Rescued & Ravished: An Alpha's Conquest (A Paranormal Ménage Romance)

by Sophie Chevalier

  Bear spray.

  Bear spray. Bear spray. Of course.

  “Hey, bear,” she said as calmly as she could manage, talking to it coolly like the safety books told you to do. “Hey, bear. Easy, now. Easy. Don’t mind this canister. Don’t mind the tag popping. I’ve got something for you, since you wanna start a fight. Just a little something.”

  Chapter Four

  Clearing out a shed was the last thing Chance wanted to do, especially with the Season being so close and fogging up his mind. But Jason’s word was law, and so here he was, clearing out a shed.

  There were a lot of things in there that could serve as weapons, things he kept carrying in to Gentian and Egan’s mudroom and stacking there. Shovels, walking sticks, ropes, a hacksaw, a foldable saw, a crowbar, flares, a lantern and oil and matches, an ancient sander. All things you would not want a hostile creature to get their hands on.

  It was hard to stay focused, especially with memories of his dream flitting through his head: a beautiful young woman, curvy as a fertility goddess, soft and pale and blemishless with round, powerful thighs and high, full breasts and thick, blond hair—

  Fuck. He had to adjust himself; his thick cock was pressing insistently against his jeans. Where do I get me one of those girls?

  “Chance?”

  He almost jumped. “Whoa! Gentian?”

  “I brought you some food.” Gentian was a kind, sweet lady with long, greying brown hair. “Acorn cakes and scrambled brown eggs. I put on some chicory as garnish, but if you don’t like—”

  “Oh no, that’s wonderful, thanks.” He was holding a random lid in front of his crotch, counting the seconds until his hard-on went down. “You didn’t have to.”

  “Well, of course I did,” she said warmly, pleased he liked her spread. “I can’t let you go hungry out here while me and my man take a meal inside. And you replacing our lock and everything.”

  “Thanks, really.”

  “In fact, would you like to come inside and sit with us? It’s looking like rain. I’m sure it will get cold out here.”

  He considered that. The sky was getting awfully dark and angry looking. Spring storms in the Rockies were ferocious as tigers.

  “Well, I feel bad saying yes when you brought the plate outside already, but I think I’ll take you up on that.” There was already the soft, sprinkling hush of rain starting further down in the valley. “Thank you.”

  “Not at all! It’s always nice to have a visitor. Especially a young person. We’ve missed ours ever since they went West.”

  It was the natural order of things for some of the clan’s children to get restless and leave, or to find mates from far away at a packmeet and go off with them. That was what had happened with Gentian’s children, Maple Blossom and Finn. Their parents only saw them at the Gathering every few years.

  “The pleasure’s all mine. Let’s go in before the rain starts, huh?”

  He closed up the shed since it’d been stripped of everything usable for violence, put an arm around Gentian’s shoulder, and guided her back inside. There was a monumental crack of lightning far away; he knew the storm would be here soon enough. It was a good thing all the clan’s cabins were built in the thick of the pines, so the trees could be lightning rods instead of the roofs.

  He had to worry about Hudson and Dove, though. He hoped they would get back to the clan soon, and out of the weather.

  ***

  Gentian and Egan were kind people and just a little bit lonely, so Chance spent much longer with them than he’d planned to, from lunch on to supper. At least they kept him away from Briar, or Briar away from him, whichever.

  Gentian was serving up dinner—pine nut bread and rabbit stew—while Egan was retelling old stories about hunts and packmeets from his youth. He’d encouraged Chance to smoke with him, and shared out a pipe and a lobelia-bearberry smoking blend.

  “There were more wild bears in those days—I don’t mean us, I mean animal bears—and they made good neighbors. You were forever coming across ‘em in the forest. They understood us and we understood them. I don’t know what’s happened to make ‘em so much scarcer. It has something to do with cities an’ humans, I expect—”

  Rain rattled the windows. Gentian set the stew bowl on a wood underliner on the table. Chance took a drag, half listening to Egan and half worrying about the range runners.

  Hudson could take care of himself, and so could Dove, he knew that, but still. If they weren’t back by the time he left to go home, he’d go looking. Just in case.

  “Love, what do you think?” Egan asked his mate. “It’s the cities, isn’t it? It’s humankind? That’s what’s done away with all the animal bears, wouldn’t you say?”

  “I don’t know. I suppose that must be it. I do know that dinner’s ready, though.” She patted Chance’s broad shoulder. “Don’t you hold back now, eat as much as you want. I know what young men’s appetites are like! Especially this close to the Season!”

  “Lord, is the Season tomorrow already?” Egan asked, puffing. “Time just flies away.”

  “It does,” Chance agreed. “And thank you both for having me all day. This food looks better than I know how to tell you, Gentian.”

  “You’re a good boy. Now—”

  The cabin’s front door slammed open, cracking against the inside wall. Chance and Egan leapt to their feet, ready to fight, but it was only Dove, white-faced and soaked.

  “Dove!”

  “Is that Dove?”

  “Oh, Dove, darling! You’re all wet—”

  “Chance!” she cried, ignoring the others. “Come out! Now!”

  “What’s happened?”

  “Now! He said now!”

  Chance squeezed Gentian’s hand—she looked afraid—and then moved around the table to the door. Dove gripped the front of his shirt and tried to drag him out onto the creaky porch faster, forgetting he was at least five times stronger; he pulled the door closed behind them.

  The weather was bad. A cut of lightning lit up the valley, arcing wickedly across the sky. Rain drummed down, cold and thick.

  “You cleared the shed? You changed the lock?” Hudson was there. He was standing on the porch, naked and muddy and—

  Chance did a double-take.

  Hudson was carrying a girl.

  She was slung over his shoulder like a sandbag. He couldn’t get a good look at her, but the shape of her, the curve of her thighs. He swallowed.

  Now he looked around, there was a hiker’s pack slung to the side of the cabin door which Egan was opening, holding a lantern. That must be the girl’s. Had Dove carried that while Hudson carried the girl?

  “What’s going on?” Egan asked, frowning. “My God! Is that a girl?”

  In the lantern light, Chance could see that Hudson’s eyes, nose, and mouth looked raw; the gold in his eyes was shimmering dangerously.

  “Did she spray you, brother?” Chance asked, shocked.

  “You bet she did,” was Hudson’s terse answer. “The shed, Chance. Is the shed clear? Can I put her there?”

  “What happened to her?”

  “Slid and hit her head, trying to run from me,” Dove whimpered, looking overwhelmed. “The slopes get so slick when it rains.”

  “Couldn’t just leave her,” Hudson said, squeezing the girl’s rainjacketed middle. “Even if she sprayed me right in the fucking face with that… that poison.”

  “No,” Chance agreed. “You couldn’t. The shed’s cleaned out, come on. Egan, can I have that lantern? Thanks. Dove, don’t follow us, go get Ivy! Tell her to bring her healing things!”

  He carried the lantern high, lighting his and Hudson’s way through the driving spring rain. The wind was making a whipping sound through Gentian and Egan’s garden; he could hear the goats complaining in their shack and the chickens gossiping in their coop.

  There was the shed. It wasn’t locked; he shouldered it open, put the lantern on a dusty
shelf, and gestured Hudson in.

  “Shit. No bed?”

  “No. Didn’t get around to making something up. Hold on, I’ll get her pack. She had a sleeping bag strapped on, didn’t she?” He was gone before Hudson could argue, racing across the slippery yard to the porch and back again with the pack. It felt like it would be heavy doings for a human girl to carry, she must be strong. “Here. It’s in a waterproof roll, it—”

  He stopped dead, midsentence.

  This was the girl from his dream, he was sure of it. In the lantern light, he could see her clearly for the first time: blonde, beautiful, and built like a fantasy. Wide hips, generous thighs, a small waist.

  “Chance? Are you listening, man?”

  “What?” He blinked. “Sorry. What were you—”

  “She’s pretty, I know,” Hudson said, direct as always. “But stay focused. It’s true the Season’s got us stupid, but we have to clean her up and settle her.”

  “Right. ‘Course.” He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears; it was too fast, too hard. Hudson thought he saw the girl as merely pretty. He didn’t know that Chance had dreamed her. What did that make him? Did he have the sight? Was it just coincidence? “How’s she feel? Cold?”

  “Cold? I don’t know.” Hudson gripped one of the girl’s hands from where he’d laid her out on a worktable. “Kind of. She doesn’t feel dead, though, if that’s what—”

  “Out of my way.” Suddenly, Ivy was there, shoving through them. She still smelled like onions. “This must be her. Move back, Hud, I—oh wow, your face. You’ll be patient number two.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Hudson muttered, moving back.

  Ivy held her palm close to the girl’s face, over her nose and mouth, then she leaned over her, listening to her breathing. Dove had come up behind them and squirmed through the shed’s doorway, squeezing herself up against the wall behind Chance.

  “Well?” Hudson asked.

  “Hush.” Ivy tilted the girl’s head back gently.

  “What are you doing?” Dove asked, sounding frightened.

  “When you’re unconscious, you can’t control your muscles. You know what that means? It means you can choke on your tongue,” Hudson explained, darkly. “That’s why she’s doing her like that, Dove. To keep her tongue outta her airway.”

  “Why is she in this shed, Chance? Is this where Jason told you to put her?” Delicately, so delicately, Ivy felt for the girl’s pulse in her neck. She sounded disapproving.

  “It is,” Chance said, frowning slightly.

  “She’s human, Ivy,” Hudson said sharply.

  “She sprayed Hud, too,” Dove put in.

  “Yes, that’s all obvious,” said Ivy, disinterestedly. “But she’s wet and she’s unconscious and she should be in someone’s home on a bed. No, don’t move her now! We don’t know what circumstances her brain is in. Dove said she hit her head—she did hit it, didn’t she, Dove?—so we… oh!”

  All of them stared suddenly down at the girl.

  “Is she coming around?” Chance came close to Ivy, but she put a hand on his powerful chest to keep him back.

  “Don’t crowd me! Both of you men, get back! She’s only human. I can handle her!” She pointed toward the still-half-open shed door. “Dove, go and get Jason! Let him know what’s happening!”

  Dove hesitated, but then she went at a run.

  The unconscious girl’s blond eyelashes fluttered and then opened. For a second, her eyes were just whites, but then they were bright blue.

  “Can you hear me, sweetie? Don’t move,” Ivy said smoothly. “You’re alright. You’re safe, honeycomb. Stay down.”

  The girl stared at her, her blue eyes focusing. Chance had seen that color before, they were the same blue as the mountain forget-me-nots that bloomed up above the treeline. It was a beautiful blue.

  “Who are you?” she asked in a thin, blank voice.

  “I’m Ivy. I know medicine.” Ivy was staring into the girl’s eyes, critically She covered one eye, then the other; then she held up her hand. “How many fingers?”

  “Four.”

  “Four, right. What’s your name?”

  “Harper. Harper Hanson.”

  “Alliteration. Cute,” Hudson murmured to Chance. Harper’s eyes drifted to the side to follow his voice.

  “Harper,” Ivy said. “Do you feel sick?”

  “No.”

  “Can you feel me touching your hand?”

  “Yes?”

  “Can you feel this? This?”

  “Yeah. Yes.”

  Gingerly, Ivy ran her hands through Harper’s hair, checking for damage to the skull. She peered at her ears and nose.

  “Do you wanna sit up, Harper?”

  “What about the bear?”

  Chance glanced at Hudson, because he was the bear. But as he did, something occurred to him.

  “Hey. You better get inside and tell Gentian this girl will need a warmer bed.” He leaned in closer. “Also, I don’t think nudity’s passable where she comes from, Hud. You better go before she sees you!”

  “Shit. You’re right,” Hudson muttered back. “See you in a bit.”

  “Don’t think about bears, honeycomb,” Ivy was saying to the girl. “Sit up—easy, easy. We’re going to get you somewhere warmer. Let me have a look at your neck.”

  “I’m cold. It’s freezing.” Harper sat up slowly, stiffly. “Where’s… where is this?”

  “You’re still in Banff,” Ivy said nonspecifically. She moved Harper’s hair to look at the back of her neck. “Let me know if you want to hurl.”

  “I don’t… think I do.” Harper’s eyes, set in frames of thick blonde lashes, landed on Chance. Nervous heat flooded his body. It was half due to the Season, half due to something else. “Who’s that?”

  “Nobody special,” Ivy said, throwing Chance a wry look. “His name’s Chance.”

  “Chance MacFadden,” he corrected her, wanting this girl to have his full name. She blinked at him with her bright blue eyes, suspicious and afraid. “Do you think you can walk? I can carry you.”

  “Carry me where?” Harper asked, frowning.

  “He’ll carry you inside,” Ivy said smartly.

  “This is ‘inside,’” Harper pressed. “Please, I want something more specific. Where are we? Where am I?”

  “Don’t worry about that yet,” Chance said in his best, most reassuring voice. “You’re safe, you’re with friends. We just want to make sure you’re well before anything else.”

  That calmed her down a little, but he was already seeing future problems. She was too inquisitive. It was a good thing he’d cleared out this shed, much as he hated to think it.

  “Here, we’ll help you,” Ivy said, gripping Harper’s arm and helping her slide off the workbench. “How are your legs? How do you feel?”

  “Now I feel a little sick,” Harper admitted, thickly; Chance was at her side immediately, putting an arm around her and holding her up.

  “Just lean on me. We’ll get you inside.”

  Having the girl so close to him made his head spin. She was soft and warm and her hair, even wet, smelled like some kind of fruit; his cock stirred obscenely, stupidly, and he thought not now—but they got her through the storm and across the yard, up onto the cabin porch.

  “Gentian!” Ivy shouted. “Open the door and get out some linens! This girl’s drenched!”

  “Where am I?” Harper asked again, sounding ill as Gentian flung open the door.

  “Shush up, honeycomb. First let’s get you in and get you dry.”

  Chance didn’t want to let go of her but he did so the women could lead her inside.

  He wanted her back right away. The girl from his dream.

  Chapter Five

  “Start from the beginning.”

  Jason was seated at the head of Gentian and Egan’s dinner table, his pine needle tea untouched. To his right was Galangal, the
elder; then Chance, Egan, Dove, Hud, and Ivy, who were also there and seated around the rectangle. Gentian was in one of the cabin bedrooms with Harper, helping her wash off.

  “We were circling back to the notch—Ouch, Ivy, damn it!” Hudson cringed as Ivy wiped down his face with milk. She was brusque about it, medical. “Go easy!”

  “Don’t whine,” she said, unmoved. “And keep your eyes open.”

  “We were circling back to the notch when we spotted her,” Hud went on, frowning. “Smelled her first, actually. She smelled like humans always do—lotta synthetics, some cosmetics. You know. Anyway, she was coming up the slope towards the clan.”

  “Alone?” Jason asked, tense.

  “Alone,” Hud confirmed. “I thought I should run her off. I tried to.”

  “Then she sprayed him,” Dove said, looking green. “It was awful, actually.”

  “Awful for me,” Hud muttered. Ivy scrubbed at his eye.

  “Do you think she knew of us? Was she coming here for us? Was she looking for us?!” asked Galangal, suspicious. He hadn’t touched his tea, either.

  “She looked lost when we saw her,” Dove said, gnawing a finger. “Really lost. Dirty, actually, and kind of drifting, and her face was a little bit sad. And when she saw Hudson! She was scared. She was really scared.”

  “Still, her aim was damn good,” Hudson said, finally pushing Ivy away. “She’s got a steady hand. Beaned me good. Maybe she is a hunter.”

  Chance tried to think if the girl had said anything proving that she wasn’t there to hunt them, but she hadn’t.

  Still, he didn’t think she was. He wouldn’t believe that.

  It’d been years since they’d even heard a whisper of a Hunter in Banff—human trackers who’d made it their mission to eradicate shifters—and he couldn’t imagine that one was here now. There’d been no rumor of danger from further up or down the range; some other clan would’ve warned them if a Hunter was in the territory.

  “Maybe,” Jason said conservatively. “We haven’t heard of one bein’ up this way for years. Did she say her name?”