by Olivia Gayle
Kodiak Moment
An Arcadia Knights Story
Olivia Gayle
Contents
Copyright
KODIAK MOMENT
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Author’s Note
BEARLY EVER
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
About the Author
Copyright
Copyright 2016 by Olivia Gayle.
All rights reserved. These books or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
KODIAK MOMENT
Abby Stone just wanted that perfect picture, the kind that would make a great memory for her cross-country road trip. She didn't want to leave that pristine wilderness, but real life was calling her back home, and she wanted one last parting shot. So when she caught sight of the giant Kodiak bear, she couldn't believe her luck.
Until a hunter's gun rang out, and that giant bear started running straight at her.
Logan Tucker came to this northern wilderness to get away from civilization, not be hunted by it. All he wanted was to be left alone, allowed to wander free, but now he was being shot at and photographed by a nosy human woman...who may just be his mate.
Too bad he's almost killed her.
A life-or-death decision means profound changes for both of them, and a return to civilization for the prodigal son. For Abby, it means the life she had is gone, perhaps forever. But danger follows the duo back to the world Shifters thought was safe, and may end up threatening everyone they hold dear...
Chapter 1
“So, is that your sidecar parked out front?”
“Yup.” The man had bought Abby a drink, the least she could do was make small talk. She twisted the beer bottle around, picking at the label.
“Not bad. I’m traveling around the world, always love to meet fellow travelers.”
Traveling around the world. Yeah, they always were. Normally she enjoyed talking to people like that, but not tonight, and not to this man.
His hand moved to her back, and Abby flinched away. Her grip on the beer bottle tightened as he didn’t get the hint, settling his hand against her stiff back. “What’s your story? Don’t usually find pretty girls in a place like this?”
The bar was fairly packed, considering just how far outside civilization she’d wandered. The guy sitting beside her, who’d introduced himself as Jack, had latched onto her the moment she’d walked in the hotel lobby. He’d followed her to the bar, buying her a beer and asking her questions, giving backhanded compliments that set Abby’s teeth on edge. Given the scarcity of women in this part of the Arctic, Abby had grown used to the phenomenon, but sometimes it irked her.
Like tonight.
“Sorry man, I’m just not in the mood for chit-chat.”
“Come on.” He grinned widely beneath that bushy beard. “One more drink.”
Abby pursed her lips. Maybe he really was a nice guy and she was just being rude. But she was too worn out from a long day to play the game, and he reminded her too much of her ex. Abby shook her head, standing up off the barstool. "I need to hit the hay, gotta be on the road early tomorrow."
"Wait, that's it?" He frowned at her. "After I bought you drinks and everything?"
Nope. He was an asshole. Oh, joy. Trying to withhold a snarky comment, she raised her glass to him. "Cheers," she said in a falsely cheerful voice, and walked away from the bar.
To her consternation, Jack followed after her. “Now hang on, maybe we got off on the wrong foot.”
"Is there a problem here, miss?”
Abigail paused, turning to see a large man she recognized from the trucker's group standing behind them. He was big, far larger than Jack in both height and girth, and was glaring at the younger man. She was perversely pleased to see his bright red beard was larger and fuller than Dickwad's lumber-sexual offering. Here was the real deal, not some hipster wannabe.
The smile she gave the trucker was genuine. “I’m good, but thanks. Jake here was just saying his goodbyes.”
“It’s Jack,” Dickwad corrected her, his eyes narrowing. He seemed smart enough to realize she was messing with him but stupid enough to think he still had a chance. “Come on baby, I didn’t mean anything by what I said.”
His use of the word baby immediately set Abby on edge. That word, something that her ex had always called her, was guaran-damned-teed to bring out her I-don’t-give-a-shit side. “Good night,” she said firmly, and when he didn’t budge, Abby rolled her eyes and walked away.
The trucker stepped in front of the other man’s path, blocking Dickwad from following after her. From behind her, she heard the trucker mutter something and Dickwad reply. His last words wafted after her: “Fat bitch.”
She almost turned around right then and there to go confront the asshole. Her hands curled into fists, but Abby forced herself to set one foot in front of the other, ascending the stairs to her hotel room, glad she’d be leaving that city the next day.
To call Black Wolf a city was stretching it. It had an airport, which probably raised its status a bit in the sense of township, but that was only because airplane was the best way to get around this far north. There was the gas station with a diner, one hotel, and a dirt highway. It was a stop in the road for the trucker and pipeline workers, with no civilization for miles.
It was the polar opposite of where Abby had been living lately, and exactly what she needed at that moment.
Her room wasn’t much, a bed and a bathroom. It didn’t matter though; she’d had worse on this trip, and at least these sheets were clean. The duffle bag she kept strapped to the motorcycle seat behind her was already inside. It was the first thing she’d done before her ill-fated attempt to relax at the bar. Abby sat down on the bed with a sigh, then twisted her foot beneath one of the bag’s loops and pulled it toward her.
The first thing she took out was her camera, checking to make sure everything was still securely fastened. The Nikon was her pride and joy, something she’d splurged on right while planning this trip but before she actually left. Carefully tucked away inside the duffle were four additional memory cards, all full of pictures and memories of
her travels.
Leaning back against the pillows, she held the heavy camera above her and clicked through the pictures she’d taken over the last few days. She’d detoured off the main highway to hit a series of glaciers high up the mountain trails, places no truckers would ever take their rigs. Indeed, her sidecar had barely made the journey; the high altitudes had almost been too much for the carbureted bike, but a little fiddling halfway up the mountain range, then again back down, had allowed her to continue.
Tonight was the first time in nearly a week she was someplace with an electrical socket, so she decided it was time to move the images on the cards to her computer and free them up for more potential pictures. Leaving the camera on the bed, she exited her room and, careful to skirt the attached hotel bar, headed outside.
The sidecar rig was where she left it, looking very much like it fit in with the grubby little town. Abby circled around to the trunk of the sidecar itself, working the key into the rusted lock, then trying to jiggle the ornery thing open. After leaning the key just right, she managed to get it to open enough to survey what was inside, but let loose a torrent of curses when she saw the interior was wet. The seals on the door had failed, allowing the rain from earlier to coat everything inside.
Abby had a love-hate relationship with her Ural. On the one hand, she loved the way it looked. “Old School” didn’t even begin to describe it; the bikes of today looked almost the exact same as those made decades before. Heck, the parts probably would match up. You couldn’t go faster than fifty-five miles per hour without rattling off important bits, but it took most hills and roads with the ease of a tractor. This sidecar rig was less than a decade old but looked like an antique, something that Abby loved. It was dead-simple to work on too; everything was right there out in the open.
On the downside, there was a reason they made everything so accessible: reliability, or rather the lack thereof. Every time Abby stopped, there was something that needed tightening, fixing, repairing, or adjusting. Twice on the journey, it had died on her, once while she’d been truly in the middle of nowhere. It had taken her two days to figure out the problem. There hadn’t been a soul around the entire time except for wildlife; she’d gotten some amazing pictures when she wasn’t banging madly at the blasted machine.
She didn’t trust it as far as she could throw the almost half-ton POS, and yet, oddly, she wouldn’t trade the rust bucket in for a brand new bike or car.
Well, okay, sometimes when it pissed her off, she might. Gladly. But she knew she’d end up regretting it.
Muttering under her breath, she grabbed the remaining bags along with her laptop case, and hauled them inside. All of her clothes were, at best, damp; she’d need to string them out to dry overnight, and pray the humidity would be low enough for that to happen. She was most worried about her laptop, but gave a grateful sigh when she pulled it free and the case was still bone dry. The water had gotten onto the case, but hadn’t penetrated all the way through.
She’d have to haul everything in plastic back there from now on, but at least nothing had been completely ruined. This time.
Abby set up her computer, then plugged the first memory card in to upload before stretching her damp clothes over any and all surfaces she could find. A washing machine would have been preferred, but hotels this far out didn’t come with first world amenities like that. Just as well, she didn’t have any change, and didn’t feel like heading to the bar to make some.
Her stomach rumbled and she snagged a protein bar from the bag, nibbling on it as she settled back onto the bed with her camera. She scrolled through the images one by one, deleting any that were too blurry, and pausing on some to remember the majesty of those ice behemoths. Pictures, sadly, didn’t do the glaciers justice; in 2D, they just looked like faint blue mountains.
But Abby had stood close to them, stared up at the ragged peaks from only a few hundred yards away. Several she’d had to hike to find, but it had been worth the journey.
The first animal picture clicked through, a large female moose and her baby, and Abby’s smile widened. The natural vistas out this way were phenomenal, but her favorite pictures were of animals. She’d glimpsed everything from seals to moose, and had the pictures to prove it. They were definitely some of the more popular pictures on her blog, which, she reminded herself, she was way behind on updating. Perks, and downside depending on the day, to being out in the boonies: no internet.
No internet, no blog. No blog…no funding for her trip out into the boonies. Nice little catch twenty-two there. Most of her journey was funded with her dwindling savings, but a few people she’d met along the way or who she interacted with online occasionally sent her small donations that kept her afloat and paid for gas. She’d kept her blog as updated as possible, both for family and friends to keep tabs on her, but also to share the beauty she’d seen so far in her travels.
So far on her trip, the only animals she really hadn’t gotten any good pictures of were the northern predators. Usually, that would probably be a good thing, but she wished there was a safe way to get some shots of them in the wild. Polar bears, wolves, lynx, grizzly bears - those would be some incredible shots to share with readers. Her animal pictures were always favorites on the blog, and happy readers meant more donations to continue her trip.
It had been too long since she’d been in a bed this soft, and Abby began to doze. Yawning, she set the camera aside before she dropped it, swapping out the memory card in her laptop for another before rolling over on the pillow. She shut off the light, basking in the warmth and relative dryness of the room. Such a stark contrast to her tent, which needed to be air-dried itself, although this hotel room was far too small to do that. Oh well, hopefully next time she found civilization, she could give it a proper airing out.
Closing her eyes, she snuggled into the pillow, content with this modicum of civilization, visions of bears and wolves frolicking in her dreams.
Chapter 2
The Ural decided to mysteriously die the next day ten miles off the main road.
Normally, this would involve a lot of cursing, kicking of tires, and generally ruin a day. However, the Northern gods seemed to have, aside from the Sidecar of Doom, smiled on Abby’s journey today. The sun was shining and blue skies dominated the horizon, a rare occurrence this far north, even in the midst of summer. The path she’d found was narrow but hard-pack dirt that was easy to ride over. It took her up alongside the foothills, and gave her a view that was to die for of the arctic valley below.
As breakdown spots went, it was definitely among the more righteous.
Abby pushed the rig off to the side of the road, setting a makeshift “parking break” by tying a bit of velcro around the front brake lever. Then she pulled her backpack from the sidecar, slung the Nikon around her neck, and started hiking down the road. The weather was also much less cold than it had been lately and, debating with herself for a moment (weather this far north tended to change at the drop of a hat), she left her riding jacket atop the rig but took the down liner. Stuffing two bottled waters into her pack and grabbing a few breakfast bars just in case, she started hiking up the road. She didn’t intend to go far, just a short scouting trip to find anything interesting, then back to set up camp and start troubleshooting the bike.
Bits of dirty white snow still lay in the lower areas beside the road, spots that didn’t get much light during the day. Despite the sun, the weather never really grew truly warm this far north. Certainly not as warm as the California town Abby had grown up in. She’d put up with hundred-plus day summers for years, so to have an August where temperatures rarely reached far above sixty degrees was heavenly.
She’d gotten in much better shape since starting her journey six months ago. Driving the sidecar rig definitely required more upper body strength, especially over these northern bumpy roads. Abby had also started walking more, exploring the various destinations she found on foot. Hiking had never been one of her hobbies, although Abby did it w
hen she had to. She’d never really been motivated to climb mountains, or go down roads she couldn’t take with a car.
Funny how heartbreak had really changed her life in so many ways. She should thank James for that when she saw him next, right after she popped him in the mouth.
The extra weight and love handles hadn’t come off as readily as she’d hoped, but she no longer grew winded on long walks, or sweat as much as she used to do with any exercise. Her body still had more than its share of curves, and she was trying to eschew years of conditioning and love herself as is. On days like this, when she could walk and walk along the dirt trails, it was easy to feel pride in herself; she was doing things most people would never get a chance to do.
Like Brad and his little hipster group. Jack back in the Black Horse bar had been just like her ex in so many ways, which made Abby want to puke.
God, what had she ever seen in the boy. But thinking about him just made her want to punch something, so she pushed both men out of her mind and simply enjoyed the view.
As Abby got further down the road, she became convinced that Fate had caused her sidecar to break down. It narrowed down to a path, then even further to something more for hikers. There was no way she could get the sidecar through here, so it was just as well it had been left behind. She kept going however, too enthralled with the views to turn back now.
The path curved upwards, heading toward the hills. It was definitely man made, if not perfectly maintained. Parts of the trail were cut out of the hillside, leaving a flat wall face on one side and a sharp drop-off on the other. Heights didn’t rank well on Abby’s list of favorite things, but it was early yet so she kept going, interested to see where it led.
From here, she had a near one-eighty degree view of the valley below, and took a moment to snap a few pictures. Off in the distance, she could see dark shapes moving across the tundra, but couldn’t tell from this distance what kind of animals they were. So far on this trip she’d seen just about everything, from moose to grizzlies, although she hadn’t gotten any pictures of the latter. Maybe if she’d brought her telephoto lens she could see what it was, but for now it didn’t matter. There would be other opportunities.