The Complete BBW, Shifter, Paranormal Romance Reader

by Becca Fanning

  Normally, this would have been like pushing against a brick wall. But my arms flexed with new strength, my hips carrying the power from my legs forward. His eyes shot open with surprise as he toppled backwards off the bed, his legs up in the air.

  I heard laughter from behind me and spun around. “How dare you!” I bent low, ready to attack Sven. I didn’t know what was coming over me.

  “Peace! Peace!” he said, his hands open to the side. His laughter stopped. “Forgive me, my Grace. I meant no offense.”

  “We’ve not known our first day of the Change since we were babes,” Helmut said, standing up. “It’s much different for you, and we will be more mindful of that.”

  I stood between the two men, my chest heaving. My rage was fading, replaced by embarrassment over my actions. “I’m…I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about,” Sven said. “Helmut’s fared worse.”

  “Not by much,” I said, rubbing the tender bruise forming on my ass.

  Clarissa looked over at me, her anger subsiding and replaced with a look of sympathy. She opened her mouth but closed it without saying anything.

  It would be like this. Her Change would be a thing of difficulty even in the best of situations. And this was far from the best of situations. Our Pack wasn’t expecting us to bring home a human-born Grace. They were expecting a Shifter of some noble lineage, a union to establish political ties.

  That’s how it’s always been done. Packs intermingle, they intermarry. This ensures good breeding stock and alliances against outside threats. But lately it seems like there were more threats from within.

  These thoughts ran through my head as we all got dressed and packed our things. Sven and I hadn’t even unpacked, so we were ready in moments, meeting Clarissa out on the train platform.

  “Something is amiss,” Sven said, looking over at me.

  I sniffed the air, searching for the familiar scents of our Pack. Nothing. No one was here to greet us. The entire Pack should have been here, to receive us. “Where is everyone?”

  “What’s wrong?” Clarissa said, looking from Sven to me with concern.

  “Our Pack should have been here to welcome us,” Sven said. His eyes scanned the area, his hackles up. “To welcome their new Grace.”

  “Their absence is concerning,” I said.

  “It’s not concerning, it’s alarming,” Sven rebutted.

  “Well, there’s no point in worrying until we have a reason to worry,” Clarissa said. “Are we going to stand here with our panties in a knot or are we going to go find out what happened?”

  I looked over at Sven, his eyebrows raised. We shared a grin.

  “The truck is this way,” I said, walking off towards the train station’s long term parking lot.

  We drove for over an hour, through meandering roads and dirt paths. The woods all around were deep, old wood forests. Massive evergreen trees reached up to the sky, their wide bases making them look unnaturally large. Where there weren’t trees, there were meadows. Beautiful groves, streams and clear rivers. Helmut’s truck rumbled along, taking turns with a bit more speed than necessary.

  “Hey, slow down a little bit,” I said, bracing myself in the back seat as we made a tight corner without slowing down.

  Helmut grunted, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. The truck slowed a little bit. His long brown hair was pulled back behind his ears. He was focused on the road ahead of us, his hands moving to dodge any fallen tree or other debris. We launched over wooden bridges and smashed through overhanging branches.

  The boys had been grown quieter and more fixated the closer we got to their village. They were on edge, which made me on edge. I couldn’t help it: it was like some survival sense that linked us. Our emotions were all mixed together, our scents like broadcasts of our feelings.

  Sven kept running his hand through is short blonde hair. He scanned the trees that rushed by, ready for danger. His broad shoulders reminded me of his power, his gift of protective aggression. I didn’t envy anyone who got in his way. “There,” he said. He pointed ahead of us, where the trees gave way and a group of wood cabins stood.

  The buildings were all wood log cabins, but with a modern style. They had A-frame roofs, large bay windows and big porches. They were painted a variety of cool autumn colors, everything from dark green to light brown. A dozen of the buildings were visible from the village entrance as we pulled up.

  More pressing, however, were the large group of people assembled in the village center. I didn’t need to see their eyes to know that they were all Shifters: I could sense it. A hundred men, women and children all gathered together, looking at our truck.

  “Well, at least we know where everyone is,” Helmut said.

  This didn’t seem to improve his mood.

  “What’s going on?” I said.

  “Good question. Let’s go find out,” Sven said, opening his door and stepping out.

  We followed. As soon as I stepped out I was assaulted by the pungent smell of unease. It was a complicated smell coming from these Shifters. Not panic and not quite personal fear. It was more like a dread, like some storm was over the horizon and headed their way.

  Their body language matched their moods. I saw hunched shoulders. I saw people standing, not quite facing their leaders. Little things that normal humans overlooked in polite society: these things took on incredible meaning in Shifter Packs.

  Helmut stepped forward to embrace a man. I saw a family resemblance: a cousin perhaps.

  “It’s good to see you,” the man said. He was a bit older, but still handsome. His black hair was touched by thin streaks of gray.

  “And you, Uncle. It was a long few months away from home,” Helmut said, his eyes scanning the others around them. “We expected you at the train station.”

  “Aye, we would have been there. But there’s trouble,” he said. His golden eyes landed on me, “Is this your Grace?”

  “This is our Grace,” Sven said, emphasizing the word loudly.

  Helmut’s Uncle nodded, then sighed.

  “What’s the trouble?” Helmut said.

  “It’s Klaus and Kraven,” his Uncle said. “They’ve challenged you.”

  I saw a single vein throb in Helmut’s neck. “Openly?” he asked.

  “Yes, openly!” A man’s voice shouted from the other side of the group.

  The group of Shifters parted, and two men stood at the other end. They were both tall and blonde. Brothers. The older one had been the one who spoke. He held one eye nearly shut as he spoke. “We heard about your failure to find a…” His words died when he saw me.

  The younger brother looked nervously to his older sibling. “You said they failed!” he said quietly.

  “Shut up, you moron!” a high pitched voice said. Behind them, an old woman stood. Her white hair still grasped at a ghost of blondness. Her eyes found mine, burning with hatred.

  My hair went on end, my hackles rising. This woman meant me mortal harm. No words were exchanged, but her look spoke murder as surely as any words could. “Who is that?”

  “My name is Helga, you shmetleren whore,” she said casually.

  I didn’t know what that word meant, but the context was clear enough. I lurched forward, my body reacting to the threat. A huge hand landed on my chest. I looked over to see Sven.

  He shook his head gravely.

  “Is this your wish, Klaus? You challenge us for leadership of the Pack?” Helmut said, addressing the older brother.

  “We’re sick of your failures. Some desperate trick has brought you to bring back a shmetleren. We thought you’d have the sense to come back empty handed. Failed but pure of spirit,” Klaus said, looking over at me with disdain. “Instead you bring her. Fearing shame, you bring her weakness to our Pack.”

  “You can speak of weakness, but those are just words,” Sven said. He tore off his shirt, his black tribal tattoos moving over his body as he rolled his neck and should
ers. “I tire of words.”

  The younger brother, Kraven, bared his teeth and stepped towards Sven. I could tell he had a violent demeanor, an ease to his movement. He stopped short at a growl from Klaus.

  “The challenge has been made,” Helmut said calmly. “We accept your challenge. Sven will defend the honor of the Pack. We will meet you in the grove under the moon tonight.” Through gritted teeth he added, “Go in peace.”

  “You are a meddling tramp!” Helga yelled at me.

  “Enough!” Helmut’s uncle said. “You’ve got your wish, Helga. May the ancestors have mercy on you.”

  “You’ll be the one begging for mercy before this is done, Ezekel,” she said, turning to stomp away. Her sons followed her.

  “This was not the welcoming party we’d hoped for,” Helmut said.

  I shrugged, trying to play it off. In truth I was riding the knife edge between fight and flight. I didn’t understand the Shifter society, but I could understand the stakes easily enough. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins and I was ready for anything.

  “You did well,” Sven said, picking up his shirt. “Helga’s been cursed by jealousy her whole life. She thought this was her chance. She thought we’d show up without a Grace.”

  “She didn’t count on you,” Helmut said to me. “Yes, you did well.”

  Clarissa looked reassured. I could see her visibly relax, her shoulders releasing a certain tension. She was shaken, but she put on a brave face. That was such an important trait for a Grace.

  Most everyone else dispersed, small groups chattering back and forth. I felt bad for them: they deserved solid leadership, someone they could follow without second thought. I’d slipped up more than once, but I’d be damned if the Pack fell into Helga’s hands.

  I tried to get my own emotions under control. Sven was still on edge, ready to have the Challenge right here and now. But that was just his nature. He sensed a threat and wanted to end it. I didn’t deserve such a good man. “Let’s get ready for the feast.”

  “Feast?” Clarissa said. “We’re going to have a feast? Now?”

  “Of course,” Sven said. “Tradition says the whole village will have a feast in your honor tonight.”

  “But what about the challenge?” she asked.

  “That will be afterwards. No point dying on an empty stomach,” Sven said, grinning.

  Clarissa looked horrified. “What? You could die?”

  I shot Sven an angry look.

  His grin vanished. “No worries, Clarissa,” he said, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “It’s just an expression.” His eyes met mine.

  Clarissa relaxed. She wiped at her eyes and straightened her shirt. “A feast sounds lovely,” she said.

  “It tastes even lovelier!” Sven said, smiling. He bent down and scooped up his luggage and Clarissa’s. “This way,” he said.

  “I’ll be right behind you,” I said. I watched Sven and Clarissa head off toward our longhouse, the massive cabin that dominated the far end of the village.

  I walked over to where my Uncle leaned against a tree.

  “What a shit sandwich,” he said, sharpening a stick with a small pocket knife. “Didn’t help you bringing a human-born.” He shot me a look.

  I met his gaze. “She’s our Grace. It isn’t like it’s the first time we’ve had a human-born in a leadership position.”

  “None of us were alive the last time it happened,” he said, his knife sending another sliver of wood flying. “That family is dangerous. Helga is the real threat, but her sons are stupid enough to do whatever she asks.”

  “You don’t need to tell me,” I said.

  “And she still blames you for Luka,” he said, scratching his chin.

  “Luka had to be put down,” I said, my voice unwavering. I’d never had anything against her husband, but regular violence turned some Shifters into berserk madmen. Luka had faithfully served my father, but all the violence and killing had turned him feral. Rabid. “I had no choice.”

  “I know, boy,” he said, nodding. “Doesn’t mean much to her, though. She’s been waiting to pull this for years. She’ll go to great lengths to see her sons in power.”

  “Her husband serves her more in death than he ever did in life. Remember how much she hated him?” I sighed. “I have a favor to ask.”

  He stopped carving the stick and looked at me. “You think Sven could lose?”

  “I have every faith in my Seneschal. I just can’t anticipate what Helga will do,” I said. “If things don’t go well, get Clarissa out of there. I’ll hold them off as long as I can.”

  “It will be done.” My uncle looked off into the woods, his eyes heavy with sadness. “These are dark times.”

  The sun was setting outside, casting an orangish glow throughout the wood cabin longhouse. The tall evergreens cast shadows through the floor to ceiling windows. Every surface was dark wood, including the forty foot table that ran down the length of the cabin. Behind the table a huge fireplace sat, small embers adding a nice warmth to the room.

  I sat at the center of the long table, waiting. Sven and Helmut had given me a crash course in how the evening would proceed, and what was expected of me. A part of me wanted to be overwhelmed, to surrender to the panic that threatened to overcome me. Everything was so new and so strange!

  “Are you ready?” Helmut called from the entrance.

  “Look at her. She’s more calm than we are!” Sven replied, flashing me a wide grin.

  “I’m ready. Just…just let me know if I make a mistake,” I said, wiping my hands in my lap. They were clammy. Sweaty. Not the best way to make a first impression.

  “Don’t fear a life of mistakes,” Helmut said from across the room. “Fear a life where you didn’t try.” Then he opened the large double doors.

  I could see a mob of people waiting outside. In a long line, running back through the village, they waited to be received. To honor me, their Grace. I fixed my eyes on the plate in front of me, admiring it’s grooves and scrollwork.

  I still didn’t understand why I was chosen. The words from Helga earlier gnawed at me. Did Helmut and Sven choose me out of desperation? To avoid the shame of failing their mission?

  “Clarissa?” Sven called from the door.

  I looked up and gasped. A man and his wife knelt in front of the table in front of me. How long had they been there? Fuck!

  “Umm…” I said, standing. “By the light of the moon, I see you. My gaze will never waiver. By the howls in the dark, I hear you. My ears will always listen.” I swallowed, growing more confident. “By the softly blowing wind, I smell you. I will never leave your side.”

  “We are honored to have you, Grace,” the couple intoned, then stood. Their faces were composed and polite. But not warm. Their uneasiness was evident as they took their seats at the far end of the table.

  Another family walked up to the table to kneel. This repeated itself dozens of times. Each face was the same: polite and cold. How you would react to a tourist. To an interloper.

  I was in such a whirlwind of emotions I didn’t realize it when Klaus, Kraven and Helga knelt before me. I could smell their disdain. Helmut and Sven stood to either side of me, their closeness giving me strength. I looked up at Helmut.