by Clara Moore
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Highlander Bear Love
By: Clara Moore
Chapter One
Kendell
They chased her. Kendell Proctor ran deep into the woods, the thorny branches clawing at her dark blonde hair and sun-kissed skin. She had thought she’d gone in the direction of the road, but as the trees grew thick around her, blocking out the day, she realized she’d made a terrible mistake. She was lost in the woods, lost in the territory of those who hunted her – the wolves. It was only a matter of time before they caught up to her muddy footprints.
This was not how the weekend was meant to turn out. Needing a break from the city, she’d come to the woods with her friends for a girls-only glamping trip. Her friends didn’t know she was missing. They thought she was flirting with the basketball player a few tents down. As Kendell ran for her life, her friends were sitting in their pretty canvas tent, painting their nails and gossiping about college life.
Kendell wasn’t in college. Her family didn’t have the money to pay for it. But none of that mattered at the moment. The only thing that mattered was getting away, no matter how impossible it seemed. She was strong, but the wolves were fast. She’d only managed to get this far because their paws couldn’t climb up the rocky hillside she had earlier.
Close by, a wolf howled.
God no, she thought, frantic. Please, no. I’m so tired of running…
Steering right, she hoped to find a tree she could climb, but she ran straight into the side of a cave, with no opening in sight. She was trapped against the rock. Backtracking meant delivering herself to the wolves. Staying meant letting the wolves find her.
Refusing to make things easier for them, Kendell stayed and searched for a weapon, finally finding a large branch to use as a club. She was just in time. Three wolves broke through the dark of the woods, walking slowly towards her, playing with her, their eyes yellow and hungry.
“Stay back!” she screamed, and she swung at the wolf closest to her, but it grabbed the branch in its bony jaws and tore it away from her hands.
This was it. Her fate. The wolves had finally found her. Too exhausted to fight anymore, she fell to her knees, surrendering to their will. Death would be merciful right now, but she doubted they would kill her. Not straight away.
The woods around her began to go black. She thought the sun had eclipsed, until she realized it was her exhaustion overwhelming her. I’m going to pass out, she realized, but she tried to hold on. Once again, she would not make things easier for the wolves.
They circled her, closing in, making sure she truly was finished fighting, delighting in their conquest. Wolves did not speak, but she could see their satisfaction. They had won, and they knew it. Finally, ending her misery, one wolf lunged towards her.
He didn’t reach her. An enormous brown bear barreled into the wolf, coming from the woods. The wolf fell on its side, whimpering. The others sneered at the bear and snapped their jaws, preparing to attack. To showcase his absolute strength, the bear stood on his hind legs and roared. He was massive, a god amongst the creatures of the forest.
He proved his point. The wolves went running, scattering into the forest. Kendell would have cried from relief, but she didn’t have time. Her exhaustion dominated her and she passed out, falling to the leaves on the ground the way the rain fell before a storm.
***
Dermott
An Hour Earlier
There was nothing better than fishing. Dermott sat on the pier of the lake his house overlooked, his fishing pole in hand. The waters of the lake were calm, like his spirits were. The lake was his refuge, much more real than the pretentious chatter and power meetings of his company in the city. Escaping the city for the weekend, he had gladly traded in his briefcase for a rucksack. He just wished it was for more than a weekend. That was the consequence of owning a billion-dollar company– he had lots of money, but he had very little time.
Perhaps, if he had more time, he could finally find his mate. The house by the lake was his refuge, but he was starting to notice the emptiness of the halls. He wanted a family to fill it, but that wasn’t possible when his company needed his attention.
The line on his fishing pole grew taut. A catch. He reeled it in, using his burly strength to wind the line, pleased when a large salmon surfaced from the water. It wouldn’t go to waste. He’d give it to his housekeeper Mary to fry for dinner that night.
Setting the salmon in the cooler nearby, he traded it for a cold bottle of beer. He took a refreshing sip, staring across the lake. It reminded him of where he’d grown up in Scotland. The lake and the woods were very much like the Highlands where his family came from. That was why he’d purchased the historic home by the lake, buying it off an old family friend. He’d wanted a piece of home.
He took another sip of his beer, but this time it tasted fowl. It wasn’t the drink; there was a stench in the air. Wolves. They were near. He could smell them from miles away. Wolves and bears did not get along.
There was no point confronting them. As long as they stayed away, they weren’t his problem. That was until he heard a woman scream out to the wolves, clearly under attack. Abandoning his beer, Dermott ran from the pier towards the woods, transforming into a beast well able to handle a wolf.
***
Chapter Two
Kendell
Two things occurred to Kendell as she woke. The first was that she was not wearing her own clothes. A man’s collared dress shirt covered her luscious curves down to her knees. The second thing that occurred to her was that she was free. The wolves hadn’t gotten to her. She’d escaped them, thanks to the bear who rescued her.
She wasn’t sure where she was at, but she assumed the bear had something to do with it. A leather sofa had been her bed, but it was large and cushioned, more comfortable than most mattresses she had slept on. The room was an old study with bookshelves that stretched high above her to the vaulted ceiling. Some of the shelves contained novelties that looked as if they belonged in a medieval castle, such as the swords crisscrossed together and the aged apothecary bottles. At the center of the study was a giant banner of blue and green plaid that took up half the wall it was draped across. Imprinted onto it was an emblem of a gold bear. The plaid added warmth to the room, made it feel full and lived in.
Kendell left the sofa and went to the tall window that gave the room light, her bare feet padding softly against the wood floor. The summer sun simmered over a beautiful lake, having only just risen.
I must have been out of it all night, she realized, shaking out the tangles of her long dark blonde hair.
On the stand beside the sofa, her phone buzzed, pulling her away from the window and the beauty of the landscape it overlooked. As soon as she answered, her friend Emily took control of the conversation. “Where are you?” she demanded. “We thought you were
with that hot basketball player, the one who had invited you over for s’mores. My god, the noises coming from his tent last night… it made the whole campsite want to join in. I was gonna pass down my title of Sexy Bitch to you, but I just saw a brunette step out of his tent, her hair all sexed up.”
Emily stopped, as if a thought just came to her. She lowered her voice. “Wait, are you in there with him? When he asked you over for s’mores, did he mean for you to be the marshmallow between the cracker and the sweet stuff? Was this a ménage à trois?”
“No,” Kendell answered, looking towards the door of the study, thinking of the bear who rescued her. “I found someone else.”
“Damn, girl. These boys are tripping all over your curves. When are you going to listen to me and become a plus-sized model? You’re too beautiful to be a wielder with your big hazel eyes and kissable lips. Don’t tell my boyfriend, but you’ve always been my girl crush, so if you do ever want to go all Katy Perry, make sure–”
Kendell wasn’t listening. A man had entered the study carrying her clothes. He was gorgeously delicious, with dark brown hair and chiseled features. He stood tall, his muscles flexing through his green thermal top, which matched the color of his eyes. He was built strong – like a bear.
“I gotta go,” Kendell said, keeping her eyes on the man as she ended the call.
“Good morning,” he greeted, his voice deep and heavily accented.
“Those are my clothes,” she said, indicated the pile of folded laundry he held. It was the best she could muster. He made her want to rip the dress shirt she wore off, her bare skin an invitation to do more than just rescue her.
“I had my housekeeper wash them,” he explained, setting her clothes on the sofa. Then he quickly added, “She dressed you, after I brought you in. I apologize that you had to sleep in the study. The house is big, but none of the rooms were ready, still full of dust. We don’t get many visitors.”
“So you must spend a lot of time in the study,” she speculated, pulling on her jeans as she spoke, not caring what he saw. “You know, because there’s no dust.” She left the dress shirt on. It was like a gown on her, but she felt safe wearing it, protected. And it smelled good – earthy, like him.
“I do spend a lot of time here,” he admitted, studying her with an intensity that would normally make her shy, but with him she welcomed it. “I like to read, when I’m not fishing.”
“Or saving women from a pack of wolves.”
He looked uncomfortable. “I didn’t save you. I found you in the woods.”
He was a terrible liar. It made her like him even more. “It’s okay,” she asserted. “I know about shifters. My cousins are shifters. They get it on their dad’s side of the family. I know you are the bear who saved me.”
She couldn’t read how that made him feel. “So you know the wolves that chased you were shifters too?” he asked.
“Yes. I do.”
“Why were they after you?”
It was her turn to feel uncomfortable. “I don’t know,” she said, looking down. “Because they’re wolves. That’s what they do. I came here on a glamping trip with my friends. I wasn’t expecting to be chased in the woods by wolves like some chic in a bad fairytale.”
He smiled, his teeth brilliantly white against his tan skin. “Glamping?” He was mocking her.
“I’m sure you know what glamping is. Look at this place. You some gazillionaire or something like that, Mr. Fisherman?”
“Dermott,” he introduced. “Dermott O’Donnell. And yes, something like that. I have a company in the city. It does well.”
“I live in the city too,” Kendell revealed. “But probably far from where your company is. My family isn’t poor, we get by, but we live in the same home my grandparents did when they immigrated to America from Holland. The neighborhood has gone downhill since then.”
She didn’t know why she was telling him her family history. Probably because she was fascinated by his. Based on his accent and the décor of the room, she guessed he was from Ireland. Maybe Scotland.
“Holland is a lovely country. Have you been?”
“No, not yet,” she said. “One day, maybe.”
A silence fell between them. It wasn’t awkward, but within it Kendell realized she might be overstaying her welcome. “I guess I better go,” she proclaimed, reaching for the remainder of her clothes, still refusing to take off the dress shirt. He had mula. Dermott could buy another one.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he stated, standing tall with authority, much taller than she was. “Not with the wolves out there. It wasn’t a random attack. They acted with intention. They were tracking you.”
“That’s strange,” she muttered, hugging her clothes tight. “I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I,” he said. “But until we figure it out, you should stay here. I’ll keep you safe, Kendell. They can’t touch you here.”
***
Staying had not been her intention. If she stayed, her friends would kill her. It was meant to be a girls-only weekend. A bit of fun at night was one thing, total abandonment was another. But better her friends kill her than the wolves that hunted her. Her friends would get over it. The wolves would never stop trying.
“Okay,” Kendell agreed. “Thank you, I’ll stay, but I have one condition.”
“A condition?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Feed me. I’m starving.”
Dermott laughed. “Good. So am I.”
Next to the door was an intercom. He pressed a button, and a few seconds later a woman answered, her accent similar to his. “Yes, Mr. O’Donnell? What can I get for you?”
“I picnic basket, please, Mary. For two. We’ll be heading down to the lake.”
Soon after, they were sitting side by side on the pier, their legs dangling above the water. The day was warm but not scorching, a sign that summer was waning. Kendell liked this time of year the best, where being outside wasn’t a burden because of the heat but a luxury. Breathing in the fresh breeze off the lake, she almost forgot about the wolves.
“Have you ever been fishing?” Dermott asked her.
“Not unless you count diving for pennies at the bottom of the swimming pool.”
He was skeptical. “Do you really do that?”
“When I was a kid. Not anymore. Not unless I’m really desperate,” she joked. “So how do bears fish? Do you jump into the water or something?”
“No,” he protested, and he reached under the blanket he had carried down and pulled out two fishing poles. “Bears fish the same way everyone else does. With patience and beer.”
“I like the beer part,” she said.
In response, he opened the picnic basket and handed her a bottle. “It’s on the house.”
“Aren’t you going to have one,” she asked, opening the top and taking a sip.
He shook his head as he readied his fishing pole. “No. Not with you to protect.”
Kendell took another sip, smiling inwardly. “So why is the house so empty? Can’t you buy friends?”
“I prefer to be alone when I’m out here,” Dermott professed. “In my company, I’m constantly surrounded by people. It’s maddening.”
“What about your family? Surely you can make an exception for them.”
“They’re back in Scotland watching over the estate.”
He said estate, but she sure he meant castle. He was just being modest. “And a wife?” she asked casually, trying to be cool.
“No time,” he answered, troubled, and he cast the fishing line. Kendell watched as it flew far out into the lake, propelled by his mighty strength. “It upsets my parents. They want me to settle down and marry a bear shifter, a Scottish lass to keep the bloodline pure. The settling down part, I don’t mind. I’d like that myself. The other part– not so much. You can’t have a mate chosen for you. That’s not how it works. It’s like trying to fry a fish with air.”
He was visibly torn over the is
sue, so she moved on to another topic. “How does it work, shifting? I’ve never really asked my cousins about it. I mean, like how do your clothes come back when you turn human again? Shouldn’t they be ripped to shreds? Is it magic?”
“I don’t think so,” he said, steadying his fishing pole. “I think it’s just a science we don’t understand yet.”
“I wonder if any of my coworkers are shifters,” she mused, setting the beer aside. A few sips were enough.
“What is that you do?” he asked, clearly happy the focus was back on her.
“I’m a wielder.”
He laughed loudly. It echoed across the lake, like a stone rippling in the water. “A wielder? Like in the movie Flash Dance?”
Kendell rolled her eyes. “I have no dreams of being a professional dancer.”
“Shame,” he said. “You’ve got killer curves.”
She pushed him hard, but he barely budged. “Easy, tiger.”
“Bear,” he reminded her.
They spent the entire afternoon out on the pier, feeling no hurry to return to the house, anchored outside by the lazy sun. Kendell was generally mistrustful of strangers, but Dermott had proved himself by saving her. She knew she could trust him. She felt easier around him than most people she crossed paths with in the city.
Only when the hard wood of the pier became uncomfortable did they meander inside, Dermott carrying two salmon he had caught. They went to the kitchen, which was much more modern than the rest of the house – well, mansion, if Kendell was being completely honest. His house was a formidable country mansion with tall, narrow windows and a lot of history, history she hoped to learn more about. The exception was the kitchen. It was newer, renovated recently enough, with its steel appliances and large island where the stove top was.