Summer Shifter Days

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Summer Shifter Days Page 63

by V. Vaughn


  Just as her own climax hit her like a freight train of pleasure, Brock leaned down and placed his sharp teeth around the sensitive flesh on her neck. Her mind so hazy with pleasure, she barely felt the pain as his extended canines pressed harder against her skin. She whimpered when the tips broke through. She felt his tongue lapped over the blood seeping from her neck.

  The relentless thrust of Brock’s hips did not lessen as he bit deep into her neck. Ginger could barely breathe and clung to him for dear life. She knew it was coming. She could feel it--the change.

  He bit deep and hard, and gripped her hips tightly in his hands as his flesh smacked into hers over and over again. In that moment of heightened sensuality, a vision washed across her mind’s eye. She could see her own bear barreling towards her, roaring and growling to be heard. Brock’s teeth bit hard. She could feel blood seeping down her neck and his tongue lapping it up. He wrapped his arms around her, and held her as close to him as he could get her.

  As her body wanted to come to climax again, Brock’s cock grew inside her. If she could have cried out, she would have. But his teeth around her neck seem to have stopped the sound from coming out of her throat. All at once, he shot his seed inside her, his teeth still gripped tight around the curve of her neck. The light and fireworks and emotions seem to spark and ignite, exploding all around her and through her. An intricate web of love and desire wrapped around and through her and Brock, binding them together for all eternity.

  Breathless and mindless as she lay there, she felt Brock’s teeth slowly loosen their grip on her skin. He slid from inside her and licked the wound on her neck, before he rolled over to lay with his back on the bed. His arm was still around her, and he pulled her against his chest, stroking her hair as his heart beat hard under her cheek.

  “Was that it? Did you do it?”

  “Can’t you feel it?”

  “I think so. I think I saw my bear inside my head when you bit me.”

  “That’s normal,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow.

  “But I don’t feel any different.” She gripped him and gripped her own hand, assessing the pain and stiffness.

  “You won’t really feel different until after the first shift.”

  “When will that be?” she asked, suddenly feeling even more nervous than ever.

  “Tonight is a full moon. We could do it now. Or wait a month. You just have to go out into the moonlight and will your bear to come forward.”

  “Did you claim me?”

  “Yes. When I bit you and made love to you, I claimed you at the same time.”

  “What exactly does it mean that you claimed me?”

  “It means that all of their shifters will know that you are mine. It also binds us together for the rest of our lives. Once mates have claimed each other, they can feel each other more closely, especially in animal form.”

  “I’m really curious to see how that feels,” she said.

  It was all so new and strange, but suddenly she felt more courageous and more comfortable with it than she ever had before. She wanted to see what it felt like to be a bear. She wanted to know what it felt like to be connected to Brock in the way he just explained. It sounded magnificently intimate, and she wanted to share it with him.

  “Let’s do it now then,” she said. “I want to know what it feels like to be that close to you.”

  “Come on,” he said, reaching down to take her hand as he stood from the bed. She took his hand and let herself be led downstairs and outside through the sliding doors onto the patio that looked out on the gardens. Beyond the garden was a thick forest, bathed in moonlight.

  “Freezing out here,” she said, rubbing her hands up and down her arms to try to warm herself.

  “You have to be naked to shift, and you will be called when you’re shifted. Let’s step down onto the lawn and let the midnight kiss your skin.”

  They walked down the patio stairs and into the frost covered grass that was going into dormancy. She shivered violently in the cold, her feet feeling like frozen blocks.

  “Just let it come,” Brock said. “I’ll shift first. I’ll be here for you when you make the change.”

  She watched him as he contorted in the moonlight and stood beside her on all fours, furry and fanged. She felt a sharp pain in her gut as the moonlight bathed her face. She screamed as the pain sliced through her. She felt Brock’s tender, solid presence beside her, and it gave her the strength to withstand the pain. All at once, it was as if her body was torn apart, limb from limb, in every direction. Thrashing and screaming, her body grew and extended. She landed on all fours, looking at the world with new eyes.

  She could feel Brock inside her mind. The connection he had told her about was definitely there. It seemed as if she could sense all of his thoughts and feelings. She could sense how deeply he loved her and how intimately connected they were to each other. The tender web of love that bound them together, made them as one.

  The other glee she felt inside her heart translated through that connection, and she could tell that Brock could feel her. With a thundering roar, Brock broke out into the forest, and Ginger followed him.

  19

  When the spring rains had come and melted all of the snow, the daffodils broke through the hard ground. The Montgomerys were planning a baby shower at the lodge, and Brock had kept the surprise from Ginger for almost a month. He drove her up to the lodge under the pretext of grabbing some supplies from the store, and asked her to come inside to help him pick them out.

  She followed him up the front steps of the lodge, the weight of her ripe belly causing her to waddle. They came through the front door of the lodge where everyone stood with smiles plastered over their faces. He’d told them not to scare the hell out of his pregnant wife, but the Montgomery clan was clearly having a hard time holding it together. Half of them screamed, “Surprise,” while the other half waved a “HAPPY BABY SHOWER” sign around in front of them.

  Even the men had turned out for the event, Montgomerys not being the kind of clan that would miss a gathering that involved free food or a chance to try to one up each other. Ginger gasped and held her heart and belly with both hands.

  “You guys!” she yelled at them, once she got over her initial shock. “What the hell? I told you not to go to so much trouble.”

  “Ginger, we just needed an excuse,” Brock’s mom said, coming to give Ginger a big warm hug.

  “Okay, okay. I get it. You all just want a reason to cook some steaks and drink rum.”

  The Montgomery men laughed, and his mom and Aunt Lola gave each other a knowing look. They had both been human once, women brought into the clan just like Ginger. Brock’s mom had lived a happy life, and he wanted the same thing for his own wife. His mom took Ginger’s hand and led her over to a couch by the fire where she could relax and watch the men being silly.

  A huge pile of presents covered one of the tables and another was covered in food and cake. Brock brought Ginger a plate and sat across from her on an easy chair. The rest of the party wandered around, eating and talking. After they’d had lunch and desert, his Aunt Lola insisted that it was present time.

  Brock watched Ginger’s pretty face as she opened the presents his clan had given her. Everything from little wash clothes to car seats and cribs. They’d have everything they needed, and Ginger wouldn’t have to worry for a second about any of it. He had his gift still in the car and whispered in her ear, over the back of the couch, that he would be right back.

  She smiled up at him and said, “Okay,” before he left to get it. He’d been searching all over for just the right thing. It wasn’t really for the baby, but it was something he wanted to give her now.

  Ginger had gotten a job as a substitute music teacher, and had started jamming with some musicians on the weekends. But he knew it wasn’t enough. Ginger deserved something bigger, better. Now that her hand had healed, he could give her everything she wanted.

  He came back inside with the gif
t under his arm, his heart racing. He didn’t know much about these things, but hoped he’d done a good job finding the gift.

  “What’s that?” his mom asked.

  “This is a gift from me to Ginger. I wanted to give it to her now,” Brock said.

  His Aunt Lola grabbed the package and brought it to Ginger, sitting beside her. His mom sat on Ginger’s other side, and the two women watched as Ginger began to open the wrapping paper.

  “What is it?” she asked him, excitement in her eyes.

  “You’ll see. Just open it.” Brock could barely stand it. He had to sit down and wait for her to open it or his legs would’ve given out. He felt like a giddy schoolboy giving a flower to his first crush. Ginger was so much to him; it made him even more nervous.

  She slid the paper off the black back of the case, revealing it to the world. She gasped, flipping open the clasps.

  “I know you already have one. But this one is what you deserve,” he said as she pulled the Stradivarius out of its case. Her face was a mixture of terror and unbridled delight.

  “Are you kidding me right now, Brock?” she said, giggling uncontrollably.

  “Do I look like I’m joking?” he said, chuckling at her excitement.

  “He gave you a gift. Just accept it,” Keaton said.

  “You don’t understand, this violin is worth like...” she started but Brock cut her off.

  “They don’t need to know, babe.”

  She stood from the couch, wrapping paper falling to the floor from her lap. With eyes so bright with bliss and joy, Brock would never regret his investment for an instant. She stepped in front of the fire, with the whole family watching, and quickly tuned up her instrument. A moment later, Brock watched his gorgeously pregnant wife play the most hauntingly beautiful song he’d ever heard.

  As he watched her, his mind turned to the night she’d held his hand and sung to him in the darkness. He would never forget her sweetness. He knew, from that moment on, that Ginger’s music would always heal him of any trouble or pain he could ever have.

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  Chance - Selene Charles

  Bears of Kodiak

  Three Brothers. One mating ritual. Equals one wild, sexy night...

  Chance Hawthorne only knew one thing in life...mating wasn't for him. He might be forced to endure the bloody ritual, but that didn't mean he had any plans to settle down and make baby grizzlies.

  Until the day he meets Bronwyn Crow and all bets are off. He wants more than just her body for one night of fun, he plans to make the woman his future, the only problem now is convincing her that she wants him too...

  Copyright March, 2016 Selene Charles

  Cover Art by Croco Frauke

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  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning, or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Selene Charles, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in the context of reviews.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Selene Charles. Unauthorized or restricted use in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patent Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2016 by Selene Charles, Colorado Springs, CO United States of America

  Created with Vellum

  1

  Chance

  “Get out of here, you filthy crow!” Chance Hawthorne tossed a jagged piece of timber at the beady-eyed crow that’d been making a pest of itself for the past two weeks. The splintered wood thunked off the corner of the tin roof, falling harmlessly to the forest floor.

  That damn crow had been picking through his garbage cans, tearing open the bags, and scattering crap on the forest floor by his home. The scraps of litter might as well have been a dinner bell, signaling the vermin in the woods to come get whatever it considered to be valuable treasure. At the moment, Chance was more than just a little fed up with all of them.

  Today, the crow had gone after a string of red yarn. The dangling thread looked more like a floppy, blood-soaked worm, clutched between the bird’s black beak.

  The raven-hued feathers ruffled briefly, and in one smooth motion, the bird transferred the yarn from its mouth to its foot then screeched at Chance. Several times. Snapping its beak loudly, and hopping from foot to foot on the ledge of the roof, its beady little eyes looked almost angry. But that wasn’t possible… Birds had brains the size of walnuts. Besides, he hadn’t actually hit the thing.

  It continued on, so loud and awkward-sounding, that all of Chance’s anger fizzled. That bird was sassing him.

  “The hell?” He chuckled, dragging fingers through his unkempt, shoulder-length hair as he watched that miniature ball of fury hop back and forth on the roof, giving him a piece of its mind. Then swooping down, the bird picked up something in its beak and tossed it at him.

  Its aim was unerringly accurate. The sharp sting of a pebble smacking into Chance’s cheek made him wince. “What the hell?”

  He rubbed his cheek. That bird was insane. When it dipped its head again, as though to toss something else at him, he decided to get while the gettin’ was good.

  Dodging the crow’s pebble attack, he glared hotly at the stupid animal. Something was mighty wrong with that bird.

  Chance might have stood out there all day, amused despite the fact that crazy creature had it in for him, if his brother August hadn’t poked his head out the door, glaring at Chance with frosty blue eyes.

  “Chance, hurry the hell up already,” he snapped before shutting the door behind him with a not-so-subtle slam.

  Rolling his eyes, Chance muttered beneath his breath, not wanting to go back into that house just yet. He and his brothers were on wee
k four of their self-imposed hibernation, a grueling but critical step they had to endure before the coming ritual.

  He was restless as hell and tired of staring at the same four walls. Not to mention the fact that even during the best of times, grizzlies hardly acted like the teddy bears that fairy tales had made them out to be. Whining, swearing, and growling had been all they’d done these past few days. And yeah, no baths either. The cabin smelled like ten-day-old gym socks.

  He wanted to go hunt and eat. Even that freaking bird was looking tasty right then. He could bag a few of those, pluck ‘em, roast ‘em over an open fire… hell, he would even eat them raw at this point.

  Food was a driving force.

  But it was forbidden at the moment. Blah, blah, blah… damn mating ceremony was so not worth the constant, gnawing ache in his belly.

  The bird squawked loudly, holding its head high, as though it’d won some type of victory.

  “Yeah, you wish,” Chance muttered. “Come back and steal my garbage again, next time you might just learn what’s for dinner.”

  He realized he probably shouldn’t have said that the moment the crow dive-bombed, screeching loudly as it came at him like a kamikaze.

  The front door opened again, and his dual-color-eyed brother Phoenix growled. Rather than just asking him to come inside like a normal person, his brother curled his fingers around Chance’s collar and dragged him inside instead. Phoenix slammed the door behind them.

 

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