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

by Sky Winters

  Charlie’s father wasn’t quite as welcoming, standing over them with a scowl on his face.

  “How could you be so irresponsible son? I sent you away to college and you come home with a husband and a baby by the end of your first semester? What is wrong with you?”

  “I expected that sort of attitude from you, Dad. I didn’t come here to ask your permission or for anything from you. I am here because it is the holidays and I wanted you to meet my family. We can be a part of your lives or we cannot. It makes no difference to me, but I will not apologize for my choices.”

  “Don’t listen to your father, Charlie. The baby is beautiful and so is your young man here. You make a handsome family. Why don’t the two of you come help me with Thanksgiving dinner while your father sorts himself out.”

  Charlie and Tommy followed her to the kitchen where she handed the baby back to Tommy and continued with the food preparation she had been working on prior to their arrival. They all chatted lightly about things and shared a bottle of wine. Still, Charlie’s father steered clear of them. Once his mom had everything started in the kitchen, she took the baby back.

  “Why don’t you kids go get settled into your room. I’ll tend the baby for a while. I’m sure that like most new parents, you could use the break.”

  “Thanks, Mom. We are a bit jet lagged. If you don’t mind watching him, we could really stand a nap.”

  “Of course, son. I’ll see you when you wake up. Don’t worry about a thing.”

  Up in Charlie’s room, Tommy commented on how well his mom seemed to be taking things.

  “I know. I hadn’t counted on her need for a grandchild outweighing her outrage at my same sex marriage. I hate that Dad is so upset, but maybe he will come around eventually.”

  “Nothing you can do if he doesn’t. We will be okay either way.”

  “Yes, I know we will. I love you so much, Tommy.”

  “I love you too. You have no idea how happy you make me.”

  “Feel free to show me.”

  “What? With your disapproving father downstairs? You naughty little boy you.”

  Charlie laughed as Tommy pulled him to him. They slipped out of their clothes and climbed into bed for a nap, but it was delayed by their need for one another. Tommy took his time exploring Charlie’ body before flipping him over and holding him flat on the bed. His hands held Charlie’ hands down on the bed as he took him from behind, sliding his heavy cock between his cheeks and into his ass, fucking him slowly and deeply. Charlie moaned quietly, careful not to make too much noise but secretly pleased at finally being able to explore his own sexuality without having to go far away to another city to feel comfortable with it.

  Tommy bit into his shoulder blade as he fucked him harder and faster, growing more passionate with each stroke. Charlie loved the way he was holding him down, taking what he wanted. It felt amazing every time Tommy touched him, but especially now that he was leader of the pack. His husband had grown stronger, more aggressive and had no qualms about letting him know he was in charge in bed.

  “God, I’m coming. Urffffff,” Tommy panted as he exploded inside of him. Pulling away from him as he finished, Charlie lay on one side of the bed, his body curled around Tommy’s as they fell asleep. Everything always felt perfect when he was curled up in his husband’s capable arms. There was no doubt that the one-night stand that had once seemed meaningless had turned out to be the best thing that had ever happened to Charlie. His love for Tommy had only grown as the months had passed and he had no doubt that it would only continue to grow with those that were still to come. When they awoke, they dressed and went downstairs.

  “Ah, you kids are awake. We’ve just been playing with little Harper here. He’s such a bright baby!”

  Tommy and Charlie exchanged glances as they watched his father cooing and cuddling with the baby in his favorite armchair. The joy on his face was unmistakable. Whatever happened while they were upstairs, it was apparent that there would be no more problems regarding acceptance from Charlie’s parents. The two men smiled at each other and took a seat on the sofa together, holding hands and admiring the grandparents, already intent upon spoiling their only grandson. Charlie knew now that it would all be okay. He had everything any man could ever dream of. A wonderful husband, beautiful son and the best parents in the world. This was what love was all about.

  THE END.

  Clan of the Cave Wolf

  A group of men thundered by on horses as Lady Catriona emerged from her tent. The animals’ hooves tore up the ground, tossing clumps of mud and grass across the encampment. In the lead was Lord Hector - Catriona’s husband. They rode into camp, throwing up whoops and hollers, having captured a single Highland rebel. Hector turned his horse ‘round and kicked it towards his wife.

  “What do you think of our game, my love?” He asked loudly, to put on a show.

  Catriona suppressed a curl of her lip and raised her chin. “It is very grand, my Lord.”

  The Lord laughed, barked, in amusement. “This mangy cur?” He spat on the ground, “first time he’s ever been called grand, I’m sure.”

  The other men joined in with their own thick laughter. Jeering at the man they held captive - though the prisoner’s face remained still, distant. Catriona bowed her head, quitting the conversation without further comment. Her husband spurred his horse and returned to his task. Looking up, Catriona took a brief glance at the stranger. Mangy cur was not the phrase she would choose to describe him. The man held his head high, and his shoulders straight - despite the harsh pull of the rope around his wrists. His body was well toned, muscles taught - there was an animal-like quality about him to be sure. But not one of weakness or frenzy. He was strong and lean - and his presence couldn’t help but remind Catriona of what her life might have been, had Hector not chosen her as a bride.

  The captive turned his head, meeting Catriona’s gaze before he was dragged from her sight. His eyes were piercing even from a distance - and they made Catriona shiver. Before she could blink, he was already gone - spirited away to another part of camp, to be bound and ridiculed. Her husband out of sight, Catriona did little to hide the disgust on her face. Life had turned out so much differently than she had once expected as a young girl. Marriage to Lord Hector seemed the only practical choice at the time - he would provide security and wealth in a time when the Scottish lands were in uncertain upheaval. The Highlanders were fighting back against the Englishmen who continuously stole their land and enforced their rule. In truth, Catriona had been lucky to catch Hector’s eye. Instead of leaving her to be taken by the men of his camp, he instead took her aside to woo for himself. With this, Catriona ensured the safety of her own family - if not those of her former village.

  The first year or so was easy - she was still in Hector’s good favor. He doted upon her and showed her off as frequently as possible. But soon the question of a child became an issue. Hector hadn’t the gall to force himself upon her, but the few times Catriona did allow him into her bed, it was cold and unpleasant. His sweet words quickly turned into admonishments and strings of hateful whispers into her ear. She had never suspected Hector a kind man, but the strength of his cruelty was sharp. While he still played the part around his men, or men and women of the court, Catriona dreaded being left alone by his side. Over the course of a few years, Catriona had become attuned to her husband’s moods, his movements. She knew when a strike would come, when he was merely yelling, or when he would destroy the room to intimidate her. To confront Lord Hector directly…Catriona couldn’t be truly sure of the outcome. That is why she decided to make a fool of him behind his back. To make him small in the eyes of his men. She would free the Highland rebel that night.

  The camp was subdued, muted, as the moon’s wavering light drifted through the clouds. Catriona had feigned illness to her husband - claiming the constant travel was doing her no good.

  Hector had scoffed, “and I thought you Scottish women were supposed to be hardy. Shoul
d have chosen a girl with better constitution.” But he let her be, more inclined to join the men in their drinking and rabble-rousing than interrogate his wife.

  When the sounds of their revels died down, Catriona crept carefully and silently from the back of her tent. Her long black hair was held back in a tight bun as she snuck through the darkness - she didn’t want it hindering her in any way. In her boot was a small knife - it once belonged to her father, mainly used to gut fish. But tonight she would use it to cut the stranger’s restraints…and perhaps bequeath it to him. Catriona realized the man would have been stripped of his own weapons, and if she were going to give him half a chance, this was the best she could do. She comforted herself in the loss of such a dear item with the thought that her father would have done the same. Across the camp sat a small tent, separated from the others and guarded by a single man. Judging by his absent stare and poorly stifled yawns, he would be easy enough to creep by. As long as the captive inside let up no alarm as she entered.

  Crouching, balancing on the balls of her feet and her fingertips, Catriona couldn’t help but smirk. Crawling about in the mud. This certainly wasn’t the image Lord Hector had in mind for his bride, she was sure. Taking a long arc around to the back of the prisoner’s tent, Catriona sliced herself an entrance with the small knife. It was duller than she expected and took a few moments to truly cut a hole big enough for her. She hoped the rebel captive would remain quiet until she was finished.

  Poking her head in at last, she came face to face with the man. He was sitting, hands tied to the wooden pole behind his back. He wore a ragged shirt, with no sign of buttons or string, and a heavy kilt tied about his waist. His boots were leather, battered by unknown years of mud and travel. The man’s head was tilted, his amber eyes sparkling with bewildered amusement.

  “Hello,” he whispered, “is this meant to be a rescue - or are you simply redecorating?”

  Catriona blinked, taken aback by the unexpected quip. Her cheeks flushed, a slight indignation brewing beneath her skin.

  “I beg your pardon?” She uttered as quietly as possible, while still maintaining an air of offended dignity.

  The man chuckled under his breath. “Forgive me. I was trying to think of something clever to say all that while, and that was the best I could muster - under the circumstances.”

  He shrugged, tugging lightly at his restraints. Catriona hesitated only a moment more, bemused by the stranger’s odd nature. She shuffled into the tent and knelt on the other side of the pole.

  “Well, you’ll have more time to think of something better,” she slipped the knife between the man’s hands and began to saw at the rope. “I still need to cut through these.”

  “Saints preserve us, let’s pray you finish before sun up.” His voice was light, joking more than disparaging.

  Catriona shook her head silently. She had envisioned their first encounter many times before nightfall - expecting the man to be stoic, noble, and certainly more grateful than this. But here he was teasing her, jesting. It was odd, however…somehow this did not feel out of place. It was as if the two of them had known each other long before this moment. As if two good friends were finally reuniting.

  “What’s your name?” The man broke into her thoughts. He turned his head, looking over his shoulder to get a glimpse of his savior.

  “Lady Catriona,” she replied quickly. “And you?”

  “My name is Conall,” he began - then a thought seemed to strike him, “wait a moment…Lady?”

  He attempted to twist himself around even more, but Catriona kept her focus on the ropes and the movement of her knife.

  “Lady?” Conall repeated, keeping his voice low despite the curiosity in him.

  “Yes.” Catriona said simply.

  “As in the Lady married to our lovely Lord Hector out there?”

  Catriona could feel her cheeks growing hot again. She had also envisioned leaving her husband unmentioned that night - but so accustomed to Hector’s own flaunting of the title, she let Lady slip. Her eyes flitted up for a moment to look at Conall’s face. Instead of the resentful scowl she had expected, his face sat in a playful grin.

  “I fail to see the humor of the situation,” Catriona muttered. The ropes were finally beginning to fray. A few minutes more and the man would be free.

  Conall laughed out loud involuntarily - but quickly caught himself, turning the laugh into an awkward cough before trailing off. The two of them sat frozen for a moment, listening for the sounds of the guard outside - he appeared to be unperturbed by the noise. Catriona cut with more ferocity.

  “It’s brilliant though, isn’t it? The man’s own wife freeing a Highland rebel? I only wish I were his wife so I could pull off something so dastardly.”

  Catriona choked, only just managing to hide her own laughter. “Excuse me?” She asked through stifled giggles.

  “Well, I mean,” Conall shrugged, “not literally of course…”

  Finally, the last of the rope gave way and Conall’s wrists were free. He stretched his arms, bringing them around and massaging the life back into his hands. Catriona sat back on her heels, watching him - his hands were rough, broad. And yet she imagined they were much warmer than her husband’s.

  “Shall we be off?” Once again, Conall interrupted her thoughts.

  Catriona looked up, startled. “We?”

  Conall nodded. “I can’t imagine you entered this tent and freed me because you like your husband.”

  Catriona didn’t reply right away. Despite the hatred she held for her husband, despite the risk she had decided to take, despite everything, she hadn’t, in fact, imagined herself leaving. In Catriona’s mind, it wasn’t even possible - how could it be? When he had held her with such a deadly grip all these years. But now, on this quiet night, suddenly freedom was before her - staring at her with earnest, amber eyes.

  “I’m afraid the longer we delay -.”

  “Yes.” Catriona answered abruptly, causing Conall’s face to break into another grin.

  He took her hand. “Then off we go, my Lady. And I promise, since you have done me the honor of saving my own life, I will do everything in my power to protect yours.”

  Now this was the sort of noble behavior Catriona had hoped for. And she was right, the man’s hands were incredibly warm, and softer than they looked. Another moment and the tent was empty, save for the tattered ropes - and Catriona’s knife. She had not noticed it slip from her hands before they disappeared.

  Morning was grasping its way up the horizon as Catriona and Conall rode towards his home. When they had snuck their way out of Hector’s camp, Conall suggested they would have better luck on horseback. In truth, Catriona didn’t believe they would be able to get one away without raising suspicion and alarm - but as she watched from the shadows, Conall treaded the ground so lightly, that she began to wonder if he were more specter than man. As the two of them rode together, however, Catriona felt the weight of Conall’s arms around her, holding the reigns. Perhaps it was the cold wind, or the dawning realization that soon Hector may be nothing more than a bitter memory - but Catriona’s heart hammered in her chest like a war drum, dizzying her senses. In the distance, the mountains loomed and grew taller as they approached.

  Conall gestured. “We should be there within another hour or so, my people reside within the mountains - to keep out of sight.”

  He added this last comment, as if he already sensed the question on Catriona’s lips. Catriona only nodded. Within the mountains…Conall and his people must have once lived in a village of their own, on land of their own. Her expression hardened - it was men like Hector who were driving these people out, bending them to English rule or otherwise erasing them from the countryside. A sharp ire grew in the back of her throat. She had traded her countrymen for her own safety, sitting idle for years as Hector lead her from encampment to encampment to drive out the Highland rebels. She shook her head - but this was the last of it. The sun was rising on a new day for
Catriona and she refused to turn back now.

  Conall pulled up on the reigns gently and guided the horse to a slow trot. They had reached the base of the mountains. Here, Conall slid from the saddle.

  “I’ll lead us towards the caves - it will be easier to lead the horse on foot.”

  “Then I’ll join you, there’s no reason I should ride up here like some sort of noblewoman anymore,” Catriona offered, already moving to jump down.

  But Conall stopped her with a quick hand on her calf. The movement startled Catriona, making her flinch - her body was still trained to guard itself against the touch of men. Conall seemed to notice her stiffen and quickly removed his hand apologetically.

  “No,” he said a little awkwardly, then recovered himself. “No, you ought to remain saddled. The path is uneven and unkind to delicate feet.”

  His mouth curled into an impish smile. Teasing again. Catriona pursed her lips but didn’t argue. “Very well, then. Lead the way, sir.”

  Conall gave a mock bow, then took the reigns in one hand and began the final stretch of their journey. They fell silent as Conall concentrated, and Catriona took the opportunity to absorb her new surroundings. The mist was thicker here, leaving a fine layer of dew on the rocks and the dull grass. Casting a look over her shoulder, it appeared they had already climbed a fair distance. Catriona could see the vast fields behind her - hazy curtains of rain obscuring a portion of them, while other areas remained still untouched. Ahead of them, an invisible path drew them towards a dip between the slopes, disappearing around curves and mossy rocks. Conall stepped with certainty, however, clearly familiar to each step. Catriona shivered, whether due to the cold or the growing sense of anxiety in this strange territory, she wasn’t sure. Gradually, the fields fell away and soon Catriona and Conall were enveloped by the mountains on either side. It became a world in of itself - the many peaks and ledges offering different forms of shelter and pathways. Catriona wondered just how many people could live here without ever being detected, as she quickly realized there were also a series of cave openings along the way. Many were deceptively hidden by rocks or plants, but soon she was able to pick up on a pattern and spot some of the less concealed entrances. A quick flutter of movement disturbed the moss hanging down in front of one of the caves. Catriona strained her eyes to see what sort of animal it might have been, but whatever had been there a moment ago was gone. Conall, meanwhile, paid no mind.