force to keep the community safe when they were together and in danger of attracting attention.
They also acted as a security force within the pride too, breaking up any fights that weren’t over a female.
Cougars were solitary, so things always got tense when the entire pride gathered in the small village of cabins. The lodges were scattered throughout the broad band of forest that hugged the mountain behind him and the river before him, with enough space between them to keep everyone calm, but there were always a few males too riled up by the season and the reason they were at the village, and fights always broke out.
Last time a gathering had happened, he had personally intervened in more than a dozen brawls, tearing the two opponents off each other and confining them to their cabins for a day or two as punishment.
His three younger brothers weren’t as diplomatic. Storm in particular loved getting stuck into a fight, bashing heads and drawing blood, giving the two males a taste of his strength.
Storm hated being in charge of overseeing the gathering, would prefer to be in the thick of it, fighting and fucking, but it was tradition for their bloodline now, and that meant his brother was confined to the side lines with the rest of them.
Personally, Rath wasn’t interested in the gathering at all, would rather it never happened, or at least happened elsewhere, somewhere far away from Cougar Creek.
He didn’t need females invading his territory.
Wasn’t interested in the silent, or sometimes not so silent, invitations they issued to him.
He would leave the job of satisfying them to the other males who would follow their instincts back to the pride village, forgoing their solitary life for a few weeks to wait for the females to come and to fight for dominance and the right to be the one who would ease her needing.
Hell, some of them would even mate.
Rath paused at the kitchen counter in front of the picture window, staring out of it at the lush grass and the valley beyond it, and the snow-capped mountains that rose in the distance, seeing a different time, one close to fifty years ago now.
When he had found a mate of his own.
One who had been ripped from him.
He shoved her out of his thoughts and focused on his morning ritual, reaching for the cafetiere and setting it down on the polished wooden counter, spooning coffee grounds into the bottom of it and then grabbing the steel kettle. He set it on the stove, stooped and grabbed the white plastic water container and growled.
It was empty.
Shit.
He had meant to fill it last night before heading to bed, but had been so tired after finishing the repairs to the inside of the cabin nearest the river, one of a couple that had been damaged by a winter storm, that he had passed out on the couch.
A cabin he would have to work on again today, getting the roof repaired, because he was running out of time.
The family who owned it had sent word that they would be arriving soon.
The letter he had picked up on a supply run to the nearest settlement had contained more than just news of their imminent arrival though.
It had contained a request for him to personally court the female who would be coming, one who had recently reached her one hundredth year and matured.
He wasn’t interested and he would make that clear when the party arrived, would have sent them a damned reply already if they had chosen to email him rather than sending a letter. A flat refusal wouldn’t appease this particular family, would only see them trying to convince him, so he would use his position as pride protector as a shield to get them to change their mind, telling them he couldn’t participate.
The only thing he wanted to take care of were the cabins.
He stuffed his feet into his black boots, grabbed the empty water can and a metal pail, and zipped up his fleece before opening the door and bracing himself. Damn, it was cold. He needed water, and then coffee, lots of coffee, before he could brave the weather and start work on the roof of the cabin.
His strides were quick at first, carrying him off the raised deck and down the steps to the grass, but they slowed as he looked at the valley, at his home, breathed in the crisp air and absorbed the silence, falling back into savouring it again, clinging to these last remnants of quiet before the storm hit.
Literally.
Things always got crazy when his brothers descended on him all at once, returning from the cities to annoy him for weeks on end, stomping all over his territory and invading his space.
His second youngest brother, Storm, always lived up to his name, and he was due to return soon, before the others and before the males came for the gathering, having drawn the short straw to help him prepare all the cabins, opening them up and airing them out, and getting any last minute repairs completed.
Shifters Gone Wild; Collection Page 14