“Grab hold!” he yelled over the din. Vivian grabbed the slick rubber, grasping and pulling herself up as Laurence heaved her the rest of the way. He pulled himself out of the water with incredible strength, toppled into the life raft, and fell on his back, panting.
They watched as the ship sunk into the churning black water. Laurence’s face was a mask of shock and disgust. Vivian’s heart broke for him in that instant. All that mattered to him was gone.
He lay back and put his hand to his forehead, his chest still heaving. As soon as the last trace of the ship disappeared below the stormy sea, the rain cleared. The clouds parted and the sky became bright azure blue.
Vivian blinked up into the sunshine. Magic. Her ex-husband Harold’s magic. She leaned back on the raft as it bobbed on the gentle waves, in total shock and at a complete loss. Laurence looked stricken, but his expression soon changed.
He began looking around, inspecting their position, gazing at the sun and the direction of the waves. He pulled a paddle from a compartment in the life raft and began to move them through the rocking ocean waves.
“The island is that way, less than a mile. I’m sure of it.”
Within a few minutes of Laurence paddling, an island came into view. It was like a green beacon shining in the vast landscape of sea. Vivian shivered, soaked and weary. She wanted to cry, but didn’t have the strength for that.
Thank God for Laurence and his knowledge of the ocean. If it had been someone who didn’t have his experience or bravery, she was sure she’d now be dead.
He pulled them ashore over the last of the waves lapping against the beach. He directed her out of the boat as they reached the shore. Vivian stomped through the breakers, her clothes weighing on her as the water dragged her down.
Finally, she reached the shore and collapsed in the cool damp sand. Laurence dragged the life raft up the beach to a dry place, above the high tide line. He put his hands on his hips and surveyed the area. Vivian watched him, barely able to move.
“Come on. We need to get a fire going and get these clothes off, or you’re going to get hypothermia.”
He pulled her to her feet and she followed him, shaking violently, above the high tide line. He began to pull his clothing off. First the jacket and shirt, then the rubber pants. He’d lost his boots out in the waves.
Vivian stood there, holding herself as she shivered, her teeth chattering. She watched his taut muscles flex as he removed the last of his clothes, down to his boxers.
“Take them off, lady, or you’re going to be hating life. Can you heal yourself when you’re nearly dead?”
“No,” she said, her teeth knocking hard in her mouth. Her shaking fingers tried to grip the zipper on her jacket and pull it down. Laurence frowned and unzipped it for her. He removed the rest of her clothes as if she were a child, leaving her in her bra and panties.
“Should take those off too, but they’ll dry quick enough. We need a fire. I’m going to get some dry wood. You stay here and try to keep warm.”
He moved off into the dense forest beyond the shore and Vivian sunk down into the sand. Still shivering like a leaf in the wind, a tear fell down her cheek. Now she knew for sure what lengths Harold would go to. She had to send him away to prevent him from doing it again, or she would never be free of him.
Laurence came back a few moments later with a big load of sticks and arranged them in a pile in the sand. He began rubbing two sticks together, holding one down with his feet as he twisted the other between his hands.
“You’re going to start a fire like that?” she asked, her voice chattering.
“Got any better ideas?” he said, looking up at her darkly.
Vivian pointed her finger at the pile of sticks and muttered one of the most elementary spells witches learn as children. The pile burst into flames. Laurence raised his eyebrows at her and drew his lips to the side of his face.
“Why didn’t you say you could do that in the first place?”
“You didn’t ask.”
They moved closer to the fire and soon became warm and dry. Laurence constructed a frame out of sticks and placed it over the fire for their clothes.
As they waited for their things to dry off, Laurence continuously went to the woods to gather logs and sticks for the fire. When the sun tilted toward the western water, their clothes were finally dry.
Vivian put hers back on, but Laurence pulled out of his sandy boxer shorts, revealing his impressive manhood. Vivian’s eyes shot wide open at the sight, and then was confronted with something even more impressive as he began to shift.
“What are you doing?” she asked, shocked
“We need food and water. I’ll be able to find it more easily in bear form. Stay here.”
“No way. I’m not staying here alone.”
“Have it your way. Carry that water jug that washed up on shore.”
Laurence shifted. His body contorted, rearranging as fur grew from his skin and his face became elongated. Before her stood a massive grizzly bear, the size of a small truck. Her heart instinctively jumped as fear and adrenaline pumped through her veins.
He approached her, sniffing the air around her before his nose nearly touched her crotch. His big black nose and wet mouth sucked in her scent. Vivian stood stock-still, frozen in place until the bear pulled away.
Its black eyes seemed somehow contemplative as the animal turned and ran into the forest.
Chapter 7
Damn. How could a witch smell like a mate? Laurence trotted into the woods, following the scent of fresh water. The woman trailed behind him, stomping through the forest like a clumsy child. She’d scare off all the prey for miles around. He growled and loped through the woods toward a fresh water stream.
The scent grew stronger as he came to a clearing. He could hear the sound of a babbling brook as he broke through the trees. Vivian followed him onto the rocky shore. She twittered behind him, going on about how lucky they were to find it. It wasn’t luck; it was his nose.
They’d have to boil the water, or she’d get sick. Unfortunately, they didn’t have a pot to boil it in. They’d have to use condensation instead. It took longer but it would keep the woman from getting giardia. The last thing he needed was her bellyaching about an aching belly.
He shifted and stood naked before her as the breeze blew down the creek bed and out to sea. Her eyes grew wide as she gazed at his bare body. He could smell her arousal, sweet, spicing and inviting. His cock twitched as the bear inside him rumbled.
Down boy. This witch is not for us. He tried to tell his inner beast, but the beast only growled and rumbled inside him. His bear sure wanted the curvy, red-headed witch. No matter how much Laurence was repulsed by the idea of even touching one of her kind, his bear wanted to mount her right then and there. It had hardly held back while he’d sat with her, nearly naked, on the beach.
“We’ll have to use condensation to purify it,” he said, trying to distract himself from the rumbling within. Vivian pulled her eyes away from his half-erect cock and knelt by the stream.
“I can purify it,” she said, filling the jug with water.
“Good. It’s for you anyway. My bear can drink his fill of unfiltered water without getting sick.”
Vivian placed her hands on the water jug and closed her eyes as she muttered words under her breath. A shiver went up Laurence’s spine. Magic made him uneasy. It always had. He sniffed he air. He smelled prey.
“Go back to camp when you’re done. I’m going to get us food.”
“But…” she began to protest. Laurence growled as he shifted, baring his teeth. She recoiled, the smell of fear rolling off her shoulders. “Okay. I’ll go back…” she said behind him as he trotted into the forest. He followed the scent deeper into the woods. It was a wild boar. Its flesh would keep them alive on this god-forsaken island.
Why had he ever agreed to take that woman out to sea? As far as he was concerned, witches were the scourge of the earth. Since a witch had
cursed his mother when he was a child in Alaska, Laurence had avoided the hags like the plague. It wasn’t until Vivian had approached him by the harbor the other day that he’d even interacted with one since. But the moment he’d smelled her, his bear insisted he tear off her clothes and lick every inch of her curvy, sexy body.
He growled, thinking of the sight of her in her bra and panties. He’d barely been able to contain himself. Those hourglass curves in her wet, white underthings, drove him wild. Laurence had been keeping his bear under control all day. Now that he’d shifted, the beast inside could not be contained.
The need for food drove him deep into the forest. He would bring the woman the flesh of a wild boar. His animal instincts pushed him to provide for her. The human mind at the back of his thoughts sighed in disgust. How could he be so at odds with himself? His beast and his man had never been in such disagreement, especially about a woman.
Laurence’s paws pounded over the forest floor, following the scent of boar. He rooted out its den, sniffing around in the underbrush. He could hear its breathing and sense its heartbeat.
A moment later a juvenile boar charged at him from within a thicket of branches, squealing and baring its sharp teeth. Laurence gave the animal a whack, and it went flying back with a sharp screech.
He lunged on the creature, biting its neck quick and fast. A metallic tang flowed over his tongue as the boar’s lifeblood dripped from its body. The animal wasn’t used to predators on the island.
Laurence dragged the meat back to camp and found Vivian sitting by the fire, her heart thumping with panic and her stomach grumbling with hunger. He could smell her fear. He could also smell her attraction.
He shifted, wanting to drown out the hypersensitivity he felt in bear form. Quickly, he pulled on his clothes, trying to avoid Vivian’s hungry gaze.
“Thank God. I’m so hungry. You’ve really saved my life today, Laurence. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
He let his claws extend from his fingers and ripped the meat out to place over the fire. The scent of roasting pork filled the air and Vivian groaned. He sat down across from her and turned the cooking meat as it browned on each side.
“We need to build a signal fire after we eat. There should be ships by here a few times a day. I’m surprised we haven’t seen any yet. Most likely, we’re spending the night here.”
He looked out at the sun as it dipped down toward the water. They only had a few hours of sunlight left. He couldn’t sit around camp and smell this witch. His bear was barely under control. He wanted her. He wanted her now.
Not only did his bear want to take her, he wanted to mate her and keep her forever. The ridiculousness of it made him hot with anger. Of all the completely inappropriate women to mate with, this witch Vivian was the absolute worst.
Sure, she was cute and curvy. Sure, she seemed like a decent enough person and had saved his cat. But she was a witch, and all witches were alike. They would curse you as soon as look at you. He’d learned that a long time ago. You can’t trust a witch, and you certainly can’t mate with one.
Chapter 8
The charred pork lapped over Vivian’s tongue. Her stomach grumbled as the food went down. Almost drowning had a way of making a person hungry.
The shock of the boat sinking and seeing Laurence naked and turn into a bear had left her wide-eyed and flighty. The taste of food in her mouth was bringing her back to her senses. Soon she would ask Laurence to help her find the black myrtle leaves she’d come for.
Laurence stood and stormed off into the forest. A few moments later, he came back with an armful of branches and dropped it beside the fire. “I’m going up on that rise to build a signal fire. You can stay here.”
“No. I’ll come with you. I still haven’t found what I came for.”
“What do you need anyway?”
“I need the leaves of a black myrtle. They only grow on this island and up on the islands in Puget Sound. It’s for a very important spell.”
“You cursing someone?” he asked bitterly. Vivian shrunk down. How did he know she was basically cursing Harold to hell? The guilt of it lapped against her throat and seeped into her stomach.
“No,” she stammered, but it was a lie. Her shoulders slumped. She followed Laurence through the forest and toward the cliff that rose high above the sea.
“Do you know what this black myrtle looks like?” he asked, turning back to look at her as he hiked through the forest in bare feet. Vivian could see fur half sprouted from his skin as his feet took on the look of hard paws.
“It looks like a regular myrtle, only the leaves are almost black.”
They continued through the forest and began to climb in elevation when Vivian spotted the tree. She scrambled up the mossy rise, over gray stones and fallen branches, to where the wide trunked tree grew from the dark soil. Its many twisting branches dripped with moss, and tiny ferns grew from the crevices in the wood.
The tree’s leaves were waxy dark green, so dark they appeared black. Vivian grabbed a handful from a low hanging branch and shoved them in her pocket.
“You got what you need?” Laurence asked. “We don’t have much light left. Come on.”
They continued up the rise until the forest cleared and Vivian could see the edge of the cliff the island was known for.
“Let’s start dragging some wood to the edge of the cliff,” he said, hefting a heavy branch in his strong hands. Vivian helped him carry branches and sticks until they had a ready bonfire.
“When we see a ship, we hurry up here and light this fire.”
“I can light it from the beach. That isn’t a problem.”
He nodded at her, skepticism in his eyes. “You’re sure. I don’t want to be stuck out here because you overestimate your abilities.”
“Yes, I’m sure,” she answered grumpily. She was getting tired of his attitude toward her. Even if he did save her life, she was too tired to be treated this way. What did she expect from a shifter? They were all the same––animalistic bullies.
Even his sister-in-law had been a bully in high school. She hadn’t said anything about it before since she was trying to make friends, but she’d avoided most shifters ever since dealing with them as a kid.
Laurence and Vivian began walking back down to the beach through the dense forest. Vivian followed him, unable to avoid the sight of his tight, round ass under his dark jeans. In Mystic Harbor, it was difficult not to run into shifters of every type, but she didn’t have any as friends. Laurence’s behavior was reminding her why.
No matter how completely sexy his big muscled body happened to be, and no matter how much her mouth watered when she’d seen him naked, she would not let herself be attracted to this man. She glanced at his broad shoulders, and her body betrayed her. He turned to look at her and sniffed the air. Frowning, he growled.
“Let’s hurry before it gets dark,” he barked at her.
She frowned, but she followed him down the hill and back to the beach. All at once, the sun seemed to plummet to the sea. Colors drew across the sky––orange, pink, and yellow mixing with the pale blue and growing violet of the oncoming night.
The brilliance of the sunset colors filled Vivian’s heart with longing and joy. She and Laurence both watched the bright orange sun sink into the waves, silently sitting on either side of the fire.
She wished she had someone she loved to share this with. Her heart hurt when she thought of her lost chances at love. The man she’d believed would be the one for the rest of her life had turned out to be a psycho freak who only wanted to use her power.
A silent tear slid down her face and she wiped it away. She’d given everything to Harold, and now all he wanted to do was control her, own her, and use her for his own evil ends.
Was there something about her that was just unlovable? Why hadn’t she ever found someone who just wanted her for her? Marietta had found a good man. Could she be so very different from her sister? Maybe she was just
fundamentally damaged, and that was why Harold wouldn’t leave her alone.
After the sun sank and darkness consumed the landscape, the air turned cold. Her clothing had dried, but she shivered from the early spring chill and lack of blankets. How was she supposed to sleep in this cold?
“We’ll have to huddle together for warmth,” Laurence said irritably. He stood, looking annoyed and disgusted. Yet another man who thought she was unworthy. She sighed and lay down on her side. Laurence lay behind her, spooning her close. “If we don’t sleep like this, you will end up with hypothermia. I’m not trying to cop a feel or anything. It’s for your own good.”
“Heaven forbid,” she said, sarcastically. Her self-esteem was already dipping, and the last thing she needed was a lecture on how Laurence really didn’t want to touch her. He grumbled and shifted behind her, getting comfortable in the sand. Vivian squeezed her eyes shut tightly and tried to sleep.
In the night, she woke to the feeling of Laurence’s manhood stiff against her back. A surge of desire ran through her core, and she tilted her butt back to graze over the hard flesh pressing against her. She felt him stir behind her, turning slightly to press harder into her backside. He groaned and sniffed her neck, his mouth and nose touching the tender flesh behind her ear.
Desire ran through her. Consequences seemed so very far away. The fire still burned beside them, warming the front of her body while Laurence’s massive form warmed her back. His sharp teeth brushed her skin and she groaned. “Laurence,” she whispered, her breath heaving.
“Do you want this?” he asked, his voice full of gravel. His animal was so close to the surface. Vivian could feel his claws and teeth sharp against her skin.
She fought with herself briefly. Laurence had saved her life, more than once, but he’d been an ass to her most of the time. Vivian bit her lip, instinctively pushing her ass against his hardness. Laurence slipped his hand under her shirt, his sharp claws puncturing through her bra. The pricks of pain mingled with the growing pressure between her legs.
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