Stolen by her Bear (Black Ridge Bears Shifter Romance Series Book 1)

by Felicity Heaton

  Stolen by her Bear

  Black Ridge Bears Series Book 1

  Felicity Heaton

  Contents

  THE ETERNAL MATES WORLD

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Rescued by her Bear - Preview

  About the Author

  Also by Felicity Heaton

  Stolen by her Bear

  Saint is a bear shifter on the war path. He just wants to sleep the winter away, but his rowdy neighbours in the remote Rocky Mountains valley have other plans. When the cougar shifter brothers refuse to keep the noise down, he reacts on instinct, kidnapping a beautiful female who smells like sweet berries and tempts him like no other—a female who happens to be mated to one of the brothers.

  Holly’s first taste of freedom isn’t going as planned. Escaping her family to join in the winter wedding celebrations at Cougar Creek with her friend Ember sounded fantastic, until a grouchy bear shifter grabs her—a gorgeous male who rouses instincts in her that are startling and powerful, igniting a fierce need to growl and stake a claim on him. A gorgeous bear who might be her fated mate.

  Can Holly resist the hungers Saint awakens in her? And when Saint realises his mistake about her identity, can he convince the stunning Holly to give him a second chance?

  THE ETERNAL MATES WORLD

  Black Ridge Bears Series

  Book 1: Stolen by her Bear

  Book 2: Rescued by her Bear - Coming Aug 2021

  Book 3: Saved by her Bear - Coming Aug 2021

  Book 4: Unleashed by her Bear - Coming Sept 2021

  Book 5: Awakened by her Bear - Coming Oct 2021

  Eternal Mates Series

  Book 1: Kissed by a Dark Prince

  Book 2: Claimed by a Demon King

  Book 3: Tempted by a Rogue Prince

  Book 4: Hunted by a Jaguar

  Book 5: Craved by an Alpha

  Book 6: Bitten by a Hellcat

  Book 7: Taken by a Dragon

  Book 8: Marked by an Assassin

  Book 9: Possessed by a Dark Warrior

  Book 10: Awakened by a Demoness

  Book 11: Haunted by the King of Death

  Book 12: Turned by a Tiger

  Book 13: Tamed by a Tiger

  Book 14: Treasured by a Tiger

  Book 15: Unchained by a Forbidden Love

  Book 16: Avenged by an Angel

  Book 17: Seduced by a Demon King

  Book 18: Scorched by Darkness

  Book 19: Inflamed by an Incubus - Coming Soon

  Cougar Creek Mates Series

  Book 1: Claimed by her Cougar

  Book 2: Captured by her Cougar

  Book 3: Courted by her Cougar

  Book 4: Craved by her Cougar

  This series is complete!

  London Vampires Series

  Book 1: Covet

  Book 2: Crave

  Book 3: Seduce

  Book 4: Enslave

  Book 5: Bewitch

  Book 6: Unleash

  This series is complete!

  Discover more available paranormal romance books at: http://www.felicityheaton.com

  Or sign up to my mailing list to receive a FREE vampire romance ebook, learn about new titles, be eligible for special subscriber-only giveaways, and read exclusive content including short stories: http://ml.felicityheaton.com/mailinglist

  Chapter 1

  The noise came again, dragging him up from a deep sleep. Saint’s ears twitched and he tried to shut out the sound, burrowed deeper beneath the pile of furs and shuffled the pillow over his head. He hooked his arm over it, pressing it to his ear.

  His mind emptied, the waiting arms of sleep that hadn’t quite released him pulling him back into the darkness.

  He sank into it.

  Growled as the distant laughter pulled him back up.

  They just weren’t going to shut up.

  He needed them to shut up!

  His thoughts blurred, heavy intangible things that bled together with his bear instincts, had his actions sluggish as he tossed the furs off him and tried to sit up. His whole body felt too heavy, his limbs like lead as he wearily blinked, as he fought to lift his right hand and rub the sleep from his eyes. Another growl rumbled from his chest as he heard the noise again, part of him straining to catch it whenever it happened now, so tuned into it that he could only focus on it, making sleep impossible.

  Irritation flared hotter in his veins as he glared at the small window on the gable end of his cabin to his right.

  A blackout blind obscured his view of the world, but he would bet his left nut that it wasn’t spring yet.

  Saint yawned as he pushed onto his feet, grumbled a curse as he had to grip the pitched ceiling to stop himself from falling on his ass when his knees weakened, unused to bearing his weight. He must have been asleep for a while at least, possibly a few weeks. Not nearly enough of them to get him through the winter.

  His bear side growled and swayed, filled him with a black need to roar and lash out at the world.

  He just wanted to sleep.

  Saint stumbled to the wooden spiral staircase that led down from his loft bedroom, took each step carefully as control of his body slowly came back to him and he began to shake off the effects of his winter sleep. His stomach growled as loudly as his bear instincts, and he rubbed it through his cream long johns, his mouth watering as his mind turned to steak. It would have to wait.

  First thing he needed to do was find out who the hell was making that ruckus.

  Maybe if he knew who it was, knew it wasn’t a threat to him and his kin, he could finally shift his focus back to sleeping.

  He gripped the newel post at the bottom of the staircase and rubbed his dark eyes again, unleashed another yawn that was so big he was in danger of snapping his jaw off.

  Saint grimaced as he placed one foot on the wooden floor of his cabin and quickly snatched it back to set it on the last step of the staircase. He glared at the freezing cold boards and then his gaze leaped to his slippers. A curse pealed from his lips. He had left them near the worn dark brown couch that had its back to him, faced the log burner and the wooden wall opposite him. He had always been the kind of bear to hibernate through the winter, sleeping the short frigid days away, dreaming of spring. He should have spotted the signs that the winter sleep was upon him, should have known it would be months before he woke again, and that the cabin would be freezing by the time spring roused him.

  Saint switched the order of things.

  First port of call was getting the fire going.

  He pulled a face at the frigid floor and then went for it, swore when he tried to move too fast for his recovering body and slammed into the back of the couch, ending up bent over it. He huffed and grabbed his slippers, was swift to tug them on.

  Saint scratched his backside as he yawned and trudged to the black log burner. He sank in front of it and cleaned it out, set up a new fire and lit it. Stared at it as the kindling caught and flames began to dance around the split logs. Warmth curled around him, tugged another yawn from him as a desire to go back to bed and
back to sleep filled him.

  Gods, he just wanted to sleep.

  He dragged a hand down his face, over a month’s growth of beard. He couldn’t sleep though. Not until he knew the source of the noise.

  He had a duty to ensure his pride were safe. Only the twins, Knox and Lowe, were overwintering with him at Black Ridge, their territory deep in a valley in British Columbia, Canada, but that didn’t change his duty as their alpha. He had to make sure it wasn’t hunters or humans out there in the valley.

  Although, he had the feeling he knew who was making that ruckus.

  He growled low, forced himself to leave the fire and grabbed his thick black and green checked fleece from the back of the couch. He tugged the padded shirt on, buttoned it as he moved to the door to the right of his small kitchen. Another growl rolled from him as he shifted the blackout blind on the door aside and flinched, the brightness of the sun bouncing off the thick layer of snow outside almost blinding him.

  He was going to need more than a fleece and jeans to check out what was happening.

  He huffed as he pivoted on his heel, as he crossed the room to the far end and the tall cupboards that filled the space on the right of it, beneath one corner of his loft bedroom. He yanked the wooden doors open and grabbed a heavy winter jacket and thick waterproof trousers, kicked off his slippers and pulled the clothing on. He bent and rifled around in the bottom of the cupboard, snarled when he didn’t find what he was looking for.

  Saint slammed the doors, his mood degenerating rapidly as the thought of all the snow that waited outside, blanketing his territory, only strengthened his desire to sleep, until it fogged his mind and had his limbs feeling heavy again.

  He tried to shake off his bear instincts as he opened the next cupboard and found what he was looking for in the bottom of it. He grabbed his heavy fleece-lined winter boots and pulled the socks he had bundled into balls out of them as he stomped to the couch. A couch that felt too inviting as he sank onto it to tug the thermal socks onto his feet, made him want to roll onto his side and just sleep.

  The noise came again.

  Fuck sleep.

  He was going to kill whoever was out there disturbing his peace.

  He yanked the socks on, followed them with the boots, and shoved to his feet, stormed to the door and pulled it open. A foot of snow cascaded into his home, covering his boots, and he looked down at it.

  Roared as he kicked at it, frustration getting the better of him. “Get the fuck out of my home.”

  “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” The deep male voice that drawled that at him came from his right, and had his focus shifting there.

  His eyes watered as the bright snow assaulted them and he blinked to clear his vision as he stepped out onto the deck of his cabin and tugged the door closed behind him. He looked to his right, but the overhanging pitched roof that provided some protection for the front of his cabin obscured his view, forcing him to move to the wooden railing that enclosed the deck.

  Saint leaned against the capping rail and looked across the deep blanket of snow to the twin cabins that were closer to the trees on that side of the clearing that formed the heart of Black Ridge. Beyond those cabins, the forest rose up the side of the towering mountains that sheltered his territory, the dark evergreen canopy capped with white as far as the eye could see.

  He grunted at all the snow.

  Knox stood by the door of the cabin on the left of the two, looking just as grumpy as Saint felt, wrapped in a thick checked robe and sneering at the snow.

  The sandy-haired bear wasn’t the only one awake either.

  Saint glanced at the cabin to the right of Knox’s, at the more ash-blond male who was shovelling snow off his deck, and who, unlike his twin, was already wearing sensible winter protective gear.

  Had Saint woken the brothers from their winter sleep, or had it been that damned noise?

  He cocked his head as he listened for it, starting to think maybe he had imagined it.

  But then another round of raucous laughter and cheering echoed through the trees.

  Trees that stretched from the foothills of the mountains on his right to the river hidden somewhere beneath the snow to Saint’s left, separating Black Ridge from Cougar Creek.

  Saint growled again as he twisted to face that way, his fangs dropping this time and a need to shift surging through him. Damned cougars. It had to be them. No human was insane enough to venture up the valley in the dead of winter, when the snow drifted to over six feet deep in places.

  But it wasn’t like the cougar shifters to be noisy in winter.

  They were usually silent once the snow began to creep further down the mountains and began to fall in the basin of the valley, the last of the visitors bidding goodbye to Cougar Creek for the year, leaving their alpha, Rath, alone there throughout the long winter months.

  Saint poked his head out from beneath the protruding roof of his cabin and glared at the sun where it skimmed just above the mountains to his left, on the rise. Normally, he enjoyed seeing the sun shining against the vivid blue sky, liked gazing at the jagged mountains and the dense forests that covered the land on that side of the creek.

  Loved lazing by that creek, watching the fish.

  Couldn’t do that now, with it buried under several feet of snow and ice.

  He turned his frown on the snow that reached almost as high as the deck, had to be at least three feet deep where it had accumulated against the underside of his raised cabin. His gaze tracked across the undulating snow that stretched between him and the thick forest of lodgepole pines and spruces.

  This was going to be one shitty walk.

  Putting it off wasn’t going to make it any nicer though, or make his mood any better.

  He wasn’t the only grouchy bear on the property either. He glanced to his right at Knox and Lowe, could see by their faces they were as pissed as he was by the disturbance. Having the three of them tired and grumpy would only make all of them worse in the long run, would bring out the bear in them and cause them to bicker and fight, destroying the peace they normally enjoyed. So as much as he despised the thought of dropping down into three feet of snow, he was going to have to do it.

  Gods, he was glad Rune and Maverick had gone to Vancouver for winter as they always did, the two of them travelling to a bolthole they shared there. Neither of them was the sort of bear to sleep the months away, preferred to be awake through winter, but like him, they didn’t like snow. Saint had once made the mistake of convincing them to stay at Black Ridge for winter, had denied the urge to sleep so he could stay awake with them.

  It hadn’t gone well.

  They had made it to December before Rune and Maverick had gotten into a brawl so bad he had feared they would kill each other, and then all three of them had holed up in their individual cabins until the snowmelt. It had been the longest damned winter of Saint’s life. He hadn’t been able to sleep, had stayed awake to make sure Rune and Maverick made it to spring.

  He scrubbed a hand over his beard, hoping like hell things didn’t end up that bad this time. If they couldn’t get back to sleep, ended up having to stay awake, then he wasn’t sure he would be able to keep his cool and smooth the edge of his own mood to maintain order within their makeshift pride.

  As it was, he was itching for a fight.

  If Knox or Lowe tried to start anything, just looked at him the wrong way, he was liable to blow his top.

  Knox kicked the snow off his deck, grumbling, “I’m tempted to go deal with whoever is making all that noise.”

  “Rein it in, or I’ll be tempted to deal with you,” Lowe muttered as he finished pushing the last of the snow off his own deck, piling it up around the thick wooden pylons that raised the cabin off the ground.

  It wasn’t like the usually laid-back Lowe to be grumpy. Normally, the ash-blond bear took things as they came, rolling with whatever life threw at him without worrying too much. Saint blamed Knox’s mood. It was his brother�
��s agitation that had Lowe on edge too.

  Lowe always got like this whenever Knox was fired up, felt a need to weigh in and have his twin’s back.

  “I’ll go see what the deal is.” Saint turned away from them and murmured under his breath, “Just got to get through this crap first.”

  He huffed and took the first step down from his deck, forced himself to keep going when the next one was hidden by snow. His pride needed him to do something, and he would do it. He would make the cougars shut up so he and his kin could get back to sleep, and when he woke, all the snow would be gone.

  He held on to that fantasy, filling his mind with images of green grass and warm sunshine as he trudged down the steps. It shattered as he fumbled for the final step and slipped, had to grab the railing behind him and brace himself to avoid falling on his backside.

  Saint growled as he pushed away from the steps and waded through the deep snow, heading for the forest that would lead him to Cougar Creek. He glared at the field of white as it sparkled, the weak sunlight reflecting off it enough to almost blind him. As it was, it made his eyes water again, and that moisture felt as if it was turning to ice in his eyes.

  There was nothing magical about winter.

  He huffed and snarled as he pushed forwards, ploughing a path through the snow. At least he wouldn’t get as cold and damp on the way back, after he was done murdering whoever had woken him and his kin.

  If he somehow managed to rein in the urge to spill blood, maybe the fresh air and struggling through the snow would tire him out enough that he could sleep when he got back to his cabin.