Grizzly Mountain (Arcadian Bears Book 1)

by Becca Jameson

  Antoine held the knife in the air, plunging it toward the side of Isaiah’s chest.

  At the last second, Isaiah lurched to one side and slammed his palm into the hand holding the knife. It flew through the air several feet before landing on the carpet.

  Heather still couldn’t breathe.

  The men fought. They were a good match. Isaiah might have been an inch taller, but Antoine was in good shape, and he had the adrenaline rush of years of hatred on his side. Whatever his perceived wrongdoing had been, it must have been horrific. Rage filled the room like a living thing as Isaiah punched Antoine in the face, making the man stagger backward.

  Antoine yelled a battle cry as he rushed forward, shoulder ducked to slam into Isaiah’s body.

  Isaiah fell against the bed. His attention jerked to the side, though she had no idea what he was thinking as she continued to press backward until she hit the wall and hugged her knees against her chest.

  Isaiah’s hand flew out to grab one of the mugs, and in less than a second hot coffee rushed through the air. It splashed across Antoine’s face, making the man scream out in pain.

  That was the opening Isaiah needed to make his move. His fist raced through the air next, landing so hard on Antoine’s temple that he was forced to stagger backward, shock registering on his already pinkening face. His eyes were wide, his mouth open, and then he passed out, landing on the floor with a hard thud.

  Isaiah wasted no time getting to Heather in two strides. He tucked one arm under her knees, the other behind her head, and lifted her off the floor. As he raced from the room, his face was blank. She knew he was shouting in his head at any member of his family who could hear him.

  He ran straight to the kitchen and set her on the island. His gaze roamed her body. He tilted her head back and to the side. She knew she was bleeding, but didn’t think it was too bad.

  His fingers trailed through the blood where the knife had dug into her skin. “Jesus. Shit.” He didn’t meet her gaze. With one hand on her thighs as if she might fall otherwise, he reached behind him, turned on the faucet, and grabbed a washcloth. Two seconds later, he was wiping the blood from her neck. It stung. She didn’t care. She didn’t even flinch. It meant she was alive.

  Seemingly satisfied about the cuts, he grabbed her chin next and tipped her head to the side. His fingers danced over her shoulder. He was breathing so heavily, and she knew he was holding on by a thread.

  When she realized his intent, she found her voice. “He didn’t bite me, Isaiah. It’s okay.” She would know, right?

  Fear grasped her again, squeezing her chest, and she leaned her head farther to give him a better angle. What if his teeth broke her skin? Was it possible? What would happen to her?

  His fingers were rough, abrading her skin, working feverishly to ensure she was not bitten. He held her steady, staring forever.

  “Isaiah, I’m okay,” she whispered.

  Finally, he released her, cupped her face, met her gaze, and held it. His eyes were pools of the worst fear she’d ever seen on another person. The depth of his fear was beyond what she’d felt, and she’d been the one held in that vile man’s grasp with a knife to her throat and his mouth on her neck.

  Isaiah jerked her toward his chest as if she were a rag doll. He held her tight. Too tight. She couldn’t breathe again, but she knew he needed this moment to feel alive.

  She snaked her arms around his waist and squeezed.

  A noise behind her made her jump and twist her head.

  Wyatt stood in the doorway, out of breath, gasping. Fear covered his features too. “Where is he?”

  “Bedroom. Knocked him out.”

  Wyatt ran that direction just as Bernard entered the house. His gaze followed Wyatt’s departure, and he, too, ran in that direction.

  Heather fell limp against Isaiah’s chest, tears running down her face. She was alive. She would be okay.

  They would be okay.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Heather was curled up on the couch in a ball, a blanket tucked around her. She looked so damn small in that position. Vulnerable. Scared. Shaking. She hadn’t stopped shaking for two hours.

  His mother sat next to her, soothing her with gentle words and the soft touch of her hand. Joselyn sat on the coffee table inches away also.

  Under normal circumstances, Isaiah would be ecstatic to see his mother and sister so dedicated to his mate like that, but instead his heart was scrambling to put itself back together after shattering in fear.

  He glanced at her every few seconds, but he needed to pay attention to the group of men sitting around his kitchen table. Among them was his oldest and dearest friend, Austin Tarben. Also at the table was Austin’s father, Allister.

  The gathering was unprecedented. It had been years since the Tarbens and the Arthurs had come together like this, in one room, other than to argue.

  Allister ran a hand through his hair for the millionth time. “I can’t express how sorry I am for the actions of my son.”

  Austin hadn’t spoken much, but Isaiah knew he was hurting and in distress.

  Bernard spoke to Allister. “You aren’t responsible for the choices your grown children make.”

  Allister licked his lips, pain evident on his face. He nodded. “All the same, I want you to know we’ll make sure Antoine is prosecuted fully. The Arcadian Council is on the way here now to arrest him.”

  In another gesture that made Isaiah’s eyes widen, his father set a hand on Allister’s shoulder and squeezed. “It’s done. Let’s get out of here. Isaiah would probably like to care for his mate instead of continuing to rehash this morning’s events.”

  Allister nodded as he stood. The two men headed for the door at the same time Isaiah’s mother and sister leaned forward, one at a time, to hug Heather’s small frame. And then they followed the men.

  The last to leave was Austin. He grabbed the door frame and met Isaiah’s gaze. His face was pained. “I’m truly sorry, man. I am partially to blame for my brother’s actions,” he said for only Isaiah to hear.

  Isaiah was shocked by his friend’s behavior. “That’s insane. We’ll talk later.”

  Austin nodded, stepped from the house, and closed the door behind him.

  Isaiah rushed to Heather’s side, picked her up, and sat in her spot, cradling her in his arms. The shivering came from deep inside her body. She couldn’t stop it.

  “You promised me a bath this morning. I think I’d like that now. Hot. As hot as you can get it.” She spoke into his chest without looking at him.

  He kissed the top of her head, lifted her, and carried her through the house. He continued to hold her as he turned on the water and plugged the tub. As it filled, he slowly peeled her clothes off. She still wore his T-shirt, but she had added a pair of sweatpants. Her feet were bare, but she’d been wrapped so tightly in the blanket, she shouldn’t have been cold.

  The chill didn’t come from the temperature. It came from fear.

  He dropped the throw on the floor, pulled off her shirt, and then worked her pants down her legs.

  As soon as he determined the water was hot enough for her to slip into the tub, he lifted her over the side.

  She took over, setting her feet down and grabbing the edges. She sighed as she lowered into the water, still shivering. It wasn’t deep enough yet to chase the chill away. “Get in with me,” she pleaded.

  He stood, yanked off his clothes, and slid in behind her. When he was settled with her between his legs, she relaxed against his chest. As the water rose, he held her tight, willing her body to stop shivering.

  “What happened to your cousins?” she asked as they waited for the water level to rise. “Are they going to be okay?”

  “Yes. They’ll be fine. Already coming around.” Antoine had snuck up on them one at a time and jabbed a needle into their arms, knocking them out instantly. How he had grown stealthy enough to block his scent and presence so thoroughly was anyone’s guess.

  It could
be done when someone wasn’t expecting company, but it was tough to so thoroughly mask one’s scent to the extent that two shifters on the lookout for trouble noticed nothing.

  She sighed as the water level rose above her bent knees.

  He rubbed her arms to continue to chase the chill away.

  “What was the deal with your friend? Austin?”

  He flinched. “I’m not sure. He seemed to think he was somehow to blame.”

  She twisted her neck to meet his gaze, her brow furrowed. “You don’t believe that do you?”

  Isaiah shook his head. God, she was in tune with him. She picked up on that even in her shocked state? “I’m fairly certain he knew nothing about his brother’s intentions. He knew there was danger, and he called to warn me. But I don’t believe for a second he had specific knowledge.”

  “He feels responsible though,” she stated matter-of-factly.

  “Yes. It would appear so.” The water was high enough to cover Heather’s chest now, so he reached with his toes to flip it off before it ran over the sides.

  Heather sank down farther, resting her head against his shoulder.

  He cringed at the marks on her neck from the blade, but they were already fading. They wouldn’t be noticeable tomorrow.

  “When did you two become friends?” she asked casually.

  He knew she spoke of Austin. “We were fifteen. I had shifted and run off after an argument with my parents. I don’t even know what it was about now. But I raced high into the mountains. When I stopped to catch my breath and get a drink from the stream, I lifted my gaze to find Austin across from me.

  “For long moments, we both stood there, our chests heaving. And then, as if by mutual agreement, we both shifted. Turned out Austin had had a fight with his brother too and had run off to avoid seeing him again that day.”

  “Antoine,” she stated.

  “Maybe. He never told me. He has another brother too. Alton.”

  She chuckled lightly. “His parents like the letter A.”

  “Yes. His sisters are named Abigail and Adriana.” He smiled down at her, so glad to see her eyes more relaxed and twinkling slightly for the first time since the attack.

  “Go on.”

  “There’s not much else to tell. Austin and I met at that spot often throughout the years. Even though we aren’t from the same family and couldn’t communicate easily over great distances, we had a sense between us. Something that would cause us to know like a sixth sense when the other one needed our help. And we went to that spot. We’re closer than brothers in many respects. I know him better than I know Wyatt sometimes.”

  “Except he has secrets.”

  “How did you get so intuitive?” he asked, frowning down at her. “You’re voicing things I didn’t realize until a few hours ago.”

  She smiled and shrugged. “What can I say? I make an amazing shifter.”

  He shook his head. “In any case, Austin was in the sort of pain I’ve never seen today. He didn’t say anything until he left, but I know he feels unfounded guilt for some reason.”

  “Maybe it’s not as unwarranted as you think. Is that possible? Maybe he knew something for years and never spoke up.”

  “Perhaps, but I don’t believe he would ever willingly put me or my mate in jeopardy.”

  She sighed. “He’ll tell you some day. When he’s ready.”

  Isaiah kissed her forehead. “I’m sure he will.”

  For a long time they continued to soak in silence. Isaiah closed his eyes and tried to calm his still-agitated mind. It was affecting his body, making him tense. If one crazed lunatic was willing to come after his mate, how many more were out there?

  “It’s over,” she stated. “I can feel it. There was a tension in the air from the moment we met. It’s gone now. We’re free.”

  He stared at her. Was she some sort of shaman?

  She giggled and splashed water at him. “It’s just instinct. Nothing else. We should get out. The water’s getting cold.”

  He steadied her with a hand as she stood and then he hauled himself up next to her, pulling the plug on the way.

  As soon as he had them both wrapped in huge fluffy towels, he led her to the bedroom, pulled back the comforter, and settled her in the bed. “My mom must have changed the sheets.” The bed was way too perfect.

  “She’s delightful. I love her already.”

  Isaiah made his way to the other side and climbed in beside her, landing on his back. It was still daylight out, but he needed to hold her, comfort her, chase away the last traces of her chill.

  She pressed her front against his and lifted her gaze. “Now, Isaiah. Do not put me off another second with excuses. I won’t fully relax until I’m connected to you in a way that’s irreversible.”

  He searched her face for any trace of reluctance or doubt and found none. But was she too pumped full of adrenaline to make such a decision?

  She leaned forward, closing the gap between them, and kissed him, a deep kiss that scrambled his brain as she threw a leg over his body and straddled him. She set one hand on each side of his face and continued to kiss the sense out of him.

  He didn’t often find himself in this position with a woman, and he knew it wouldn’t happen frequently with Heather either, but he liked it. He liked the way she took control.

  He let his hand trail down her body and between her parted legs. When he spread her folds with his fingers, he found her soaking wet.

  She moaned. As if she lost her concentration, she let her mouth ease off his and lowered her face toward the pillow next to his ear. Her warm breath made his cock twitch.

  He thought she was floating in a peaceful oblivion, but suddenly she swatted his hand away from her pussy and thrust herself over his cock, impaling herself to the hilt.

  Isaiah groaned at the unexpected way she took control. So fucking hot.

  She set her hands on his chest, lifted herself several inches, and then fucked him. Using her knees as leverage, she plunged up and down over his erection until he saw stars.

  Damn, she was good.

  He set his hands on her waist gently, letting her continue at whatever pace she wanted. He’d never been so aroused in his life. He licked his lips, vowing to bind her to him as soon as he could send the message to his teeth.

  Suddenly, she was flat against his chest again, his cock buried deep. She set her mouth on his neck and nibbled a path to where it joined his shoulder. Without warning, she sank her teeth into the tender skin.

  Incredible euphoria spread through his body. He knew the instant she let her serum trail down her teeth and enter his bloodstream. His lips parted, but the only movement he was capable of was tipping his head to one side to give her better access.

  His cock thickened, and seconds later he came deep inside her even though she was no longer pumping over him. It didn’t matter. The bite tipped him over the edge. His orgasm went on longer than reasonable.

  As soon as he could blink his vision back into existence, he realized she was licking the wound on his neck while grinding her clit against the base of his cock. She hadn’t come.

  He needed to do something about that. After the best fucking orgasm of his life, his mate hadn’t even come.

  He grabbed her waist and flipped them both over without dislodging from her pussy.

  She moaned, possibly unaware of the change in position. Her hands sought his waist and ran up his body as he stared down into her dazed expression. She licked her lips, undoubtedly still tasting his blood in her mouth.

  God, she was gorgeous. And he wanted to reverse the roles immediately. Holding her head to one side, he closed the distance, licked the spot he intended to sink his teeth into, and inhaled her scent. Intoxicating. A drug like no other.

  He nosed the spot next, prolonging the moment, memorizing it. As he set his teeth on her skin, he reached between their bodies and pressed his thumb against her clit.

  She stiffened, from one action or the other or both, and
then she sighed and relaxed.

  Easing his cock slightly out of her while keeping pressure on her clit, he let his teeth break the skin just enough to taste the blood.

  Her arms flew up to grasp his forearm, not to push him away, but to brace herself. Her pussy gripped his cock as she came. And then he let the serum from his saliva combine with her blood. In a process as old as his species, he made her his in every way, lapping at the trickle of blood to seal the wound. It didn’t matter. She’d already taken the choice out of his hands, but it still felt amazing claiming her.

  She would always have the faintest nick marks on her neck. Tiny scars to show anyone who knew what they meant that she was taken. Not that every shifter couldn’t smell the telltale difference in her scent, but the marks were Nature’s confirmation. He would sport them, too.

  When he was done, he lifted his gaze to hers, still pumping his cock in and out of her pussy slowly. “I love you.”

  She smiled back, her mouth so broad her eyes danced. “I love you too.”

  Maintaining her gaze, he continued to make love to her until they both came again. He watched the expression on her face closely, memorizing every nuance. The way her eye fluttered. The way her lips parted. The way she tipped her head to the side again without realizing it opened her neck to him.

  When they were both sated, he dragged his weight off her body and settled next to her, unwilling to leave the warmth of her skin to clean them up. He kissed her gently and then closed his eyes.

  Heather Simmons was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Thank God she’d sprained her ankle. He smiled against her neck.

  “What are you grinning about?”

  “You. And how many more times I plan to fuck you before the sun goes down.”

  “Oh, thank the Lord. I was afraid I was going to have to beg.”

  “Never, my love. Never.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Three weeks later…

  Heather was humming to herself when she stepped in the front door of the cabin she already considered her own. Every time she entered, she felt an overwhelming sense of peace.