ROMANCE: Time of the Werebears (Scottish Historical Time Travel Shifter Romance) (Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance)

by Sky Winters

  “I think it is a fairly generous offer considering she is my wife and nothing to you but a common whore for the taking.”

  It was enough to set Heath off as he lunged forward and took the first strike. Lord MacEwan countered and blocked him, the swords glancing off one another as they moved back into fighting position. Everything seemed to move very fast after that, the two men exchanging blow after blow. It was way too fast for Alva to keep up with as they fought violently in front of her eyes, Lord MacEwan shouting taunts the entire time.

  Suddenly, they were locked into a blow, their bodies pressed against one another as they struggled for control of the battle. Then, Heath was flying backward and Lord MacEwan was standing over him with his sword at his chest. Alva screamed.

  “NO!”

  “Oh, Alva. You hurt me. I thought for sure that here in the end, you would rally around your husband rather than your lover. You truly are a harlot to the end. I had thought that I would let you watch my brother die for your adulterous ways, but he’s my brother. He’s just a man and he has needs that your wickedness took advantage of. I think maybe it is best that he watches you bleed into the ground instead.”

  His attention was focused on her, just enough for Heath to take advantage and jump to his feet, quickly driving his sword into Lord MacEwan’s side. Blood spurted everywhere as he stumbled forward a few steps and staggered. Alva’s eyes grew wide, looking from him to Heath and then everything seemed to shift. He began to change, to grow, right before her eyes. The sword went shooting backwards as his skin rippled and scaled, his nose turning to snout and a tail forming behind him. She took an involuntarily step backwards as she found herself looking at a very large, foul smelling dragon.

  It advanced toward her menacingly, drawing its head back and breathing in deeply. Alva realized what was happening and ran, just seconds before a long flame shot from his mouth, scorching the trees that had been directly behind her. An errant thought that she was surprised he shot fire rather than ice crossed her mind. She was dimly aware of the fact that behind him, Heath too had transformed into a similar beast. Suddenly, he was on his brother’s back, tearing at him as they shook the earth beneath them with their large bodies.

  Alva ran as far away as she could get, hiding in a grove of trees as the two dragons rolled about the moors, their teeth and claws flashing. Fire shot from each of them, attempting to roast the other as they continued their fight to the death. Alva realized that they looked very much alike and that with the constant moving around, she no longer knew which was which. Her heart pounded against her chest as she waited and watched, afraid for Heath and afraid for herself.

  It seemed to go on forever as they fought mightily, attempting to tear one another apart. It all seemed so surreal watching two actual dragons go at it out in the open meadow on a summer day. This was her fault. If she had resisted Heath, he wouldn’t be in danger. She should have just said no and accepted her unfortunate lot in life. Instead, she had behaved like a prostitute and would now pay the price with the loss of the only real love she’d ever known.

  Their bodies rolled across the ground in a terrifying fight. She watched as one suddenly shot down, clamping his powerful jaws shut on the neck of the other. He tore furiously from side to side, ripping open the scales and flesh as the blood poured everywhere. Her heart almost stopped beating as the dragon on the ground grew limp and lifeless. It was over and she was overtaken by fear as she waited.

  Looking around, the victorious dragon stumbled a bit and fell to the ground, exhausted. Alva was afraid to move as she waited. The temptation to see if it was alive was great, but she had yet to know which brother lay dead and which brother just lay. If it was Lord MacEwan that lived, surely she would meet her death if he came to while she was near. Then again, if Heath was dead, what reason was there for her to live?

  Timidly, she made her way from the grove of trees and examined the living dragon for any sign of its condition and identity. Finding none, her fear only grew worse. Tears fell as she glanced over at the lifeless body of the other dragon and wondered what to do next. Beneath her the ground shifted as the dragon by her side suddenly stood and stumbled again. She began backing away, but stopped as she watched it change, shrink, turn back into a man.

  “Heath!”

  “Alva, my love.”

  His voice was weak and he had a look in his eyes she couldn’t quite describe as she ran back to him and pulled him into her arms. He held her tightly, holding onto her as if she were a much needed life source. They remained that way for quite some time, just trying to regroup and sort what happened in their heads and hearts before finally pulling apart.

  “I’m so sorry, Heath.”

  “It’s not your fault, Alva. It’s done now.”

  Heath glanced over toward the dragon that lay just beyond them and cast his eyes downward for a moment in prayer.

  “Will he change back?”

  “No. His heart is stopped. He will remain that way.”

  “Then it will just appear that you have killed a dragon.”

  “To the outside world, I will have slain a dragon, but my family will know. I will have to explain to them what has happened and accept their punishment.”

  “Why? It wasn’t your fault. He came after you.”

  “He came after me because I committed adultery with his wife.”

  Alva looked at him. He was right. In the end, they would be the ones judged. Their love for one another was the most wonderful thing she had ever felt, but in the eyes of others, it was wrong.

  “We were going to run away. We can just go. We can get far away from here.”

  Heath looked at her and smiled a knowing smile. Brushing her hair away from her face, he kissed her forehead and held her some more.

  “Let’s get back. It will be dark soon and we’ll have a lot to deal with. When we get back to the castle, you need to go directly to your chambers. Don’t speak to anyone. I will come for you as soon as I can.”

  “What do you mean you will come for me? What are you going to do?”

  “It will be okay, Alva. Just let me take care of it.”

  They made their way back to the castle in silence, riding side by side through the woods and back into the stable before returning to the castle separately. Alva did as she had been asked, taking to her bed and crying throughout the night. When the morning sun began beaming into the window, she flung herself from bed and dressed hastily before heading downstairs in search of Heath, but he was nowhere to be found. Days passed and he was still absent. Alva’s fears grew and her heart faltered. By the end of the week, she had taken to the bed completely, unable to raise her head.

  “Lady MacEwan, please eat some soup. You have to keep up your strength.”

  Alva looked at the nurse wearily and nodded. She had no appetite. Truly, there was nothing really wrong with her but a broken heart. She could only assume Heath had gone to confess to his family and paid a price from which there was no returning. There was nothing left for her here. The only thing she wanted was to join him.

  In her dreams, she could hear his voice calling to her. He was holding her hand and smoothing her hair softly, whispering her name.

  “Alva, my love. Come back to me. I love you.”

  “I’m coming, Heath. I will be there soon.”

  She could feel herself getting closer, nearing the darkness at the edge of where life ceased and eternity began. It was here that she would find him again. Here that she would find herself in his arms. Their love had been fleeting, but it had been true and she would take it with her when her mortal coil fell free and released her from this hellish life without him.

  “Alva, I’m here. Don’t go, Alva. Wake up. Wake up!”

  His voice was so far away. How could she ever catch him? She was drifting along, nothing to speed her along the path to him. It felt like the most awful torment to be so near and not be able to get to him.

  “Alva! Stop this! Wake up!”

 
; He was louder now and all around her, coming from another direction. Why had he moved when she was getting nearer? She tried to call out to him, but no words would come and then everything seem to move, her body shook though she was standing still in the nothingness that seemed to be all around her.

  “Alva! I need you to listen to me! I need you to come back to me. Follow my voice. Alva! I love you!”

  There was something wet on her face. Was she crying? She didn’t think she was. There had been no tears for a while now as she refused food or drink. Her eyes fluttered open, barely slits as they met those of Heath, looking down at her. His tears fell on her cheek as she realized he was here, not in her dreams, but by her bed.

  “Heath.”

  It was all she managed to whisper before collapsing again into the darkness. Her body tried to pull away, return to the dream, but her head and her heart screamed, waking her back into the light.

  “There you are. There is my love.”

  Alva smiled weakly. He was here. He was really here.

  “Are we okay?”

  It was all she could manage. All the questions she could ask.

  “I am okay. You are not. You have to eat and drink for me now, Alva. I need you. We are going to be okay.”

  Weeks later, Alva was back up and around, her body recovered from the days of not eating and drinking she had forced upon yourself. Heath stayed by her side, never leaving her for a moment, bringing her back to him. When she was well enough, they left for his home. His family had understood the nature of his love for Alva and forgiven him for his brother’s death, one they considered self-defense, despite the circumstances from which it evolved. Heath had left as the new leader of the dragon clan, his rightful place with the demise of his brother.

  This was what love was meant to be, Alva thought to herself as they set on the cliffs surrounding their new home and admired the sun sinking deep into the canyon below. She put her hand to her midsection. There was not yet anything to tell, but she knew that there soon would be. She could already feel a certain warm springing forth from their earlier lovemaking. A tiny dragon seed had been planted and a new generation would emerge.

  The End.

  CLAN OF THE WEREBEARS

  Lady Arabella Armstrong looked out of her window. The day was bright for travelling and her heart fluttered with excitement. Today she would be travelling from her home in Stirling to the baronial castle of her betrothed, Lord Andrew Grenville Stewart, the wealthy Laird of Inverness. The marriage had been arranged many years ago by her father, Lord William when she was just a girl. He had no son and heir and the match would be a good one. As well as uniting the two clans, she would live out her life in luxury; nothing would be too good for the new Lady Arabella Stewart. Although her father was a rich man, it was nothing in comparison to the wealth of the Stewart Clan, and she would have her own suite of rooms within the castle and maids to look after her every whim.

  For months she had been measured and fitted for her trousseau, a beautiful peach silk gown inset with ivory lace. In fact several sets of new clothing had been made especially for her new life in the Highlands, expertly sewn to be both practical against the winter chills and attractive. Most of the items had been packed away, but she had kept out a deep blue woollen tunic for travelling in. It matched the colour of her eyes and she wanted to look her best for her soon to be husband.

  She had only met Andrew Stewart the once, when he had visited her family in the summer to make the arrangements for their nuptials. She had felt shy back then, being presented to the worldly wise and older man. He was an enigmatic stranger, the future husband with whom she would share private intimacies. He was very handsome, with jet black hair swept away from his face in a somewhat rather severe manner. His eyes were steely blue and his lips red and thin against the pale skin. He had a reputation for cruelty but he had been kind, bringing her a present of a sparkling blue amethyst necklace, set with diamonds. She remembered how he had fastened it around her throat; his long fingers brushing the nape of her neck, as he bent down to kiss the bare flesh of her shoulders when no one was looking. At the time she had recoiled at his touch, it was the first time a man had been so intimate with her, and the feel of his hot sticky breath against her soft skin had made her flush with embarrassment. If he had noticed, then he had been too much the gentleman to say, but her mother Margaret had seen her daughter’s reaction and had remonstrated with her later. The match was important and Arabella must be brave. Her mother had told her all about the needs and passions of men and it had quite shocked her young mind. At 18 years of age, she had led a very sheltered life. She was amazed that her prim and proper mother had actually committed the acts that she embarrassingly described; she could not imagine her parents clutched together in conjugal bliss, but obviously she was the proof of their past union, and possibly why she was an only child.

  Looking at the image of herself in the long mirror, Arabella smiled approvingly. The new dress fitted well and complimented her long, dark hair that fell around her face in soft ringlets. The wedding would take place in a little over a week and she wondered if she would look so young and innocent after her marriage, after her wedding night?

  The carriage was prepared and she hurried down the stairs to bid goodbye to her parents. Matilda, her maid would be travelling with her on the long journey and continue to be her ladies maid at the castle. The two girls were good friends and it made the prospect of her new life less daunting.

  Her mother and father were waiting in the hall to say goodbye. They were both undemonstrative in their affections, but her father had tears in his eyes as he waved the carriage a fond farewell. Her mother’s last advice had been that she must do everything she could, to please Lord Stewart.

  Anything would be better than her mother’s continual instructions, and now she would be free, Lady of her own castle. Surely the sacrifice would be worth her liberty? Once she had given him children, he would probably leave her alone, her mother had said by way of a comfort.

  The carriage had been made cosy with blankets and cushions to keep them warm and comfortable on the long journey. They had packed a small meal of bread, cheese and preserves, and would stop off at a halfway point for a comfort break and to drink a glass of warming ale. It would be late by the time they reached the castle and would need some sustenance en route.

  As the figures of her parents diminished into the distance, Arabella felt the first stab of fear in her stomach. What if she wasn’t happy, what if she could not please Lord Stewart in the ways her mother had imagined? Margaret had been rather vague about the actual deeds she would be expected to perform, talking in riddles of 'men's ardour' and certain 'urges'. She had also hinted that the first time might be painful, but apart from that she was clueless, and her maid Matilda seemed as naive as she was.

  The young maid was very pale except for two red spots on her cheeks. She hadn't wanted to leave Stirling, she had been with Lord Armstrong for most of her working life and she would miss the old familiar place, her own family. But she could not desert Arabella in her time of need.

  Looking out of the window she blinked rapidly in an attempt not to cry. She would be sad not to see John Wilson again, the young man who had recently joined Lord Armstrong as stable hand. She had become very fond of him.

  "Do ever think that you shall marry Matilda?"

  It was the wrong thing to say at that moment, for the young maid was soon in floods of tears, much to the alarm of her mistress.

  "Why whatever is wrong with you, surely you are not homesick already?"

  Matilda sobbed between words "No Mistress, not really Miss, it is just that..."

  "I hope you're not wailing over that new stableman, John Wilson?" she lightly scolded.

  "He is a charming young man I have heard but not one to be trusted with the ladies. I hear he was walking out with a young woman from the village, but was caught kissing the cooks daughter, Bessie in one of the stables. Broke both girl’s hearts I beli
eve and he has only been here a couple of weeks. You are well away from that young knave Matilda, just think of all the strapping Highlanders you are bound to meet soon".

  The young girl wiped her tears and laughed. Young hearts seldom stay broken for long, and soon the two girls were soon chattering away to each other.

  "So, what do you think it will be like on your wedding night, when you are first alone with your husband, in his bed?"

  Matilda giggled and blushed at the same time. She had seen the pigs and cows on her uncle’s farm, but she did not think it would be the same with people.

  "Imagine seeing a man naked?"

  "And him seeing YOU naked!"

  "I fear I would die with the shock."

  "Or with the pain? I have been told a man’s Roger can be this big, as big as a bulls," and she held up her hands in such an exaggeration that both girls tumbled back into their seats in fits of laughter once again.

  "But what does he do with it?" The young maid had no idea.

  "Why, he sticks it inside you and wiggles it about until he gives you a child."

  The whole thing seemed so preposterous that it wasn't long before the girls were giggling once more.

  "In that case I do not want to be married and will remain an old maid all of my life."

  Matilda stuck out her bottom lip in mock defiance and crossed her arms.

  "Yet I shall be married in a week’s time and I suppose I must endure my husband?"

  "You must, it is his right as your spouse and keeper." The two girls had now ceased their laughter and sat in quiet contemplation.

  "I must confess, I am a little afraid Matilda."

  The girl grabbed hold of her companions hand and their fingers entwined.

  "Do not worry. I don't think it can be that bad. After all, my mother gave birth to 10 children," and that set the two girls off laughing again.

  It didn't seem long before they were stopping at ‘The Moulin Inn’ near Pitlochry, to rest the horses and give the girls a chance to stretch their legs.